#truly his entire existence revolves around and for him
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Pikelan is probably the most complex CR ship and more people need to realize that instead of branding it as the "haha funny gnomes" ship.
because the entirely of Pikelan revolves around Scanlan, a very charismatic bard who flirts with literally everyone around him but is head-over-heels in love with his cleric friend but is tragically dogshit at expressing it so he resorts to doing crude bits and gags that ultimatly mask who he truly is.
And then you have Pike, a cleric brimming with self-confidence, who absolutely loves Scanlan for who he is, but is constantly getting mixed signals, because on one hand, he's constantly doing crude jokes and flirting with every person he sets his sights on (even so far as going after his unknown daughter) but on another, he tenderly holds her while she's bleeding and he's constantly at her side during battle and even tends to her emaciated brother for her and it's beautiful to watch, but the moment, the moment she brings it up, he reverts back to his crass personality and it just leaves her reeling about who he truly is.
And then we get to Bards Lament, and Scanlan, after tip-toeing around his true emotions for so long, finally snaps and lets everything he's been feeling (all the pain, and self-loathing manifested as anger towards everyone else, because even in his darkest moment, he's still so dogshit at expressing it for what it truly is) and Pike, who's been wrestling with these mixed signals, finally gets his true feelings on what he feels, calling her magic weird, hating that the same magic that has kept him alive and safe for so long brought him back to his sad existence, hating her for doing it. In the end, Scanlan leaves, just as Pike left the first time and the second time. And Pike stays behind, watching as he heads towards somewhere where she cant follow, abandoning the team and her and grog and everything they've built for themselves. She loves him, and him leaving brings her to that point.
The two are split apart, and despite the anger and hurt, the need for connection with each other is so strong. Scanlan reveals that he dident fully leave Taldorei at first, that he was only 20 miles away in another town entirely, listening to Pike's earing conversations. And eventually, when Scanlan is on another continent, he finds a temple of the Everlight (or just simply begins talking to Everlight) and prays, prays for guidance on finding forgiveness for what he said and did. He's deeply in love with pike, and still is, going to her god for answers to his problems, the quickest connection to Pike that he has between one giant ocean and a continent.
And Pike, despite holding a very rightful disdain for what he said to her, keeps him up to date, informs him of her happenings with the people of Whitestone. She should fucking hate his guts and yet the person she wants to speak to at the end of her day is a bard who (for all she knows) threw his earing away and traveled to some far off place, forever gone from Vox Machina, from her. Yet she keeps speaking.
They switch roles, with Scanlan becoming the quiet solitary one seeking forgiveness for his actions and Pike becoming the people oriented one.
When they reunite, it's tense and sad and angry. So many things said in anger and hurt and they don't really know where to step in the case that something, anything might send them back to that angry, angry place. And suddenly their back at the same place they were before, before the fight.
Pike is, again, trying so hard to sift through the mixed signals he's giving because he's being Scanlan again! Charming bard, essential party member, more confident than he's ever been! but now he's standing near the back and holding his hands and apologizing with a soft voice that she hasn't heard in over a year and a half and rebuilding the bridges he's burned and she doesn't know what to think!
And Scanlan is giving an honest effort at trying to fix what he's broken. He's working harder than ever, he's apologizing. He tries very hard to have conversations with people and fixing what he can. But, again, he's Scanlan, who is less dogshit at expressing what he feels, but still pretty dogshit none the less, and now he's a crime boss and still a beloved bard, but he's also surrounded by the friends, some of them he loves so dearly and he's trying, he's trying so hard
Eventually, everything is forgiven and in the end, Pike and Scanlan come to term with themselves and each other. Pike comes to terms with knowing that Scanlan is a complex person, a broken person just trying to figure his way through this world, just as she had done.
in the end, Pike becomes the person Scanlan feels the most free to be around, one where he doesn't have to put on the mask of a performer, where he can just be Scanlan the gnome instead of Scanlan, bard extraordinaire. and Pike comes to terms with knowing that Scanlan is a complex person, a broken person just trying to figure his way through this world, just as she had done before.
and together, they are beautiful reflection of each other.
#critical role#yes theyre haha funky gnomes but theyre more than that and more people need to see it#Pikelan is a good ship ya'll just lacked critical reading skills#between him seeking forgivness through reflection and her choosing to liver her best self through socialization#between Scanlan being the reason Pike's ressurection succeeded and Pike being the reason Scanlan's ressurection succeeded#to Scanlan watching pike walk away when she needed her time away to Pike watching Scanlan walk away when he needed to leave#Pike and Scanlan invented being parallel mirrors of each other#pike trickfoot#scanlan shorthalt#pikelan#critical role c1#the legend of vox machina#critical role spoilers#tlovm#tlovm spoilers#pike and scanlan are romantic foils as well as character foils and its a beautiful back and forth that they have
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“Mike’s not gonna forgive this one” mlvns are gonna be shook when the only thing Mike is doing next season is try to save Will from Vecna’s bullshit lmao
Tbh I think a lot of people really aren’t prepared for how much s5 is going to subvert their expectations about Mike’s character, not just his sexuality/liking Will/the focus his and Will’s relationship will get, but the fact that he has motivations, desires and inner conflicts that don’t revolve around El. He’s not going to be her “protector”, terrified of losing her and putting her on a pedestal for the rest of their lives. He’s going to heal from that trauma of s1 and let her go, and discover what actually makes him happy. I’m literally so excited to see him develop his understanding of love and relationships and who he is. But to some El truly is the be all & end all of his existence and the entire point of his arc over the series, so the whiplash will be pretty significant.
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The Queen’s Guard- Chapter 3: Closer
knight!simon riley x queen!reader - featuring our favorite Scot in this chapter👀
word count: 3.2k
[<<< chapter 2]
Smile. Nod. Greet. Don’t forget to give your husband a loving look from time to time- look at him like he were the sun, the great star you revolve around. Repeat.
The King’s departure feast is tasteful, though ostentatious to be sure- just how he likes. Especially when they are held in his grace’s honor. Oh, if you could roll your eyes right now without being seen, you would.
All this for such an arrogant bastard.. truly a waste.
But you can’t deny the beauty that surrounds you, no matter the reason. The Great Hall had been thoroughly lavished in emerald silks, dripping with jewels and flowers of your choosing-
It was one of the few duties you didn’t mind giving your input and opinions on, working with the different tradesmen of the kingdom; you found you rather enjoyed partaking in the planning portion, enjoyed the creative freedom given to you behind the scenes-
But.. attending them, well, that’s a different matter entirely. They were nothing but an exhaustive performance, a true test of your goodwill and patience-
“You look positively captivating tonight, wife.” The King drawls in your ear, his hand creeping up your thigh under the table. And it’s so difficult to fight the urge to jerk away from his touch when all you can think about is the last time that hand was on you, your lip had been bruised and swollen for days afterward-
Smiling down at your plate of untouched food, you give him a sweet and temperate laugh,
“You flatter me, Your Grace.”
The hand squeezes too tightly, not painfully, but certainly not gentle or loving- it’s a possessive touch, one that worries you, makes your shoulders tense and your movements turn robotic as you place your fingers over his,
“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you battle-ready, My King.. it suits you.”
You exchange pleasant smiles, his eyes on you far longer than you’re used to. It does not soothe you though, or make your cheeks flush warm. No, they’re too invasive, and the feel of them on your exposed skin makes your stomach sour-
A quiet sound trickles into your ears from behind your seat, it’s one that you had learned is deliberate, purposeful- a simple series of taps, always the same, random to everyone but you. Simon’s way of communicating- I’m here. I see you.
You tilt your head toward the insignificant little noise, only just able to see the inky outline of his shoulder in your peripherals, but it’s enough. Enough to ease your nerves and calm your relentless mind.
Knowing that he’s right there, always keeping you within arms reach- but something is different now. You can feel it. And you can’t quite grasp how, or even the exact moment the already anomalous lines in your relationship had somehow become even more blurred, but they had.
And this fading of the proverbial line in the sand, the crumbling of all your boundaries, should most certainly not make you feel the way it does- should not make your core turn molten, or your head swim in a dizzying way by just the sound of his voice, his presence-
He hasn’t even touched you again since that night, after the King left your chambers, which must have been more than a month ago, you think-
Because it was a fluke, it was the man sworn to protect you simply aiding you- he saw you bleeding and was the only one around to help.
But, he also didn’t retreat.
No, you noticed the very next morning how Simon stood just a step or two closer than he did before, following behind you like your omnipresent shadow, the sinister black armor becoming well known in the castle.
Unsurprisingly, he had garnered quite a reputation within court by merely existing at your side, speculation about his history running rampant- and you only recently heard from your lady-in-waiting that many commoners, and noble folk alike, had taken to referring to your new guard as “The Ghost”-
And oh, how fitting of a name- because you feel truly haunted by the enigmatic man; haunted by those eyes, haunted by the softness of his touch, haunted by the yearning and desire to feel it again- No. No..
Wherever you go, your dark omen follows- and for more reasons you can’t explain or justify, you find equal parts pleasure and power in his presence. Because where Lords and Noblemen once might have dismissed you entirely; or the opposite, let their eyes linger or their tongues turn crude- they now avert their gaze, they regard you intently and with due respect; and their Queen’s guard, with fear-
Tap-tap .. Tap-tap-tap
A smirk tugs at your lips, and you hope he sees it- of course, he does, and if you were able to look back at him, you would see his own smile settle at the corners of his eyes as he watches you relax slightly.
After a moment longer, you force your attention back to the festivities, eyes widening as you hear a booming voice,
“Your Grace!”
The distantly familiar accent dredges through your memories until you’re finally able to recognize his face in the crowd- seeing none other than Lord John MacTavish, your Johnny, looking back at you.
It had been years since you last saw your closest cousin-
Well, cousin is a loose term, isn’t it? We aren’t technically related by blood- but, we had grown up together as family, and neither of us had ever seen or known each other as anything else..
Yet, despite time and distance, he looks exactly the same. Blue eyes bright and full of life, and his smile infectious as it stretches ear to ear. His dark hair is longer than you remember- but now cut extremely close to his scalp on the sides, turning the messy chocolate waves on top into an overgrown sort of mohawk-
Oh, Sweet Johnny.. never one to conform to any sort of standard-
“Lord MacTavish, it’s been too long.” You say, watching him sweep into a dramatic bow, his antics forcing you to bite back a wide grin,
“Your Majesty,” Johnny turns to the man sitting by your side, “With your permission, may I have Her Grace’s hand in a dance?”
The King watches him for a moment with utter disinterest, much like he regards most of his subjects, but eventually concedes with a nod- and you don’t hesitate to push away from your chair, your ladies rushing to straighten the flowing gown but you brush them away politely, gathering the skirts in your hands instead.
Rounding the long table, you take Johnny’s arm, letting him escort you through the crowd- and you wish more than anything in this moment you could just be another woman floating across the marble floor, you wish you could toss the crown on your head away, remove the green and gold colors of your husband’s house, the crest from around your neck-
“Still always so stuck in your head, eh, Hen?”
The dance you fall into is simple in its movements, with your palm flat against his above your heads, gliding in a slow circle as the music softly builds,
“Hard not to be- but this is helping, I must admit.” You tease, giving him a wry smile.
His head tips back with a warm laugh, and you’re instantly flooded by memories of your childhood with him- of growing up together, his ceaseless pranks and joking, of the hours you would spend scouting through the woods together, soiling all your dresses, and ruining the pretty braids the maids would put in your hair.
The trouble you got in for him was “unbecoming of the future Queen” as your mother would say, but Johnny had been your best friend- much to her and your father’s chagrin, and no amount of their preaching ever kept you away from his never ending mischief.
It was like that up until he left for the army, and while you both had tried your best to keep up through letters like you promised, after your coronation, time for anything other than your duties always seemed to escape you-
“So, how’s married life treatin’ ya, Your Majesty?”
You roll your eyes at his quip, giggling when he picks you up, your hands holding his wrists at your waist until you’re on the ground again and stepping in time with the next bit of music,
“Oh, I’m sorry, shouldn’t you be married by now, m’Lord?”
Again, he laughs, ducking under your arm before spinning you both gracefully- your back against his, though your heads turned toward each other to keep up the hushed conversation,
“Glad to see your tongue is still made o’ thorns, Grianach.”
His old nickname for you stirs up a sadness that feels overwhelming, almost tangible, and the sting of tears prick at your eyes as you turn back to face him- knowing the dance would too quickly be coming to an end.
It’s during the last, slow spin that you catch Simon’s gaze- watching you from just beyond the edge of the crowd, eyes raking over your body until he sees the turmoil in your expression. And it’s like your pinned beneath him with the weight it carries, holding the fleeting contact even from a distance,
“Sunny?”
You blink once, realizing the music has easily flowed into the next tune, something slower, more somber- and when you blink again, Simon’s moved, and you struggle to not immediately look around for his familiar form, seeking the comfort he unwittingly provides you.
“Ah.. Tha’ the new Queen’s Guard I’ve heard so much about?”
Johnny offers his arm again, looking down at you with a lop-sided smirk,
“It is. And, what of it?” You ask innocently enough, finally spotting him standing a head above the rest, stoically taking his spot behind your chair- eyes roaming over Johnny’s face, still sizing this unfamiliar man up, watching how comfortable you seem with him. He misses nothing-
“Not really your style, is all.. The big, gloomy bastard doesn’t seem like he fits for my li’ bit o’ sunshine.”
How could you tell him that his sweet nickname, Grianach, Sunny, was what actually didn’t fit you anymore?
But you suppose if he stays around long enough, he’ll surely realize you relate more to the dark side of the moon than you did the sun these days..
“He’s been a good guard.. better than any I’ve had.”
Johnny nods, watching the man in question as you approach the giant table,
“Good, tha’s good, Sunny.. you deserve the best, always have.”
You don’t know why his words take you by surprise, why they make your feet feel like lead in your shoes-
“Will you be staying, Johnny?” You speak lowly, not wanting to let go of him, not when he’s the closest thing you’ve had to home in so, so long,
“Aye.. a week is all I can spare, but I’ll be here with ya, all right?”
All you can give is a weak nod before he bows for the King, kissing your cheek and bowing in front of you, as well. And those usually vibrant eyes dull a bit when he sees your apprehension- but he smiles anyway, backing down the steps and disappearing into the crowd once more.
And you do your best to plaster a warm grin on your face as you move to take your seat again, brushing past Simon, you lean down, speaking only in the King’s ear,
“I’ve grown tired-“
He waves his hand at you before you’ve even finished speaking, focused on one of his advisors- the conversation of his imminent travel far more important than anything you might have to say.
Well, haven’t the gods granted me luck tonight..
Your exit is a quiet affair, and as soon as you’re out of the Great Hall, you feel some of the tension melt away- the further you get from the raucous, the easier it is to breathe, the weight easing itself off your shoulders with every step.
“Go ahead and ready my chambers, please, Elia. I’d like to take the air.”
She goes without question, your other handmaids flitting right behind her as you take the next hallway to your right- the one that leads towards the courtyard and the gardens.
You can hear him behind you, those long, steady steps contrasting your shorter ones. Neither of you speak, but you feel his proximity intensely- always so frighteningly aware of him when you’re alone.
And it’s enough to drive you mad, how much he affects you. Because you’re so certain he feels nothing, being in your presence is his duty. He’s a man who has seen too much, experienced too much, to let the likes of you get under his skin-
The guards bow their heads graciously as they push the solid wood out of the way for you to pass through; and it’s as if the night air were a salve for your restless soul- fresh and perfectly chilled, the whispers of fall in the breeze. Just enough to get you out of your head, if only for a moment.
“Ser Simon..”
You walking slowly, your steps languid as your fingers brush over the leaves and petals, absently studying the textures as they feel under the moonlight-
“People keep asking if I like my new guard..” You ramble, moving beyond the entrance of the tall, maze-like hedges, leading you both deeper as you speak,
“But, I don’t think I’ve asked the same of you..”
Don’t.. don’t do this. Just turn around- go back to your rooms. This is petty and useless, nothing but disappointment can come of it..
“Not sure I follow, Your Grace.”
A chill creeps down your spine at the rasp in his voice, from the cold or disuse, you’re not sure. You turn with a saccharine smile, though it quickly falls away as you take him in-
He’s so entirely otherworldly like this, cast in the milky light from above, the shimmering onyx of his armor almost glowing under the pale moon- and when he shifts his weight, the light dances around him, like it simply chooses to bend and move at his will.
Beautiful.. Can monsters be beautiful?
You turn away again, unable to stand it for a moment longer. This was indeed a mistake, you should not be here.
Alone. With him-
“Do you like it?” You ask the hedge, your voice soft now, your confidence having waned, “Your new post..”
Is it seconds that pass? It can’t be minutes.. surely- but gods, it feels like an eternity. The silence stretches on around you- infinitesimal in its reach.
See? That’s enough of an answer to a silly, foolish question. Like he really has a choice in the matter of liking or disliking-
You just barely feel him before you hear him- but how? How had you not heard him move before? Maybe you were right from the very beginning- he is no man; maybe the rumors are true, and he really is a ghost.
He isn’t touching you, but you think if you took even half a step back you would be able to feel the cold steel of his breastplate.
You keep your eyes focused ahead, the dark not really a hindrance because you aren’t truly seeing anymore, so consumed by him that hardly anything else seems important- that is, until something heavy is placed in your hand.
The weight of it is awkward, and you bring your other hand to hold the object before looking down.
His helmet.
It stares back at you, devoid of the warmth you usually find there, without his amber eyes, the black metal is just that- cold, and harsh.
You have every opportunity to turn, to finally gaze upon the face that you had pondered on far too often- to confirm the features you imagined late in the night.
But, you don’t. You wouldn’t, not with the trust he had very literally placed in your hands- you don’t want to betray that, you don’t want to betray him.
“I do.” He whispers against the shell of your ear, his nose grazing over the sensitive skin of your neck as his head dips lower- it’s a slow, tentative movement, and once again your mind goes to war with itself-
Danger. This is dangerous- he is dangerous. If anyone were to see you like this, they would have your head and his, too- Hells, the King himself would probably volunteer to take it from your shoulders-
Yet, when you feel him nuzzle just behind your ear again, your mind quiets, body moving on its own. Just like the moonlight, you bend to him without thought- letting your head tilt to expose more of your skin, your lips parting in a shuddering breath when he inhales deeply through his nose.
A growl resonates from his throat, it’s fleeting, but it ignites an ache so deep between your legs it nearly takes your breath away-
“And, have I served you well, My Queen?”
You shake your head, your grip on his helmet turning almost painful as you struggle to stand straight.
“Why must you insist on saying it like that..”
The low chuckle that rumbles through his chest sounds so perfect in your ears, and the weight of his forehead gently dropping to rest on your shoulder makes you bite your lip-
“Like what?” He coos, and you can hear a barely concealed smile in his voice now, one that has the most delightful shiver snaking its way through your entire body.
He was giving you so much, but you so desperately wanted more. You’ve never wanted a man’s hands on you in the way you need his at this moment.
What would they feel like roaming over your body? Would his touch remain as tender as he’s handled you thus far?
The thought alone hazes your mind even further.
A small hum escapes as you allow yourself to spare a glance at the deep ebony locks you can see now-
Hm.. do ghosts have hair? And are they suppose to feel so warm..
The thought brings a sad smile to your lips, your cheek settling against the side of his head, and your eyes slipping shut; you relish in the feel of his hair on your skin- but, it’s that very same feeling that causes you to tense, pulling away.
Because too suddenly, all you can imagine is the feeling of his soft hair in your hands, matted with blood as you hold his head in your lap- his body cold and lifeless..
No- I will be the death of him.. I can’t- I couldn’t..
He moves just as abruptly as you do, though his motions are still so gentle as he rises to his full height again,
“I apologize-“
“No..” You cut him off, turning only enough to let him take the helmet from your hands, “Please, don’t- I-“
Words fail you. And your heart sputters in your chest as embarrassment, and shame, and grief burn through you-
“I shouldn’t- I just.. We can’t.” You whisper hoarsely, your voice pathetic even in your own ears.
Strong hands turn you, and you don’t know why your eyes clamp shut, but they do- you keep them closed, breathing in through your nose, which is just another mistake because his scent is so strong now you want to wrap yourself in it. Keep it with you-
A single finger tilts your chin up, a silent command to open your eyes, to look at him.
He’s covered again, but his gaze is so open as he looks down at you- studying you in that way that only he can, though it’s impossible to miss the unrest behind his expression,
“I know..”
[chapter 4 >>>>]
#knight!ghost#and his queen#I can just hear the way he says my queen and it ruins me every time#cod fandom#call of duty#simon ghost riley#cod fanfic#john soap mactavish#ao3 fanfic#simon riley x reader#simon x reader#medieval au#lord mactavish#your honor I love them#fic: the queens guard#also on ao3
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The Tragedy of Teru: An Unnecessarily Long Thesis
I’ve seen some people ask: why the sudden change in Teru? Why did he suddenly go from a total menace who was okay with choking Mob to unconsciousness to a good guy/best friend type whose moral axis now completely revolves around Mob? I’ve seen some people claim that Teru’s redemption was so sudden that it’s unconvincing.
I don’t think the redemption was a sudden shift in Teru’s character. Actually, it’s the most natural progression for him. Consider Teru’s life circumstances. His parents completely abandoned him with no remorse. It wasn’t even because of Claw, they were just “busy” and moved overseas. He has no one to look after him at home. His relationships at school are largely superficial. He probably has severe attachment issues because of childhood neglect. He has no connections, no one truly rooting for him.
It’s an extremely shitty situation—but Teru convinces himself that he’s okay. In fact, he’s better than okay. He’s doing great. He’s doing the best because he’s better than everyone else—he has psychic powers, he’s popular, he’s talented in pretty much everything. Why would he need people to love and care for him when he has everything else “average” people dream of?
And so Teru’s entire emotional state revolves around a shaky thesis: that he’s better than everyone else. The main character. Main characters don’t need families. They don’t need love and support. Teru’s too superior for those things. And he HAS to be superior, because if he’s not, if he’s like everyone else, then he has to acknowledge the facts: that his parents left him, that there’s no clear cut purpose for his life, he’s completely alone, and there’s nothing he can do about it.
If Teru’s the main character, then trauma and abandonment are just part of a tragic backstory---necessary hardships that will pave the way for all the great and superior things that Teru is destined to do. Whereas “average” people don’t have tragic backstories. When “average” people are abused and abandoned, it’s not part of some epic tale. It’s just sad. If Teru’s average, then the trauma is meaningless. Purposeless.
And the weight of that is just too much for him to bear.
And so he dates girls he doesn’t like, and he cheats on tests, and he wins at sports, and he runs a gang. And he copes. For a while, it works.
And then it doesn’t.
Enter Shigeo Kageyama.
Mob’s existence rocks Teru’s world. The idea that there’s another natural child esper as powerful as him shatters his core belief that psychic powers made him the main character. Not only that, but Mob withstands all of Teru’s attacks, and refuses to fight back--a move that Teru finds insulting.
When Mob insists that psychic powers are average, and that Teru’s average, Teru is enraged. (“You’re the only one who can make that point. And that’s why your very existence pisses me off!”)
Finally Mob puts the nail in the coffin: “You and I are the same. We both have no self-confidence.” Up until this point, I believe that NO ONE has genuinely seen through Teru like Mob does, or, at least, they didn’t point it out. Mob sees Teru for who he is: a sad and insecure kid with no real connections. And THAT’S what makes Teru put him in a chokehold.
In a move of infinite kindness, Mob refuses to use his powers against Teru. Only when Mob is knocked unconscious are his true powers revealed. Teru then sees how outmatched he was from the very beginning, and how intentional Mob’s pacifism was towards him.
Teru did nothing but try to hurt Mob, but Mob refused to hurt him back. This is probably the most intentional love and care Teru’s received in a long time.
It’s a turning point. Because here’s the thing about Teru: he latches on to any gesture of genuine kindness and holds onto it for dear life. Mob’s kindness is enough to make Teru completely reject his old ideals.
Teru’s emotional state depended on the idea that he’s superior, but now that this belief has been dismantled, he needs a new life purpose to fill the vacuum, something else to distract from the loneliness in his life. And Mob has given Teru a new purpose: to be a good person. A kind person. Teru wants to be Kageyama’s rival—not in terms of psychic power—but in terms of kindness. (That’s why Teru claims to have won against ???% even though he’s clearly overpowered. He was talking about winning a contest of kindness, about repaying the kindness Mob showed him when they met by refusing to use his psychic powers to hurt ???%---even when ???% was hurting him).
So, Teru’s new purpose: kindness and doing good for the world. It’s a good purpose to have. And Teru is good at being kind. He risks his life to fight Claw just because he cares about Mob. He takes down Claw’s splinter organizations all on his own. He fills in at spirits and such for probably negligible pay when Mob trains for the race. He gives advice. He practices intentional humility (sometimes). He always says thank you.
And, of course, he puts his life on the line to stop ???%’s rampage and get through to Mob. He almost dies to save every last civilian.
Teru is good at being good. He is the type of person who spins every stray thread of kindness he receives into gold. He multiplies every rare gesture of love tenfold. It’s a beautiful example of how the human spirit can withstand so much neglect and agony and evil and still come out good in the end. Teru’s name means “brilliance,” and his whole character is about shining a brilliant light into the darkness that surrounds him.
As much as I’d like to believe that’s the whole picture, it’s not. There’s a darker, sadder side to Teru’s redemption
Don’t get me wrong, I believe that Teru cares about his friends very much and is a genuinely kind and good person. BUT that’s not the only reason he’s kind and good. I believe that Teru is so obsessed with being good/putting Mob on a pedestal because “being good” is his new coping mechanism.
See, his coping mechanism before was being superior and having refined psychic powers. But, since Kageyama dismantled that, he found a new purpose: being good. And he uses the pursuit of being good to distract from his empty apartment, neglectful parents, and lack of personal connections.
And isn’t there something so utterly heartbreaking about that? Think about Teru single-handedly taking down all of Claw’s splinter organizations. Think of him spending constant hours refining his psychic powers to be able to beat the bad guys. Going into the forest to meditate to “improve” himself. Training the awakening lab kids. Working out until he is more ripped than any 13-year-old should be. All of it, he probably enjoys, but is it not also a distraction? Is he doing these things solely to become better or also to busy himself and fill the days? Anything to not be by himself, tiny and alone in an empty apartment with strange noises and the bleak reality that there is no one, no one who will even know if Claw sneaks into his house and kills him.
Teru is a tragic character. At the beginning of the story, he is a menace who is completely alone. He is then redeemed. He orients his life towards being good--and gains some meaningful connections, but at the end of the story, Teru is still functionally alone most of the time. Though they care for each other very much, Mob and Teru don’t really hang out in canon. (Fanbook) They’re not even on a first name basis. Teru comes by Reigen’s office sometimes, but not often. He still has no one at home to care for him.
At the end of it all,—months and months later—Teru still has to ask for the occasional hang out with Mob. He is sipping tea sadly when Mob talks about his friendship with Tsubomi, jealous. And then he will go home to an empty apartment, alone. There is no one to take care of him when he is sick. There is no one to discipline him, or tell him “no,” or to prepare him for his first date, or to help him apply for college.
And doesn’t that go against the usual abandoned child narrative? Where the abandoned and neglected child ends the story with so many deep connections and so much love pouring into them that they can barely breathe? Where is that love for Teru? He is doing everything right. He is repaying all of the love and kindness he has ever received, so why is he still alone?
Teru never talks about any friendships besides Mob or adult influences besides Reigen. I truly believe Teru is still relying on his sparse interactions with Mob and Reigen to stay afloat emotionally. And he’s not used to kindnesses---when Reigen takes him to the amusement park, he’s overly thankful (”Reigen-san, you went to all this trouble”) And Teru literally idolizes Mob for the kindness Mob has given him.
But this is kind of heartbreaking too.
No child should have to subsist on stray inklings of love and support. Love should not be a limited resource. One of the reasons that Teru treasures kindnesses so much is because he knows that gestures of love towards him are few and far between.
It’s no life for a kid. Teru should have a support system that gives him so much love casually that he’s not afraid to let it slip through his fingers. He shouldn’t have to be overly thankful for kind gestures, he doesn’t have to say “you went to all this trouble,” after someone takes him on a fun summer excursion. Teru should be loved so much that he forgets to say thanks. Love should be an expectation, not just a treasure.
Maybe this is why I’m constantly reading fics where Teru is adopted or where he spends a lot of time with the Kageyamas. Because in canon (especially manga canon), Teru’s ending is incredibly tragic. I really love the way ONE wrote him, and I’m not complaining about the ending---I think it’s great. But I want to see this boy happy. There’s something so sad about someone who loves so much but never gets what they deserve.
But fanfiction exists! So write him having happy moments. Write Teru at the water park. Write Teru being hugged by Reigen before his graduation. Write him planting a tree. Write him having his first kiss in the rain. Write him going to cosmetology school and becoming a hairdresser. Write Reigen saving up for Teru’s college fund.
Write Teru experiencing all of the love and joy and beautiful things because he deserves them. I will read all of your fic just put it in my inbox. I will do anything to see this boy be loved.
#mp100#mp100 spoilers#mp100 hanazawa#hanazawa teruki#teruki hanazawa#sorry some of this might be headcanons and not canon but I tried#sorry for the length I wanted to procrastinate at work#really I just want more teru fics#please just give this boy a family#let him be loved
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Pls G and O for *ahem* the man who shall not be named ( yuujirou)🙏
I decided to do all the Yujiro asks in one fell swoop, so we can all suffer together as a family. :)
Warnings: I should only have to mention Yujiro Hanma at this point for you guys to know what you are getting into TBH but-mentions of abuse, noncon, reader being demeaned, beaten, and generally treated like garbage.
Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?
The way Yujiro sees it, everything on this planet is for his amusement, and your existence is not exempt from that. In fact, you are arguably one of his favorite amusements, though he’d never tell you that himself.
That being said, that is all you will ever really amount to with the ogre-an enjoyable distraction to be used for his own pleasure. Everything he does to you, every way he tortures and fucks with you, is very much a fun little game to him. His affection for you only goes as far as you can keep his interest, and once/if you’ve lost all your charm, from that point on you are dead to him.
Yujiro is kind of a special case when it comes to ‘escaping’ him because he lets you roam free, so it’s not like there is any actual physical confinement you would need to break free from. The imprisonment comes from his overwhelming power and the fact that there is no place on earth that is safe from his reach, nowhere where his influence hasn’t extended. He can get through any security measure, travel easily to any country, and gain access to any information through his vast network of contacts. You have no way of competing against that, no way of taking security measures against someone so impossibly strong who has the world at their fingertips. You are a sitting duck, biding your time till he inevitably strikes again.
And yes, Yujiro does enjoy watching all the precautionary measures you take and safeguards you try to set up to protect yourself from him. It’s hilarious seeing the look on your face when he easily plows through each and every one of them to come and claim you.
Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?
Honestly, none of them. One of the absolute worst things about Yujiro is that you have no clue when or how he will strike next. The man comes and goes as he pleases and does whatever tickles his fancy at any given time. It’s one of the perks of being the most powerful being on the planet, no one has the power to stop him from doing anything he sets his mind too.
Those whims translate over to you as well. You could go months or even years with nary a peep from Yujiro Hanma and then the next thing you know you’re being pulled off the street into some back alley to be brutally assaulted by the man himself. It may end there and you won’t see him for another long stretch of time (if ever again), or he may keep you by his side for several days to sate his boredom. You are constantly at his mercy. There is no way to protect yourself, no way of knowing when to even prepare for his arrival. Your entire life revolves around living in a constant state of dread, never truly knowing when, where, or how this man will come for you.
So all that said he doesn’t really take any rights away from you simply because he doesn’t need to. He’ll have you when he wants you, and when you’re with him your only concern and purpose is to please him in whatever way he desires. All the other side shit you have going on is inconsequential to him.
(The only time I think he may impose any kind of iron clad law on you is when you are with him, if you let your mind wander from him he WILL get pissed off and WILL punish you by keeping you quite literally locked by his side. How dare you be in his company and not show him complete reverence and respect? All your freedoms will be taken away the moment you lose focus, you won’t even be able to feed yourself or go to the bathroom without his consent/assistance. It’s horrific and demeaning, humiliating in ways unimaginable. Every moment of your life will be under Yujirou’s scrutiny for however long it takes until he’s satisfied. But even when his tyrannical presence is long gone, the mortification will linger indefinitely).
Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?
Every waking moment of everyday with Yujiro is the worst experience. If he’s not physically hurting you, he’s mentally abusing you. If he’s not touching or handling you inappropriately, he’s full on sexually assaulting you. Even when he is showing moments of ‘kindness’ it’s all just a ruse, another way to mess with you before he inevitably fucks you up in some way. The mental gymnastics this man puts you through on top of the physical duress he keeps your body under is horrendous and unbearable, he is a literal nightmare 24/7.
Never trust any praise, compliments, or benevolence he awards you-he’ll ultimately turn it against you and make you regret ever being so stupid to believe he could and would show you kindness.
Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?
He’s almost always condescending and pompous. Yujiro is superior to you in every way and is not shy about reminding you of that. He expects you to do what he says when he says it, and doesn’t tolerate any lip or complaining about it (though he will sometimes find it humorous if you give a little back talk, depending on his mood). You feel like you are under some sort of regime when you are in his presence, his dominant presence leaving no room for debate. You are on constant alert, riddled with worry that you may say or do something that will set him off and begin the pattern of abuse all over again.
In certain rare instances he may open up to you or have a normal conversation where he isn’t being a smug jerk, but those are few and far between. He holds little to no respect for you and it’s painfully apparent in his mannerisms and way of speaking to you. You are his forced companion, glorified sex toy/punching bag, and your opinions and feelings don’t really matter. Just serve your purpose, know your place, and he will leave a satisfied man and you will (possibly) leave unscathed.
Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?
I honestly don’t think Yujiro has the capacity to truly or selflessly love somebody, and as such he doesn’t experience affection in any normal sense of the word. At best he would have a warped sort of infatuation with you, any ‘affection’ he may direct your way a result of his twisted attraction to you (which is on par with most yanderes, but it’s a whole other level with Yujiro).
How he presents these feelings to you depends entirely on his mood. If he is feeling gracious he may take you out somewhere nice, like a classy restaurant or a high end hotel. He may even take you on a vacation somewhere exotic and exciting. While this may come off as a selfless act of benevolence, don’t get it twisted-Yujiro isn’t doing this as an act of charity. The only reason he’s letting you tag along on these outings is because he either expects something in return from you or he’s just bored and thinks having you around may help alleviate that. Either way, don’t expect smooth sailing when he shows these rare glimpses of goodwill, he will lord them over you and get payback for gifting your something so nice.
Most of the time though he’ll just show up out of the blue to terrorize you, have his way with you, and then leave. In his mind, that is a form of affection. He’s making time for you, isn’t he? He’s going out of his way to see you and give you his undivided attention, if anything you should feel grateful for that. It’s not his problem if you decide to be a little bitch and not appreciate that.
(I will say this though-I feel like if you proved yourself to Yujiro and he did grow to truly respect you, he would treat you much better. He wouldn’t be ‘nice’ by any stretch of the term, but he would take your opinions into account and speak to you on more equal footing. He would still do what he wants with you, but he would be much more willing to work with you and possibly even take into account some of your boundaries (though that is an incredibly large maybe). Your relationship would not get to this point quickly or easily, it would take years of abuse, torture, and anguish to get there. And I think half his new found respect would come from the fact that you survived all of his bs and made it that far. Congrats! You get the tiniest amount of appreciation as a reward for all your suffering. :) )
#i'm honestly a little surprised I didn't get more for Yujiro loool#enjoy and thank you all so much for the asks!!!#I always love writing for this asshole#yandere yujiro hanma#yujiro hanma x reader#yujiro x reader#yandere yujiro#yujiro hanma#yujiro hanma x y/n#yandere yujiro hanma x reader#yandere yujiro hanma x y/n#yandere x reader#yandere fics#yandere baki the grappler#yandere baki x reader#baki reader insert#baki the grappler x reader#baki the grappler#mothwingswritings
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Do you think Belos is not as complex as his fans makes him out to be?
I don’t think it’s a case of more or less complex, it’s that a lot of Belos stans mischaracterize him to the point they make him a different character. The stans ironically completely erase what makes Belos, Belos.
The “Belos” a lot of Belos stans present is the guise he wears to manipulate others and himself, hiding his actual character and nature beneath.
Belos is one of my favorite villains, because he manages to be a truly reprehensible villain with no redemption in sight, while also having a lot of layers to his psychology. He’s a villain whose thought process/general psychology I find fascinating to think about, as I think it’s quite well-written and reflective of people like him in real life.
There’s this perception that in order to be interesting, a villain has to be sympathetic or redeemable in some capacity.
It’s popular to give villains sympathetic motives or backstory, and even redeem them, to avoid the simplistic “I’m doing evil things because I’m evil” type.
And this type of villain can absolutely work, it’s just not necessary for every story, or for a good villain. You can have a complex, layered villain whose psychology is fascinating to think about, without them actually being sympathetic in any way.
Belos doesn’t think “I’m doing evil things because I’m evil.” He justifies himself with a twisted line of thought built around his own selfishness, insecurities, immaturity, and possessiveness, as well as the Puritan ideology he embraced.
A big part of his character is that he warps reality in his own mind to suit his needs. That’s why his mindscape is literally layered, with the beautiful, heroic paintings at the start hiding the true, ugly memories. He isn’t just lying to other people; he’s lying to himself. He’s so caught up in his own delusions and persecution complex, he’s lost sight of reality and starts to be confused by his own lies, built into the very structure of his mind.
The show makes it clear how his view of the world, that he is an oppressed victim, is delusion. It shows Caleb embracing his brother warmly in the Boiling Isles, despite the aggression he displays. It shows people were friendly and trusting during the time period he arrived, and only lashed out at him once he began to kill and oppress, like the demons avenging their brother Blue Fang. His fake child disguise used to manipulate Luz is shed to reveal the true sinister man underneath as his real inner self.
His misery is of his own making. He killed Caleb, he refused to change. Even after four hundred years, he refuses to do anything but whine about what witches and demons took from him, despite the fact he was always the aggressor.
Belos’s story is the story of a man driven by an extreme selfishness, a desire for coddling and protection, to have everything revolve around him and his needs, at the same time as he claims to want to purge the sins of others for being selfish and evil. A man who is so caught up in his layers of lies and manipulation, he himself loses sight of what he believes, and eventually descends into crawling, whining slime. It’s a pathetic end that is his own fault.
But Belos stans want to ignore the story being told in favor of believing the simple narrative he presents at face value - that he was a mistreated kid whose brother abandoned him to cruelty and persecution on the Boiling Isles. They take the story to be a simple “tragic orphan was wronged and now he’s bitter” instead of an exploration of the psychology of this kind of truly reprehensible human being, who absolutely does exist.
The thing they portray is fine for a character story, but it’s not Belos. It’s so blatantly missing the entire point of his character, that they might as well just create an oc.
We have to shed this idea that a complex villain means a sympathetic one. You can have a rich, layered character who has basically always been a piece of shit, and remains so. Sometimes those are the best villains out there, depending on the themes of the story.
So no, Belos isn’t less complex than they make him out to be. He’s just a different character entirely.
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Why do you think Arthur and Molly are so similar ?
I am SO glad you asked!
Molly is basically the human embodiment of foreshadowing in the story. Everything that Dutch ends up doing to the gang, he does to Molly first. Most of all, this treatment ends up landing on Arthur.
Dutch preys on the vulnerable, and this is apparent simply by looking at the members of his gang. Orphans he raised, marginalised people he has taken in, young women struggling to support themselves. Initially selfless acts that grow more sinister when you realise how Dutch has truly indoctrinated most of them, having them do his dirty work for him. Molly too, though her circumstances are much different, is vulnerable. She is unable to defend herself or leave camp, since she can’t use a gun and presumably, since when she runs away she does so on foot, can’t ride a horse. She is a physically weak young woman and an Irish immigrant in a country that is outwardly unkind to both facets of her identify and one that she is unfamiliar with.
Molly is incredibly devoted to Dutch, to the point where she has nothing in her life without him. Her entire existence now revolves around him, and she cannot safely leave even if she wants to. Though Dutch starts the game returning Molly’s affection, the second she starts to become unappealing to him - voicing her own opinions, speaking out against his treatment of her, doubting anything he does - he discards her like she is nothing. He is incredibly manipulative to her, with his literal gaslighting, constant berating of her emotions which he scolds her for in an uncomfortably parental way, refusing to speak to her even when she is trying to help him and, eventually, even revoking her right to be called by her first name. She hates being called by her surname, and she tells him this. It changes nothing. Now that Molly has lost her appeal in Dutch’s eyes, he hunts for a replacement. He begins to find this in Mary-Beth, a woman even younger than Molly and much more timid towards him, who doesn’t speak out against him or complain about his behaviour.
Arthur has quite literally dedicated his entire life to Dutch. Arthur was raised by him and as he says in chapter 2, nothing means more to him than the gang. Though certainly not vulnerable how you would expect, Dutch found him when he was. His existence revolves around Dutch, and now with the high bounty on his head and the people he must protect, he cannot safely leave even if he wants to. Much like we saw with Molly, Dutch starts to disregard Arthur when he begins to show doubts in his plans and his motivations. Throughout chapter 6, we watch their bond deteriorate, with Dutch even eventually abandoning the title of son for Arthur similarly to how he refuses to call Molly by her first name. Just as he did with Mary-Beth, he finds a younger, more vulnerable option to replace Arthur in Eagle Flies. In front of Arthur, he tells Eagle Flies that he never had a son, and shortly afterwards mocks Arthur’s weakness brought on by, might I remind you, his fatal illness.
For each of them, protecting the gang are hugely important acts taken by Molly and Arthur near the end of their stories. For Molly, it takes the form of her refusal to tell the law about them. We know that she was sweated multiple times, implying at the very least intense interrogation and at most outright torture. Molly had every reason to want Dutch dead, but for reasons we never get to hear from her she decides to keep the gang safe. For Arthur, we see him do his best to save everybody in the gang he possibly can. Primarily the Marstons, dying so that they can be safe.
These connections never go directly acknowledged by Molly and Arthur, but there are two very notable moments between them. First, there is Molly’s only “mission”, though it really isn’t about her. She tries to open up to Arthur before she is interrupted, telling him her worries about Dutch and asking how he seems to Arthur, if he thinks he has changed the way Molly knows he has. Changes that Arthur has not noticed, that he will not notice until it is much too late, that the gang ignored but Molly saw. Secondly, it is Arthur who prevents Dutch from shooting Molly as she confesses. She is encouraging him, asking him to shoot her, but Arthur holds him back and talks him down. He never fully believes her, voicing subtly that he doubts Molly’s lie. It was the very most he could have done for her in that minute, and with that scene marking the start of chapter 6, the very act of protecting the supposed traitor that Dutch is ready to kill is the first of many acts of defiance Arthur will make.
Lastly, there is the similarities between two of their most tragic lines. Molly’s poem repeats the phrase “I’ve nothing left, I gave you all”, being the closing line of the final stanza of her poem, one that is undoubtedly about her relationship with Dutch. Some of Arthur’s final dialogue, spoken to Dutch, is “I gave you all I had”. Though coming from much different circumstances and backgrounds, Molly and Arthur ended very much the same. Giving everything to Dutch, and being cast aside by him.
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Jonelias thought of the day is that Elias must come across as so stuffy and boring to those at the Institute - which, you know, very much helps hide his true nature - but as an avatar of the Eye and a man determined to avoid the End, Elias is someone whose entire being revolves around the interplay of knowledge and experiences. He's compelled to Know it all and his efforts to avoid death invite him to Experience it all too, a fascinating combination of passive observer and, by virtue of being a 200+ year-old in search of true immortality, an active participant too. This is a man whose longevity and thirst for knowledge invites an obsession with life that contradicts the 'Sits in his office doing nothing but spreadsheets all day' image he's learned to cultivate. (Though, to be clear, he does love the spreadsheets.) And I don't just mean "obsession with life" in the sense of him avoiding the finality of death, but actually loving the act of being alive.
I think a lot of what the fandom (rightly) jokes about in regards to his characterization is a reflection of that obsession. Elias has a relationship with Peter Lukas that goes far beyond the cold practicality of an alliance, hinting at a romance (if you steer towards a LonelyEyes reading), or just Elias' desire to still be able to place bets with someone while he's trying to end the world. Similarly, his powers ensure that he's never truly alone - if he dies, he takes the rest of the Archive with him - forever supplying him with a warped companionship that doesn't threaten him like he perceives he was threatened as Jonah Magnus, with his acquaintances working to complete their own rituals. In true Beholding style, he's got the heart of a fucked-up scientist who's endlessly curious about the world around him: 'Oooh what happens if I let my friend waste away in the Lonely?' He shows up at Jon's birthday party not just to secretly gloat and keep an eye on things (ha), but because he legitimately wants cake. Who wouldn't want cake? What's the point of living forever if you can't have cake?? Well, for an avatar the exquisite sweetness of fear is just as good, but my point stands. Beyond his fear of death, that enjoyment is at the heart of Elias' goal, with Jon describing his experience as the Pupil as a kind of agonized bliss and Elias confirming this by saying he was having the most wonderful dream. Morality aside, he likes interacting with the horror of the Entities, something we saw all the way back during the "[PLEASURED EXHALATION]" scene. Learning new things feels good. Experiencing news things is enjoyable. Learning and experiencing Bad Things is especially nice given his patron. Consistently, Elias' setbacks are met with interest, or a mild annoyance that then eventually settles into satisfaction because they are also new experiences for him and the Eye: going to jail, getting to psychologically torture Martin, having his own secrets exposed. There's a lot throughout the series to imply that Elias enjoys watching Jon become the Key, not just because it means he's succeeding in his goals, but because there's genuine interest and pride in seeing him "grow" by Elias' standards. The repetition of "our world," "our patron," etc. implies a connection; the intention to experience this new world with another, to enjoy it rather than simply exist in it for the mere sake of existence. Elias is a man whose entire essence boils down to, "I NEED TO KNOW ALL THE THINGS, EXPERIENCE EVERYTHING, AND LIVE FOREVER WHILE ACHIEVING THAT, TO UNDERSTAND IT ALL SO I CAN CONTROL IT ALL AND HAVE A DAMN GOOD TIME IN THE PROCESS, EVEN WHILE I SUCCUMB TO THE PRIMAL FEAR THAT DRIVES ME I WILL PARADOXICALLY EMBRACE IT, AND YEAH THAT'S LARGELY BECAUSE I SERVE THE LITERAL GOD OF JUDGY SURVEILLANCE BUT ALSO THAT'S JUST ME."
So anyway, I keep thinking about how this characterization could intersect with S1-2 Jon: prickly, awkward, semi-isolated, desperate to be recognized by someone whose authority he believes in. AKA the boss who, at an unprecedented young age, rose to the top of the Institute they both work at, perceived by those around him as far less interesting than he actually is. Parallels, anyone? Imagine Jon getting to really talk to Elias, realizing how much he has to offer after 200 years of life (though of course he doesn't know that), and just constantly being blindsided by not just the knowledge, but the enthusiasm for everything he's learned and been through - the good and the horrifyingly awful that, despite himself, Jon is equally drawn to. Elias recognizes every quote Jon drops into a conversation and has another witty line to pair it with. He doesn't just indulge his nerdy rambles, but participates in them. He's refined in all the ways that Jon expects - books, opera, music, etc. - and also casually drops in references to acid trips and fucking orgies. Imagine an early series Jon who forms a strong bond with Elias outside of the web (ha x2) he's been weaving, becoming dependent on his friendship and just a little bit completely in love. Elias is inherently fascinating, but he's also just Some Guy, and the combination of that is just perfect for a necrotic Archivist who simultaneously wants to be guided by his 'betters' and prove that he's an equal. Why Elias would be interested in turn barely needs stating: Jon is literally Elias' everything, in a horrifyingly tragic and like, Gothic Romance sense? What would that kind of relationship have changed? It would have likely made Elias' job even easier, but what about Jon?
...I'm not saying that Jon's drive to protect humanity would have been warped into something tragically dangerous if he'd first come to see his intelligent, complex, shockingly kind (from his nonexistent self-esteem POV), secretly-an-eldritch-monster boss as the epitome of humanity... but I'm also not saying it couldn't have!
#TMA#The Magnus Archives#Jonelias#this is so rambly I'm sorry#I'm just having a lot of feelings about these two#Jon deserves a corruption arc that he's convinced himself is a hero's journey#as a treat#also I keep thinking about Elias' refusal to define a human#and the Witcher line about Regis - a vampire - being the best of humanity#can a monster be human?#sure why not#especially when so many humans are already monstrous#I just want Jon to rule under a horrifically misguided idea of which humans are worth protecting#his wonderful desire to protect molded into not just the key that will end the world#but the thing that perpetuates its torment#as! a! treat!
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(Idk if I send a lot of asks but)
💚: What does everyone else get wrong about your favorite character?
💛: What is a popular ship you just can't get behind, and why?
💛: What is a popular ship you just can't get behind, and why?
Fucking
Leoruggie and jamikali. It's a tie.
Leona is 20+. Ruggie is 17. Ruggie is in a servant role and far less privileged than Leona, who is a prince. This ship just frustrates me so much, and so many fics involve Leona treating Ruggie even worse than he does in game so it's just... bleh.
Jamil is the Asim family's slave. He is a slave. "Servant", "caretaker", "bodyguard", etc are are all nice ways of putting it. Jamil's entire being revolves around Kalim. He cannot exist outside of Kalim. He takes the subjects Kalim takes, thinks of Kalik at all times, and can never truly enjoy himself. His life from the start is deemed as lesser than Kalim's, as he's his poison tester as well. He resents Kalim for this.
Kalim essentially owns Jamil. He is a kind boy but so awfully unaware of the harm he himself is causing Jamil. In his vignettes, in the events, etc, whenever he's faced with a problem or wants something done, he tells people, "Jamil will handle it!" And carries on with no regard to Jamil's feelings or if it's even possible to do such things.
When Jamil tells him to stop doing something, or that he can't get this thing done in time, Kalim ignores him and says "I can count on you Jamil!" Why? Because Kalim is spoiled and even he is sweet, doesn't really understand the word no. Obviously, he's not doing this maliciously, but it's still very harmful and does nothing but contribute to Jamil's stress and suffering.
Idk, this whole ship doesn't sit right with me because it just feels like romance is a bandaid slapped onto a gaping chasm of a problem. Not to mention, no matter how kind Kalim is, it's very toxic and dangerous for Jamil to be dating someone with complete and unquestionable control over his autonomy like Kalim.
💚: What does everyone else get wrong about your favorite character?
Azul beats out the tweels by 0.0000000001% so...
People either make him too much of a soft hearted crybaby, or too much of an evil capitalist.
Azul was hurt deeply as a child. The emotional scars left will take a very long time to fade. To cope he strived to make himself better, stronger, more desirable, and so on. In doing so, he's hardened his heart and it's a lot more difficult to get him now. It's literally stated in game that he hasn't cried in years. So no, reader giving him some affection won't make him burst into tears. He's not emotionless, but he's not going to turn into Season 1 Deku 2.0.
Then there's the other end of the scale. Some of ya'll make Azul way worse than he actually is. No, he's not going to force someone to date him. No, he's not going to make a potion to fucking... drug the reader??? Idk so many fics make him so overbearing and aggressive it's just... not like him.
And, let's not forget, he's a restaurateur's son and is literally just... a guy who owns a restaurant and wants to expand it. Sometimes people treat him like he's going to be the next CEO of Amazon or something. Azul is not ever going to be as viciously awful as most if not all CEOs are. Remember those guys are also sexist, homophobic, and racist and often fund bigoted organisations. Which... Azul would not do?
I know Azul can be a difficult character to write. It's hard to get a good balance when he's so morally grey. He's not an angel, but he's definitely not a complete monster either.
Sorry this is so long Elena, I got excited 😭
#quinn quips#quinn answers#quinn's friends#elen#leona kingscholar#ruggie bucchi#savanaclaw#azul ashengrotto#octavinelle#kalim al asim#jamil viper#twisted wonderland
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no bc you’re absolutely right about the wrongful foiling of Regulus! Book wise? Sirius to made himself larger than life. He was outwardly charming, bold, basically ‘affable’ in comparison to others in his family because he wasn’t well liked at home for his different ideas on pure blood status. Not only that he was socialized by other Gryffindors to BE proud of his different ideas, leaning into the informal self image rather than what House Black members (book wise) usually present themselves as. Sirius is the anomalous odd one like his Uncle Alphard. Regulus was perfectly in line and proper by his own family’s brief accounts until the Kreacher incident and that is all we’re afforded to truly confirm. Sorry about the rant but this plagues me too often sorry 😭
AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. okay. okay. first of all, thank you for talking to me about this, because i'm so glad i'm not the only one ://
now, on to real business :) this is going to a ridiculously long because i have feelings!!!! and it's 1) frustration 2) frustration and 3) frustration!
See, I think this mainly comes from three reasons: the need to spark contrast between the two, the general lack of canon knowledge in the fandom, and the sad attempt to squeeze regulus in what little space is left in the fandom as much of what is fanon, revolves around established headcanons for sirius (regulus' rise to popularity is very much a new thing. he had fans before but trust that it was nowhere near how it is today.)
the fourth secret thing, is the fandom's general tendency to cling to established fanon dynamics like a chastity cage on a particularly swollen dick. and this time, it's regulus being the runt of the black family.
on the matter of contrast
this is so silly to me, because isn't there already contrast between the two? Regulus being the favored child takes absolutely nothing from Sirius' canon charisma, intelligence, and popularity in school. and anon, YOU'RE SO RIGHT about Sirius trying extra hard to fit in at school out of a need to seek attention, approval, and praise because of how it's like at home. Plus the fact that this is done through loudly putting himself against his family. Sirius being the black sheep is such an integral part of what fuels his decisions, explaining the somewhat feral manner in which it manifests. almost crazed. why? because sirius is a hurt and traumatized teenager!!!!!! he has a developmental deficit (emotional and social) that he's still trying to fill, because their home was shit.
nowhere was it ever mentioned that regulus was so unliked by his family nor his slytherin peers because they saw him as lesser than. especially "lesser than sirius." in fact, the opposite was said.
a more accurate contrast between the two would've been about how regulus was a perfect student and how sirius was known for being a marauder. Regulus pulled people in the same way all Blacks do (coolly and with an existence that screams of an implied threat) alongside being the proud heir of an ancient house, while Sirius was making people pay attention to him through sheer spite and will to be heard after being ignored for so long. People would've been getting whiplash from the two, night and day. That regulus made following rules look like a calling, like being a lord to a house was something people were supposed to watch him do, and they fucking watched because they couldn't look away. While sirius could walk in a room full of people and you'd never know what he'd do, but you stay in your fucking seat because whatever it is, it's something you have to see -- you look around and everyone is doing the same thing. People would be holding their breaths for the black brothers but for entirely different reasons.
Regulus never would've made a point to be popular nor aim for the same kind of popularity. He was more probably a social icon for Slytherin, especially, since people were paying attention to the choices old, pureblooded families were making. Slytherin most, especially.
on the general lack of canon knowledge
yeah, at this point, no one wants to read the books anymore (that's genuinely the author's fault) and the movies are what most people know and can be bothered to know. not to mention the disdain for "canon".
there's also this stupid fucking take within the marauders fandom, that apparently everything is pure headcanon. but there's a difference between filling in a lot of the blanks that canon leaves and straight up denying anything ever existed for anyone to look up or research.
fact: there's appallingly little of what's written in the books regarding the marauders era characters. there are some, who were merely mentioned by name or seen in photographs.
bullshit: everything is headcanon. we know nothing about them and there's nothing to know about them.
fact: sirius was a popular student, while regulus was the favorite child of the family.
bullshit: sirius is all the good in their family, while regulus was born a loser and was from the start unwanted and unloved.
and it's funny how i've seen multiple blogs write about people trying to make regulus look cool, and it being an attempt to make, a "discount sirius". and this, apparently, is canon (kiss my dick the lot of you, kiss my phat phucking dick).
on established headcanons about sirius
yeah, i don't think people have been wanting to write about how sirius is in anyway inferior to regulus for much of this fandom's existence. he's a core four member. I mean -- M . W. P. P.
he's arguably the most popular character in the fandom, with his most well-known traits being beautiful, charismatic, and widely popular.
so how do you make sense of his home life? how could he NOT be wanted? how does one make this case, sirius friendly? well, you make him the TRUE favorite. make it so that his little brother? yeah, the nobody? was born as a spare.
sirius was the true favorite until he wasn't, and when he left, their parents were the most miserable human beings on earth for having lost the perfect heir, leaving them with a defunct child without a spine. Make it so that sirius was the ~son who got away~
sirius becomes the cool brother and regulus, the loser.
you have a fandom established dynamic between the two, where this just recently popular brother has to fit around the larger fandom headcanons surrounding sirius, where most are an attempt to smooth over the reality of his childhood. in the end, i think it became more important to make sirius as this better brother in all aspects compared to 'poor regulus' who never got an ounce of attention in his life.
i'm not saying that most people are doing this actively BUT, the headcanons that have stuck are largely due to the fact that the marauders fandom, in general, has had years to establish headcanons that work in sirius' favor (because regulus hasn't been as popular as he is now), and the general want of an overwhelming majority to have sirius simply be more than, compared to his brother.
this mixes so very well with a good number of people rioting about every single trait they think belongs solely to sirius, that must never be associated with regulus.
faced with a fandom that would rather off themselves than read the books... well, we're stuck with fanon tropes.
---------------------------------------------------------------
NOW, this isn't some tall order to make people stop writing what they want to write nor is it meant to be condescending for people who like this fanon dynamic.
this is just me saying that i abhor said dynamic. DYNAMIC, not sirius. (read it again, if you're feeling like a keyboard warrior). for people who actually like regulus, it's perfectly understandable and VALID to feel pissed when he's been delegated to this weak, wet tissue character in favor of sirius. like, it's okay to feel pissed when you see your fave's canon story be torn apart and pieced back together as a skewed embellishment for another character's sake, AND to have this be the general fandom attitude to a canon-averse community that will never really know what's fanon or not.
lastly, what this post is not: an attempt to put regulus over sirius, or say how he's the better character. i'm merely pointing out character inconsistencies. at no point did i say regulus good; sirius bad.
TLDR: i hate how regulus has been made out to be this loser brother, because it's not even true especially when there's so many ways to strike up a contrast between them, that doesn't result in completely ruining him for sirius' sake. (The only time i soldier on when this is the dynamic, is when the story is morgan's. That's it.)
#regulus black#sirius black#the black brothers#marauders era#sirius and regulus#regulus headcanon#black brothers#hp marauders#marauders fic#my writing
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Mikoto Kayano from MILGRAM-DID (canon)
"UAGHHJH…. mikoto is canonically a DID system!!!! he has an alter named John who killed somebody once BUT LIKE THAT ASIDE he’s so cool guys. they are the system ever. he also has an alter named midokoto and guys you Need to understand. they’re SO good. they’re so toxic but they’re learning and they have so much potential. Mikoto refused to accept that he was a system for the first season/trial of MILGRAM and tbh dont we all! and in the second season he realized and guys… .,..,…. in the second MV John sings 'I’ve got you, leave it to me!' and it’s SO protector-coded….. PLEAASSEEEEE MIKOTO HES SO GOOD"
Additional
"Just wanna add some more stuff to Mikoto Kayano’s description. And apologies in advance for this being a bit too long
To be clear, Mido doesn’t actually exist and is a fanon character originating from an older theory. Currently we only know of Mikoto and John in the system. It’s also very unclear who is the actual killer but I’ll elaborate on that more. And in Milgram everyone’s a killer so he’s not the only case here.
I really love Mikoto and John and their story so much.
Mikoto is the host alter and the one considered as the prisoner 009. He’s a people pleaser who obsessed with being normal and acceptable to people. He doesn’t inherently understand social concepts and relationships and tries to force himself into such. His whole social attitude is him deliberately acting that way so people can accept him. He’d do anything to please other people even if it makes him uncomfortable. And this habit is breaking him down on the inside along with being stuck in an abusive job.
His obsession with being normal makes him hate John which is really sad. He feels that having DID would make him weird and crazy and completely erase any sort of efforts he made to be normal and socially acceptable and have him be ostracised by everyone, which is sadly the truth in this current world. Because of this he’s scared of John and projects all his sufferings onto him, that he’s deliberately trying to ruin his life and do all these horrible things just for the sake of it. He even blamed John for attacking Mahiru even though it’s extremely obvious that it was Kotoko who did it. Mikoto saw her as a friend even though she really wasn’t and doesn’t want to believe that she did it so he blamed it on John.
I think Mikoto might’ve actually known he was a system for a while as lots of the lyrics in his first trial song, MeMe, seem to imply this. He wants to know why John is like this and is scared of him. And he’s lying to himself and desperately trying to convince himself that it’s not true. Even acting clueless when Es bought it up despite having attempted to talk to John beforehand.
Now for John, he is the protector alter and isn’t considered to be the prisoner. I absolutely love John so much. He’s obsessed with protecting Mikoto to the point he’s ruining his life, just like Mikoto’s obsession with being normal. He’s extremely paranoid of other people, and believes them all to be out to hurt Mikoto. Because of this, he lashed out and acts violently around them to make himself seem more threatening as for them to not go near Mikoto. This is in direct contrast with Mikoto’s behaviour of wanting to be friends with everyone which John is trying to stop as he’s scared for his safety under the belief that other people are dangerous. Even though he’s trying to protect Mikoto from this he’s actually making things worse for him as this is heavily stressing out Mikoto who’s biggest fear is social rejection and could stop someone reaching out to help him. And John knows this. He’s questioning if he’s truly Mikoto’s saviour and has started to believe that he’s ruined his life, for if only he was never born. But his paranoid mindset is inherently rooted into him so he can’t stop behaving this way.
John’s entire identity revolves around him being Mikoto’s protector, so for this it feels to him as his entire duty in life he had failed. His entire life is focused on Mikoto and he believes he can’t be his own person with hopes and dreams because that’d be getting in the way. He also demonised his DID and believes he can’t be a proper person because of that, and believes his condition is what’s making him violent even though it’s truly not, and just has a strong sense of fight or flight.
For his whole life John has never been treated as a person and never treated himself as such, so when in his second trial voice drama, Neoplasm, when Es wasn’t immediately scared of him when John fronted and started threatening Es, he backed down. This was the first time he wasn’t treated as a monster and because of that he dropped his persona and started to reveal his true self. John is a more stoic and rational person and was confused when Es actually accepted him instead of fearing him. It definitely seems he’s been trying to make an effort not to get angry and violent on an impulse as when he got upset and started yelling at Es, he calmed down and started breathing, and tried to talk in a more calm matter. But because of this he said how he wished he had stayed a monster.
And about the whole murder situation. John desperately tries to convince Es that he’s the killer, claiming he just killed a bunch of random people who annoyed him although this statement is very contradictory. When Es started to get suspicious of his statement John immediately doubled down and tried to convince them that Mikoto is weak and innocent and could never hurt anyone and was basically yelling at Es that Mikoto is completely innocent and that he is the murderer.
Even though the story deliberately makes it unclear who did it this behaviour seems to me as John trying to take the blame for Mikoto, as he wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to him because of that. It’s just a theory and it’s a long one but I believe that Mikoto is the killer, and the trauma from the incident along with his denial coping mechanisms lead him to repress the memory. And in the first trial when Es bought up the idea that he may have repressed the memory he started having a panic attack which caused John to switch in.
I really love how Milgram is treating DID with respect in Mikoto’s story and how the murder wasn’t because of his condition, but the result of the situation he was in and all the trauma he was going through, a murder which anyone could commit. There’s also a time where it was implied that they were co conscious in the second trial interrogation questions where at one time the handwriting started changing a lot and becoming more shaky in a style that didn’t fit either Mikoto or John’s regular handwriting. And there was one answer which heavily implied he was disassociating while writing. Mikoto’s story is one that’s easily misunderstood and may initially lead people to believe that Mikoto is the poor victim and John the evil perpetrator. But it makes a lot more sense when you realise that that’s their perspectives and is influencing the narrative. Ah- I might’ve gone on for too long about this I’m just really normal about them ok."
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Xivu Arath and Savathun really do just destroy me. The dynamic they have..
What truly kills me about them, and with oryx as well, is that despite what they’ve become, the sheer mass of years and experiences they’ve accumulated, smiles and wounds all around, they never feel like they’ve lost the core of their sibling-hood. I believe Oryx said it best when he reflected upon it:
“Oryx looks at her and for a moment, just a moment, he is nostalgic, he is sentimental. He thinks, imagine the years behind us, the things we’ve done. And yet being old doesn’t feel like a scar, does it? It hasn’t left me dull. I feel alive, alive with you, and every time I step back into this world from my throne I feel like I’m two years old again, at the bottom of the universe, looking up.”
Their character arcs revolving almost entirely around their siblinghood crushes me. They are written in such a way that like, yeah they’re huge incomprehensibly old and powerful “we clap and a star dies” figures, but they’re also still two years old, running off on adventures and smiling and laughing and rough-housing and pondering together. I think it’s beautiful that this dynamic never really goes away. Very little about how they regarded each other changed, godlike powers or no.
Until Oryx died. (Perhaps even earlier, when they all parted ways for a bit. I like to think they still visited one another with echoes every now and then). I also am not sure how much was actually covered in game about specifically Sav and Xivu’s reactions to his death. If there was I’d love to go read up on it if anyone knows where to find it!
That being said, I just. The death of a sibling, an older sibling, someone who you have galavanted across the universe with for longer than some galaxies and star systems have existed, what a shattering thing that would be. I’m a middle sibling myself, and Savathun’s perspective on that matter does intrigue me, but it’s Xivu Arath who I am most drawn to in this matter.
The death of her eldest sibling, her brother Oryx. We have an entire journal entry from her perspective in the books of sorrow that details the level of love and respect she had for him. I can imagine what kind of grief his loss would entail. Wavering, even if just for a moment, beneath the weight of this new truth to the universe, that oryx would not be present for the end of this great journey they started together. To see just how far the rolling strength of the hive, his family, could reach.
And then a further shattering, with Savathun’s betrayal, Xivu Arath is left alone. Completely, totally, alone. The youngest of the oldest gods, the youngest of the most fearsome gods. The most fearsome of the gods, because she is the last of them? Angry angry youngest child outlook on life, it must come through when Xivu comes to properly take the stage in the coming narrative. I want to see so, so much from her gosh.
Need that Xivu and Sav conversation on the current state of affairs, on the loss of a brother and a loss of a sister (for both, respectively) immediately. Angry and seething and oh, so sibling like of them.
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I keep dwelling on our poor Amane...
I still am in shock... somehow, this whole time... it's just so impossibly miserable, Tsukasa's reality of simply never understanding the message or point of the shinjuu. This relieved smile, the end finally in reach....
Tsukasa, who can only ever think of 'disappearing' again and again...
the moments before Amane has a complete melt down, listening to this, and then seeing Tsukasa command Nene-chan to take responsibility in destroying every Yorishiro....
the culmination of this entire timeline, the FINAL BEATS of THIS UNIVERSE we've lived in for all of this time, were....
Amane's own MOUTH finally plainly, patiently trying to spell out Tsukasa's actions consequences to him....
those consequences are not, 'the fate of the boundaries' 'the fate of the world' 'the fate of existence'.
It's the threat of never seeing each other ever, ever again! All Amane dictates, if the Yorishiro are destroyed, is Tsukasa disappearing. Interestingly, in this moment, he's not even focused on Nene-chan's fate-- not that it's not deeply important to him, too, but-- Nene-chan already knows her life is precious to him, and that he's fighting to save it. The point he has to make to Tsukasa, is the consequence that occurs between them.
But does Tsukasa understand Amane's many years of fighting to keep them bound...?
I really, really thought that at least on some level, Tsukasa understood what it meant to be Amane's Yorishiro... the treasure at the center of his boundary, his protected & sacred object. He had to understand the shinjuu, the purpose of the act of killing Tsukasa and then himself, was in a desperate bid to keep them together, even in death.
I guess Amane thought that, too! We're right here with him!!
He's done so much, for so many years--! After all this time... it's an incredibly vulnerable moment for Amane to finally acknowledge his own efforts to Tsukasa, directly, to try to ask Tsukasa if he even understands the consequences of his actions.... it truly is the climax of this entire manga, to Hanako's entire existence as a mystery. The previous arc confirmed what a Yorishiro even is, and Tsukasa being Amane's, to prepare us for this devastating blow. The Seventh mystery's existence revolves around protecting his Yorishiro!
in one single expression, a casual word, every single hope in Amane is destroyed.....
it couldn't be a more simple & effortless rejection of everything! Tsukasa's suicidal tendencies are curiously ignorant & naive. Why does it matter if he disappears? He doesn't know why it would matter! IT'S AN INDOMINABLE BELIEF IN HIS UNIMPORTANCE!
Amane, why would it matter?
Tsukasa doesn't see himself disappearing as a consequence. It's a trivial aspect of granting your wish.
Why would you care if he disappeared?
all of this time, he never told Tsukasa anything! It's over 50 years of complete waste! Amane died for nothing! He didn't even die proving he loved Tsukasa more than anything, more than his own future. He didn't convey a single message! The 7th mystery's existence is a joke. Meaningless! You do all of that, and Tsukasa wants to jump into a hole again, just like he did at age 4. NOTHING HAS CHANGED.
what happens next... is so awful, but I do understand Amane's poor broken heart thrashing. Amane is an interesting person... I enjoy his pure black & white thinking. It's kind of moe of him... kind of cutely dramatic and extreme haha. And above all, it kind of preserves this... beautiful idea of Tsukasa, as someone who couldn't disappoint him....?
In a big way, I think Tsukasa is idealized by Amane..... I don't think he's rational about his little brother at all.
To step back for a second... I like that, at one point in time, it appears as if Amane utterly doubled down on 'Tsukasa is real, no matter what.'
Maybe to go on in life, Amane had to believe in that with his whole heart.
The gestures he made in the shinjuu, were in devotion to that belief. Tsukasa's purity of being. 'You ARE my little brother-- no matter what anyone says-- and I'll die to be with you forever.'
Now, Tsukasa is apparently utterly ignorant to his efforts, blind to Amane's aching love for him... Amane's response is essentially, "Tsukasa would never do that to me, Tsukasa WOULD understand"
"for you to hurt me this badly, you CAN'T be my Tsukasa"... that's the mindset Amane suddenly has. He can't handle anything else!!!
Somehow... it's better if some unknown monster tricked him, lied to him, if this person beneath him isn't Tsukasa at all. Never was. If it's a waste, better for it to be a complete and UTTER waste!!!!!!!
it's so terrible of him, but it's merely a childish tantrum. He's only hurt.
It's interesting that it doesn't hurt Tsukasa, at all, but Amane-- he obviously wants to hurt this Tsukasa....? He defensively wishes to say the most awful thing he can think of to... this monster. But if it's a monster, what would it care, Amane? If this isn't your little brother, why would it care about you stating the truth? Do you want to see it cry?
Tsukasa, for his mileage, I just don't think harsh or cruel words can ever hurt him. After all, he doesn't see himself as important, or imagine he has any value, at all. If Amane says 'I hate you', or insults him, or acts annoyed, it makes no difference to his fate. He already exists in a perpetual reality of trying to make himself disappear. It's not as if Amane can rob him of his will to live, or make him feel his existence is pointless. He has no will to live. He's always acting on that assumption. Amane cannot erode his belief in his value or make him cry about how much Amane hates him, because that's the only thing Tsukasa has ever believed was true.
There's a sort of excruciating discrepancy between the Yugi twins...
If Amane could hurt Tsukasa, he would probably be soothed, somehow, that his feelings matter to Tsukasa. But Tsukasa has always easily said, "or would you prefer if I disappear?" with a smile on his face, as if it's inconsequential. I'm entirely sure Amane's ideal world would be one where his frustration makes Tsukasa sob and beg for his love, acceptance, or forgiveness. Tsukasa, however, doesn't do that, because he doesn't feel he deserves Amane's love, apparently! He already accepts a world in which Amane doesn't love him, so Amane saying 'I hate you' won't make him cry, not ever. But to Amane, that makes it look like it doesn't matter if he hates Tsukasa! Which makes it seem like Tsukasa doesn't need his love, or need him...
I think in Amane's mind, Tsukasa is his pristine little brother... he won't accept a reality in which Tsukasa would reject his heart, in which Tsukasa didn't perceive his love.
....despite the words themselves, I think they come from a place of deep love. If Amane didn't love Tsukasa so much, he wouldn't care about his 'message' to him, and he wouldn't care about a 'fake'.
now whimsically I want to say... Amane is such a pained and agonized romantic with such immense issues with jealousy & possessiveness, I wonder how he dealt with the idea of some strange thing being housed in Tsukasa's heart?
I can understand 'complete and utter denial' as a means of coping with something too painful to accept. If Tsukasa is replaced, there's nothing left for you to love. And if something else has taken his heart, you can never have it.
If Amane ultimately stabbed Tsukasa in the heart, maybe he was trying to take something back, or claim his dominance over that territory.
Tsukasa, he's unfortunately quite reckless with that thing....
It's interesting, because Amane these days is such a doomer, you could almost think "ah, I see, he'll believe in the 'worst possible thing' now, and give up on Tsukasa's realness entirely."
But "this Tsukasa is and has always been a fake" is not actually the 'worst possible thing'!
The worst possible thing would be "This Tsukasa is real, and he never understood I love him, and he doesn't want to be with me" !! "Tsukasa never knew I loved him, he died believing I hated him" !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Amane is in fact still coping.....................................................
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We Go Down Together (Part 1)
Paring: Rhysand x Reader
Word count: 2.1k
Summary: Many believe that everyone is destined for love, but what if that assumption wasn't always accurate? Love should be perceived more as a weapon than a certainty. We're often fed tales of knights saving princesses and their ensuing romance. But what if this narrative were misguided? What if the story revolved around a villain who fought desperately against falling in love with the king, knowing that their love would unleash catastrophic consequences upon the world?
Warnings: Mentions of violence and death
Many believe that everyone is destined for love, but what if that assumption wasn't always accurate? Love should be perceived more as a weapon than a certainty. We're often fed tales of knights saving princesses and their ensuing romance. But what if this narrative were misguided? What if the story revolved around a villain who fought desperately against falling in love with the king, knowing that their love would unleash catastrophic consequences upon the world?
This notion might elicit laughter. Parents would likely alter the story, introducing a new character to better conform to the traditional roles. Villains, conventionally, aren't permitted to experience love; they're destined to endure perpetual solitude and suffering. After all, their purpose seems to be inflicting pain and leaving others to suffer, isn't it? Perhaps it's time to reconsider this way of thinking.
You weren’t entirely sure where things went wrong in your life. It could have been when your father initiated an all-out war with the rest of Prythian, or when you were born as the daughter of Hybern. Your childhood was no easy task, as your father insisted that you follow in his footsteps—a path you neither liked nor agreed with. He was many things, but a truly heartless man was one of them. Concern for your well-being never seemed to exist; his sole preoccupation lay in ensuring that you, his only heir, carried on his legacy. Your mother had fled from your father when you were young, but you suspected she might have met an untimely end.
Standing in front of the mirror, you smoothed your hands over your dress, releasing a shaky sigh. While working alongside Tamlin’s father, he had arranged a marriage between the two of you for political reasons. To him, you were merely a pawn in his political machinations. The dress, by your standards, was hideous. The gold accents clashed against the white fabric, and the shoulder piece made you cringe. Your hair was twisted into a low bun, saved only by a flower hairpin securing it in place. A soft knock interrupted your thoughts, and the door creaked open, revealing Tamlin dressed in a suit echoing the theme of your attire.
“You look beautiful,” he uttered softly, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror. Tamlin appeared worn out and as weary as you felt. He had pleaded with your father to reconsider the wedding, his heart belonging to another. And you? You had surrendered to your father's will the moment he threatened to strip away any remaining shreds of your freedom.
“Don’t lie. We both know these outfits are a fashion disaster,” you remarked, forcing a smile that failed to reach your eyes. Tamlin, like you, was trapped in the political game, suffering just as you were. He had endured much, compelled to abide by his father’s decisions, much like you.
Chuckling, he stepped closer, adjusting his clothing. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I can still find a way to get you out,” he proposed. The idea had been suggested multiple times, but you knew that if you attempted to escape, your father would unleash Amerantha to hunt you down like a dog. Tamlin was aware of the risks in aiding your escape, yet he consistently offered you the option, for which you were immensely grateful.
Glancing out the window, you observed the gathering crowd preparing for the event, but something felt profoundly amiss. Perhaps it was the stark reality of the forced marriage now unfolding, or the piercing sensation of Amerantha's gaze fixed upon you from a distance. Turning to Tamlin, you nervously bit your lip, allowing your thoughts to wander. “What if I agree this time? Do you truly believe you could get me out without my father’s lap dog noticing?”
Tamlin froze, his eyes widening before swiftly checking the door, ensuring no one would intrude. “I could, but we need to act now. If we delay, the opportunity for your successful escape will close, and we’ll both be ensnared in this game,” he declared, crossing the room to a concealed passageway. He pressed against the wall, revealing a hidden door. “There's a passage beneath the castle that will lead you just outside the woods. Run from there as fast as you can, and don't look back,” he instructed, grasping your hand and guiding you toward the entryway. “I'll distract Amerantha. We know she's been after me, so use this chance to escape,” he murmured before pulling you into an embrace. “You have to survive this. You're nothing like your father; you have to believe that,” he whispered into your hair before ushering you through the door.
Stepping back, you watched him close the door, sharing a silent goodbye. As soon as the door shut, you counted to ten, attempting to steady your nerves before sprinting down the tunnel, the echo of your footsteps resonating through the empty passageway. Reaching the end, you scanned the area and noticed a smaller door obscured by vines. Clearing them away, you pushed against the door, groaning when it refused to budge. The hairs on your neck stood on end as voices echoed in the tunnel, calling out your name. Desperation to escape surged within you. Slamming your shoulder against the door, you stifled a yelp as pain shot through it. As the voices drew closer, your urgency to flee intensified. Pushing against the door one last time, blinding light greeted you, followed by the gentle sounds of birds. Looking up, you realized Tamlin had been right; the exit led right to the edge of the woods. Gathering your dress, you dashed into the forest without a backward glance.
Rhysand sensed trouble the moment he arrived at the Spring Court with his father. Chairs were arranged neatly, and the garden adorned as if for a wedding. Rage fueled him as he surveyed the scene. Having recently lost his mother and younger sister, he found the Spring Court seemingly celebrating. His gaze locked onto Tamlin and his father before his own father scoffed, advancing closer.
"Nice of you to dress up for our arrival, Eldric," his father sneered, moving in.
"To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit, Dorrian?" Eldric replied, narrowing his gaze at the High Lord. Rhysand couldn't tear his burning gaze away from Tamlin, standing uncomfortably beside his father, avoiding eye contact. Tamlin seemed nervous, and Rhysand wondered what had him so on edge.
"Well, I heard there was a celebration. Imagine my surprise when I found out I wasn't invited. Couldn't be because you murdered my wife and child in cold blood, could it? No, maybe my invitation just got lost in transit." Dorrian was many things, but patience was his greatest asset in situations like these. His father enjoyed toying with those who defied him, relishing in their eventual breakdown.
"Unfortunately, you haven't missed much as our main event… got away." Something in those words made Rhysand cringe. Observing Tamlin again, it finally clicked—the reason for their words: a wedding. Tamlin appeared to be the groom, but who was the bride? Knowing his father's political involvement, it could be anyone from a powerful family. This could explain Tamlin's guilt; he was likely the cause for the event's cancellation.
"Rhysand, stay here with Eldric's son. I have matters to discuss with him. Do nothing until I tell you," his father ordered, casting a fiery gaze at Eldric, who smiled in a way that would hasten his demise far sooner than Rhysand wished. Nodding in compliance, he watched them walk away, disappearing from sight.
"Rhys, I'm sorry for what happened. I had no idea my father would go that far," Tamlin began. Raising his hand, Rhysand shook his head. If he listened to Tamlin speak any further, he might lash out, inviting trouble with his father.
"Don't even try, Tamlin. I don't want to hear your excuses. Do you understand what it's like to discover your mother was murdered? Your little sister? She was just a child, Tamlin. Lyra had dreams, a future. And you and your family took that away from her. You stole the life of a child, and your father has the gall to smile about it. And you? You're getting married right after your family ended their lives, celebrating it as if it's an accomplishment," Rhysand spat, shaking his head in disbelief.
Tamlin opened and closed his mouth before nodding. Just as Tamlin attempted to speak again, a piercing scream tore through the building. Moments later, Dorrian emerged, wiping blood off his hands.
"Congratulations, Tamlin. You're now a High Lord. I'll stop my son from killing you, but you're no longer on good terms with the Night Court," Dorrian stated curtly.
Rhysand turned to his father, shaking his head. Tamlin's family had just been slaughtered, and he was expected to keep him alive? How was that fair? Tamlin knew of Eldric's plans and said nothing. They were supposed to be friends, yet Tamlin kept this crucial information from him. He had kept silent, and it cost Rhysand his mother and sister. Clenching his fist, Rhysand shot Tamlin one last look before storming out. He needed space, needed air before he lost control.
Winnowing to the edge of the woods, he walked along the path, the sun beating down on his tanned skin. As he licked his lips, something gold caught his eye. Stopping abruptly, he noticed a young woman struggling with her dress, caught on something.
He focused on the ghastly pattern of the dress, letting realization sink in. The dress matched Tamlin's suit, indicating that this was the woman he was to marry—the one who had fled. She was undeniably beautiful, drawing him in with her vibrant personality. Perhaps it was the cascade of colorful words that escaped her lips as the dress tore, or her defiant kick at the log holding the fabric captive. Her demeanor brought a smile to his face as he observed her. Approaching cautiously, he halted at a safe distance and cleared his throat.
"If this isn’t a damsel in distress, I don’t know what is," he remarked, crossing his arms and leaning against a nearby tree.
The young woman snapped her head up, huffing as she raised an eyebrow. "And are you supposed to be my knight in shining armor? Should I play the part and pretend I’m in distress?" she retorted, giving one last tug at her dress, finally freeing herself from the fabric.
Rhysand snorted, shaking his head. "No, if anything, I’m thoroughly entertained watching you rather than attempting a daring rescue from the scary log," he quipped, his violet eyes scanning the dress, pausing at the uneven tear along its side. "What brings you out here anyway? Looks like you were meant to be getting married," he inquired, straightening up as she shot a fiery glare in his direction.
"I decided to skip the wedding and run away. Why do you care anyway? It doesn't concern you," she grumbled.
"You’re right, it doesn’t. But that doesn’t mean I’m not at least curious why you're out here alone. The least the groom could've done is ensure your safety, so you wouldn’t be vulnerable to harm," he replied.
"Are you thinking of hurting me?" she asked, raising a brow, adopting a more intimidating stance. It struck Rhysand with astonishment. She made a valid point, especially since he had floated the idea.
"No, in fact, I’m the last person who would want to hurt you," he admitted, averting his gaze from her. There was something about her that intrigued him, a compelling allure that made him feel a need to protect her. A snort escaped her lips, drawing his attention back.
"What's your name anyway? Might as well let me know so I know who to haunt if I end up dead," she chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her sense of humor strangely put him at ease. But at the sound of a twig snapping, her head jerked towards the noise before she cleared her throat. "I should go. Enjoy your stroll in the woods," she said, darting away once more, leaving Rhysand lost in thought.
"Rhysand," he whispered as if she could somehow hear him. He turned his head towards a figure standing next to him, tensing as he saw his father shaking his head.
"No wonder she ran from marrying Tamlin; she wasn't meant for the Spring Court," his father remarked, his gaze fixed on the retreating figure of the woman. "Promise me one thing, son. Stay far away from her if you ever cross paths," Dorrian urged, keeping his eyes trained on her direction.
"Why? She seemed harmless. She had a battle with a log over her dress. I doubt she could harm me or you," Rhysand questioned, raising a brow, facing his father, awaiting an explanation.
"Because she's a liability and a danger to both you and your future," Dorrian murmured cryptically.
#rhysand#acotar fanfiction#acotar series#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#rhys acotar#rhys x reader#rhys x you#acotar fandom#rhys x y/n#azriel shadowsinger#cassian#morrigan#rhysand fanfic#feyre archeron#nesta archeron#elain archeron#acosf#a court of silver flames#acomaf#acowar#a court of wings and ruin#acofas#sarah j maas#Spotify
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Haylijah actually slaps when you truly understand them.
Its fault is having too much screen time, which they wasted most of doing nothing
The thing is Elijah is a tragic character, he wants to be a decent person, he in no way enjoys exercising or watching cruelty, he cared deeply for his family and his values, and he felt insane guilt that ate at his soul for centuries over not saving Klaus from their abusive father
Yes he would do anything for those he cares for and yes his number one priority will always be Klaus and he's not a hypocrite, he's well aware of it and he says it
The way he did everything for Klaus and couldn't imagine a world without him that he left his unstable niece alone to die by his side because there's no saving him from the devotion and loyalty he has for him and because in a thousand years Klaus was his only purpose is beautiful and the actor did the role justice to say the least
Elijah was doomed which is why every love story he had or any resemblance of independence and building a life/a purpose outside of Klaus ended up horribly (pretty much always because of Klaus too) yet he still came back to him because that's all he knows and he can't imagine a more perfect atonement for what he perceived as his ultimate sin
It's all fun till hayley comes into picture because soon enough she will have the same destiny Elijah has because she too will have the utmost love and devotion for the piece of shit man who'll also give her life the biggest meaning and she will be running back to him no matter what he does as much as Elijah
So ultimately Elijah's character revolves entirely around Klaus which regardless of Hayley's feelings makes Haylijah impossible to work out and hayley too is way too devoted to that man for Haylijah to work out either
Haylijah was never about Haylijah it was all about klaus-elijah / Klaus-hayley
The show does a magnificent job at portraying the very complicated dynamic between the trio, except when they focus too much on the cheesy and meaningless romantic aspect that is simply not there between Haylijah as opposed to going about Haylijah in the way that shows how both Hayley and Elijah's trauma and past experiences make them have the most nuanced and fucked up love for a very possessive and insecure maniac who loves both of them too much to risk losing one of them in an attempt to be with the woman he loves (his literally words in 5x08)
Haylijah can't exist outside of klayley because there's no Elijah outside of Klaus and there's no hayley outside of Klaus
Elijah's feelings for hayley and Hayley's feelings for Elijah were all about Klaus wether it's the sheer gratitude he had for her for saving Klaus from himself therefore achieving what he's been working towards for a millennium or her need to be loved , cherished and feel safe especially in a time she needed it from Klaus the most
#klayley#the originals#klaus mikaelson#hayley marshall#tvd#klaus x hayley#the vampire diaries#character study#anti haylijah
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On Laudna, Delilah, and Imogen, surrounding the events of c3e65.
\\
There must have been a choice that you made somewhere in there, right? So where was it? The lord and lady of Whitestone have invited you to dinner; it’s such an honor for such a simple farming family. How could anyone refuse? That didn’t feel much like a choice.
You came back - well, not to life, but to something of that sort - and isn’t that a choice? Waking up hanging from a tree? Don’t those god types prattle on about the soul of the dead getting to choose whether or not they came back? Do you even have a soul or is that why you are the way you are? Have you ever had a soul?
You broke the gnarlrock, you killed Bor’dor, both with your own hands - surely, somewhere in there is a choice that you made - isn’t that what life, or whatever it is that you have, is supposed to be? Are your hands your own?
You sit at a table in Jrusar, a place that is meant to be home, with your friends - with Imogen - whom you spent all that time missing desperately. So desperately you lost yourself along the way, you think. If there was anything to lose in the first place. They talk about next steps and who to target next and it’s all you can do to sit there and think how did I get here?
Delilah. It always comes back to Delilah. Your second (third?) life revolves around her, just as she ensured the prior did. Why did she choose you? Why was it you? FCG once told you that you were never alive, and you believed him. Even in your first life, you were no more than a vessel, a doll that was puppeted by everyone around you. Then Delilah gave you a gift and you bore her one in return, but that wasn’t a choice.
It’s maddening, these circles you walk.
Delilah was a monster who, you have heard, acted the way she did out of love. She loved her husband so much she was willing to do awful, awful things. She reshaped an entire city - she reshaped you. You are filled with Delilah, you are a soulless monster, but you don’t feel you act out of love. You didn’t love Orym and Ashton so much that you sucked the life from Bor’dor, you know that. It was never for them, even if Orym gave you his approval. So what was it? Did you drain his life for her - for that deep, dull heartbeat that is not your own yet exists within you? Surely, surely not. You don’t love Delilah - but who are you without her? Can there exist such a love, a love without peace?
Delilah’s words echo in your ears for just a moment, drowning out your friends, and making you jump - you see, at the end of all things, only yourself can be relied on, when all love is taken. Her words follow you wherever you go, whether she’s speaking to you at the present moment or not. Imogen sees you wince and her eyes search yours, but you can’t bear to look at her.
Imogen, you were told in uncharacteristic softness by Ashton, had given you a choice. You hadn’t been able to hear her - you were dead, again, and death is dark and murky and so far away from her light - but she had given you the choice to come back. You didn’t hear her, but when the spell did come through, an unfamiliar wave of light and such softness you had never before seen, you had felt that choice, finally. It didn’t come as a difficult one: your friends were waiting for you, and you couldn’t leave them after everything they had done for you. Whatever peace may have been waiting for you on the other side, without Delilah, was not for you. You couldn’t leave them with a heartbreak as large as that.
After all, they fought Delilah back for you, something you had never been able to do. You are a vessel, nothing more. You didn’t hear her voice except for what echoes in your head always - even without her there, you had come to find out. You truly are a wretched, haunted thing. Back then, you had dared to hope one day even these echoes would rot, and maybe you would find that you were more than a blank slate others had written on. Your magic changed, just as the Sun Tree had. Just as Whitestone had. It was truly gleaming in the sunlight now, allowing its name to no longer sound like a mockery. You had met children who would never know the darkness that prowled those streets. And they had laughed! Not at you, but with you! Your friends - Imogen - they gave you the opportunity to grow, to become better, just as your old home had.
And what had you done, with that chance? Betrayed them. You betrayed them. You had killed Bor’dor for that, and here they are, offering you a grace you had never once considered giving him. He didn’t deserve it, and neither do you.
A soulless monster, a vessel for an even greater monster. At least she acted for love - doesn’t that make her better than you? She had - has - a great conviction, and here you are, bleeding black ichor everywhere, staining everyone who treats you with such kindness. Making them worse. Bringing Delilah back with you, because of course she isn’t gone. She made you, after all, just as you formed Pâté. You cannot be unbound, and maybe you don’t deserve to be.
Maybe - you glance at Imogen, make sure the circlet is securely on her head, keep your wickedness to yourself - maybe you don’t want to be. Your anxious hands twist around one another, clench and unclench, and you make sure the belts are secure around your waist.
You find a way to make your mouth move, speaking as if it were a rusty hinge, because you’re angry and you take it out on the others but they don’t deserve it - they’ve done too much for you. It doesn’t matter that they were shopping and fucking and making new best friends while you were revealing to yourself what you’ve always known to be true. You will find a way to be pleasant and to share information with them and to pretend to care about their adventures. You must. FCG hates that you killed an angel of the Dawnfather. You don’t care.
They start to argue again, FCG and Chetney, at a volume you cannot tolerate with all of this darkness swirling around in your gut. You take the opportunity to tune them out, to close your eyes and rip more of your hair out. Perhaps if you remove enough the guilt will start to pull out with it.
You’re gently shaken from this penance by a soft touch from across the table, by Imogen’s quiet voice calling your name. “Where are you going?” You choke out, hoping the question is the correct one.
“Wherever you’re going,” her response is soft and sweet, much more than you deserve. The others try to pipe up with ideas, but your ears are only for her. “We can go see our old house,” she suggests. You cling to it like a lifeline, and away you go.
\\
You’ve always liked Zhudanna. She’s always been kind to the two of you, even if you arrived in her life much like a storm. The two of you were always running back then. You’re not sure you stopped.
Zhudanna is old and wrinkled and she represents a life you will never have, but you hope desperately Imogen will one day experience. Though, of course, you hope Imogen does a little better at taking care of herself than subsisting solely off of oranges. You don’t stop to ponder where you are in this reality where Imogen gets to grow to be only kind and she lives to be wrinkly - you will never age; you will stay as you are. You’ve already proven to yourself that vessels do not get to grow, and your appearance will reflect this.
You and Imogen head towards the market in comfortable silence. You’ve been quiet with her before, of course, and that coupled with being home has left you with feeling like a warm blanket has been wrapped around your shoulders. It isn’t much, a small comfort, but it’s the beginning of something better, you think. Imogen has her spark, and she is your anchor - she will reign you in, as she always has. She tethers you to reality, keeps you from slipping into the inky black which fills you. At the very least, you think this excursion will stop you from spilling it onto others, as you did at the table.
Imogen seems off, though, and you can’t guess why. Did you upset her? That wasn’t what you meant to do. How could you have done this to her? She doesn’t deserve it, of course not, not after everything she’s done for you. Add another betrayal to the list, Laudna. No wonder you’re barely permitted to breathe.
You apologize to her profusely, trying desperately to get her smile to come back - you’ve infected her with your darkness, after all.
Her hand keeps returning to her circlet, a habit you had noticed at the table, too. Did she pick that up while she was away, with the others? Was there someone whose thoughts she had needed to hear? She stops you from spiraling: “It’s weird, Laudna, I can’t hear your thoughts.” Isn’t that a good thing, though? You’re one step closer to a normal life, to… to being able to leave me behind. You can’t voice that, either. “It’s great, but it’s also strange,” she says, and you can’t help but think she’s somewhere far away.
You attempt to reassure her, to bring her back to you: “You don’t have to listen in to get my thoughts.” You end the thought there, but really Imogen doesn’t have to do anything to get whatever she wants from you. You’d follow her anywhere.
“Can I kiss you?” She blurts, snapping both of you to attention here, in this marketplace. “I can’t tell if it’s all right or not anymore.”
Your thoughts stop walking their maddening circles, finding, instead, that there is another path to take. They stop entirely, first. You had heard Orym desperately trying to contact Dorian and that wizard fellow from the solstice using the sending stones, but they would always fizzle and crackle loudly. Your brain hums a lot like that right now.
“All right,” you breathe out, perhaps before you’re even aware of it. You blink a few times. “All right,” you’re a little more confident now, having taken a second to at least process the words both of you have uttered.
“All right,” she echoes, looking like her question had surprised her, too. Her eyes meet yours and she smiles at you. “So I will.”
You don’t have time to linger on that because suddenly Imogen is in front of you in a way she has never been before. She presses her lips, unbelievably, to yours, and she is so warm. You had forgotten how warm she is, having spent the last week sleeping alone. It’s her spark, you’re sure - she is warm, capable, and so strong. And her lips are soft and she tastes of oranges and-
And she’s kissing you? She backs away, then, as if she’s heard your thoughts, tries to tell you you don’t have to reciprocate if that’s not how you feel after all. You reach for her, not with your hands, which have frozen in their cold, dead, clenched place. The only thing you have at your disposal are your words, which are tangled up because your heart, your heart, is beating faster than it has in thirty years, and that rapid beat is not leaving much room for the words to make a sound within you.
You stutter a few times and land on: “Obviously I care for you an immense deal…” The choice you’ve made this time is the wrong one. Her face falls - she thinks this is you turning her down. As if you could ever do anything but reach from your shadows toward her light.
You try again, your earlier spiral rising back up before you can stop it. You’re nothing without her, all you do is bad things, you murder, you betray, spilling inky blackness everywhere-
“You’re not a bad person,” She states, as if it’s a fact. You blink, trying desperately to believe her. “You’re not a bad person,” She repeats, her purple irises meeting yours, the wind teasing her hair.
It’s your turn to surprise yourself - you kiss her. Your hands finally unclench, and they seek her warmth, wherever you can put them. You desperately want her light to fill you up instead, and you’re trying to physically make it happen. All at once, everything you have ever felt for Imogen explodes within your chest. The younger woman with glowing scars who was the first to show any kindness to the dead woman in the woods - how it felt when it was just the two of you camping, how you slept curled around her, not to share warmth, but to protect her - Imogen sliding a ruby ring around your finger - how Otohan’s sword felt as it pierced your chest - how it felt to come back to life in Imogen’s arms.
You’ve never cared much about the gods. Their existence in Exandria is undeniable; you’ve never fought that. There are a whole lot of people who crave a personal relationship with the divine but not a single one is equipped to handle the consequences. You don’t have room for that sort of trouble - Delilah fills you with power and consequences enough.
Consequently, you’ve never put a lot of thought into what the divine truly means to you. Matilda never cared much about it - she was too busy pretending to be a lady and prancing about the fields of youth. To FCG, the divine is answers to the questions they have, faith in their coin and their goddess and caring for people around them. For Delilah, you think, it was love, but her love was not rooted in peace, and therefore was not love. That has to be why she had the world and then lost it. That fact snaps into you with startling clarity as you hold Imogen in this marketplace - there is a stark difference between you and Delilah after all. The woman who brought you back to life (for the third time) had worshiped a god of light and healing, and she had aided you in stepping out into a Whitestone full of sunshine. Perhaps that was the closest you had come to being something new.
But this, you think, with Imogen breathlessly in your arms, this is your divine. You will learn how to love her exactly the way she wants to be loved. Perhaps you already do.
A long, long time ago, she had turned to you with excitement in her eyes, a cozy town around you, and exclaimed, “I love it here! Seriously, Laudna, let’s move here, after everything.” Back then, you had just smiled and nodded. Of course - you would follow Imogen anywhere. It was only logical you would accompany her there.
The memory makes your breath catch, and she looks up at you, her head resting against your chest. Is this what she had meant? Even then, could she imagine a life with you? A domestic life, full of ordinary comforts, with you? Monstrous dead woman with a dead pervert rat companion? She never could have predicted what the “after everything” would entail, even to this point. You can’t imagine what the “everything” has in store for you both next. A pang of fear hits you, a new one amidst the many that the return of your purple magic had brought. You can’t lose her. You won’t. Perhaps Delilah’s world-shattering love had reached you after all.
“We’ll make it right again,” Imogen said, referring to Delilah. You realize now that you can’t - not if she will help you protect this. Not if she makes you strong enough to save Imogen.
“Maybe it’s our destiny to harness,” you have a hard time looking at Imogen as you say this, thinking of Delilah. You have a harder time looking anywhere else. You will use that bitch, you will continue to live with her, if it means you can preserve this little sliver of good that the universe has permitted you to have. Your hands mindlessly drift from Imogen’s back to the belts you have worn all of these years.
“Maybe it’s our destiny to fight it.” Imogen counters, her circlet secure, no way of knowing what you’re thinking. You think only time will tell where you both fall in the history of all of this, and she bumps you with her shoulder as you both turn to get Zhudanna’s groceries. Even that familiar touch sends a shiver through you - everything is different now. “Together either way,” she grins, and it blossoms in your chest. You feel warm inside, even though you know your body is not designed for that anymore.
She takes you shopping so you can finally get a dress that matches the beautiful corset she’s given you. Imogen, gorgeous Imogen, with her circlet that shines in the afternoon sun, has no way of knowing who you’ve been thinking of all day, and that this corset is reminiscent of exactly what she would wear. Imogen had met her but the once, and Imogen at the moment in time she bought this corset had no reason to know that she had returned. The only person whose entire axis had shifted as Bor’dor’s husk fell from your hands as you came back to yourself, a heartbeat that was not yours thumping in your ears, was you.
You play the part you’re given: you are a vessel and you are, you have come to realize, in love. You’d said before that you loved Imogen, of course you did, but it took her courage to make you realize exactly what way you loved Imogen. So you will do both: you will be a vessel and you will keep Imogen safe. You must.
And, as always, with your gray skin and black eyes, your appearance must reflect that. You pick a deep purple dress, smiling at Imogen standing before you, but seeing, too, a lady of Whitestone in her purple dress and corset, her high neckline affixed by green glass, as she hands you belts and a blue outfit.You put on the dress and the corset, holding the belts you’ve worn for thirty years. The belts you’ve worn since you were last really, truly, alive and breathing.
You tell Imogen whose belts they are without thinking - the words tumble from your mouth cheerfully, because you are glad to dress like a lady, despite everything. “Oh!” She exclaims, and though you were focused on the outfit you do take a moment to realize that you’ve done it again. You’ve been horrifying without meaning to. You will learn not to do this, you affirm within yourself. Imogen deserves only the best.
Regardless, you attach those belts to the house you keep Pâté in. You will carry them around just as you always have, and him, too, even if he is annoying and disgusting and you hate him a little. It was easier before he could speak. You acknowledge to yourself that everything you hate in him you hate in you, too, and Imogen cannot stop you from this. You will carry around a reminder of who you are and what has happened to you, but that isn’t everything.
Tonight, you get to go to the closest thing you have to home, and Imogen will be there with you. You will hold her soft, scarred hands in your own twisted hands, just as you have so many times before, but there is new meaning to it now. You will undress, baring your horrible scar, and you will see her glowing scars as she does the same. You will sleep in the same bed and you will hold her. She will try to make your cold body warm and you will allow her to. You will love her the way she wants to be loved, for as long as she permits you to, and you will keep her safe, like shielding a candle in a raging storm. Her warmth, her glow, is not yours to devour; this is your call to worship, your benediction. You are the one who could live forever but you will spend it in service of her, in whatever way she asks of you.
#laudna#laudna cr#imogen temult#delilah briarwood#cr 3#cr3#southern gothic#imodna#c3e65#cr fic#critical role#critical role fic#i haven't written fanfic since i was in high school so I apologize if this is nothing#but i care about laudna a whole lot and i needed to write this
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