#eternals spoilers without context | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr was attacked by a cross-site scripting worm deployed by the Internet troll group GNAA on Dec 3, 2012.

#eternals spoilers without context

undeadentropy · 17 days

Text

Major spoilers for dungeon meshi ahead, but I really wanna talk about it.

I really love how the demon is handled. It's not just simply evil. Like every other character in the series, it's motives make perfect sense in context. What happened is one of my favorite ideas to play with in fiction. We all know about cosmic horror, and the madness that comes from perceiving their reality. And the demon, being an infinite being from another dimension, certainly is that. And it does spread chaos in its wake. Infinite mana destroys those who wield it in the end. They become foie gras.

But the truth is that it went both ways. The demon was corrupted by a finite world, where once you eat, once your desires are fulfilled, that's it. Things end. The demon is driven mad by consuming desire, by coming to understand this eldritch place it found itself in. It wished for a paradise where desires are forever fulfilled and it could feast forever. It's infinite mind couldn't accept the limitations of mortal existence. It was never equipped to understand hunger, nor could it ever be filled.

Just like a lone traveler who feasts with the fey, it couldn't go back to the way things were before. It needed more, and the only way to do that was to consume everything, forever.

It might hate Laios for what he did, but he saved it from an eternity of unsated gluttony. Bringing everyone to its realm was doomed to fail. For an infinite being, even all life won't be enough to satisfy. That how infinity works. And that's not getting into the fact that this was the only way to defeat the demon without stripping magic away from the world forever. The demon might just figure out just what a favor Laios did for it, though it might be centuries later. Recovery from addiction is never easy.

Anyway, I just think the way they handled it was neat. Alien is purely subjective. The demon was no more prepared for the mortal world than the mortal world was for it.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #spoilers #tw spoilers

604 notes · View notes

marinareads25 · 7 months

Text

THOUGHTS ON WHY JACKS IS THE WAY HE IS…

(WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD) So I’ve been thinking a lot about Jacks and how well-written he is as a character. I mean on the surface, his backstory looks simple, but when you really think about it, it is actually so tragic and really puts his attitudes and behaviors into context. The man has truly been going THROUGH IT for CENTURIES and it’s so sad. ALSO, this is just MY interpretation😆😆, I could be 100% wrong LMAO. I apologize, doing this is just my coping mechanism for the Evajacks drought we are currently experiencing. Here are a few things I considered;

The curse is supposed to be IMPOSSIBLE to break.

So we know that his curse is that his kiss is lethal and there is only one girl in the whole world that is immune to it, his one true love. Essentially, Jacks is robbed of ever kissing anyone without consequences. He can do anything he wants, but kissing, which is one of the most intimate and sentimental acts between lovers, is basically corrupted because it inevitably leads to the undoing of the objects of his affection. I mean, sure he can do it, but as long as he actually loves that person (Eva), he holds himself back. The curse is the way it is FOR A REASON. There is only ONE person who he can have a happily ever after with. It is meant to take away CHOICE. It condemns and punishes him with an eternity of loneliness. It is meant to tempt him with attraction and the idea of love, but never allows him to fully embrace it because of its consequences. The curse restrains him. He is meant to get close to love and pleasure, but never too close. In other words, there is only ONE person in the world immune to his kiss because he is NOT supposed to ever find that one person. I mean, what are the odds that you find your one true love in such a vast universe? At the right place and at the right time? And that she loves you back?

The curse irrevocably affects his notions and ideals of love.

I think that after a few lifetimes of being so close enough to touch but never hold, he basically convinces himself that his curse is his destiny. That there really is only one pathway to happily ever after. The lines become blurred and he forgets that his curse is a curse, and instead, simply perceives it as something that is set in stone, and established and completely unwavering. He genuinely believes that he has to make the best out of his situation instead of changing it. So he closes himself off, he refuses to be tempted with love ever again, or hope for something to break his curse. To him, those things are not only unrealistic but a waste of time. Jacks does NOT hope. He hates hope. Because where has that ever gotten him? Absolutely nowhere. He is still cursed. In fact, he is always laughing at Evangeline for being so hopeful about love and happily ever afters and infinite endings (I think by the end of TBONA, he admires her for it, but he does not see the value in her philosophy immediately). In his eyes, there are no infinite endings. If there were, there would be one feasible way to make it work, to find a happily ever after. But no, to him, there is one simple ending for him and he sees it so clearly and vividly and fixed that he cannot ignore it. And so he turns his pain and resentment and hurt into drive. He decides to play into the game of destiny and laugh in its face. He is determined to do the impossible; find his one true love. As we know, Fates are obsessive. So he becomes obsessed with the idea of fulfilling what he now sees as his destiny and not a curse; finding his one true love. In fact, he becomes so obsessive that he starts not giving a fuck about the consequences and will do whatever it takes; kiss as many girls as it takes, play with as many humans as it takes, hurt people, scheme, etc. He does not see himself being capable of having a happily ever after beyond what he thinks is his destiny, which is why he is so determined to go back to Donatella. Even if she doesn't love him. He does not care about that, all he knows is that she is the only person that he will ever be able to have a happily ever after with.

The constant failure in his efforts to break the curse convinces him he is unworthy/incapable of love.

He also starts seeing himself as incapable of love. Not only because he is a Fate or because he is cursed, but he does not believe it’s in his control, he has concluded that his destiny has already been decided. But it’s not only that. The events in the Caraval series are extremely significant. He finally finds his one true love. The ONE person that he can have a happily ever after with and not only does she NOT love him back but also not even a curse/magic can make her love him. This further feeds into his perception of being incapable of love. If not even a curse can make the ONE person that he is supposed to be with, love him, then who will ever love him WILLINGLY and NATURALLY? (Music break: Who could ever leave me darling? But who could stay?🎵🎵🕺)

Which is why he is deeply hurt when Evangeline tells him in The Hollow that they are only feeling that way because of the Mirth stone. He says something along the lines of, so you think you would only ever feel that way about me because of the stone? This brings back his fear of being incapable of experiencing love, not because of the curse, not because of being a fate, but because no one ever will do it out of their own initiative. So he closes off again and that’s why he goes cold again after the incident with the mirth stone. He allowed himself to get lost and entertain the idea of experiencing love with Evangeline for a few days. He allowed himself to imagine and hope that there was another ending, to “pretend” as he said. And it felt so real, it was terrifying to him. Terrifying because it was love but also terrifying because he got a taste of it knowing in his heart he was doomed to never have it or experience it again.

He sabotages himself.

Jacks once said that he was a villain even in his own story, and he really is because he consistently sabotages himself. We know that there is a loophole to every curse and yet he never even entertains the idea of finding it (When Evangeline suggests there might be something for him in the Valory Arch, he says “That’s not how it works.”). He never tries to break his curse, only fulfill it. He never dreams, hopes. He yields to the curse. Every. Single. Time. He refuses to see that he has a degree of free will, no matter how limited. That he does not have to settle for what he thinks destiny has already planned for him. I am NOT saying that he has given up or anything, because WE know the passion and desperation and DRIVE that he has. And he DOES fight against FATE in a way, but I just think all that energy is being channeled in the wrong direction. I think he knows that he COULD dream and hope, but he KNOWS that it takes courage and vulnerability. He KNOWS that to hope and dream is to drop your guard and shield being fully aware that it could end badly, that you could still bleed. He KNOWS that allowing himself to believe in infinite endings HURTS. Because another failure would END him. So he refuses to put himself in a position where he will get hurt. (Music break: I see right through me, I see right through me🎵🎵✨✨✨)

Final Thoughts

In conclusion, he is so babygirl AHAHHA, I love him sm. Anyways, I have an unhealthy attachment to this character and I hope he gets to love and kiss and just be happy with Eva. I really just want him to find peace.

#ouabh #a curse for true love #acftl #the ballad of the archer and the fox #evajacks #jacks the prince of hearts #evangeline fox #the ballad of never after #fantasy romance #stephanie garber

190 notes · View notes

spectersgirl · 2 months

Note

heyyy!! so i just started s5 of suits and (spoiler if you haven’t seen it!!!!) harvey’s panic attacks were introduced after donna left and IM HURTING FOR HIM. but i think that’s such great angst material lol so if you’re still taking requests maybe something with that?

Hiiiii friends!

I know I've been gone for... quite a while... but I'm hoping to start writing more frequently again! I've undergone some massive life changes over the last few months and the stress of that basically caused me to completely burn out creatively. That being said, I have a TONNN of requests in my inbox and a few of them are generally in this same realm, so I will be using all of them for this piece, I hope that's okay with you all <3

The other requests were

"soft harvey just around his girl in a tense moment?!"

"hiii! i love your writing! i was wondering if you could write a fic where harvey had like a bad day at work and he just goes home and collapses onto the reader. like just hugs and softness and cuddles galore!"

I referenced actual events and lines from the show but changed up the context a little bit, obviously.

I appreciate you all for reading my work and liking it enough to request anything from me. I've never had such a positive response to anything I've created before, so this all means the world to me. Truly, thank you :')

Be With You

Harvey Specter x Reader

--------

It was nearly 11pm and you were teetering on sleep, having worked all day and come home to do a much-needed cleaning of your apartment followed by a glass of wine, when your phone loudly pinged on the nightstand. You fumbled for it and turned on the small bedside lamp next to you. You smiled when you saw it was your boyfriend, probably just saying goodnight, you'd assumed.

"Hey, can I come over? Please? I really need to see you right now."

A pit formed in your stomach reading the words on your screen. Though you hadn't been dating Harvey all that long, you'd spent a lot of time together, but he'd never sent a message like that.

"Of course, is everything okay?"

You couldn't help but worry, it was simply in your nature. You stared at the bubbles that indicated he was typing, which seemed to take an eternity.

"Not really, it's been a rough day and I just really need you."

Your heart lurched, Harvey had rough days all the time as a lawyer, but none had caused this response from him. You wondered what could've possibly happened. You got up, going back out into the living room and took a seat on the couch as you lit your electric fireplace with a remote.

"I'm sorry :( come over whenever, I'll unlock the door for you."

You did just that and looked down at the pajamas you'd chosen, just some shorts and a tank top. You decided they were fine enough for Harvey to see you in. You busied yourself with some TV to pass the time until he arrived. He was there in 20 minutes, and you immediately clocked the visible exhaustion on his face as he walked inside.

He dropped his jacket onto the couch without saying a word. You opened your arms for him as he walked to you and wrapped himself around you in a hug that felt like he was clinging to you for dear life. You stroked the hair at the back of his neck as he breathed you in, and you felt that he had been sweating.

"Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?" You asked hesitantly, still cradled in his strong arms.

He shook his head before pulling back, allowing you to really look at him now. His eyes looked like he'd been crying, and his cheeks were flushed. Your heart plummeted into your stomach.

"Not right now, I just need to be with you." He said, his voice slightly hoarse.

You nodded and sat with him on the couch, laying your head on his chest while you listened to his heartbeat. He absentmindedly stroked your hair while staring into the fireplace, debating on whether he wanted to fully open up about everything that was on his mind.

When he finally spoke, his voice was laced with nerves, and you sat up at full attention.

"I... A while back, right before I met you, Donna had left my desk to go and work for Louis. When that happened, I started having panic attacks. It felt like I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, it just completely took over my entire body until it passed. She came back to work for me, and then I met you, and I think that combination helped me tremendously."

You nodded, listening as he continued.

"I didn't want to tell you about it because I didn't want you to worry or make you think I was weak, and since I stopped having them, I didn't think it was important anymore, but today... I had another one."

"Harvey, I would never think you were weak for being honest about your feelings or your struggles. I'd like to think you'd be understanding and supportive of me if I was going through the same thing."

"Of course I would!" He said definitively.

"Exactly. So, do you want to talk about it? Or do you want to sit some more?"

He sighed and ran his free hand through his hair.

"Donna told me she didn't want to be on my desk anymore, she said she wanted more. I get that, but I just don't know how I'm going to do what I do without her help."

"Did she say what she meant by 'more'?" You asked softly.

"She said she didn't know."

Harvey hung his head slightly, looking down at the floor. You could tell how much this was affecting him, normally he had all the answers and didn't sweat about getting what he wanted, but this time felt different. You knew how much he and Donna had been through for them to get to this point, so it never occurred to you that someday she might want to leave her position. You idly rubbed circles on his back.

"Maybe you can still give her more and keep her at the firm with you?" You suggested, desperately trying to come up with a solution to soothe the pain you knew he was in.

"I'd love that, but ultimately if she wants to go, I have no choice but to let her."

You sighed and laid your head on his shoulder, you yawned and briefly closed your eyes as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

"You tired?" Harvey asked softly, suddenly noticing that it was long past the time you normally went to bed.

You nodded, sitting up again.

"Yeah, but I knew you needed me." You answered, looking up at him as you grabbed his hand, kissing the back of it.

"I'm sorry baby, I didn't mean to keep you up." He replied, feeling guiltier than he had when he walked in. The time hadn't even registered to him after the day he'd had.

"No, no. It's okay, this is what partners do. You should be able to lean on one another, it's a balance. I'm glad you trust me and our relationship enough to want me to be with you for this while you process. Now, are you sleeping here with me or are we going back to your place? Because I know you, and I know you won't admit you don't want to sleep alone tonight."

Harvey smiled weakly before he pulled you in for a soft kiss.

"I love you, Y/N. So much." He whispered against your lips when the kiss broke.

The admission made your heart skip a beat. Neither of you had said the L word yet, but you knew from the moment you saw him that he was it for you. Harvey had felt the same but didn't want to come off as some crazy boyfriend that knew you for all of five minutes, so he buried those feelings deep down for as long as he could bare.

"I love you too, Harvey." You said, a smile growing on your lips.

"Let's stay here tonight, I don't want to spend another second not in a bed with the wonderful, gorgeous, brilliant, selfless woman that I love." Harvey declared, standing and taking you with him.

"Uh oh, you're gonna make me cry." You warned, sensing the impending waterworks.

"I'm just getting started."

#harvey specter #harvey specter suits #harvey specter x reader #suits fics #harveyspecter #request #suits #we're so back

84 notes · View notes

tuxedo-rabbit · 7 months

Text

Shadowheart's Curse: The info missing from the Selune Path

Spoilers Ahead! Don't read further if you are not finished with Shadowheart's Act 3 quest.

I just finished Shadowheart's act 3 quest and had some questions about her curse. The decision you're given at the end seems incredibly simple, despite how grave the characters act while discussing it. Then I read this reddit post.

Apparently the Selunite path is missing context about what exactly Shar's curse does. I'd love to bring this discussion to the tumblr side of fandom, so I've copied the relevant bits of discussion here. Feel free to read the full thread instead, but the Shadowheart bits are a small part of a larger discussion, so you will have to scroll to find things.

From reddit user That_Red_Moon:

"IMO SH suffers from having such a massive cross-road in her story in Act 2. They wanted to support the paths with basically the same amount of "space" expected comparable to others/ Ast, so lines and content and details are divided in such away that you would have to play a number of paths to get the full picture.

Like (Shar path) people think SH taking her Parents to the camp is the best choice because they think the Shar curse is just an annoying AF chronic ouchy and "you can handle chronic pain if it means your family lives". No, Shar Path SH reveals that the curse connects them to Shar. The pain was punishment for moments when she felt SH starting to lean towards Selune (Which explains why it goes off so often in the background in Act 3 when SH saves Night Song and why it's completely gone and replaced by POWER when she goes Shar path ... unless she turns on her and takes her parents), and Shar used the parents pain from the curse/ their refusal to turn from Selune regardless of the torture to convert into power.

It's confirmed that when Shar SH kills her parents they go to Shar to be exposed to eternal torment and pain to power SH as Shar's chosen ... they don't go to Selune regardless of being "2 of her most fanatic followers" (Which was why she targeted them). Turning her parents into Moon Motes on the Selune Path is the only path that unquestioningly frees the family from Shar in both life and death, as the curse is a connection to Shar that allows her to take them in the afterlife. Otherwise? You're hoping Selune does something in the future with no guarantee. "

Reddit user mr_Jyggalag:

"Do her parents get sent to Shar after death in each case, or just if they would be killed by Shadowheart as Shar's chosen?"

Reddit user That_Red_Moon:

"I don't see why Shar SH would have the power to send her life long Selune worshiping parents souls to Shar's Side for eternal torment but Shar, with her 40yrs of curse on this family, wouldn't be able to collect their souls in death if they're still connected to her via the curse.

To me, it's simple. The Odd Man Out is the Selune SH Moon Mote path.

-Shar SH leaves with her parents. This doesn't break the connection to Shar, she is back to being tormented by Shar making Curse pain to fuck up her life.

-Shar SH kills her parents. Parents are sent to Shar for never ending torment and this pain is converted into power for SH. She has no curse pain, but curse is still there because it feeds her and connects her to Shar + Parents ... she just gets more and more power from her parent's never ending suffering without remembering who they are or what she did (YOU remember though ... ).

-Selune SH leaves with parents. They are all still cursed and dealing with Shar tormenting them with curse pain. Again, like the past 40 years, doesn't matter that the parents are "2 of Selune's most fanatic followers" who never turned their back on Selune ... they're all still connected to Shar through the curse.

-Selune SH kills parents to free them all from Shar's curse. The whole family is freed from Shar and Shar's' curse, Parents go to Selune's side as Moon Motes, no way for Shar to torment SH or parents as the curse is gone.

There are 2 paths where the parents die, and the only time they go to Selune is when they're freed of the curse. With the curse, the go to Shar as it was always her intent to torment these 2 endlessly to juice up her chosen (SH)"

Here's a link to a youtube video showing Dark Justicar Shadowheart killing her parents, in case you'd like to see what That_Red_Moon is talking about yourself.

This missing context, imo at least, would make the choice for a Selunite Shadowheart hit harder. It makes killing her family feel like it has as many benefits as sending them to camp. And as many drawbacks.

As is, it feels like the game tells you that turning Shadowheart's parents into moonmotes is a noble sacrifice but doesn't actually show me why the curse is bad enough to warrant their deaths.

#bg3 #bg3 spoilers #shadowheart #baldurs gate 3 #shadowheart meta #bg3 meta

123 notes · View notes

overshelter · 6 months

Text

REVIEW: Heaven Official's Blessing

WARNING: Contains numerous SPOILERS, so CAUTION!

<< REFERS TO THE UNREVISED VERSION >> This is the author's third work and also her longest. TGCF, unlike SV which seems to focus more on the emotional and MDZS which focuses more on themes such as forgiveness and overcoming, seems to pay more attention to the feelings and relationships between the characters. The fact that the MC, Xie Lian, has lived for just over 800 years is definitely not something that can be easily overcome. Having lived, felt and related to numerous types of people over such a long period of time, it's completely natural that he would end up making extremely difficult decisions or be driven to almost irreparable psychological damage. In fact, I still find it incredible and truly admirable how he managed to overcome and move on even in the midst of many things. Even if there were moments in the current timeline when you can see that some of those wounds were merely treated, but never truly and completely healed. Most of his relationships in the beginning are completely in ruins, and don't seem to have any chance of recovery. But even with all that, he has still managed, not to mend, but to patch up many wounds that have emerged over the years. The other characters were also written and developed in a very human way, which was an unparalleled point of attraction in my opinion. What really stuck with me was that no one in this story can be described as entirely good or evil. Everyone walks a fine line between these two sides, fighting and doing the best they can for themselves, their loved ones and for a hope of happiness. All their decisions, actions and emotions are extremely relatable if you simply put yourself in their shoes without having any kind of prejudice in mind. They show that we can all reach a point of no return if we are pushed to the limit. Moving on, another crucial point in this story is undoubtedly the romance. It was developed in a very sweet way. So sweet that you end up melting with every interaction. HuaLian really is that fairytale couple, who have an enviable and perfect love, with a true sense of eternity. It's completely impossible to look at them and not feel like you're floating or have that warm feeling in your chest. To tell you the truth, I think they're the couple with the cutest vibe out of the three by this author. I'd say they're like that teenage romance or the taste of first love. That love that burns, that warms you, that won't let you forget it. A gentle love that makes you feel complete and totally welcomed. With this person, you feel like the whole world could turn its back on you and everything would still be fine. Because that person, that person alone is enough. That person you know and feel will never, ever abandon you and will always be there for you, supporting you no matter what. That's how HuaLian makes you feel. That's how they are. A simple, sweet and engaging definition of the word love. TGCF is also a very good story in terms of holding your attention. There are lots of things happening all the time, well-developed schemes, backstories to be discovered, new characters and a whole range of extremely attractive contexts that you can't take your eyes off. Everything was very well written and crafted, with nothing that seemed tedious or unnecessary throughout. MXTX, for me, is an author with a real talent for writing. Everything is very captivating and can hit you hard if you choose to give it a chance. Well, I'll stop here, as I feel I have nothing more to say. I hope you give this baby a try!

73 notes · View notes

nateconnolly · 2 months

Text

I made a Patreon lol.

Here's the free sample post:

THE CREATION MYTH OF KILL 6 BILLION DEMONS

INTRODUCTION

I love fantasy religions. I love it when fictional humans try to understand worlds like Brandon Sanderson’s Cosmere and Tolkein’s Middle Earth through a religious lens—especially because in those books and in many others, the fantasy religions are somewhat true, and somewhat false. It’s really fun to look at a fictional universe through the eyes of a character who might not see things objectively. Religion usually plays a role in that. But, if I’m being honest, a lot of fantasy religions are just Christianity wearing a fun hat. Don’t get me wrong, I am fascinated by Chrisitianity, and I really enjoy a lot of fantasy versions of Christianity. But it’s a great special treat when a fantasy story goes the extra mile and portrays another concept of the divine. That’s one of many reasons that I love the webcomic Kill 6 Billion Demons. The webcomic’s fictional religion Atru has parallels to Taoism, Gnosticism, Advaita Vedanta, theothanatology, Biblical divine nomenclature, the list goes on. I just threw a lot of big scary words at you, but I promise, this is a beginner level essay. I’ll break everything down into bite-sized pieces. I just wanted to list out some of K6BD’s religious influences to show that they are complicated, and diverse.

This is specifically a essay about the creation narratives. K6BD is an amazing comic—later on, it tackles questions about time, free will, and optimistic nihilism, but I won’t dig into that stuff here. Those things would require their own essays. Here, I’m going to try to explain how the seven-part world came to be. More specifically, I’ll examine the stories that White Chain, Cio, Michael, and the old devil’s tale tell us; then I’ll look at fictional holy texts found in the Concordance.

I’ll also compare and contrast with a lot of real world religion and philosophy. I want to be clear that the creator Abaddon and I have never spoken. I don’t know where he got most of his inspiration. I’m not revealing any information that wasn’t already available, I’m just compiling it and offering my own thoughts. Unless I specifically quote Abaddon, assume that I’m not even talking about his inspirations. I’m drawing parallels because it’s fun, even though it probably won’t give us new insight into how the text was created.

I promise I’m not trying to convert you! I genuinely don’t want to make other people believe the religion that I believe—or any religion at all. I’m just trying to show you how understanding some real world religious and philosophical concepts can deepen your appreciation of K6BD. Obviously, there will be tons of spoilers, so go read the webcomic if you haven’t already. It’s absolutely genius.

Lastly, I want to say I will discuss suicide and murder.

Ok, let’s get started.

PART ONE: THE FIRST AND GREATEST DIVISION

Let There Be No Genesis

White Chain begins the history of the universe with the words, “Let there be no Genesis,” closely echoing the in-universe fictional Psalm I. “For indeed, there was [no Genesis]. God has always existed and has never existed.” As White Chain tells her story, we are shown the god YISUN. This figure is sometimes described with it/its or she/her pronouns, but for the sake of simplicity, I’m going to follow the example of the fictional Psalm I, and use he/him. I might call him “YISUN” or “God” with a capital G depending on the context.

YISUN was eternal, and the “undisputed master of the entire omniverse.” He predates everything else, and without him, nothing would exist.

YISUN has at least twelve bodies, probably more. Some are smiling, some look mad; some resemble insects or animals; most hold weapons; and all are different colors. The central white body has four arms. Abaddon has said that YISUN’s appearance is directly inspired by the Hindu god Vishvarupa. Hindu gods are frequently depicted with multiple body parts, an artistic tradition that Doris Srinivasan calls “the multiplicity convention.” She explains some of the religious and artistic reasons that many Indian gods have multiple body parts in her book “Many Heads, Arms, and Eyes: Origin, Meaning, and Form of Multiplicity in Indian Art.” The tradition of Hinduism is long, and diverse, so the multiple limbs in one text can mean something very different from the multiple limbs elsewhere. Srinivasan closely examines a vast expanse of Indian history, and I don’t have time to present all her ideas. I would like to specifically focus on the interpretation that multiple limbs represent the manifestations of a singular godhead.

Srinivasan writes that “Multiple versions of a myth are facilitated by the idea that there exists multiple aspects or manifestations of a godhead.” Think of the difference between Greek and Hindu goddesses. Bruno Snell suggests “that these four women signalize the four aspects of all womanhood,” but Srinivasan qualifies his interpretation. The Olympian women “are not multiple forms of [one] Divine Woman, as is the case in Hinduism.” Artemis and Athena are different people who are both women, plural. Parvati, Sati, and Uma together are Woman, singular. Zeus, Demeter, and Poseidon are gods, plural. Shiva, Vishnu, and Krishna are God, singular. That’s not how all Hindus see things, but it is one Hindu perspective that I find especially comparable to K6BD.

Similarly, the multiple bodies are only manifestations of a single God: YISUN. All of his bodies are a single person. In Hinduism, the plurality of the divine can be seen as empowering and liberating. Multiple body parts signify that the god is a well-rounded entity. But Abaddon makes it look like a curse. He turns the artistic convention around. Using the same symbolism and metaphysics, he tells a radically different story. As White Chain says, “Being was only circular.” “YISUN had no equal… It was a wretched life, without meaning or perception. Imagine infinite stories to tell… and nobody to tell them to.” Perfection is lonely. At this point, YISUN is the only thing that exists, and that can’t be fun. All those arms and heads cannot satisfy YISUN’s need for companionship. It’s fascinating to me that when White Chain says YISUN had no one to whom it could tell its stories, Abaddon chose to illustrate multiple heads right next to each other. Even if those heads told each other stories, the speaker and the listener would still be the same person. Dissatisfaction with isolation is why YISUN created the world.

Although not all Hindus follow the school of Advaita Vedanta, in this case, I think it will be helpful to compare and contrast with Advaita. As Ram Shanker Misra writes in “The Integral Advaitism of Sri Aurobindo,” “Brahman [ is] perfect, absolute, infinite, need[s] nothing, [and] desir[es] nothing…” Brahman is full of all perfections. And to say that Brahman has some purpose in creating the world will mean that [Brahman] wants to attain through the process of creation something which it has not. And that is impossible.”

But that’s exactly why YISUN created this world. He wants to gain something that he does not have: companionship.The universe is God’s escape from himself. There was no Genesis, but there was “the first and greatest division: division of self”: “God committed holy suicide.”

2. The Divine Suicide

White Chain’s story is similar to Friedrich Nietzsche’s famous claim that “God is dead,” but Nietzsche did not mean God was a real entity that had literally died. He meant that intellectually, it was impossible to continue believing in God, and that all intellectual achievements founded on belief in Him had to be abandoned. Nietzsche’s claim is a famous example of a philosophical school of thought called death of God theology, also called “theothanatology,” which means “the study of God’s death” in Greek.

“Death” can mean a lot of different things in this context. Sometimes it’s metaphorical, sometimes it’s literal, and usually, it’s a very confusing mixture of both.

Nietzsche proposed the death of God as a social claim about humans. He’s talking about what we can believe, what we should do, and what we need to accept. God never really existed, but as religion loses followers and influence, even the idea of God has begun to “die” because it no longer has power over the real world.

“Death” can also mean God exists, but in a way radically different from what people usually mean when they say “God.” The Rabbi and philosopher Richard L. Rubenstein thought God exists as a “ground of being,” but not as a supernatural entity that made a covenant with Abraham. Rubenstein proposed the death of God as an intellectual change in what humans think the word “God” means.

And, finally, “death” can just literally mean “death.” The Protestant theologian Thomas J.J. Altizer wrote “we shall understand the death of God as an historical event: God has died in our time, in

our history, in our existence.” This isn’t a social claim about humans—it’s a metaphysical claim about God.

Death of God theologians usually mean more than one thing when they say God is dead. Nietzsche wasn’t just trying to convince Christians to become atheists; he was also trying to convince many atheists that they disbelieved in God in the wrong way. Altizer had radical thoughts about what human beings are able to believe.

White Chain means that God is dead in the literal sense. She is proposing a metaphysical belief that God, as a historical figure, chose to actually kill himself. White Chain is not rejecting or critiquing religion—she’s asserting that her religion, in which God has died, is fact.

You can see slight parallels to Nietzsche, Rubenstein, Altizer, Hegel, Zizek, and Blake in White Chain’s version of the fictional religion Atru. But there is no better comparison than the king of sad philosophers Philipp Mainlander.

Mainlander was an atheist—but not in the sense that people usually mean when they say “atheist.” Mainlander believed that there was a God at some time, but that time is now over. There isn’t a God anymore. Mainlander is pretty unique among death of God theologians because he explicitly describes God’s death as a suicide. Whittaker explains that Mainlander thought “[a]ll things have their origin in what may be called… the ‘will’ of the absolute being… to annihilate itself.” Essentially, the cause of the universe is God’s suicidal desires.

God was a “real unity,” but his death caused a “collective unity”—that’s the universe where we live now. God had been a total and undivided One, but now the universe is made of distinct parts. God cut himself apart into the pieces of the universe. God created the world by becoming it, and he became the world by dying.

Mainlander said “the knowledge that life is worthless is the flower of all human knowledge.” He thought suicide was desirable, and ultimately, he put his money where his mouth was. The biggest difference between Mainlander and White Chain is that she doesn’t seem to think ordinary people such as herself should follow God’s suicidal example. Even beyond the views of a specific character, the story of Kill 6 Billion Demons reads as an affirmation of life’s beauty and value.

But the webcomic clearly argues that making a better world is a bloody project. So it should come as no surprise that making the world itself involved bloodshed. First and foremost, the blood of God. What’s so interesting to me is that both White Chain and Mainlander equate God’s suicide to the creation of the world. Our life comes from God’s death. Creation and destruction aren’t opposites—they’re different ways of looking at the same process. At the end of Book 2, Allison destroys Mottom’s evil tree and a lot of her palace—but this destruction is also part of the creation of a more just and free world.

So, what did God’s destruction create? What came after YISUN?

3. The Duality of Un and Yis

The destruction of the total unity creates duality. I know that’s a little confusing because YISUN had many faces, but remember that behind all of those faces was one God, and only one. Not anymore. “From division was birthed duality. White Un, Lord of empty and still places, master of all that is not. Black Yis, infinite mother of the rampant flame. Master of all that is''

I cannot avoid comparing the White and Black gods to the Yin and Yang—a spinning black and white symbol usually associated with the religion Taoism. Yin and Yang represent a cosmic duality. Yin is associated with femininity, darkness, passivity, and even numbers, among other things. Yang is associated with masculinity, light, activity, and odd numbers, among other things. Mainstream Taoist philosophy asserts that the universe can be understood through duality. So, why are these pairs important? And why do things get paired together in the first place?

As is written in the foundational Taoist text the Tao Te Ching, “Being and non-being create each other. Difficult and easy support each other. Long and short define each other. High and low depend on each other. Before and after follow each other.” What’s so interesting about the pairs is they “create,” “support,” “define,” and “depend on” each other. Black can’t exist without white, and white cannot exist without black.

As the Encyclopedia of Philosophy puts it, “...yinyang is emblematic of valuational equality rooted in the unified, dynamic, and harmonized structure of the cosmos. As such, it has served as a heuristic mechanism for formulating a coherent view of the world…” Essentially, neither of these opposites are “dominant” or “truer.” Choosing one side won’t help you understand the universe because the universe is their partnership. Their equality gives “structure to the cosmos.” That structure is order, not chaos, but it is differentiated. There are two different things: Yin and Yang. They contradict each other, but at the same time, they make the universe. Yin and Yang are a productive paradox.

I’d like to return to the notion that “being and non-being create each other.” At this stage of creation in K6BD, UN and YIS could not exist without each other. Their very existence is the fact that they are not a unity. If there was only one of them, then there wouldn’t have been a division—and they are nothing more than the product of division. Just like how being and non-being create each other, the Master of All That Is and the Master of All That Is Not create each other. YISUN was characterized by his totality—he was the total sum of the omniverse, there was nothing else. After the division, Un and Yis experience otherness. The first otherness in the omniverse. It’s difficult for them to find balance—in fact, they immediately went to war for seven years. At the end of their seven-year war, Un and Yis made love for seven days.

I want to be very clear that this is not a depiction of actual Taoism. Yin and Yang are not gods with faces and minds. Notably, the Tao Te Ching asserts that yin and yang are “older than God.” so make of that what you will. But I think Taoism is thematically relevant to this era. Two opposites have to come into balance with each other. The whole universe is a duality of interconnected forces.

K6BD repeatedly emphasizes the need for community. As Allison says at the end of King of Swords, “I couldn’t have done this without any of you… We make mistakes. We learn from each other. We all still have so much to learn. Once I saw that as a weakness, now I’m certain it’s not. Someone who lives still thinking like that… struggling to do everything themselves… I can’t help but think how alone they must be.”

YISUN had to do everything all by himself, and we saw that Allison was right—isolation was a struggle, even for God. But the struggle is over, and in its place is duality. Partnership. The first community.

These are the first four parts of a fourteen-part critical essay. You can read the rest here.

Bibliography is on the free Patreon post.

#patreon #nate's writing #original post

30 notes · View notes

shoujo-wizard · 2 months

Text

thoughts on Lisa Frankenstein? loved it, adored it, need to see it again & again & again

spoiler thoughts below the cut

the fact tht Lisa adores silent films & the creature spends the entire movie unable to speak

the skill it takes as an actor to portray your character without your voice, I gotta give it up to Cole Sprouse even if I can never forget the social experiment incident

the way she runs into his arms at the end & the way he looks at her as he finally finally gets to hold her

the piano scene is one of those scenes tht gets to me upon thinking abt it for awhile, here he is in a strange world with an enchanting & strange girl he's falling in love with, she's given him an ear & now a hand, & he sees the piano & he sees sheet music & those two things haven't changed in the hundred years he'd been dead music hadn't truly changed beyond recognition he could still play

the way she drops the ax & runs into his arms & the way he catches her & holds her so tenderly as she declares his love for her & she returns it & the way he looks at her the entire time he holds her makes me weak

damn u Cole Sprouse ur a handsome man & those Victorian sideburns rlly work for u

tht entire love scene, it's so tender & sweet & loving & twisted in the context of the movie, then it's followed by her showing eternal devotion as well as declaring it as his wife with her burning alive suicide resurrection plan so tht she could truly b w him

Lisa/Creature is a love for the ages

the movies also good bc it is a teen slasher it's just from the perspective of the surprise villain, we even have a final girl covered in blood wandering back to civilization forever changed by what she's seen & experienced

#shoujo says #lisa frankenstein

26 notes · View notes

cdragons · 3 months

Text

"La Vie En Rose" - Ikaris x Eternal!Reader

Summary: You and Ikaris are finally ready to take a big step in your relationship. The two of you hare details about yourselves to really show how much you two have loved one another throughout your entire existence and since the failed Emergence.

Warning(s): MDNI 18+, very heavy smut in the beginning, loss of virginity, Persephone!Reader/Sephia is demisexual, spoilers, talk of WW2 and its aftermath, mention of suicide, Druig and Kaety are mentioned, almost character death, author tries to talk about music but has no musical background

Author's Notes: I think this might be the longest Ikaris oneshot ever on Tumblr, with a whopping 9.2k word count. For context, I would go to this masterlist, and read the very first post. I would like to thank Grammarly for making sure I don't write like a hill-billy. A huge thanks to @ethereal-athalia for her help. A lot of these ideas could not have been done without her input. I hope y'all have a wonderful Valentine's Day! I also plan to make a Valentine's Day for Druig x Hecate!Reader

Inside the Ritz’s Suite Chopin in Paris, clothes were sprawled across the room. Your dress had pooled on the ground where Ikaris zipped it off you as soon as the door closed. His suit jacket and tie had been removed before you two entered the room. Despite how frantic your movements may have seemed on the outside, you and your lover knew that this moment had been long overdue.

The blue rings in his eyes thinned as his pupils widened at the sight of your strapless bra with its matching lacy cheeky-cut underwear and garter belt. After you ripped his dress shirt and buttons flew across the room, you marveled at the mass of muscle and heavenly skin by softly revering his body with your touch.

You traced every scar and line on his body as if handling a priceless painting. Ikaris sharply hissed at the feeling of your feather touch ghosting over his body. He responded by lifting you in his arms and wrapping your legs above his hips while he kept a firm grip on your soft, ample bottom. He felt your muscles tense before relaxing, and your body melted into his embrace as if the two of you were bodies were born to be together.

“I love you,” he whispered with each kiss he pressed on your skin. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“Ikaris,” you panted, “don’t stop. Please don’t ever stop.”

Trailing kisses down your neck, your lover never took his lips off yours as he carried you across the living room to the boudoir covered with pomegranate flowers. Laying your body gently on the goose feather duvets, Ikaris stood utterly captivated by how your hair framed your face like an ethereal halo.

The sight was nothing short of heavenly.

The luminosity of the moonlight shining through the overhead window gave your form a celestial glow. Your divine figure, added with the contrast of colors from the blossoms on the stark bedspread, made him wonder if this was all a wonderful dream instead of his cruel reality.

Sensing his fear that you were only an illusion, you sat up and took Ikaris’ hand from his side to press a gentle kiss on his palm.

“Ikaris, I am here. I am with you. We are together – now and forever, forever and always.”

Overwhelmed with happiness, your immortal paramour felt a mountainous burden topple down as the relief of knowing this moment was not a figment of his imagination. His Adam’s apple bobbed as tears welled up in his iridescent blue irises.

Ikaris brought his other hand to cup your other cheek before lowering himself to plant a feathery kiss on your forehead. He closed his eyes – savoring the feel of your skin on his lips as he tried to memorize the scent of your hair with the fragrance of the pomegranate flowers surrounding you.

“Ikaris,” you softly begged, “please kiss me.”

And who was he to refuse such a sweet request?

Pressing his lips to yours, Ikaris felt you lower yourself until your back was fully pressed against the bedspreads underneath them. No matter how much his lungs clenched for air, he refused to part for even a breath of air. But you softly pushed him back. Ikaris opened his eyes – prepared to ask if you needed to stop. But he stopped himself at the sight of your lust-filled eyes with the blush on the apple of your cheeks. You reached behind your back and unclasped the hooks of your brassiere before removing the rest of your undergarments.

Time slowed down frame by frame as Ikaris watched you further reveal yourself to him. A part of your hair fell forward to cover your breasts as you lowered your head and fixated on your gaze on the silky scarlet petal of the flower you rubbed between your fingers. Scars and marks dotted your body from battles between deviants in the past. Ikaris knew he was the only man you let see so much.

You sighed as you couldn’t help but feel like shrinking into the shadows as he stared.

“I don’t…I know I’m not as pretty as most of the women you’ve slept with. My body is a bit…, and I’m not as willowy and lovely as Kaety or Sersi. Even Thena is so beautiful and strong. My hips have a weird dip and –” You felt like crying for ruining the moment. “I’m making this so awkward – I’m so sorry.”

Ikaris quietly sat across you for a moment. Then he tipped your chin, and you were forced to look at his stern expression but heated gaze.

“Sephia, your body…it’s lovely. There isn’t a woman or creature more beautiful than you.”

You scoffed inelegantly, but Ikaris shook his head.

“I’m serious. Sephia, I – everything about you is so mind-bogglingly wonderous and beautiful. I have thought so since we first met on the Domo. Who could possibly have given you the idea otherwise?”

You leaned into his chest and let out a deep sigh. “It was no one in particular. I just noticed that men continually gawked at my chest whenever we settled into a new location. They would always stare when I wasn’t looking. Sometimes, when they were drunk, they would tug on my dress and comment that I was either too big or too small. It’s why I preferred to wear their clothing. I thought I attracted too much attention from my Olympian Attire, so I hoped to be noticed less in their garbs. I tried telling Ajak, but she told me not to pay attention to their actions since they were only curious. But it didn’t stop until I told Kaety.”

Hearing your explanation, Ikaris’ hold on you tightened. Once more, he was in your friend’s debt. How dare those lowly men cause you so much strife? Had he known of your troubles, he would have ensured that those fools feared for their lives. But he knew if you were aware of his thoughts, it would only push you away – so he remained quiet.

Instead, he planted a gentle kiss on both of your cheeks and whispered to you how honored he was for this moment. His hands caressed your thighs, and he had your legs straddled on his hips as he made sure you were comfortable on his lap. He let you take the lead by wrapping your arms over his shoulders and groaned at the feeling of you pressing his chest against your bare bust.

The way he moaned your name made your stomach clench. “Sephia. Thank you. I will show you how beautiful to me– tonight and every night from now on if you’ll permit me.”

You nodded your head against the crook of his neck. You didn’t trust your voice to convey your love for the man with you tonight.

But Ikaris needed more. “Say it, Sephia. Look me in the eye and tell me if you want us to continue.”

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your head to show your trust. “I want you to continue.”

Bringing you in for a heated kiss, Ikaris and you explored each other’s bodies with your hands as your lips were locked in a familiar embrace. He then trails kisses down your chin and travels down your neck and across the tops of your breasts. You wondered if he could hear how hard your heart was beating against the confines of your rib cage as you panted for air.

Ikaris used one hand to cup one of your flushed breasts covered in love bites and kisses. On the other, he put his mouth on your puckered nipple and swirled his tongue around the areola.

You slowly rocked your hips and whispered for more. “Ikaris, Ikaris, Ikaris – more, more, please.”

Your body was his paradise, and you were his angel. Everything about you – the perfume of your skin, the silky luster of your hair, the addictive scent of your arousal – it was both all too much and never enough.

Switching breasts to continue his services, Ikaris wondered if he could get you to cum without directly touching you down there. He felt emboldened by the challenge with the breathless praises spilling from your lips that were swollen and red from his kisses.

He traveled down to your navel while continuing to trace his tongue and lips across your skin until he stopped at your navel. Dipping his tongue into your navel region, your initial reaction was a giggle, but then he used both of his hands to reach for your abandoned mounds to massage them. The rough calluses on his fingers gave way to new sensations unbeknownst to you, making your laughter change to moans.

Arching your back, you called out his name with your sweet voice. “Ikaris- Ikaris! It’s too…it’s too much!”

As you arched your back, you pushed your chest further into his hands. He tendered cupped them before giving them a hard squeeze and then used his fingers to pinch your nipples. Twisting and tugging them brought tears to your eyes as the pleasure from the attention he granted to your bosom with the swirling of his tongue in your navel.

The feel of Ikaris’ hot tongue contrasting with the cooling spit from his saliva only added to your rapture. You felt your stomach tighten into an invisible coil as you clawed and grasped onto the bed covers to ground you. The coil became tighter and tighter until your lips started to tremble as your core clenched around nothing, and your mouth opened to let out no noise as your vision went white. Your body squirmed, and you clamped your legs to unsuccessfully quell the sensations.

Ikaris’ mouth traveled down to your nether lips as he removed his hands from your breasts to spread your legs and put them over his shoulders. Although the sight of the Eternals’ strongest fighter between your legs was certainly an arousing view, you couldn't contain snorting at the absurdity of it all.

Your cerulean-eyed beloved raised a quizzical brow to showcase his offended feelings.

“And what, pray tell, do you find so amusing right now, flower?” he asked in a monotone voice.

“I’m sorry-” you couldn’t stop laughing “-I’m so sorry – I just never imagined being in this situation with you – with anyone.”

He gave you a flat look for you to continue.

You went on with your explanation. “For so long, I have never felt this way. You- you aren’t the first person I’ve been with – romantically, at least – but I could never feel myself wanting to go further. It always felt like something was stopping me. For so long, I thought something was wrong with me. And then, after talking with Kaety and Phastos, I thought I might be asexual. But it hadn’t been until those moments we spent in the field outside the village that I- I felt a bond transform from friendship to what I didn’t realize to be love to- to this.”

You stopped laughing and lifted your torso on one elbow to reach him. You cupped his face with one hand, and Ikaris nuzzled his face into your palm – welcoming the feel of your silky touch. In your eyes, there was enough love to make the world outside this room disappear.

“I haven’t felt this way for anyone but you. It was such an unexpected surprise, but I wasn’t scared. I think it was because- well, despite everything, I never felt unsafe around you. Ikaris, the years I spent with you after Thanos’ Snap and before the Emergence were some of the happiest years of my life. I don’t think there are words to describe how much I love you.”

It was only when you stroked your thumb on his cheek that Ikaris realized he was crying. As Ajak’s most trusted and loyal soldier, he had an image of stability to maintain. Before his suicide attempt in flying to the sun, he could count the number of times he cried throughout his life on one hand.

The first was when a deviant managed almost to sever his spine. The pain was so terrible. It took the efforts of Ajak and Kaetlyn to stop him from bleeding out and close the gash, but not without a garish scar across his back.

The second was when you left him and what remained of the team after Kaetlyn and Druig left in response to the genocide of Tenochtitlan citizens from Spanish conquistadors. He was hurt and felt betrayed. He called you weak and naïve to believe that you, Kaet, and Druig had better judgment than Arishem for humanity’s future. While your leaving broke his heart, his sobbing resulted from the pained look on your face from his words. He cried for three days after your departure.

The third time was after he killed Ajak. It broke his heart to kill the one he admired and followed for so long. She wanted to stop the Emergence and stop Arishem’s Grand Design of the birth of a new Celestial. But to do so was to condemn you to a slow and painful death, and Ajak knew that. The Avengers destroyed your regained health when they brought back the rest of humanity.

Ikaris knew that destroying the planet you loved so much would have brought you more pain than your illness, but it was humanity that weakened you so much from the beginning. If the Emergence must occur, Ikaris was sure he could ask Ajak to convince Arishem to allow him to keep his memories. If he had, he would have been able to love you from the beginning of everyone’s rebirth.

But he failed, and it nearly cost him you and your sister. The memory Druig implanted in his mind would haunt him forever. It was so unnatural to see Kaety so lifeless, so cold. The sight and Aisling’s screams with Laoise’s cries made it worse.

The fourth was when he stood before Sersi as her frame kneeled atop Tiamut’s emerging body. You lay unconscious as you allowed your new leader to use your cosmic energy to kill the infant Celestial but also to use your body as a medium to use the Celestial’s infinite amount of cosmic energy to revitalize the Earth. Standing in front of his sister as she kneeled next to your body, Sersi was ready to accept her death at her brother’s hand. But Ikaris could not steel his resolve to aim his heat vision at her heart.

He could not kill his sister – not when she was the one person he could ever love as much as he does you. She was the only person who trusted more than anyone in the world. She knew all his secrets and was the first to realize his love for you.

Just as Kaetlyn was your sister, Sersi was his. And so all he could do was let himself be used to destroy Tiamut, give one final goodbye to his sister, and give you one final kiss before he flew to the sun.

Your voice broke him from his thoughts. “Ikaris? Are you all right?”

“Yes, flower,” he answered with a smile. “Thank you.”

“‘Thank you?’ Whatever for?” Your confused expression was so utterly adorable.

“Everything, I suppose,” he said while shrugging. “Sephia, you said you never imagined making love to anyone for thousands of years. But for me, it was all I could think about with you. As I said that night on the balcony, ‘I was made to love you.’ And I will say these words and show you how much I mean them for however long you permit me.”

Your heart sang out to his at his sweet words. You reached to pull him down for a kiss before whispering in his ear.

“Ikaris, will you make love to me?”

“Yes,” came his immediate answer. “But first, I must prepare you.”

“Has that not been what you’ve been doing so far?”

Your immortal worshiper gave you a lascivious grin in response. “My petal, this had only been the beginning.”

Your hands clenched his hair in a feeble attempt to get him to ease Ikaris’ feasting. But all your actions brought were him spreading your legs further apart. The feeling of his tongue flitting over your clit as he drove fingers to furiously thrust inside your cervix to the point of making you weep in ecstasy.

It started with one, then it became two. Soon, he added the third, and the pain from the stretch quickly drove you to a state of nymphomania. It didn’t take long for you to reach your peak, and it was far more intense than its predecessor. You felt your body spasm for a little bit before relaxing into the mattress as Ikaris languidly stroked your walls to carry out your climax for as long as possible.

This wasn’t the first time he had eaten you out, but it was the first time he could do so without interruptions.

As your essence spilled on his tongue, Ikaris let out an obtusely loud, close-mouthed groan, and its vibrations added to your overstimulation. Your body’s nectar was ambrosia worthy to be tasted only by gods. It was addictive enough for an Eternal such as himself to get drunk on it and crave its taste for all eternity.

He removed himself from the bed before frantically unbuckling his belt and stripping himself of his black slacks and boxer briefs. The way his shaft sprung out and its head hit Ikaris’ naval region made your eyes widen. It must have been around eight inches long, and the sight of it made you unconsciously clamp your legs close. It was pulsing dark pink with veins running along its length, and its head looked so swollen and red that it neared to purplish hue with a pearly white bead of precum leaking out.

You’ve seen corpses and anatomical diagrams. Kaety was the more explicit one out of the two of you. She had no qualms sharing even the most graphic details of Druig’s…thing.

But this was the first time you saw it in person, and you didn’t realize men could be so…big.

“Does it hurt…being like that?” you hesitantly asked as you reached forward to touch it. But he softly grasped your hand from getting too close.

Ikaris chuckled at your innocence. “It doesn’t hurt per se, but it is very sensitive. And if you touch it, I cannot promise you that I will last long enough to enjoy it.”

Kneeling on the bed, he carefully grabbed his length and positioned it just outside your soaking womanhood.

He cupped your cheek and brought your eyes to him. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? Don’t think about me. Do you want this?”

Looking into his eyes, you drowned in the overwhelming sea of love that was his beautiful blue eyes. You admit you still felt a twinge of fear. But more than fear, more than lust and desire, you felt safe. What you shared with Ikaris was more than how you ever hoped to feel with someone. It was real – what you shared with this man was true and went beyond physical attraction. Your bond with him had only grown stronger since his return; nothing would ever change that.

“I’m ready,” you whispered as you felt the increasing rate of your heartbeat. “I love you, Ikaris. With all of me.”

He positioned his cock until its head had just entered you. You sharply sucked in a breath.

“I’ll do my best to make it as painless as possible. Take a deep breath if you need to. I won’t move until you feel like you’ve adjusted to it. We can go as slow or as fast as you want. I promise.”

“I know,” you replied. “I trust you.”

He gently pushed himself inside you inch-by-inch. The stretch of your walls around his manhood was almost painful. He was halfway inside you when you asked him to pause with two thin trails of tears running down your eyes.

“I just -” you gasped, “- I just need a minute.”

Ikaris softly stroked your cheek before catching a tear under your eye. “It’s okay. Take all the time you need.”

When you nodded to show you were ready, Ikaris continued to insert himself inside you until he fully bottomed out slowly. When he reached his hilt, he let out a mighty groan and husky rasp as you took a sharp and loud intake of breath. Despite how well-lubricated you were, the stretching of your cervix to accommodate his size was more than you expected. Thankfully, your lover did not move for the sake of you being able to adjust to the feel of him inside your tight walls.

Ikaris propped himself on one of his elbows as he hovered above you. He bit the inside of his cheek to hold back his moans, but the feeling of him being swallowed by your warmth was more euphoric than he could ever dream it to be. He lowered his head enough to kiss away the tears from your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered so sweetly. “This discomfort will pass, my love. I will not move until you are ready.”

Thank the stars he prepped you earlier. If he hadn’t, you weren’t sure you would have been able to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. It was the strangest sensation. You felt so full – as evidenced by the slight bulge protruding from your lower stomach – but the fullness was almost comforting.

It was evidence that you and your love joined bodies and became one.

You slowly wrapped your legs around Ikaris’ waist. Despite the discomfort, you wanted to feel as close and connected to the beautiful man hovering above you as possible. Soon, the pain lessened to a sting, and it dulled further before shifting to pleasure. It was not long before you craved the friction from Ikaris’ shaft moving inside you and slowly began grinding your hips against him to ease the ache inside you.

Ikaris could feel the fluttering of your cervix and your walls becoming more slick from your increasing arousal. Feeling your hips moving against him, he couldn’t stop the teasing leer at your squirming and the soft moans and whimpers leaving your lips.

“Does it feel good? I wonder how it would feel if I did this–” he pushed his hips to give a shallow thrust and reveled at the way your back was so beautifully arched.

Your cries were no longer laced with pain but adorned with shock from the unexpected pleasure.

“Oh? You like that?” he chuckled in smug amusement. “Fuck, your body is so responsive. You have no idea how much your sweet cries add to my ego.”

“I-Ikaris!” you stammered as you frantically moved your hips. “Please!”

“Please what, my flower?” he teased. “You know I can’t do anything until you provide explicit instructions.”

You wailed in frustration. “You know what I mean, you cruel man! I-I need you to m-move! I want to feel everything! PLEASE!”

Throwing all inhibitions to the wind, Ikaris gave you precisely what you wanted by giving hard, powerful drives. The squelch of your folds from each thrust was downright sinful and caused you to cry out his name. The slapping of his hips against your thighs, coupled with his gruff grunts and your high-pitched mewls, made for the most erotic symphony.

You felt so embarrassed by your reactions, but there was no use in holding back your reactions. You put your arm over your eyes to maintain some semblance of dignity, but Ikaris pinned it down to the side of your head. You opened your eyes to see if your lover was as out of control as you.

You were shocked to see how nearly black his eyes were, with almost no evidence of his lapis-lazuli irises. His lips had a thin, wet sheen of film covering them, and his hair was wholly tousled and unkempt from his usual militant style – a result of you running your fingers through it and yanking it.

“Oh no, don’t you dare cover your face,” he rasped. “I’ve waited for this moment for seven thousand years. All those years of watching those men stare at you with lustful eyes – every soldier, king, even fucking Thor. And I couldn’t do a damn thing about it – what right did I have to do so? But tonight- tonight, I ensure that you will never want anyone else but me.”

You shook your head. “No…only you- I only want you, Ikaris. I swear!”

“Gods, you’re so beautiful,” he cooed. “You feel so perfect – gripping me so tight. Do you feel as good as I do, my flower? Can you feel how I was made for you? As you were made for me? Can you feel how greedy your cunt is for me – I fit so perfectly inside you.”

The euphoria between you two reached such a crescendo that your bodies were frantically rocking against each other at an erratic tempo. You reached forward to cling onto his shoulders as you brought him in a close embrace. The only thing that mattered to you was the man above you and the love overflowing between you. The only thing that mattered to Ikaris was the feeling of you under him and knowing this wasn’t a dream.

The rest of the world disappeared, and the noise from the festivities of the City of Lights became white noise. The only sounds you could register in your lust-hazy mind were Ikaris’ hoarse groans and hushed gasps. The only sounds Ikaris could hear while in his bliss-intoxicated state were your breathless whimpers and sharp cries.

The two of you looked less like the gods humanity regaled in myths and legends and more akin to wild beasts. The sight of your legs tightly wrapped around Ikaris’ waist and the vulgar rings of the slapping of skin from him pounding into you was sinful. The feel of your full and soft breasts rubbing against his hard pecs only heightened the pleasure.

The familiar coil in your stomach returned, and its intensity was reaching a point of almost unbearable pleasure. All you could do was continue to cling to your lover with your nails dragging down his back as he continued to slam into you. Ikaris cursed under his breath at the feeling of your nails scraping long red marks on the skin of his back. He felt your walls start to tighten to show that you were reaching your peak. He increased his tempo to a relentless pace as he felt your walls continue to grip him.

With his newfound vigor, you became all the more aware of how he dragged each and every inch of his cock in and out of you. Your cunt wept at the way his new pace made you stretch even wider to accommodate for all of him. His rough patch of curls around the base of his cock hitting your swollen clit made your mind go blank.

“Ikaris!” you wailed. “Slow – slow down! I think – I think I’m going to – oh, FUCK!”

“Let go, Sephia,” Ikaris grunted. “I want to feel your cunt gripping my cock. I want to feel your walls creaming around me as your womb begs for my cum to fill so much that it leaks.”

Refusing to part from you, he snaked his arm to the space between your legs to press your swollen clit. The pressure from his fingers pinching your nub broke the dam inside you as your juices sprayed and soaked Ikaris’ manhood and naval region. Your back arched, and your legs trembled while the rest of your body pathetically spasmed from the intensity of your release. Your vision went white, and your mind was filled with blissful static as drool dribbled out of your mouth, hanging open at the sheer shock from the release of pressure.

When you came around him, Ikaris gripped the sheets so hard that he heard a faint rip as he felt a mass of textiles clump in his hand. If the fluttering of your cunt was heavenly, then the feeling of your walls clenching so hard around him as you sprayed your essence around him was euphoria. Using both hands, he unhooked your legs around his waist and spread them wide apart until your feet dangled by his head. The new position allowed him to reach so deep in you that he felt the tip of his shaft hitting the entrance of your womb.

He chased the end of his release as you senselessly babbled – your mind was too far gone from your climax, and all you could do was take all of him until he was done himself. It was not long until he felt his body tense, and he thrust himself into you to the hilt and came with a thunderous shout that echoed with your loud cries. The shift of all his weight ramming into the warm and wet hole that greedily latched onto him brought you a new sensation so pleasurable that it rocked on the edge of pain. The spilling of his hot seed inside your womb made you further cling onto him as tears streamed down your cheeks – as if melding your bodies into one being.

Ikaris completely let go of all of his tensions as he lay on top of you – panting for air. Your heart was racing as you tried to catch your breath. For a few minutes, the two of you only wanted to bask in the feel of you together in the aftermath of your lovemaking.

Not wanting to crush you with his weight, Ikaris gently tried to pry himself off you. He thought it would be best to grab a wet rag to help clean you or at least give you some water, but you refused to let go.

“I like feeling you inside me,” you whispered, your voice was a bit hoarse from your screams and cries.

His voice sounded more gruff than usual as he chuckled. “You shouldn’t say such things unless you’re prepared for another round. And by the looks of it, I think you’ve had enough for one night – especially for your first time.”

Ikaris stroked your cheek as he smiled at the sight of you. Your hair was tousled, and your skin was flushed to a lovely hue. There was not a patch of your neck that was not completely littered with red splotches from his bites and kisses. Your eyes were wet from the tears that streamed down your cheeks, and there was a small trail of drool from your mouth.

You were the very image of erotic perfection – only to ever be seen by him.

“…Was it good?” he hesitantly asked. “How do you feel?”

“I feel…at peace,” you replied after a few moments of thinking. “I don’t really feel any different from before. I certainly wouldn’t object to doing it again. But I just feel…content- and happy. Does that make sense?”

You felt your love’s feather-soft lips press against your hairline. “Yes, it does. But are you sure you don’t want to clean yourself? I know your thighs will feel…sticky in the morning if we don’t wipe it off.”

You shook your head. “No, I just want you here with me.”

“At least let me get you a glass of water,” he reasoned. “Believe me when I say you’ll be grateful for it in the morning.”

“Fine,” you relented with a pout. “Hurry back.”

He lowly chuckled as he lowered himself to plant a soft kiss on your temple.

When Ikaris returned with your water, he found you bundled under a cocoon of the bed’s sheets and covers. Shaking his head in amusement, he placed the glass on the nightstand on your side of the mattress. He carefully lifted the covers, not to wake you from your well-deserved slumber, and crawled under them before gently shifting your body in his arms.

As Ikaris closed his eyes and felt the beckoning lull of slumber reach him, he swore he could hear the tune of a trumpet blowing as a rich timber voice sang a familiar song that held a special place in his heart.

Quand il me prend dans ses bras Qu'il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose

With a peaceful smile on his face, Ikaris dreamt of a dear memory. It happened in Paris only over seventy years ago. He recalls the day he first heard the phrase ‘rose-colored glasses’ as if it were only yesterday. Unbeknownst to him, you were playing the same memory in your sleep.

Paris in February 1948 was a less-than-ideal time. The weather was dismal, and the air was filled with smog and cigarette smoke. The snow surrounding him more resembled ash blown from a forest fire than frozen ice particles falling from the heavens. People were still hurting from the losses they suffered in the war. The industry was ruined, food was severely rationed, and housing was in short supply. The once luminescent City of Lights and her people were living in misery.

But Ikaris’ longing to see you was greater than his misery.

You had been visiting the graves of soldiers and victims across France every February since the signing of the Paris Peace Treaties in 1947. While there were thousands of unmarked graves, you knew the names of each fallen soldier and nameless body. The Earth whispered each person's tale as their blood spilled to the ground. You would breathe their name to a single red poppy before laying the bloom on the ground. It was too little while also being too late, but you wanted to show your thanks.

Your heart ached at the thought of anyone crossing over without someone remembering them. You walked these hallowed grounds because these brave men and women had fought for that privilege. You walked to honor and thank them.

It was what Kaety and Phastos would have wanted. It was what James would have wanted.

Feeling a sudden shift in the air, you did not need to look to know who had joined you.

“Hello, Ikaris,” you greeted your friend while still kneeling on the ground. “What brings you here?”

“I just wanted to see you,” he replied. “Is that not what friends do?”

You bitterly laughed under your breath. You finally stood from the ground to face your old “friend.” It hurt to see how beautiful he remained despite how he impassively stared at you – as if you meant nothing to him.

“Are we still friends?” you asked. “After everything?”

If your questions hurt him, Ikaris had not let it be shown. But he at least had the decency to soften his tone and look down at his feet, slightly admonished.

“I suppose I deserve that,” he answered. He looked up to face you once more. “Sephia, I…I missed you.”

A new wave of tears threatened to spill as you scoffed at his words.

“Cruel man,” you inwardly wept. “Cruel, cruel man.”

“Forgive me for my reaction,” you scornfully replied. “But I find that a bit hard to believe, considering how we left things between us last time.”

The last time you had seen Ikaris was over fifty years ago when he visited you in the small open field outside Kaety and Druig’s commune. It was your usual meeting place for the past two centuries. It was close enough to the village that Kaety still felt your presence but far enough to ensure your meeting remained private.

The first time he came, you were so happy to see Ikaris. You were terrified at the idea of him forever hating you for joining Kaety and Druig in seclusion. He had criticized you for going against Arishmen’s orders. He told you it mattered little of what you and Kaety did – humanity was doomed to fail.

The last you heard from Kingo was that Ikaris had disappeared from Earth. No one had seen him since Ajak sent all of you away – not even Sersi or Sprite.

His reaching out to you over everyone else meant so much to you. Perhaps it was selfish, but it made you happy to know your talks and meetings with Ikaris were done without anyone’s knowledge. Not even Kaety knew of his presence. You two would talk about the world that was changing around them while reminiscing about the world that had passed.

With each talk, you felt your bond with your friend strengthen. With each meeting, your attachment to Ikaris became more profound as you often craved to see him just hours after he left. Your feelings grew to the point where you could no longer contain them. It felt like you had laid your entire heart on the line.

“Would you stay here?” you softly asked. “Would you stay here with me?”

And then he left, leaving you in the field by yourself.

“Did you hate the idea–” you hastily inhaled to stop your voice from breaking “– of staying here so much? Could you really have not found any joy in what I do here for those people?”

Ikaris reached out to hold you in his arms.

“No,” he whispered in your hair. “No, Flower, that’s not it. I swear… I swear that’s not it.”

He should not have come. If he were a better man, he would have let you hate him until you could forget him. But he knew you were alone, and his selfishness won out in the end.

“Then why?” you cried. His shirt muffled your words, but your voice broke his heart. “Why did you leave? Why didn’t you come back? Every year, I waited in that field! Because I thought our friendship meant something to you! But you never came!”

“Sephia,” he explained, “I could have never been who you needed me to be for those villagers. I have nothing to offer them but my combat skills.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you tell him. “Everything you told me that night – you were right. It doesn’t matter what any of us do. Humans will destroy everything themselves. Just look where we are now.”

You and he looked at the thousands of white crosses that stood from the ground. You still had nightmares about the bodies surrounding you as hundreds of soldiers entered your tents – only to pass away from their fatal injuries. So many graves without names were men and women you treated before you had to bury them.

Kaety still woke up every night screaming at the horrors and abuse of the victims of Unit 731. What remained of the records of Ishii Shiro and his use of anthrax and the plague as biological warfare would haunt her for the rest of her life. Her thrashing had almost gotten to the point where she ordered Druig to sedate her if she ever accidentally hurt herself or him.

Phastos was practically left in a continuous catatonic state after leaving the site of the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. But during the times he came back, he could only weep out apologies to the millions of victims for his interference with humanity’s technology from the beginning.

“Was everything we thought we were building for nothing?” you asked. “Was this planet and its people doomed from the start?”

Ikaris only stood silently. He wondered if he was more cruel not to tell you the truth of Arishem’s grand plan after Ajak told him so long ago. But he wanted to see your smile for however long he had left. You were so proud of your creations, and rightfully so. Not knowing what else to do, he figured to let his actions speak more than his words.

“Can I show you something?”

He took you in his arms when you nodded. He lifted the two of you to a dark alley in Paris next to the Seine. The lights surrounding them with the people walking along the river bank made the night cold winter night less cold and desolate than the hopelessness you felt in your heart.

It was a pretty sight, but the view couldn’t have been the only reason why Ikaris brought you here.

“Look around you.” He spread his arms to emphasize his point. “What do you see?”

“…Litter and pollution?”

“Besides that.”

You tried to look harder. “Ummmm…people?”

“Exactly, people who are alive. A florist who sells flowers in the spring to young lovers because she wants to share the fruits of your labor with the world. Families who tour the Gardens of Versailles because they want to bask in the splendor.”

You understood Ikaris’ point. You were the one who tried to explain it all to him for so long, but everything seemed so hopeless now.

“Sephia,” he spoke your name to break you from your thoughts. “What you brought into this world was not for nothing. It never was. You are why people can find beauty and joy in the simplest pleasures.”

You wanted to say something – anything. But words failed to come to you. They always had during the most important events. Suddenly, you heard the melody of one of France’s favorite songs creep into your ear. You felt your Ikaris softly grasp your hand as he gently led the two of you to the direction of the melody.

It was a mixed jazz band playing in the middle of a packed Place Vendôme. They were playing La Vie En Rose.

The symphony of clarinets and flutes made for a beautiful melody. The saxophone altos, French horn, and trombone gave the song a homophonic texture. But the real star of the ensemble was the trumpet. It added a sense of joy and lightheartedness that so deeply contrasted the past decade.

“A favorite demon of yours told me this song was all the rage in France a few ago,” he quipped. “Care to show me why?”

You rolled your eyes. “You really need to stop calling Kaety that. She’ll bite your head off for being unable to think of a new nickname after seven thousand years.”

Ikaris took a few steps forward before turning to you and held out his hand. You only stared at it before realizing the meaning of his gesture. You stared at his face with wide eyes and a gaped mouth to represent your shock.

“You,” you choked out, “want to dance? In the middle of the square?”

Ikaris only shrugged. “Why not?”

“But…but, there’s just – there’s so many people around!” you stammered.

“That’s never stopped you before in Reykjanesskagi.”

“That was during the Maiden’s Day festival!”

“You know, you’re starting to hurt my feelings with how long you’ve kept my arm like this.”

You huffed out a breath in annoyance before you reluctantly reciprocated the gesture. Ikaris must have known that you wouldn’t refuse a dance, especially a dance to one of your favorite songs. You hated bringing attention to yourself, but you loved to dance. You didn’t know what it was – but you could always lose yourself in the notes as your body moved in tandem with the tune. Whenever there was a festival or celebration in any city where the Eternals were stationed, you and Kaety would disguise yourselves as peasants or low-born nobility to fade into the background. So often, you would lose yourself in joy that you would accidentally make flowers bloom around you, even in the harshest winters.

Des yeux qui font baisser les miens Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche Voilà le portrait sans retouches De l'homme auquel j'appartiens

Ikaris pulled you close to his chest. One hand was placed on the small of your back while one of your hands clutched on his shoulder. But the other was firmly clasped in his other hand. Before you began, you saw a few other pairs sway to the band. It eased your nerves to know that you and he were the only pair dancing in the historical square.

Quand il me prend dans ses bras Qu'il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose

Il me dit des mots d'amour Des mots de tous les jours Et ça m'fait quelque chose

Everyone around you seemed to be dancing in slow, expressive, rhythmic steps, resembling an American-style bolero. Given the time and place, it was only natural that Ikaris took the lead. You were prepared to offer instructions, but he surprised you again by showing how comfortable he was in the role and steps.

“I didn’t know you could dance,” you remarked.

Ikaris looked slightly embarrassed as his cheeks reddened. “Sersi taught me. She basically threatened to castrate me if I refused to dance at a speakeasy we frequented in New York in the 20s.”

“Sersi?” you snorted out as he spun and dipped you. “Sersi threatened you? Our Sersi? Lying is a very unbecoming quality, Ikaris. I didn’t think you’d be one to develop it.”

“Oh, if only I could make up such a tale,” replied Ikaris as he grabbed your waist before lifting you without struggle. “Sersi’s can be downright terrifying if she wants to be. Ask Kingo – he’s the only other person who’s seen her like that.”

You couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling out of your throat. And as the band continued to play, you and Ikaris swayed, dipped, and spun for hours. Over three hours had passed by the time the band was finished for the night. When you stopped, all you could do was stare into your friend’s eyes in a rose-hued haze before a thunderous round of applause broke you out of your dreamlike state and into reality. A sizable crowd had surrounded the two of you – hoots, hollers, and whistles accompanied the applause. Your impromptu performance enchanted men, women, children, and even pets.

“Bisou!” called out from a random face in the crowd. It wasn’t long before the call became a chant.

“Bi-sou! Bi-sou! Bi-sou! Bi-sou!”

Feeling suddenly emboldened, you cupped your Ikaris’ face and kissed his cheek softly. The following whistles and cheers would have made you wish to disappear – had it not been for the sweet peck Ikaris placed between the furrow of your brow.

All of a sudden- without even knowing it at the time- the world seemed brighter, and the air started to smell like roses.

Ikaris woke up to the feeling of gentle poking on his cheek. Hearing the swallows sing and feeling the warm sunlight on his skin, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so at peace. He turned his body in your direction before opening his eyes. He was immediately blessed with your bright eyes and sweet smile. Raking his eyes down your body, it looked like you wore his dress shirt from last night.

He adored the way it draped over your curves – especially with how it showed off your legs.

“Are you ready for your Valentine’s Day present?” you asked with poorly contained excitement. Judging by how your smile went ear-to-ear, you practically bounced out of your skin.

Ikaris furrowed his brows in puzzlement. “Was last night not my present?”

You rolled your eyes. “Why would sex be your present? I thought I made it pretty clear that I hadn’t expected the night to turn in that direction.”

“Well then,” he chucked in amusement over your flushed cheeks and pout, “what is my present?”

Your eyes shone in delight as you lightly kicked your feet against the mattress. “You’ll have to get out of bed for that! Come on!”

You dashed into the next room while Ikaris wrapped the sheets around him before locating his briefs and grabbing a pair of gray sweatpants in his luggage. Once putting them on, he stretched out his back and arms from behind the balcony window before opening it and letting in some air to freshen the room.

When he crossed to the piano room, he was mildly surprised when he saw you seated at the pianoforte. You pressed the keys to carefully listen if the instrument needed any additional tuning. Satisfied that the pitch wasn’t flat, you turned to Ikaris, who was leaning under the doorway.

“Are you ready?” you asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” he replied.

You positioned your fingers over the right keys while straightening your posture. Clearing your throat, you began to play at Adagio. Your body swayed to the melody as if you had become one with the instrument. Every key you lovingly caressed let out a note sounding so beautifully as if the music came alive just for you. You closed your eyes before you began singing.

Des yeux qui font baisser les miens Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche Voilà le portrait sans retouches De l'homme auquel j'appartiens

Quand il me prend dans ses bras Qu'il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose

Ikaris’ eyes widened. Were you playing…had you –

But his thoughts were interrupted as your rich singing broke through his stupor. Your sweet voice was soaked in honey and laced with the roses from the song.

Il me dit des mots d'amour Des mots de tous les jours Et ça m'fait quelque chose

Il est entré dans mon cœur Une part de bonheur Dont je connais la cause

For a moment, Ikaris truly hated that his French wasn’t as proficient as yours. Had it been, he would have been able to appreciate your singing that rivaled the voice of angels properly. Was it possible for one to sound as rich and effortlessly fluid as sweet syrup?

C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie

Et dès que je l'aperçois Alors je sens dans moi Mon cœur qui bat

Your fingers lightly danced along the keys to give your voice a brief intermission. And for a few moments, it felt like Ikaris’ soul had returned to his body. And although he expected you to stop, you began to sing the English translation.

Hold me close and hold me fast

The magic spell you cast

This is la vie en rose

When you kiss me, heaven sighs

And though I close my eyes

I see la vie en rose

Whereas the original French version required a slower and softer pace to grasp the ballad's meaning and beauty, the English version required a slightly quicker tempo. It brought a more joyful mood and tone compared to the lovely but melancholic French version.

When you press me to your heart

I'm in a world apart

A world where roses bloom

And when you speak, angels sing from above

Everyday words seem to turn into love songs

Give your heart and soul to me

And life will always be

La vie en rose

When you finished, Ikaris was once more completely and utterly entranced. You turned to face him with hopeful eyes. You long memorized this song since that night in Paris over seventy years ago. When you began to learn how to play the piano, you did it because you never wanted to forget the ballad’s meaning and how it touched your heart from that night on.

“You once asked me why this song was so popular,” you began to explain. “Édith Piaf wrote ‘La Vie en Rose’ in 1945 and released it as a single in 1947. The song’s popularity quickly reached global success as jazz artists began to sing its covers. Louis Armstrong played it on March 2, 1948 – at the same Jazz Festival you took me in Salle Pleyel.”

You stood up as you tenderly traced a single black key that released a soft C sharp when you pressed it.

“As you remember, all of Europe was in chaos and misery after the war. Everyone lost someone fighting. So many men and women who returned became shells of themselves. People were starving and homeless from the constant airstrikes. But Édith wrote this song to remind Paris to never lose sight of the happy times and good things in life. You shouldn’t forget the bad times, but you also shouldn’t forget to look at life without seeing the beauty of everything around you.”

You walked towards Ikaris before standing before him and wrapping your arms around him. You laid your cheek against his chest and smiled at his beating heart's steady and strong rhythm.

“That night- when we danced at the Place Verdôme- the song they played was stuck in my head for months. Whenever I felt sad or disheartened, I would put on the record I bought to listen to it. I know you have your doubts about humanity. You always had them, as had I. We were never the ones who loved humankind, especially after the atrocities they had committed. I hated what they did to the Earth, how much they polluted it, but – Oh, Ikaris. I made you cry again.”

Touching his cheek, Ikaris realized that he was indeed crying. That’s twice in less than twelve hours, a new record. Just what in Arishem’s name had you done to him?

He shook his head. “Never mind my tears. Continue.”

“Listening to that song, I finally realized why so many of our family kept faith in humankind. Kaety and Druig have their twins and remain in their village. Phastos and Ben have Jack. Sersi has loved and lost more than any of us, first with Jane, but now she’s with Dane. Kingo lives among them effortlessly and adores them. Even Makkari remains joyful because she keeps looking at life and seeing its beauty.”

You paused for a moment before standing only tip-toes to press a kiss on his nose.

“Ikaris, you don’t care much for humans. But that night, you reminded me why I did what I did in the war. You reminded me that there will always be people who will take comfort in the most simple pleasures- a rose’s bloom, the crisp bite of an apple, or even the sound of a child’s heartbeat. So, for just a few minutes, I wanted to give something to you the way you have for me.”

Words failed to convey the love Ikaris felt for you. All he could do was tightly hold you in his arms and never let go. For the first time since he came back, he felt it was alright to love you. That he wouldn’t pollute or ruin you the way he had done with everything else in his life so many times. Ikaris knew that it was his destiny to love you. But you- you chose him. You chose to love him. And that fact alone was enough to make him die without regrets.

“I hope children have your voice,” he murmured into your hair before facing you with wet eyes. “And I hope that they have your heart.”

He cupped your cheek, and you kissed his palm softly. “Only if they have your eyes and your art skills.”

Ikaris must have heard you sing your rendition of ‘La Vie en Rose’ a million times. You sang and taught it all your children— Laurie, Aggie, and Ari – on the piano or tucking to bed. But that first time he heard you sing it- that morning when the sun pooled into the room as pink roses and red asters suddenly bloomed- that will always be his favorite.

Thank you if you if finished the story! Let me know if you enjoyed it, and make sure to like, comment, and reblog!

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @valeskafics, @asa-do-your-thing, @arcielee, @lexyysworld, @hypnoticmistake, @jolixtreesunn, @tess-love, @she-wintersoldat, @vikingqueen28, @lilacliquors, @beananacake, @tesha-i-guess, @littledoveofchaos, @atjsgf, @littlewitchoftheweast, @fireinmoonshot

Let me know if the comments if you want to be included in future Eternals posts!

#marvel eternals #ikaris smut #richard madden smut #eternals x reader #marvel x reader #ikaris x reader #druig imagine #ikaris imagine #ikaris x female reader #ikaris x eternal!reader #ikaris x oc #eternals fic #richard madden x reader #eternals au #eternals smut #demisexual!reader #demisexual eternal #lgbtqiia+

41 notes · View notes

ceruleanwhore · 11 months

Text

As someone who has never liked Jin since I first started ikepri, I recently was convinced to attempt to make my way through his romantic route after reading @randonauticrap’s wonderful and very compelling fanfic about him and now, as I finish his story, I wanted to take a very long minute to talk about it. I’d like to start with a bit of context before really getting into things, though. (Major spoilers for Luke and Jin’s routes below the cut.)

A few months ago, I saw a post somewhere on here that mentioned what, for me at the time, was a massive spoiler, that Jin killed Luke’s sister. At the time, I was in the middle of another route so I immediately took to YouTube to find a playlist of Jin’s route because my thought at the time was that I wanted to read it. However, I very quickly decided that I hated it, and then I kind of just flipped through some of the following chapters, kind of scanning for the stuff with Luke’s sister and not finding it, so then I just ended up skipping to the last 8 chapters and slogging through those. It is also worth mentioning that the only ending on YouTube was his dramatic ending.

Now, that whole experience sucked beyond belief and I came out of it deeply, passionately hating Jin because really all I saw was his awful, disrespectful behavior at the very beginning and that horrid shit he pulls both in ch 19 and then in the actual ending. A while after this whole ordeal, I did get around to reading Luke’s route, which made me hate Jin even more because, in the part where Jin is finally explaining what happened on Bloodstained Rose Day and we get his own flashback, there’s no dialogue, like he pulls this injured little girl from the rubble and then just slices her throat without her ever saying anything. Between that and what sure seemed like sexism from what bits and pieces of Jin’s route I’d seen, it gave me this idea that Leyla was straight up unconscious and he just decided to slice her throat like that because, in truth, he just wanted her out of the way and didn’t want to have to deal with her during the fighting but obviously he’d tell himself that it was for her sake or some shit. There’s still a bunch I’m missing with that but I’m about to get way more into this shit so I’m not concerned, but tldr I fucking hated this guy and I thought he was the worst kind of scum coming out of Luke’s route, especially since so many other people in the fandom have talked about how much he gives them the ick.

So now, at the end of his romantic route, I still don’t like him and I really think I was just bewitched by the beautiful things that @randonauticrap has written about him, but I don’t truly hate him anymore. I think I’m going to just list off my issues with his character as quickly as possible to just really show how much there is that I take issue with here without going on about it for an eternity.

First is the way he talks about women (i.e. comments about how he’s never seen such an impressive “rack” before.) More importantly, there’s how he’s sexualizing women in totally inappropriate contexts where there really aren’t any women present, like when he’s training his troops or when he goes to deal with that issue on the border and is addressing those kids from Obsidian. This particularly is disturbing to me because there’s already a longstanding history of men conflating sexual violence with the violence of war and for Jin to, however unintentionally, draw that direct of a connection between fighting in war and having sex with women is something I cannot abide by.

Also with his lack of respect of women is how he demands and abuses Emma’s time at the start of his route. It’s bad enough to put her in that god-awful position in the first place with Sariel and all that, but to then drag her away from the hard work she has to put in because of him just to make her spend an entire day watching him go around hitting on other women is beyond disrespectful. The other thing that really irks me is how he continues to hit on Emma after she’s made it super clear that, unlike the women he has relations with, she truly believes that such relations exclusively accompany real feelings. He acknowledges that she’s a true romantic and then is out here like “where’s my hug” and it makes me feel violent. I originally wasn’t totally against how he talks to women, since in canon all those faceless nameless side characters he fucks seem to be into it and I thought he was a consent king who stops if the woman clearly isn’t interested and only ever pursues women who are really into what he’s offering but apparently not.

Then there’s everything with Clause 99. First off, him putting in the clause basically reflects that his biggest fear is history repeating itself with his parents’ relationship and Clause 99 puts ALL of that responsibility on the women who will serve as Belle in the future. Secondly, this is backed by his hypocritical behavior throughout the different routes. In Luke’s route, he outright encourages Luke to pursue Emma in spite of making this clause and he easily yields to his other brothers when, in their own routes, they decide they want to revoke the clause, and yet Emma herself gets Clause 99 looming over her head throughout all of the routes. The conclusion which I believe is actually meant to be canon with this is that women are fragile little flowers who need extra special protection from the big, bad men and they need a fucking man to provide that protection. Rather than putting in any amount of effort at all whatsoever to make himself and his brothers and future generations of their family better, he’s putting all this serious, overwhelming pressure on the women. Also, the clause does jack shit to help mitigate the development of such emotions, so it literally just serves to put pressure and responsibility on women about things beyond their control while accomplishing nothing other than turning them into scapegoats.

Okay so then I really need to talk about Luke’s sister. So, as I started to talk about before, I now know that the flashback in Luke’s route was incomplete and that Leyla did actually beg for death, but even with that being the case there are still some major ethical issues here. For example, can a ~8 year old child have the bodily autonomy to actually request assisted suicide and should they? Does said child have enough knowledge of pain and injury to know when they’re actually about to die or not? Should a grown ass man actually heed a child’s request for death without even so much as having a doctor spare said child a glance first? But then after he killed her, he went and stole her body to go bury her in the woods, clearly just deciding that her dead body should go to him to use to try and make himself feel better. Those graves that are hidden where only he can find them do nothing for Leyla or for Luke; they exclusively exist for Jin. They are there solely for him to use to try and alleviate his guilt over time, like props.

Then, there’s the part in Luke’s route where he discovers the truth about Jin, so Jin takes him on a walk to those graves and tells the story of how he killed Leyla before he then tries to get Luke to kill him. Once again, this has nothing at all to do with trying to give Luke justice or closure and it has everything to do with Jin making everything about himself. There’s even a bit in there where Jin basically phrases it like he’s asking Luke to do him a favor and hear him out, making it clear that this is not at all for Luke’s benefit. Likewise, if he really cared about Luke getting real, meaningful justice and closure, he wouldn’t be trying to get Luke to murder him, putting all that blood directly on his hands, giving him further pain and trauma, and also ensuring that Chevalier would then kill Luke because of course he would.

Another thing I want to add, going off of that, is how very badly Jin sucks at conflict resolution, which we see multiple times between his route and Luke’s, whether it’s his conflict with Luke or how he handles shit so utterly fucking terribly with Emma or even that bullshit at the border with Obsidian at the end of his route. This man isn’t just shit at conflict resolution, he’s thoroughly proven that all attempts he makes at it are just variations of the same shit: self sacrifice fueled by ego dressed up to look like it’s heroic and really meant for the benefit of others that only actually harms those it’s supposedly meant to protect.

So I think my final takeaway with his character is that he is inherently very selfish but he has no self awareness about that selfishness and genuinely believes everything he’s doing is for other people. Another thing I want to talk about is that I saw a video the other day that also has softened my overall feelings about Jin, and that video was talking about the lack of self awareness of male feminists. This video talke about how some of these men who are out here making online content around ‘educating’ other men about feminism and respecting women will sometimes share this sentiment like “women have all been traumatized by the bad men out there so you just need to be patient with them” and how condescending it is. The issue here is that, when men say this, they are refusing to acknowledge that even as a good ol feminist ally, their own behavior can come across as sexist and they themselves can give us the ick or make us feel unsafe.

I bring this up because, with Jin, I originally thought he was a sexist dick hiding behind a very thin facade of “but I love women,” but now I think it really is just a complete lack of self awareness where, like the men that video talked about, he sees himself as a feminist who loves women, so he doesn’t see how his words and actions can make it seem as though he’s violently sexist. So, to sum everything up, when I first found @randonauticrap’s stuff and then subsequently decided to read Jin’s story, I genuinely hated him because I saw him as dangerously sexist and selfish but now, as I finish his route, I don’t like him but I no longer hate him the way I did. Now I see him as capable of change and I think that like after the end of the story, a good person like the one he’s in a relationship with could successfully help him grow and change into a better person.

#ikepri #ikeprince #ikemen prince #ikepri jin #jin grandet #anti jin #anti jin grandet #i tried yall #i swear i wanted to like him

85 notes · View notes

frequenceraph · 1 year

Text

"Z is a bad character"

Xenoblade 1 and 3 spoilers incoming Ok so Z. I've seen so many people, mostly on twitter and reddit, complain about how this man is a bad character. The thing is though they're missing the point of Z. Z isn't supposed to be complex, he's a force created by origin as a response to the collective will of people to avoid confronting the inevitable collision and dissolution into light that the two worlds are destined for. He's a corrupting influence; an embodiment of the concept of the endless now. Z is compelling by means of the characters he influences. N is widely considered in the fandom to be an extremely well written character-- through the lens of one of the main characters' past lives, we get to experience the pain of loss that made him want to never have to lose anything anymore. Z is the fear of loss, and Noah choosing to confront Z and refuse to give in is him refusing to be afraid of losing the people he loves. He's lost Mio over and over, he had to leave his son behind, he's been unable to defeat moebius and break the cycle over and over, and Z-- his fear of loss-- eventually gets to him. These kinds of interactions make Z compelling and threatening. Z is a representation of the fear and vice that lives inside every single one of us. Even people who are extremely young like Joran can self sabotage and want to stay in a comfortable eternity when that's not the state that anything-- the world nor your interpersonal relationships-- can stay in. Joran is so mired in his assumptions that everyone of the main Keves party thinks he's useless that for a while he isn't able to escape the genuine abuse that he suffers at the hands of Moebius D. And that's Z at work. He (Joran's own assumptions and fears) has paralyzed Joran in a state of self loathing that he's inflicted on himself. There's also another aspect I think people ignore with regard to Z's relationship to past games. And that's that Z is a direct consequence of Shulk's decision at the end of Xenoblade 1 to walk towards the future hand in hand with everyone. Without a god to rule over them, people falling to their worst vices can directly influence the world. Z acts as a foil to Zanza in a sense, both serving as a demonstration of the flaws of a world with and without gods. Shulk's choice didn't result in utopia. There's always going to be something to fight for, and sometimes that thing is ourselves rather than some made up enemy. And that, I feel is the core message of Xenoblade 3. Given that western media has imbued us with the idea that characters need to be compelling in the same way that-- as hbomberguy said-- games need to be fun, it's easy to see why people would write off Z as being a bad character when they don't understand the broader context in which he exists. Like sure Z sits around and watches the main party do shit in a theatre in the middle of origin and that's all he does, but Z taking direct action would be against the spirit of his character. He (our internal vices, fear of change) operates through others, both figuratively and literally. We had to come to him in the final encounter because he-- from what I understand-- primarily exists in people's minds. TL;DR Z doesn't need to be a compelling character in the traditional sense. He's compelling by means of the characters he influences and what he represents; the flaws of a world without gods.

#xc3 #xenoblade #xenoblade chronicles #xenoblade chronicles 3 #meta post #meta #character analysis

95 notes · View notes

jayteacups · 2 years

Note

Hey Jay! i just read this and i was wondering if you could make a version where fem!reader-chan survives please? (with a lot of angst, but fluff and a happy ending, because Levi deserves it)

Onwards Past to Eternity

"Levi settles on gingerly reaching for you instead, his fingers brushing sweat-slicked strands of hair out of your face. Perhaps settle is the wrong word - he is more than content just kneeling by your side. To talk to you, to touch you gently, is more than he should be allowed to ask for, and he is grateful he can do either of these things at all. Your skin is warm underneath his fingertips as his hands, his marred, dirty hands, trace your features. His thumb rubs over your cheekbone as he cups your face. You are a force of nature, and most find it easy to forget that you too are tragically, irrevocably human - but Levi has never forgotten. His inhuman strength refuses to let him forget."

(An alternate happy ending to an older one-shot of mine, All Too Familiar. (It is possible to read this without having read ATF, but I do recommend reading it first for context.) This can also be found on AO3 here.)

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x fem!Reader

Genre and warnings: SFW, angst and sadness (so much sadness) with a happy ending, manga (and now s4 part 3) spoilers at the end, some fluffiness towards the end too.

Word count: 6.4k words

A/N: Thank you for the request anon! This was fun to write (but awful to proofread for some reason). I didn't rewrite the beginning because that stays largely the same. It picks up shortly after Hange was made available to attend to the matter. I don't think I specified in the original, but they were unable to get on the scene when Reader was shot because they had to oversee other things. In this version, the medics kept Reader alive long enough to get Reader on a stretcher and for Hange to be able to join the medics... and that's all the context you'll need! I kind of hate it now that I've reread it so many times for proofreading (though knowing me I've definitely missed a ton of errors) but anyway! hope you enjoy.

He clenches his fists in a futile attempt to stop them from trembling, and hides his hands in the swaths of his forest green cloak. He trails closely behind the medics like a ghost. In a twisted way, he feels like one; present, but not fully all there. His ears ring, the shrill noise echoing inside his skull and seeping into every crevice of his being. His mind is simultaneously detached and numb, shutting down when there is no other option, and full of noise and clamour and raw emotion that he cannot even begin to compartmentalise. Levi’s chest feels uncomfortably tight all of a sudden, the air in his lungs too thick with tension and too thin as if there is no oxygen all at the same time. His bitter tears do nothing to wash away the blood on his cheeks.

He’s not sure nothing ever will wash away the memory of your bloodied hand cupping his cheek with all the care in the world.

What he is sure of is that nothing will ever truly wash away the blood staining his hands.

The medical team—now joined by Hange, dusting off their medical training from an age ago—carry you on a stretcher into a smaller chamber that acts as an emergency med-bay. He almost snarls when one of the medics turns around and says, “I’m sorry Captain, but you can’t come in. We are about to commence surgery on her, so only medical personnel and Commander Zoë may enter.”

The words are right on the tip of his tongue. She is my wife, he wants to shout though his tongue is leaden, I need to be by her side. Over the medic’s shoulder, he catches a glimpse of you. Your eyes are fluttering weakly as the morphine is beginning to take hold, and you look frail, so, so frail.

He wants to scream.

Hange looks over their shoulder, face taut with stress. “Levi,” they say, “I promise you we’re going to save her, and you can hold me to that. But you can’t come any further than here. I-I’m sorry.”

Fuck. He knows he’ll be nothing more than a hindrance to the medical team once you enter surgery. He knows, and he knows that you’re in good hands, but he isn’t sure his ribcage is strong enough to withstand the force at which his heart beats with pure and utter fear.

Sighing, Levi does not make a move to follow them into the medical chamber. The wooden door swings shut in his face with a startling finality, and he can’t help but equate it to the sound of a coffin door closing for the last time. There is a bitter taste on his tongue.

He’s not religious. Far from it, actually. But in that moment, Levi finds himself praying that maybe you’ll hang on.

Maybe you’ll stay.

Maybe.

———

When Levi returns to the main chamber of the airship, he is greeted with a sea of pale, solemn faces. Well, a sea that seems hesitant to spill onto a particular stretch of shore, and Levi knows why before he sees it.

A perfect circle has formed around where you had lain. The floorboards are stained dark, and in some places, blood glints under the light, the blood spilled still all too fresh.

Your blood.

Crimson spills past the gaping hole in your chest, spills past your chapped, parted lips—lips Levi’s own is all too familiar with.

He’s not sure how he made it from the door to your side, but the wooden floor is hard against his knees, your warm blood seeping through his uniform.

Your name leaves his lips in a shaky whisper so quiet none could hear—other than you.

Your eyelids flutter. “Hey.” You rasp, blood dribbling down your chin at the motion. Your body jerks limply, and a fountain of ruby red splashes onto Levi’s lap. He takes your hand, squeezes it tightly. You squeeze back with only a fraction of the force he knows you’re capable of.

Levi’s stomach churns violently at the sight. The sight of blood has been a staple to his life ever since Kenny had taken him in, but your blood? He can hardly stand the sight of it, he realises bitterly. He turns away and blinks furiously to banish the memory out of his vision.

He breaks the silence. “Are there any cleaning supplies on board?”

“Yes, sir,” Sasha supplies meekly when no one else steps up to reply. She wipes away her lingering tears with her hands. Her fingers are still stained with your blood when she’d stepped in to help the medics look after you until the stretcher was fetched. The blood streaks across her face eerily. A twisted thought enters Levi’s mind; it looks like the girl has donned warpaint. “There’s some in the third cupboard to the left down the first corridor, I think.”

Levi nods. “When I come back into this chamber,” he says quietly, “I want everybody to have relocated elsewhere within the ship.”

He’s met with frantic nods.

As he reaches the cupboard, he notes that he is almost breathless. The ringing in his ears grows deafeningly loud, and the weight of his emotions force Levi to his knees right outside the door.

I need to see her.

I need to see if she’s alright.

Clamping down on his traitorous thoughts (she has to be alright, she has to be, let Hange and the medics succeed, please, please—), he scrambles to his feet. Only to fail, as his feet immediately give out from under him - or the ship’s floor lurches from turbulence all of a sudden, he can’t tell. (He can.)

Levi closes his eyes. Perhaps if he tries hard enough, he can convince himself it is the latter, instead of his own weak mind, instead of his own folly.

For it is his folly that has landed you in this position, isn’t it? Eren grew out of control and ran away to ally with his mangy animal of an older brother, forcing the Scout’s hand. Eren knew Paradis couldn’t afford losing him to Marley, knew that the Survey Corps would be sent out in accordance to his plan. Knew that Marley would retaliate in the cruellest ways possible. Levi should’ve seen this coming, should’ve kept the young boy in check like he was ordered to, like he swore to the Martial Court.

Taking in a few deep breaths that sound as forced as they feel, he throws open the cupboard door and fetches his supplies quickly as if nothing had happened at all.

When Levi returns, he finds that Sasha (who has yet to clean the blood off her face and hands) and Connie are the only ones that have not listened to his order. He knows where the rest of his squad is, or at least should be: Armin and Mikasa are watching over Eren and Zeke, and Jean is watching over the two young stowaways. The normally energetic duo are eerily quiet, even as Sasha timidly approaches with the small bin in her hands. It feels wrong, but he supposes if they’d been unaffected by it all he’d be angered beyond a doubt. At least most of his kids (since when they had gone from ‘the brats’ to ‘his kids’, he’s not sure) are still on the right track, instead of falling into the same trap that Eren, the rat-haired redhead and his posse have hurtled headfirst into.

“I told everyone to leave,” he grumbles at them without any bite as he blots away the blood that has not yet seeped into the floorboards. Such procedures used to be daily routine for him, back in the Underground. He’s wiped up bloodstains from rotting floorboards more times than he can count. Sometimes, it was his own. Other times, the blood had belonged to Isabel or Furlan. That rotting dump of a city he’d once called home bred violence like rabbits. Now, one could ask him how to do it, and the response would be so practiced it is as if he could recite the steps from beyond the grave.

Sasha sets down the bin next to him. He disposes of the first rag, the white stained crimson. The girl shifts on her feet, her breathing picking up.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” she blurts out, voice wavering. “I heard them. I knew something was wrong.”

Levi picks up the bottle of peroxide and reaches for a fresh new rag. “Don’t you dare apologise.”

“Sir—”

“No.” It comes out all ugly and twisted and warbling. He hates how fucking pathetic he sounds, hates the way Sasha seems to recoil. He’s not mad at her, how could he be? She had nothing to do with it - the damn girl even helped the medics stem the bleeding and load you onto the stretcher.

He swallows, his throat feels far too dry. “Go clean up, Braus. You have blood on your face. Get some rest before we land,” he says defeatedly. Fuck. You’re not dead yet, he shouldn’t—there shouldn’t be a reason to panic. Right? He strains his ears, and hears nothing but faint murmurs from behind the door to the emergency medical chamber. But your life still hangs in the balance and there is nothing he can do about it.

She’s in safe hands with Hange, he thinks to himself, but it doesn’t stem the constant churning, roiling feeling of anxiety and guilt that simmers just underneath his skin.

In the periphery of his vision, he sees Connie whisper something in Sasha’s ear. He catches a few fragments of it: ‘c’mon, Sasha, it’s okay. It’ll be okay,’ and ‘let’s just give him a moment to himself, yeah?’, before the duo close the door behind themselves.

And so Levi does the only thing he can do right now whilst you and the medical team fight for your life on the other side of the wall.

He cleans.

There’s a simplistic methodical beauty to it. He falls into a familiar rhythm of applying peroxide and rubbing at the stain with the rag. His hands itch from the peroxide, but he can hardly feel it, refuses to feel it until your blood is completely gone.

Like you were never shot.

Perhaps the wood will be as good as new by the time he is finished with it, but it will forever be tainted with the memory.

Every time he blinks, he sees the fresh bloodstain behind closed eyelids. Every time he looks up from his work, he swears he sees a droplet of blood spattered on the wall.

He scrubs harder, even when there is nothing left to scrub. His eyelids twitch. His trigger fingers, shoulders and back ache, and by now his head is pounding, and everything just feels so goddamn heavy, but his fucked-up mind refuses to switch off, buzzing with nerves.

He can’t rest, he needs to stay awake, alert, on guard.

He can’t rest. He can’t.

———

Long after he’s cleaned the chamber top to bottom, Levi paces up and down the room, and he wonders what will come first: the end of the surgery, or the collapse of the floorboards from his pacing. It’s been… what, how long, ten minutes? Twelve hours? Two-thousand years since you disappeared behind those doors?

He’s going to fucking lose it.

Some calm and collected commanding officer he is.

Just as Levi’s resolve fractures, like a rubber band stretched to thin it finally snaps, Hange pulls open the door before he can raise his hand to hammer on the wood. Hange’s face is pale with exhaustion, but they smile at him faintly.

Levi’s eyes burn.

“She’s stable.” Their voice wobbles. Hange, still wearing surgical gloves, wipes their tears of relief away with their forearm awkwardly. “She’s going to be okay. She’s going to live, Levi.”

It is all he needs to hear.

He doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever thanked Hange out loud, or if he’s ever done so, but he has no reservations in quickly squeezing their shoulder in gratitude as he moves past them and the other medics into the room; he’s not entirely sure he can even speak right now.

He sits in the chair next to the bed and takes your limp hand into his. The number of bandages and tubes and annoying blinking machines makes him queasy and irritable all at once. Undeservedly so, because they are the only thing that drowns out the insurmountable pain such injuries would be making you feel.

Behind the closed doors to the medical chamber, finally away from the prying eyes of the other soldiers, a small sob escapes him. Carefully, as not to jostle you too much, Levi lifts your hand—still covered in your blood—to his quivering lips, and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles. A small, fleeting action familiar to you both.

He waits.

Time passes, he’s not sure how long before your eyes open. This entire time, he’s kept your wrist under his thumb; your pulse is strong and steady. You smile up at him faintly. Though the medics have tried their best to wipe you clean, your face is still slightly smeared with blood and sweat.

“Levi?” You murmur, your thumb gently rubbing the back of his hand. Your eyes are glazed over - not because you are on the precipice any longer, but because of the morphine pumping through your veins. “Levi, sweetheart, you’re crying.”

Levi raises his hand numbly, and wipes at his cheek. His fingertips are damp when he looks at his hand. “Oh.”

You shift, wincing a little. Panic flares in his chest, which you instantly clock onto. You squeeze his hand - it is still far too weak for a soldier of your prowess, but your hold has much more strength than it did when blood was spilling from your mouth and gut.

“You scared me. D-don’t do that.” The teary confession weighs heavy on his heart. He gently puts your hand back down by your side. “You have to stay.”

You shake your head sleepily. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Cold seeps in. “That’s not what you said twenty minutes ago.”

“We’re… we were going to make it. We were going to fucking grow old together, I… you’re not giving up right now, you can’t.”

A bloodied hand settles upon his cheek for a moment, streaking his skin with ruby red. “I wish I could’ve had it all with you, too.”

Though you’re stable, your face still looks gaunt and ashen, the skin under your eyes dark. The sight of you, his wife, in such a state… he’s still on the verge of spiralling. Shit. “I thought there was no going back,” you confess. “I didn’t… I’m sorry.”

Levi shakes his head. He can still hardly speak. Hands trembling at his sides, Levi wonders. Fragile is not a word he would describe you with, but in this very moment, nothing seems more fitting. He desperately wants to reach out, cradle you against him, feel your chest rise and fall against his. But in this state, you could crumple faster than a sheet of damp paper.

Levi settles on gingerly reaching for you instead, his fingers brushing sweat-slicked strands of hair out of your face. Perhaps settle is the wrong word - he is more than content just kneeling by your side. To talk to you, to touch you gently, is more than he should be allowed to ask for, and he is grateful he can do either of these things at all. Your skin is warm underneath his fingertips as his hands, his marred, dirty hands, trace your features. His thumb rubs over your cheekbone as he cups your face. You are a force of nature, and most find it easy to forget that you too are tragically, irrevocably human - but Levi has never forgotten. His inhuman strength refuses to let him forget.

Sighing softly, your brow furrows. You turn your head, leaning into his gentle touch. Many times have you told him in the middle of the night just how comforting it feels to be held by him.

“Stay here,” you mumble, eyes fluttering shut. “Don’t wanna sleep alone.”

He does without hesitation, silently praying you’ll do the same, that you’ll still have a pulse when the airship lands on Paradis. As you slip back into a deep sleep, Levi stays curled up on the chair, unable to keep his eyes off you. At some point, he kicks off his boots and draws his knees to his chest; the position he adopts when he feels he is drowning. It’s humiliating, it’s childish, but he can’t bring himself to care about that. There’s no-one around to see the type of sorry, overwhelmed state he is in, after all.

The sound of a knock and the door opening pulls him out of his haze shortly afterwards. He uncurls himself and straightens up in chair, his back screaming in protest, but schools his features into neutrality, betraying no pain. No physical pain, at least.

“Hey. We’re landing soon. Descent begins in seven minutes.” Hange says as they enter the room and close the door behind them. Their one visible eye is bloodshot and heavily shadowed, their shoulders slumped with the weight of their responsibilities.

For a moment, Hange glances at you, sleeping deeply, before reaching forward and sympathetically squeezing his shoulder. He doesn’t have the heart to shrug it off like he usually does.

“I’m going to send the other medics in here to do one last check-up, since I’m needed in the cockpit to help Onya with the landing.” Hange murmurs. “A carriage should be waiting for any injured personnel, so she’ll go straight to a proper hospital and get treated. She won’t be discharged for a while.”

Levi exhales shakily. “Okay,” he says. “Okay.”

Steeling himself, he gets to his feet, and straightens his uniform and cape out. He knows he must look a sight - red eyes, damp cheeks, blood staining his clothes and his face from when you’d caressed his cheek earlier; he’d told Sasha to clean up, but he’d been too consumed with worry to remember to clean himself. His skin crawls, and his stomach once again churns with revulsion and panic.

The ship will be landing soon, he tries to assure himself. He can scrub himself raw later. He can completely unravel later. Right now, though, he has one very simple task to do, and that is to march the eldest Jaeger brother out of the airship into the carriage. Surely, just surely, this is the one thing that he won’t completely and utterly fuck up.

Hange takes a step back as the medics enter the room with their stretcher, and proceed to shift you onto it. Levi’s jaw clenches as he watches. Like him, Hange pulls themself together quickly, wiping their eye, drawing their shoulders back. “To your stations, everybody,” they order.

“Affirmative, Commander.”

———

My dearest Levi,

Today marks exactly a month since I’ve been shot. A month since you’ve left to watch over Zeke in the Forest of Giant Trees.

What a long, boring month it has been.

The days crawl by without you; this hospital room is awfully dull. It feels too sterile, with all its white walls and a tiny little window. I feel restless. I hate to say that my recovery is slow. Well, nobody was expecting me to be right as rain two days after getting shot in the chest, but the doctors reckon I’ll be able to return to active duty in no less than 3 months, and that’s being optimistic. What a bummer.

Don’t worry about me, though. My squad, your squad and Hange have all come around to visit me every once in a while, so it’s not all bad. Hange even bought me some new books to read, bless their heart. The one I am reading right now is consuming my mind, I swear! It depicts a civil war, and is filled with all sorts of plot twists. The political intrigue is very gripping; you don’t know which character to trust. It sounds like something Erwin would’ve liked, actually - but I won’t bore you with the details.

I do hope that watching over the Beast Titan around the clock isn’t driving you completely insane. Please, remember to get some sleep. And to eat, for Wall’s sake. Zeke isn’t going anywhere with thirty other soldiers watching over him when you’re not able to. I know I must sound like an old nag - but being cooped up and on bedrest, unable to talk to you, just makes me all the more worried for your wellbeing. Get out of your head for a bit and take care of yourself, okay? I hope you’ll be able to come home soon.

Missing you dearly,

Your beloved.

———

My love,

You are right in thinking that having to watch over that fucking monkey is its own special brand of torture. He’s fucking infuriating to talk to, which is especially bad when he claims there is nothing to do but talk. I’m getting headaches just thinking about it. But other than that, he’s been compliant so far. Everything is too quiet, too isolated from what’s going on back in the Capital. I think that’s been wearing away at me; the squadron convinced me to let them drink the expensive Marleyan wine last night, and I suppose it is because this entire situation is fraying my nerves that I allowed it. A moment of weakness.

I am glad the books Four-Eyes gifted you with are both entertaining and informative. You and Hange always did have the same taste in fiction. You better be listening to your doctor, too. If they say three months minimum, then it’s three months minimum. No playing around. And quit worrying about me. To put it in your words, I must sound like an ‘old nag’, but fucking hell, they have medical degrees. Listen to them and just focus on recovering.

I’m doing fine. Granted, I could be sleeping more, but there’s never really been much of a solution to that other than having you lying next to me. But I’m fine. And I will come home to you. I’ll make it a promise, and you can hold me to it until this is all over. I don’t know how much of that night on the airship you remember. But I said that we were going to grow old together. You have no idea how much I want that as a reality. Okay? Until then, just… get well soon. Please.

Yours,

Levi

———

He’s fast asleep, turned on his side, facing you. The sight of him deeply in slumber is rare, and the chances of him sleeping without graphic nightmares is even more so. Levi is not the type to scream and thrash, but he does have a tendency to mumble in his sleep, and by now, you are intimately familiar with who it is he dreams of, who he sees dying.

Right now, though, he is silent save for his soft snores. Sunlight trickles in through the small gap in the curtains, illuminating this surreal, serene scene. Your fingers hover over his right eyelid, which is split in half by a jagged scar that runs down the length of his handsome face. You want to brush the stray strand of hair out of his face, but your traitorous brain insists that this is nothing but a mirage, a dream that you’ll be ripped away from when you wake up. So, your hand falls limply back to your side, too scared to disrupt the illusion.

Not an illusion, you remind yourself. This is real. You aren’t bleeding out on the cold, hard floor or the airship. Levi isn’t feverish and fighting for his life in a shitty hospital bed in the Rumbling’s direct aftermath, after days spent without proper rest or medical care. No. The two of you are fine. Just fine.

“We’re okay,” you whisper out loud to yourself, forcing yourself to take in a deeper breath. Air rushes in. Your lungs are intact, not pooling with blood. You can breathe, you are breathing, and so is he; that is all that matters.

In his sleep, Levi mumbles your name quietly and snuggles closer, a sight that makes you grin. He sounds so peaceful, so content; a stark contrast to what you often wake up to every night when the sun has yet to rear its weary head.

A quiet murmur of your name next to you pulls you out of sleep. You yawn, half awake, and reach for Levi. Sometimes, he accidentally rolls out of your arms in the middle of the night, like now. He’s on his side, facing away from you, curled in on himself. It is only after you sleepily sling your arm around his waist that you realise he is trembling, skin clammy to the touch. The realisation banishes all remnants of sleepiness as you prop yourself up on your elbow and lean over him.

“Hey,” you whisper, but receive a choked noise in response. “Honey, I’m okay, wake up.”

Levi’s breath hitches, and his hands fist the sheets. A light sheen of sweat coats his pale skin. Most of what he’s mumbling is unintelligible, but you catch a distinct ‘keep your eyes open’. Your blood chills.

You shake his shoulder. “Wake up, love, please. It… it’s just a dream. I’m alright. Levi, please.” But it isn’t just a dream, though, is it? Your mind supplies. It’s what did happen, what could have happened. You feel your throat close, your husband’s distress inciting your own, and you are reminded of the sensation of a sharp pain in your chest, the sensation of choking on your own blood, unable to speak or even breathe without the invasive taste of copper. Unwillingly, your chest tightens and your stomach churns at the memory. Truthfully, you remember very little after the moment Gabi shot you, but the sensations your body had been forced to feel as you dangled in the maws of Death itself would never leave your memory.

Levi finally jerks awake after a few more torturous moments; moments that feel like they span years. You barely have time to ask him what he needs when he swiftly rolls over to face you, pressing a hand to your chest. Underneath his trembling fingertips, your heart beats with defiance. Defiance of your fate, defiance of the odds.

“You’re alive.” He whispers. It’s not so much a statement as it is a reassurance to himself.

“Yeah.” You nod, eyes brimming with unshed tears. “Yeah, I’m alive. I’m okay.”

Levi’s eyes are wild, still frantically searching your face for a sign that this is real, that he won’t wake up in a cold bed the moment he looks away from you. It is a feeling all too familiar to you; that all-consuming panic when you’re caught in limbo between nightmare and reality. Even enveloped in your arms, he still trembles. Levi takes in a shuddering breath.

“You’re alive,” he repeats to himself. His hands move from your heart to the scar, and the mist in his one good eye condenses and spills onto his cheek in the form of a lone tear.

The sight gives way to a dull ache in your chest. Reaching up, you wipe away the tear gently with the pad of your thumb. “I’m not going anywhere,” you echo yourself from that very same night.

“You almost did.” Levi shakes his head. “I saw…”

Prompting him with silence, you stroke his hair with one hand, twirling the silky soft strands between your fingers.

“I saw the version of that night where you don’t make it.”

Your other hand moves to interlock your fingers with his, joining your hands right over the scar, the brand of survival, on your chest.

“But I did make it,” you breathe.

Levi shakes his head, trapped in the prison that is his own thoughts. He’s not usually so verbal, but every single regret and ugly thought he’s ever had cannot be held back forever. It seems as though this one nightmare was the one fateful drop of water that finally caused the dam to break. “I should’ve at least checked in with you; that monkey bastard was already secure… I could’ve safely disarmed her before she shot, or at least gotten you out of the way, maybe if I’d kept a closer eye on Eren like I swore I would back in 850, the raid would have never have happened at all, none of what followed would’ve—”

“Levi, listen to me. I and the other soldiers in the airship brought this upon ourselves the moment we started talking in favour of focusing and actually closing the door,” you rebut, holding him close. “You had a job to do, of course you weren’t present… you’ve always told me that I shouldn’t have to carry the blame for every life I’ve failed to save. And in my case, my life was saved - so there is nothing you did that is at fault.”

You squeeze his hand comfortingly, and he, clutching onto your hand like a lifeline, squeezes back.

“And as for Eren… not even his friends could’ve seen this coming. Everyone trusted him. He was shaping up to be Humanity’s Hope, the key to everything. Genocide was the last thing we thought he’d turn to.”

“What was all my strength for if I couldn’t…”

“Don’t go down that path. You’re more than Paradis’ weapon.” More than just Humanity’s Strongest. He’s only seen himself as a tool to be wielded by the people for so long, and it breaks your heart every time Levi talks of himself like this. “Look. It’ll take time, I know… but I hope one day you will see why I would never, ever hold this against you.”

Levi still looks doubtful, but after a pause, he nods. It’s a small movement, barely perceptible, but it is there.

And right now, that is enough.

Like that night, and so many others that came before and after it, Levi’s right hand currently rests in yours. You’d fallen asleep on your side facing him, clutching your joined hands to your chest, right over the scar from Gabi’s bullet. How odd, that the girl that had almost killed you would work alongside your husband to end the Rumbling and become dear to him in the way only a daughter could. Well, you suppose you shouldn’t be surprised at that. Levi had understood Gabi’s situation immediately, and knew her apology to the both of you was sincere as sincere could be.

Your thumb absentmindedly rubs over the two stumps on his hand. I hope one day you will see why I would never, ever hold this against you. That one particular night where you had reassured Levi that he was not to blame for your injury stands out to you. You’re not exactly the epitome of practising what you preach, though. Needing to recover and therefore being sidelined for the entirety of the post-Liberio fallout did nothing but riddle you with guilt and worry. The most you could do for the entirety of the civil war was to send letters with poorly coded messages updating Levi on the limited information on the Jaegerists you had. In the end, you were still not in full shape to fight by the time the Jaegerists rose to full power and the Jaegers started the Rumbling. You’d had been forced to sit, wait and worry in a dingy little cell until the entire thing blew over, knowing that one wrong move could lead to being pumped full with lead.

A living nightmare, that was what it was.

After you’d been officially signed off by the doctor as fully recovered, and after you had persuaded the one MP you could somewhat trust, Hitch Dreyse, to sneak you off the island, you’d identified Levi’s whereabouts rather quickly. It was hard not to find him, when the ‘Alliance’ was in the harsh spotlight in the immediate aftermath of the Rumbling. A shudder runs through you upon remembering how small and frail he had looked in that make-shift hospital camp, remembering the one thought that drowned out all others: ‘if I’d been there, I could’ve at least taken the brunt of the hits.’

Your brain has always been rather imaginative. It hardly came as a shock that amongst your nightmares of choking on your own blood…

“I–” you wheeze, frantically scrabbling for purchase, fingers twisting the fabric of his sleep shirt, “Levi, I can’t breathe, I’m…”

“You’re okay. You’re not shot, your lungs are working fine, alright? There’s no blood, only air. Breathe with me, alright? Put your hand on my chest, breathe with me… that’s it…”

…images of Levi lying bloodied and torn apart by shrapnel, or the visions of his leg being feverishly gnawed upon by a titan, are conjured up in disturbingly vivid detail.

Your tears blur your sight, so you have to rely on touch. Consumed by panic, your hands quickly pat down his face, checking for shards of shrapnel still stuck in his skin, before moving quickly down to his leg. It isn’t until the tenth examination that Levi’s hoarse voice finally cuts through your fog of despair, his arms holding you tightly against him as he strokes your hair and whispers, “I’m okay, I’m okay. And so are you.”

You aren’t sure if either of you are ever going to be ‘fully healed’, not after being wounded both physically and metaphorically over and over and over until the two of you, bloodied and beaten, are no longer able to get back up again. It feels dirty, almost, to live the life that your comrades should have been able to live. Gunther, Eld, Petra, Oluo, Nanaba, Miche, Moblit, Erwin, Hange. Your heart aches especially thinking about the 14th Commander. They’d saved both your life and Levi’s, brought the two of you back from the very blink and worked tirelessly to pave the way for a peaceful future, only for their own life to be torn away from them as as the finish line was in sight.

You both owe it to them.

Levi deserved to survive to the very end, and back in the day, there was never any doubts he was going to. Everybody else that wasn’t blessed with inhuman strength like his was fair game - and you’d made peace with the fact that for all your own achievements, you could very well be one of thousands to die on the battlefield. And yet; here you are, alive and beating, whilst Hange’s burnt remains lie on foreign soil.

There are days, so many days where you feel as though the universe has made a mistake. Many days that you wish you could trade your life in for Hange’s, or for anybody else more deserving than you. Many days where you remember what it is like to drown slowly and helplessly in your own bodily fluids, many days where either you or Levi get lost in your minds, haunted by your ghosts.

But, there are some good days, serene moments just like this that make you think that maybe, just maybe, you can have the peaceful life you’ve always dreamed of. Moments that make you realise just how fucking lucky you are that you get to live in an era of no titans, no war, that you get to live out the rest of your days with the love of your life at your side. There are moments like these that make you not just want to live for those that couldn’t, but for you.

Moments like these that make you think that maybe, just maybe, all of it was worth it.

Content to stay in bed and let Levi get the rest he deserves and so rarely gets, you remain still and close your eyes.

The sheets rustle beside you almost an hour later, gently pulling you out of the gentle doze you’d fallen into. You faintly register Levi’s arms wrapped around you, and his fingers innocently tracing patterns into the small of your back, pressing gentle kisses to the top of your head. Warmth washes over you, and you just can’t help but feel overwhelmed by the small things. The world could crash down on you today, and you would be content with what you have; just waking up to Levi’s gentle yet affectionate touches is more than enough.

Burying your face out of sight, you whisper, “good morning.”

“Morning,” he mumbles sleepily into your hair; he’s just waking up. You could swear he’s smiling ever so slightly; you can feel it. Levi’s fingers continue to wander innocently around your smaller back, and the pattern, seemingly repeating, begins to feel familiar.

I love you.

You smile. You’ve never doubted it for a goddamned second.

Shuffling upwards so that your face is no longer buried in his chest, you reach up and brush his hair out of his face so that his eyes are unobscured.

You press a kiss to your husband’s forehead where the largest of his scars begins, and gently lay down a line of kisses, following the scar down his face, until you settle upon his lips. He deepens the kiss, one hand flat against your chest, over the scar, the other slipping around your middle. It’s a little messy, raw with pure emotion; relief that both of your hearts are still beating, grief for what a lifetime of war has taken from you, and love, the love for him that can barely be held by just one heart in your chest, the love for you that he works tirelessly to show you every single day.

As you come up for air, you utter the final line of your wedding vows, the words you thought would’ve been your last that day on the airship.

“I love you, Levi. In this life, and the next, until I find you and onwards past to eternity.”

Masterlist

#levi x reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #snk x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #levi x oc #levi ackerman x oc #levi fanfiction #levi fanfic

403 notes · View notes

frostfires-blog · 7 months

Text

Shiguang Dailiren/Link Click Hanakotoba Analysis: Lu Guang Omake

Shiguang Dailiren 《Link Click 》 Hanakotoba Analysis Additional Revisions

Given recent revelations in the newly released episode 24, I have decided to revisit this topic to add some additional information now that we have some more context into Lu Guang's actions and thoughts. I wanted the new material to be easily accessible so that those who have already seen my original post don't have to reread it. So, if you haven't seen it already, please click on the link provided here.

⚠️Warning! Spoilers for Link Click Episode 24/Season 2 Episode 12!⚠️

The forget-me-not not only serves as a powerful symbol of the ties that bind loved ones together but also of the enduring power of love and memories. The forget-me-not is also said to be a symbol of hope and continuity as it is resilient and blooms even under challenging conditions. This flower thus additionally symbolises staying true to oneself. The final episode of season 2 revealed that Lu Guang comes from a different timeline where Cheng Xiaoshi has died. Cheng Xiaoshi’s death caused Lu Guang to break their rules without hesitation. He lives likely constantly haunted by the memory of Cheng Xiaoshi’s death, despite the latter being alive alongside him in the present moment, while actively trying to prevent his death. The incredible lengths Lu Guang is able to go through for Cheng Xiaoshi ties into the forget-me-not’s meanings of remembrance, enduring love, faithfulness, fidelity, and friendship. Additionally, the forget-me-not’s resiliency and meanings of hope, continuity, and staying true to oneself greatly complement Lu Guang’s dedication and commitment to altering fate. The statice flower’s meanings of “unchanging heart, uninterrupted memory, and eternal immutability” parallel Lu Guang’s unwavering dedication and perseverance in saving Cheng Xiaoshi no matter the consequences of changing the past well.

[If you liked this post check out my other hanakotoba analysis posts here ❀]

42 notes · View notes

donutsupremacy · 1 year

Text

Faceless

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Summary:

"Finding yourself back in your hometown, you not only find out that everyone had disappeared without a trace, but another surprise as you stared up at the Anemo Archon's statue."

Warning

Angst to fluff

Yes there's comfort.

Horribly written description of a jumpscare

Nightmares

Stalking? Kinda? With eyes only I think?

Established relationship

Reader is not traveller

Reader does not have a vision

GN!Reader

Reader is a shrine maiden but thas not important lol

A/N: I can't think of anymore warnings— Faceless Ayato still haunts me. Don't randomly download Genshin off random websites kids. Lord knows what happens when you see faceless Timmie. Also this is a bit shorter than usual.

(Somewhat of a spoiler section here)

For a bit of context, idk the whole thing but from what I read; It's a creepy pasta (It's still real I think, ah but it's a download something glitchy from a website thing y'know) where a player downloaded Genshin from a random website because they couldn't download it on their device properly. While playing with Diona, the player noticed someone standing on Venti's statue. It was Ayato, but his entire face was black, void, empty but his eyes. Hence, faceless Ayato. Addition; Faceless Ayato killing Diona in the end— Genshin you now have creepypastas, congrats.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Your terror begins here

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

"...Mondstat?..."

It has been a while since you last remembered being in the city of freedom. Nostalgia took over your senses, barely anything changed after you moved to Inazuma. You were sure everything looked the same, even the air reeks of the old days.

It was the place you were born and raised in before moving to the land of eternity, where you became the very first shrine maiden from Mondstat and formed a special relationship that would never sever.

However, something felt off.

Usually, the city had citizens roaming around, idle chatter and joyous laughter hanging in the air while the bells from the church ringing all across the city. It's the city of freedom, a homey and lively region that easily helps anyone get settled in comfortably.

This isn't Mondstat.

This is a complete ghost town.

You glanced everywhere as you walked around, too afraid to call out for any of your familiar's names. Not a single living being in sight, save for yourself. While you haven't returned to Mondstat for a very long time, you occasionally got some news about any events happening there, in a form of a letter written to you from your friends and family.

Did something disastrous happen? Or was it coincidentally the day where everyone has clocked in for the day? No, that wouldn't make any sense... there would always be a few guards patrolling at night, bless those tired souls.

Even the cold breeze brushing against your exposed delicate skin made you anxious, it felt as if someone was watching your every move.

You walked around, wondering where everyone was. Actually, you don't even remember how you got here? Was this a dream? Actually, no, being in Mondstat with no people wouldn't be a dream.

Despite the place being deserted, you could feel eyes staring at you from afar. Yet, no matter where you looked, you were the only one in the area. Was it paranoia stemming from the lack of people? Possibly.

Fear began bubbling in your chest, the air in your lungs slowly depleting when you slowly picked up your pace. You wanted to run, run away from wherever you are. This isn't the Mondstat you knew and grew up in. Where in the world were you?

That's when you felt something cold brush against the skin of your neck.

Biting your tongue to prevent yourself from screaming, you began running. Your mind was as hazy as your sight, sprinting away in your shoes to who knows where. You weren't sure where you are, you don't remember Mondstat being a full-on maze of houses. Where was Good Hunter? Or Angel Shares? You don't even see Katheryne's Adventurers Guild stand anywhere.

But all you could think of was running. Run. Keep running until you find a way out of this place. The houses pass by you like a blur, no one seemed to be inside any of them, confirming your thoughts that the city was completely deserted. Your legs were starting to burn, your heart pounding against your chest, begging you to stop and take a rest.

You kept on running regardless, gut instinct or not, you knew you were in danger. You didn't even know where you wanted to go, just running away from whatever was following you. No matter how many times you checked behind you, there was no one there.

Still, that lingering stare remained on the back of your head.

Were you going in a loop? It feels like you've seen the same building over and over again, or were you going insane? Perhaps, you were.

Adrenaline coursed through your blood, taking a left turn, then a right, going in random directions in hopes of finding the gate that would lead you out of here. However, instead of finding the large gates, you found yourself running up a flight if stairs.

Those stairs had lead you straight to the plaza by the church, and you were now standing in front of the Anemo Archon's statue. At the very least, you were somewhat free from the maze of houses now.

You glanced around, it was still empty and quiet. You could even hear your heart beating rapidly loud and clear. Out of breath, you had your hands on your knees, panting heavily and drinking in as much oxygen as you could.

"Hah... So... tired..." You whimpered, wiping the sweat off your forehead. You were close to collapsing, you've never ran this fast nor this long in your entire life, you envy those travellers who have high stamina to run for a long period of time.

Your eyes scan the area once more, thinking of entering the church in hopes to end whatever nightmare you're going through. However, as you gazed at the statue that stood tall and proud, your eyes slowly moving upwards. Your heart had dropped as soon as you saw the familiar figure standing on the palm of the statue.

"...Ayato?..."

Frozen in place, you stared at the man whom you had fell in love with on the first day you arrived in Inazuma. Your relationship was like a fairytale, fictional and sweet, yet, it came true in the end. But this was not the same Ayato you knew and love.

He was faceless.

His whole face was black, like a void. Save for the pair of calm purple eyes that were staring right back at you. Those eyes didn't hold any love for you, they seem to have... a malicious glint in them.

Your heart began picking up in speed when you continued to stare at him, your hands trembling while the both of you stared at eachother for who knows how long. Was he the one chasing you before?

You took a step back, blinking while you do so— and he appears right in front of you.

A scream erupted from your throat, stumbling backwards only to realize he was holding your hand with an iron grip. You tried to slip out of his grasp, but your attempts were futile, his arm holding your hand wasn't even budging the slightest when you tried to pull back with all your might.

With every pull, you grow desperate to escape from the imposter. But his grip slowly grew stronger, drawing a pained cry out of you as you could feel your bones start to break underneath his hand. "A-AYATO! PLEASE!"

Your plea fell into deaf ears, glacing up with teary eyes at the faceless man who stared back at you with no emotion. "PLEASE! LET ME GO!" You sobbed, your knees bucking when you could feel his fingernails digging into your skin, dangerously close to grazing your veins.

"P-Please..." Tears formed in your eyes, your vision blurry as you stared at Ayat— no, he wasn't Ayato. He would never hurt you like this. This... faceless 'Ayato' was not planning to let you free anytime soon.

Then, he lunges at you.

"NO!"

You sat up quick as lightning, your heartbeat pounding loudly in your ears as cold sweat formed on your head. Your loud breathing filled the room, before the sound of fabric shuffling could be heard right beside you. "[Name]? Love, what's wrong?" You almost slapped away the hand that gently held onto your shoulder, your wide frantic eyes gazing to the side to see your beloved partner who has now regained his beautiful features.

He was no longer faceless.

"A-Ayato..." You sobbed, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek, his eyes filled with worry and confusion. "Y-You're..." You couldn't finish your sentence, relief washing over you to see that you had escaped your nightmare. Sensing your distress, his slim yet muscular arms held your waist, gently tugging you towards him. His hold on you was careful and gentle, holding you as though he was afraid of breaking you if he had used any strength.

"Shh... You must've had a nightmare. You're safe now, love. I'm here... I won't let anything hurt you." Ayato's calm voice filled your ears, his tender touches aiding you in slowing down your heartbeat.

You melted in his arms, matching your breathing pattern to the sound of his soothing heartbeat. "...I-I'm sorry for waking you up..." You whispered in a hoarse voice, gazing up into his purple eyes that were full of emotion. Guilt repleaced the relieving feeling you felt before, realizing that you might've made some trouble for him by waking him up in the middle of the night.

"Worry not about me, love. Your safety and comfort will always my number one priority." He chuckled, planting a kiss on your forehead after wiping away your tears.

"I'll stay awake with you as long as you'd like."

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

A/N: I rushed the ending cause I got scared, cause like I was typing this while entering the room and the lights coincidentally starting flashing for a few seconds ;—;

#genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin ayato #genshin ayato x reader #faceless ayato #genshin oneshots

158 notes · View notes

icy-chill · 13 days

Text

Greetings beings of Rotomblr. My name is Alwin, and it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance!

I’m I was a Wyverian from Rutoh Village in Alcala region. My age is almost three centuries old, if I recall correctly. Not that my age matters. My pronouns are he/him.

I’ve been in this world for some time, almost a century and a half. Enough time so that I’ve watched my chosen’s descendants come and go. I don’t know why Arceus took me from my own home (and my universe, if He is to be believed), or why He’s commanded me to be His right hand, but won’t disobey. It would be too much of a risk.

I have a few disciples, but I’m not willing to share any of their names currently.

Even after all this time, I still do not understand my other form. Since Arceus informed me that I am the only two-formed being from another universe in our universe, He gifted me this odd device. He told me that here I may communicate with people from other universe and ask for assistance without risk to my identity here.

I hope to speak with you all more personally soon! Perhaps you can help me with my situation.

[Users arven-x-drayster-4ever, silvallyandweavile, perrins-portfolio, g-max-wildfire, and suckerpunch-n-toxic cannot view the blog icy-chill or its posts.]

//Blanket Blog TWs:

Alwin comes from the universe of Monster Hunter. Themes of both human and animal?(/pokemon/monster/monstie) violence and death will all be present. It won’t be a main feature of the blog, unlike other tws here, but it is part of the “lore”.

There are also heavy religious themes, both Christian and otherwise. (Think Greek mythology.) If this makes you uncomfortable, this is not the blog for you. Alwin will constantly speak of being afraid of Arceus.

Basic eebydeeby and faller tws also !!!

Idk if these are big triggers- so here’s just a few basic themes.

time/space manipulation- like going back in time and traveling to other universes.

omnipotent gods- the big four are always watching. always listening. even if they don’t want to.

corruption- giratina. yeah.

underworlds- the distortion world functions as the underworld. souls/ghosts and the holiday día de los muertos are also important! distortion worlds also got layers and stuff, the one seen in dppt is the final layer where giratina resides with the “eternally punsished”. just felt like mentioning that here.

Spoilers for Monster Hunter Stories and Monster Hunter Stories 2 will also be present!!!

(I’ll update this as we go along)

//Mod: @saywha413 Other blogs in this universe:

Direct family (ask) @ask-sarah-and-co 💎🎸 (irl) @arven-x-drayster-4ever 🥪🐉 (irl) @silvallyandweavile 🌘🪶 (irl) @perrins-portfolio 📸 (irl) @pens-and-coins 🔮🪙

Other (irl) @g-max-wildfire 🎇 (irl) @suckerpunch-n-toxic 🎶 (irl) @icy-chill ❄️ (you’re here!)

Current time: Mid August, 2023 (even though he’s above time)

//Basic dni- no nsfw!

pelipper mail is ok ! just no legendary gift pokemon. you can send mythical pkmn, i just might not accept it. depends on how i feel in the moment

pelipper malice is kinda iffy. feel free to send it in, but I might delete it if I don’t like it

same for musharna equivalents!! ^

sentient pokemon are ok if we keep it within the context of rotomblr being across the multiverse (although Alwin’s a pokemon, he’s a legendary so it’s different. the concept of regular pokemon using technology is foreign)

magic anons are fine- I’ll prob just be choosy with them

I have names of important ask-sarah-and-co chars highlighted in different colors! for fun :)

Hisui chars are welcome to interact! Specifically mentioning volo bc he got up to some shenanigans and is facing punishment (along w Cyrus lol)

//Divider credits: x / x

#pinned #pokemon irl #pkmn irl #rotomblr #pokeblr #pokeblogging #eebydeeby irl #faller irl #monster hunter stories 2 #mhs2 #mhs2 alwin #monster hunter #//posted for my bday :)

6 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs