#what even more so makes this relationship seemed predetermined / fated to be is that they both happen to be the same kind of crazy

[daydreamerdrew]

Captain America (1968) #102

[project-sonadow]

Fate?

Summary: Sonic never cared about soulmates, but in a world where everyone had a red string of fate wrapped around their finger, Sonic decided to wear gloves.

Read the rest below!

To put it bluntly, Sonic had never cared about soulmates.

He wasn’t exactly unique in this mindset. In this modern day and era, it was only slightly progressive to spend your entire life without ever meeting your other half, let alone devoting your life to them. Radical ideas, such as platonic soulmates, familial soulmates, or even soulmates being bad if you ended up paired with the wrong person were common talking points in the general public and media. That red string of fate which had governed entire lives in the past no longer seemed critical to most people.

Sonic didn’t care about any of that either. In fact, until he started hanging around populated human areas more often, he didn’t realize there was so much controversy about it. He always lived how he wanted, paying barely any attention to the subject. 

-

Sonic’s friends all had very different opinions about soulmates.

Tails was kind of like him, in that he didn’t care about the red string encircling his pinkie and leading to a far-off point in the distance- or, at least, he pretended not to. Amy had been heartbroken that she and Sonic weren’t soulmates, before deciding to prove to Sonic and the world that true love couldn’t be predetermined by fate (her words, not his). Knuckles didn’t want to leave his duty for long enough to find his soulmate, and had admitted to Sonic once that he felt bad for whoever his soulmate was. Cream was excited to find her soulmate when she got older, but wasn’t under any illusion that it was a requirement for happiness in life, considering that her own mother was forever trailed by her own cut string, dragging limply on the ground, and seemed just fine despite that. Blaze and Silver both viewed it as a luxury that they couldn’t indulge in (ironic, because their shared red string of fate was apparently strong enough to cross through time and dimensions). Vector didn’t care about it at all, considering that he had his eyes set on Vanilla. Espio thought it would get in the way of his “duties as a ninja”, whatever that meant. Charmy just didn’t like the idea of relationships in general. Rouge hated the concept in general, Shadow refused to talk about it, and Omega said he would refuse to accept his soulmate unless they were willing to help him destroy Eggman. Big had a gentle kind of apathy towards his string. Whisper didn’t talk much about the subject to begin with, and considering that she wore blocker gloves 24/7 people didn’t ask her about it. 

Tangle…

Well, it seemed like she was trying very hard to convince herself that she didn’t care about the idea of never finding her soulmate. 

“I just don’t get why everyone thinks it’s such a big deal, y’know. Like it’s great if you do find your soulmate, and in a tiny village like mine half the soulmates are paired up before they’re teenagers, but it’s not like you need to do it! My moms aren’t soulmates and they’re doing just fine!”

Tangle’s moms were currently divorced and trying to rekindle their relationship, but Sonic decided not to bring that up.

“And then we have to throw a huge stupid party everytime someone comes back from vacation with their soulmate in tow, and I just. Ugh. We all make such a big deal out of getting to choose how to live our own lives, but we’re all born with this stupid string around our pinkies and told to go off and find the other end. It’s so annoying.”

This probably wasn’t what was actually bothering her, Sonic thought. It was probably the fact that one day her string had stopped moving by itself, only responding to Tangle’s own body, and currently led to a forest in the middle of nowhere with nobody at the other end. It was probably the fact that her soulmate had apparently been the type of person to try on a pair of blocker gloves one day and then never take them off.

Sonic thought about Whisper. About the blocker gloves she never took off, the way she started fiddling with them whenever Tangle was around. The way she looked so anxious whenever Tangle grabbed her by the hand and started running, like she was scared Tangle would pull the glove clean off. The way Tangle and Whisper looked at each other, in general.

Like always, he wondered if he should tell Tangle what he thought.

Like always, he decided against it.

“If you want a huge stupid party, I can always just throw you one, soulmate or no soulmate,” he said instead. “Hell, if you really want, we could pretend that we’re soulmates just to rub it in your town’s face.”

Tangle fake-gagged, and Sonic took fake-offense to that.

“Like you’re one to talk, Mr. Celebrity,” she said, and Sonic drew himself back a little, spines involuntarily bristling. “Whenever people talk about soulmates you just roll your eyes and say some shit about ‘living free’ and ‘going with the flow’. Do you really not want to find your soulmate? It would be easy for you.”

Sonic rolled his eyes, and then instantly realized what he had done when Tangle started laughing at him. He hastily cleared his throat. “Don’t know if there’s anyone who would be able to keep up with me.”

“I know at least three people who can go about as fast as you can,” Tangle said, punching his shoulder lightly. “C’mon, if you really didn’t care that much you wouldn’t wear those stupid blocker gloves all the time.”

Oh, so she had noticed. “Eh, I mostly wear these because I tend to get mobbed by crazy  fangirls if I don’t. If I make it obvious I’m not really available then most people won’t attempt to tell me that they’re totally different from the hundreds of other people who have been convinced we’re meant to be over the years.”

Tangle narrowed her eyes at that. “Crazy fangirls? Like Amy?”

“Crazier.”

“Wow, scary,” Tangle said, and then moved on to talking about how her own friends had set up a Sonic fanclub once, and the conversation moved on from there, and Sonic was glad he didn’t have to talk about it anymore. 

-

So yeah, Sonic wore blocker gloves, and yeah, it was so he wouldn’t be harassed about the subject whenever he showed his face in public, or when journalists ambushed him on the streets, or people edited photos of him to make it seem like he had a thin red line coming down from his pinkie and leading to some stranger in the photo. It was convenient. It was easy.

It was even mostly the truth.

Sonic knew a couple other people who wore blocker gloves- Blaze studiously kept hers on to keep up a vaguely professional air, even when her cheeks flamed fire-red every single time Silver so much as existed in her general vicinity, Espio had his on so the string couldn’t get in the way of his “duties as a ninja” (seriously, what the hell did that mean), Vector occasionally wore them on the job and had made half-hearted attempts to get a pair for Charmy, which kept on being mysteriously lost. Rouge and Shadow both wore a pair, presumably because of their super-secret spy jobs that Sonic wasn’t supposed to know about (glowing red strings which could phase through any solid object would probably make hiding difficult, he figured), and Omega had found a way to simply turn his string off, somehow, which was more impressive and terrifying than anything else Sonic had seen him do. 

The only person Sonic knew who steadfastly refused to wear blocker gloves was Vanilla, despite the troubles she sometimes saw because of them. She was a single mother whose string had been cut by an untimely death, and she didn’t care who knew it. She lived each day of her life with a bright, happy, genuine smile on her face.

She was, so far, one of the only people who had ever seen Sonic with his gloves off. The only other person besides Tails, actually, who built his gloves in the first place. And the only person who hadn’t said a word to him about the subject, just cleaned the cut he had gotten on his palm and told him to keep himself safe.

He was grateful to her for that.

Rouge was Vanilla’s polar opposite, in regards to the string. She not only hid her string, she made a show of hiding it, commissioning custom blocker gloves and shoving the subject right back in the face of any poor soul who dared to question her about it. She had a million and one excuses for why she didn’t want to find her soulmate, all of them tiptoeing around the truth and never once touching on the actual reason why. She bragged about being able to date anyone she wanted even without showing her string off. She complained about not wanting to be tied down. She whined about how annoying societal expectations were. She crowed about the amount of people who desperately wanted to be her soulmate.

Sonic saw through all of this as the extravagant bullshit that it was, but he really had no idea what the actual reason was. Didn’t really care either. It wasn’t like she brought the subject up an annoying amount either, she was far more likely to yammer on for hours about her one and only actual love (jewels) than she was to start talking about literally any other subject (and if he could put up with the jewel talk, then he could put up with anything). 

It was just that sometimes when they hung out, people would get the wrong idea about them. Sonic and one of his friends (a woman at that), both with blocker gloves, spending time together, alone? It was apparently unthinkable to some that they could just be friends. So they both made a big joke out of it, Rouge flaunting how untouchable she was and Sonic pretending to be heartbroken. It made for some hilarious think pieces about how Sonic was a bad role model, at the very least.

Still, he didn’t want to deal with all of that every time they hung out, which was why Rouge had dragged Shadow along with them this time, mentioning that he owed her for something.

So here they were, sequestered away in a tiny café, Rouge and Sonic talking about everything and nothing, while Shadow was also there, sipping delicately at his tea while Sonic chugged his large chocolate milkshake and Rouge got whipped cream from her hot chocolate all over her face. 

Good times.

For once, the general populace seemed content to ignore them, at least for now, so the conversation went wherever it wanted to, Sonic and Rouge loud and energetic, Shadow quiet and solemn (despite the fact that there was nothing to be solemn about).

At least, nothing until Rouge spilled hot chocolate all over her glove. 

“Ohgoddamnitshit,” Rouge said, all in one breath, dabbing at the stain on her very expensive glove with a napkin, a small frown on her face, before it turned into an outright scowl. “Oh come on-”

She shifted her wrist, and Sonic saw what had bothered her so much. Some of the liquid must have gotten into some of the actual electronics in the glove and messed with it, because Sonic could now see Rouge’s string. Rouge’s cut string.

Rouge groaned, and then shoved her hand under the table, her head in her other hand. “Not. A. Word.”

She said it lightly, like Sonic and Shadow had just seen her do something embarrassing instead of accidentally revealing that her supposed other half was dead and buried, but Sonic could hear the threat in her tone, and he wasn’t going to tell anyone about it anyway. He mimed sealing his lips shut, Shadow just gave her a terse nod, and before either of them could do anything Rouge had thrown some cash onto the table and ran out the front door, presumably to go home, get a new pair of blocker gloves, and hide her face from them for at least a couple months.

Sonic put his chocolate shake down on the table. He had a feeling it wouldn’t taste anywhere near as good as it did a second ago.

“I know Rouge already said as much, but if you tell anyone else about that, you’ll regret it,” Shadow said, the threat in his far less concealed than Rouge’s had been.

“I won’t, jeez,” Sonic said. “I’m not an asshole. And I don’t care about soulmates either.”

Shadow just raised an eyebrow at him, and Sonic glared back half-heartedly. “Those gloves serve a purpose, Sonic.”

“I only wear these because I’m a celebrity for some reason, and people think that makes it okay to pry into every detail of my life.”

“‘For some reason’,” Shadow said, mostly to himself, sounding incredulous. “That can’t seriously be the only reason you wear them.”

Well, it wasn’t, but he wasn’t about to tell Shadow that. Especially when he had no idea what the other hedgehog thought about soulmates beyond just a general unwillingness to speak about the topic. He was born over 50 years ago and raised by a bunch of uptight scientists in literal outer space, so Sonic was curious if he had any different opinions from the general crowd he hung out with.

Shadow didn’t seem willing to share, so Sonic decided to push the issue. Just a bit. “Why do you wear blocker gloves?”

Shadow’s lips curled in a vaguely unpleasant way. “I don’t want to find my soulmate. That’s all.”

Well, that was an unsurprising and boring answer. “Okay, but what would you do if you met your soulmate and fell head-over-heels in love with them? Or if you’ve already met your soulmate, but didn’t know because of the gloves?”

“I wouldn’t fall in love with anyone. And I’m not even slightly concerned about the second possibility. There is nobody in my life who I would want to become my life partner.”

Sonic pouted at him, and something in his chest hurt, just a bit. “Nobody? Not even little old me?”

Shadow’s expression flickered, before it hardened again. “I hope, for your sake, that what you just said was a joke. I’m an immortal being, Sonic. My string will end up cut, at some point or another.”

“Hmm. Good point,” Sonic said. “Well, unless your soulmate is Omega, I guess.”

Shadow choked on his drink, and Sonic couldn’t help but grin like a maniac even as Shadow glared at him (it was less scary than normal, with tea dripping out of his mouth and into his chest fluff. He looked adorable. Sonic tried not to think about the fact that he thought Shadow was adorable). 

Sonic decided against talking about it anymore for his own health (Shadow had proved he was more than willing to suplex Sonic through a table if he annoyed him too much), so instead he just waited for Shadow to finish his tea before handing him some gold rings to pay for the half-drunken milkshake. Shadow glared at the rings like they offended him. “They don’t accept those as payment in human establishments.”

“My mistake,” Sonic said cheekily. “Guess I’m dining and dashing. The next date will be my treat.”

And then he dashed before Shadow could actually suplex him through the table.

-

Sonic didn’t leave the city when he left the café, instead opting to nap on the nearest rooftop before night fell. Whenever he visited the big cities he always made sure to stay off the streets themselves. With so many people all locked into one tiny area, the red strings, thin and frail as they were, became far too many, all at once, hundreds and thousands and millions of them all crisscrossing their way across every visible surface, choking his view and making it impossible to run unless he wanted to be half-blind. So he stuck to the rooftops, and waited for night so he could at least get a good view for his trouble.

At night, the streets of every city lit up, suffused with a red glow, invisible during the day but radiant when the sun went down. The strings varied in size, thickness, length, how strong they were, how much they were moving, but every single one of them, collectively, bound people together in the most literal way possible. If you had a soulmate, it was impossible to get rid of your string. It would remain there until the day you died, so most people still said it was better to try and use it, to find happiness with your other half.

Sonic didn’t put much stock in that idea. Or in the idea of other halves existing in the first place. Some of his friends called him an idealist for thinking so, but he had always believed that people were complete by themselves, and that finding someone else made them something more than just themselves. 

Shadow would probably call him an idealist for that, too. Even if he had a sneaking suspicion it was something close to what the other hedgehog thought.

Or maybe Shadow would just call him stupid. 

High on his chosen perch, Sonic surveyed the glove on his right hand. Tails had made it for him. It was mostly pure white, just like his old gloves, but with a thin ring of silver at the bottom which made its purpose obvious. It looked professionally made. To everyone except him and Tails, it even looked like it worked. 

When he removed it, his hands were bare, free from any string. He never had one in the past, and would probably never have one in the future. Sonic had learned a long time ago how people reacted when they realized he didn’t have a soulmate, and decided he hated it even back then. The gloves were a convenience, a way for him to avoid explaining himself, a preventative measure to stop everyone from looking at him like he was broken. 

Because Sonic wasn’t broken. He only needed himself, so even if fate said he was doomed to be alone he was perfectly fine with that.

Sonic thought back to Shadow, in the café. 

Well, there was a reason he had never put much stock in fate, either.

[moraxsthrone]

✦ title — respite

✦ pairing — zhongli x reader, morax x reader

✦ wc — 700+

✦ notes — just finished historia antiqua: act II and was moved to tears to write this.

✦ synopsis — a beautiful partnership with morax that ended hundreds of years ago in tragedy. you meet again at the end of his life. or is it the beginning?

✦ song — all that matters ; justin bieber (just fucking listen, okay?)

“you may live forever, doomed to a lonely existence…yet even this is temporary. when you reach the end of time, those people, those past and future relationships predetermined by fate…they will be waiting for you.” - azhdaha, to zhongli (i think i got the last line right. i accidentally hit the space bar ingame before i finished typing the quote ahaha oops.)

you had children together…the memories of having lost all of you still rips his heart asunder. he loved you all fiercely. but it’s been so long now, he can hardly remember your face; he’s all but forgotten those of your children. but he remembers your voices. the laughter of his younglings as they played, running in circles around his legs, filling his heart with the swell of love. 

he can still hear your veracious heartbeat against his ear as he lay his head on your bare chest after making passionate love to you; the sensation of your naked bodies lying together, skin on skin, sweaty and spent...he can’t remember it anymore. but he can still hear your sweet voice whispering next to his ear,

“morax, i love you endlessly.”

when his time on earth finally comes to an end, he makes his way along the path of the afterlife. his way is trimmed with gold and crystals of such fine quality that even he, the old god of geo, cannot fathom. as he lumbers along, he hears the distant sound of laughter. his heartbeat quickens; he hadn’t conjured that angelic sound in lifetimes, but he knows it when he hears it. 

as he continues along the path, several figures emerge ahead. one is taller than the others, and surrounded in light. the smaller bodies playfully circle the hem of its flowing ankle-length dress, tiny chuckles surrounding what, by all rights, appear in zhongli’s eyes to be a goddess. as he draws nearer, he recognizes your voices but his mind dares not allow his heart to be so presumptuous or hopeful. 

“morax…”

“zhongli, hm?”

he smiles.

“funeral parlor consultant?”

his knowing smile widens at being found out, a chuckle threatening to escape.

“you faked your own death so you could retire in peace…but forgot to set aside a retirement fund?”

“it seems you’ve been keeping an eye on me.”

your laughter puts his old broken heart back together. “indeed! you’ve always had the most idiosyncratic sense of humor and forgotten the minutest of details. perhaps if you had been the dendro archon, you could better see the forest for the trees.”

morax would make a fool of himself a million years over to be the source of your joy. his heart blooms at the sight of your smile - more beautiful than the most meticulous painting; more moving than the most lifelike sculpt of the finest artists; the sound of your laughter more celestial than any song ever performed in all of teyvat, including that of the drunken, insufferable bard that, for reasons he will never comprehend, his old friend barbatos chose to inhabit as his vessel. 

“so…that means you saw-”

“everything.”

he averts his eyes as the reel of his most recent past plays in his mind. had you also seen him with his subsequent lovers?

as though having read his mind, you close the gap between you, bringing a hand - glowing an ethereal light blue - to his face. “it’s okay, my love,” you assure him. “i’ve only ever wanted for your happiness. i never expected to be the last love in your long life.”

his amber eyes find familiarity in your gaze, a sense of home in your touch. “but you'll always be the best,” he says, taking your hand in his and kissing your wrist, your scent there reminding him of home as well.

you smile lovingly as you eliminate what little space remained between your ethereal bodies. the cherubic voices of his young children now dance around the bare feet of both their bearers. with your attention drawn to them and their obvious love and affection for their father, you ask him, finally, 

“will you be staying with us, morax?”

“yes.” he cups your delicate jaw in his golden hand. “there is nowhere else i would rather be, my love,” he mutters, the warmth of his breath dusting your face before he reclaims your lips, relinquishing the entirety of his past - his rise, his reign, his ruin - to his final resting place, with you.

zhongli m.list

reblogs and the like are loved, just like you ♡

[glitterarygetsit]

I've said most of this on Twitter already, but here is my Obligatory OFMD Finale Feels post.

In short: I'm disappointed on a plot and character level and people are right to say it's ableist, but I mainly think the writers fucked up while trying to do something positive. A lot of this is conjecture, and it doesn't absolve the creators for making the mistakes they did or continuing to preach kindness and happy endings in interviews, but I think it makes sense and frames OFMD as an effort to make a show that is far more progressive than most other shows, but still really, really fucked up without meaning to.

Looking at the timeline, the show got renewed in June 2022, and was filming by September. The fandom has had a full year to explore Izzy's character and get more attached to him than the writers, who got about 3 months to gauge audience reaction and potentially rewrite his whole arc, could have expected.

I think the fact that the writers seem to have tried to give a fan favourite an arc in which he achieves happiness and self-actualisation is laudable. The problem is that in doing so, they made him even more of an avatar of queer and disabled survival while failing to change the endpoint they had planned for him. As a result, when he died, he wasn't just a complex deuteragonist with an arc that served the main story who saw the error of his ways, but a protagonist who had come to represent the themes of survival and acceptance that the show has embodied from the start.

The fact that s2 explicitly gave Izzy an arc about becoming disabled and coming to terms with it is what invokes the "bury your cripples" trope, and the idea that being disabled makes life not worth living despite earlier episodes (and other characters!) in the series explicitly demonstrating the contrary. If we look at his death as something the writers viewed as a fixed canon event, it's clear that they badly fumbled the ending, thinking they'd given him peace at the end when what they'd actually done was rip the prospect of more peace and happiness from him.

The way Izzy's death and funeral were handled--the in-universe inconsistency of having his fatal wound be on the left side, the cruelty of the British noticing his golden leg, the implication of something beyond the grave by having possibly-seagull-Buttons landing on his grave and denying us the closure of knowing that's the end, as well as separating him from his community and from his prosthetic were repeated slaps in the face that I see as the result of internalised ableism and trying to force a character that had grown beyond his original narrative purpose back into a predetermined fate. To me djenks' garbled rewriting of Izzy's relationship with Ed in interviews confirms that the character broke the bounds of its intended purpose and left the writers unsure what to do with him.

Ultimately, I don't think djenks and the writers intended to be cruel. I think they're the products of an ableist, racist, homophobic society with a lot of internalised prejudice who should have hired a disability consultant for their silly pirate show that unexpectedly punches far above its weight in terms of representation. Still, I can absolutely understand why viewers might feel that the failure to account for their internalised ableism is enough of a betrayal to stop watching. I do hope those viewers can still find joy and representation in the fandom going forward; if they move on to another show, our fandom will be poorer for it, and I think other fans need to recognise the hurt they're going through and use this experience as an impetus to create better-informed fanworks themselves.

I'm not especially interested in litigating whether OFMD signposted this from the start or is breaking or sticking to genre conventions or three-act-structures or whether it broke in-universe rules (it did, though. bite me.) Izzy's death was neither an inevitable beat in a well-told story nor evidence of an intentional shift towards Game-of-Thrones-style cruel and pointless deaths. They just fucked up, badly, and I hope they'll do better in future.

[merrock]

CHARACTER INFORMATION

face claim: ana de armas

full name: camille estelle strauss (neé moreno)

nickname(s) / goes by: cami

pronouns & gender: cis woman

sexuality: bisexual

birth date: november 29th, 1988

birth place: merrock

arrival to merrock: local 

housing: the coast & pier

occupation: unemployed, previously a lawyer

work place: --

family: nathaniel strauss ( husband ), noah strauss ( son )

relationship status: married ( much to her dismay )

PERSONALITY

Possessing a complex and multifaceted personality, Camille exudes a palpable aura of ambition and determination. She's a formidable presence in the courtroom, showcasing a fierce intellect and unwavering resolve, making her a force to be reckoned with. However, on the flip side, Camille's intense drive can sometimes border on ruthlessness, causing her to be seen as single-minded and even manipulative at times - something she's starting to discover even more as of late. Lately, her fiery temperament and bitterness has Camille blissfully strolling down a path of self-destruction. Escapism mixed with pettiness has become her new favorite recipe. Camille is the type who will gladly hold grudges and has no qualms in letting her opinions known. As a result, some will find Camille's company to be insufferable, though she's been known to warm up to those who she actually cares for. She's fiercely loyal, bold, and brash, and her words are always accompanied by a sharp wit. When it comes to Camille, you either love her or hate her - there's no in-between.

WRITTEN BY: Lu (she/her), mst.

BACKGROUND / BIO

Hailing in from the charming town of Merrock, Camille Moreno grew up in the embrace of a prominent and respected family within their small community. From a young age, her life was seemingly set on a predetermined course, destined to follow in her father's footsteps.

Her journey growing up even led her to an Ivy League institution, where she honed her legal skills, embodying the very essence of ambition and determination. It wasn't long before Camille was known as a force in the courtroom, commanding respect with every argument she presented, even as an intern. It was during her academic pursuits that she then crossed paths with Nathaniel Strauss, a fellow law student who was just a few years ahead of her.

Most would say that their 'love' story was about as conventional as they came. There was love there, no doubt about it, but the novelty of it all clouded their judgment on how fit they really were for one another. Still, Camille had seemingly achieved the pinnacle of what was expected of her. She married young and a few years later, the pair welcomed their son into the world. It was everything she thought she meant to do.

However, fate had a different plan.

For years, Camille lived under the impression that when the time came, she'd step up to the plate as her father's partner at his esteemed law firm. And it wasn't because she was her daughter, but because she knew she deserved it. Camille was a powerhouse in her career and she knew her father saw the same in her. So when he announced that he was taking on Nathaniel—her own husband—it ignited a firestorm of fury and frustration within her. The rejection shattered her sense of belonging, prompting a dramatic shift in her life's trajectory.

As composed as she seemed at first, Camille spent weeks upon weeks fuming from her father's choice. Until eventually the rage that filled her had her shunning her legal career and succumbing to the allure of escapism. Without much thought, Camille started to descend into a life of indulgence, drowning her sorrows in alcohol, self-medicating her bitterness. She found herself limiting her contact with her family and resigning from a field she once thought was her kingdom. Gone was the driven lawyer, replaced by a disillusioned housewife. Though, not just any disillusioned housewife. One who now reveled in flirtations, wild parties, and excessive drinking while harboring a deep resentment for the men she felt had wronged her.

Now, Camille spends most of her days living off the wealth of her retired career while downing one too many glasses of wine before lunch has even begun. Her relationship with her husband sits on thin ice, and the need to indulge in life's vices has become a regular routine. She's determined to do right for her son, but apart from that, Camille can't help but say fuck it as she sticks her middle finger up for the rest of the world.

[uvobreakmylegs]

Predetermined

wanted to start a new year of writing off with a bang >:D

Soulmate AU (red thread of fate)

Warnings: stalking, mentions of kidnapping, graphic depictions of violence, gore, blood, death, threats of violence

Word count: 9k

When Feitan noticed the red thread that hung from his pinky finger and trailed off in a random direction in the middle of the afternoon, he found himself hesitant to follow it.

He knew that he needed to follow and find whoever was at the end of it if just for the sake of his own nen abilities. To boost them as well as ensure that he would still have them by keeping his soulmate alive. It was something everyone in the troupe needed to do, to secure their soulmate once they discovered them, and they all would have done so regardless of Chrollo's instruction. No one wanted to lose their ability to use nen.

But the fact that his use of nen was tied to some random person that he knew nothing about had the concept of soulmates leaving a sour taste in Feitan's mouth. Whoever was attached to the end of that thread was someone that he would ultimately need to take care of, regardless of if he even liked them or not. All because of some oddity with the way nen worked that was completely out of his control.

And it was more than likely that whoever this person was, they wouldn't be able to see the thread, so they wouldn't understand the significance of meeting him. Feitan would either need to take a slower approach by building up a relationship in a natural manner, as Chrollo and Shalnark had done, or a more straight-forward approach by just taking them and going from there, which was the way Uvogin and Nobunaga had gone about things.

Feitan already felt more inclined towards the latter option. He was just passing through this particular area and had no plans to stay long. Along with the fact that he wasn't the most sociable or approachable person around, it was just more practical to go with the second choice.

He quietly sighed as he began to follow the thread, finding himself wishing that his circumstances might be more like Pakunoda's; she'd been lucky enough that her soulmate was able to see the thread and understood what it meant, though they didn't seem to have a complete understanding of nen. Though he backtracked a bit on calling her “lucky”. Paku's soulmate followed her around like a lovesick puppy, and though Pakunoda seemed to enjoy doting on them, Feitan knew he would quickly get tired of someone like that.

Though Feitan generally avoided any personal conversations, after seeing Paku's soulmate and the way she acted around them, his curiosity was great enough that he couldn't help but question her when they happened to be alone together.

“You really care for them?”

“Hm?”

Pakunoda had looked to him and waited for him to elaborate.

“Your soulmate,” he continued, “you care even though they're weak. Why?”

Feitan had always been annoyed with the concept, but he never mentioned it aloud too much as Phinks often grumbled about it out loud enough to count for the both of them. Though she had rarely commented on it, Feitan had gotten the sense that Pakunoda felt similarly. Maybe not quite on the level of annoyance that he and Phinks felt, but that at the very least she was displeased by the concept.

But now that Paku had found her soulmate, it seemed to be a different story. She doted on them, provided for them and took them out on dates, and generally the two seemed to be enjoying their time together.

The whole thing felt odd given her previous attitude, and after seeing her soulmate he struggled to understand what it was about them that changed her mind.

“What brought this on?” she asked him.

He paused for a slight moment, trying to think of the correct words and keeping himself from giving his honest opinion about her soulmate. While he didn't have any particularly deep ties with her, he did have respect for her and wanted to avoid making her upset. It was also guaranteed that if he managed to go that far, not only would he have Pakunoda being angry with him, but he'd have to deal with Machi being snippy with him as well.

“You've been different,” Feitan answered.

“Since meeting them?”

Feitan nodded at her question, and Paku chuckled. She went back to polishing her revolver as she answered “Why I care for them. Hm. I suppose part of it is because I'm supposed to.”

“Because of your nen,” he said.

“It would be inconvenient if I no longer could use my Memory Bomb.”

That, Feitan could understand. He had heard stories of people with amazing abilities who had them one day and then had lost them the next, all because their soulmate had unexpectedly died. He also knew that Chrollo had lost at least one of his stolen abilities that way.

But if it was just that, then why would Pakunoda do all of the other, unnecessary things for them?

“You said it was only part of it?” Feitan asked.

“Yes. There's a bit more to it than taking care of them because I need to.”

“Like what?���

She paused, and then shook her head as she answered “I'm not sure I can accurately explain it.”

His brows furrowed as she continued “I think it's something that you'll understand when you run into your soulmate, Feitan.”

It wasn't an response that he was happy with as it didn't really answer his question, and he let that be known when tsked at that. Pakunoda must've been expecting that reaction as she wasn't at all offended.

When he looked back to her, she was still doing the maintenance on her gun, but her eyes were distant and there was a small smile on her lips.

Was she thinking about her soulmate?

He still didn't understand, and now he needed to go off and find who was waiting for him despite that fact.

With his shoulders sagging, he did as Chrollo had instructed and set off to follow the thread and find whoever was at the end of it. Thinking of the person connected to Pakunoda once again, he still didn't like the idea of being stuck with someone who might cling to him as they did with her.

Whoever you were, he hoped that you wouldn't be too needy.

Feitan's hands were clenched into fists in his pockets and his eyes were staring daggers at you, his soulmate, while you sat with a woman on a bench at the edge of a park. Looking for the dozenth time at the thread that was trailing from his own left hand, his eyes tracked where the thread led and once more he found that it went straight to you. When you moved your hand to brush some hair behind your ear the thread moved with you, and confirmed again that you were the one he was connected to.

You were it.

His soulmate.

And though he couldn't discern much about you or your personality just from watching you sit on a bench, the annoyance he had felt when first seeing the thread had turned into a slowly building anger, not necessarily at you but at a piece of your clothing.

Why the hell were you wearing Hisoka's merchandise?

Feitan knew enough about Heavens Arena to know that it wasn't a place that interested him; the entire tower was crawling with nen users of a lesser caliber, even most of the floor masters were amateurs. He was certain if Chrollo gathered the troupe, all thirteen members could wipe out the entire building within the hour. So why his boss held a position as a floor master he had no clue. It seemed like a worthless position to him.

He and Phinks had gone once just to see if there was anything worthwhile at the tower, and all they were met with was disappointment at seeing how weak the fighters were, and disgust when they saw the stalls outside of the tower that were selling a ridiculous amount of merchandise with Hisoka's name and face plastered all over it. Although in this circumstance, Feitan could understand why the clown might have a bit of popularity. As much as he didn't like him, Feitan could admit that Hisoka was leagues beyond the average fighter at the arena.

But the sight had still irritated him and Phinks to no end, and when, at the end of the day, the two spiders had come across one of those vendors as he was heading back home with his cart full of wares, they had beaten the man up and set fire to anything even remotely related to the clown.

It had been petty, even for them, but he couldn't deny that it had been satisfying.

Feitan had remembered the scarves as they had taken longer than expected to burn, and after all of that he found it unpleasant to see one of those things around your neck.

And there was no doubt that it had come from Heavens Arena. On one end were the symbols of a card deck: club, spade, heart and diamond. That alone wouldn't have immediately told him that it was Hisoka-related, but what did was the other end of the scarf that featured a brightly colored star and teardrop. All of those combined with the gaudy colors of the scarf itself confirmed that it was designed with Hisoka in mind, and his anger bubbled up further.

If there was anything like Paku had said, any feelings that compelled him to care about you, they were overshadowed by the fact that you were wearing that trash clown's imagery.

But Feitan forced himself to calm down. As much as he wanted to march over to where you sat and kick you for your horrible taste, the setting was far too public. Too many people who could witness him and raise the alarm when they saw a man attacking a random person who had just been sitting and minding their own business. Trying to kidnap you in such a space would be far too stupid as it would draw unnecessary attention towards him.

The correct thing to do at the moment was to wait until you were alone and then take you. And then he'd be able to berate you as much as he liked.

He just needed to wait for you to be alone.

Unfortunately for him, it didn't seem like that would be happening any time soon. You were still sitting with that woman, chatting away and completely oblivious to the fact that someone was watching you. The woman you were with seemed to be a friend of yours, just based off of your body language as you spoke with her and how close the two of you were willing to sit next to each other. And after a while, he could only assume that you two were waiting on a third party. Both of you were checking your cellphones frequently and looking about as you talked, trying to spot whoever it was you were waiting for as you occasionally rubbed your hands together in an effort to keep yourself warm.

Your eyes had gone over him a few times, although after the third time he realized that he hadn't moved from where he had first stopped to stare at you. If you actually took the time to look at him, you would see that he was very obviously watching you, which was very likely to cause problems as you would undoubtedly be unsettled over the realization that a man had stopped in his tracks to stare at you.

He sat down at a different bench a little bit away from you, no longer facing you but he still had you in his line of sight. In an attempt to make sure that he blended into the background, he pulled out a book he had on him, flipping to a random page while he pretended to read as he kept an eye on you.

You were none the wiser to his presence.

Eight minutes later there was a development as whoever you and your friend had been waiting for had finally arrived.

Two men, one of whom seemed to be in a relationship with your friend, as she jumped up, ran over and gave the one a quick peck on the lips.

Public displays of affection like that annoyed him even on days when he was in a better mood, and his irritation just continued to increase as he looked back to you, trying to figure out what was going on.

With the distance and the noise caused by the other people in the area, it was hard to hear anything of the conversation between the four of you, but from the motions and the body language that he saw, you were being introduced to the second man, one with light-colored hair and glasses, the one who your friend didn't seem to be dating. You were shyly smiling at him as you shook his hand, and Feitan's brows furrowed, irritation bubbling up again, although this time he couldn't say what exactly about the scene was causing it.

Still unable to hear anything, Feitan could only watch as the four of you spoke for a few moments. It looked like your friend was scolding the two men for keeping the two of you waiting, and her boyfriend seemed to be putting the blame on the man with glasses, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder in a way that reminded Feitan of Uvogin and Nobunaga. Overall there was little to be impressed with when it came to the people that you were spending your time with; he could've sliced their heads off within moments if he really wanted to. But as Feitan waited a short moment and began to follow your group as you began to walk out of the area, he reminded himself that he didn't know what any of their life situations were, and that the possibility existed that it could be discovered quickly if he slaughtered them and took you away afterwards. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't care about something like that. But since he would need to have you travel with him and keep you alive as he did so, it was a better idea to wait until you were alone so those around you wouldn't immediately know that there was something wrong.

Not to mention that a single disappearance would attract less attention than a disappearance combined with a triple-homicide.

Once more he kept you within his line of sight while also keeping a slight distance from your group. During his time with the troupe, Feitan had tailed enough people to know how close to his target he could allow himself to be without arousing any suspicion. Though he could probably allow himself to get a bit closer to you. He doubted any of you had reason to be worried about the possibility of being followed. Just as long as none of you noticed him, he could get closer and see if he could catch any of your conversation with the light-haired man.

Your group of four had broken off into pairs, with your friend and her boyfriend walking ahead of you and the other man. The one who had paired off with you was walking a little too close to you, he felt. Acting a little too familiar with you.

But you had clearly only just met the man. Why would.....

Then it clicked for him.

You were going on a double date.

Not even thirty minutes had gone by since seeing you for the first time, and now along with seeing you in that stupid fucking scarf, Feitan needed to watch you, his soulmate, going on a date with another man.

Of all the things he needed to sit through, why did it end up being this?

He found himself envying Pakunoda once again, as her soulmate's ability to use gyo meant that she didn't need to go through anything as infuriating as this. Killing the others was starting to look more and more appealing.

“So, you a fan of Heavens Arena?”

Feitan was now close enough to actually hear your conversation, and he focused on that when he heard the man next to you ask you that as he pointed at your scarf.

You looked a bit confused as you asked “is that a game or something?”

…. A game?

Your date seemed as confused as he was.

“No? It's this fighting tower in the Republic of Padokea,” your date explained, “I just asked because I recognized your scarf as merch for one of the fighters there.”

“Really? I had no clue,” you said, looking at your scarf as you continued “my cousin didn't want this anymore so they offered it to me. I just thought it was a cool-looking scarf. I don't know anything about an arena.”

“Yeah, I've seen that sold there during the times I've gone. Although I think they were out of them last time.”

“Ah, okay. So this is merch for the arena itself or...?”

“The only person that could've been made for is this guy called Hisoka.”

“Hisoka? Is he cool?”

“.... I guess that depends on your definition of 'cool'.”

Feitan found himself tuning out once the conversation turned towards a discussion about Hisoka, choosing to just focus on tailing you.

Oddly enough, he felt a little less irritated with you. You were still an idiot for wearing something that you didn't know the meaning of, but somehow it felt a little better to know that you weren't actually a fan of Hisoka's. And based off the expression that was on your face as your date told you about him, it didn't seem like you would like him if you did watch any of his fights.

It didn't excuse you entirely, but at least you now had something in your favor.

Feitan stayed outside when your group entered a restaurant, finding a spot on the other side of the street where he was out of sight. Not that you could've seen him from where you were inside the building. He couldn't see you either, but he could keep track of how much you moved inside by keeping an eye on the thread that connected the two of you. It wasn't the most ideal way to watch you, especially when you were in there with another man who had his sights set on you.

But when he considered the setting, a busy restaurant full of people, he reassured himself that there wouldn't be much that your date could do to you.

The thread stayed in place, and after about forty minutes it grew more taut as you and your group were leaving the restaurant. He briefly hoped that you'd be done with the double date and head off to somewhere so he could grab you, but that thinking turned out to be a bit too wishful as you all happily continued along your way.

Feitan continued to tail you, although this time he stayed on the other side of the street, once again making sure that it wasn't obvious that he was following you four.

At least this time sitting back and watching you was made a bit more tolerable due to the fact that you were more focused on chatting with your female friend, walking along with her while the two men were talking among themselves.

But the man that you had initially been paired up with kept looking at you. And the look on his face reminded him too much of an expression he had seen on the face of Pakunoda's soulmate when he'd seen the way they looked at her.

An irritating, clingy person.

Your date got close to you again, slinking up next to you and placing an arm around your shoulder.

You seemed a bit surprised, but other than that, you didn't seem to mind.

Feitan took in a deep breath, trying to keep his composure.

He just needed to wait until you were alone.

And then you would know better.

Fortunately your next destination was closer, as the four of you stopped when you came across a movie theatre. It seemed that the second part of your date plans was to see a film, and the four of you got in line to purchase tickets.

In the time that it took you to purchase your tickets, Feitan had made his way around the building and found an employee-only entrance. It was locked, but it was easy enough for him to force the door open and walk right in.

Inwardly he found himself hoping that he might come across some employee who would realize that he wasn't supposed to be there and confront him. After watching you acting so familiar with that man, it'd be nice to take that frustration out on someone, even if it meant he'd need to stuff a body in a closet after.

That opportunity didn't come as he managed to not come across any employees who cared enough to try and stop him, all those that he did see too busy with their own tasks to take note of him. He even spotted a girl who was hanging out on her phone in a break room, and although she had clearly seen him, she didn't follow out after him when he walked past.

A smart move on her part, whether she had realized it or not, but it did little to lift his mood.

He walked into different theatres featuring different films, scanning the seats for you and your group.

Feitan found the four of you sitting in for a showing of some stupid slasher film, talking quietly amongst yourselves as the advertisements were playing. He picked a spot in a back corner, where he was more easily hidden and could still keep an eye on you. There also weren't many people in the theatre, and since most people would be focused on the film, he wouldn't need to worry about anyone noticing the way he stared at you.

The film was just as bad as he thought it would be, and based off of the small amounts of stifled laughter he could occasionally hear coming from your direction, it seemed that the purpose of coming to see this thing was to make fun of the bad acting and horribly fake special effects. What a stupid waste of time.

Then, in the middle of the movie, you got up.

He heard you whisper the word “bathroom” before you made your way out of the row and down the aisle, keeping a bit low in an effort to not ruin the movie experience for the others in the theatre.

Feitan kept his eyes on you until you had exited the room completely.

You had left.

You were finally separated from that group.

He didn't immediately follow you. If anyone did happen to be paying attention, he didn't want it to be obvious that he was going after you. He kept an eye on the others, making sure none of them would suddenly decide that they also needed to leave.

They remained in their seats, and after a few more moments, Feitan exited the theatre.

As he walked back down the hallway, he tried to figure out what would be the best course of action. Knocking you out seemed to be the only way to make you come quietly with him. Nothing he could say or do would make you agree to go with him willingly. Unless he threatened you. But even if he did that, the area outside the building was still busy with too many people around. If he did forcibly take you in that way, the temptation to try and get help by causing a scene might be too much for you to resist.

He'd knock you out then. It might look odd to anyone who saw the two of you, but he could just keep to side streets and if anybody did ask about you, he could just tell them you were drunk. That excuse wouldn't be too unbelievable.

And then what? Once he had you and got you out of the city, what was he going to do then? He'd never actually planned out what he was going to do with his soulmate once he found them. It was one of those things that he told himself he would get to but never did, and now that decision to wait until later seemed to have come back to bite him.

He had a place he could take you, a place he usually went to whenever the troupe wasn't gathered and one that was away from civilization. It had a few unused rooms, so it'd be easy enough to toss you into one of them along with enough food and water to make sure that you wouldn't die of starvation or dehydration. But the biggest issue would just be getting you there as his place was in an entirely different continent. And with the amount of time it would take to get you there..... Would he be able to keep you in line for that long, or would he need to resort to knocking you out and smuggling you in a suitcase?

All of that depended on how much trouble you wanted to make for him.

His thoughts went back to his home, and how you would undoubtedly be disgusted by the amount and manner of tools he utilized for his torture. And being forced to stay locked up in some random room would also be unpleasant for you.

….. Why did he care about what you thought?

Then he spotted you.

You were coming out of one of the bathrooms, walking straight towards him.

Feitan stopped, keeping his eyes on you as you came closer.

You didn't notice him at first, too busy looking at the posters for upcoming movies that had been plastered all over the walls, humming to yourself when you saw one that you were interested in.

He stayed still, waiting for you to get closer, keeping his eyes on you the whole time.

It was when you were just about to pass him by was when you saw him.

The two of you made eye contact, and at that point you gave him a polite smile as you acknowledged him.

Feitan continued to stare at you.

And when you were opposite him in the hallway was when your pace slowed and that small smile fell from your face as you grew more unsettled by the way he was looking at you.

This was it. The perfect time to take you. You were alone and weak and wouldn't be able to fight him.

Just one swift chop to the neck and this part of this ordeal would be over.

But he didn't do anything.

Didn't say anything.

And neither did you.

And after a few moments of silent tension, you sped up, power-walking back to where your friends were while casting back nervous glances over your shoulder. Feitan kept watching you, turning around when you left his field of vision so he could watch you retreat back to your group. That seemed to unsettle you further, and you all but ran back to the theatre where your friends sat.

It was the first interaction with you, and he had terrified you while simultaneously wasting the first chance he had gotten to take you away.

Why had he done that?

Why was he letting you go back to the relative safety of that group? And back to that man who was trying to get his hands on what was his.

…. His?

It only then occurred to him the way he'd been referring to you in his head. Although technically he wasn't wrong, it felt odd to be referring to you in such a possessive manner. Wrong, even. Especially when you were still a stranger to him.

He thought of you, everything about you that he had noticed after observing you, and while he couldn't say that you were completely annoying, he couldn't see anything to like about you.

Soulmates were supposed to at least like each other, weren't they?

His thoughts went back to Pakunoda, and her reaction that had surprised him so much. She was clearly in love with the partner fate had paired her with. And the others who had met theirs seemed relatively happy as well.

He'd never bothered to ask the likes of Uvogin or Shalnark about how they felt, mostly because it seemed likely they would tease him over it. But if he had, would they have given him a similar answer?

He felt the irritation growing within him again, but he tried to focus on the task at hand.

It was possible that you hadn't yet made it back to the theatre. Should he still try to take you now?

….. No.

Now that he thought it over, taking you in the middle of your double date wasn't a good idea at all. Your absence would be noticed too quickly, and getting a head start before it was discovered that you were missing would be preferable. It would be easier to take you away if he waited until nighttime. So although he found that his patience was wearing thin, Feitan told himself to wait.

Feitan walked back into the room and found his seat, although this time he wasn't bothering keeping his movements a secret.

You were sitting with your group again, but your head turned when you heard the door open, and you looked worried when you saw him staring at you again. Even after he returned to his seat, Feitan kept his eyes on you, and he couldn't help smirking every time you looked back to find him to still be watching you. Your form became stiff as you desperately tried to focus on the movie, and though it seemed you were trying not to, you kept looking back at him, seemingly in an effort to try and figure out what it was he wanted from you. Your friends managed not to notice, all of them too engrossed in the movie to notice your distress.

It seemed stupid of you to not say anything to them. Did you just not want to ruin your outing because you possibly felt that you were overreacting?

Or had you also sensed something when you had seen him? Despite how clearly uncomfortable he had made you, perhaps even with your lack of nen, you were able to tell that you were connected to him in some way.

….. That seemed like more wishful thinking. And even more strange was that Feitan found himself hoping that was the case, despite how unlikely that was.

Nothing much else happened for the remainder of the film's running time; you would glance at him occasionally and find that he was still watching you, and all the while your friends remained oblivious to your current state.

He left when the lights turned back on, exiting the building and waiting in a spot outside where you wouldn't be able to see him easily. Your group left the building not long after, and while the others were chatting away, you were noticeably quiet, glancing about you every few seconds, likely wondering just where he'd run off to.

That friend of yours finally noticed when she turned towards you.

“Are you okay?” she asked you, “you don't look so good.”

“Ah, I'm.. I'm not feeling too well, actually,” you said, “I'm sorry, but it might better for me if I head home.”

“Really? What's wrong?”

“I'm thinking it might be something I ate at that last place,” you answered.

“So it's food poisoning?” your date asked.

“Maybe. Either way I don't think going out for a dessert is a good idea. I'm really sorry,” you said.

The group was understanding, telling you that you were fine and to take it easy. That you all could go out again another day.

And then your date stepped forward and said “let me walk you back.”

Feitan felt the anger bubble up again when he saw how relieved you looked when he said that.

During the third and final time that he tailed you, you looked nervous. You were far more alert now, consistently checking over your shoulder for any signs of being followed. For any signs of him. This time Feitan made an effort to keep hidden, and although you didn't catch any sight of him, there was something telling you that you needed to be on the look out.

Your date noticed as well, and he asked you about it after a while.

“.... There was a freaky guy at the theatre,” you told him, “I ran into him when I was coming back from the bathroom, and he was just.... Standing in the hallway, and staring at me. He just looked so mad at me, and I have no clue what I would've done to make someone upset like that.”

“Maybe he thought you were someone he knew?” your date said.

“Maybe.... Still creeped me out, though.”

The man assured you that everything was fine, and although you didn't seem to believe him entirely, you agreed with him anyway.

What exactly was keeping you from telling your date about the rest of what Feitan had done? That you'd seen him staring at you several times during the movie. Was it a fear that he wouldn't believe you, or something else?

It was sunset when you reached an apartment building. Your apartment building, it turned out. You turned around to address the man who had accompanied you.

“Thanks for walking me back. Sorry if this wasn't the ending you were expecting,” you said.

“Not a problem. We can try again some other time.”

Absolutely not

You nodded, telling him “yeah. I'd like that.”

He smiled at that, and then looked as though he was going to turn and leave.

Maybe it was the lighting in the early evening. Maybe it was because the atmosphere seemed right. Maybe it was the way you shyly smiled at him. Or maybe it was just because he wanted to get something out of walking you back that your date did something.

He leaned in to kiss you.

And though you seemed surprised, once again you weren't doing anything to stop him.

And with that, the shreds of control and patience that Feitan had been clinging to all day were lost.

He was enraged.

The aura that emanated from him billowed out like smoke and hung around him like a cloud. Dark and murderous with every ounce of his rage seeping through, desperate for something to grab ahold of and tear to pieces, to do whatever unspeakable things it could until it was satisfied. The aura that surrounded him was significant enough that a group of birds that had been resting on the nearby telephone lines were compelled to fly away, an animal sense within them knowing better than to stay around and desperate to get away from him.

And despite your lack of abilities, you seemed to sense something was wrong as well.

Just before that man's lips could touch yours, you backed away. You were looking over in Feitan's direction, as if you had a sense for where he was watching you from. You caught sight of the birds flying away and looked scared.

“You okay?”

Your date looked concerned as well, though he focusing on you.

“Sorry,” was your shaky answer, “I'm really not feeling well.”

The man gave a small but rather weak smile in response.

“That's okay. You go inside and rest up, alright?”

You nodded, and the two of you shared a short goodbye, although the mood had dropped significantly now after you stopped him from kissing you. Without another word you made your way up to your apartment, and Feitan could hear your keys jingling as you pulled them out from your bag.

But he wasn't paying attention to you.

Though he was doing his best to reign himself in, and though he finally, finally had you in a place where you were actually alone, he had enough self-awareness to know that he couldn't see you right now. Not like this. If he approached you in his current state he'd likely do something to you that wouldn't be easily undone. Hurt you in some way that would be difficult for you to recover from.

You were his, and though he still felt that he should be able to do with you whatever he wanted, there was a voice inside of him that argued against going down that route.

No, he needed to take all of this out on someone else before he properly met you.

And as he looked to the man who was walking away from the apartment building, he knew who that someone would be.

The man was walking on a bridge over a small canal when Feitan confronted him. This time Feitan stood directly in the way as he pointedly looked at him.

The man hadn't noticed at first, distracted by his phone, and when he did see him, he just seemed confused as he raised an eyebrow.

He began to question Feitan as he asked “you need help with something, budd-”

Feitan cut him off by way of punching him in the stomach.

After that, a punch to the throat to crush his windpipe and keep him from crying out.

What followed was what could only be described as a frenzied attack. Skin was sliced, teeth were knocked out, bones were broken as all of those noises echoed against the surface of the largely empty canal. A pool of blood spatter slowly grew around the them, more and more of the red staining the both of them as the attack continued. There was little that the man could do to defend himself, and every time he tried to block another hit Feitan just hit him harder.

When his arms had been broken in several places the man found a chance to run, turning and limping away as fast as he could while he tried to croak out a scream for help. Feitan sharpened his nails into points and rushed forward to slice the man's legs, cutting through muscles and leaving him unable to even stand, much less run away. The man was trying to crawl away, his hands desperately reaching in front of him and trying to find something to pull himself with while he wheezed at the pain that came from using his arms.

He couldn't quite remember how he had gotten to that point, but Feitan had pulled the man up onto his knees, yanking him over to the metal railing that stood on the edge of the bridge while he held the man up by his hair and the shoulder of his jacket-

And he began to slam the man's face down into the railing.

The man didn't last much longer. He was likely already dead on the first or second time his face connected with the metal, if he was even still alive when Feitan had hauled him up. But Feitan continued, slamming that man's face into the railing, pulling him back to see his face gashed open and covered in blood while the railing had bent slightly from the amount of force he had used.

Even when the man's arms flailed about like a ragdolls.

Even when the indent in the railing became more and more pronounced.

Even when it became harder to keep his grip in the hair because of how slick it had become from the amount of blood that came spurting from his broken face.

Over and over and over again.

He was only brought out of it when he pulled back again and found that the man's head slipped from his grasp, and when he looked at it that time, he found there wasn't much left to even be called a head. The back of the skull and the hair that was now slick with blood, and the majority of the jaw. A few of the teeth had managed to stay in, and the tongue was still twitching, lolling out of one side of the jaw and hanging there limply. Other than that there was very little left in the remains of his mouth. As for the rest of the skull, the brain and everything else, it was either dripping down onto the man's shoulders and chest, had fallen down to the bridge's surface and the canal below, or was smeared against the beat up railing.

With the confirmation that the man was well and truly dead, Feitan finally let go completely, allowing the corpse to fall to the pavement.

Outwardly Feitan only looked a little bit better than your former date: his clothing was now sticky with blood, any part of his clothes that weren't black were now stained red. Quite a bit had managed to land on his face and hair, and it dripped down his neck and went down underneath his clothing. His hands were messier, completely red and looking as though he had dipped them into a tub of blood, the liquid dripping off the tips of his fingers and his nails having turned dark.

But he felt calmer now.

The frustration and anger that had been building up all day were gone, and now he felt like he'd be able to face you without any fear of harming you.

As he looked at the scene he had created, he had to remark on just how bloody and violent it was. He wasn't a stranger to such scenes, but he had never killed anyone in a way that was quite as haphazard and emotional as he had done now. What was the term..... A crime of passion?

It felt odd for him to have done, though he was certain both Phinks and Uvo would've been amused if they saw this.

There was no way to hide all of this, not unless Shizuku just happened to be in the area. Not that he was going to take the time to check; now that this was over, he wanted to see you and he couldn't care less about the crime scene he had left behind.

So much for no homicides.

The bloodstains his shoes left on the pavement grew more and more faint the further he walked, focusing on the thread as he made his way back to you. He hadn't thought of it before, but the thread would be a good tool to use to find you if you ever tried to run away from him. As long as he was in a certain range of you, he'd be able to track you down. And since you couldn't see it, you would have no idea as to how he would be able to find you.

Maybe he would keep you largely ignorant of nen just to keep you off-guard.

The thread grew taut again as he made his way back to you, and just in time; as Feitan walked up the steps to your front door, it opened and you came out. You seemed a little frantic and slightly out of breath. There was a backpack slung over your shoulder and it hadn't been zipped shut completely. It looked as though you had stuffed it full of clothes and other essentials.

You were about to lock the door when you glanced over to him and froze, your eyes widening as you opened your mouth to gape at him.

It was a fair reaction to have: almost every part of visible skin covered in blood while his clothes were soaked in the stuff, looking very much like a crazed killer.

But that was fine. It was better that you knew exactly what kind of person he was.

You had abandoned the door and turned, seemingly to try and run from him. But Feitan was faster, and with a single push to your chest he sent you reeling back into the door. It fell open when you hit it, and after you got back up into a sitting position, you were quickly scooting backwards on your hands and feet as Feitan began to walk towards you, herding you back into the apartment.

He closed the door and turned the lock when he was far enough in, and when he looked back to you, you had backed up until you had hit a wall, staying still while you sat on the floor. You looked at him with a mixture of shock and fear again, although this time Feitan felt you had better reason to be reacting to him in that way.

Because of the state of his hand, he'd left a mark on your jacket when he pushed you. A red hand print that now featured prominently on your chest, and for some reason he found himself focusing on that.

Despite being forced back into the apartment, you hadn't said anything. You were clearly too scared to say or do anything until he made the first move.

But he soon broke the silence.

“You were trying to leave,” he said.

There was no point in bothering with a denial. You just gave a short nod.

“Why?”

“..... A bad feeling,” you told him.

Though still terrified, you were quite a bit calmer than he was expecting. Was it just the shock that was numbing your reaction, or had he been correct that you subconsciously understood what the connection was between the two of you?

He was inclined to say that it was the former.

Then you spoke.

“Did you..... Did you kill David?” you asked.

“Who?”

His response was flat, and he found himself distracted when he caught sight of your scarf again. You weren't wearing it when he'd caught you outside, so it was hanging near the front door. In another admittedly petty move he grabbed it and began to use it to wipe away the blood on his hands and face. Some of it had dried by this point, so he just ended up smearing the blood over his skin, but a good amount ended up soaking into the material of the scarf. At least the stupid thing had been useful for something, Feitan thought to himself as he dropped the thing to the floor.

Feitan looked back to you, his eyes narrowing as he was kept waiting for your response.

“Th-the guy who walked me back,” you finally clarified when you realized that he wanted you to speak.

“You mean the one that you were going to let kiss you?”

After hearing those words, tears started welling up in your eyes as you looked him over again and no doubt confirmed in your head as to what had happened to your date.

“Oh god.... Oh my god,” you repeated to yourself, “really? You really killed him?”

“If you don't believe me I can take you to see the body,” Feitan answered, smirking as he added “it hasn't been that long. I doubt it's been discovered yet.”

His suggestion of taking you to the crime scene shocked you, and his referring to your date as an “it” also had a negative effect on you. You were struggling to control your breathing with your hands over your mouth as you pulled your knees up into your chest.

Feitan had anticipated a reaction like that, although he had imagined there would be more screaming and yelling on your part. More of you getting loud and forcing him to gag you or knock you out. But you were keeping mostly quiet, and he found that he appreciated that fact.

A few more moments passed by before you tentatively asked him “a-are you going to kill me, too?”

Telling you that he had no intentions of killing you didn't seem like a good idea. Not right now, at least. Keeping the threat of death in your mind would be the best way to make you cooperate with him for now. Then later, when he had placed you in that secure location, he could tell you what all of this was about.

Although if you managed to convince yourself that he was leading you off to kill you elsewhere, there was still the issue of you possibly getting desperate enough to attempt to get help the first chance you were able.

In that case, he needed to take a precaution.

Lifting one of his hands up near his face, he made sure he had your attention when he used his nen to extend his fingernails. You couldn't see the aura that surrounded his hand, but you saw the way his nails suddenly grew and sharpened into points and you drew in a sharp breath.

He then stepped towards you. You flinched a little, but made no move to try and run. At least you knew better in that regard.

Feitan knelt down before you-

And used his hand to slice the air in front of you.

The results were immediate: the jacket you were wearing now had a cut that stretched from shoulder to shoulder, and the straps of your backpack had been sliced clean through. The only reason the bag hadn't fallen off your shoulders was because you had the thing pressed up between you and the wall.

You were breathing hard when he brought his hand close to your face, briefly running one of those nails down your cheek before he allowed his hand to return to normal.

“If you act out of line I'll slice your throat,” he said, “understand?”

You gave him a small nod, any words of you may have said seemingly caught up in your throat. Part of him almost wanted to force you to speak if just to see how far he could push you before you broke down. But he stopped himself. He needed to get you away from here, and the two of you would draw more suspicion if it was obvious that you'd had a meltdown of some kind.

Feitan stood back up, grabbed you by your arm, and began to walk further into your apartment, pulling you behind him. You didn't protest at all, only making a few sounds of pain and discomfort as he dragged you along.

You managed to bash your knee against a wall, and he stopped when he heard you cry out.

“Are you always so clumsy?” he asked.

You bit your lip.

He pulled you again, and let go once he'd found what he was looking for: the bathroom. When he released your arm you stumbled a bit, ending up sitting on the edge of the tub while you watched him cautiously. Feitan made his way towards the sink, turning the water on to full blast so as to clean off as much of the blood on him as he could. Red began to spill into the basin of the sink, and when he had gotten off as much as he could with the pressure of the water alone, he grabbed one of the towels that hung nearby to scrub at his hands.

Eventually he pulled off his bandanna so he could scrub at his face, and he looked back over to you, wondering if you would be curious about how he looked without the piece that covered half of his face.

His eyebrows furrowed when he saw that you weren't looking at him, instead looking intensely at something that was on the floor by his feet.

…. Oh.

When he followed your gaze, he found a bloody piece of bone fragment on the tiled floor. Some part of “David's” skull that still had a bit of muscle attached. It must've gotten stuck in the folds of his bandanna and he hadn't even noticed.

It seemed to be upsetting you. Though why that was he wasn't entirely sure. With the amount of blood and what he had told you earlier, all of that should have been enough to confirm that man's death. Was a little bit of bone fragment really worth tearing up over?

Still, he ended up kicking the fragment away just so it would be out of sight.

The towel he'd been using was very ruined by the amount of blood he'd soaked into it by the time he decided that he'd cleaned up as best he could. There were still smears of the liquid on his face and a fair amount in his hair, but the only way he'd get himself completely clean was by taking a shower, and that would eat up too much of his time. Maybe he'd allow himself that once the both of you were out of the immediate area.

Feitan turned back to you, and you stiffened. You still looked like you were on the verge of tears but were making an effort to keep them at bay.

You. His soulmate.

Someone he was tied to, and would take care of because he was supposed to.

For his abilities.

And something else.

He walked over to you, reaching out a hand and placing it on the top of your head. You were still as he trailed that hand down over your cheek and jaw, and when he used your jaw to tilt your head up slightly, you didn't fight him on it.

Something about that caused an odd sensation in his chest, and he thought again of what Pakunoda had said. That he would understand when he met you.

There was some annoyance that the unsatisfying answer had seemed to be correct.

“Will you do as I say?”

The question was unnecessary, he knew. He'd already made it clear that he wanted you to be obedient for him. But he wanted to ask anyway.

This time you were able to verbalize your response.

“Yes.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper, but you had pushed yourself to respond.

“Good.”

He followed that up by giving you a soft pat on the head. Regardless of how you felt about that action, you seemed to relax, if only slightly. That was what he wanted. For you to confirm to yourself that you would be fine if you followed his every word.

And Feitan would keep that act up until he had you where he wanted you, and then things would fall into place from there.

The two of you were soulmates, after all.

That much was guaranteed to happen.

[pompompurin1028]

A ⭐ and 🌸 with Dazai please, I just want to read his soft moments which are written by you 🥺

Thank you for the ask! I'm so glad you enjoyed reading them <3

Ask game: Send a character and an emoji

Ask Game Masterlist

⭐️ Do they believe that soulmates exist?

Dazai does not seem to be someone who believes in soulmates. There is just something almost binding about the thought that there was something like fate determining such things for him. The thought frustrates him. For to have a part of your life predetermined, what is to say that other parts of his life is not as well. And if all events are deterministic, then what is the point? What can possibly be left for the meaning of life that he searches? Yet, he cannot deny that the thought of being accepted entirely does not entice him even a little...

I personally see Dazai as someone who would value a partner even more without the concept of soulmates. To be loved wholly by you without the intervention of fate, but stemming from your own kindness and benevolence. To stay with him despite how troublesome he knows he is, and caring for him even though you could so easily leave him. To slowly develop this trust and his affections for you with time and intimacy. Doing so, out of your own violation, though can be frightening only makes your efforts more precious, and even more genuine. For that is the sincerity and humanity he searches for.

🌸 How often do they say ‘I love you’?

Declarations like "I love you" are not an often occurrence with Dazai. That does not mean he love you any less, and you can absolutely be assured of it with compliments and statements of affection coming from his lips. He can be embarrassing with it too, such as bothering Kunikida with things like "Kunikida-kun, aren't I lucky to have such an amazing partner?" or "You should be jealous that I am loved by someone as amazing as Y/N!" with a wide grin on his face. Yet, I like to think that "I love you"s with Dazai are often reserved. I can assure you that it took quite a while for Dazai to even utter such words for the first time, after not only placing the word for his feelings for you, but also allowing himself to accept the fact that he does indeed love you, for despite his the lies he weaves, he wishes for such a declaration of love to be genuine. Such words often fall from his mouth in moments of intimacy or vulnerability with only the two of you, and you cannot help but soften at them. But further into the relationship, after he had voiced his affections, in moments of intimacy if you told him that you loved him, he will always return your statement with a kiss upon your forehead.

[mc-lukanette]

WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S AROUND HER NECK?!?!?!?!?!?

Luka tried to ignore it at first. Maybe it was something Sass could explain to him whenever he saw him again. He just needed to be patient. It didn’t definitely mean something bad.

“Luka?”

He felt a hand touch his arm and glanced up from counting the clutter on the deck to see Marinette standing there, concerned.

“Are you okay?” she asked, giving his arm a light squeeze. “You’re a little pale.”

He put on his best smile, but couldn’t look at her directly, pretending like there was something important that was distracting him. “Yeah, I’m okay. I—”

“Hey, Marinette!”

“wAH—!”

Luka looked back as Adrien approached, the guy waving as if he hadn’t just made Marinette jump three feet into the air. Luka vaguely got some part of the conversation and the mention of Alya, but everything sounded distorted and muffled when his eyes drew back to Marinette.

The string had tightened around her neck. Luka sucked in a breath at the sight, finding it very hard to continue acting like nothing was wrong. His hand involuntarily reached out to touch the dangling part of the string near her waist, but his fingers just phased through it, and he had to pull back afterward so as to not look strange.

Whatever Adrien had been talking about, the chat must’ve ended with how he walked off from it. The string, meanwhile, loosened around Marinette’s neck, and she let out a sigh of what Luka felt was relief, though he might’ve been projecting.

Alya strolled up at that point, wrapping an arm around Marinette and leading her a small distance away. Luka guessed it was to spare him of the conversation, though Alya wasn’t exactly good at talking quietly; neither she nor Marinette were.

“Girl, you’ve gotta get it together!” she chided. Whether she was being judgmental or genuinely encouraging was difficult to determine. “Come on, that was the perfect opportunity!”

“I-I know,” Marinette replied weakly, though seeming more focused on the topic of acting “normal” than the topic of the crush. “I’m trying, really! Just... whenever I see his face, I get all light-headed and it’s hard to breathe. I forget words and then they all come out at once and none of them make sense.”

Alya rolled her eyes and snorted with a smile. “You’ve got it so bad.”

Luka felt sick, unable to even look down at the strings of his own guitar. He set it aside and quickly walked away from the group, hearing Marinette’s call but choosing to ignore it. He passed by the cabin and descended the stairs, shutting the door to the lounge room behind him and leaning back against it.

He sank until he was sitting on the ground, trying to take deep breaths in an attempt to calm down so as to not get akumatized. He raked his fingers through his hair, wishing desperately that he played any other instrument that wasn’t a string instrument right then. His mind flashed to the mental image of Adrien playing a piano, the tiny hammers striking the strings inside and turning them red one-by-one, Marinette staggering somewhere from the sudden reverb in her head and clutching at her chest while any train of thought she had was lost in the impact.

Could the string around her neck get tighter? Had it ever gotten tighter than what he’d just seen? He’d known that Marinette was trying to get over Adrien, but this--was this why she couldn’t? “Fate” wouldn’t let her?

What if it kept tightening?

Luka replayed everything that Sass told him and remembered specifically what he’d said about fate and the universe. Fate was predetermined and Luka had seen that himself, but he’d also changed it before. Even without the miraculous, he’d caught Marinette from a fall and the wisp had faded away instead of trying again.

But, that was also something simple. This went so much deeper. The red string of fate was a relationship, and the fact that he played a role in getting Juleka together with Rose didn’t necessarily mean he changed their fate or caused their strings to change.

What could he do?

[moonbaby26]

Title: Growing Love

Pairing: Loki x Goddess!Reader

Summary: Story set nearer the Viking Age. You were a Greek sea goddess who crossed paths with the god of mischief. Continuation of previous chapter. Loki returns to Asgard and is confronted by his mother Frigga and her accurate suspicions on his newfound interest in Midgard. While you witness the completion of the building erected for you and Loki by the villagers, followed by his return back to you in the night.

Warnings: None this chapter. Just fluff! First Loki and his mental sparring with Frigga who loves him, and then some well deserved cuddling with you who is also starting to.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @rosaline-black , @lawfeys , @loveableasshole , @insanitybyanothername , @just-wordsandthoughts , @cringingmemeries

My Masterlist

——————————

A few days ago, Asgard

Loki emerged from the light, now back home before the bifrost immediately closed once more. The smug smile remained on his face as your last question still played through his mind. He knew that nickname he’d given you wouldn’t be something you’d let go of anytime soon. In fact, he counted on it. Something to distract and occupy you for the coming weeks until he could return.

It may be selfish of course. But if you were becoming stuck in his mind this often, he had to make sure he wasn’t the only one now having to suffer. Though there was something rewarding about getting to hide you away still. Even if he knew the arrangement in the village would come to light eventually, potentially making these trips to your realm far more problematic.

The sooner he could find an alternate route to Midgard to bypass the bifrost and Heimdall entirely, the better. He could not allow all his future ability to see you to become solely dependent on Odin’s whims.

Whatever the Allfather would think of these risks now being taken though, Loki truly did not care. But historically, whatever he’d most desired always ended up taken away from him in one way or another. Or even worse, absorbed into the limitless well of good fortune that seemed to follow Thor like a miasma. So he had to prepare for that, plan for it really.

Of course, you didn’t seem the type to fall apart so easily over just some long blonde hair and an oversized set of muscles. But Loki had lost count ages ago of how many times he’d still ended up with the short end of the stick whenever his brother had entered any situation. Parading you before Thor wan’t something he was willing to chance just yet either.

No, he had to consider both his father and brother now as threats to these new emotions he was still trying to define. It likely shouldn’t be so, but somehow it always was. They always got in his way.

And as Loki now strode forward, his appearance only shifted to that of a standard royal guard, wishing for a more discreet entrance back into the palace after so many hours away. He had let the adorations of those mortals delay him far more than expected.

But the feel of sitting at the head of that mead hall with you at his side had hit him in such a strange way as well. A fleeting taste which had caused him to linger even further there as he’d fantasized about sitting similarly content on Asgard’s throne one day.

That dream of seizing his birthright was nothing new of course, yet the difference was now the addition of you in that mental image. He wanted you there so suddenly, with loyalty and pride radiating from you for all the court to see. He needed you to want to be his, to be willing to do whatever necessary to defy Asgard’s enemies in his name.

And even now, those thoughts brought a flare of desire that he could not act on. Frustrating as it was, he knew he had to maintain some semblance of patience. Heimdall’s silent stare of judgement didn’t even rile him to speaking either as the still disguised Loki passed silently by the gatekeeper.

He was bold enough to change appearance right in front of Heimdall, yes. But he also knew that until he crossed the line of actually doing something which broke Asgardian law, Heimdall would still keep what he had seen to himself. Travel to Midgard was not yet forbidden after all.

But Heimdall’s current courtesy of silence would only go so far as to delay the inevitable. The clock was still ticking on this secret and Loki knew it.

And unlike Midgard that had still been fully night, dawn was now just breaking in Asgard as Loki made his way back into the palace. The sparse guards he did encounter, he only gave little mocking salutes to. Still in the guise of one of them as he’d mimicked their own protocols before he’d turned the corner into the next corridor and ended up at the massive doors to his own living quarters.

So close to being able to hide himself back away for a few moments before the palace fully awakened, he had just placed his palms on the ornate, golden door handles when a sudden sound made him still completely.

“Good morning, son.” The placid voice called to him from nothing as his mother Frigga only materialized directly behind him.

And there was just that smallest moment of fear inside him. Just the length of a heartbeat before he’d turned smoothly to face her, his own magic dissolving to remove his disguise as excuses bubbled readily to his mind.

Of course he was still in the same armor from all those hours before, the muck of that mortal village even still marring the soles of his boots as he offered her an easy smile. “Well...how long have you been waiting here, Mother?”

Yet she responded just as simply, a gentle look in her eyes. “Not long at all really. I suppose I have good timing.”

But he was still searching, examining her body language for any hint of her actual intention. How much did she know? “I suppose that you do. Have Father and dear brother yet returned triumphant from Alfheim then?” No, he doubted that. The halls would not be near as peaceful if so.

“No. They have not.” She only answered. “...But that is exactly why I thought you may wish to speak to me now while whatever we discuss can still be kept relatively private.”

And there it was. He felt that slight bit of tension in his chest as he weighed his options in quick succession. The foundation with you still wasn’t fully laid, he needed more time to secure things. Even though he trusted Frigga, she and the Allfather went hand in hand in the end. She would not lie to her husband if pressed.

And Odin may forbid this odd new relationship outright, fearing some insult to Poseidon no doubt. If that foreign, Olympian king fully knew that the Asgardian god of mischief was now digging his claws greedily into his youngest daughter without permission, it could easily become a full blown scandal.

Loki hadn’t even bothered to investigate if you were betrothed to anyone in your own kingdom or not either. He did not care. He was a prince and would take whatever he wanted.

Though he knew it better to reveal nothing of you to his own family just yet, he also knew that if he offered Frigga too little in return, she would only step up her efforts to investigate on her own. Motherly concern and all, endearing at times, highly troublesome at others. He’d let her feel as if she had pried a little out of him at least as he played along. “And what is it that we should need to discuss so privately, Mother?” Loki asked calmly at last.

Yet she only smiled, surprising him a little still as she took his arm. “Come. Walk with me. You needn’t play such games. A mother knows when her son is enamored.”

He scoffed, though still letting himself be led as they did begin to walk. The halls were still empty enough this early in the morning for their words to not be easily overheard. “Is that what you think this all about? I think you’re confusing me with that manchild of yours for once.”

“Loki,” Frigga only chided. “It is not weakness to admit such feelings. And yes, for your brother that is an all too frequent cycle. He is not yet mature enough for his relationships to be anything but passing frivolity. But you are different. Which is why it becomes all the more noticeable when it finally does happen. Do not waste breath to deny it.”

He raised his eyebrows, never missing when she did offer even the slightest criticism of Thor. But he was still quick to downplay her insinuation about your importance. “Yet you act as if it has never happened for me before. Just because I’ve been more focused on honing my sorcery skills the last several years, it doesn’t mean I haven’t had my share of frivolity as you call it, Mother.”

But Frigga just gave him a disapproving look then. “Do not be crude just to try and shorten this conversation. There is a clear difference between solely that kind of physical interaction you speak of, and this distraction that has now carried you back to Midgard more than three times now. And you know the significance of the number three in so many of the rituals and rights I have taught you, it-”

“No.” He cut in abruptly. That was the line. If she was trying to say this was already something now beyond his control, something fated, he fully rejected that notion. “I don’t follow the predetermined, Mother. And you know I never want to hear whatever future you’ve seen for me. I will make my own.”

But the queen of Asgard was not one to back down either, responding just as strongly, “And all a witch can see is the possible outcomes, not the one that will truly be. I would never curse you with the burden of such knowledge, even if I were sure. But don’t patronize me to act as if nothing has changed for you. I came here to offer you my help, Loki. If you ever wish to make whoever you have chosen legitimate in the Allfather’s eyes, to actually bring them here one day, you will not be able to do it alone. I hope you understand that.”

“Mother...” He couldn’t help but pause to look in her eyes again, as unexpected as that offer really was. Yet he so quickly grabbed onto the possible other meaning as well in her concern. “You say ‘legitimate’ almost as if I was considered the true heir again. After all, who the future king of Asgard could court would be awfully more important than whoever just a prince would choose, correct? Of course, I suppose a marriage that one day joined Asgard and Midgard would also be significantly more impressive politically than say Thor and Sif, or whoever the Hel he’s galavanting around with these nights...”

She gave him a little hit on the arm at that. Of course he knew she hated whenever he mocked whoever his brother’s current fancy was. But she still just continued. “What should be important to you is finding the person that makes you happy, regardless of their own station. That is the future I want for both my sons. Whichever of you should one day hold the throne.”

Of course she still refused to admit Father’s favoritism that Loki saw all too well. He straightened up a little, that real sincerity in him burning through then. “But it will be me, Mother. I will prove myself worthy to Father, worthy of the throne. One way or another.”

And he hated that sympathetic look in her eyes, even though the real warmth was still there as she answered. “And I still say you’ll be far happier when you focus on yourself rather than chasing the Allfather’s approval. He already loves you both, just as I do.”

That was all he could handle for now, as he took her hand gently, bowing to her slightly before he kissed it. “No, he does not love as unequivocally as you do, Mother. But I do thank you for that. I will consider your offer. Yet I think it is still too early just yet.”

And as he straightened back up, he could see she at least accepted this. She would not dig any further into his visits to Midgard just yet. But he’d only bought additional time for just so long he was sure.“I’m going back to my quarters for a brief rest now.” He told her. “But if you need me any further today, you will find me in the throne room. Where I belong.”

Until Odin and Thor returned from Alfheim, this would be his privilege. His days would be spent hearing any grievances of the kingdom, presiding over council meetings, casting decisions on any changes to security measures, and standing as the head of all the remaining soldiers here for Asgard’s defense.

But at night...at night he’d return to his chambers. And laying there alone, surely that would be when he’d pass the remaining time awake thinking of you. Thinking and hoping that those mortals would hurry up and complete that room and bed for you both.

Whatever they built would still not be to his standards he was sure. But until you could truly lay in his own bed beneath him in Asgard, he would have to accept the compromise of a little hovel of a den for you both in Midgard.

—————————-

Midgard, several weeks later

The days passed so slowly for you. You now divided your time between your normal duties monitoring the oceans, and taking that form of the osprey, flying to visit the little village in the north that Loki had claimed for you both.

Never before had you spent so much time around mortals to be honest. And at first you’d still taken every possible measure to remain hidden from their sight. But eventually, that effort grew too tiresome.

After a while, you didn’t stay so high in the trees any longer. Yourself curious to be true, and watching as step by step they’d raised the timbers to begin building that structure Loki had requested.

You still stayed just out of their reach surely, but you didn’t fly away anymore when you saw them take notice of you. They’d even greet you quite frequently now, just calling you that nickname Loki had given you which they thought your real name. Kærr.

Especially the children. Whenever they moved out into the forest to play or gather freshwater from the nearby stream you’d also now discovered, they always giggled and called to you as they ran along beneath.

You’d even noticed that they gradually seemed to stray farther and farther from the village than they had in the beginning. As if your presence alone gave them confidence of their safety. It was such an odd sense of responsibility. One you weren’t quite sure you were ready for just yet.

The days were growing shorter too, the nights far colder by the time they finally finished that building. And as Loki had suggested, it was still quite small. Like a one room cabin really. Though they’d made quite a show of asking for your approval on it, you didn’t know what you were supposed to really do. They seemed to take your silence as a positive at least before they’d left again saying you could now summon your “master” and they would leave him to his privacy in the new dwelling.

You’d still waited until it was late at night though, knowing most the mortals would now be sleeping before you’d finally landed, changing back to the form of a woman as you’d walked to take a closer look at the building in the dim moonlight.

They’d built this also far enough from the village, here in the deeper woods that they could not stumble accidentally back upon it unless they really meant to. So you weren’t afraid of being seen as you’d walked the perimeter curiously.

It seemed sturdy enough. Quaint, but somehow inviting. And as you moved back towards the door, you realized they’d also listened to Loki’s criticism on their village’s carvings needing to be changed to reflect their new protector.

You couldn’t help but smile as you recognized well that likeness as you now ran your fingers across the rises and falls carved into the wood. The cape, the outlines of armor, the horned helmet...

But the real surprise was his pose, one arm bent, raised near level with his chest. And there perched upon that arm, was a bird of prey. You. Looking far more regal than you ever really had right to be you were sure.

There was a mix of mild embarrassment and a strange amusement that rose in you as you took the whole image in. It was quite possibly the only likeness anyone had ever made for you in the mortal realm. And paired with Loki no less.

Eros’ words carried on your heart still as you finally opened the door to venture inside. You knew Eros couldn’t be wrong, not on this subject. But it didn’t seem like it should be true either. How could you be falling in love when you didn’t even know the real meaning of the word? When you’d only had such fleeting meetings with this man?

The little bit of moonlight barely penetrated the inside of the dwelling and you just left the door open to not fully smother the light as you walked in onto the rough wooden floors. Though they’d laid down some rugs as well as your feet found them.

The furniture was sparse and simple, though maybe still the best of what they had to be truthful. A couple chairs, a small table, a chest for belongings, and of course a bed.

There were candles, but you had nothing to light them with as you now sat down on the empty bed. It was certainly a far cry from the large and extravagant bedding in your father’s palace.

But for someone who could just as easily sleep to the rocking of the waves or the silence of the deeper depths, a makeshift mattress stuffed with wool, moss, or who really knew what, really wasn’t a problem.

It was so quiet too. You laid down on your back, just to get the feeling of it as you stared up at the beams which arched into the ceiling. It reminded you most of the beams inside the hull of a ship, which was likely little coincidence. The ancestors of these people were all seafarers.

Idly, you wondered too if Loki had ever been to sea. You knew from those books you’d read that Asgard had waters of its own. But did he feel comfortable on the water? Did he ever sail? Did he swim? And maybe more importantly, would he ever swim with you?

You closed your eyes, thinking what it could be like to show him things he’d never seen before. Would he feel as good under the water as he did above it? Would he ever visit your own kingdom?

Of his own family, all you really knew was the tension and seeming competition between he and his brother. Would any of your own siblings be impressed by him though? Surprised surely. You’d never brought anyone to the palace before. Maybe one day...

————————————

You thought you were only dreaming. Because it wasn’t as if it hadn’t happened before. Especially in the long stretches between seeing one another. That scent of him, the feel of his cool skin against your own, albeit only making you feel heated as you breathed in deeper.

It wasn’t until you felt that lightest kiss on the back of your neck that your eyes fluttered open. Laying on your side on the bed, as your vision focused you noticed the door to the cabin was now closed. That and a single candle newly lit, flickering dimly on the small table just a few feet away.

You’d fallen asleep at some point. For how long was unclear. But you were absolutely no longer alone.

“Hello, Kærr.” Loki’s voice came in an almost taunting whisper, using that nickname again.

You were startled, but you didn’t hesitate, rolling over immediately to then be face to face with him in the shifting candlelight.

The glint of his teeth met you as he smiled in amusement. But whatever harsh words you may have thought he still deserved, they didn’t come as you’d also noticed his bare chest now nearly against you.

You had to glance down to realize he wasn’t nude however. But dressed solely in a dark pair of pants as he laid so closely beside you.

“You left the door open you know. I took it as an invitation.” He added, one hand now tracing idly down the side of your dress.

“How long have you been here?” You finally asked, but tellingly not pulling away at all as you let the small touches continue.

“Long enough to realize you’ll have me putting protection spells all around these walls if this is how deeply you really sleep, goddess. Imagine if I’d wanted to do more than kiss that pretty throat.”

You stared a moment. And yes, maybe you should have been embarrassed to be caught so defenseless. But in reality, what real enemies had you ever had? You didn’t live always keeping one eye over your shoulder. Yet...was he implying he would choose to protect you if it ever came to that?

You only shifted closer to him at those words rather than retort though, boldly laying your head against his chest then as you scooted down a little in the bed. You liked the way he tensed slightly too, seeming surprised before he just pulled the bed’s quilt up around you both.

The secure feeling as his arm tightened around you beneath the blanket was also very new. Both of you quiet until it was you who next broke the silence. “Will you stay tonight then?” You could have asked how he’d known you were here, how many times he’d been checking on you via Heimdall, but it really didn’t matter.

All you actually cared about in this moment was how long until you’d have to say goodbye to him again.

His tone seemed unusual, caught off guard still perhaps. But he answered simply. “If it’s what you want. Yes.”

Which likely meant that his father and brother had finally returned to Asgard you thought. But you didn’t want to talk about anyone else right now. This time was now just for the two of you.

“It is what I want.” You confirmed, though not looking up at him in the bed. But with your head still against his chest, you could just hear his own heartbeat. And you didn’t think it was only in your imagination that it quickened at those simple words.

But it was true. You may not understand or be able to express more than this right now. You didn’t know how to talk about love or deeper need. Yet you could be honest to say you wanted him to stay. You wanted him beside you for as long as he could be.

And he just held onto you, staying pressed together as if it should always be this way. But it had to mean something to him too you hoped. Because Loki didn’t seem at all the type of god to do anything if it didn’t fulfill some sort of need for himself as well.

No, you didn’t think he would stay just because you’d asked, unless he’d already wanted to. But you wouldn’t question it out loud, not now as you closed your eyes again.

It likely didn’t take you very long to fall back asleep either to the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat beneath your head. Yet even as you did you could also feel the rise and fall of his chest steadying out as his breathing relaxed in tandem.

If he did stay awake to watch you, it only would have been just barely as the two of you remained curled into one another beneath that blanket. He’d asked you once before, though under more lustful circumstances, if you could get used to being with him. You’d answered yes then, wanting the chance surely, but had he meant it in this way too when he’d asked?

Eros had given you the advice to see this through. He said it was the only way to know if your growing love might ever actually be returned by this god. And that was exactly what you were now going to do.

—————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

[saffronique]

I Read Leopardstar's Honor So You Don't Have To: A Review (Not Spoiler Free)

Oh Leopardstar. A cat who has long divided the fanbase as a leader beloved by some and despised by others. After years of waiting (for some) she was finally given her own super edition. In a word it was... underwhelming.

Introduction:

The book opens during Leopardstar's kithood days. The first scene is adorably heartwarming- readers are treated to Leopardkit and her denmates playing the warriors version of hide and seek, and there are some absolutely adorable moments here, such as Crookedjaw helping Leopardkit escape the seeker by whisking her away on his back, and Mudfur doting on his daughter. The scene takes a sharp turn when Skykit, one of Leopardkit's denmates, lures her away from the group to shove her head underwater and berate her for giving away Skykit's hiding place in the last round of hide and seek. Skykit's actions are startlingly cruel here, as she tells Leopardkit that she's a rotten kit that killed her own mother and that she is doomed to the dark forest like all the other murderers. This understandably disturbs and traumatizes Leopardkit, and when she speaks to her father about it, Mudfur reassures her that she is good, and that Brightsky came to him in a dream to say that Leopardkit will one day save RiverClan. Leopardkit latches on to this dream, and the book follows her through relatively disjointed moments in her life as she tries to live up to her destiny.

Pacing:

The pacing of the book is an absolute nightmare. We don't spend long enough in any one part of Leopardstar's life to see her have any meaningful interactions with other cats, and thus the majority of the relationships she has seem surface level at best, forced at worse, with Whiteclaw being a notable exception. She spends maybe 3 chapters as a kit, 3 as an apprentice, 3 as a warrior, 2 as a mentor, and so on. As a result, we don't actually get the opportunity to see Leopardstar learning or struggling in a meaningful way at any point. We're TOLD she's a hard worker, that she's dedicated and loyal, but the book gives you little chance to actually see it. The book slows down long enough to force an almost love story with Frogtail, which Leopardstar ultimately gives up on to focus on her work, but then a few chapters later Frogtail is dead and it's back to jumping around through her life.

The book really suffers from a lack of side characters and relationships to help things feel connected. The only real through line is this silly dream from Mudfur-not even an official prophecy- that Leopardstar focuses on to the exclusion of all else. Compare this to Crookedstar's Promise and Bluestar's Prophecy- while both books feature a greater destiny that the characters focus on throughout the book, they are given the chance to develop meaningful relationships that last for large chunks of the book. Bluestar has her relationship with her sister and her rivalry with Thistleclaw, and even her friendship with Thrushpelt, all of which allow her story to feel genuine and naturally lend themselves to interesting subplots. Crookedstar has his relationship with Mapleshade, his romance with Willowbreeze, his desire to prove himself to his mother- again, all things that make him feel like a well rounded, multifaceted character. Leopardstar has her dream, and ONLY her dream. None of her friendships last more than a few chapters before the other character is killed off. Her most meaningful relationship, with her apprentice and adopted son Whiteclaw, has the potential to round out Leopardstar's character, but Whiteclaw's fate has been predetermined. We all know he's going to die in the gorge because we see it happen in Fire and Ice. After Whiteclaw's death, Leopardstar briefly has a compelling relationship with Silverstream after she discovers her relationship with Graystripe. Silverstream and Leopardstar have opposing priorities of love and duty, and the interactions between them are an interesting insight into both characters. Silverstream actively rebukes Leopardstar's mindset and challenges her priorities, something that would have been invaluable in making Leopardstar's choice to join Tigerstar seem more consequential. But Silverstream too is doomed to die, and by the time the book reaches its climax, Mudfur is the only cat left to challenge Leopardstar's choices. Instead of letting the rift between father and daughter build, Leopardstar has no problem simply banishing her father and medicine cat for disagreeing with her. No one that she cares about is left to challenge her for her decisions, and thus there are no real stakes to the choices she makes. Sure, Stonefur dies and its awful, but the book doesn't bother to develop any real friendship or camaraderie between the two, so it doesn't feel as impactful as it should. The book concludes with Leopardstar understanding that she's wrong and Mudfur convincing her that she's going to save the Clan from the disaster she helped create. At the very least, Leopardstar seems to understand the problems with this and points out that it's not really her saving the Clans, its Firestar. This is completely true, as she has no role in Tigerstar's downfall and no role in stopping Scourge. The best that can be said for Leopardstar is that she doesn't get in the way of Firestar here.

She faces no real struggles aside from her father's doubt as to her ability to lead, a dynamic already witnessed between Brambleberry and Crookedstar and done much better.

Awful editing:

This book suffers from an almost unbelievable lack of care on the part of the editors, with big chunks of text very obviously cut and pasted to different parts of the story without any effort to edit out nonsequitors. The most painful instance of this revolves around Stormpaw and Featherpaw's apprenticeship. In one scene, Leopardstar comments on the fact that Primrosekit and Pikekit will be made apprentices any day (Reedkit is inexplicably absent here, and Perchkit seems to have died offscreen though it is never mentioned) and notes that Stormkit and Featherkit still have their kit fluff and look tiny next to their older denmates. A couple paragraphs later, we see Featherkit and Stormkit being apprenticed to Mistyfoot and Stonefur, in a paragraph that EXPLICITLY STATES that it's the very next day. The other kits have mysteriously been apprenticed already. Boulder and Jaggedtooth of ShadowClan are inexplicably present at the ceremony, despite there being no mention of their arrival at any point and Leopardstar refusing Tigerstar's offer to join their two Clans together the day before. A few pages later (yes, literally just pages later, that's how atrocious the pacing is) we cut to a battle between RiverClan and ThunderClan at the Sunningrocks, where Stonefur and Mistyfoot's parentage is revealed. Leopardstar doesn't actually hear this, but she does overhear them discussing it in the most painfully forced way possible moments later. Leopardstar finds herself absolutely HORRIFIED that she's apprenticed two half-Clan cats to half-Clan mentors.... and then a few chapters later, after forming TigerClan, Tigerstar asks her if she still intends to make Mistyfoot and Stonefur mentors to Featherkit and Stormkit despite their parentage, to which Leopardstar responds that they are still loyal RiverClan warriors. Yes, I'm serious.

Leopardstar's character:

This super edition is nothing but a showcase of the absolute worst aspects of Leopardstar as a character. Throughout the book she is shown as racist, battle hungry, self-centered, foolish, and utterly lacking in compassion or even pity for any Clan other than her own. She is constantly making racist generalizations about cats from other Clans, actively wishes for WindClan's downfall, sides with Tigerstar simply because Fireheart is a kittypet, and, perhaps most disturbingly, tries to murder Fireheart in cold blood because of his kittypet background. This book literally does nothing to endear the reader to Leopardstar, it makes her out to be the most despicable, honorless cat imaginable. And honestly, if you're not a Leopardstar fan, I think that's one of the most compelling things about this book. The desire to see what atrocities Leopardstar would commit next was what kept me interested in the story, honestly it was the only reason I finished it. There was something morbidly fascinating about watching a character so self absorbed and lacking in compassion interact with the world around her. It was enjoyable in a way to see a character so deeply set in the beliefs that the series has repeatedly established as wrong time and time again. Pacing and editing aside, this difference in philosophy is a breath of fresh air after the same recycled plotlines and moral messages that the series has been using for years. This book isn't going to make you like Leopardstar, but it is going to make you love to hate her.

What the book did right:

While there were very few positives to the book, it wasn't completely lacking in value. The book succeeded in developing a deeply meaningful relationship between Whiteclaw and Leopardstar that, thankfully, wasn't a romance. Their mother/son and mentor/apprentice relationship does a good job at setting up Leopardstar's grudge against ThunderClan over Whiteclaw's death as we see it play out in the first arc. Honestly, Leopardstar as a character would have been served far better if this had just been a novella detailing the relationship between these two. That was probably the only real thing of value in the book, honestly. Aside from that, Frogtail and Leopardstar's relationship, while I personally found it completely unnecessary, addressed a topic I've been hoping to see in warriors for a while now-- two characters who love each other but decide that the things they want out of life are mutually incompatible, and part ways amicably. Leafpool x Crowfeather and Bluestar x Oakheart both almost did this, but fell short because it was only ever really one character who decided to end the relationship. Unfortunately, the value in this message is somewhat diminished by the fact that Leopardstar later laments multiple times that she should've given up on her goals and just had kits with Frogtail instead, an absolutely disgusting conclusion that plays into the recurring problem of misogyny in warriors where women aren't allowed to be both mothers and hold a position of power, they have to choose between the two.

All in all, this Super Edition is easily the worst so far in terms of plot, pacing, and writing, but I still found some enjoyment in reading the perspective of such a selfish, cruel protagonist.

[terrainofheartfelt]

I was watching season two of Gossip Girl recently, and I wanted to ask what are your thoughts on the Chuck and Dan dynamic? Personally, I am somewhat fascinated by their, to say the least, odd relationship. They seemed like underrated foils for each other; when one was up, the other would be down. I am curious what your thoughts are, though.

Hi! I've left this sitting for a few days because it is such a fascinating question and I wanted to give myself space to mull it over.

I would also like to go ahead and tag Ivy now, because he's written much more on the two of them and given much more thought to this dynamic, so @natearchie, beloved friend, please feel free to add your insight!

They really do seem to be foils for each other in many ways, especially in the earlier seasons. To get into s2, specifically, since you mentioned it, looking back on it there's this almost biblical kind of way that Dan and Chuck end up playing out the conflict between their fathers, if that makes sense? I mean, they are at odds for other reasons besides this: Chuck's assault on Jenny, the discrepancies of wealth and privilege between the two, etc. The beginnings of the show set it up too: that Chuck has always been in this UES world and will move through it with a self-possession that cannot be taught, or learned, and Dan will, on some level, always be a tourist, never being quite able to make a home in it.

And, as I slipped it into this web-weaving/song-lyric post, Dan is drawn to that aspect of Chuck's character, especially in s2, and is darkly fascinated by the very different way Chuck lives his life, unafraid of consequences (it is why Georgina is such a magnetic person to him too).

And in the inverse, Chuck is openly derisive of Dan, as more people of his circle are drawn to him (first Serena, then Nate, and eventually Blair), to this level of what is this humdrum humphrey's deal? and he sort of develops a jealousy for Dan's traits, like Dan envies his confidence and privilege, Chuck envies Dan's sincerity, almost? and, to put it plainly, the fact that he is loved, and lovable, and loving. Serena and Nate love him, Blair in the earlier seasons kind of begrudgingly respects him, and Rufus wouldn't turn his back on Dan for anything.

So, back to the dads. The first thing my mind jumped to when I first read this ask was the "your father killed my father." Biblical. and surrounding that event, and going forward from it, Chuck acts like his personal disdain for Dan is predetermined, they are fated to be enemies.

The show pretends to present a lot of crossroads over the course of the show for Chuck to make amends and change and turn from a wooden puppet into a real boy, but I think the real opportunity for it was lost in the aftermath of Bart's death in s2, he could have chosen to walk away from the role Bart had forced him into, the role he felt he was forced to play out on the great stage of fate: Rufus v. Bart, Dan v. Chuck, Brooklyn v. UES, poor v. rich, and despite the opportunity presented to him here, he couldn't do it - but, as the show demonstrated from the beginning, Chuck was the one who didn't want any of the cycle to change, even though he was the one who probably needed it the most.

As for Dan, and his big stupid bleeding heart, the interesting moment for him re: this narrative arc with Chuck (disregarding 5a bc huh???), is the whole story-writing, story-abandoning, and story-submitting thing he does about Chuck. He stumbles into the realm of Chuck Bass, is blown away by it (Dante's descent to broker a pretentious comparison), then is sucker-punched with Chuck's level 9 tragic backstory, and has to reckon with that complexity, that one of the worst people he knows can also carry around hurt like that. He kills the story bc he's led to believe it would do more harm than good, but then he submits it after witnessing Jenny's success, and in doing so, he kind of models the behavior of the Basses over the Humphreys: act with conviction, take no prisoners, who cares who you hurt to get ahead. Dan's crossroads is also about following his father (who is...Not as Bad as Bart, but still Not Great), and navigating between the rigid moral codes than are smothering him and Jenny from thriving, and succumbing to the amorality of the UES which sucks the air out of the lungs of Dan's friends in that world (Nate, Serena, and even Blair). And, if you are looking at all six seasons of the show (which I typically don't for Personal & Spiritual Reasons) Dan loses his balance, and falls all the way down to the tenth circle.

[hanascrisis]

A REVIEW: Scum Villain’s Self Saving System (MXTX)

I. GENERAL OVERVIEW

LENGTH: 81 Chapters and 20 Extras

GENRE: (BL) Chinese Cultivation Novel - Historical Period

MAIN COUPLE:  Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu

BRIEF SUMMARY: After binge reading legendary harem stallion web novel “Proud Immortal Demon Way”, Shen Yuan (a millennial increasingly frustrated by the story’s outrageous and senseless plot) dies choking on food and transmitigates into the novel... as the villain shizun of the main protagonist, Shen Qingqiu. Shen Yuan, now Shen Qingqiu, must navigate through the original PIDW’s plot points to gain the favor of the original protagonist, Luo Binghe, to avoid being tortured and cut into a human stick. However, in doing so, Shen Qingqiu eventually finds that the original plot changes, awakening new feelings in the protagonist previously unexplored. 

II. CATEGORICAL RANKING & BREAKDOWN

This was my second danmei novel I had ever read, and one that really helped. familiarize me with the ins and outs of the typical cultivation novel tropes. With Shen Qingqiu’s unfortunately relatable inner monologging complete with millennial, largely inappropriate vocabulary AND emoticons was undeniably very entertaining, and I spent the majority of the book laughing along with his misfortune. It was a book in which the reader got to experience the stereotypical romance, adventure, and fantasy tropes through the lens of a character living out these tropes with a mindset not so dissimilar from our own. With that, let’s move on to my personal categorical rankings for this novel.  

1. CHARACTERIZATION ~ Rated 7/10

With every single character within this book, I can confidently say I really liked their characterization. Each character’s personality was constructed in a way that did not adhere to one stereotype, and the interactions between characters never felt stale or forced (especially in a book where Shen Qingqiu has a sudden change in personality, I was worried these interactions with characters such as Yue Qingyuan and Liu Qingge would be strange, but it was indeed quite cute and funny). Even with the minor characters that seemed to be the main antagonists Tianlang Jun, their characterizations and relationship still had a familial sense of warmth that made them feel a lot more human. However, due to the length of the book, not all the side characters were really flushed out in terms of backstory. 

With the main protagonist, Luo Binghe, as to deviate from the original “black hearted protagonist” of PIDW, his back story and past abuses led to his motivations as a person being a lot more complex, deeper, and especially tragic. Through the novel we are able to see that the original protagonist crafted from resentment started out as a boy too naive, with a heart full of warmth and kindness, only to be bludgeoned and abandoned over and over again. Even by the end of the book, in interactions with Shen Qingqiu, we can still evidently see Luo Binghe’s past emotional trauma within his feelings of inadequacy and his villainization at the peak. I personally really liked this new depth of character that gave me a new perspective on his actions and motivations. Generally, I also love the change in Binghe’s demeanor when he’s around Shen Qingqiu vs. anyone else, and one can easily forget how manipulative, cunning, and overpowered he is as the “protagonist”. He is endearing and I love him so much, but that’s deviating from the original point.

As discussed previously, Shen Qingqiu’s character, while having a. fairly distinct personality, is almost a self-insert character that the reader can. project on directly. While I THOROUGHLY enjoyed his narration throughout (which served as much needed comic relief), I personally wished there to be a little more character development, especially regarding the paradigm shift that occurred in his mindset and attitude towards the other characters in the book. At the beginning of the novel, there is a certain subconscious wall Shen Qingqiu creates, where he thinks of the other people as strictly “character from PIDW with concrete fates and personailites”, which is especially evident in the way he treated Luo Binghe post-Immortal alliance conference. But overtime, there is a subtle shift in which by the end of the book, we see Shen Qingqiu resolve some misunderstandings (to an extent) and see him start to regard the characters around him as true people that he can build deep relationships with. I personally wanted this aspect to be highlighted a little more and that this had good potential in being an essential piece of plot could have led to more resolution (discussed below). 

2. WORLD BUILDING ~ Rated 9/10

From my perspective, especially in cultivation novels, world building becomes exceedingly important in order to aid the reader in understanding the power structure and dynamic of the cultivation world, which reflects in the interactions between characters of different factions. Because of Shen Qingqiu’s commentary as a “reader of PIDW”, I felt the author was able to do a stellar job in explaining the different dynamics within the sect and between the different peak lords, as well as major conflicts between demons. Hence, it was really easy to understand and follow how the world revolved around each of the conflicts, as well as justify some of the characters’ motivations within SVSSS. 

3. PLOT DEVELOPMENT ~ Rated 8/10

What I found extremely compelling about the plot of this book in particular is that it is a lot more complex and darker than the audience originally grasps. With my first read, I found the book hilarious through and through, and couldn’t get enough of the comedic aspects and commentary that seemed to seep through to even the most serious moments. But as I started to think back on some of the events that ended up transpiring, I came to the realization that the plot itself is extremely tragic. If one were to think about the book from Luo Binghe’s perspective, as a child abandoned with no one to care for and love him, to then finding someone who cherishes him and believes in him, only to have that very same person push him off a cliff and have him experience hell for the next 5 years; frankly the plot is really devastating. That’s also what makes it such an interesting book to read and then reread. 

Another aspect of the plot that is notable is how outrageous some of the events are, especially when thinking from a logical perspective. From Shen Qingqiu dying and growing a new body underground, to the thousands of elephant demons (?) that Luo Binghe gathers, one is simply overwhelmed by how random the book is sometimes. Even better, we get to witness this exact reaction through Shen Qingqiu, as someone to transmitigated into this nonsensical book. Hence, somehow the book manages to be completely unrelatable, yet also very relatable, hitting both extremes in a perfect equillibrium.

My main reservation/criticism of the plot is personally~ I felt that it lacked a little bit of resolution in some of the major plot points, such as “Bingge”, as well as the Bingqiu relationship. A lot of the original misunderstandings and misgivings between Shen Qingqiu during and after the 5 years (pre-relationship) weren’t really resolved. It sort of left me wanting some more development from Binghe where his is able to heal from his past to a certain extent. Regarding Shen Qingqiu, I also wanted to see more development with him in terms of his obvious shift in mindset from viewing the people around him as characters from the original PIDW, to actual people whose fates aren’t predetermined. It could be a fun idea to explore more. But these are just small things that really don’t take away from the experience that is reading SVSSS. 

III. FINAL THOUGHTS

RECOMMENDATION: YES I DO RECOMMEND IT , especially for people who enjoy comedy, modern humor mixed with ridiculous xianxia plot points, and an action filled BL cultivation novel. It really is an absolute joy to read and all the characters are so endearing in their own way - Luo Binghe with his selective duality and various complexes, Shen Qingqiu with his alleged “straigtness” and internalized heteronormativity, Tianlang Jun with his desire to be a malewife, the misunderstandings in the relationship between Shen Qingqiu and Zhuzhi Lang, etc. etc. It is really a fun read and I thoroughly enjoyed it. This concludes my first casual book review haha.  

[shihalyfie]

Shihanne’s Kizuna meta -- Part 1: The meaning behind Kizuna, and the actual cause of partnership dissolution

Kizuna is a very easy movie to misunderstand, and it’s not helped by the fact that the official translation kind of sucks. (Seriously, I highly recommend you check out the translation of one of the novels -- the Dash X or the Shueisha Mirai version -- because of how badly the official one sucks.) On top of that, a lot of its information is packed in the subtleties of a lot of its lines, which means that, without paying very close attention, you can walk off with a completely misleading interpretation of what the movie is trying to say. A lot of times I see people talking about how the movie’s message is about adulthood sucking, or partnership dissolution being an inevitable thing...when the movie actually makes multiple indications that this is not the case.

(The rest of the post contains major spoilers for the movie, so be warned.)

Do note that the below is only my personal interpretation, and because there is a lot to unpack with this movie, please feel free to disagree with or disregard any of my interpretations here.

Kizuna has a lot of things to say about adulthood, but the most obvious theme is, of course, “don’t be too trapped in nostalgia” -- represented by Menoa’s desire to trap everyone in Neverland so they can never move forward, and, on a meta level, the ridiculous amount of Adventure imagery associated with people who can’t move on (yeah, they weren’t really subtle about that part...). But as a result, the idea behind the movie is often taken the wrong way -- does this mean that they’re trashing on the very series they’re meant to honor? Is the movie about people having to swallow adulthood being painful? After all, the movie says that partners disappear when you become an adult! Isn’t the movie saying we all have to accept that (even though the sheer existence of the 02 epilogue should imply otherwise)?

Nope! The movie actually does have another inner layer about what it means to become an adult, and how to develop a healthy relationship with your adulthood that isn’t just violently cutting everything away -- in fact, it considers that to be another unhealthy extreme that it warns against. It’s just that this theme is a little more latently hidden, and you have to connect the dots a little to figure that out.

I think a lot of the reason so many people miss this is predicated on the fact that you are not supposed to take Menoa’s statement at face value. It’s her statement as presented in the official trailers and a lot of the advertising material, so it’s easy to think that she’s supposed to be the deliverer of the movie’s message, but that is very much not the case! Understanding this is key to understanding the core theme of the movie, and what it’s trying to say in terms of a lead-up to the 02 epilogue.

Menoa’s statement on adulthood, which is what the concept of partnership dissolution is supposedly predicated on, is the following (quoted from onkeikun’s translation of the Dash X Bunko novel, which uses the movie script):

Do all of you know why it’s children who are chosen to be partners with Digimon?... It’s because children are full of possibilities... The future is rife with limitless choices. You grow as a person by making those choices. “Growth” and “possibilities” together produce vast energy. As I’m sure you guys are already aware, the evolutions of your Digimon partners are triggered by your growth... When that power is gone… Your partnership with your Digimon ends.

Keep in mind that Menoa has built this “theory” based on her own experience. She’s convinced that her “choice” to become an adult was what took Morphomon from her. She’s convinced that Adulthood is Bad, and that Choices are Bad. Menoa is very much biased from her own experience, and her theory is not reliable. Seriously, do you think someone who eventually decides that forcing everyone into an eternal loop of their childhood is an excellent idea is a reliable source for these kinds of things?

Not only that, she’s also claiming that this is supposed to apply to all adults just because this happened to her. Although she claims that this is part of her research, there clearly have not been enough cases of partnership dissolution for this to be a well-known issue. Given that she lost Morphomon at a young age, and she’s one of the oldest Chosen Children, it’s natural that she might think that this might be a universal phenomenon and that it might not have “kicked in” for everyone else, but nevertheless, she’s committing a major no-no in scientific research -- extrapolating based on a painfully small sample size, and letting her own biased perception of events manipulate what she sees as the result.

When Gennai supposedly “confirms” the partnership dissolution phenomenon, note that he does not actually confirm Menoa’s theory.

Unfortunately, you are experiencing the case where your partnership is dissolving... But if you guys still have infinite possibility…Then it’s possible…

The fact that Gennai refers to it as a “case” is very important (it’s very clear in the Japanese line too, jirei). This is a thing that may happen. It is not a thing that is guaranteed to happen, and it’s not necessarily a thing that comes with adulthood like Menoa thinks. What’s more, he even acknowledges that “having infinite possibility” is still possible for adults -- something that doesn’t fit with Menoa’s theory on Adulthood Being Bad and how it diminishes possibility.

As the movie eventually goes into Menoa’s plan for “saving” Chosen Children, she justifies her motive by saying that losing partners is “fate” (shukumei). She thinks that losing partners is an inevitability. She thinks that this is just something that comes with adulthood, and that unless she forces everyone to stay in their childhood, their only recourse will be to suck it up and to be miserable.

This is why the climax is dedicated to Taichi and Yamato proving her wrong.

“What you’ve chosen wasn’t a mistake!” “But no matter what waits for us after making that choice…!” “We have to live with the decisions that we make!”... “We might not be able to change our fate. But!” “We can change our destiny!”

In essence, Taichi and Yamato are disproving both parts of Menoa’s theory on Adulthood Being Bad. It’s not that choices are inherently bad, it’s just that sometimes there are consequences of said choices...but it’s not like said consequences lead to dead ends. Taichi and Yamato, in contrast to Menoa’s belief in “fate”, believe in “destiny” (unmei) -- the difference being that they believe in being able to change that predetermined fate by their own efforts.

The concept had come up earlier in To Sora, too --

Hey, Sora-san. I think it was destiny that we became Chosen Children. But I don’t think it was fate.

It’s a completely different conversation, but Mimi is basically talking about the philosophy that pushes the Chosen Children forward -- that sure, some things seem to be predestined and beyond simple luck, but also that they’ve had choice in manipulating the events and changing what seems normally inevitable.

So if Menoa’s theory about partnerships dissolving in adulthood is questionable to begin with, then what does cause partnership dissolution? Again, it’s not actually established that this is something that happens to everyone. We only have four confirmed cases within the scope of the movie: Menoa herself, Taichi, Yamato, and Sora. So what do they have in common?

Well, the night before the ring appeared on Taichi and Yamato’s Digivices, they had this conversation:

“You should take Gabumon with you to your classes,” Taichi said jokingly. Yamato smiled wryly. “Don’t be stupid. Why don’t you take Agumon to your classes?” “It’s not that simple. I have my own life to live.”

And during the events of To Sora -- which presumably happened right before the ring appeared for Sora -- this happened:

When Piyomon had come to inform her that Koushiro had sent a message, Sora had said to her angrily, “Don’t bother me!” The distress and irritation of her practice not going well had caused Sora to take it out on her. But even when lashed out by that irrational anger, Piyomon had been the one who apologized. When she saw Piyomon hanging her head apologetically, Sora had felt a surge of regret but no room in her heart to apologize as well. “I need to focus on this right now…” She had said as her excuse, and looked away.

And in Menoa’s case, a certain something shows up in the Shueisha Mirai Bunko version of the novel -- it’s implied in the movie itself, but the novel itself says it pretty explicitly:

Waiting in front of the swing at her family’s home, where they’d always played together when Menoa was a child, was her beloved friend. Lately, she’d been studying so much that they hadn’t been talking to each other at all, so she wanted Morphomon to lavish her with praise. She wanted her to say, “Menoa, you’re amazing!”

See a pattern? All of the known cases of partnership dissolution involved neglect of their Digimon partners in pursuit of “adulthood”.

Taichi and Yamato ditched Agumon and Gabumon at the start of the movie and left them with their siblings. Agumon hadn’t even been to Taichi’s room before, even though Taichi lives by himself and is clearly lonely -- his reaction when Agumon finds his AVs, “you have to be an adult -- “ tells all, because he clearly thinks of Agumon as “a child” who shouldn’t be near his New Adult Life. Sora may have apologized later, but it sounds like there’s been a constant pattern of her starting to focus so much on her studies that she’s emotionally neglected Piyomon. And, of course, Menoa herself rushed so much to become “an adult” that she neglected her beloved partner in the process -- they weren’t even talking anymore! And the fact that the swing is discussed in past tense, when Menoa was a child, indicates that Morphomon may not be the only thing Menoa had tossed away in pursuit of “becoming an adult”.

(Note how Menoa constantly talked through the movie about the fact she and Morphomon had “always been together”, as if Morphomon had been ripped unfairly from her suddenly and for no reason...only for the revelation that Menoa was guilty of neglect to drop at the end. I repeat: Menoa is not a reliable person to be taking words at face value from.)

It really, really doesn’t seem like coincidence that Taichi and Yamato’s Digivice rings appeared the day after they flippantly laughed at the idea of taking Agumon and Gabumon to school because it would get in the way of “having their own lives to live”. Recall that Digimon in the Adventure universe have always generally been taken to represent an alter ego, or a part of oneself. (They were literally developed to represent part of the human soul in physical form.) On a symbolic level, your partner disappearing is representative of you losing touch with yourself -- and your own childhood innocence -- because of some arbitrary, societally-enforced standard of “becoming an adult”.

Fun side note? As mentioned in the movie, Eosmon is named after the Greek goddess of the dawn, who also has another interesting story about her: she fell in love with a mortal man and, not wanting him to die before her, requested that he be given eternal life, but neglected to ask that he be given eternal youth, and was forced to watch as her lover kept living on and on and withered further and further with age. Neglected the concept of youth, huh.

That’s why partnerships seem to dissolve with adulthood, but it’s not from the simple act of becoming an adult -- it happens when you take that adulthood and decide that you’re going to reject all of those “childish” things about yourself in pursuit of that goal, and lose yourself in the process. And sure, they may have tried to fix it right away, but these things aren’t just momentary moments of weakness; they build, and build, and build, and build, until you’re at the point of no return and need to take drastic measures to get it back.

And in fact, if you inspect the staff interviews (which have been, presumably, deliberately vague about this in the hopes of having the audience figure it out), they hint at it, too:

For this movie, we had the concept of "separation from their Digimon", which means being able to completely separate yourself from your past self, or rather, wondering if it might be better to cut yourself entirely from your past adventures in becoming more like an adult.

Not only that, but this explanation tracks much better than what Menoa claims is the case. Under Menoa’s explanation of choices diminishing possibilities, characters like Daisuke and Jou who had their paths already determined from an early age should have lost their partners a long time ago, and conversely, Taichi and Yamato, who weren’t sure on what to do with their lives at the beginning of the movie, should not have lost their partners. But “emotional neglect from the obsession with growing up” tracks even with our “outlier” cases -- Menoa “forced” herself to become an adult at the very-not-adult age of 14 and lost her partner, while Oikawa also didn’t actually get to “meet” Pipimon until he accepted that exact same thing -- that he needed to embrace the “power to dream” instead of considering himself a “tainted adult”.

(Ichijouji Ken, who could be argued to be guilty of emotional neglect of Wormmon in some sense, initially seems like a violation of this principle, but closely observing the Kaiser’s behavior during 02 indicates an often paradoxical thread of behavior implying that he seemed to have been rejecting and yet wanting him nearby at the same time, which is part of the reason Wormmon’s death breaks him so badly. In fact, it often feels like he goes out of his way to acknowledge Wormmon for the specific purpose of rejecting him. In a metaphorical sense, knowing that Wormmon is representative of Ken’s own inner self, the metaphor of Ken being in perpetual internal conflict of constantly trying to outwardly reject his own heart for being “weak” yet never truly being able to escape it until he’s finally forced to accept it for good is not lost. It was not a positive relationship with Wormmon by any means, but it was, nevertheless, a conscious and active relationship, for which “neglect” does not feel like an appropriate word.)

When you look back at Menoa’s life and backstory, it then becomes clear how she made her mistake in her theory. Menoa basically threw away her childhood in order to become an adult, and she never learned to embrace the happy medium between having an unhealthy attachment to the past and violently cutting it off. Late in the movie, she claims that there’s nobody else who understands how she feels, and we also learn in her flashback that she had an obsession with doing things “on her own”, or in other words, she cut off any potential friends or people who could help her (Morphomon seems to have legitimately been her only friend and confidant). So in her mind, “losing touch with your inner self and having no connection to the happiness of your childhood” is fundamentally synonymous with becoming an adult. That’s how she develops her mentality of “adulthood is drudgery and has no value, and we’d be better off never getting there” -- and that adulthood strips people of possibilities and therefore provides no recourse from losing your Digimon partner, and that the only way to reclaim anything from your childhood is to just shove yourself back into its box. Her own life had no such hope in it, so she projects that lack of hope onto everyone else.

With that in mind, the two major questions that come from this:

Will this happen to everyone? Hard to say, but I don’t think it would necessarily. Remember, even though Menoa is one of the oldest Chosen Children and had this happen to her at an abnormally early age, not everyone has such an unhealthy relationship with adulthood, nor is as likely to neglect their partners nearly as much in the process of figuring out what adulthood means to them. That doesn’t mean that those it does happen to made some “mistake” or “messed up”, though -- press materials and the BD commentary made it clear that this was not a movie intended to endorse “one way to live”, and sometimes the degree of introspection and experimentation with what adulthood means to you does result in momentarily trying to cut things away until you figure your life balance out, especially if you want to take on a challenge with as high of a hurdle as Taichi’s road to becoming a diplomat.

So what’s the solution? Although it’s still left to everyone’s imagination to figure out the details, at the very least, figuring out yourself and snapping yourself out of this very unhealthy relationship with “growing up” and holding yourself to arbitrary, false standards is probably a great start! Menoa had her “vision” of Morphomon the moment Taichi and Yamato’s words reached her within Eosmon. Gennai specifically says that partnership dissolution will cause the Digimon to disappear in terms of losing their “form” (sugata), but given that Digimon in the Adventure universe are supposed to represent a part of yourself, they’re probably still there (just not there)! In that light, getting them back...is probably not actually all that hard, if they can sit down and take some time to figure themselves out. That’s why Menoa never figured it out this whole time in the last eight years; she was so busy focusing on “scientific” ways to get Morphomon back, and staying perpetually stuck in a twisted nostalgic version of her past, that she never actually sat down to think about herself and what she was doing. And that’s why the movie’s climax is about Taichi blowing the whistle to wake everyone up -- it’s still about moving forward, but it’s about using your past to move forward, instead of gravitating to the extremes of either latching onto it eternally or attempting to abandon it outright.

So really, the solution is for everyone to get some damn therapy.

Given that, the path to the 02 epilogue doesn’t actually seem that particularly difficult compared to how Menoa made the problem initially sound like. It’s not like every adult is going to inevitably have this happen as a process, and thus it’s not like everyone has to find some magical technical solution that’ll rectify one of the laws of the universe. The solution is really more somewhere between the unhealthy extremes presented in the movie -- Menoa’s fixation on nostalgia and the past being the only good thing in her life, and Taichi and Yamato (initially) rejecting said childhoods in favor of “adulthood” -- and figuring out how to use and cherish your childhood, past experiences, and inner self to move forward.

And given Sora’s revelation in To Sora about taking care of herself more, and Taichi and Yamato starting to settle on their career decisions for real by the end of Kizuna, they’re already on their way to figuring things out. Or, in other words, it’s likely that they’ll get their partners back simply through the natural course of making their way to the epilogue. Taichi’s starting to value his childhood experiences as important in his future work in diplomacy. Yamato, according to the Shueisha Mirai version of the novel, is becoming an astronaut to entertain the “romantic” dream of going to space with Gabumon. Sora, as per the 02 epilogue, will end up known not for being an iemoto heir but a kimono designer -- a skill that she’s presumably going to be discovering on her own, and not under obligations to others. Gennai himself said that there was hope as long as they still had “infinite possibility” -- something that Taichi, Yamato, and Sora were closing up on themselves at the beginning of this movie, but were starting to re-open the door to again once they started reconnecting with themselves and embarking on some proper paths by the end of it.

“We’ll definitely come to see you” -- indeed, they will.

(Next is the sequel to this meta, where I discuss Kizuna’s relationship with not only 02′s epilogue but also 02 itself as a whole, and the reason the 02 group has such an unusual position in this movie.)

[savrenim]

i am running thru ur tumblr to find ONE POST to cite for tvtropes, and i agree so hard with the soulmate stuff. what if my soulmate is an awful abuser, i want the choice to NOT be with them without some painful physical consequence or loss of perception if i don't date them just because the universe said we were "meant to be"... plus if it's just a magic thing it "feels" more justified in-universe that soulmates exist and less like an ass pull so you could justify getting 2 characters together

oH gods this is something that I have SO many feelings about that probably is slightly informed by my own orientation and preferences, but. feelings. this got long so it's going under the cut

so there are three and a half major things that I have a problem with in terms of general soulmate tropes that are "there is one person who is your perfect romantic partner" (which to be fair I've seen a number of soulmate AUs do that trope with the addendum "although it only applies to a certain percentage of the population / not everyone has soulmates / everyone has soulmates but not everyone has SUPER PERFECT ROMANTIC soulmates" which at least somewhat avoids the statistic inevitability of abusive soulmates if combined with Fate Can See The Future And So Your Fated Soulmate Just Won't Be) and these complaints aren't even from the "I'm poly where's my poly rep" kind of place which is a whole 'nother bag of worms, but let's go:

1. I aggressively believe that love is a choice. Love is something that is built, not predetermined before you meet someone. There might be initial compatibility aspects going down when you first meet someone, but, like. statistically there are more than seven and a half billion people on this planet. If there is only a single person perfectly meant for you, again, statistically, you are not going to meet them, I've seen the figure thrown that on average a person will meet on the order 10,000 people in their lifetime but let's even go 100,000, you will meet 0.001% of the world's population. Unless you think some sort of divine coincidence or fate is guiding you to a soulmate which throws free will out the window and then I can't help you but, like. discarding the math, I think it is actively harmful to a relationship to believe that it can be sustained on chemistry or predetermined 'but we're perfect for each other' alone. It requires work. You choose who is in your life, you choose who stays in your life, you choose who you want to be important to you based on what they contribute to your life and what you contribute to theirs.

(I am assuming this ask is at least partially in reaction to my soulmate post, which actually the fic in question, a buried and a burning flame, has since gone up. I highly recommend reading Hands of the Emperor by Victoria Goddard first, but besides the setup for arson wizards that alas is never used because the fire mage with a soulmate in question is Responsible, I decided to both tackle 'okay soulmarks trope too let's throw it in', which leads to the not-really-a-spoiler passage that appears fairly early on about actually the full layout (albeit with less detail on the 'yeah for mages it just helps ground their magic, nothing romantic about it' part) of my Soulmate Rules:

Soulmates existed, both in the Empire of Astandalas and across the Wide Seas. They just worked slightly differently in Vangavaye-ve than the rest of the worlds.

The rest of the Empire seemed to view soulmates as a monolith. From what Cliopher had been able to glean, the tradition was grounded in their magic. Magi had soulmates, or rather, magic-workers would each have a soulmate. Cliopher wasn't clear if all magic-workers had a soulmate, or if magic-workers simply could have one, but there was always a mage in soulmate pairs, and it was always a pair. There were no marks, no visible signs involved, as soulmates were something that were sensed with magic. They were permanent, intrinsic, and to be recognized immediately.

To Wide Sea Islanders, soulmates were a choice.

The soul-marks, lana and lani-voa, would appear the first time you touched someone that you had chosen to love, with the full knowledge that you loved them. Cliopher had the marks of his mother and father, his sisters, Basil and Dimiter, Bertie and Ghilly. His skin was covered lovingly with the colors of his love, marks that he had gotten used to concealing with long sleeves in Astandalas when he had gotten tired of the constant staring at his 'primitive tattoos'.

Buru Tovo had been the only one to give him lani-voa, a greater mark of the soul. The pattern, with its thick lines and twisting design in a deep blue, extended over the entirety of his left arm and shoulder. They were the dances of his family pressed onto his skin, and he had traced them over with reverent and feather-light touch for months after he had received them. A lani-voa marked someone who had changed your life for the better in a deep and irrevocable way. It was a great honor to have even one.

And now, with the gold stretching up his right arm, new patterns that he didn't recognize stretching up from a handprint of pure gold that was expanding the longer he held that first contact with Tor—

now he had two.

(Buru Tovo is Cliopher's great uncle, for context. In fact, everyone listed there is either a familial or platonic relationship, with a single relationship that used to be romantic but settled into platonic.))

so. yeah. Love is a choice! The Biggest Of Moods! any soulmate lore that undermines that is a Bad Message, in my opinion.

The emphasis also on platonic soulmates leads into my second point:

2. I have found in my life that platonic relationships that I have are and have always been as important if not moreso than the romantic relationships. the emphasis of a single romantic relationship as the most important relationship that you can be in maybe fits for some people, but as a generalization to absolutely everyone I think is toxic and harmful. and not just for aro people! I'm not aro, but I would be miserable to write off my friends as Less Important And Meaningful to me than my parter, whom I love with all my heart! (I've actually ended up in my life settling into what I call the red/blue/gold system for 'relationships that I treat with the importance that society treats romantic relationships', but that's a personal thing). The standard soulmate trope tends to really solidly deliver the thesis of "there is a single romantic relationship that is the single most important relationship in your life" and I just think that's a very bad thesis.

3. Finally, I think the emphasis on permanent/forever is a harmful one for relationships in general. People change. you drift closer to people or further away from them. you move, they move, your schedules change, your interests change, your life changes. if you are living with a romantic partner you're going to keep seeing each other every day, but that doesn't stop you from changing as a person, which means see Point 1 Love Is A Choice; but even if you choose to remain together, you are probably eventually going to Ship Of Theseus your entire relationship. I think it is an important message that if that happens and it is no longer a relationship that is as deeply positive as it once was in your life, you don't...have to keep it out of loyalty to what it once was.

It's okay for people to drift out of your life that were once the most important person in your life. It doesn't invalidate how important and meaningful that relationship used to be, and it isn't a betrayal to let yourself and them and your relationships change and evolve. The idea that something has to be forever for it to matter I think is the idea about soulmates that I disagree with the most. Probably because that was the hardest lesson for me to learn as a kid and a teenager, and the life lesson that I am proudest for learning.

3.5 your point 'plus if it's just a magic thing it "feels" more justified in-universe that soulmates exist' is exactly on the nose, literally I am unable to write anything without attempting to write down a universal theory of everything for How The World Works. if something soulmate-wise is going down even if it never appears on the page you bet your ass I have either figured out the general cosmology and theology of "are there gods or divine forces who have instituted this policy? if so, why? what purpose does it serve", or in the case of abaabf which already has such interesting magic rules in the original canon of "is there an evolutionary reason for soulmates to exist" which I don't go tracing out full evolutionary biology for a fic necessarily mostly because I would want the full evolutionary biology in canon to make sure mine is compliant enough but that sure as hell does translate to "if soulmates exist and it's not for the reason of Because Godlike Beings Said So, there better be a practical purpose". I find at least long-form soulmate fics (ie things With Plot and a Developed Setting that aren't just "let's do a ficlet with this well-known trope") that Do Not Feel Like They've At Least Thought About Why Soulmates Happen To Exist hurt my soul. which I think slightly intersects with my "I hate it when the rules of the universe/ laws of physics are human-centric" instead of "the base rules which were not designed for humans came first, and how the human world works arose in reaction to them" and. yeah. consistent desire to know at least for myself why things are set up the way that they're set up which gods ifmlam is wild and completely bullshit and pulls from quantum multiverse philosophy I started writing that thing when I was like. eighteen? nineteen? but at least it's there so I can be consistent.

as a caveat for everything above: I don't actually think that fiction, fanfiction in particular, needs to perfectly reflect what A Good Relationship or A Good Message About Relationships should be. it is a very human desire in a chaotic and confusing world to want a simple, absolute, binary thing to hold onto. fiction is a place for escapism or wish fulfillment or even exploring things that you wouldn't actually want in real life, I think that the movement in fandom/fiction that all of the messaging in your story should match the advice you'd give for a real-life setup is a bad and harmful one. mostly my opinions on soulmates and hence desire to do inversions of the soulmate trope in my fic and things like the red/blue/gold system and heavy emphasis on platonic relationships in original work that I'm writing is about a desire to see representation for me and the things I love and find important and my sort of relationships in the stories that are a big part of my life. but I am really glad that in doing so I seem to have struck a chord in other people, who maybe want to see the same thing!

[rjhpandapaws]

I Will Always Love You

Ch 1: You Won't be Alone This Time

Names/Translations:

Hank: Sealgair, Hennek

Connor: Curiosity, Feorachas

//TW: Death, memories of death, unrequited love

Curiosity wasn’t ready to see him again. That wasn’t to say that he hadn’t been happy to. He just hadn’t been ready. Curiosity had just gotten used to the idea of him being gone; and then there he was, like he had never even left. In another place and time as seemed to be mostly customary of these things, but he largely looked the same. Just like before his vibrant blue eyes were what drew curiosity in all over again, as it seemed he had not learned his lesson. Curiosity tried to stay away, but as they would eventually come to say: Curiosity killed the cat. He couldn’t stay away, not when Hennek looked at the world with so much wonder, the desire to know it in ways that books simply could not provide. Curiosity couldn’t ignore that, he had a hard time keeping his distance from overly curious humans as it was; but even then, with Hennek it was different. It felt like something bigger than the both of them, like Fate had written that wherever Hennek went Curiosity was to dutifully follow. It was an odd feeling, to think that as a being of Fate himself that his actions would seem so prewritten.

Like the predetermined beings he helped govern over, he gave into the pull and followed Hennek. By this point humans were trying to determine or create a god for themselves. Why; Curiosity could only guess. He would assume it was to help them understand the things he and Wisdom hadn’t yet shown them the answers to. The Beginning had told him to leave it alone, so for now he planned to. Hennek didn’t practice this newfound faith, but he was curious about it. Curiosity hadn’t given himself a form yet, he was only watching for now; just like last time he supposed. Perhaps Hennek - Sealgair in this life - would be better off like this; if he didn’t interfere. Sealgair was always alone; not truly though, since Curiosity lingered; but there were never any people with him. Solitary, he supposed would be the word to describe him, he wasn’t lonely. He seemed content to watch those around him rather than participate. Curiosity could understand that, humans were incredibly fascinating. HIs favorite creatures honestly, but they were not meant to be alone. That was what worried him. Sealgair made no moves to even be social, he was always on his own.

Curiosity started snooping, it couldn’t be helped really. He was the embodiment of curiosity; but moreover there had to be a reason. He had found Sealgair well into adulthood, there had to be something he had missed. Something he hadn’t gotten to see. There were always answers to these sorts of things, it was only a matter of digging for them. It took him months, closer to a year if he was honest, to start finding the answers he wanted. They were well hidden. Whatever had happened. Sealgair didn’t want anyone to know. Curiosity wasn’t a person so that was fine. Sure, he took his human form to interact with things, but that was more because as a mere presence he couldn’t open books. It was the principle of the matter. Sealgair had a family once, a wife and a little boy. The thought that Sealgair had loved someone else had stung, but it wasn’t like he had been there. According to the journals, he would dare to call them diaries he found hidden away, the relationship had crumbled rather quickly. Their child had been born ill and hadn’t made this fourth year. That was the start, the end of things had been Sealgair’s drams and ramblings.

Sealgair remembered having been Hennek, and him in a sense. He had vivid recall of the last  moments of his first life, down to Curiosity’s own presence, so he was aware that something was amiss. It was the rambling though; Sealgair trying to explain himself; that drove his wife away at long last. That was when Sealgair had made the choice to be alone. To observe. To try and find other like him. One of the journals went into detail of how Hennek had died. He was following someone that he had believed to be Curiosity, but he could never get close enough to get a good look. Every time he had called out Curiosity had only run faster. Of course; it hadn’t been him because he had been waiting for Hennek to return. Which made it one of three things; and age induced hallucination, Death dressed as him as she was known to do, or Balance luring him to his end. To where Death had been waiting. For the first time Curiosity cursed his own nature, he wished he had never learned any of this. He burnt the book as he held it, and it had taken a lot of his concentration to manifest his hurt and rage as a flame, but he wanted the book gone. Destroyed. When he looked up again Sealgair was standing in the doorway. His expression was an odd mix of recognition, fear, and awe; perhaps even anger for a moment.

“Its you.” Sealgair breathed, “I’ve seen you in my dreams. Beside me on that cliff. Why did you let me fall?” Curiosity was still processing the fact that he had been caught. He was certain he hadn’t been making that much noise, Sealgair wasn’t a light sleeper as it was. So Curiosity wondered what it was that had woken him. “Answer me Feorachas!” There was the anger from before. It rumbled in his voice and sharpened his eyes. “Why?” He pleaded, “Why did you kill me?” “That wasn’t - I didn’t... It wasn’t me.” He tried to explain, but the words caught in his throat, “I can show you that day from my perspective if you would like.” He tried to collect himself, but when the hurt persisted he decided that it wasn’t worth the effort, “I love you - loved - you. I wouldn’t have done that to you, even if The Beginning had threatened me with the end of the world.” He pleaded next, “Hennek, I need you to understand that. Please.” He wasn’t sure when he had reached out, or when he had started crying for that matter; but when Sealgair took his hand the memory took over. The sensation was a bit like free falling, and Curiosity was certain this was against all kinds of rules. He needed to do this though; Sealgair deserved to know.

Reliving that dat was not something that Curiosity was emotionally ready for. He had avoided thinking about this one day for centuries, so having to actively do so was difficult. Sealgair deserved to know; to understand. Curiosity would never hurt him, not then and not now. That was why he had tried to stay away. He watched Sealgair as he watched the memory. Observed as the emotions washed over him one by one in the same way they had done to him. Watched as he heard the words that version of Curiosity had said to him. The sight of his old body, even in that state, didn’t seem to bother him. He had long since come to terms with that death. What seemed to shake him bout it had been Curiosity’s reaction to finding him. When they were back to the present, to the real world as it were,  Sealgair stared back at him. “Who was it then?” He asked with a note of desperation to his voice, “Who was it that lead me to my death?” “I don’t know.” Curiosity replied with defeat in his own voice, “You were unwell so it could have been that, or my brother, or his... compatriot. There is enough that I don’t know and I can’t give you an answer. I’m sorry. I would like to know as well, who and moreover why. But that was an old life. It shouldn’t keep you from living this one Sealgair. Let go of it. I am with you now.” He squeezed Sealgair’s hand, “You aren’t alone this time.”

Curiosity stayed after that. Sealgair could use the company. There was no love this time, not from Sealgair; he was busy processing. So curiosity loved him privately. The village judged them harshly and Sealgair remained an outsider. If anything, Curiosity’s sudden presence might have made him more of one. Curiosity was lonely in his company, but he stayed. Sealgair deserved to no longer be alone. They were friends at the very least, and Curiosity helped when he could with what Sealgair allowed him to. Sealgair kept his distance and Curiosity got good at pretending that it didn’t hurt. He couldn’t blame him though, learning the things he had was probably unsettling. Humans weren’t meant to deal with their own mortality, and Curiosity probably should have been gentler in unloading it on him. Sealgair got to see old age, but farm work soon became too much for him. So Curiosity took over, he had learned how to do these jobs from observing Sealgair. Curiosity had aged only in appearance so he could handle the jobs just fine. He helped take care of Sealgair in the evenings, though Sealgair fought him the entire way. It was a matter of trust, the first time he had given Curiosity any form of faith he had died. Curiosity of course didn’t blame him. Even if he wished Sealgair would be a little less stubborn about it, but that wasn’t in his nature. Sealgair was many things, and stubborn was the first of them.

The years came on and eventually Sealgair was no longer aware of himself. He was kinder to Curiosity now, but it was brought out of not recognizing him and that hurt more than the distance ever had. Curiosity had retired the farm some years ago, he looked far too old to be doing that kind of work. All of his time was now spent with Sealgair. He was asleep more often than he was awake now, and Curiosity spent a lot of that time running his fingers through Sealgair’s age whitened hair. With all of the time he now spent with Sealgair, he was there when he died. It was a peaceful affair this time. She came for him in his sleep, a rattling exhale and then nothing. Curiosity had been ready to let him go this time so there wasn’t as much pain. He had kept his promise, though Sealgair had not made it easy to. He saw to it that Sealgair was properly buried then vanished. He hoped Sealgair might love him again in the next life. For now though, he had questions for Balance, and he would be getting his answers if Balance gave them to him or if Death did.

[homestuckexamination]

Soft Determinism

I remember that ask about whether people in Paradox Space/HOMESTUCK are truly free or if they’re tied to destiny. From what I observed, it’s both. Why would freedom and destiny not coexist together when you have Choices, Timeloops, and ghosts that persist on living at the same instance? On one hand, as Terezi proclaims, thoughts already have impact by themselves just by thinking about them. They are ideas that can be enacted upon to make it real and make your own Luck.

GC: B3C4US3 TH3Y TH1NK R34L1TY 1S SOM3TH1NG H4PP3N1NG TO TH3M

GC: GC: R4TH3R TH4N SOM3TH1NG TH3Y 4R3 M4K1NG 3V3RY MOM3NT W1TH 3V3RY THOUGHT

However, it’s a contest of differing wills and actions between the characters. One would act for betterment, the other would seek to dampen that progress- even through mind control. Environmental factors such as circumstance, paradoxes, the Alpha Timeline, the Doomed Timelines, and whatever SBURB throws at the player can impede or even destroy your attempts at overcoming ‘destiny’. It might even be a self-fulfilling prophecy that you and the game instilled upon yourself.

 In real life philosophy & sciences like physics and psychology, this is called ’soft compatibility’ or ’soft determinism’. It isn’t like hard compatibility/determinism in that it isn’t totally one-sided. The HS characters are free to act and think as they choose. Even if you deviate from the Alpha Timeline, you can still live on in the afterlife- whether like the ghosts that haunted Vriska or you accomplished certain tasks to achieve status as a SBURB ghost when you die like (Vriska). They can change “destiny”. They can act against what’s expected of them. *However* aside from the freedom-impeding factors I listed, their autonomy can be ultimately limited. From a meta/doylist perspective, they’re still controlled by an author/a group of authors. They have the ultimate say on how they feel, think, and act. Whether you’re Andrew Hussie, creator of Homestuck who willed the story to kill his avatar with “Death of the Author” in mind yet live again, or a fanfic writer who wants to make your theories and ships come true (at least in your stories), the characters are dictated- even after the Credits passed. As long as the visuals are drawn or the words are written, they are breathed life, albeit by the behest of a creator.

P.S. to Soft Determimation

I think that was missing from Terezi’s conclusion of reality. Making it all about exclusively the person’s thoughts & decisions ignores outside interference. It lead to pre-retcon Terezi blaming herself for the fates of her friends as well as feeling that Gamzee is the only one responsible for her sticking in their toxic relationship despite on her insistance that she stays.

Oh I really like this analysis! Though I’d like to add onto it from two angles: One the Authorial Spectrum, there are two Meta Layers of control. It’s not even from a philosophical standpoint, as the characters literally break the like, what is it, Fifth wall at that point? And interact with Authorial Forces, often times Becoming them in the process or challenging their views. In the same way, the Real World Authors also have self-inserts, leading to a split of Authorial Authority in two levels- The characters are aware there’s some sort of control, and the Authors are characters in the comic, but simultaneously, it’s real people who write them, leaving the structure of Authorial Control layered.

To make this even more complicated, the second addition, a reminder that the Alpha Timeline is this very same exerted will. There’s no predeterminism for the sake of it in Homestuck, things are predetermined into an Alpha, because they have already happened, and the Alpha Loop necessary to follow in HS is entirely determined by Lord English’ Existence. Outside of His influence, loops are bound to be smaller, even potentially nonexistent most of the time. It’s worth noting, too, that English himself is an Author Figure, opposing Calliope, the Good Fandom, and who has killed Hussie, the Original Author, to take over and cause as much mayhem and destruction as possible.

An extra addendum is the Ghosts themselves- Sure they influence the story, but they’re not intended to. It would make sense for Dead People and the Afterlife to be Doom, and yet it’s Void. This reflects the Meta Nature of the setting once more- Those who are alive are Light. They are Narratively Relevant and able to influence things, while those left behind, dead, are in the Void, left stranded, unable to grow, or develop, footnotes to the big picture.

And yet we have examples like Aranea or Meenah, or Vriska, fighting back against the clutches of Irrelevance, to face the Author Lord English himself- Characters Killed and Removed from the narrative, coming back with a vengeance against the Authorial Figure. Breaking narrative convention, coming back by themselves, facing the Biggest Threat on the setting while the supposed Protagonists seem almost separate from this side of the story...

SO yeah. God I love the Meta of Homestuck. All of these things aren’t even like, stretches or reaches, this is all textual.