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fictionadventurer · 1 year

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Pop culture reduces It's a Wonderful Life to that last half hour, and thinks the whole thing is about this guy traveling to an alternate universe where he doesn't exist and a little girl saying, "Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings." A hokey, sugary fantasy. A light and fluffy story fit for Hallmark movies.

But this reading completely glosses over the fact that George Bailey is actively suicidal. He's not just standing there moping about, "My friends don't like me," like some characters do in shows that try to adapt this conceit to other settings. George's life has been destroyed. He's bankrupt and facing prison. The lifetime of struggle we've been watching for the last two hours has accomplished nothing but this crushing defeat, and he honestly believes that the best thing he can do is kill himself because he's worth more dead than alive. He would have thrown himself from a bridge had an actual angel from heaven not intervened at the last possible moment.

That's dark. The banker villain that pop culture reduces to a cartoon purposely drove a man to the brink of suicide, which only a miracle pulled him back from. And then George Bailey goes even deeper into despair. He not only believes that his future's not worth living, but that his past wasn't worth living. He thinks that every suffering he endured, every piece of good that he tried to do was not only pointless, but actively harmful, and he and the world would be better off if he had never existed at all.

This is the context that leads to the famed alternate universe of a million pastiches, and it's absolutely vital to understanding the world that George finds. It's there to specifically show him that his despondent views about his effect on the universe are wrong. His bum ear kept him from serving his country in the war--but the act that gave him that injury was what allowed his brother to grow up to become a war hero. His fight against Potter's domination of the town felt like useless tiny battles in a war that could never be won--but it turns out that even the act of fighting was enough to save the town from falling into hopeless slavery. He thought that if it weren't for him, his wife would have married Sam Wainwright and had a life of ease and luxury as a millionaire's wife, instead of suffering a painful life of penny-pinching with him. Finding out that she'd have been a spinster isn't, "Ha ha, she'd have been pathetic without you." It's showing him that she never loved Wainwright enough to marry him, and that George's existence didn't stop her from having a happier life, but saved her from having a sadder one. Everywhere he turns, he finds out that his existence wasn't a mistake, that his struggles and sufferings did accomplish something, that his painful existence wasn't a tragedy but a gift to the people around him.

Only when he realizes this does he get to come back home in wild joy over the gift of his existence. The scenes of hope and joy and love only exist because of the two hours of struggle and despair that came before. Even Zuzu's saccharine line about bells and angel wings exists, not as a sugary proverb, but as a climax to Clarence's story--showing that even George's despair had good effect, and that his newfound thankfulness for life causes not only earthly, but heavenly joy.

If this movie has light and hope, it's not because it exists in some fantasy world where everything is sunshine and rainbows, but because it fights tooth and nail to scrape every bit of hope it can from our all too dark and painful world. The light here exists, not because it ignores the dark, but because the dark makes light more precious and meaningful. The light exists in defiance of the dark, the hope in defiance of despair, and there is nothing saccharine about that. It's just about as realistic as it gets.

#it's a wonderful life #i know i've probably reached my quota of long posts about this movie #but i kept thinking about it and wanted to organize my thoughts into something a bit more refined #even though i'm mostly just restating what i said yesterday

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frodo-a-gogo · 2 months

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Let us be brutally honest with ourselves and with eachother for a moment. If he weren't obese you motherfuckers would be capable of percieving evrart claires sexy sexy moral ambiguity and complex charms

#i am (lesbian) sipping him like a fine DESSERT WINE #my evidence by the way is very simple and very damning. joyce messier. there i said it.#if you guys can appreciate the fact that Joyce is a complex figure worthy of disgust yes but also worthy of empathy #despite being a venal coward facilitating acts of violence and slaughter of the organized working poor of martinaise in the name of capital #if you can understand that she is a dimensional figure while also being an embodiment of the moral apathy and cruelty if capital owners #but you cant look at evrart and see that he is (while deeply flawed and morally suspect) also a dimensional figure #on top of the fact that his motivations are eminently relatable and dare i say it baser #and his greatest failing imho is in failing to advocate for the interests of *all* the poor of martinaise #opting instead to marginalize the inhabitants of the fishing village in favor of a power grab in the interests of himself and his union #though this is imo a bit of a grey area morally. undeniably a wrong and bad thing to do but done in service of clairs political goals #to gather power to advocate for the working class against ultraliberal monoliths like wild pines and fascistic orgs like krenel #still super wrong but i can follow the moral arithmetic there tho i don't like it #but like my point is if u can see that joyce is evil and pathetic but still cool and sexy but you consider clair flatly distasteful #thats cus hes not conventionally attractive #cus he is *every bit* as dimensional and interesting as joyce and he is not nearly as politically shite even if hes interpersonally a jerk

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 6 months

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Danny couldn't really explain why he always answered this specific summoning ritual. It was like a feeling. One of warmth. Of a mug of hot cocoa in your hands and a nice weighted blanket dropped around your shoulders as a fire blazed in the hearth in front of you, keeping the chill in the rest of the room at bay.

Danny always lost himself in the sensation and found himself back in that stupid circle of protection with that same wierd guy demanding answers. But Danny didn't know anything about a "Lazarus Pit" or a "Pit Madness" let alone a cure for it. Even if he did he wasn't going to tell Red Robin anything after all the times he'd used the marriage summoning spell to get him here.

Earlier on Red had explained it was the only spell known to thier universe that could summon an entity from "The Lazarus Dimension" Which he guessed was another name for the ghost zone and Phantom was the only one to ever be summoned.

Danny couldn't help but wonder why...

After escaping Bird boy and his supernatural pop quiz (oh look, another test for him to flunk) he returns home only to discover his parents had seen him get summoned and accused him of being a ghost that replaced thier baby boy.

Naturalally the next time Red Robin had summoned Phantom he was angry. He was tired and dirty from being on the run from his parents, his worlds US government, and Vlad. Not to mention his own rogues gallery didn't exactly cut him any slack.

So Danny decided that if Red Robin wanted to abuse the power of a marriage ritual than the very least he can do is put his money where his mouth is.

Danny grinned and exited the magic circle, taking delight in Reds widening eyes before he lunged. A kiss sealed the deal, making sure Danny had a safeish place to stay.

After all, married couples in the infinite realms were obligated and even compelled to protect and care for eachother.

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taxidermychrist · 1 year

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need to be ripped apart and left like that for a few days i think

#air the organs out a bit #this makes sense to me #ask to tag

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glitter-alienz · 6 months

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qqchurch · 6 months

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the IDF has an unironic, non-kink, Sperm Retrieval Unit for fallen soldiers

what

#qq posts #i just read that bit of news im just sitting back in awe (horror) at it #i think it wouldve been more normal if it was like #a mandatory sperm bank thing for active personnel but no #there really is a unit that just grabs those swimmers from fresh corpses within 24hrs #on top of that old news about harvesting organs from kills this is just... yeag....

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sparrow-in-boots · 3 months

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my long-haired P propaganda spreads........

#P is definitely an avid reader and rather organized #bet he spends quite a bit of time going through stuff he finds #organizing them and connecting dots #he's quiet but full of thoughts.........#lies of p #liesofp #lies of p fanart #lies of p p #lies of p pinocchio #pardal does art

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sirbloop · 10 days

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Daughter phoenix rise ☀️

#jrwi #jrwi riptide #just roll with it #jrwi show #jrwi fanart #jay ferin #jrwi jay #My piece for a jrwi tarot project organized by moon.thyme on Instagram!! :)#I also posted this on Twitter but it didn’t do so well which is a bit disappointing bc I spent a long time on this #Jay Ferin I am such a big fan #Anyone who knows where the lyric is from I love you so dearly

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certifiedlibraryposts · 5 months

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i used to work as a page at a library

Oh nice, they need a lot of those to be in all the books [i am dragged offstage by a comically long cane]

#FR thats neat!#for those unaware that means anon worked under librarians to organize materials and such #also this is y et another attempt to start getting a bit caught up in asks i promise ive seen your asks i just have not answerd yet #i hope to get through them gradually this week i am very sorry ;-;

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willowser · 6 months

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you had only to look at me—

part two.

bakugou x f!reader

wc: 3.3k+

tags: nsfw (18+), childhood best friend bakugou, dry humping, implied virgin bakugou, a tad angsty at the end.

even before i was touched, i belonged to you; you had only to look at me. — the burning heart, louise glück.

this is a repost.

childhood best friend bakugou is probably a wrestler. a lil' rough-houser.

games of tag end with you tackled to the ground, squashed underneath him until you finally agree that he's the king of the world. whenever your hair is long enough to pull back into a pony-tail or little bun, he's yanking on it to get your attention, harsh, especially if you're ignoring him to talk to anyone else. scraped knees and bruised elbows, coming home missing a single shoe, shirt stretched out and wrinkled at the bottom corner: all katsuki's fault.

it makes you a little volatile, too, in turn.

not so much as him, but you grow up defending yourself; the first black eye he gets is from you (if you don't count the time he hit himself in the face by accident, when you'd started a slap-fight because he was trying to hold you down) and you very quickly learn how "unfair" it (apparently) is to kick him in the groin. your parents spend a lot of time separating you, putting you in opposite corners of the room until one of you stops crying and the other is ready to mumble out an apology. you're not allowed to sit next to each other at holiday events. whatsoever. under any circumstances.

he's your best friend. you wouldn't have it any other way.

in middle school, he's just as insufferable, hardly allows you to talk to any of your girl friends without butting in some how, too loud for anyone's own good. he tries to embarrass you in front of other boys, puts you in a headlock even when he's sweaty — which he is a lot at that point, during puberty — and calls you names that make you want to hide in the bathroom.

("why is he such a jerk?" your friends will ask, trying to fix the mess of your hair during lunch. all your butterfly clips are either missing or broken, crunched under bakugou's scrawny arm. "you should tell on him for being such a bully.")

nobody else treats you the way he does, and you don't treat anyone else that way, either; you never make ugly faces at your girl group, never punch them as hard as you can in the arm, aiming to leave a bruise. with all other classmates, you're — normal, trying to discover what that even means in the grand scope of things, who you want to be as the years pass. you avoid bakugou and his little posse of brats like the plague, because detention is what awaits both of you, should your paths ever cross.

things start to change, seriously, in high-school.

bakugou goes to u.a and you — don't; instead you continue on to the shizuoka high-school without him, along with your group of girls. his time at home and in the neighborhood lessens, even moreso when he moves into the dorms on campus, and the only time you see him becomes those few and far in-between family visits he has time to make; some holidays, he doesn't come home at all.

at first you think it's a good thing, because you've never gotten to flourish while trapped in his armpit. yanking at his hair until he finally lets go in the middle of the hallway has always garnered you some weird looks, odd stares, and you finally stop being labeled aggressive, too, with him gone. boys can talk to you without being stalked by your angry, wiry, chihuahua of a best friend, and you go on dates, ride in cars, have your first kiss.

you miss him from time to time, though you'll die before admitting it, and the yearning doesn't last long whenever he does come home. even when you're seventeen, eighteen, he still lays on the couch and puts his stinky feet in your lap and in your face, purposely puts things too high up on your shelves, leans against the front door so you can't get out when it's time to leave.

(he becomes an immovable object, much to your annoyance; in the past, you've always stood somewhat of a chance against him, knowing all his weak spots, like the clump of hair at the crown of his skull and how ticklish he is on his thighs, but now, after all the training he's been doing — he's huge, unfortunately.

if he grabs your wrists in one hand — like he's never been able to do — and holds them above your head, you're useless to defend yourself; there is an absolutely zero-percent chance you'll ever manage to overthrow him if he sits on you; tickling him is impossible, because his thighs have gotten so muscular that it's hard to grab him, and even if you do manage it, he can nearly crush your hand if he closes his legs together.

bakugou doesn't even look like your scrawny best friend anymore; he looks like the guy that ate your scrawny best friend.)

you graduate and go to college. bakugou graduates and goes to work for best jeanist, in the heart of tokyo. seeing each other means planning on it, making an effort neither of you have ever had to, and there's a lot of radio silence for months at a time. somehow it always comes full circle, though, and it always ends in violence, because you two don't know any other way to be.

you're twenty the first time his touch becomes tight, bruising, purposeful — for new reasons.

it's one of the few times he's off, and you haven't seen each other since his mom's dinner party four months ago. you only agree to come over because his patrol route had taken him through your campus and you'd spotted him across the street in the early hours of the morning, after you got out of class.

now you're both tired, lazing around despite planning to get lunch once the heat died down. together doing nothing; sometimes it's a little alarming how easily the two of you fall into each other, but you've been doing it for so long that it doesn't take a second thought.

bakugou strolls out of his bathroom with damp hair, in nothing but a loose pair of sweats, and you're laying on his couch half-asleep and he puts his wet towel over your face and you ball it up and throw it at him and then he tries to whip you with it.

"stop," you groan, serious, "you're so annoying." when he only twists it tighter, you stick your arm and leg out, deflecting against the wet smack he tries to leave against your skin.

his sharp teeth flash with his ugly little grin, and you try to grab the towel twice, ending up with an angry, stinging lick up the inside of your arm, before he gets too close and you can finally yank it from his hands. you sit up to get a better angle, but you're not as quick as he is, as adept at being a brat, and when he yanks on the towel, your whole body nearly comes off the couch, arms almost coming out of their sockets.

"bakugou!" you squeal, and he cackles, evil, and grabs your hands when you try to smack him. your massive, stinking, freight train of a best friend deposits his entire body on yours, crushing your lungs with his back as you cough, "get off!"

he doesn't say anything, choosing to pretend he's watching whatever is on tv and that he can't hear you — which you could believe, because bakugou likes trash television more than he lets on — and your hands are trapped at your sides and you can't breathe and so you bite him, right in the neck.

"ow, fuck!"

when he moves, he moves fast, and you're only hope of retaliating before he flips around and grabs your wrists and holds you down is to roll the both of you off the couch. his body thuds, deep and heavy, against the carpet, and you trap his hands beneath your knees as you straddle his hips, adjusting your full weight so you can at least try and keep him down.

beneath you, bakugou sneers. "you've got five seconds t'get off me before—"

"one!" you shout obnoxiously, rolling your eyes just to hear his annoyed snort. "two! three! f—"

his body snaps up into a sitting position, nose bumping yours as he rips his hands from beneath your legs. a scream tears out of your throat as you wiggle, surprised, trying your best to stretch your arms over your head and around your back so he can't grab them; if he does, it's game over for you.

"stop!" you shout, choking out a shock of laughter when he brings his legs up, trapping you in his lap against his chest. a little grunt leaves him as you jostle, but the tension at your back never lets up, not even when his mouth sets in a firm line and a sharp exhale leaves his nose. "let me go," you tell him, squirming again as he reaches for your hands. "i'm not playin' around."

"too bad, y'shitty nerd." he says, gruff, and when you stick your tongue out at him, he buries his face in your neck and bites, too, taking advantage of your shock as his fingers close around your wrists.

"no!" you scream again, trying in earnest just to get away from him completely, but he holds your hands behind your back and keeps you squished so tightly into him that you can only breathe shallowly, and his free hand goes to ball into your shirt at your side and —

— and his face is red, you realize, delayed. you can almost feel the heat from his cheeks with him so close, and you take in the flush of his neck, how it spreads down to his bare chest, crimson and fevered. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, nervous, almost.

"what?" you breathe, quiet, as if speaking too loud will break your playful bubble, and his eyes jump around his living room before landing back on you, narrowed and black.

"what?" he echoes, voice pitched and mocking. "you lose, dumbass." and even though he closes his eyes and grits his teeth, there isn't any hiding from how hard he's breathing. how subtle he's trying to be about spreading his legs.

all at once, everything kind of — falls apart.

bakugou is a man now, much to your horror; it feels like you've closed your eyes and opened them in the lap of someone else wearing your best friend's face. there's serious muscle definition in his shoulders and biceps, and you can feel yourself getting lost in the curves and valleys of him like never before. he's — you're — so close. more than it feels like you've ever been, even though you know that's far from true.

this boy used to pin you down in the yard and threaten to lick your face, the both of you grass-stained and covered in sweat. you've tackled him face first into the ocean on various vacations, running behind him quietly and plunging his scrawny, shirtless body into the waves as they rushed forward, uncaring of what you were wearing or how it twisted when you both came up for air.

saliva is still drying on your neck from where he bit you and, unthinking, your eyes dart down to his lips; plumper than you ever realized and parted, just a bit, enough that you can feel his breath on your cheeks. and you wonder —

bakugou grunts quietly, shuffling himself so that his back is leaned against the couch, and you half-expect him to just let you go because things have — changed. but he doesn't.

instead the new position has his legs a little wider and you've sunk a little further and you're now very aware of exactly what's changed, and how much. you can feel him twitch, just barely, and the hand he has at your side balls tighter into your shirt, jostling you minutely in the process.

and finally he opens his eyes and stares at you — cheeks burning, eyebrows furrowed — and you stare back — heat lighting up your body to an uncomfortable degree as your stomach flips.

you wonder what he would do, if you kissed him. what it would feel like. what he would taste like.

you move your hips with purpose, stuck on the new and foreign change it does to him; bakugou's always been a tough little brat, and you made him cry a handful of times when you were younger, but this weakness is — different. there's so much you know about him and yet even more for you to learn, and you find yourself consumed with the desire to explore this new, enticing territory.

his lashes flutter gently when you grind against him, tentatively, and then his head thumps back against the couch as the muscle in his jaw sets. half-lidded, his red-hot gaze jumps from your face down to where you're seated against him and back, and it's only after you move again that you realize — he's watching you, too. discovering.

the fist he has in your shirt loosens and his fingers burn your bare skin when they slip under the material to grip your hip. at any moment, you're half-expecting him to tell you to cut the shit, to shove you off and ask what the hell is wrong with you. why you're being so weird, doing things friends don't do to each other. but he doesn't.

you're almost certain that if you put your hands on his chest, you would be able to feel the mirrored, nervous pace of his heartbeat; it only takes the faintest tug of your hands for him to let you go, his grip falling to the other side of your hips. you can't tell if he means to hold you in place, or keep you going.

you spread your fingers out and, gently, as if you've never touched him before, run your hands up his chest, watching the bob of his adam's apple when you rest them on the sides of his neck. stabilizing yourself a bit, before testing the waters again.

bakugou's eyes are nearly black and when you don't stop, he looks down to resume watching the movement of your hips, the way his sweatpants bunch up and tug, and you feel a little zing up your spine with his every sharp inhale and sharper exhale. even his jaw falls a little slack and, fuck, you've never seen him like this.

you never thought you'd want to, but now — you don't think you'll ever see him any other way again.

his eyes go a little wide when you lean into him, brushing the tip of your nose against his. neither of you have said anything and maybe you should keep it that way, lest the bubble burst, but you feel like you're going a little insane.

quietly, around your own heavy breath, you ask, "does this — feel good?"

you can feel the temperature of his cheeks spike, but he nods shallowly regardless, and you press your mouth into his throat to bite him again, just lightly. it should be so that he's a little biter; the feel of your teeth makes him jump, has him angling his head so that more of his neck is exposed to you. when you soothe the barely-there indentation with the flat of your tongue, his breath hitches and his shoulders shake on a shudder and he groans, like he's angry.

"hah, fuck."

the friction in his lap isn't doing much for you, realistically, but his reaction is what has you aching, has you drawn tighter than a bow string. you feel yourself growing antsy for something that you won't name, because friends don't do that, though you can't help but to wonder if he's ever done it before.

you've had a few boyfriends. had a few experiences that ended quickly and left you feeling exposed and uncomfortable and a little in pain, and even though your girl friends insist that's normal — it's nothing like this. bakugou might not last much longer, if the grip he has on your hips is any indication, but not a single piece of your clothing has been removed and you're hot and getting sort of desperate and you know your underwear are a little more than damp.

you want to dismantle his long-standing composure. you want to be — maybe — the only one that gets to see him fall apart like this.

he's been your best friend your whole life, afterall; this experience should be yours. he should be.

the thought has you shivering a little bit and bakugou bucks up against you, pulling you down hard in his lap. dragging across the thick and solid length of him becomes even more clear and another, stronger zing has you letting out a breathy little sound into his ear. it makes him groan again, this one almost whiny, but he closes his mouth to muffle it and you don't want him to do that so you tighten your fingers in the hair on the crown of his head and — just to see, in a way you've never done before — you quietly whisper,

"katsuki,"

and he loses it.

one of his hands slips up your shirt to splay against your back, forcing you closer to him so he can bury his face in your neck, and his hips become insistent, urgent, rutting up against yours eagerly.

"fuck, oh fuck, fuck," he groans into your skin, fingers gripping you so tightly that you think he might actually leave burns behind, and his shoulders tremble before he goes totally still.

for a little while, you both sit there and let your breathing even out as reality sobers you from whatever lust-drunk haze you'd both been in. distantly, you think you wouldn't mind if he pinned you to the ground the way he always does, only this time to peel all your clothes off, right here on his living room floor. but he doesn't.

doesn't say anything, just shudders every now and again, and you think you're starting to feel the wet spot soaking into the front of his sweatpants.

you pull back just a little to look at him and he lets you, face just as red as he stares back at you, like he's the one waiting for you to freak. a little bit of red has returned to his eyes, though they're still swollen and dark with want.

when you lean in again, to bump your nose against his, bakugou snaps back away from you.

"wh-the fuck are y'doin'?" he shifts his eyes to the ground and they go wide. horrified, maybe. all the blood rushes in your ears and you don't know what to say, so he continues. "i-i don't have time t-to sit around all day, so—" bakugou shakes his head and you think he's going to kick you out, and he must know it, from how stiff you go. "so, you better know what the hell you wanna eat."

your bubble has burst; you nod silently and he glances up at you twice before swallowing.

"well, i can't get dressed with you sitting on me, so get off." when you remain quiet, he finally raises his head to look at you head-on, fisting the edge of your shirt again so that you'll look back. "d'you..." bakugou wets his lips before biting them, "need anything?"

"uh," maybe to shove your head down the drain and drown yourself, so that you can get rid of all the not-so-nice feelings that are creeping up beneath your skin. instead of that, you tell him, "just the bathroom, maybe."

"hurry up then," he mutters and even tries to roll his eyes, though it feels anything but casual. "don't...take for-fuckin'-ever."

and then he's up, quick to stand so that his back is to you as he disappears around the corner to his room, leaving you to yourself, trying to smooth out the wrinkle he's left in the corner of your shirt.

#this is my attempt at being a bit more organized akhfkahfa #the second part ends so abruptly that i'm tempted to extend it a little more............#if i don't put up the second part right away it's bc i'm thinking about it LOL #bakugou x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #i did not even check over this for typos whoops #not a one shot oh well #✿ willow writes #✿ one shot: bakugou

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omegalomania · 3 months

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RESOURCES FOR PALESTINE:

Palestinian Children’s Relief Fund

UNRWA

Islamic Relief

Safebow Gazan Aid

Palestine Red Crescent Society

Help Gaza Children (+info)

Defense for Children - Palestine

Care for Gaza

Anera

Doctors Without Borders - Palestine

Medical Aid for Palestinians

eSims for Gaza

i'll be leaving requests open for as long as i have the momentum and funds to do so! send me an ask or a dm if you want to send donation proof + your request (or you can ask for my email or discord if you'd rather not send it over tumblr). if you can't afford to donate, boosting always helps. no amount is too small. thank you!

#fall out boy #fob #id in the alt text #put together in a bit of a hurry cause i was in wrist prison last week #not sure if palestine tags are being suppressed still but im leaving it untagged to be safe so...spread it organically if u can

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poisonous-honey · 4 months

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Soul Crushing Guilt

(This is a re-upload: Originally posted to UniverseUchu on December 2nd, 2022)

You've treated them all like toys. In your defence this was just another video game to you a couple of weeks ago, but they're actually real with thoughts and feelings of their own. You don't know how to feel.

Who’s Here! Venti

Contains: isekai reader, Self Aware Genshin (not the Cult SAGAU), Insecurities (reader), Hurt/Comfort I guess it’s called

Note: I will say this takes place in the middle of a story, but it works on its own and I really liked how this turned out. I do have more written, but it's incomprehensible (even after a whole year it's still incomprehensible lmao)

Sitting on the cliffside of Starsnatch is not where you intended to be at this time, but your soul crushing guilt and insecurities have led you here. You needed to be away from all the positivity from everyone in Mondstadt. Their kindness was only worsening your mood. Staring over the edge, lost deep inside your head, you almost miss the way the wind whirls around you before you hear the one person you wanted to avoid the most right now.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Why’d you leave without saying anything? Everyone back at Mond is worried, you know.”

You don’t say anything in response and let Venti walk up and sit next to you. You both stay silent and watch the waves crash onto the beach. Venti occasionally takes glances in your direction, but for the most part his eyes are on the scenery. After a few minutes, he tries asking you again.

“I know you told us that we aren’t overwhelming you, but please, if we actually are-”

“That’s not the reason I left Venti.”

“Then what is it?”

Silence is all that greets him. “Please, we just want you to be comfortable with us. We can’t help if we don’t know.”

Hearing him say that only makes you feel more guilty. They’re all so nice to you, and for what? The pressure and the guilt keeps building and building the more you stay here. Everyone’s been so understanding and kind, but all you’ve done before is use them any which way. You’ve judged them for superficial reasons and have even gotten them killed on numerous occasions. Venti showing up and putting the blame on himself and the others like they’re the reason you left just adds onto your shame as tears start to escape your eyes.

Upon seeing your eyes water, Venti slightly panics. “W-Wait, why are you crying!? I’m sorry for whatever-”

“Venti please stop.”

You turn to look Venti in the eyes, and see the panic and worry etched onto his face. It only makes you feel worse.

“Venti… Why are you here? Why do you keep following me?’ You look away from him, trying to keep from balling on the spot. ‘Why are you so nice to me?”

Hearing this, Venti’s face slowly scrunches in confusion. “What do you mean? Of course, I’m going to be nice to you. Where is this coming from?”

“You were conscious the entire time I was playing. I used you all like you were dolls for my amusement. After I got you, didn’t you feel like I was holding you captive or-or like some sort of toy forced to do my bidding? I don’t understand why no one hates me! I feel so guilty of everything I’ve said and done, but everyone’s apologizing to me like they’re in the wrong, and I don’t get it! Especially you! As the God of Freedom, don’t you hate me for taking away your own freedom from you? I just don’t understand… So why…” Unable to continue, you look away as you try to wipe your eyes and wait for Venti to finally tell you he hates you. That he’s going to stop pretending and get up and leave you alone. In your mind you know he would never, that's not who he is, but fear and anxiety is irrational.

Your breath hitches as you feel his hands land on your cheeks and turn your head to look at him. Instead of the disgust or apathy your heart was expecting, Venti’s face is filled with sorrow.

“I can’t believe you would think so low of me.’ He looks downwards and wipes away a few tears with his thumbs before looking back at you with nothing but care. ‘I guess from your point of view that’s a reasonable assumption to make, but you seem to be forgetting one key detail.”

You stare at him as he proceeds to give you the smuggest look you’ve ever seen on him. “I came home extremely early on my banner, didn’t I?”

What he’s saying doesn’t make any sense to you. He’s already treating you extremely differently than you anticipated, and now his question is putting your already malfunctioning brain into overdrive. What did his banner have to do with anything?

“What? Venti I-I don’t understand. What are you trying to…’ Finally, it all starts to click into place as your eyes widen, and his stupid grin gets larger. ‘You… Did you influence the banner wishes???”

Venti laughs joyously as he lets go of your face. His eyes sparkle like he’s recounting the best moment of his life.

“Why yes, I did! I actually got in a lot of trouble for that! It's part of the reason you lost the next 50/50, but I couldn’t miss the chance to join your team. I refused to wait another second.”

“But why? I still don’t under-”

“I have the freedom to make my own choices, do I not? I wanted to join your team, so I did.”

His expression changes from smug to such a soft look. You have a hard time believing it is being directed at you.

“Why, yes, I may be the God of Freedom, but I’m also simply one of the many characters this game has to offer. I’m one of your many characters in particular. And out of such a colourful cast of individuals, I was your favourite. To be the reason someone even downloaded our game in the first place sends me over the moon. For everyone else, you still give their lives a purpose and have earned everyone’s respect. Sure, you might be a bit crass, but even when you were rude or made a mistake, you still treated everyone with more care than necessary. I especially could feel and hear the level of adoration you had for me through the screen. To me, there’s nothing I want more than to travel by your side for as long as you’ll have me.”

Such a heartwarming and earnest speech from Venti has your eyes start to water again. Not all of your insecurities and guilt have been lifted, you don’t think that kind of guilt will be something you can get rid of, but with Venti here…

“You’re allowed to stay for as long as you want.”

He cups your cheeks again while looking straight into your eyes.

“Then till death do we part, my dear player.”

You break down and cry as Venti pulls you in for a hug. With Venti by your side, you know he’ll help you through your guilt with as much care and love as you’ve given him.

#sagau #self aware genshin #Venti x reader #Genshin x reader #x reader #self-indulgence ftw baby #I don’t know if I’m going to post more of this #If I am I’ll make a header to organize just a little bit #I really love what I have #but I’d need to heavily edit it because what I actually have written down is nigh incomprehensible #Pois.Posts #Pois.Writes

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