#And of course my own self ships if anyone has any preference for those | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

idontblushsrry · 3 years

Text

Sesshomaru||NSFW Alphabet

A/N: That’s right, I wrote an NSFW alphabet for him as well. How could I not, he’s a hottie. Also somehow, I managed to keep this w a gender neutral reader, so all my Sesshomaru fans may enjoy (unless u ship s*ssrin, then leave)

Word Count: 1911

Warnings: Obviously nsfw

A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

After sex, Sesshomaru returns to his initial composure almost immediately. Like he’ll pant for a few seconds, wipe his dick off and then immediately, boom, like nothing ever happened. Of course, you, are thoroughly wrecked, needing Sesshomaru’s help, help which he is more than happy to give.

B - Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part on himself has to be his arm/arms (depending). He loves his arms for a reason completely separate from you, he just enjoys the fact that he finally has two arms, like he thinks back to all the times he didn’t properly appreciate his left arm, and vows to never make that same mistake.

C - Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

As much as he loves cumming on your body, nothing compares to the feeling of cumming inside you. He loves to watch you slowly lose all coherency as he just fucks you full of his cum. If you let this man cum inside you, you will unleash a whole new beast, that you’re gonna have to be prepared to deal with.

D - Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Sometimes, when Sesshomaru knows he’s going to be away from you for a long time, he tries to fuck you as much as possible. He knows that he’ll miss you and gets a little more lovey dovey, but above all, he’s trying to remember the feeling of you so he can better mimic it with his had.

E - Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Sesshomaru is extremely experienced, on account of both his rank and his power. Demons are attracted to power and rank and, being so noble, Sesshomaru has never had any trouble with finding a partner to warm his bed. He’s not versed in everything but he has a strong sense of intuition and a deep connection with his own desires.

F - Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

A bit cliché, but, his favorites are doggy style and mating press. Any position where he has the leverage to press you down and fuck into you also ranks pretty high on his list.

G - Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Sesshomaru is so serious in the moment. He gets so laser focused on pleasing you that he finds any distractions to be a bit...grating. That being said, you’re the exception, if he happens to make you laugh during sex, he’ll just roll his eyes affectionately before shutting you up with a kiss.

H - Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He’s about as well groomed as any man of his station at the time would be. He’s not exactly shaving down there but his hair is so fine that it isn’t unbearable. Also the carpet definitely matches the drapes, his hair is extremely light and it’s hard to see sometimes.

I - Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Sesshomaru is very intimate in subtle ways. He shows you hat he cares by doing little things to ensure your comfort. Whether it’s brushing sweat off your head, setting pillows under your hips, or retracting his nails when he holds you, Sesshomaru is the king of unspoken intimacy. He loves you and he’s going to show it in the most obvious way.

J - Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

As stated earlier, Sesshomaru really only jacks off out of necessity. He had no problem with getting someone to fuck, ad now that he has you, he doesn’t see the need to masturbate. The only time he’ll do so is if you’re gonna be away from him for a while and he’s really horny.

K - Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Sesshomaru has a breeding kink, sorry not sorry. Even if you can’t get pregnant, something in him just tells him to keep filling you with his cum until it spills out. At which point, he just repeats the process. He also has a thing for marking, whether it be by scent, hickies, or with his cum, he loves the reminder/proclamation that you’re his.

L - Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Sesshomaru’s not picky about location. He’s of the opinion that, as long as you’re comfy, he’s ok with it. He does enjoy having his fill of you in your shared bedroom, but yall aren’t really home often enough for him to be that particular about it.

M - Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

The only thing that turns Sesshomaru on is the sight/thought of you naked and waiting for him.

N - NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Sesshomaru does not care all that much for sharing, and in a similar vein, voyeurism. With voyeurism, he doesn’t mind fucking out in the open, as long as no one else is around. The second he gets whiff of anyone, he’s pulling out of you faster than you can even realize what’s going on. With sharing, just don’t ask. He won’t show it but, the thought of someone else even seeing you that vulnerable enrages him and sets off his baser instincts. If you suggest it, he’s going to be very hurt for some time.

O - Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Sesshomaru probably didn’t even know about oral until you went down on him for the first time. While he isn’t exactly the most experienced in it, he more than makes up for it with his sheer voracity. If you ask him to give you head, he’s getting on his knees, laying you back like, “say less”.

P - Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Sesshomaru can be both but he tends to lean on the more fast and rough side. Sure, your hips and legs hurt, but who can really complain when there’s a powerful demon pounding into you like a jackhammer.

Q - Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

When you first told Sesshomaru what a quickie entailed, he was intrigued. Admittedly, he didn’t like the concept at first, but the more he thought about it the more it grew on him. He likes the thought of you being so needy for him that you’d rather jump him as soon as possible than wait to get home.

R - Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

In terms of experimentation, Sesshomaru’s not all that open to it. He’ll try if you insist but he’s definitely not one to suggest any experimentation. As for risks in terms of location, as long as he’s far enough from others, he doesn’t really care where y’all fuck or how loud you are.

S - Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He can go as long as you can. He does like to build your endurance more and more each time, but sex in general with him is a serious time commitment. He’s more than willing to space it throughout the day if that would suit you better.

T - Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

No toys, Sesshomaru doesn’t see the point in them. It also goes back to his thing about sharing, while he won’t be as angry as he would be with another person there, the thought infuriates him. Just thinking about an object getting to feel you in the same way he does make him see red.

U - Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Sesshomaru prefers not to tease, but he will if he feels the need to. He prefers to get straight to the point, letting you cum as many times as he sees fit to, honestly, prep you to take him in. But if he’s feeling particularly slighted, (whether by you or some demon he can’t quite murder) he’ll take it all out on you. While he won’t tease you in public, in private, he’ll work you up, get you right on the edge of cumming, and then pull it away. The more you whimper and whine, the more tempted he is to draw out your torture.

V - Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Sesshomaru is pretty quiet... usually. While he prides himself on his control, of which extends even to the bedroom, letting out a few grunts once he’s about to cum, his rut is a different story. Sesshomaru refuses to talk about or even acknowledge how unihinged he acts during his rut but honestly, the moment he gets a whiff of your arousal, he sounds like a wild animal. Every repressed emotion and sound comes bubbling back up to the surface and he just goes around growling and panting until he can stick his dick in you.

W - Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Sesshomaru tries his best to be gentle/hold back with you. It’s not obvious and you haven’t noticed because most of it happens in the heat of the moment when you’re distracted by...other things. But, he knows he tends to lose himself inside of you so in preparation, he’ll remove his hands from your body and let his claws rip into the surface under/behind you, whether it be a tree, bed, or just the floor. One of these times, his poison accidently activated and he shielded your body by leaning down and making out with you. That day, he discovered his affinity for kissing you while pounding into you.

X - X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Mans got a third leg, I just know. The baggy pants hide it pretty well but when you manage to pull it out, he’s easily 8 inches (10-12 when fully hard depending on circumstances), uncut, and really pretty. Like other parts of him, Sesshomaru’s dick is beautiful, a small patch of silver hair near his base. Speaking of, Sesshomaru does have a knot, if he cums inside of you, he tries to do so without getting it stuck just because of the fact that it’s kind of a hassle waiting it out. But if you let him knot you and the situation allows it, he might go a little feral whoops.

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Sesshomaru has a pretty high sex drive and before you, he could control it pretty well in all instances besides his rut. He still maintains his impeccable control but he finds himself ready to go a lot more often than he used to be. Like if you ask him, he’s immediately down regardless of what he’s doing. The only time that he gets supernaturally and uncontrollably horny is when he goes into rut. At which point...good luck getting his dick out of you.

Z - ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

While Sesshomaru doesn’t really get tired after sex in the same way you do, he does understand when you’re kind of tapped out for the night/day/moment and is more than content to watch you sleep. After a while though, the sounds of your heartbeat and the quiet sounds of your breathing will set him at ease and put him to sleep.

#sesshomaru x reader #sesshomaru imagines #sesshomaru imagine #x reader #inuyasha x reader #inuyasha imagines #black reader #x black reader #idontblushsrry

2K notes · View notes

glowingbadger · 3 years

Note

I didn’t know you did yandere. That’s revelation of the year and I’m hella thirsty for some sfw yandere, so how about yandere! Dimitri headcannons pre! time skip or post! I’m warning you, doing this ask will probably force me to come back and ask for the other headcannons between the time skip cause I’m greedy and your writing makes me happy. Hell, I may ask for a third set of headcannons for once he redeems himself post! time skip and is ascending the throne. What can I say, this is a hot girl summer and your writing is a tall glass of water.

I gotta admit, I haven't really considered SFW Yandere much in the past haha, but I'm willing to give it some thought! Just for reference for those interested, my general policy on Yandere is something I'm willing to do occasionally and at my own discretion, and of course I'll always tag and CW it heavily.

As one more note on this- I'm not gonna be writing anything pre-timeskip, as is my general policy for FE3H. I know you said SFW, but if it's self-shipping content at all, I don't write students.

But! All that said! Let's talk about Feral and Post-War/Less-Feral Yandere Dimitri~ Obviously, a big TW for this one if you aren't into Yandere characterization - please don't push yourself to read something that will make you uncomfy <3

Yandere!Dimitri x GN Reader

Early War, "Feral" Dimitri:

- Dimitri has spent so much time in suffocating, consuming darkness that realizing that he now has a chance to keep you safe- to preserve this one last speck of light in his life- rapidly develops into an obsession. There's hardly even a "confession" of feelings from him. Moreso, he just begins to hover near you at all times, his voice low and with a clear manic edge when he tells you, "I don't care what I must do, or what sins I must commit. I will keep you here. I will keep you alive. Even you yourself will not be spared punishment if you choose to endanger yourself or stray from my sight."

- You're absolutely not allowed on the battlefield, and after a fight, the first thing Dimitri does is come check on you where you're kept in your designated quarters. A handful of times, he's come back to you still covered in blood- his own and others'- caring little for his injuries in the face of his need to assure your safety. You'll likely have to either learn some basic healing yourself, or accompany him to the infirmary, as your presence is the only thing that soothes his wild bloodlust after a battle, and he doesn't even think to care for himself when he has you to focus on.

- Anyone who dares to insult or- goddess help them, harm you in any way- is dealt with swiftly and brutally. Dimitri doesn't care if he has to rip the poor bastard apart in front of you. No threat to his one last light can be tolerated. In fact, once or twice he'll specifically bring someone to you who he feels has mistreated you, and there's an almost ceremonial formality to his retribution, as he presents them to you and looks you in the eye while he breaks the target's arm behind their back like snapping a toothpick.

- His punishments when you refuse to behave for him are harsh and decisive as well. He's not above causing you physical harm or discomfort, but he doesn't prefer it, only resorting to such methods when you've done something he deems exceedingly transgressive, like getting too close to a battle, or neglecting to tell him when you go somewhere for the afternoon. For smaller infractions, like spending too much time with someone other than himself ("No one can be trusted- not with you. Not when your loss would be so grave.") or trying to challenge him regarding his methods, his punishments are more of imprisonment. He'll keep you barred in your room for a time- or his, if he feels you can't be trusted alone- perhaps even binding your wrists. "I could break you in an instant," he reminds you with a dangerous shadow across his gaze, "I choose to keep you safe. I decide that your heart still beats and you live to draw breath. Remember that."

Post-War King Dimitri:

- The main difference in behavior is that there's a veneer of calm around Dimitri's uniquely disturbed way of caring for you now. Generally, he handles you in a soft and gentlemanly fashion- but there's no mistake that the burning obsession that seized his mind long ago is still well and present. Nobles of all territories under Kingdom rule know that you are to be approached and addressed with the utmost care and respect, lest they face the wrath that still simmers deep within the King's heart.

- In fact, King Dimitri has brought offending nobles before you in the throne room to have them executed at your feet for their transgressions. With time, you may be able to convince Dimitri to at least allow you yourself to pass judgement before sentencing, but by then, the people of the Kingdom know to tread carefully in how they behave and speak to or about you.

- Your king dictates each and every aspect of your day to day life- where you go and when, and who is allowed to accompany you, how you're dressed, and what you eat. It seems like a sweet gesture to some that Dimitri quite likes feeding you by hand, but you recognize this as one more way for him to exercise control and maintain the peace of mind that it grants him. In general, your life together with the King is a comfortable one wherein you're provided any and everything you could desire- as long as you behave as your king demands.

- If you're good for him, Dimitri will be the picture of a gentleman towards you. But you know well by now that the feral beast still lurks in his past and in some dark corner of his mind, and that any threat to your safety, or indication that you may leave his life would certainly provoke him. Surely those who have been executed at his hand for dishonoring you know this well, as the last thing they see is the cold, righteous fury in his eye before his blade descends.

#yandere #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #dimitri x reader #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #feh #fe3h #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem imagines #fire emblem headcanons #tw yandere

228 notes · View notes

thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Time And Time Again

Dream x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, Romance, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Basically a rundown of some of the most recent cute moments brought to you by the most adorable will-they-won’t-they couple: Y/N and Dream.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your wonderful request, it really made my day when I received it! I hope I captured what you wanted and what you had in mind in the fic and I hope you enjoy the read! This is my first time writing for Dream so I hope I don’t mess it up hehe. Love, Vy ❤

“I don’t wanna go in the cave!“ Y/N squeals in terror when she realizes that in order to make progress in the game and continue moving onward with the story, she has to walk Blake through the dark, dingy and danger-ridden cave in Outlast 2. The gang’s all there with her on a Discord call to keep her company, knowing she’s a scaredy cat underneath that tough girl exterior. And being the scaredy cat she is while also having a preference for horror games has made Friday nights very interesting for her and her friends: her, Clay, George and Sapnap sit on a Discord server while she streams whatever horror game she had planned for the evening to her close to her thousands of viewers.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I’ll come with you, imma hold your hand the whole time.“ Clay volunteers wholeheartedly without a second to waste.

Much to his disappointment, however, Y/N’s reply to that is: “Not until you go wash off all that cheeto dust that’s all over your fingers.“

Clay gasps dramatically, “How DARE you? I offer you help and comfort and this is the thanks I get? I hope one of those heretics in teaches you a lesson!”

While the pair are now in a full-on ‘heated’ dispute on their manners and politeness, bringing back things they did wrong as far back as three years ago, George and Sapnap are just connecting the dots silently.

“Wait, Y/N...“ George is the one to finally speak up, “How’d you know he’s eating cheetos?”

Taking a momentary break from the bickering, Y/N reassumes her more sweet tone of voice as he addresses him, “He freaking raided my cabinets and has eaten all my snacks already! He’s only been here for two hours, damn it!”

“Don’t make it sound like I inhaled a mountain of snacks in two hours! You literally had only two bags of snacks - meant for one person, mind you!“ Clay argues back, neither him nor Y/N realizing that this accidental outing will send their fandoms in a fit.

Of course, people hang out at their friends’ all the time, nothing weird there. This wouldn’t have been such a big deal to anyone if Sapnap didn’t say:

“How come Clay has the privilege of coming over to place and George and I don’t?“

Oh boy...

* * *

“Hi everyone! I know you guys couldn’t care less for an intro so Imma get right into it...“ Y/N says, all seemingly in one breath, “You see this masked man next to me? This tree of a man right here? Yes? Good, well judging by that poorly made cardboard mask he’s wearing - curtsey of yours truly - you probably already know who he is. If not, meet Dream, aka Clay, aka the raincloud above my parade.“

That specific laugh echoes throughout the room as the said tree-of-a-man wraps an arm around the significantly smaller girl’s shoulders, pulling her closer till their sides collide, “She loves me, trust me, she does.”

“Only when you bring me food though.“ She corrects him, wiggling his shoulders to see if she could set herself free from his grip but relaxing in his embrace when she realizes she won’t be going anywhere unless he willingly lets her go.

Clay tilts his head to the side to look at her through the holes poked into the mask before lifting his free arm to reveal the plastic bag he’s been holding all this time. “Oh, well then I wonder what I’ve got over here...”

“Oh my God, Panda Express! You’re the best, Clay.“ She squeals, grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and pulling him down while she simultaneously pushes up on her toes to place a kiss on his cheek which is a tiny bit exposed to her between the mask and the hood he’s got over his head.

Before the man could even recover, he finds himself empty handed, having lost the girl and having lost the bag of food to the girl.

That kiss was worth it though.

* * *

“Ok, so I’ve seen this ‘my girlfriend does my makeup’ challenge going around and since I’m single as all hell, I got my best friend Y/N here to do my makeup.“ Clay points to Y/N who’s holding a makeup bag in one hand and is giving him a very disappointed look, “Judging by the look on her face, she’s not at all impressed but I promise to make her a bit more excited to be here in editing.“

“Of course I’m unimpressed, this is the troll video of troll videos!“ She complains, throwing her arms up, “Sure I’ll do your makeup and get a kick out of it myself but none of them will see it!“ She points to the camera, “None of them will know what amazing makeup artist skills I’ve got.“

This leaves Clay speechless for a moment, uncertain of how to reply to her statement before just deciding to say: “Well, at least you’ll be getting a kick out of it, that’s all that matters to me.”

“Aww...“ Y/N bats her eyelashes at the camera as her bottom lip forms an emotional pout, “Please don’t be so sweet to me after I just verbally kicked your ass. You always do that and make me feel like the meanest person in the world.“

“Aww Y/N, I’m so sorry.“ He says, sounding genuinely apologetic as he wraps his arms around the girl that’s tiny in comparison to him, bringing her closer to him with his tight hug.

“YOU’RE DOING IT AGAIN!“

* * *

“Hey Clay, I bought lunch on the way so I hope you’re-” Walking into her friend’s recording room abruptly, Y/N finds herself face to face with his webcam, the light next to which is glowing, suggesting the device is on and she’s currently on the screens of the thousands of people watching Dream’s stream. His mask is on - the one she made for him - of course, but she can still feel the aura of him smiling, relieving her of the worry that he’ll be irritated by her walking in like that - unannounced and without knocking. To be fair, they never announced to one another when they’d be stopping by and by this point in their friendship they have also stopped knocking too. “You’re streaming, huh?”

“Yup!“ The word is said in such a teasing manner she almost allows herself to blush, “What you got there tho?“

“Chipotle.“ She answers shortly, “And I’m starving so can we please turn your stream into a Mukbang?“ She furrows her brows as she inspects what’s on his computer screen, looking at a comment section instead of the usual screen of a game she’s used to seeing. “What are you doing, anyway?“

Looking back at his screen for a brief moment before turning back to her, Clay replies, “Oh, just reading mean comments, as one does to boost their self-esteem.”

The flash of anger he sees on Y/N’s face is most certainly not what he was inspecting to see. Mockery, yes. Humor, yes. Faux sympathy followed by some mean comments of her own, definitely. But he anger he did not see coming at all.

“Who’s talking shit about you? I’ll end them!“ Putting the plastic bag of delicious food aside, forgetting all about it in the process, Y/N grabs a chair and drags it over next to Clay’s so she too can look at his screen.

And that boy has never felt so much adoration for his best friend. Their fans - and especially their shippers - would’ve lost it if they had been able to see the look he was giving her.

* * *

(back to the ‘girlfriend/best friend does my makeup vid’)

“Ok, so what kind of look do you want me to give you?“ Y/N asks as she sits down on the stool in front of Clay, her makeup products placed on the dining table which is to her right.

“You ask me as though I know what I want.“ Clay laughs, the sticker of his mask floating above his face, following his movements as to keep his features hidden, “Just do the look you do on yourself everyday. It looks really cute on you, who knows, I might be able to pull it off too.“

“Sure thing.“ She smiles at her friend’s compliment, “Just stand still, ok?“

“Yes, ma’am.“

* * *

“Y/N, no! Stop!“ Clay warns her via the Discord call while the two are streaming Minecraft together alone for once, “Not another word!“

“But I really do feel bad!“ Y/N whines in response, “Why don’t you allow me to apologize?“

“Because there’s nothing to apologize for!“ He says, clearly done with the conversation, “I willingly gave you my jacket, you didn’t ask for it.“

“And now you’ve got a cold because of it!“ She continues arguing her case, “The least I can do is come over to take care of you.“

“I don’t need a pity nurse, thank you very much.“ Clay bites back, “But your company would be nice. Though I don’t want you to catch whatever cold I have.“

“I’d catch any cold for you, Clay.“ She replies teasingly - with a ton of honesty underneath that teasing.

Honesty both her and Clay are aware of. As well as the mob of people watching their streams right now.

~ ~ ~ And so the snowball effect continues with little moments sprinkled throughout their online presences that make the snowball of shipping get bigger and bigger. Every now and then, both Y/N and Clay let little bits of their true adoration and admiration for the other slip through. And time and time again do those moments send their fans in a frenzy.

Rightfully so.

@kia-isabelle

249 notes · View notes

skyprowler · 3 years

Text

If I had any talent (or patience) I would like to write a Silmarillion AU where Fëanor does also end up stealing a boat but with the little difference that:

a. he is still a very teenage Fëanor and

b. it is just one boat - which he has no idea how to steer

In a fit of rage he decides to run away, since no one wants him anyway, everyone prefers his brother, and a boat seems a good option because what have the so called blessed lands of the blessed Valar ever done for him! I mean, which child or teenager has never seriously considered running away? He would have probably reneged on his attempt (as most of us do) but by the time he was clear headed enough, he was already on a boat he had only theoretical knowledge of how to navigate with a brewing storm and a rapidly vanishing shoreline at his back - even if he would never acknowledge it publicly he knew at that point that he had fucked up. The only positive (maybe?) thing about the whole situation being that his fellow apprentice and daughter of his master Nerdanel ended up in said boat with him - trying to stop him of course. If it had been anyone else Fëanor would have been quick to blame them for “distracting him with their arguing” and therefore being responsible for the boat coming off course but Nerdanel was the only person next to Mathan himself he would not dare to accuse of this. By some luck or divine providence (or divine spite? or Ulmo just not noticing?) they end up being washed all the way back to Middle Earth where they meet distant kin, new challenges, adventures and tragedies.

Finwë is inconsolable of course and searches far and wide but he just cannot find his firstborn. Even the Valar do not give him a clear answer to where his son might be found (they themselves are frantic because their sight of Middle Earth is shadowed at this point in time, no one wants to tell Finwë that this, according to Ulmo, is most likely where his missing progeny ended up, and Mandos is frothing at the mouth and not responsive due to destiny currently being a mess of constantly rearranging parts in his brain).

While Fëanor ’s half-siblings do share in their father’s grief they are understandably not as destroyed by this event as their father. As time passes wounds both on this and the other side of the sea start to mend because they are not currently being kept open by proximity. And encountering other elves who know the grief of the death of a parent and seeing how they handle it even the haughty eldest son of Finwë starts to both understand his own feelings and why his stance towards his father’s decision and siblings’ existence might have to be reconsidered (slightly! At most!), if only that he himself might find peace (his firstborn will still be Nelyafinwë, reconsidering spite should never go too far). In the depths of my brain, where it will most likely stay, this tale would further include: survival and bickering in Middle Earth, a great deal of inventions (some the same as in the Silmarillion, some new due to circumstance), Fëanor and Nerdanel slowly falling in love and deciding that being king or queen is vastly overrated, somehow still ending up with their own realm (probably the equivalent of a very very large and well defended university with more holdings) and Fëanor gets to meet dwarves. More random would be our dearest pyromaniac being astonished how people DARE to call him an arrogant prick! Nerdanel delighting in her friend finally being utterly bad at something (he never ever learns to steer a ship) and Melian wondering if this was actually revenge for not telling her brethren where she went for a few hundred years. Finally, after Melkor’s release he spreads rumours that it was Indis’ faction who got rid of the crown prince and as a results her children vow to find their brother and proof him wrong. This starts a whole new set of issues (which thankfully include grudgingly lent but not stolen ships) but at the end stands a surprisingly successful family reunion. However, Fëanor and his family refuse to return to Valinor thereby cementing the Noldorin presence in Middle Earth. (”The only happiness I ever found in Valinor, father, was your love and joy, my wife and my craft. My wife and craft have come with me to these shores and much more happiness then I had ever hoped for has sprung from the lands that others had proclaimed unworthy. Long ago I could not understand your decision to remarry, but now, after all this time I find my views much changed. As you once chose happiness, partnership and a future that seemed worth living, knowing that it would hurt one you love yet not diminishing that love, I, too, have now come to make the same decision. And as I now know and understand your choice, I hope you too will understand the decision I made to not return to Valinor, even though I love you and do not want to cause you grief” - yo, or something along those lines. I have no idea.). Would I ever get to it, it would be very very self-indulgent, with a happy (or at least bitter-sweet) ending for everyone and Beleriand not vanishing under tons of water. But, yeah. I have no patience or talent. So, this is probably all I will ever write down regarding this matter.

128 notes · View notes

talkfantasytome · 3 years

Text

'Twas Never Meant to Be - An Opinion

I have a lot of thoughts about this, and really need to get them out. So, let's talk about Elain and Azriel.

First off, I want to warn you, this post is a beast. Like, over 7.5k words beast. It just kept going. I'm sorry, but I didn't know what to take out and, honestly, I didn't want to spend a lot of time heavily editing it. Tread knowingly. I will not be offended if anyone chooses not to read it, or not to read it all.

Secondly, I want to say that this post is not meant to be a pro-Gwynriel or pro-Elucian post. Regardless of my personal ships, I want to explain why I, personally, do not believe Elain and Azriel would be right for each other. And these reasonings go far beyond "because I'd prefer them with someone else". In fact, these beliefs and feelings are first and foremost in my mind when considering all three of these ships, and any feelings I may or may not have on other ships are always second to my belief that they would not be right together. I will do my best to keep Gwyn and Lucien out of the comparison, unless using them as a way to point to something that would be wrong between Elain and Azriel - versus stating any reason why the other would be right.

The first two reasons I will share are ones I have been holding on to for quite a while, and have only become stronger with more content (Silver Flames). I have, personally, not seen much around these two thoughts, but recognize that they may be out there already, as there is no new thought under the sun. So, here goes:

Step Away From the Characters

Honestly, my first reason really has nothing to do with the characters themselves at all, but it's something I can't get out of my head. It's a personal thing, I know, as everyone might see it differently, but I can't help but feel like the three brothers ending up with the three sisters would be too perfect, too convenient.

I know that it's a shit argument when talking about an SJM book, and the more I read about the series, and the more books that come out within it, the more I recognize this. It makes me sad. But personally, I can't get behind this storyline, this ending that is so perfect it makes my skin crawl. It's not how life works, and it doesn't really make sense. If it were three adoptive sisters, as the bat boys are, it would actually make more sense, because it would stand to reason that you would have a two groups that mirror each other. That one girl who mirrored Rhys, let's say, then befriended to the point of sisterhood ones that mirrored the boys that Rhys befriended to the point of brotherhood. But Nesta, Elain, and Feyre are sisters by blood, not by choice, and so it isn't an automatic that they would be that reflection to the boys. And even though the boys lived together, and weren't fully brought together by choice as much as Mrs. Rhys's mother, they still chose to stay together and be brothers.

We have never, not fully, seen the Archerons make those same choices. These boys live together (or used to), work together, truly share their lives. The Archerons don't. The girls were disconnected before becoming Fae, and they are still disconnected after it. You see it more clearly with Nesta, of course, trying to stay away from the group, stay separate. But you see it with Feyre and Elain too. You see how Elain practically gives up on Nesta, and how Feyre discredits and dismisses Elain as anything more than just a kind soul who likes to garden. You can't, for two seconds, convince me that the Archerons have as similar or as bonded relationships to each other as the bat boys, and that alone tells us that we should not expect them to mirror the boys.

I would also like to note, looking back at the characters for a second, that it has been observed by others how Feyre and Nesta do seem to have similar energies a lot. On top of that, you could argue that Nesta mirrors all three bat boys in one way or another. It's one theory as to why she and Rhys struggle so much with each other, because they're too similar. And, you can't convince me that Az and Nesta don't share a bond because of their own similarities. Nesta's fire was cold as ice. Rhys once observed Azriels rage as an 'icy rage'. I don't think I need to mention how Nesta mirrors Cassian, but it's there too. So, the fact that she would be the sister who ended up with a mate from the Night Court, one of these three brothers, just made a lot of sense. But Elain, who is so different from her sisters, she doesn't have that same energy. It's not a bad thing, but it helps make sense why she would be the one with a mate from outside this Court.

Beyond this, however, I still struggle with the three and three come together concept. And that's coming from someone who actually has, within her family, a story of two brothers marrying two sisters - my great grandparents (or great great, I can never remember). So, I know stuff like this does happen, though admittedly my only experience is with two and two, and naturally I do believe that the likelihood of the full group being with the full other group goes down with each additional number. Regardless of that, though, it is an author's job to tell a story that we can connect to, and having such convenient and perfect endings makes it difficult to do just that. Because life isn't like that.

So I struggle with the concept of this. Like I said, the more I get to know these books, this series, the more I understand that this is not a great argument for why Elain and Azriel aren't endgame considering how other things have played out, but I still think it's a good argument for why they shouldn't be. However, I would also say that the argument that they will end up together because it's three brothers and three sisters is completely off base and illogical, for reasons I've mentioned above. What is the purpose of that? How does that drive the plot and the story and world? How does it connect us to them better? It doesn't. All it does is be just a convenient little bow that has no true purpose, unless there is true purpose as to why each sister ended up with each brother. And I don't really see a purpose as to why Elain would end up with Az except that they're both the last sibling, and that they currently like each other. But that doesn't mean they're right for each other, and I don't see how them being together will spur the story and the world forward the way Feyre and Rhys did, and the way Nesta and Cassian can and/or will.

As someone who dabbles in writing, I have thought about these types of things, and I'm always adjusting plans and thoughts when I realize I've gone into that too perfect la la land, and I'd like to believe that all writers do that. SJM has had some convenient endings, but I will say I've not yet felt like any ending was just too perfect. The closest was, of course, ACOWAR. But even then, you still had threads, misunderstandings, questions, and things you weren't happy about. Yes, the ending felt a bit perfect, but we still lost the Bone Carver, Mr. Archeron, the Suriel, etc. There were still things that made it less than completely perfect. And much of what was done in the ending did move this story forward, and provide the opening for what we are now getting. And, in the same vein, I like to think that SJM would recognize how this would be too much. But, I don't hold out a lot of hope on this reasoning alone, it's really just something I had to get off my chest.

Share Life With Me

This next point is huge for me, in my mind. Again, it is based off of my own personal opinions of some characters, as well, so I do understand that some people may not agree with this argument. That's fine, but you will not sway me.

It all comes down to one thing. What does Az want?

In the Az POV chapter we are finally told, out right, that he does want Elain. But, my question - does he really?

I have been thinking about this since long before Silver Flames, since we all knew Az had a crush, but it wasn't as cemented until Silver Flames came out, and we saw how Nesta and Cassian would develop as a couple. Because, and here's the kicker, I don't believe Az actually wants Elain.

Yes, you read that right. I know he thinks he wants Elain. I know he believes she's kind and beautiful. And I recognize that there was a sexual tension there - I'm not blind. But I don't believe that Elain is the end goal Azriel is actually looking for.

I believe that she is a representation of that end goal.

This mostly comes down to his conversation with Rhys, his belief about the Cauldron:

"The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another." He had never before dared speak the words aloud.

Okay, first - Az, please see point above. Also, I can't help but feel like SJM put that in here almost to show that this isn't actually a valid argument.

Second, let's dissect that argument for a moment. Now, perhaps Az is just trying to find what he considers a more 'objective' reason for why Elain should be his, why they should be together. However, if that were the case, then why would he have never dared speak those words aloud? Most likely because he knows it's not a solid argument, and logical Az knows this. But this is 2 AM, you just stopped me from kissing the girl I fancy Az, and he definitely is not being his most logical self.

It's also not a logical or good argument because of one simple word. Given. "…the third was given to another." Az, you're better than this. I truly want to believe you're better than this. I understand that the mating bond is weird, and inherently at least slightly sexist, but that doesn't give any male the right to really look at it that way. Especially when you consider the explanation that the mating bond will be present between two perfect equals. This is seen in ACOMAF when Feyre can't believe Rhys would be her mate, because that's what it would mean, that she's his equal. This also paints Elain as an object, which, no matter what anyone's feelings are toward the character, is not okay. She is a person. A fictional one, but still a person, she cannot be given unless she chooses to give herself. The Cauldron simply dictated who it believes is best for her, and vice versa. I'm not saying the Cauldron was right, or that she and Lucien would be good together, but that's what the mating bond is. To argue that the Cauldron was wrong because two brothers got two of the sisters, but the third was given to another is inherently wrong, because Elain cannot be given away.

It also shows that maybe Az really isn't truly seeing Elain for who she is, if he is thinking of it this way. I do believe that Az is a feminist, or, at least, more of a feminist than most of the males in Prythian (which, sadly, doesn't seem to be saying much). So I don't believe this is a comment based on a sexism in Az we haven't seen yet, I truly don't. I believe that it is a comment made by someone whose judgement is clouded, and who is, as I stated earlier, using Elain as a representation of what he's really looking for. He seems to idolize her, put her on a pedestal, believe that she is all light, all good. (Az, please see my previous post on that little nugget.) He objectifies her not because he truly believes she is an object, but because she has become a symbol in his mind - she is not the person Elain to him. She is the one he should have, the one who will bring him what he wants. Note I didn't say the one he wants. Whenever a person puts another on a pedestal the way Az has with Elain, whenever someone idolizes them, or believes that said person will fix all of their woes, they are subconsciously objectifying them. That being is no longer seen as a true person, with all the flaws and struggles and ugly parts. They are something else. And those types of feelings about another person never end in a good relationship, because at least one side is always expecting too much from the other, and they rarely learn to cope with what they didn't expect. And, for the record, you should never really be 'coping' with your partners flaws, but that's a conversation for another day.

Beyond being not a truly logical argument, and showing us how Azriel has actually objectified Elain in his mind, I also believe this statement gives us insight into what Az actually wants. He could have said a number of things to express a belief (or desire) that the Cauldron was wrong. He could have talked about his feelings for Elain. About how he thinks their personalities are too compatible for them to not be rightfully mates. Pretty much, he could have said something about Elain, and how they are right together because of who they are.

But he didn't.

Instead, Az brought up his two brothers and their mates. How they each got one, so surely the third should be his. And why did he do this? Again, maybe 2 AM Az who had lost his logic just thought this was an objective reason. But I think there's more to it than that. I think he brought up those other relationships as a way to point toward what it is he really wants. Because that's what's on his mind. It's not that Elain is perfect for him, that she is everything he could have ever hoped for in a female. It's that she is the sister of his brother's two mates, and he wants what his brothers have. So, clearly, that must mean that it's Elain who can give him that.

Again, Az, please read my first point. Because that's not a guarantee just because they're related.

Now, I imagine most people are saying, "Well, duh. We all know he wants what they have. He said so earlier on in the chapter." And he did:

Azriel couldn't stop it. The envy in his chest. Of Cassian, and Rhys.

So, it's not new. But, this argument he provided highlights that so specifically. He wants what his brothers have. Not a mate, per se. No. What they have.

But, wait, a mate is what they have. What are you saying?

Yes, a mate is what each of them have. But, as we know, not all mates are perfect for each other. Rhys and Feyre, and Cassian and Nesta are both examples of how right the mating bond can be. But, let's instead look at what they both have, in points, instead of just saying they have a mate. Here are, from my interpretation, the main common aspects of these two relationships:

Love. Sure, Nesta and Cassian hadn't said it yet. But, yes, they love each other, they're just both stubborn and scared and maybe not ready to say it.

Heavy sexual attraction and chemistry. This may not always be the most important piece of a relationship, but it's blatant in both of theirs, and it's clear that Az wants that as well. Which is fair.

Friendship. It's hard to see it at times, because these books are so much about the romance, but I do believe that both couples are truly friends who like to spend time together. Who can have fun together. We don't get to see this enough - and I do wish we saw more of it - but it is there. It's there when Cassian throws his head back laughing at something Nesta said. Or when Rhys is thrilled when sassy Feyre appears. And yes, it is in part the mating bond, making them want to be near each other, but they still enjoy that time together. Mates who aren't right for each other wouldn't.

True partners. In these two relationships, they are more than just each other's mate, lover, friend. They are and/or are becoming partners. In their relationships, Rhys and Cass have found a female who they can share their lives with. Completely and fully. In Feyre, Rhys has found a High Lady, a female who is his true equal, who can rule the Court with him. They work together, plan together. And Rhys can come home at night and tell her everything about his day. In Nesta, Cass has found someone who, I believe, will grow to command with him. Likely female units, but she is still mirroring Cass in that way. She may not become his true equal in terms of being Commander of the Night Court, but she would still be his partner. He will still be able to strategize with her, the two working together to determine where each unit will go. He will command the Illyrians, and by his side she will command the Valkyries. And he can come home, at the end of the day, and tell her everything about his day.

It's this last piece that I want to really dig into, because that is what separates Rhys and Cassian's relationships from others we have seen, in my opinion, and thus that is what Az wants. It's not just a mate, he wants what his brothers have, a true partner who he can fully share his life with. Because that is what makes their relationships so special.

And, in the end, I do not believe Elain can be that for him.

I am not trying to discredit Elain, or say that she is simple, or that she can't do anything but garden and be a housewife. No. That is not my point. I do think, however, that what it would entail to be a true partner to Az is something she does not want to do. And that is okay! It is okay for her to want to garden and bake. It's okay to not wish to be involved in all of the plotting and planning and little missions and quests that the Inner Circle does. It's okay to not want to train. To be happy as you are.

But she can't do both. She can't be a true partner to Azriel and remain as she is. Now, perhaps she does want more, and I have misread her. It's possible, I am not infallible. However, she hasn't ever truly shown us anything that tells me otherwise. And, no, I don't believe her offering to find the Dread Trove in Silver Flames counts as I don't believe she offered to do so out of the goodness of her heart or because she wanted to do it. I believe she wanted to prove Nesta wrong. (Again, you can see this in my previous post.) So, to be a true partner to Azriel, she may have to change everything that she is. And that's not fair to her.

And, even if I am way off on a lot of this. Even if she does want to do more for the Night Court. There is one thing that we have learned about Elain:

She does not wish to fight, she does not wish to train.

I'm sorry, you can't convince me otherwise. Not when she has had ample opportunity to do so in the year, year and a half since Hybern, and still hasn't. It was different with Nesta, who was dealing with a lot of other things, but Elain has been, for the most part, fairly healthy. Her not training is her choice because of who she is.

Again, this is okay! I am not insulting Elain for this, not at all. I get it. I don't particularly love working out - the main exercise I get is from rock climbing twice a week, that's it. So I get it. However, you cannot work with Azriel and not be trained, not know how to fight. Even if Elain could be silent, or infiltrate courts easily, and learn secrets, you need those skills, even if it's just a fallback to ensure you can escape should something go wrong. But it also helps to understand these types of things, to understand battle and politics and everything else. It's not about whether she can do this, it's about whether she wants to do this, and I'm not sure she does. So she would either have to change who she is, and be unhappy to become Az's partner, or she wouldn't be able to be that. And, admittedly, if she were unhappy, he still wouldn't have what his brothers have.

However, on top of that, I also don't know if Azriel would let Elain be his true partner. Think about when they're at dinner, talking about how Nesta needs to scry, and how they'll have to rely on Elain if she doesn't - what Azriel says.

“There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

Sidebar - I've not seen anyone talk about how Cassian was absolutely in the right for defending Nesta. So I did. You can see my soap box here.

Now, back to the point. This is one example of how Az is constantly trying to protect Elain from, well, kinda everything. So, even if Elain did want to do all of those things, would Az even be okay with it? He obviously can't stop her from training or anything like that - and if he tries should she ever want to, he's dead to me. But, would he really share his life with her? Tell her about those 'unspeakable things that sullied his hands far beyond their scars'? I don't believe he would. I don't believe he could truly handle her working with him because, again, he has put her on this pedestal of beauty and grace and goodness (that she may not have). And the things he does are not good, at least not by his standards. He wouldn't be able to truly include her until he started to look at her as her own person again, which I also don't see happening. And, even then, he still wouldn't want to share with her all he'd done, believing her likely to judge those things, to be too pure to even hear about them. Regardless of whether that is true or not about Elain, it would hinder him from being able to have a true partner in her. When Azriel comes home at night, he would not tell her everything about his day.

Love Yourself, Az

This, I know for a fact, is not a new revelation. I have seen a lot about this, and have seen some posts that even helped me along with this as well, but I can't not address Az's shadows. I would link to the first post I saw about this but, admittedly, I can't find it. So, just know, I'm not the only one thinking this, and I recognize that some of this may come off as similar to others, but I couldn't not talk about this because it just feels so important.

Elain sucked in a soft breath that whispered over his skin. His shadows skittered back at the sound. They'd always been prone to vanish when she was around.

It wasn't until the Azriel POV chapter that I fully understood what lay behind the fact that Az's shadows would retreat around Elain, when we get a direct comparison to how they react to Gwyn's breath:

"How was the party?" Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music.

Before this, I didn't realize how bad a sign it is, for his shadows to retreat. I just thought they did that when he was around someone he was attracted to, almost as a sense that the other person lightened him up. But, with this comparison, and in general what we see from Az when around Elain, I see just how wrong I was. His shadows hiding isn't a sign of him lightening up - no, it's a sign of him retreating more into himself, trying to be something that he isn't around that person, in the hopes that they'll accept him if he is.

In the end, it's toxic.

He can't be who he truly is around Elain. That's not something that will lead to a healthy, happy relationship. He may have the girl he thinks he wants, but he won't have the relationship we all know he is desperate for. Whereas, around Gwyn, we see his shadows reach out to another person, jump out, dance with her breath, sing to her. He is able to fully embrace who he is around her. He will be able to be himself with her, love himself with her. And whether or not Gwyn is the right person to him, what this tells us is that Elain can't be that person. That she, like Mor, would be toxic to Az.

On top of that, I can't not point out the word usage here.

While I did observe this on my own, I am not the first to point it out - pagesofmoonlight talks about this in detail, about the usage of the term 'skittered' in regards to how the shadows retreat from Elain. It's not just a general hiding, or even a 'lightening' of Az, as I once thought. It's a gut reaction to her, her breath. They run from her. When I read that word, I literally picture a wave of something, and the shadows seeing it and running from it in fear.

Similarly, in comparison, with Gwyn's breath, the shadows 'darted' out to it. That, also, is not just a general they reached out to it for warmth or contact. Now, they darted - that is a very quick move, often done with a need or desire to get to where you're going as quickly as possible. The shadows needed or wanted to be with that breath, so they darted to it.

Like I said, this post isn't meant to be promoting one ship over Elain and Azriel. But what Gwyn provides here is a comparison, is a sign of what could and should be, whether with her or another person. Even if she isn't endgame, she shows us this problem between Elain and Azriel.

Home is Where You Shine

This entire post, which has become MASSIVE, has been very focused on Azriel, and why Elain is not right for him. But I want to touch on a reason why Az isn't right for Elain.

Azriel is a part of the Night Court. It is his home. It is where he belongs. He fits here, it is right for him. He can and does fine here. I don't think anyone can deny this. But Elain - she does not.

First, let's look at when Nesta is in the Spring Court.

Nesta’s throat constricted, and she surveyed the swaying cherry blossoms overhead. Elain would love this place. So many flowers, all in bloom, so much green—the light, vibrant green of new grass—so many birds singing and such warm, buttery sunshine. Nesta felt like a storm cloud standing amid it all. But Elain … The Spring Court had been made for someone like her.

I'm not saying Elain will end up in the Spring Court, but I do believe it is telling that Nesta would think about another court this way. We've not, to my recollection, really ever seen another character think about how well someone would fit in a different court. Feyre did, if I remember correctly, mention enjoying other courts at times, thinking they were beautiful, but never did she think about how right someone within her court would be in a different court. Because no one else in the Inner Circle would fit so well in another court. For whatever reason it is, everyone else is perfectly suited for the Night Court, and they can handle it.

It takes a lot to be a part of the Night Court. The masks they all wear, the reputation they have, the responsibilities that fall on their shoulders. It's not an insult or an attack on any character to say that they may not fit there, that they may be more in tune with the beauty of Spring, the warmth of Summer, the light of Day. And Elain, who is gentle and kind and not one to pretend to be what she isn't - likely because she's never felt the need to - I can understand how it would be hard.

Secondly, and I know it's a point of contention, and a well-discussed piece of Silver Flames, but I do want to talk about the Solstice Ball, and Cassian's observations.

Elain in black was ridiculous. Yes, she was beautiful, but the color of her long-sleeved, modest gown leeched the brightness from her face. It wore her, rather than the other way around. And he knew the cruelty of the Hewn City troubled her. But she hadn’t hesitated to come. When Feyre had offered to let her remain home, Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was a part of this court—and would do whatever was needed. So Elain had let her golden-brown hair down tonight, and pinned it back with twin combs of pearl. He’d never once in the two years he’d known her found Elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court … It sucked the life from her.

I will try not to go too far into the information about Elain in the black dress, as it's been discussed a lot from both sides, though I do think it is telling, because Cassian isn't just saying it's the one dress. It's very specific about how Elainin black was ridiculous, not that dress. It may seem shallow, but in the end, black is a crucial color in the Night Court, and that type of symbolism is often used to depict things just like this. It would not be the first time, and it certainly won't be the last that a writer uses color this way. However, I have seen a number of posts about this, on both sides, and I do understand both arguments, even if I disagree with one because I don't think it's meant to just be a skewed POV.

I would like to note, however, that the main argument I've seen is that there was once another time Elain was described in a dress that did little to complement her, but it's a very different description. That other time, it's mentioned specifically that the dress and color/shade of the dress did little to complement her 'sallow skin'. First of all, this is specifically discussing how the color didn't work with her skin, not how the color 'drained the life out of her'. Secondly, I would say it is very important to note that 'sallow' means "of a sickly, yellowish or lightish brown color". It is not discussing her skin as it typically is, but how it is when she was in the midst of her own depression after becoming High Fae. It's not that the dress didn't complement her, it's just that it didn't help make her skin look better than the sickly state it was currently in. Whereas, in this reflection, Elain is healthy, and still the black is draining her. Not the dress, not the shade - black. Point blank.

It's also important to recognize that this isn't meant to insult Elain, I believe it is a symbol of how she doesn't shine in the Night Court, how this court could potentially 'suck the life out of her'. Yes, it's just a dress. Yes, there's a chance they wanted her to look plain, but I don't believe that.

They were always going to have Nesta dance with Eris, and they all knew that, despite Elain's beauty, and no matter how lovely she looked, Eris would gravitate to Nesta. He'd already shown interest in her, he'd already become intrigued. He looked at Elain first, I believe, to get a look at his brother's mate. Because he wasn't looking at Elain with interest. No, it was an 'assessing gaze'. There was no reason to make Elain look plain. In fact, there was every reason to make sure she looked just as beautiful as Nesta. Think about what Cassian said just before this:

Both sisters wore black. Both walked behind Rhys and Feyre, a silent indicator that they were a part of the royal family. Had mighty powers of their own. They’d planned it that way, wanting Eris to see for himself how valuable Nesta was.

Why would they want her to look plain, considering this? They wanted Nesta and Elain to walk in the procession behind Feyre and Rhys, as a sign, a symbol. Yes, they wanted Eris to see and understand how valuable Nesta was, as it is said, but they didn't want Elain to look any less valuable. First, doing so would have made Nesta look less valuable by comparison. But, on top of that, I highly doubt they had any fears that Eris would prefer Elain - if they believed Eris about Lucien, then I think they'd believe that Eris wouldn't wish to take away his brother's mate. In fact, I imagine Eris would more likely help Lucien with Elain - but, that just be my Eris stan status coming out.

What is clear is that it was purposeful that they put both Nesta and Elain in black, as a symbol that they are a part of this family. My guess is that they found a dress for Elain that did her the most justice, and that she was comfortable wearing but, in the end, black just doesn't work on her. And is that fact not telling when that is the color of the family?

While this was in draft mode, I also found this post from yazthebookish, who goes deeper into this, and how it wasn't just Cassian who observed how ridiculous Nesta looked in black. So, for those who want to talk about how it is a skewed perspective, there were actually three that made this observation, and I absolutely agree that SJM wouldn't shove this in there solely to say that they purposefully tried to make sure Nesta outshone Elain. As they pointed out, Nesta is gorgeous in her own right. Cassian met her and Elain together, and he was instantly drawn to Nesta. As I mentioned earlier, Eris has been intrigued by her since long before this - see the High Lords meeting in ACOWAR. Helion would gladly get into her leathers, and while I'm aware that's not saying much, his focus on her is slightly higher than you see it on others he would also slide into bed with. She doesn't need Elain to dull herself down to shine.

I also think the one observation about how the black 'wore her' matters. It makes me wonder more about this court, both the general Night Court, and the people in the Inner Circle. Is the court wearing her? Is it sucking the life out of her? Is this why we don't see as much spine from Elain? We got some in this book, but it was all in an attempt to prove she belongs to this court. Something she feels the need to do, as we see in Cassian's reflection:

When Feyre had offered to let her remain home, Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was a part of this court—and would do whatever was needed.

…but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court … It sucked the life from her.

First of all, just quickly, I want to mention the ellipses before it says 'it sucked the life from her', and what came right before that. Is Cassian talking about the black? Or is he talking about being a part of this court? I don't have the answer, just food for thought.

I can't help but notice that Elain seems to feel the need to constantly prove, declare, and claim that she is part of this court. She has to push her way through, and while I know it's in part because so many people try to protect her, I think it's more than that. I believe Elain wants to be a part of the Night Court, but in the end it's not suited to her, and so she has to force her way in, when even Nesta, who everyone has been so displeased with, manages to fall in much easier. It's not because they don't like Elain, that's obvious. I believe it's because, in the end, they all see it.

It reminds me a lot of Tywin Lannister's quote from GoT (TV series, I won't read the books until George RR Martin finishes them):

Any man who must say, "I am the King", is no true king.

Could you not adjust this to: "Any person who must say, 'I am part of this court', is not truly part of this court."

I don't think Nesta has once said that. Feyre, maybe, but not in the same way as much as in letting certain people outside the court know. But, to have to say that within the court - it signifies that either you, yourself, don't believe yourself part of the court, or that maybe you aren't truly. Or that you are, but you recognize that maybe it's not the right fit, even if you really want it to be.

In the end, while I don't think Elain can't fit or find a nice life in the Night Court, the final point is that she doesn't shine in the Night Court. And that's not the same as saying she fully doesn't belong. But, shouldn't home be a place where you shine? Where you can be everything you are, and it is absolutely right? Isn't that what Nesta found in Silver Flames, in the House, with Cassian, and Gwyn, and Emerie,…and the House? She didn't have to be anything other than who she was, with any of them, and she still found a place that not only provided her comfort, but where she could truly shine. And she's found it in the Night Court, as well.

Elain hasn't. And maybe that's just because we haven't seen her story play out yet. I'm not so stuck up to believe there's no way I could be wrong. In fact, what bugs me the most about a lot of posts around these different beliefs is the use of 'when' instead of 'if', because no one wants to admit that, at this point in time, no matter what side you're on, it very much is an 'if'. None of us know what SJM has planned. All we can do is use the information we've been given to make as educated a guess as possible. This is mine, and SJM may prove me completely wrong, and that's okay. She may end up giving Elain a more similar arc to Nesta, and show how she develops and grows into someone who flourishes in the Night Court with Az by her side, and should she do that, I hope it's in a way I can understand and not something poorly developed and difficult to grasp.

A Mate is A Mate is A Mate

I won't talk too much about how she and Azriel aren't mates and how that automatically means they couldn't work. It could, in concept. I won't address the theories about her ending up with multiple mates. I do not agree with these theories, as they conflict with the canon we have. Until SJM puts out canon information that can explain a contradiction to what we've been given, any theory that truly contradicts the canon provided I will not consider, whether I like it or not. Multiple mates is not a thing. Being able to sever the mating bond so that someone can have a new mate is not a thing. I do recognize that females can reject the mating bond, and I am not saying whether or not I think Elain should or shouldn't do this with Lucien. Nor am I saying that having a story where someone does reject the mating bond to see how that plays out wouldn't be great.

I will point out, however, that it is often discussed as a thing females do. Females reject the mating bond. Males who have a female that rejected the mating bond grow incredibly uncomfortable, and they truly struggle.

...there will always be a ... tug. For the females, it is usually easier to ignore, but the males ... It can drive them mad.

I'm not going to include all the stuff about males thinking their mate belongs to them. Grow up, Prythian. Get with the program. But, considering this, considering the other pieces we get, I do not know if a male can be with another person, truly, in a loving relationship if he has a mate. Maybe one day, years and years and years after the rejection. Or maybe, if his mate doesn't fit his preferences - if that is a thing (and honestly, we don't yet know the status of same-sex mates, but if they are a thing - please let them be - then I have a harder time believing that those who have specific preferences would end up in a mating pair with the wrong gender).

I am not saying this to say that Elain and Lucien should be together. I am saying this because, considering all these things, right now, canon information essentially tells us that, should Az find his mate, he will go to her, need to be around her. Think about Cassian when Feyre asked why he bothers with Nesta:

Because I can't stay away.

Think about how Lucien couldn't help but try to find Elain, despite direct orders of being told not to. Or about how the second Rhys heard Feyre say 'no' in her mind to Tamlin, he was there to take her away. They just can't help it. The mating bond has a stronger pull on males.

And, maybe Az would be able to deny the bond. To reject it himself, who knows. But, based on everything we've been told, that would be incredibly difficult. And, considering how much he wants what his brothers have, would he want to?

Obviously, there is reason to believe Az does have a mate, and we've met her. And I know some people disagree with this. I would be interested to hear any theories about why he and Gwyn aren't mates, so long as they don't involve Elain. It's not that I have anything against her, it's just that those arguments don't actually point to Gwyn and Az not being mates, just that the person believes Elain and Az belong together regardless, which is not an argument for why they're not mates. But if there are any reasons or signs found in the books and canon information that distinctly point against Gwyn and Az being mates, then I'm open to hearing those points. And, as I mentioned, I do not entertain any canon-conflicting theories, such as the multiple mates one.

As it stands, though, I do think we have been directed toward the idea that Gwyn and Az are mates, and can believe that the mating bond will snap into place. Once it does, I have a hard time believing Az will actually be able to stay away. And that, even if Gwyn ends up rejecting that bond, I don't know that he'll be able to be with Elain after it, knowing Elain isn't his first choice.

Final Thoughts

Like I said earlier, I'm not against Elain rejecting the mating bond, or anyone doing so. I will say this, though - how much more powerful would it be to have someone reject the mating bond not because they wish to be with someone else, but just because they do not wish to be with that person? Is it not more empowering to see a female (or male, if they can do it) choose to be single, and live their life as they are solely because they just do not wish to be with that person? Instead of it being more of an, 'well, it's just, I'd rather be with him'. Sadly, I do not think Elain is set up to be that person. Gwyn could, potentially, be, though I'll admit I don't believe it, considering the attention Gwyn pays to him. But I do think it's worth noting that, in my opinion, the mating bond can be rejected even if there is not another male in the picture.

However, despite all the questions and uncertainties, until we get answers, this is my personal view, based on what I've seen in the books, and how I've interpreted it. I personally feel that, regardless of who I hope ends up with whom, SJM has placed a number of clues and hints to show that Elain and Azriel aren't meant to be together, that they wouldn't be right together. And that, if they were to be together, the relationship would likely be unhealthy, and potentially toxic.

---------------------

This post is also not meant to insult or attack Elain in any way, nor Azriel. Nor am I trying to insult or attack those who ship them together. We are all welcome to our own opinions. I promise to respect yours, please respect mine.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #sarah j mass #azriel #elain archeron #nesta archeron #cassian #feyre archeron #rhysand #gwyn berdara #lucien #gwynriel #elucien #anti elriel

187 notes · View notes

triviajeongin · 3 years

Text

hands; izuku midoriya ¹

ship: izuku x reader

word count: 1.4K

genre: ♡☾☹

content: college, no quirk au all characters aged up, smut , fluff, angst (maybe)

content warnings: smut , body issues, anxiety, depression, nsfw content

notes: probably won’t be that long, pls give me suggestions & i opinions I would love them :D

summary: midoriya had always know people would stare at his hands that were filled with scars and not the prettiest but he didn’t pay it any mind. until he met you, praising his hands and the person they’re attached to. he realizes maybe he isn’t always strong and it’s okay he has you to make him feel like he put the starts in the sky.

it was the beginning of the second year at ua. you had transferred 3 months ago. it was easy to adapt to the new school and everyone was friendly.

however it was starting to get closer and closer to a very dreaded time, midterms. looking at your schedule, you could see all the study sessions scheduled. you could already feel all your brain cells screaming for help.

right now, you were busy going over chemistry with kirishima. to be honest, you sucked at chem. all the math made it even more difficult.

he was a little better at it than you. but you we're waiting for the rest of your friends to get here.

mina & bakugo were both the best at this class. they both had interest in learning about it for some reason.

after a while everyone had arrived and you all started to chatter.

"ugh i'm over this. I should just drop out already."

with a snicker bakugo said, " yeah sure and what are you gonna do be a stripper?"

"wow your so smart, that's a great idea. i'd be making bank."

"i swear your a fucking idiot."

with a shrug you reply, " yeah but at least i'm a hot idiot.

"anyways, can we talk about something else."

with a glint in her eye, mina asked "so y/n, anyone catch your eye yet?"

"hmn, maybe, maybe not."

"y/n, come on you've been here for months and not once have you told us you liked someone."

"i haven't even been paying attention to the guys here. i've been trying to get used to school here."

"well i hope you find someone interesting."

you just nod, and like that the conversation ends and the studying continues.

after the studying session, you decided to go to the cafeteria to buy some food before going back to your dorm to sleep.

you got your water and ramen, then sat down and began eating. as much as you loved your friends you also liked being alone. it was nice and peaceful.

you didn’t really like opening up to people, preferring to be left alone. of course you wanted to have friends , most people do. but there just times when being alone is also good.

you were drinking water when out of no where you head a voice say, "can i sit here ?"

to say you were scared was an understatement. you jumped at the noise and started choking on your water. you barley managed to swallow it when you started coughing uncontrollably.

honestly, you shouldn’t even have flinched at the noise, considering who you hang out with. but your we’re doing deep in your own thoughts you didn’t even notice anyone around you.

"oh my god. i-i'm so sorry here let me help."

the stranger gave you a napkin, and was patting your back trying to help.

through your teary eyes you could see the persons hand. it was covered in scars.

when people asked one another what they noticed first in a person. the replies are usually, eyes, face, body. your answer was hands.

you liked them. you had no idea why but you did. you probably had a hand kink. you knew it was something people were insecure about.

as soon as you had calmed down, you looked at the stranger who almost gave you a heart attack.

it was a boy, with curly green hair and matching green eyes. he had cute freckles as well. he gave off a very innocent facade.

when you got a look at his body, it didn't match his face. he was muscular but still lean. you looked at his arms and hands. they were covered in scars.

with a cough you said, "y-you made me choke."

"i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to, i-it was an accident—"

"look all I'm saying is if you were gonna make me choke, you should've used those gorgeous hands."

"what the fuck."

with a laugh you add, "sorry i just think your hands look super cool, it was a joke i'm—"

"is that how you talk to everyone you meet?"

"no, not usually."

there was a moment of awkward silence, before you began talking again.

"anyways i'm leaving so you can sit, it was nice to see you. goodbye. "

with that you grab your things, throw out the trash and head back to your dorm.

as your body hits the pillow, you look at the ceiling, remembering the guy you met tonight.

with a yawn you say to yourself "hmm i hope i see him again." and with that you immerse your self in sleep, till your alarm wakes you to begin another day.

wednesday. your favorite day of the week. you only had one lecture today and it was a class you did well in naturally so there would be no issues.

usually when you walked in, you just sat at the front of the class. you didn't even pay attention to the other people in your class.

keeping mina's words in your head, this time you looked up at your classmates. you look through the rows, not noticing anyone familiar.

until you looked next to the window, seeing the same guy from the cafeteria. i mean this must be a sign, so you quickly ascend the rows until you reach the seats near the window.

"excuse me, can i sit here."

"oh um yeah sure."

you sat down, getting out your notebook for the class lecture. looking over at the boy he was doing the same thing.

soon enough, the professor arrived and started going over the lesson. you tried to listen to what he was saying and write them down.

but all you could see was this guys hands. he twirled the pencil between his fingers when he wasn't writing, a nervous habit you assumed.

he had long fingers, bit skinny but not super thick either right in between. you didn't want to dwell on the length of his fingers or you'd be getting other ideas.

you decided to just snap out of it and finish the class. not that you didn't sneak a glance or two his way.

you didn't even realize the class was over until he closed his notebook and began putting his things away.

you started doing the same. "thanks for letting me sit here, hands."

with a slow nod he replied, "o-oh yeah no problem." not really registering the nickname you used.

you began going down the stairs, with a smile on your face. you could tell the boy was right behind you.

you we're about a foot from the door when you heard, " um you know i have a name right."

you giggled lightly before turning to face him. "sure, but i don't know it."

"well since you left yesterday, i wasn't able to introduce myself. i also felt bad about making you choke. i would never guess you scare so easily"

"yeah, i understand. it's okay it's not like it's a big deal , it was an accident."

"anyways my name is y/n, it's nice to meet you."

"oh likewise, my name is iz—"

you were interrupted by the classroom door slamming open. you both turned to see bakugo, looking pretty unhappy.

"oi, you idiot i've been waiting for you for a while. what's taking so damn long, i'm fucking hungry. i was about to leave your stupid ass behind."

"sorry, i was just talking to—"

grabbing your hand and dragging you away he started yelling, " i don't care what extra your talking to, we're leaving now."

and just like that you never got to hear the boys name. stupid bakugo, you thought.

at least he was paying for your dinner. you both were the only ones who liked spicy food so you went to eat every wednesday, it was a tradition you both put in place.

not only did you not hear his name, you also missed the slight frown on his face as he saw bakugo drag you away.

he couldn't even tell why he felt upset you had been dragged away. he just hoped he got to see you again, even if you made him feel a little shy.

touching his hand, he recalled your words. after everything he had been through he didn't voice it but he could always feel the uncomfortable stares of others of his messed up and scarred hands.

he liked that you didn't look at him with disgust or pity. you were like a breath of fresh air. made him want to show off his hands, that he had been trying so hard to hide without realizing.

#izuku fluff #izuku mydoria #bnha izuku #mha izuku #izuku x you #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #izuku midoriya x reader #deku #deku x reader #deku x you #mha #mha deku #mha x reader #midoriya #bnha fanfiction #bnha midoriya

79 notes · View notes

thehangeddemon · 3 years

Text

Waiting for a Tuesday || Self Para || September 14, 2021

☠ WARNING ☠

This work contains graphic descriptions of violence, gore, and torture

Reader discretion is advised

“More tea, sir?”

Xavier glanced up from his newspaper and gave the waiter a pleasant smile. He shook his head. “I’m fine, John, thank you. You can bring me the check as soon as y—”

“Actually, John. Why don’t you go ahead and bring us another pot of tea? Anything but English breakfast,” he added with a chuckle that almost sounded condescending. “I don’t share my son’s fondness for it.”

The waiter watched as a man, who had seemed to appear out of nowhere and was dressed head to toe in black, invited himself to sit opposite Mr. Rossmara. He’d said ‘son’, but he didn’t really look old enough to have a son Mr. Rossmara’s age. He didn’t really resemble him either but that seemed less strange somehow.

What was strange was the way Mr. Rossmara was looking at the man across from him. He looked…stunned, like he’d seen a ghost or something. But beneath the surprise was an indiscernible emotion on Mr. Rossmara’s face that John thought looked just a little like fear.

At the stranger’s expectant look, John collected himself and cleared his throat, addressing Mr. Rossmara. “…Sir…?”

Xavier seemed to collect himself as well, though far more subtly. He folded up his newspaper and put the pleasant smile back on his face, determined to make it seem like nothing was wrong. Only someone who looked very closely would see how forced the smile was, or how measured his movements were.

“Yes, of course. Does earl grey meet with your approval?”

The man smiled like the proverbial cat who ate the canary. “It does.”

“Very well. A pot of earl grey then, John.”

The waiter nodded. “Right away, sir.”

Xavier waited until John was well out of earshot before he spoke again. “Hello, Father. I didn’t expect you.”

Zagan let out another of those condescending laughs that set Xavier’s teeth on edge and dragged him right back to all his memories of Hell. “No, I’m quite certain you did not.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“My dear boy, it was hardly a mystery worthy of Sherlock Holmes. For as long as you’ve had your shipping business, you’ve come to San Francisco every Tuesday without fail to check in. And without fail, you finish your work just before teatime. By your own admission, this hotel has the best afternoon tea in the city. All I had to do was remember the name of the hotel and wait for a Tuesday.”

Zagan helped himself to one of the cucumber sandwiches that remained on the tray. “You’ve become predictable in your old age, my boy.”

Xavier had to fight to keep from shifting in his seat. Not any-bloody-more. He’d be changing that particular habit immediately. It didn’t suit him at all for someone outside his household to have such intimate knowledge of his movements, especially if that someone was his father. Such information was dangerous in the hands of a man like Zagan. It didn’t matter if it was only the day and location of a standing reservation for tea and cake, Xavier knew from experience that the less his father knew, the better.

Which was largely why he didn’t take any great pains to see him. Unless, of course, he was forced to.

“I see,” Xavier said, settling for an amused smile since a laugh was impossible. “I suppose I am becoming a bit predictable. Anyhow, it’s nice to see you, Father. Have you been well?”

“Well enough.” Zagan was watching him carefully, studying every nuance in his expression, listening to the tone and inflection of every word. Becoming familiar with anything that had changed since the last time he’d seen his demonic progeny.

Thankfully Xavier didn’t have to endure it for very long. John soon returned with their tea, giving him a reprieve from paternal scrutiny as it was poured. It was the only thing that would for the next little while.

This time it was Zagan who waited until they were alone again before he spoke. “So. Tell me. How is that shipping business of yours doing? And your myriad other ventures?”

The next hour or so was spent in what one could call easy conversation. They spoke of Xavier’s businesses, the sights he’d seen, the things he’d collected, the weather, the state of the world. Perfectly light, perfectly casual. At least from an outsider’s perspective.

From Xavier’s point of view things were far more fraught. Everything he said had to be carefully weighed, and there was a desperately thin line between revealing too much and appearing withholding, between looking at ease and projecting discomfort.

Having a conversation with his father hadn’t always been this difficult. In fact, just a few years ago Xavier would have been—and had been—completely comfortable not only talking to Zagan but spending entire days in his company. He’d even sought him out once or twice. But then, Xavier had had far less to lose a few years ago. He hadn’t had a child, a fiancé, staff that depended on him, friends he cared for.

He had all those things now. He had more than he’d allowed himself to have in fifty years, and the memory of how things had gone then still lived all too vividly in his mind.

Getting back to a point of comfort with Zagan after that hadn’t been easy, but he’d done it. There hadn’t been a choice. It was either swallow his pain, grief, and desire for vengeance and make nice, or tempt his father into carrying out his threats.

Sitting here now, Xavier felt much the same as he had then; trapped, resentful, and desperate to get away.

He had no illusions of being able to do that any time soon, however, even when his father finally asked for the check. After such a long absence, Zagan was sure to take up as much of his time as possible.

His suspicions were confirmed almost immediately.

“Come,” said Zagan, getting to his feet. “Let’s take a walk.”

Xavier remained at the table while his father stepped outside, indulging himself with a long, weary sigh the moment it felt safe to do so. It had only been an hour and he was ready for another five-year interlude in their relationship.

What had brought Zagan up from Hell anyway? Surely this visit hadn’t only been for tea and a walk with him. His father hated humans, hated looking at them and being amongst them. There had to be another reason and no doubt it was something Xavier really didn’t want the know the details of.

“Probably scouting his next project child,” Xavier muttered to himself as he pulled his card from his wallet.

Bill settled, he stepped out into the late summer evening and breathed deeply. There was a chill in the air that said autumn was well and truly on its way. Soon the days would grow shorter and the nights longer. His collection of coats would emerge from storage. Every hearth in the manor would roar to life with cheerful, welcoming fires.

He sighed again, longing for the comfort of home as he looked for Zagan among the crowd of people in front of the hotel. That expression of disdain was easy to spot.

“Where shall we go?” Xavier asked, approaching him.

“I don’t know how you can stand it.” His father’s tone all but dripped disgust. “Being here day in and day out among these…creatures and the stench of their cities. It’s revolting.”

“I’d rather smog than brimstone.”

“I think I prefer brimstone.”

Right. That nipped the notion of walking on the street squarely in the bud. If only that were enough to dissuade his father, but alas.

Fortunately, there was a park nearby.

Zagan didn’t say a single word as they made their way there, clearly preferring to stew in his distaste until they were well clear of anyone who might catch a snippet of their conversation. Of course, he hadn’t been nearly so averse to it back at the hotel.

Xavier would just chalk that up to the difference between a well-appointed dining room and a crowded street.

His father’s demeanor seemed marginally more pleasant as they entered the park. It wouldn’t be empty for a good while yet, but it was an improvement from the street. Hopefully it wouldn’t be enough of one to tempt him to stay much longer.

A few long minutes of not-quite-companionable silence passed before Zagan saw fit to fall into conversation again. The additional privacy meant they could discuss things that were far more relevant to his father’s interests than the weather or the goings on at a shipping company. Namely, any magic Xavier had learned, magical artifacts Xavier had acquired, and any kills Xavier had made.

The latter would perhaps prove to be a bit of a disappointment. Not only did Xavier kill less frequently these days, his choice of quarry had changed. The people that he’d once hunted were those he found interesting or amusing or intriguingly intelligent; only on the very rare occasion did he hunt someone who truly deserved it.

That was no longer the case. Lately when Xavier hunted it was only people who truly deserved it. He went for rapists and abusers. He went for people who hurt children, including and especially priests. There was immense satisfaction in knowing exactly where those people were going and what awaited them when they arrived, and even more in describing it in vivid, excruciating detail as they bled to death among the debris of a forest floor.

Hell was a far greater torment than anything he could visit upon them, and he was more than happy to send them on their way.

Zagan let out a loud, derisive laugh at that. “Are you indeed?” The old demon laughed again, putting Xavier’s back up and setting his teeth on edge. “My dear boy, you have been away from Hell too long. Who would’ve imagined? My son, the divine hand of justice for ne’er-do-well priests the world over. Never mind predictable; you’ve grown positively moral in your old age.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Xavier said softly, fighting to unclench his jaw.

His father gave him an amused look. “No?”

He shook his head. “No. I’ve merely…unearthed an intolerance I didn’t give sufficient regard to before.”

“Have you? Well.” Zagan chuckled and adjusted his sleeve, looking positively chuffed in a way that both infuriated and unsettled. “You never did like priests. Who would, having had your childhood? I suppose that particular aspect of your personality was bound to rear its head again eventually. Perhaps…it’s entirely appropriate that it should do so now.”

Xavier didn’t register the movement until it was too late. He only had a moment to feel his father grabbing his arm before he was whisked through the familiar vacuum of demonic travel, and even less to register his new surroundings before he was thrown bodily against something cold and unyielding.

“You unearthed an intolerance, did you?” Zagan’s voice, so casual and amused just seconds ago, now quivered with rage.

Xavier went flying again, this time into something that splintered beneath the force of his weight. Wood?

“And when exactly did you do that, Xavier? Was it perhaps around the time that you became a father?”

Again, back into the unyielding cold. Stone. “Father, plea—”

“Not that I can even tell, since I’ve scarcely seen the child—my grandchild—more than twice since the day he was born!”

Xavier cried out as he was flung for a fourth time, several bones breaking upon landing forcefully on a stone floor. There was something soft beneath him, but whatever it was, it hadn’t been enough to cushion his fall.

He braced for another hit, relieved when none came. He could still hear the echo of his father’s furious footsteps, however, which meant the torment wasn’t over. Far from it. The pleasant Zagan of earlier was gone, and who had remained in his place was someone Xavier was very, very familiar with.

Familiar enough to know that he had only a few precious seconds to catch his breath and orient himself.

There wasn’t much he could see from this position apart from the ceiling of whatever edifice they were in but, not wanting to draw attention to himself too soon—or move lest he worsen his breaks—he observed what he could by turning his head.

Said ceiling, high and crisscrossed with thick wooden beams, appeared to be constructed of the same stone as the walls and floor. Dusty chandeliers covered in thick cobwebs were hung every few feet, the candles in them long unlit. The same went for the metal sconces on the walls.

He appeared to be lying in the middle of an aisle bordered on either side by what he could only assume was the wooden something he’d been thrown int—

No. Not just wood. Pews.

Xavier struggled into a sitting position, heedless of his broken bones and desire for inconspicuousness in his rush to confirm his suspicions, to confirm what he already knew.

Panic rose in his chest as he saw the cross silhouetted in stark relief against the waning sunlight streaming in through the stained-glass window.

They were in a church.

Had this been any other time on any other day Zagan wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to mock and use his son’s fear against him. Xavier’s childhood memories of being harrowed and abused by his stepmother and local priest amused him to no end but on this day, he didn’t so much as comment.

He just stalked down the aisle toward Xavier and slammed him back against the floor with a flick of his hand.

“After all,” he said, voice dangerously soft as he crouched beside his son. “I can hardly drop by for a visit now, can I? Not with all those wards you have on the estate that threaten to annihilate anyone who comes in unannounced.” He almost smiled. “You’ve amassed quite the bag of tricks over the last fifty years.”

Xavier could only shake his head. “The wards aren’t—”

“Aren’t what? Aren’t meant to keep me out?” Zagan scoffed, giving Xavier a dubious look as he grabbed a handful of his hair from the back of his head and stood. “Dear boy, do you really expect me to believe that?”

He gave Xavier’s hair a good hard yank, ignoring his son’s cries of pain as he dragged him down the aisle and deposited him on the small set of stairs leading to the altar. “You didn’t ward against me fifty years ago only because you didn’t know how to. If you had, you would’ve done it in a trice to help keep that pathetic little slave of yours out of my grasp, but I’m sure that’s already occurred to you.”

Indignation fought its way in beside pain and panic, and Zagan noticed. His son’s emotions had always been pitifully easy to read, moreso when they ran as profoundly as he knew this did. The servant was still a sore spot even after all this time.

Zagan paused.

“Had you realized?” he asked, crouching again to run a single finger down Xavier’s cheek, those ancient eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. “That this year marks the fiftieth anniversary? Had you realized, my beautiful boy, that half a century had passed since you came so close to defying me?”

Fifty years of pain and rage and grief so rarely expressed churned in Xavier’s gut and pulled at his soul. That his father could speak so cavalierly of Maximus and his loss made him want to scream and be ill in equal measure.

Had he realized? How could he not, when every day for the past year and a half had been a battle against remembering? How could he not, when every day he walked halls and sat in rooms identical to those Maximus had once drawn breath in, only to remember that they had burnt to the ground?

How could he not, when dead leaves and rose petals and ash were still enough to bring him to tears?

The same tears that streamed down his face now. Xavier was powerless to stop them and even if he could have, he likely wouldn’t have. After what he’d done to Maximus, an acknowledgement of his grief was the least Xavier could give him, even if his father was the only one who witnessed it.

“Oh my, look at that.” Zagan stroked his son’s face again, collecting those tears and rubbing the moisture between his fingers. He tsked, shaking his head. “My dear, it’s been an absolute age since then. How can a measly little servant still cause all this upset, hm? There now.”

Zagan slipped one arm under Xavier’s knees and the other behind his back, lifting and carrying him the rest of the way up the steps as if he weighed absolutely nothing. He gathered Xavier close, even took care not to jostle him too much.

Such loving gestures were not uncommon for the old demon. There were times in Hell when he had been the absolute image of gentleness and paternal affection, when he had held him as he did now and given him a reprieve from the torture.

But more torture had always followed. Showing him affection was rarely meant to comfort; it was meant to torment.

“I’m sure you feel like the past few decades have been a trial, but you see, I don’t think that’s entirely accurate.” Zagan set Xavier down as carefully as he’d picked him up, petting his hair as that indignant look returned to his son’s expression. “Don’t misunderstand me. I don’t doubt you’ve suffered a great deal over your servant. I don’t see why you would when they’re so readily available, but I don’t doubt it. I just think you haven’t quite…put things in perspective.”

With of wave of his father’s hand, every sconce, chandelier, and candelabra flickered to life, allowing Xavier his first real look at the derelict church. Not that there was much to see. No one had set foot in here for a very long time, let alone used it as a place of worship.

But when he turned his head, Xavier saw something that made his blood run cold.

Until now he’d felt trepidation, resentment, emotional anguish. Only when he saw the lines of a demon trap scorched into the threadbare carpet beneath him did he finally feel fear.

“Father…?”

“You see, my dear, I don’t think you realize how easy you got off all those years ago.” Zagan shed his coat and rolled up his sleeves.

“Father, please—”

Zagan knelt beside him. “My own son considers rebelling against me, disobeying me, gives a servant pride of place over his father, and what does he have to pay for it? Absolutely nothing.” He unbuttoned Xavier’s suit jacket and shirt, undid his trousers. “My son defies his father and still he gets to keep his estate, his businesses, his treasures. His life. All these things my son gets to keep, he goes virtually without punishment for fifty years, and does he realize that? Does it occur to him how generous his father has been in his infinite mercy? No. Rather than show gratitude, he has the childish audacity to believe he is the aggrieved party!”

Xavier didn’t see Zagan move. There was just an awful squelching sound, then searing pain as his father, having pierced his torso with a bare hand, sliced it upward and gutted him like a fish from groin to sternum.

“Which doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed your efforts,” Zagan said calmly above the echoing din of his son’s screams. Casually. “You’ve been such a good boy, treating your papa to afternoon tea and accompanying him for a walk. But I have been far too lax with you. You see that, don’t you?”

He gripped the jagged edges of Xavier’s wound and forced them apart to another chorus of screams. “All those wards, the prolonged absence.” Zagan shook his head. “There comes a point where it all gets to be a bit too much. What’s that expression? Getting too big for your britches? I think you’ll agree you got too big for yours a very long time ago. What’s more, I think you’ll agree that it’s high time that you paid the piper.”

Zagan got to his feet and made his way over to the wooden table beneath the stained-glass window at the head of the altar. He retrieved a hammer, a covered metal bowl, and a set of railroad spikes and brought them over to the demon trap, kneeling again.

Xavier could only watch him, borderline delirious as his chest heaved and his wounds bled. He didn’t dare lift his head to look at the damage; he’d seen enough of his own insides in Hell.

There was a vague hope that his blood would break the demon trap and allow him to get away, but he knew it was impossible even as he thought it. Zagan had prepared for this.

There was no getting away, especially once the first spike was hammered through one of his feet, piercing shoe leather, flesh, and carpet as it was driven into the stone beneath. Xavier bit back another scream, only to give in as his father pinned his arm above his head and drove the second spike into his hand.

“A necessary precaution,” Zagan explained, moving around to repeat the process on Xavier’s other side, barely reacting to the scent of demonic flesh charred by iron. “To make things easier for both of us. Remember what I always used to tell you?”

The third and fourth spikes were driven into Xavier’s free hand and foot, rendering him not quite immobile, but significantly limiting his range of motion. He was left completely vulnerable to Zagan.

“Well?”

He turned toward his father. The demon was looking at him expectantly, warmly—a complete contrast to that cold smile on his face that never quite reached his eyes.

“The more you struggle,” Xavier began, breathing raggedly, “the more it will hurt.”

“That’s exactly right. Good boy.” Zagan bent to kiss his brow and set the hammer aside. “Now be a love and stay still for your papa while he works.”

“What are you going to do?” Asked in a voice too soft and timid to belong to a demon.

“I thought you might ask. You see, I needed to come up with an appropriate punishment.” Zagan reached into his abdominal cavity and tore out a chunk of his liver, placing it on the carpet beside him while his son howled in agony. The shock and blood loss weren’t enough to kill him, of course, but there would be a great deal of both before Zagan was done.

“It had to fit the crime, else how could the lesson be truly felt?” His stomach joined his liver, spilling its bloody contents as it hit the floor with a sickening plop.

Xavier hadn’t felt pain like this since Hell. He wondered for a moment if he was in Hell. That endless red sky and the ceiling of the church blurred together in his mind while the stone under his back became the rocky banks of that boiling river of blood. He heard a scream—or perhaps a thousand—but no longer registered it as his own.

When his father spoke, he heard it as only an echo.

“I mentioned taking your estate and your belongings but upon reflection, that wouldn’t be a practical solution to the problem. You could always acquire more, and really, what do I want with a bunch of wine and trinkets and land?” The other half of his liver followed, then his spleen and pancreas, all added to the growing pile of viscera.

Zagan turned to Xavier, whose screams had quieted to pained whimpers as he began coughing up torrents of blood. “No matter how you look at it, it would only be an inconvenience to us both. An inconvenience, not a punishment. That was when I realized that there was something I could take from you that would serve as an appropriate punishment.”

The old demon reached into Xavier’s body with both hands this time, ripping through sheet after sheet of connective tissue as he worked to tear out Xavier’s intestines. Messy work but very necessary, although he did find himself wishing he’d brought a blade to speed up the process. But that’s what happened when one was forced to move with haste; things were bound to be forgotten.

To Xavier, that process seemed to take hours. Perhaps it did. He couldn’t help but think it would’ve been kinder to just kill him.

His only comfort was that the shock setting in made his body go almost numb, a small mercy for which he gave profound thanks. It was liable to be the only one he got. He only wished he could go deaf as well, or better yet, fall into blessed unconsciousness so he wouldn’t have to listen to or feel the rending of his flesh.

More hopes he knew would be dashed.

Such was Zagan’s concentration on his task that he fell silent. Humans did have such a lot of parts, but he had gotten most of it. It would do.

He gathered the slippery mass in his hands, considering adding them to the pile before deciding to simply drop them on his son’s lap. They didn’t need to be removed entirely, just moved out of the way.

“Right,” he sighed, looking around at his handiwork while he gathered his thoughts. “Where was I? Ah, yes. Your punishment.”

Zagan scooted a bit closer and tenderly took Xavier’s face in his hands, smiling beatifically as he stroked his son’s cheeks and smeared that handsome face with blood. “I believe you’ve lived in poor dead Christian for quite long enough, my precious one. Don’t you?”

For the second time since this ordeal began, panic took hold of Xavier. Not just a trickle of it, but huge, violent waves that made his adrenaline surge and had him struggling against his restraints despite the burning pain of the iron.

Please, God, let him not have heard correctly. Surely it was the delirium, the blood loss making him think his father had said what Xavier thought he’d just said. Or if had said it, perhaps Xavier just didn’t understand his meaning. It could mean anything, everything. Too much. Was it to be his life, a return to Hell? Was it—

“Settle down, Xavier,” Zagan chided, placing his hands on his son’s shoulders. “What did we say, hm? The more you struggle the more it will hurt, and this is going to hurt quite enough without you thrashing about like a landed fish. Settle.”

“Wh-what is?” Xavier’s voice was a raspy, choked sound, devoid of its usual elegance. For all that he struggled—or tried to, before pain and fatigue forced him to stillness—it was a battle to get out every single word. “Fath…father. What are y-you going…?”

“What am I going to do?”

At his son’s jerky nod, Zagan smiled and stroked his face again. “Just what I said. You’ve been living in Christian Deidrich’s body for far too long and it’s time for a change.”

“But w-what—”

“I’m going to take you out of Christian, Xavier. You will be removed from this vessel and placed into a new one.”

Xavier looked at this father in abject horror for a few silent, eternal moments before panic and adrenaline flooded back in with a vengeance.

He began to struggle to free himself in earnest as his father’s words and their full implications sank in. Whatever he’d suffered so far—gut-wrenching reminders of the past, the sear of iron, the removal of his organs—it would be nothing compared to what he knew awaited him now.

At this very moment, even the full weight of what it meant to lose Christian as his vessel couldn’t hold a candle to Xavier’s fear.

This reaction pleased Zagan immensely, and unlike before, he was perfectly happy to let Xavier wear himself out. In this weakened state it was all he’d manage to do, which would only make things easier once the real work began.

Besides, even if by some chance Xavier did tear the wounds around the spikes and freed himself, he was still inside the trap. He wasn’t going anywhere.

Zagan hummed to himself, giving his son’s cheek one last pat before getting to his feet.

One by one, he brought candelabras over to the altar. Not many remained after so many years of the church having been abandoned, but they were enough to give him the light he needed. The larger ones were placed around the perimeter of the trap and the smallest just inside. A single candlestick was placed beside Xavier.

Had he been able to, Xavier would’ve knocked that stupid candle over and set fire to the rug. Something his father probably would’ve considered if he wasn’t so obviously confident that it wouldn’t happen.

Xavier couldn’t deny that he was right to be. Already he was exhausted to the point of giving up. Physically, at least.

“Father…” he wheezed. “Plea…please…don’t—don’t do this to me…”

“Ahhh, I see we’ve moved from anger to bargaining,” Zagan chuckled, returning to his son’s side. “I understand, of course. A new face will be an adjustment after so many decades spent looking at the same reflection in the mirror, but don’t worry, my dear one. You’ll get used it.”

Xavier shook his head, swallowing back more tears. He didn’t want to get used to it. He wanted to remain in his body. No matter how mangled it was, it was his, and leaving it would mean suffering beyond measure in more ways than one.

“The spell…”

His father nodded patiently. “Yes, yes, I know. You locked yourself in. An excellent notion, truly. After all, one can never know who does and does not know an exorcism rite. No doubt it would have spoiled your fun if in the middle of a hunt, your quarry dispatched you back to Hell.”

Zagan stroked his hair again. “Pity that your good judgement should have to hurt you now.”

Tears began to flow freely again as Xavier tugged at his restraints with all the might he had left. It was precious little. “Fat-ther, please…please d-don’t…please…”

“Hush now. Begging won’t save you, Xavier.” Zagan picked up the bowl that until now had sat untouched beside the revolting mess of entrails. “As I’m sure you’ve gathered from the very fact that you’re able to be here, the church we are currently in is no longer consecrated ground. Faith left this place…” he shrugged, “a century ago, perhaps more. But despite that, there is one thing I’m so terribly curious to know.”

He removed the lid. “I wonder…despite the decades of absent devotion…if this water is still holy enough to hurt you.”

“N-nononono wait, don’t—!”

An awful steaming hiss drowned out his protests as Zagan slowly began pouring the bowl’s contents into Xavier’s abdominal cavity.

“You’re making it worse,” he said, raising his voice to make himself heard over the cacophony of tortured screams and howls of demonic pain.

His admonishment fell on deaf ears. The moment the first drop of holy water had touched his mutilated insides, Xavier had begun thrashing about in a desperate, mindless effort to escape from the torment.

Exhaustion had no hope of stilling his movements, even if those movements caused the water to splash and slosh about and cause even more pain. This was beyond the physical, beyond the human. Short of an exorcism this was the greatest suffering that could be inflicted on a demon, and Xavier had the great misfortune of knowing that was precisely what awaited him next.

He screamed, he sobbed, he begged his father to stop. At some point he even succeeded in tearing free of two of the spikes. But still the ordeal continued and would until the bowl was empty.

It would continue even when the bowl was empty, because for all that Xavier had moved about, a good deal of holy water remained on and inside of him. As long as it did, nothing would stop the screaming.

“Shhhh, darling, shhhh,” Zagan cooed at his son, pulling out the spikes that still restrained Xavier’s limbs so he could turn him on his side and empty out the water. It had completed its intended purpose and was thus no longer required.

He eased Xavier onto his back again and picked up the candlestick. “Right. I would very much like to say that’s the worst of it over, but we both know that’s not the case. Tell me, should I bother asking where you carved it?”

Although agonized groans and broken sobs had replaced blood-curdling screams, Xavier wasn’t in any condition to listen to his father, much less respond.

“I thought not. No matter. I have a fair idea which rite you used, and I believe that particular one calls for the inscription to be placed on the spine.”

At last, the true reason for the evisceration revealed.

Zagan brought the candle close to the gaping void that was Xavier’s torso, using its light to find exactly where the spell had been carved into the bone—a slightly easier task now that the holy water had rinsed out most of the blood.

“Ah, there it is.” Zagan tried to make out the symbols to confirm his suspicions. “What did I tell you?” he chuckled, setting aside the candlestick. “Predictable.”

Xavier had been left even weaker than before. His chest barely rose. His skin, already pale from loss of blood, looked gray and lifeless. There wasn’t a part of him that wasn’t burning in agony. The dread and fear and grief he should have felt eighty-six years ago when the hangman’s noose had been placed around his neck fell upon him now, far more heavily than they would have then.

Still, he had to try just one more time.

With what little strength he had left, Xavier turned to his father. “Please,” he begged, the barely audible whisper ragged and frail. “Father. Please…please don-n’t. You don’t—don’t kn-now…” he gasped for breath, “…what you—you’re take…tak-king…”

There was a beat of silence during which Xavier thought, just for a second, his father looked apologetic.

“But I do,” Zagan murmured, taking Xavier’s bloody, tear-stained face in his hands. He stayed like that for several moments, studying his child’s features one last time. He loved this face. It gave him no pleasure to destroy it. “I know exactly what I’m taking. My beautiful, beautiful boy.”

He bent to place a tender kiss on Xavier’s forehead. “Don’t fret. The pain won’t last. You’ll still be beautiful, I promise. I could never take that from you. You’ll even look like your brother.” He kissed Xavier’s forehead again, his brow, his cheeks, allowing them both the indulgence of true affection for just a moment.

Perhaps it would offer some comfort in the days to come.

Sighing, Zagan took the candlestick again and made another examination of the spell his son had used to lock himself in. It was simple, but perfectly effective against exorcisms and other such attempts to dislodge a demon from their vessel.

The symbols themselves were spread across four vertebrae and, upon closer inspection, appeared to be burned into the bone rather than inscribed. He had no doubt the process had been rather painful; things like this always were.

He reached in and carefully tore the first vertebra from Xavier’s spine, ensuring he removed only bone and nothing else.

Painful, yes, but not as painful as its reversal. Not in his hands.

Zagan recited a small incantation under his breath, brushing his thumb back and forth over the symbols as if merely rubbing away a bit of dust. With every swipe the symbols grew fainter and fainter until they disappeared altogether, leaving behind nothing but clean, unmarred bone.

He held it up to the candlelight and examined it again. Pleased, he tossed it away and pulled out the next one.

Xavier, no longer strong enough to scream, could only groan and sob as his father ripped yet more parts out of his body, overwhelmed by fear and pain.

But there was another sensation as well; an odd, supernatural pull somewhere deep inside his being. It seemed to exist independently of the pain, and had nothing to do with what was happening to him physically.

It did, however, have everything to do with what was happening to him magically. This body, having been technically dead for so many decades, was dying again. In all reality it had already died again, and as his father methodically did away with his lock, Xavier’s hold inside his vessel began to loosen.

By the time the last vertebra was torn from his spine and the symbols on it erased, that hold was all but nonexistent.

“There we are,” said Zagan, sighing again as he smiled to himself. “Now the real work begins.”

Even if he’d been inclined to bother with an exorcism, it was no longer necessary. Given enough time Xavier would be forced to leave Christian’s body on his own, but Zagan wasn’t inclined to wait.

Instead, he reached into his son’s abdominal cavity one last time, thrusting through dead flesh and fractured bone and into the very core of him, physical and metaphysical, feeling around until his hand closed around what he sought.

Making sure to maintain an iron grip on his prize, Zagan ripped Xavier free from what remained of his moorings. When Zagan’s hand emerged, bloody and singed, it held a cloud of oily black smoke that crackled with electricity.

There were no anguished screams to mark this final parting, no sobs or desperate pleas to echo off the stone.

There was only the burnt out, mutilated husk of a body, the scent of sulfur, and a cloud of oily black smoke.

Zagan smiled at the smoke and released it, leaving it free but still stuck inside the demon trap, before pushing the husk out of the way to give himself more room to work.

What came next would require every last ounce of his will and concentration. This was magic he did not inherently possess, and if he could not see his vision clearly, if he could not believe in it wholly, it would not bear fruit.

He closed his eyes, steeling his will as he began to draw every bit of energy in the room outside his own toward him, no matter how small. The remnants of Xavier’s emotion, the electricity of a demon in true form, the lifeforce of the plants surrounding the church—all were taken and absorbed.

Even the candles were drawn in, extinguishing themselves one by one as Zagan pulled their heat and energy close, inserting his will and chanting ancient magic to manipulate the mass of energy to his whim.

And there, in the middle of the demon trap, it slowly began to take form. A single point of light that pulsed and grew as yet more light surrounded and encased it, becoming a womb for an old demon’s creation.

With every pulse, the air shimmered as it regained its charge, making Zagan’s skin prickle and burn to the point of pain. But still he did not buckle, digging even deeper and giving even more of himself as he watched the light become something at once both liquid and solid, something that elongated and molded itself until it resembled a human body.

Almost done.

He looked up at where the cloud of smoke hovered above his head. It would be cleaner to do it in one fell swoop. Faster. Even for a being as old as he was, keeping this level of concentration took its toll. Mere seconds could be the difference between success and miserable failure.

The new vessel was almost complete; the moment it was, he would draw Xavier into it and seal him inside. He had to move quickly, but gingerly, with the precision of a surgeon.

Zagan took a deep breath. Clenching one hand as tightly as he could to hold his creation in place, he used the other to draw his child down and guide him into his new vessel.

A different kind of light began emanating from the body as it was slowly given life. Zagan grit his teeth against the strain as it grew in strength, as he was pushed to the very edge of his limits by the effort of controlling so much raw energy.

No sooner had the last wisp of black smoke disappeared from view than the light burned out with enough force to shatter every window in the crumbling church.

Zagan fell back, utterly exhausted but brimming with triumphant hubris as he gazed upon his creation. His vision, made flesh.

It was perfect.

Zagan spent a few moments catching his breath and recuperating some of his strength, after which he got to his feet to gather himself. He adjusted his sleeves and went to retrieve his coat, brushing off bits of colored glass before slipping it back on. He placed the bowl and the candlestick back on their table, took a piece of glass and sliced through the carpet, breaking the demon trap.

And when he finally approached the unconscious, supine body that now belonged to Xavier, and watched as he drew his first breath, Zagan bent to place a kiss on his forehead.

“Perhaps now you’ll learn,” he whispered. “My beautiful boy.”

A rustle of wings, and Xavier was left alone in the darkness.

#Waiting for a Tuesday self para

20 notes · View notes

aot-snk-4238 · 3 years

Text

My thoughts on AOT No Requiem (Fanmade Ending) Part 1:

With another chapter of this story coming out soon, I thought now would be a good time to share my thoughts on the first part. Before I do that, though, I have a few things that I would like to get off my chest.

A part of me hates that this project exists. Not because I find it disrespectful, but because it serves as a bitter reminder of what a complete mess this ending caused among many fans. I'm still in disbelief how things got so bad so quickly. First, you've got the people who hated it. People began turning on Isayama and calling him a terrible or incompetent writer, regretting ever getting into the series, insisting that it was worse than Game of Thrones, the list goes on and on. People who liked the ending are now endlessly referred to as "ending defenders" or more crude names like "Isayama cockriders," as though they're a bunch of incompetent fools who don't know the first thing about reading comprehension all because they just happened to like it. And then of course you've got the other extreme end of the spectrum where the ones who were disappointed are accused of not understanding the story or they're only upset because their favorite ship or fan theory didn't become canon. This, too, is very demeaning and invalidating for those who grew up with this series that they gave their heart to and cherished for so long, only to have it do what they felt was a complete 180 at the very last second that undid every part of the story they thought was special and unique. It's one of the hardest slaps to the face you can get as a reader and long-time fan, and while I can't fully relate to everyone's feelings, I can at least understand and acknowledge that it's there and it shouldn't be laughed at. Now with all of that out of the way, here are my thoughts and analysis of this fanmade ending and how it differs from Isayama's.

To start things off, I found that part 1 started off similar to how 137 did in the canon manga, with Armin and Zeke conversing in PATHS. The biggest difference would be kid Eren being transported there and seeing his older self. To be fair though, this chapter was only about half the length of what we're used to reading, so I'm sure we'll get a lot more in part 2 onwards.

While Zeke is enlightening Armin on the history of the earth and how the life form that attached itself to Ymir sought to avoid death forever, young Eren is in PATHS too with his older self, witnessing the moment Ymir found the tree and fell in it to become the first titan. At first, there is no dialogue exchanged between them. They just hold hands and watch. Meanwhile, Zeke is still talking to Armin about Ymir and how she continued to serve her oppressive master despite acquiring godlike powers that would allow her to obliterate him whenever she pleased. This is where the team working on this project attempt to provide their own alternate possibilities as to why this happened in a way that would make more sense than what we were given in the canon story in which she simply had a severe case of Stockholm Syndrome and couldn't let him go no matter how much he made her suffer.

So what are these new possibilities? They come in the form of a question, so their validity is not made absolutely certain, but they're presented as the most likely candidates nonetheless.

According to Zeke, she was unable to separate her own desires from King Fritz and was a lost girl who sought meaning. A place to belong. Tragically, King Fritz was the only connection she had in her life, so she clung to it with everything she had despite it being toxic and abusive. I could argue that these are the very reasons why she supposedly loved the king in the official manga, as explained by Eren in 139, but they weren't explained or touched on as plainly as they were here. I feel like they could have been if Isayama had just been given more time, but sadly the whole thing was rushed and underdeveloped.

Moving on, Zeke states that despite his efforts in trying to understand Ymir and her feelings, it was Eren who ultimately was able to get to her and offer her the choice of freedom. The next page transitions to young Eren standing in the clouds with his arms spread out and a smile on his face just like in the official 137, only this time 19yo Eren is next to him. Now I'm going to be honest here, this is where things started to get a little corny for me. Yeah. I know a lot of people hate that argument, but that's just how it felt to me. And before I say anything else, I want everybody to know that I am in no way about to mock anyone's fondness of this Eren over the one we saw in 139, even if it was a little over-the-top. It's perfectly fine to prefer one over the other, I'm just going to try to explain myself the best I can without coming across as harsh or unprofessional.

Eren is drawn in these panels to be a stone-faced, determined and unstoppable force who will "keep moving forward until his enemies are destroyed." This is the Eren that many people grew most familiar with throughout the series, despite his occasional breakdowns, but something about the way it was executed just felt a little too overdramatic and exaggerated. For me, the contrast between this Eren and the Eren we were presented with in 139 is too jarring. It came across to me as the fandom's idealized version of Eren, the "chad" Eren if you will, rather than Isayama's portrayal of Eren who is cold and determined, but has also been experiencing stunted mental growth ever since the day he saw his mother get eaten; side note: I know that Eren himself was responsible for his mother's death, but that's a discussion for a later time. Not only that, but the "keep moving forward" line starts to get overused at this point. We already heard Eren say this a number of times before 137 where this first fanmade chapter takes place, so I didn't find it necessary to include that at the end, but it seemed to be the writers' way of trying to reinforce Eren's ultimate goal.

Regarding the rest of the chapter, young Eren asks older Eren what Ymir is still waiting for after he showed her that she's not alone. 19yo Eren proceeds to explain that while he was able to make her feel something again, she still needs somebody to free her. He shows his younger self all of the visions from PATHS that he's seen so far, ranging from past events to alternate realities to things that couldn't be changed no matter what. Now there is only one path left that he strives toward. The one that he believes will grant him and his people freedom. This next line is the one that stood out to me the most throughout this fanmade chapter. Still talking to kid Eren, adult Eren says, "When you wake up, you will forget what you learned, but not what you felt here. This will all feel just like a long dream." Only when he kisses Historia's hand will it all come back to him. This line more clearly explains why Eren woke up crying in chapter 1, but couldn't remember why. Then he circles back to how he intends to carry out his own plan to end the cycle of hatred once and for all. Despite his efforts along the way, he couldn't change the flow of PATHS and save the friends he lost or prevent certain events from happening altogether, so he had to accept that sacrifices had to be made. In this case, he will have to literally sacrifice the world, much to Armin's horror.

To wrap this up, I'm going to finish comparing this to the canon 137, but since the first part of this project only covers the PATHS portion of it, that's where I'll stop as well. To save a little but of time, I'm just gonna be lazy and copy the first part of a quick overview of the chapter I found as part of the wiki:

So clearly, canon 137 starts off focusing a lot more on Armin and Zeke's differing philosophies and does not provide any further insight into Eren's ultimate motives like this one does, at least not yet. Armin and Eren are bound to face off soon in this fanmade version, but it looks to me like this time the writers are planning on flipping the outcome and having Eren come out victorious instead, especially when I remember the name of this project and what it's based on. I guess that means that in a way, I already know what's ultimately going to happen throughout the rest of this project. Whether it's going to be considered superior to the actual ending is going to depend on if its executed properly. I could very well be wrong about some of this, though. I want to give it a fair shot since these people have clearly put a lot of hard work and passion into this, so I will refrain from further judgement until we get the full picture. On a side note, I just want to say that the artwork is beautiful so far and I commend every artist responsible for their efforts. I also liked the song choice at the beginning and thought it set the mood pretty well.

Thank you to everyone who read the whole thing. This took me far longer to write than it should have because I'm not always good at expressing myself in a way that does not come across as confusing or contradictory. I will continue to share my thoughts as more content is released, which by the looks of it could be any day now.

#snk #aot no requiem #snk fanfiction #snk manga #snk 137 #armin arlert #zeke jaeger #eren jaeger #ymir fritz

26 notes · View notes

androgynousblackbox · 3 years

Text

Thoughts about the fifth season (spoilers)

Okay, so normally I would make these posts as neutral as possible because I want them to reach anyone who enjoys the show. Even if you are someone that really fucking hates incest ships you can read them and still have an idea of what I liked, what didn’t, etc, without me bringing up that element. You can disagree or agree without being reminded “oh, yeah, he is one of THOSE fans I don’t like” and that is totally fine by me. Curate your own online experience and all that. But this is season is quite literally about the relationship between Rick and Morty, so as a rickmorty shipper I just can’t separate that from what I enjoyed about it and thus I am going to be talking from that position during all of this. If that makes you uncomfortable, that is cool, I get it. You can skip this one if you want. Also, this is going to be a general big mess of thoughts and whatever because I have lots of them so, bear with me. -Some of the shippers I was with on a server will know this already, but from the very first episode I was sure we were going to have two major themes: 1. Rick is a flawed human being, not a god, not a ultra genius who is always destined to be on top of everything and knows how to get out of any situation. Just a man. And that is why he needs other people, which is somethig he had to accept and understand about himself, especially after the fourth season was all about dethroning him as the patriarch of the family and break away the illusions that Beth had about her own father. We have standed too long having Rick win on everything and coming out like a badass, so it’s time to kick him down a bit and let him lose. 2. Morty’s heart is always going to get fucked over, which is something that gets even more explored on the Planetina episode: he wants a place to belong with a person who doesn’t make him feel like the odd one out. Combine the two and my idea was: they want to assure us about their relationship on some kind of way, this is about them and what they feel regarding each other. Probably about why or how Rick became so jaded because why else include Rick freaking out about Mr Nimbus just mentioning Diane’s name and how much he changed, on a first episode no less, if this isn’t something we are setting up to see later. They explicitely brought someone from Rick’s past to talk about that past and make a point to tell us that changed Rick. -So, we have the two major player set up like this: on one hand, Morty aspires for that companionship but he is not willing to compromise his own moral for it, whatever he has left after starting to take on some Rick’s traits. He is desperate for that connection and if that means leaving Rick behind, so be it. Rick will still be there anyway. On othe other hand, Rick also wants that connection and companionship but it’s too disfunctional and can’t make it quite work because there is always a part of him that wants to keep distance. With the alien lady, evne with the crows, it’s all about escapism and pretend like everything is fine, it’s just fun and he doesn’t have to care because they are just having a good time together. He tried to do that too with BP by keeping away the info about his daughter, but he called his bluff because BP knew Rick too much to not see that comic. It’s rebound after rebound because he is missing the one person that can keep him in check, that truly knows what a piece of fucking shit he is and somehow still comes back to him. BP saw that, knew what was happening, and prefered to get the fuck away because he didn’t want to compromise his own values like that either. But Rick doesn’t have that problem with Morty. It truly is Rick and Morty one hundread years because, no matter how fucking bad it gets, they still choose one another. -Now, the way they keep building up this relationship, these connection, even regarding the rest of the family, to me is brilliant in restrospect because it perfectly illustrate how much they have changed from what they were before and what that means. Morty is more independent and less afraid, right, but that doesn’t make him more happier because he is still lonely and Rick is being reminded, over and over again, that he can’t be alone either. -Regarding the way Morty have behaved, I have seen some people being concerned about how Morty is becoming more independent and therefore not relying on Rick as much for anything, so it’s like what is the point of their relationship anymore. And like, to me it makes sense they show because they have already told us on past seasons that Morty has stopped viewing Rick with that wide eyed expression for a long time. He is learning from him and can defend himself, so why does he need Rick at al? The answer is because he loves him. You can read that as platonic or romantic or whatever, but for better or for worse Morty just loves Rick. You shouldn’t love people because you need them, or at least that is not a healthy basis for any relationship. I said this on another post: you cannot make anyone to be your center for your mental health like that, and I feel like they aware of this point, which I really fucking love because it would have been easy as fuck to write any pairing like that. -If you stay for the “Behind of scenes” scenes, the writers talk about how this season is about building trust between Rick and Morty. So it starts with Morty going around cleaning up some of the messes Rick left behind without telling Rick and then fucking the portal gun because he doesn’t trust Rick to not “kill him” to finding out he did that, just like Rick in fact doesn’t trust Morty to not be doing unnecesary bullshit. So Morty, hurt because his suspicions were right, puts an ultimatum and Rick, being the petty fuck we all know him to be, takes it kind because of course he would. -What does Morty does immediately after this? Latch onto another sketchy as fuck older man whose name ends with Ick and hope that is the connection he craves, because after all “we are like brothers now.” So rebound for him, rebound for Rick, rebounds for the crows, rebounds for everyone. Yay. -I know it has been however many years have passed since this show started, and it was obvious for fucking everyone who watched it, but I do really like that they use the exact words for how their dynamic has been: unhealthy, toxic, abusive. Lack of trust, lack of boundaries, secrets. Just straight up calling it as it is. So they have both of them confronting that fact, being aware of it, and to top it all off, make Morty the only being now on their universe that knows everything about Rick, every single thing he has kept even from BP, like the true reason he joined to their guerilla group, and still makes the conscious choice to go after Rick even when, as far he was aware of at least, there was another option. -So, okay, now what, might someone ask. We have put everything out there and we have talked about what is wrong about their relationship, does this mean we are doing the boring healthy bullshit now? Well, nope. Considering that Morty did went out of his way to guilt trip Rick into getting back and Rick admits point blank admits he get it, Morty refusing to demand things be different because he is just desperate... they are still and probably always going to be a condependent mess, but hey, a condependent mess that at least is kinda self aware about it and won’t pull the “I am going to break up with you on a whim” move again, hopefully. I do think and expect some things to change, but only as far their dynamic during adventures goes and regarding the rest of the family, with everyone being on the know that those two are an item neither of them can get in between. Rick is probably still going to want to keep some things in control, he is still not going to express his feelings to Morty directly and Morty is still going to be a little shit that will want for validation that won’t come his way. It’s a shithole house, but at leat it’s their home kind of thing, and personally, that is how I like it. -The “adventures as a metaphor for a relationship so this is not like a real break up” is real funny when you hear the writers literally calling it a break up and a relatonship. Also, the amount of times that they say “my partner”. Like, I am sorry, but how the fuck I am supposed to believe this wasn’t for the shippers, fucking how? Like even if you aren’t one, and you go “it’s a metaphor!! it’s not like an actual relationship, they are not saying they are together as a couple”, that is flimsy as fuck because we have determined already that Rick uses adventures as an extension for all his relationships. There is a intentional paralel between BP and Morty and how Rick treats the both of them, like he would do anything for them but still be kind of a lying piece of shit too, so it’s definitely canon on the sense -Omg, we had miniature cute Mortys who like crayons and also big hot adult Morty, fucking finally. I cannot fucking believe they wouldn’t know the blessing they were throwing to fandom with that one, they know what they are doing. -Rick as a boy dressing on the same colors of Morty could have been a cute little detail, like aww, they are family, so they pass down those colors from one generation to another because family, but fuck all of that, let’s make it creepy and fucked up because why not. But it’s also interesting because if Ricks breeded Mortys and put those colors on them, isn’t that another way of saying “you are connected to us just as much as we are connected to you”? Because they didn’t had to chose those colors, but they did it because it meant something for them. On a very fucked up way, I think they might even feel themselves more fathers to Morty than even Beth, because many of them didn’t cared manipulating her in order to gain more Mortys even if they could just clone them easily. -”You all really are bred for forgiveness”... Not really, or else “Evil Morty” wouldn’t exist and Cop Rick, the good one, would have never been attacked by using the attachment of Ricks against him. But Morty had made his choice and that choice was Rick, and even then Rick cannot fucking believe it so he has to reduce it to his breeding. -So, the finite curve has been destroyed and almost all Ricks were killed, the ones that weren’t coincidentally fucking off to another place just when that happened. That means that now there is true infinite universe where Rick is not the smartest man on the universe, where Rick doesn’t even exist at all, so we may have adventures where other people where the smartest people on their universe and Rick could finally meet his equal or someone even worse. -The final speech of Mr Poppybutthole is kinda the perfect ending to everything, because he is talking avoid being afraid of the people he loves finding the “true” self of him and not loving him anymore, but Morty did that and he still loves Rick and, listen, I have FEELINGS about it, okay. -After exploring this, which was the true only canonical mistery of the whole series, while also dumping off the backstory of Rick so nobody has to theorize about it anymore, it feels like they going two routes: either we are dumping anything about serialized anything, at least for a while, and we are back to just silly adventures with asshole grandpa and traumatized kid, or... we are introducing another big baddie that we are going to drag to hell and back. Maybe Evil Jerry? That could be fun to explore on the show. My bet is on the second option because I think that is the kind of thing that Justin really enjoys doing and that is why it appears on Solar Opposites as well, with the whole Wall as a central points behind all the shenanigans of the aliens. -The only misteries left are: the weird Rick that killed his family, if he wasn’t killed already on the Citadel, and Birdperson reunion with his daughter, for which he might ask Rick’s help in the future when he cools down or maybe Rick gets his daughter back for him on a ridiculous plan to make him return his calls, because that is something he is going to pull. The Jessica thing and her quest for becoming an actual character with her own thing going on. -This finale made rickmorty canon on all the ways it could without having them literally making out willingly, and after Naruto, I don’t think that is a line they are not willing to cross at some point in the future, even if it’s just a joke. They already did with the parasites. I honestly don’t even know how you can watch the show and think “fuck yeah, they hate those ships just as much as I do!”, because with the way the writers talk about it and literally this entire season being nothing but a building up for their relationship, I would have been turned if I didn’t ship it already.

#rickmorty #incest implied #andro is talking

16 notes · View notes