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spacingstars · 20 days

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Sometimes, I find myself breaking down Kix’s character, turning over his traits, his patterns and behaviors… and more and more I find the personality construed by fandom for Kix to be so wildly jarring from what we do have of Kix.

Kix has, roughly, 17 minutes of screen time across the entirety of TCW, which, when compared to the likes of Fives and Rex, who clock much more screen time than most other clones, this doesn’t seem like a lot—but when you factor in most clones' screen time, we get a lot of Kix, and there’s a lot you can learn about him if you pay attention to the moments he does have on screen.

And to illustrate my point, and because I genuinely love Kix, I’m taking it upon myself to examine what we do have of Kix—both for my own purposes, creatively, and because I also happen to enjoy being neurotically intense about my favorite characters.

From “The Deserter” (S02:10) which is also Kix’s debut episode:

1. Kix speaks with a softer and gentler affliction in his voice compared to other clones (as seen with Jesse, who debuts alongside Kix and contrasts him in being more assertive.) I generally extrapolate this to be reflective of a softness that underscores Kix’s mannerisms. 2. When confronted by Suu, Kix doesn’t react with aggression of defensiveness (even if he’s also escorting an injured Rex and has a rifle pointed at him,) instead he opts to gently, and slowly, explain the situation, (in fact, Suu cuts him off and it is Jesse who has to explain, Jesse, who speaks quickly and in a more assertive manner than Kix did.) Kix’s tone is also likely influenced by caution. 3. The most notable scene in this episode that Kix appears in is when he’s tending to an injured Rex—I say notable because I think it informs much of how Kix treats his patients, even when they’re being uncooperative. Because in this scene, Kix is nothing but gentle an caring towards Rex, even when Rex tries to order Kix into letting him back into the fight despite the nerve damage he’s taken from the shot to his chest. When he pulls rank on Rex it is done so firmly, but kindly, and his face is one of sheepishness. If this scene shows anything, it’s that Kix is patient.

From Kix’s debut episode, what can be described about his character is that he’s much more reserved and gentle in comparison to the much more assertive personality of Jesse—from his mannerisms to the tone of his voice. He will be firm, but he is not unkind. He also shows patience towards his patient, even when said patient is, initially, being uncooperative.

From Umbara (S04:07 - S04:10) which is when Kix gets the most screen time:

1. The first moment of note Kix appears in is when he raises concerns to Rex about the pace Krell has had them marching at, that this pace is taking its toll on the men and they need to rest. Kix raises these concerns respectfully, secondly, Kix is doing his duty as a medic, which, is fundamental to his character, finally, Kix cares about those around him and he does what he can to ensure the welfare of these men. (And also, I think it’s quite telling that Kix doesn’t press the issue after Krell scolds them for it, as noted before, Kix does not have an assertive personality.) 2. When Kix is taking care of an injured clone he’s dragged into cover Kix retains his professionalism and keeps himself together even under stress. Kix comforts his patient instead, and I think it speaks of that gentleness I keep mentioning that Kix says, “You’re gonna be okay, buddy, this’ll ease the pain.” Kix is comforting, and he holds himself together under stress because he has his brothers to take care of. 3. I think it’s also notable that when Torrent is starting to express their distrust in Krell, though you can tell Kix is beginning to get frustrated with the treatment of the men (expressing that with Krell’s plan, casualties will be high,) his comments are not nearly has harsh as those of Tup or Jesse. Once again, Kix is shown to be more reserved, and I see it as him maintaining his professionalism in raising these concerns, even as he is beginning to grow frustrated with this poor treatment. 4. The note of Kix beginning to grow frustrated with the treatment of his brothers will be expanded upon throughout the Umbara arc; especially in light of Kix taking his frustration and horror out on the wildlife of Umbara for feeding on the corpses of his brothers. If I am to extrapolate, those dead clones serve as a reminder to Kix; a remainder that he, more and more, has been unable to properly care for all his injured brothers. These clones are a reminder to Kix of the brothers he could not save. This is the first crack within Kix, due to the stress of Umbara, and I have to emphasis, this is not Kix’s normal pattern of behavior. 5. Continuing the thread of Kix beginning to crack under the pressures of Umbara, there is a moment in Umbara where Kix is tending to an injured clone—one that’s in his arms, and this clone gets shot to death in Kix’s arms. This is directly Kix being unable to save a clone’s life despite being right there, because Umbara is that overwhelming—to such a degree that he’s forced to leave behind the injured in this moment, even if he can save them. And this is another crack in Kix’s composure, because he snaps at Rex, he drops his professionalism and his respect, and even resorts to barbed comments against Rex for ordering him from tending to the injured because Torrent needs Kix alive. This is not Kix’s normal behavior, this is Kix, stressed and crumbling under the weight of Umbara. 6. The last notable scene Kix appears in, and this is the moment where Kix finally breaks under Umbara’s pressure—it’s the moment where he starts haphazardly firing his blaster at the enemy. This is intended to be shocking—because this is not how Kix nominally acts, he’s in immense distress, and it takes Tup pulling him into cover to get him to calm down. Kix holds his composure for so long, and when he does break, he breaks hard. 7. To cap off the Umbara thoughts, though Kix does have more scenes, he is relegated to a background character for the most part—but, I can only imagine what was going through Kix’s head when he had, under the orders of Krell, fired upon other clones, it is completely counter to who he is, both as a person and as a medic, and I imagine it cuts deep—as it did for all clones involved in that moment, but for Kix… some of that hurt I imagine would be coming from how he’s meant to save his brothers lives, he’s the medic… and yet, in that moment, all he did was take theirs.

Umbara shows that Kix—who has been shown to be a respectful, kind, and helpful clone who just earnestly wants to do his duty in providing his brothers with the care he needs—is broken by an inability to help.

From the Chip arc (S06:01 - S06:04):

1. Not much to be said about some of Kix’s first appearances in this arc, as Kix is doing what he does as a medic (and expressing concern for Tup.) But the scene where Tup is in the infirmary, and Kix is confused about what’s wrong with Tup, I do think that Kix being willing to say that he can’t figure out what’s wrong, and that if they want answers, he’ll need to be sent back to Kamino, is indicative of Kix is aware of the limitations in his knowledge and is willing to humble himself. 2. This is more light-hearted scene (at first, anyway,) and is mostly conjecture on my part but I find it too amusing to leave out. That is the scene in which Kix is checking himself out in the mirror at 79’s. I do not think this is indicative of Kix being conceited about his looks—rather, I think it’s indicative of something else entirely in light of how he also talks in this scene. When he realizes someone else walks in, he talks with a deeper tone that I can only describe as Kix trying to present himself as being cool and mysterious. All the while he’s nonchalantly brushing his shoulders off. It’s so funny to me, especially when he realizes it’s Fives who just walked in, and immediately he tone switches to his typical inflection—and his mannerisms return to the typical ones we’ve seen of him. (Yes, I also think Kix had the haircut he does because he tries to present himself as cooler than he actually is, I imagine he grew embarrassed by this insistence given he grows it out later on—Kix is a dork, I said what I said.) 3. And yes, Kix immediately jumping to concern, before offering his help to Fives—even if his duty would insist that he turn Fives in because of the attempted assassination—I think, this is because Kix fixates on Fives’ distress, and he focuses on how to alleviate that stress, so even as it’s clear he’s confused by what Fives has gotten himself into, Kix still offers his help, and gives it freely in getting Fives in direct contact with Anakin and Rex at his behest. It’s a strong moment for his character, and his face when he asks what he can do to help… it’s so earnest. He’s loyal to his brothers.

And finally, there is the Echo arc of season 7, (S07:01 - S07:04):

1. When their gunship gets shot down, Kix is the first to notice that Cody was injured in the wreck and is trapped; I put this down to Kix being attentive and keeping track of the head count of the party he’s with, something done because he is the team medic and he is responsible for the well being of those around him first and foremost. 2. Then there is the scene at the campfire, which, firstly shows the bond Jesse and Kix have given the ease of banter between them and the comfort between them in their interactions. Secondly, I find it interesting how when Wrecker strangles Jesse, while Rex resorts to more direct action (trying to pull Wrecker by his collar,) Kix kind of just hovers, it’s a pretty… non-violent action when Rex and Jesse both jump to the defensive with the batch (Rex, even more directly, later on, when he actually punches Crosshair.) Similarly, even when Crosshair shoves Kix away, Kix shoves back before getting stuck in a headlock, and even after getting out of the headlock, at most he puts his hands on Crosshair to keep shoving him away. Generally, Kix is a lot less confrontational compared to either Jesse and Rex are in regards to the batch—which, circles around to my point of Kix not being as assertive, neither will he be overly aggressive towards allies. (This may be extrapolated as Kix refusing to take more direction action against another clone, given Umbara. But, that’s just extrapolation; a theory, a musing on motives.) 3. (Also yes I am aware that Kix makes jabs about the batch and I mostly construe this to be that Kix can be judgmental about others when he’s skeptical of them, I have my reasons as to why I’m not putting a lot of weight on this but it’s tied to a critique of the arc’s writing, which is not what this is about.)

In summation, Kix is shown, repeatedly, to be someone whose kind and helpful—what matters most to him is the care and well being of his brothers. He’s earnest in that care, and he’s got a softness that underscores a lot of his mannerisms and speech. He does his best to hold himself together for the sake of his brothers. He gets frustrated and breaks down in the face of mounting casualties and an inability to help his brothers. He’s respectful and professional in how he conducts himself as a medic, and even if he pulls rank, he’s firm but kind about it—he expresses patience in how he handles those under his care. Additionally, and in my own conjecture of his character, Kix tries to present himself as cooler than he actually is, suggesting a level of dorky insecurity to him. He’s also shown to lash out and make barbed comments when he’s incredibly stressed, and Kix carries judgment towards others when he’s skeptical of them.

What Kix is not is a hard ass medic whose sick of everyone’s shit, who berates and scolds his patients relentlessly—complaining about how they make his job harder. He is not quick to anger nor does he easily take his frustrations out on those around him—especially those under his care. He does not constantly throw his rank around to get those under his care to do what he wants.

It is a far cry from Kix’s character, and I think it’s a damn shame Kix’s actual character gets ignored in favor in fanon, because honestly, Kix as he is in canon is incredibly interesting—carrying a host of traits that can be explored and examined in their own right.

(Also, in quick references, I’ve narrowed down two videos that compiled Kix’s screen time across TCW, this one which clocks at ~14 minutes, and the second one with clocks in at ~17 minutes.)

#help I'm star wars posting #Clone Medic Kix #Star Wars #Fandom Stuff #Long Post #Space's Fandom Stuff #do I need a meta tag now #technically?#Fandom Salt #Fandom Nonsense

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antiphilosophia · 9 months

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Crowley's pre-fall name is BARAQIEL (THEORY)

THIS POST MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS OR RATHER CLUES FOR GOOD OMENS SEASON 2 CONTENTS, PROCEED WITH CAUTION 🤍

Very well. Who doesn't love the Crowley is the Archangel Raphael theory (I am certainly of those people who do). During my first watch of Good Omens S2 I was even somehow almost confident that that was the case.

However, my second, more careful, viewing of this lovely (but equally heartbreaking) season made me change my mind, likely for good. In episode 4, Furfur's book "Demon's Guide To Angelic Beings Who Walk The Earth" shows us a name of a certain angel Baraqiel. (see photo below) Knowing Good Omens that can hardly be a coincidence.

Unfortunately, the very text is quite unreadable. One thing, other than the name, which is pretty clear is the subheading "Angel of the Sky" and since the episode 1 lets us take a look at how Crowley did indeed take part in creation of what is to be seen in the night sky, one can hardly find that entirely non-fitting. One other sentence I was (at least I think) able to read is "Often draped in red."

(On a different note but certainly worth noticing are scribbles that generally just roast Crowley – his suspiciousness, hair and name (though I am not absolutely sure of the latter) "His hair is bad!" Wow, Furfur really does hate Crowley.)

Then there is something written above the name of Baraqiel, unfortunately in none of the picture frames does it get a bit readable. I wonder though, couldn't it be "former"? Since it comes precisely after mention of Crowley to whom should one report on Aziraphale.

Crowley is very powerful. Dominion

A word that is not exactly readable but can be deduced from its placement (it is situated just as Aziraphale's "Principality") is Baraqiel's rank – Dominion Angel. It should be noted here that I very much lack proper knowledge of either Jewish or Christian mythology and I would hate to provide any incorrect claims. I therefore think it is better for me not to overly state things, even more so since everyone can look into it on their own and figure out what that might mean for our beloved demon. What I will say, however, is that they are (as I understand it) very powerful and, placed within the 2nd triad in the angel hierarchy, ranked higher than the Archangels. This would go well along with the emphasis that was in my opinion laid on Crowley's powers quite a lot this season.

For example: "A miracle of enormous power happened last night. The kind of miracle only the mightiest of archangels could've performed," said Shax to Crowley, to which he replied: "How'd you know I didn't do it?" He didn't get an answer.

What I think (and I may be very wrong, obviously) is that a miracle of this vastness wouldn't have happened simply because of a regular angel and a regular demon did together half a miracle each. What is also worth noticing is that the tool with which Crowley created the Nebula is the same as the one he used to temporarily stop time at the end of season 1 right before Satan's arrival. So much to the size of his powers.

Baraqiel, lightning of God. Fallen angel

Finally, to Baraqiel himself. My lack of knowledge concerning this matter still stands and frankly I don't even know where to find valid information about angels and such on the internet. Baraqiel should, however, stand for "lightning of God" and is also regarded as the angel of lightning. In season 2 there are (as far as I remember) two occasions where Crowley is put in correlation with lightning. (1) His poor anger management issues in episode 1 and (2) his not at all better matchmaking in episode 3 ("I haven't done weather in ages"). Furthermore, Baraqiel is considered to be the one who taught astrology to people. Nevertheless, what points to Crowley and Baraqiel being one even more is that Baraqiel is indeed a fallen angel.

•

So... That is probably it. I usually tent to theorize about stuff in quiet, in fact, this is the first time I've used Tumblr for anything other than reading Neil Gaiman's posts. I didn't even think that I would actually post it but then I've searched on Twitter, TikTok and here on Tumblr if anyone else has already come up with this theory. The only post I could find (hopefully I haven't missed anything) was by @valaza_04 on Twitter (click here) where they refer to the same frame shot as I do here.

Now I know, we are still recovering from heartbreaking (but if you ask me, absolutely amazing) finale and the main thing currently on our minds is figuring out why would Aziraphale choose as he did and the many wonderful theories that come with it. However, considering the utterly virulent look that Metatron shot at Crowley before walking out of the bookshop with Aziraphale and also his "Well, [Crowley] always did want to go his own way. Always asking damn fool questions, too." makes me think that he absolutely does not care for Crowley and whichever angel he was before the Fall. And I reckon it won't remain unnoticed in season 3 and might even be really important (or that is just me wishing for more pre-fall Crowley scenes). Hence I decided that I will post this. And it doesn't matter if no one will see this in the end, it was quite fun to write. However, if there is someone who will read this all the way through, I hope they will accept my apology for the mistakes I have most possibly made (English is not my first language) and also for the ridiculous length this post has come to gather. It turns out, I am just as chatty of a writer as I am speaker.

Well maybe I will come around to write one more post about this theory, only with a proper research this time. Till then thank you and, please, support this season by streaming as much as you can so we can have season 3 of this masterpiece of a show. And be kind to those bringing it to us in your comments regarding the ending, even though it is very frustrating and heart-shattering, it is also maybe the best ending we could have hoped for with the prospects of season 3.

Thank you for letting me talk my heart out, Tumblr.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens spoilers #go2 #go s2 #crowley #pre fall crowley #crowley's angel name #good omens 2 #david tennant #neil gaiman #aziraphale #good omens theory #baraqiel

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stevie-petey · 5 months

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episode four: the body

For the second time within a week, Steve Harrington almost kills you with his stupid BMW. Granted, the first time wasn’t necessarily his fault due to your crying, but this time just felt personal. “Hey! Henderson!” “Jesus christ-” You’re biking to the Wheeler’s, lost in thought as the sun begins to set, when stupid Harrington scares the shit out of you. His unexpected shouting causes you to swerve your bike towards his car and he has to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting you. “Do you, like, have a fantasy about me hitting you with my car?”

summary: you basically have a "no babe don't cry over ur dead brother ur so sexy" moment with jonathan, hopper plays mr love doctor (cute date idea: coffin shopping), and somehow nancy wheeler makes you realize that you're a horrible babysitter and an even bigger idiot. meanwhile: steve harrington is frustratingly charming.

rating: general but plenty of cursing as usual.

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.

words: 8k

before you swing in: hello ! happy eve of a spending time with loved ones, however ya choose to celebrate or not celebrate and all that jazz. i hope y'all are well and doing okay :) a LOT happens in this chapter, so buckle up. so many feelings and revelations my god. also this chapter is one i really loved writing purely because i got to explore more of steve and reader so ,,, ya welcome ! (hopefully i was able to clear up jonathans thoughts and how he processes, i really want it to come across as someone hurt and overwhelmed rather than just him being cranky lmao). anyways, enjoy !!

It’s a quiet morning.

You roll over, the sunlight streaming through your curtains, and for a moment you forget. It’s a blissful moment, sweet naivety that strokes your cheek and coaxes your eyes open. As you throw your arms over your head and stretch, last night’s events haven’t caught up to you quite yet.

Then you feel Jonathan’s body next to yours and for a moment you’re confused. He never sleeps in your bed whenever he spends the night, being ever the gentleman. No matter how many times you offer, he always insists on respecting your mother’s wishes and sleeping on the giant beanbag chair within your room, and it always makes your heart warm.

Your mother had specifically bought the beanbag for Jonathan when you were thirteen. He had been spending more and more nights at your home, sneaking in through your window to avoid his parents fighting. At first he would simply fall asleep on your carpet, despite your many reassurances that he could sleep in your bed, so when your mom unexpectedly barged into your room one morning and saw him lying face down on the ground, she freaked.

Once you had explained everything to her (with Jonathan’s permission), she had shoved you guys into her car, dropped him off at his house, and then found the beanbag at a garage sale for $10.

“This way, he’ll have a place to sleep that’s soft and cozy, away from my young daughter,” she had said during the drive home. You had covered your face in embarrassment at her implication, but you were also incredibly proud to call her your mom at that moment. She may be overbearing at times, but she was the kindest woman you’ve ever met.

You rub your eyes and glance at the bean bag that sits between your bed and wall, its dusty blue color almost glowing in the early morning light. Then you glance at Jonathan, who has woken up before you, and notice the redness in his eyes and the dark circles now darker than ever.

Then it all comes rushing back to you.

Will’s body in the quarry.

Holding your brother as he mourned his friend.

El, so quiet and shy and sweet, running away after your cruel dismissal.

Jonathan showing up to your window hours later, broken and devastated.

Then, late into the night, the two of you falling asleep, side by side in your bed, both needing each other more than ever before.

The two of you get ready without saying anything. You hand Jonathan some spare clothes of his that you keep in a drawer before giving him some space as you go and take a shower. You spend longer than usual getting ready, but you pay no attention to the clock. There’s no way you’re going to school today. You’re not leaving Jonathan alone for even a second.

Jonathan finishes getting ready before you do and waits in your room. Neither of you have said anything yet, last night being too fresh in your memories, but words aren’t needed between the two of you.

You take his hand and lead him into your kitchen and wordlessly hand him a banana. He stares at you, and you stare back, silently challenging him to decline the food. He needs to eat. You’ve noticed how thin he’s gotten with everything happening.

He sighs, knowing he won’t win this fight, and takes a bite out of the banana in a mocking manner, but you’re just relieved he’s eating.

You grab your own breakfast before writing a note for your mom, informing her that you’ll be with Jonathan today and promising to make up any missed assignments as soon as you can. Then you quietly go into Dustin’s room to check up on him, but his bed is empty. You glance at his alarm clock and note the early hour, he doesn’t normally leave for school for another thirty minutes, which makes you frown.

Where the hell did the kid run off to?

An uneasy feeling settles over you, but you don’t have time to question anything. Knowing Dustin, he ran off to school earlier than usual to see his friends and distract himself from last night. While your mom offered you both to stay home for the rest of the week due to Will’s death, neither of you have ever been good at staying put and dealing with your emotions.

Wherever your brother is, you know he needs his space.

Once everything is settled, you join Jonathan in his car and drive to his place. While he never explicitly asked you to this morning, you know that you’re going to his house with him to help him deal with his mother and the funeral preparations.

He doesn’t have to ask, and you don’t have to tell him that you’ll help.

You both just know.

About halfway to his place, Jonathan finally speaks.

“The cops say that Will crashed his bike and fell into the quarry,”

“Jonathan, we don’t have to talk about it right now-”

“My mom doesn’t believe that he’s dead. She-she insists that he’s in the walls, that he can speak through-through… Christmas lights.”

His voice shakes as he speaks, and you can’t tell if it’s due to grief or anger.

“Will is dead and my mom chooses to believe that there’s some monster in our walls that took him.”

“A monster?” you think about El and her powers and the fear on the boys’ faces when she pulled out the Demogorgon piece. Then you remember the other night at the Byers’ home when Joyce came running outside as the lights were flickering wildly. Her fear had been genuine.

“A fucking monster that’s hiding in our walls. She wouldn’t… she wouldn’t listen, Y/N. I tried talking to her, to calm her down, but she just…” His words fade off, and he clenches his jaw as tightens his hands around the steering wheel.

You’re not sure what to say. It’s a tough situation, a fucking heartbreaking one, and it’s all so unfair. Jonathan needs his mom, but his mom needs Will.

You rest your hand behind his head and allow your fingers to rub circles against his skin. He leans into your touch, and for now this is all you can do.

The state of the Byers’ home has only gotten worse since the last time you were there. There’s now letters painted on the wall and string lights placed all throughout the house. There’s also clothes in random corners and trash thrown around.

Jonathan had been staying in this house alone, watching his mother spiral. Your stomach twists with guilt.

You should’ve been there more for him, but instead you allowed your petty need to help everyone distract you from what’s important.

Joyce is passed out on the couch with an ax clutched between her hands, which breaks your heart even more. Jonathan walks over to wake her up and you give the two of them some privacy as you head into the kitchen to make Joyce some breakfast.

Their fridge is barren, but you aren’t surprised. You make do with the few eggs you find and get to work; it isn’t much, but it’ll have to do. As you prepare breakfast, you notice a stack of Will’s drawings on the kitchen table, which causes you to gag with remorse.

There’s still so much of Will within these walls, his entire childhood still locked inside, untouched, and yet the house lacks his presence.

He’s gone.

–

You wait with Hopper in the morgue waiting room, nervously tapping your foot and frantically trying to distract yourself with a comic. The words blur together in your head and the images float around. You can’t focus on anything. For once, Spidey’s quips and banter can’t distract you from reality.

Not only are you incredibly worried for Joyce and Jonathan, but the thought of Will’s body being a wall away from you sends chills down your spine. You can’t imagine what’s happening behind the doors, and you’re secretly relieved that you’ll never know.

“What’s taking so long?” Hopper’s voice breaks you from your thoughts.

You put your comic down and listen, figuring that it’s best if you’re caught up on everything so that you can store away any useful information for later.

The front desk lady sighs. “Well, everything’s been a bit chaotic around here without Gary.”

This catches Hopper’s attention. “Without Gary?”

“I thought you knew. Those men from State, they… they sent Gary home last night.”

Now this catches your attention. Why would the State replace the town’s coroner?

“So who did the autopsy?”

“Someone from State.”

Hopper looks at you, almost as if to ask if you’re also hearing this, and you give him a slight nod. It’s odd, really damn odd.

“Why would they send someone for a little boy?” You ask Hopper, but he only shakes his head in response.

In the back of your mind, you think about what El had warned you of. The bad men, the people she has to hide from… it didn’t make sense at the time, but now…

Your thoughts are cut off as Jonathan runs out the door, his hand over his mouth, and you immediately get up to help him outside. He throws up against the wall outside, and you wince at the smell. You’ve never been good with people getting sick, but Jonathan needs you right now, so you rub soothing circles on his back as he throws up. Once he’s done, you head back inside and wait for Joyce.

You offer Jonathan a tissue before coaxing him to rest his head on your shoulder. Having nothing else to do, yet urgently wanting to help, you begin to read him some panels from your comic. He doesn’t say anything, so you take it as a sign to keep going. Your voice is hoarse from all your crying, but you read aloud anyways.

Hopper watches your interaction with a small interest. You don’t notice his curious eyes and the way they seem to glint with sincerity. In his eyes, the two of you will get together soon enough.

After a couple minutes, Hopper finally asks Jonathan how Joyce is holding up. The boy straightens up, but grabs your hand to steady himself, and responds as best as he can. He explains the lights, the letters on the wall, everything.

“She’s had anxiety problems in the past, but this…? I don’t know.” He takes a shaky breath, and you draw reassuring patterns on the back of his hand. “I’m worried it could be… god, I don’t know.”

“She’s grieving,” you remind him, and he nods.

“Yeah, she’s grieving, but she’ll be okay. We’ll be okay; my mom, she’s tough.”

“Like Spider-Man,” you say, though you don’t really mean to. You’re tired and the words just slip out, but Jonathan begins to laugh.

“Yeah, like Spider-Man, you’re right. Thanks, bug.”

“Anytime, bee.”

Jonathan smiles at you, still softly laughing, and it’s then that you realize. He hasn’t laughed in days, he’s hardly even smiled, and yet here he is, smiling at the stupid nickname you gave him and laughing at the stupid joke you didn’t even mean to say; you realize you’d do anything to get him to laugh again, to give you that smile that he’s only ever reserved for you. He squeezes your hand and his eyes shine for a moment with a familiar warmness that has always made you weak.

It hits you like a cold, cruel wave on a harsh winter day.

You’re in love with Jonathan.

Fuck.

It’s horrible timing, and you feel sick with guilt for realizing that you love your best friend merely hours after his brother has died, but now it’s all you can think about.

You love him, you love him more than you’ve ever loved anything before, but you can’t tell him. It wouldn’t be fair, and you don’t have the time.

You’re thankful when Hopper begins to talk again, reiterating that Joyce is tough, so that you have the time to process your newfound feelings.

Then Joyce comes crashing through the door, screaming about how whatever is in the other room isn’t Will, ignoring everyone who tells her to calm down. Both you and Jonathan stand up to calm her down, your comic dropping to the ground in the process, but she doesn’t listen and instead runs outside.

“Mom!” Jonathan follows after her.

You sigh and tuck your hair behind your ears before picking up the comic. You know that Jonathan needs to be alone with Joyce right now, give them some privacy, it’s a personal matter. More personal than anything else, and yet you also selfishly don’t want to be near him for a few moments so you can collect yourself as well.

As you’re gathering your things, Hopper clears his throat.

“Do you love him?”

You freeze, having not expected such a personal question. You’ve only just realized your feelings for him, how the hell has Hopper already figured it out? “What does it matter? His brother is dead and his mom is losing it.”

Hopper rubs his hand over his face, giving you a warning look. “But do you love the kid?”

It’s the way he says it, like it means life or death, that has you respond, “I do.”

“Take care of him, then.” He looks you in the eyes as he says it, urging you to understand the weight of his words, and you do.

You’ve heard about how his daughter had died and his wife divorced him soon after. They’d only ever been rumors to you, but now you know that they’re true. He’s telling you to take care of Jonathan, that your love for him means that you have to take care of him in a way that no one else can.

In a way, you suppose that you and Hopper aren’t so different after all, and you gain a new sense of respect for the man.

You swallow deeply and nod at him before excusing yourself to follow after Jonathan and Joyce.

–

The mother and son in question are a few blocks down the street, Joyce waving her son away as he follows her with the car.

You sigh.

This day definitely sucks.

Running up to them is a pain in the ass, honestly. You get that you gave them some privacy, but damn. Did Jonathan seriously have to take the car as well?

When you finally catch up, he’s parking. “Hey, what are you-”

He doesn’t spare you a glance as he turns the engine off and runs after his mom.

“Seriously?” You groan, clutching at a stitch in your side from running. Usually you’re a great runner, actually choosing to go for a run whenever you’re particularly stressed out or anxious. However with the shitshow that this week has been, you haven’t gone on your morning run in a while and you’re starting to feel the effects of being out of practice.

Joyce, being surprisingly fast, is hard to catch up with, but you do your best as Jonathan sprints ahead of you. When he finally reaches her, he grabs at her jacket with a determined look in his eyes.

You hang back, now regretting the fact that you left the coroner’s office in the first place.

“Mom, stop!”

“Just go home, Jonathan.”

“No, this is not an okay time for you to shut down.”

“Shut down… what-” The confusion in Joyce’s eyes is enough to make you feel Jonathan’s frustration as well. You feel for the woman, you really do, but she has another son to worry about. Jonathan is still here, he’s lost his own baby brother, he needs his mom now more than ever.

But Joyce, too lost in her own grief and desperation, can’t see that.

“We have to deal with this, mom. We have to deal with the funeral!” You’ve never heard Jonathan raise his voice at his mom before, but after days of begging for her attention, you’re proud of him for defending himself.

The word “funeral” seems to snap Joyce out of her daze and once again she goes on her tangent about how Will’s body isn’t really back at the morgue, that he’s still alive, and Jonathan’s anger in his voice makes you ache.

As he and his mom continue to yell at one another, a few nosy people in the town area stand and watch. They whisper to each other, no doubt about how Will’s death has made Joyce Byers crazy, and you kick a few rocks at them.

“Fuck off! At least pretend that you aren’t a bunch of nosy assholes like most decent people do.” A woman sneers at you, but you wave your arms above your head, “Oh! Scary! Get fucked!”

Eventually they do as they’re told and walk away from the screaming mother and son, which pleases you.

You really hope that random lady wasn’t a patron of Bookstrordinary though.

“Yeah, well, while you’re talking to the lights, Y/N and I will be planning a funeral for Will!” Jonathan’s voice is laced with bitterness as he screams at his mother, breaking your heart even more. “I’m not letting him sit in that freezer another day!”

Joyce storms off, but you notice that her shoulders shake with tears as she leaves.

It’s such a devastating situation, and while you’re also frustrated with the way she’s been treating Jonathan, you also know that maybe her craziness isn’t exactly “crazy”. El is still out there, even if you’re not sure where, and you think about how she was able to control the comic book and the game pieces. The static electricity you felt in the air when she used her powers, the same static you felt at the Byers’ home a few nights ago when Joyce came running outside with the lights flashing and Will’s song playing on the radio.

But then you think about how El promised that Will was alive.

He isn’t; you see his dead body every time you close your eyes.

So really, what is there to believe?

Lost in thought, you don’t notice Jonathan walking towards you until he grasps at your arm and flings you along back to the car with him. He’s breathing heavily and you notice that he’s shaking. He’s in no condition to drive.

As you near the car you quickly reach around and grab his keys from his pocket before running over to the driver’s side and throwing yourself into the seat. Jonathan hates when you drive the car, not because you’re a bad driver, but because some part of him truly believes it’s impolite to make a girl drive.

As cute as you think his chivalry is, today you couldn’t give more of a damn.

Jonathan stands outside your door. “Y/N-”

“Nope, no time to argue, Byers. Get in.”

“But-”

“In.”

He does as he’s told, albeit with some attitude, but eventually the two of you are off. Without having to ask, you drive to the local funeral home. While you and Jonathan are similar in many ways, the one thing that pulls you together is planning. You both cling onto the stability that planning provides, and right now Jonathan is clinging onto his responsibilities for Will’s funeral.

Like he told his mom earlier, you and him have a funeral to plan.

The funeral home is closer to the edge of Hawkins, so the drive is a longer one. Along the way Jonathan slowly begins to calm down, untensing his shoulders and releasing his clenched jaw. You let him take all the time he needs, thankful that for now you have some time to yourself to reflect over today’s revelation.

You love Jonathan.

Those three words are heavy within your chest, and you almost don’t want to think about them, but you know that sooner or later you’ll have to. You glance at Jonathan, the late fall sun casts a warm glow on his face that for a brief moment brings back the boy you knew only a week ago, before everything changed. Then he turns to face you and you see the red in his eyes, his cheeks sunken in, and you know that you don’t have the time to unravel whatever you feel for him.

He needs his best friend right now.

Jonathan’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, his voice cracking a bit from disuse. “Can we talk about yesterday?”

You cast him a quick glance. “Yesterday?”

“Our… our fight, I guess.”

“Oh,” you shift your hands on the steering wheel, now suddenly painfully aware of the silence within the car. “We don’t have to right now, bee. We should be focusing on the funeral arrangements.”

Your voice catches on the word “funeral”, it still hasn’t sunk in yet that Will is really gone.

“Bug, for the past eighteen hours all I’ve been thinking about is Will,” he takes a shaky breath and you gently place a hand on his, encouraging him to keep talking, “but when I’m not thinking about him… I’m thinking about you and what-what you said yesterday.”

“I said a lot yesterday-”

Jonathan gives you a pleading look. “Please just let me get this out, okay?”

You purse your lips but remain silent.

“I will never, ever deserve you. This week and my actions have proven that. This isn’t some pathetic attempt to make you pity me, I was an asshole to you and I recognize that. You love people in a way that terrifies me, Y/N. You’re my best friend and I think I would actually die if I ever lost you.”

A snort escapes your lips, “you probably would.”

“I definitely would, but this isn’t about me. I’m so, so sorry for how I’ve been treating you lately and the fact that you’re driving me to a funeral home after watching my mom have a meltdown in the town square without even batting an eye is all the more proof that you’re too good for me.”

“I wouldn’t say too good, but yeah. Close enough.”

“It’s more than enough, bug. That’s what terrifies me: I’m afraid that I’ll never be able to repay you for all that you’ve done for me, even before Will disappeared; you’ve been taking care of me since we were twelve.”

His words hang in the air as you allow them to wash over you. There’s so much you want to disagree with, namely the fact that he doesn't deserve you, but you know that he wouldn’t want to hear your arguments.

Again you think about how similar the two of you are, and while you both give your all to the people that you love, your love comes freely while Jonathan has grown up believing that it comes with conditions. It’s never been a problem in your relationship until now, but you guess with how much you’ve been overcompensating for everything, the need to return it all has caught up with him.

Finally, you speak. “You feel that you can’t accept my help because I’ve already done enough for you. Is that it?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan takes a deep breath. “I know it’s stupid, especially because I’m asking for your help right now with the funeral preparations, but…”

“I understand, but we’ll get through it,” you pull into the funeral home parking lot and turn the car off. “We always do, right?”

“Right,” Jonathan’s smile is a weak one, but you accept it nonetheless.

“Now, you ready to go look at children’s coffins like real men and women do?”

He laughs at your poor attempt at a joke, but even he can admit that objectively the entire situation is morbid. “Only real best friends go coffin shopping together.”

“My thoughts exactly, good sir.” Then, before you forget, you reach over and whack Jonathan’s head with the back of your hand.

“Ow! What was that for?”

You shrug your shoulders, “ask Nancy.”

And with that, you unbuckle your seatbelt and head into the funeral home, trusting that Jonathan will follow eventually enough. Things aren’t exactly the same between the two of you, especially with your newfound feelings for him, but it’s a start.

“I deserved that,” you hear Jonathan grumble, which makes you smile.

You’ll take whatever you can get.

–

You spot Nancy before Jonathan does.

It wasn’t intentional, really, but the funeral home director was droning on and on about the different wood selections for coffins and finishes that you can customize and it all makes you want to throw up; the coffins before you are so small, you weren't really paying attention in the first place.

She stands in the doorway and motions for you to get Jonathan’s attention, who is deeply focused on everything the old man is saying. A part of you wants to ignore the girl, but the scared look on her face tells you that this is something serious.

You nudge your shoulder against Jonathan’s and point at Nancy; he excuses the two of you as you walk towards her.

Jonathan shoves his hands in his pockets, a bit guarded. “Hey,”

“Hey, your mom, um… said you’d be here.”

“You talked to Mrs. Byers?” You ask, feeling a sudden possessiveness over the woman. Sure, you were kind of okay sharing Jonathan with Nancy so long as she was with Harrington, but Joyce? She’s like a second mother to you.

It made you uneasy that Joyce even talked to her in the first place.

Nancy tilts her head at you. “Yeah, it was only for a brief moment though. She seemed pretty… distracted.”

“No shit. Her son died, Nancy.”

The girl flinches a bit at your tone, which causes Jonathan to yank at your sleeve and shove you behind him. “Ignore her, we’ve had… Well, it’s been a long day.”

You feel your shoulders drop and unclench your fists. “Sorry, is everything okay? Is it the boys?”

“No, they’re fine, I just,” Nancy’s eyes shoot towards you, uncertain, before directing them towards Jonathan. “Can we talk for a second?”

The photos Nancy shows you makes your blood run cold. They start with Barb sitting alone by the pool, but slowly she pulls out more and more pieces of the torn picture to create a terrifying image with a shadow-like figure looming over her friend.

Jonathan tries to sum the shadow up to lens distortion, but you know that he’s wrong. Nancy asks more questions, trying to figure out exactly what has happened to Barb, but all you can think about is El.

You check the time on your watch and curse. It’s late afternoon now, you’ve been gone with Jonathan since early this morning. Dustin hadn’t been in his room when you left and you stupidly assumed that he’d gone off to school. Now, seeing the picture of Barb and that thing… Something is so goddamn wrong.

“The cops think that she ran away,” Nancy says.

“Just like they did with Will,” you’re whispering more to yourself than to them, but Jonathan hears you anyway.

“Maybe she did run away-”

Nancy shakes her head. “No, she wouldn’t do that. They don’t know Barb. When I went back to Steve’s… I thought I saw something.”

Your head shoots up. “Nancy, what did you see?”

“Some weird man,” the urgence in your voice confuses the girl, but you silently push her to keep talking, “or… I don’t know what it was.”

Both you and Jonathan are quiet afterwards for very different reasons.

He’s quiet because he probably thinks Nancy is crazy, just like his mom.

You’re quiet because you’re currently afraid you’ve accidentally left your idiotic brother and his friends and El alone with very real monsters and possible bad men. The figure Nancy saw… El being terrified of bad people finding and hurting her…

Well shit.

“I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t have come here today-”

You stop Nancy from leaving. “No, you should stay… I think,” you look at Jonathan, nervous for how he may react to what you’re about to say. “I think I might have an idea of what you saw last night. A lot has happened since Will disappeared, things that I’m still trying to understand, but I think I know where to start finding an explanation.”

Jonathan turns to you. “What? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Technically I did try telling you a few nights ago but then you yelled at me and threw a jacket at my face-”

“You threw a jacket at Y/N?” Nancy asks, which you and Jonathan ignore.

“But for now I can’t tell you anything else. I made a promise, and I’m not sure I’m right or even sane for considering it an explanation, but we need to leave. Now.”

“A promise? To who?” There’s an edge of hurt in Jonathan’s voice and you desperately wish you could explain more to him, but now isn’t the time. Not with Nancy sitting between you two and her own brother involved. You don’t want to cause any unnecessary worry for her; right now she needs to focus on Barb. You’ll wrangle in the boys, it’s your fault they’re even alone right now with El.

“I can’t exactly say who, but just trust me, okay? Again: I really hope I’m just insane and worried about nothing and that this will all be an embarrassing laugh for us later.”

“Y/N-”

“Jonathan, we need to go.”

“‘We’?” Nancy now speaks up, seemingly fed up by your vague exchange with Jonathan.

You try to collect yourself and pretend like you have some amazing plan. “Yes, we. Jonathan will take you to the photo developing room at school and see if you can make the pictures clearer. On the way there, he’ll drop me off at home so I can grab my bike and head out.”

“And what will you be doing?” The boy asks.

“Tracking down my brother, unfortunately.”

He gives you a doubtful look. “C’mon, you can’t expect me to just let you run off on your own without more of an explanation.”

You know he’s right, but you just… you can’t tell him about El and the bad men yet. You can’t. Not until you know for sure what the hell is happening.

“I’m sure it’s nothing… but just in case, I really need to find Dustin, okay?”

I’m a really, really bad babysitter, you think.

Jonathan opens his mouth again as if to argue, but you hold your hand up to silence him. You really don’t want to waste time fighting with him. He has to trust you on this, whether he likes it or not.

He sighs with defeat, “Just be safe, please.”

You also really don’t want to put anyone else in danger. It’s bad enough that you allowed the boys to get dragged into this mess, but you refuse to drag your best friend in as well. But really, who knows? Maybe you’re just a regular idiot who believes in fairy tales and monsters, not some idiot who leaves three overly naive boys alone with a girl with superpowers.

God you hope you’re just a regular idiot.

However, if Joyce believes that Will is alive, even without the knowledge of El and her powers, then you’re sure that the boys also believe he’s alive and will inevitably go looking for him again. Alone. In the same woods Nancy saw that strange figure.

You cast those thoughts out of your head and give Jonathan what you hope is a reassuring smile. “When am I not safe?”

You really, truly hope that you’re just an idiot, but if the photos that you just saw scare you. Before he can change his mind, you quickly reach over and snatch Jonathan’s keys from his jacket and give him a peck on the cheek before running out to his car.

“I call shotgun, Nancy!”

–

Unsurprisingly, the drive with Nancy and Jonathan is an awkward one. Things are still a bit tense between you and him for reasons you’re not sure you can tell him about just yet, and now Nancy is in the backseat trying not to make any sound, so really it was a doomed car ride from the start.

It’s not that you don’t like the girl, but there’s something about the way she acts around Jonathan that honestly makes you want to collapse. You know she’s with Harrington, but the tenderness Jonathan has shown her the few times they’ve interacted makes you uneasy.

Yesterday you chalked the uneasiness to simply never sharing Jonathan before, but now you know the truth.

You’re jealous because you’re in love with him.

It’s a nauseating feeling.

“So, how long have the two of you been friends?” Nancy’s question surprises you, mostly because she should already know the answer. You know she’s just trying to make conversation, but the question itself further reminds you of why the two of you had drifted apart in the first place.

“I moved here when I was twelve, remember? Your family helped us move in.”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” You see Nancy nervously playing with her fingers in the rearview mirror, which makes you feel bad. She’s trying, you know she is.

“It’s fine,” you try to catch her eye, and when you do you give her a smile. “I know you probably don’t remember much from that day. It was the middle of the school year and our brothers immediately started being annoying together, so you had gone inside after only a couple minutes.”

Nancy laughs, now remembering that day. “Didn’t Mike hold an initiation for Dustin that night?”

“Yeah,” you laugh with her now. “That’s actually how Jonathan and I met. Remember, bee?”

Jonathan’s smile is a soft one, a smile that makes you feel weak because you know you’re the reason it’s there. “Of course I do. We both showed up at the Wheeler’s house at the same time to pick up our brothers.”

“And then-”

“I answered the door.” Nancy finishes for you.

“Yup. Ever since then, Jonathan hasn’t been able to get rid of me.”

“It’s been horrible,” he says with a monotone voice, but it’s clear to everyone that he’s joking.

You punch his shoulder. “You weren’t complaining when I saved you from those bullies later that week.”

Jonathan gives you a pointed look and tries to subtly motion towards Nancy, clearly embarrassed that you've brought the bullies up in front of her. Like he wants her to think he’s someone cooler than he really is.

Your smile vanishes.

He wants to impress her.

“Right, sorry,” you clear your throat and if Nancy notices your sudden mood change, she doesn’t say anything. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment and remind yourself that what matters right now are the boys and El. They should be your priority, not petty boy drama.

Luckily Jonathan pulls into your driveway not long after the abrupt conversation ending, which you’re thankful for.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face Nancy, and it takes everything in you to force a smile on your face. “Alright, well, this is my stop! Nancy, I’m trusting you to tell me whatever you and Jonathan find. I’d ask him to keep me updated, but I know he’ll inevitably forget.”

The girl nods at you. “You can trust me.”

Can I?

Although you’re not exactly sure what it is that you don’t think you can trust her with. Then, your eyes drift to Jonathan and the way he’s staring at her from his own mirror, and you realize that maybe she’s not the one you should be worried about.

“Good,” you turn to Jonathan now. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“And I’ll answer… probably.”

“You’re so sweet to me.”

“I know, right?”

You snort at the boy and wave goodbye to him and Nancy before getting out of the car. Your bike is in the shed, so you motion to Jonathan that he’s good to leave. When he’s sure you’re okay, he waves at you one last time and drives away.

It feels like you’ve made a huge mistake as you watch Jonathan and Nancy leave, but you don’t have time to think about why. Dustin’s bike isn’t in the shed alongside yours, which you expected, and you have to find him.

Your brother and his idiotic friends need you right now.

–

For the second time within a week, Steve Harrington almost kills you with his stupid BMW. Granted, the first time wasn’t necessarily his fault due to your crying, but this time just felt personal.

“Henderson!”

“Jesus christ-” You’re biking to the Wheeler’s, lost in thought as the sun begins to set, when stupid Harrington scares the shit out of you.

His unexpected shouting from the other side of the road causes you to swerve your bike towards his car and he has to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting you.

“Do you, like, have a fantasy about me hitting you with my car?”

You glare at the boy. “You are a man, I am a woman. It’s getting dark outside. What exactly made you think it’s a good idea to yell out at me?”

“Well, I mean, I called after you.” He says, so matter of factly that it makes you want to strangle him.

You hate him. You really do.

A strand of hair has fallen in your face, so you blow it away before bothering to answer. “My apologies, you called after me and almost killed me in the process.”

Steve winks at you. “Apology accepted.”

You stare at him, unamused and still in the middle of the damn road, and after a couple beats of silence you cock your head at the boy. “Are you going to tell me what you need or…?”

“Oh,” Steve coughs, as if startled by your question. “Honestly I didn’t really have a plan when I called after you. I just kinda did, so…”

“Right, well.” You clench your jaw in annoyance. Why are you even surprised that Harrington has wasted your time? “This was fun, let’s never do it again sometime!”

You ride off on your bike, trying to quickly get up the hill so that you can get to the Wheeler’s before it gets too dark to see. The hill is brutal and it’s almost embarrassing how long it’s taking you to get up it, and as you’re huffing and dripping in sweat, headlights come up from behind you.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you groan.

Steve’s car is now right next to you, the fucker having done a complete u-turn to follow after you. His window is still rolled down and he has one hand on the steering wheel and the other hanging out his window.

“Hello again, Henderson.”

“I never said hello back to you.”

“C’mon, at least pretend to be happy to see me.”

You let out another groan as you continue to struggle up the hill. “I physically cannot do that, sorry.”

Steve, ever the comedian, responds, “It doesn’t seem like you can physically get up this hill either.”

You don’t give him the satisfaction of laughing, but you’re a bit annoyed that his quip was funny. What a jackass, honestly.

“Henderson,” your silence doesn’t deter the boy, “just get in the damn car already.”

Once again you almost crash into the BMW, this time because of your complete shock at his request.

“What?”

He gives you a look as if you’re the insane one in this situation. “You’re sweatier than I am after basketball, and at the rate you’re going I’d say you’ll reach your destination in about three to five business days.”

You stare at him, speechless.

He stares back at you with a smirk on his smug little face, knowing that he’s won the argument. “Get in the car and I’ll throw your bike in the back.”

You do as he says, your mind completely blank and still taken aback. Sweatier than him after basketball? There’s no way that’s true, and also who says that to someone they barely even know? As if you’re really that sweaty-

You see your reflection in his car mirror and wince.

Okay, so maybe you’re a little sweaty.

Fuck Steve Harrington.

The boy in question tosses your bike in the trunk as you hesitantly get in the car. He watches as you sit yourself down and laughs. “It’s a car, Henderson. It won’t bite.”

“Yeah, but you might.” You slap a hand over your mouth, embarrassed by the implications of your words.

Steve raises an eyebrow at you as he turns the car back on. “Careful there, last I checked you’re a taken lady.”

The embarrassment you previously felt is gone, now replaced with your usual annoyance when it comes to Steve. You think about what he did yesterday to Jonathan’s camera, the cruelty in his eyes as he watched the thing shatter onto the ground. He didn’t show any remorse, and while you understand that he had been defending his girlfriend, he had taken it too far.

“How many times do I have to tell you that Jonathan and I are just friends?”

“Please,” Steve huffs with amusement, “the two of you have been inseparable for years. Besides, no way a guy like Byers can just be friends with a girl like you. Not scientifically possible.”

You wrinkle your nose. “What’s ‘a girl like you’ supposed to mean?” Then another thought occurs to you, “Also, you didn’t even know my name until this week, so don’t go acting like you know my relationship with Jonathan.”

“Relax, Henderson. It was a compliment. All I meant is that you’re decently pretty, all things considered, so I wouldn’t blame Byers if he was in love with you. It’s human nature.”

“Okay, that’s just really sexist-”

“As for knowing your name only this week, you’re wrong.”

“I’m sorry?” You ask, confused.

Steve places a hand over his chest, almost as if he’s reaching for his heart. “Apology accepted, it means a lot to me.”

“Ugh,” you scoff at him. “That wasn’t an apology and you know it. Can you just take me to the Wheeler’s, please?”

“Woah, slow down there. First I need you to tell me why you thought I didn’t know your name, then I’ll take you to my girlfriend’s house. Free of charge.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that you see some offense in Steve’s eyes for thinking he only recently learned your name, but why would he care? Besides, you know he’s never paid any attention to you before this week.

“It was literally this week that I had to tell you my name after you almost hit me with your car, Harrington.”

“Okay, hey,” the boy holds a finger up. “Actually, you almost hit me with your bike because you were too busy hysterically sobbing.”

He’s right, but you won’t tell him that. Minor details, honestly. You’re about to tell him as much before you realize what he’s said. “Wait, you knew I had been crying?”

Steve gives you a well, duh look. “Yeah, that’s why I pretended not to know your name. Figured you wouldn’t want to talk about it and the least I could do was make you laugh. And viola, I did.”

He had willingly tried to make you laugh?

His words make you flush, which seems to only amuse him further as he chuckles at you. You wave your hand at him, now more annoyed than ever. “Okay, fine. Whatever, so you knew my name before this week, big whoop. Can you just drive now?”

“I’ll take that as an ‘I’m sorry Steve for assuming you’re an asshole who hadn’t noticed a girl you’ve known since you were thirteen’, then.” Steve takes the car out of park and begins to drive to the Wheeler’s which you’re relieved by.

You feel uncomfortably warm after that conversation, regardless of the fact that you’re still overheated from your biking. There’s no way that Steve has seriously known about you since you were twelve and he was thirteen. No, you decide that he must be lying, playing up his usual boyish charm. He’s been this untouchable entity ever since you moved to Hawkins, so why would he have paid any attention to you?

Then your mind floats to his compliment, calling you “decently pretty”, but then again not even five minutes earlier he stated that you sweat more than he does after basketball, so really his words should mean nothing.

And yet, after the week you’ve had and your fight with Jonathan and Will’s death and El’s mysterious powers…

Steve’s words make you a bit giddy, embarrassingly enough. You hate that they do, because he’s Steve Harrington and he’s with Nancy who is beautiful and kind and everything you’re not. It doesn’t matter what he thinks of you.

You pick at your nails as he drives, the car silent, and you accidentally graze against the cut on your finger from yesterday. It’s scabbed over by now, but the pain is still fresh.

“I know that what Jonathan did was wrong, I won’t excuse his actions. Standing up for Nancy was the right thing to do and I admire you for it, really,” Steve spares you a glance as he drives, nodding his head slightly to indicate that he’s listening. “But breaking Jonathan’s camera wasn’t.”

He groans. “Nancy said the same thing, but what’s the big deal? The creep shouldn’t have access to a camera if he can’t use it properly.”

The slight warmth that Steve had somehow put in your chest dissipates at his words. “Jonathan isn’t a creep, but regardless of the situation, the big deal is this: not everyone can afford a fancy BMW and Raybans. Not everyone in Hawkins lives in a giant mansion with a pool. He worked so hard to afford that camera, it’s not something that he can just buy again on a whim.”

Steve shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Henderson, you know I didn’t mean it like that-”

“I know, but it was still a shitty thing to do.”

The silence that settles in the car is a heavy one, and you almost feel bad for Steve. You know he hadn’t thought about the repercussions of his actions, but you suppose that the fact that he hadn’t considered the price of a camera was proof enough of his naivety.

When you get to the Wheeler’s, Steve gets out of the car to help you with your bike. He doesn’t let you do a thing, so you stand there and awkwardly watch. You can tell that he’s trying to make up for his actions from yesterday, which you appreciate.

“Thank you,” you say once he places the bike down.

“All in a day’s work.” Steve responds, wiping his hands off on his jeans.

As he turns to leave, you stop him. “And thank you for earlier this week, ya know, for making me laugh after falling off my bike. I, uh, appreciate it.”

He seems surprised by your sincerity, but he smiles. “Again: all in a day’s work. And listen, I’m sorry about Byers’ camera,” Then he quickly adds, as if afraid he won’t have the nerve to later, “I’m sorry about Will, too. I figure you were close with him and now he’s…”

His words trail off, not wanting to say the word “dead”, which you can’t blame him for.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a bad person.” Steve turns to face you now, your words catching his undivided attention. “You just have the worst taste in friends, but when you aren’t around them… I guess you’re alright.”

He laughs a bit, but there’s a certain emotion in his eyes that you can’t quite name; you have to stop yourself from leaning in closer to him. Suddenly the space between you feels too close and you take a step back, but as you move you feel Steve’s hand ruffle your hair. “I guess you’re ‘alright’ too, Henderson.”

You watch as he leaves, standing in the Wheeler’s driveway for longer than necessary. You place your hand on your head and find yourself smiling, the warmth of his touch still faintly there.

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#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #hey what happens in this chapter ? everything #the answer is everything

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weebsinstash · 5 months

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Can you make pretty please write some yandere thragg headcannons

Sure can! (Also some minor spoilers with a like more mild spoiler that's in an image so like, it's censored but poorly so, yeah just a warning!)

- first and foremost to give some very minor future spoilers, there is something you have to understand: even by Viltrumite standards Thragg is considered Way Too Hardcore and there are men like Conquest who are even worse, more shortsighted, and bloodthirstier than him. There ARE Viltrumites who think their society is way too unfeeling and heartless and they DO want to love and be normal and have loving families but this is a... a society with an ancient culture with traditions that are being upheld by force that keep the general Viltrumite populace living in misery and Thragg is a huge enforcer of this unhappy lifestyle. Like shit in one of the newest episodes of Invincible a bunch of Viltrumites rocked up to Mark and beat the absolute shit out of him and Kregg (eyepatch guy) was like "yeah you survived getting the shit beat out of you which proves you're strong and worthy of your viltrumire heritage, so I'm drafting you into the Viltrum army, do what we say or we'll beat the shit out of you" AND THATS ONE OF THE GOOD VILTRUMITES. Like literally Viltrum society is terrifying and once you start learning the lengths with which they enforce their beliefs and rules you'll see why Nolan was like, trying to force Mark to be like him; you resist and they DEMOLISH YOU. Nolan was and still is TERRIFIED of Viltrum and rightfully so

- a yandere thragg is quite literally a character who does not know affection or how to display or receive it in any way whatsoever because his entrenchment in the "traditional viltrumite mindset" and his own greed for power and absolute control makes him incredibly impersonal. Like I'm serious even with the like magical yandere cooties that make him finally understand what love or obsession is, he will literally have to learn the ropes of caring for you as another person and this is a man who has been taught empathy and kindness make you weak so like. Yeah. Like we're talking about a guy who at some point is gonna watch his hybrid children literally splatter as he throws them, literally throws them, at enemies too strong for them and then blames his kids for not being stronger, like. Thragg is a monster and there's no ifs ands or buts about it

-the most romantic this man can come up with is walking straight up to you and telling you "I want to mate" to your face and having gifts made for you from planets he's conquered or things he's killed and that's the best he's got. He doesn't understand the more emotional psychological side of love but he at least understands that sex is something mates do and that it's a bonding experience between you and him and it's a physical pleasure, vulnerability thing. Mated animals have sex and human mates have sex so the two of you are going to have sex alright? He also won't admit it but like. Holding you after sex or letting you rest against him afterwards is the closest you'll get to cuddling because like. He's not gonna ask to cuddle with you just for the sake of cuddling. And even if he ever wanted to (the desire grows with time lol), he would just sit down beside you and pull you into his lap, he wouldn't ask your permission

-like seriously you'll be in bed and it's like 2 am and you'll be woken up by him suddenly rolling you over without any sort of warning, "i want to mate" and that's just. It. You get to lie there as he folds you like a pretzel

-this man fucks just to cum and I think the only way he could be a good lover is if he's big with stamina and you'll reach orgasm through sheer overstimulation and time dedicated because, you want me to believe this man knows foreplay? You think Thragg can eat ass? Please. I feel like in the depths of. Yandereness he would develop a taste for giving oral but like I'm, I'm pretty positive you would be the first ever person he's done that to

- thragg showing affection is like. You're taken along with him to where he works and you walk into the room and he's just absolutely soaked in blood and there's some sort of creature being dismantled in front of him and he turns to you, "this creature has a carapace that can be crafted into fine armor. does its color please you" "y-yes?" "Very well. We shall have a matching set ready by the evening and then we shall mate" "o-ok... thank you Grand Regent" "begone, this area is not safe for you, return to the central hall and await my return" "ok, sure, yeah... I mean, yes Grand Regent"

- yes, even as his mate you'll be calling him his title all the time, although I imagine once he starts really "softening up" he'll demand you call him his name or even "husband" and not doing so and using his title on purpose in defiance will anger him

-absolutely convinced I shit you not that Viltrumites have a duality of "their photos/shrines of you have you either looking as soft and harmless and helpless as possible or they have entire collages of you looking absolutely pissed or doing violent shit" and I'm convinced Thragg would find you being angry hot. Idk. I feel like it's entirely contextual. You give HIM too much lip, he may have to physically punish you, but maybe you get furious at someone else and start tearing into them, even wanting to fight? Obviously depending on context he'll encourage you to tear that person to shreds

- I'm stuck on whether he's a "will watch you get your ass beaten because he wants you to toughen up/fight your own fights" or "if anyone scratches you they're paste" kind of guys. Like can you imagine some, tenured centuries old Viltrumite manages to just absolute piss you off and you're yelling and screaming and swinging on them (maybe you're a human, hybrid, Viltrumite yourself, whatever) and they're just. Forced to stand there and take it. Because the SECOND they so much as GRAB YOU, there's the Grand Regent to absolutely beat their ass. You could almost kill them and Thragg is like goading you on but if they BRUISE YOU like, that's it, it's so one-sided

-I'm just saying, like. Nolan literally used Mark to tear apart an entire subway car of people and was casually offing humans left and right because his status as an almost immortal alien has made him kind of indifferent to other forms of life so like. What the fuck would Thragg do to a Reader who just got their powers and didn't want to work for the Empire or be part of it or even be around him. You cannot convince me this man wouldn't kill so many people directly in front of you. Or even just as a human yourself. Imagine him just tearing through tons of other people because he's trying to scare you onto line. I mean. Nolan was literally ripping people's heads and faces off and tearing out chunks of their body with their bare hands. These people casually break each other's bones and CAN SURVIVE DISEMBOWLING EACH OTHER like. You cannot tell me Thragg wouldn't just literally tear a human in half right in front of you like a kid with a butterfly.

- Thragg is absolutely on that "goes from being extremely distant and nonverbal to all but spending every second of the day with you and gets agitated if you're in a different room for too long" yandere pipeline. This man goes from not knowing how to properly hold a conversation with you to Oh My God If You Don't Sit In My Lap During My War Council Meeting I Will Be SUCH A Bitch About It

Can we like. Can we like talk about THIS

Did he like. Did HE decide this. Is this a Thraxan custom without his input amd this is just a thing the monarch gets. I mean. Comic readers know this man gets MAD pussy for the sake of breeding but like. Is this HIS harem. Did HE build this. Did he tell them to dress like this or is this a Thraxan tradition and he's just like so unbothered by the ass and tiddies. Is this just so people can tell these are His Designated Hoes. Like. Is he secretly being horny on main and pretending he's not a perv or was this done for him and he's just like meh. Yandere Thragg who absolutely HAS to dress you up in custom Viltrum wear or armor or cloaks that match his own, like literally him decking you in armor or like a nicely padded flightsuit is like his version of, giving you lingerie or publicly marking you idk. Like is seeing you covered in sweat and blood just as hot as a normal person would find like, nudes. Lmao

- LASTLY I'm sorry long post. I know I said something conflicting earlier in a different context but. Oh my gosh this man would be THE WORST but also dedicated yandere father. Oh my fucking god. Helicopter parent. Let's just say if you're shooting the shots, you can impregnate as many creatures as you want but if you're the one capable of being pregnant he doesn't want to let you do SHIT because he doesn't want his baby carrying inferior spawn or having a risky pregnancy. Like seriously you could be his son and fucking like as many fucked up weird looking aliens and impregnating all the chicks you want and Thragg doesn't care, and as his daughter it's "father when will I be allowed to date, I came of age over a century ago" "quiet, I have yet to find a suitable mate for you, just continue being obedient and accompany me on this mission" "yes father...."

I can't even imagine like. Being his kid and being powerless, or like temporarily powerless. You have one of those manhwa level neglected childhoods and you grow into a depressed husk and suddenly your powers appear and you're naturally gifted and like above average in everything and Thragg wants to suddenly bond with you and you just look right through him like you wouldn't care if he suddenly dropped dead right in front of you. Someone disrespected you and you just take it because you still remember running up to your father as a child and being shoved away amd he literally doesn't even understand why you have no respect for yourself so he then tries to smother you to make up for lost time

Idk. I'm caught between multiple ideas because I like the idea of Thragg going "oh so you're fragile and powerless? You're literally never leaving my side ever again, if something wants to harm you they'll have to kill me first" and this extends to you just having no life of your own. Maybe he forces you to be a clerk or something for him, papers and desk work and whatnot, something that keeps you safe and close and if you get so much as a sniffle there's an entire array of royal doctors to treat you

That being said, daughter, son, wife, husband, partner, whatever, you're not getting away from this guy. The only things capable of hurting him are essentially alien technology, Viltrumite strength, being a species stronger than a Viltrumite, magic, like... he's invulnerable, he's invincible, he's way too strong, way too fast, and way too mean. He'll keep you on your toes and he'll casually pop heads in front of you like it's talking about the weather if it keeps you in line. If he wants you to be his soldier, you'll be his soldier. If he wants you to be his personal guard, you will be. His mate? No objections need be considered. He's always taken what he wants - that's how he was raised and what his society encourages - and that means acquiring you and absorbing you into his life is no different

#yandere x reader #yandere invincible #sinprompts #yandere stuff

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comradekatara · 2 months

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Okay either Mako/that dumb fucking prince, or. Bolin/Korra?

LMFAO I think ive already explained at length why I hate that ship and character generally and the utter tragedy of saddling him onto my poor boy mako (just go into my wu tag) but bolin and korra is not a ship i’ve ever talked about and I do actually find it fascinating. not because I necessarily think that they’d make a good couple, but because of the way in which bolin’s character assassination happened in the same episode that they established him as a contender in the love triangle, and then seemed to immediately realize that two (extremely codependent) brothers fighting over a girl is kind of weird and thus desexualized bolin (at least for the rest of the season) by lobotomizing him.

in the first couple episodes, bolin is actually quite charming and grounded, but you wouldn’t know that from watching the rest of the show, because from the moment he goes on a date with korra forward, they only afford him the mental capacity of a five year old. like, I think that mako is supposed to be the book smart sibling and bolin is the street smart sibling, but bolin is actually unfathomably naive and foolish, and mako is just. both book and street smart. so it’s like. okay. well what is bolin doing here.

remember when he used to be someone with a brain and actual charm? no because his brain slipped through his ears after going on one single date with korra. a date that went spectacularly well, I might add. they never actually give us a reason to believe that korra would sooner have feelings for mako than bolin. all she and mako do is argue, while she and bolin have a lot in common and good chemistry. obviously i’m a korrasami truther, but like. what they did to bolin to justify makorra is just strange. this is what I mean when I say that lok has some of the clumsiest writing i’ve ever seen.

but also, I will say this: it’s very funny to me that bolin is into korra (definitely understandable) but never asami (the most beautiful woman alive). like mako is very understandably into both of them because who wouldn’t be. well, bolin wouldn’t be. because he’s only into brown girls. amen

#ephemeral-phosphorescence #asks #bolin #korra #mako #lok crit #they literally lobotomized him so that mako could fumble two gorgeous girls 😭 mess

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bird-inacage · 6 months

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Only Friends Finale: Ray & Sand vs Boeing

Admittedly it's taken me a few days to unpack the resolution to the Boeing conflict (aka final boss arc), how Ray and Sand went about this, and how they came out of it unscathed as a couple. There’s a fair bit to cover here so hang in there folks - this is a long one.

Sand's Uncertainty: Questioning the Present or Tributing the Past?

I can see why people had grievances about Sand not being more assertive, why he allowed Boeing to kiss him, why he wasn't definitive when Ray accused him of still having feelings for Boeing if he did not.

The scene in which Sand apologises to Ray briefly touches on this but doesn’t really convey the extent of it. By Sand's own admission, it is hugely difficult to be confronted by someone you used to love, especially a first love. Sand had planned his hopes, dreams and future with Boeing very much in the picture. Boeing's sudden return brought that all back and the lack of closure that came with it. Sand’s hesitancy to act is not due to a resurgence of his feelings from back then, but rather the nostalgia and sentimentality attached to this chapter of his life. Boeing very knowingly plays on this too.

During the pool scene, Sand hasn't made this distinction yet, and is generally lacking clarity on what exactly he feels for Boeing. So when Ray suggests they kiss to find out, Sand does question himself. The 'what if' from his past makes him wonder; an open-ended question he never got an answer to. 'What if Boeing came back to me?' But indulging in such a curiosity is never going to be satisfactory because the circumstances are no longer the same. Time has moved on and Sand along with it.

I believe Sand was also keen to pass Ray's test. He later refers to the kiss as Ray 'challenging' him to do it. We've seen him rise to Ray's goading before, only he's never quite as assured in his execution as he thinks he is. The most obvious example being when Ray suggests they have sex first and initiate a friendship second. Sand agrees with a sense of misplaced confidence that Ray will be hung up on him, when he's promptly the one to catch feelings. As much as Sand tries to be objective, he's consistently tripped up by emotion. Boeing's return is no different. His downfall is that he cares too much.

The way Sand behaves when Boeing kisses him is extremely telling. It feels like an attempt at muscle memory, retracing something he can't quite recall anymore. He looks lost, detached, slightly thrown and overpowered in Boeing's presence. This may be residual patterns of behaviour caused by Boeing controlling the end to their relationship. This is in stark contrast to how Sand kisses Ray, which is passionate, needy, mutually engaged and eager.

Sand's inability to push back against Boeing's advances is because his judgement is coloured by their history, their shared past, the feelings he used to have for Boeing. Not by the present. In an ask I received last week, I mention that Sand's apparent leniency is out of politeness, a final act of kindness even. It's his way of saying 'I don't like what you did to me but I'm trying to be civil because I owe it to who we once were to each other.' Sand's attributing that last bit of leniency to the Boeing he used to love, not the Boeing in the here and now.

Sand doesn't like to hold grudges. If someone apologises to him sincerely, he can let it go. When Ray does this back in Episode 1, he immediately forgives him. Since Sand has now moved on, it doesn't serve any purpose to harbour animosity with Boeing or to go out of his way to actively hate him. It's a lot of wasted energy to be resentful and Sand has far better things to do. So when Boeing makes his reappearance, Sand's initial reaction is not anger. Therefore I do believe his sentiment to "let bygones be bygones", which may explain why he was willing to let a few indiscretions slide. What he didn't anticipate is that Boeing would try to manipulate him, and cause a wedge in his newfound happiness with Ray as a result. Having his final act of decency thrown back in his face was rightly the last straw for Sand, and irrefutable confirmation that he doesn't owe Boeing anything. Sand wants to continue looking forward, not back.

Ray's Ultimatum

As much as I praise Ray for being noticeably more level-headed and mature in this episode, he still falls prey to being over-zealous; boxing Sand into an highly uncomfortable and sexually charged battle between himself and Boeing. Ray initially expects Sand to take responsibility, even if Boeing is the instigator. Largely because Ray presumes what Sand is feeling. "You still love him," he claims, though Sand is yet to confirm or deny. And that is the exact genesis for Ray's concern, because he can't fathom why Sand is puzzling over what this means to him and why he can't provide an immediate answer.

The fact that Ray thinks Sand's kiss with Boeing proves he's "second string" is absurdly untrue. Anyone with eyes can see Sand is miles more passionate and responsive with Ray. "Anyone can see he wants you back," Ray echoes (ironically), which is later debunked by Mew. It just goes to show how blindsided you can be when you're in the situation itself. Ray is misinterpreting this as a 'me vs Boeing' issue but it's really not about that at all. Sand isn't trying to compare the two. Neither is he planning to make a choice between them, because that wasn't even on his radar. What Sand is unsure of is how he feels about Boeing, irrespective of Ray. He never managed to reconcile his feelings for Boeing after his betrayal.

I don't think Ray is wrong for demanding that Sand determine this. However, the man probably had emotional whiplash from seeing his ex and boyfriend in the same room together, let alone watching them aggressively make out, all in one night. Sand was hoping to deal with this on his own terms, without Ray complicating the equation. Whilst Ray proceeds to do exactly that, hastily jumping the gun in order to provoke the answers out of Sand by force.

Essentially they wanted the same result but didn't discuss it. So it’s no surprise when their separate approaches don't sit right with one another. Sand appears far too permissive and ambiguous by Ray's standards, and Ray appears far too irrational and defiant by Sand's. This is partly due to Ray feeling compelled to intervene as Sand was struggling to be decisive, but Ray is also hugely impatient by nature.

Once Mew tells Ray that Boeing is intentionally trying to rock the boat, Ray recognises this is no longer Sand's burden to resolve alone. His concerns rested on the belief that Boeing genuinely wanted Sand back, and attempts to display guilt or regret may have tugged on Sand's heartstrings, causing him to waver. But since there's no truth to this, there's no basis for Sand giving him another chance. Sand's past with Boeing is very much 'dead and buried', with Boeing being the one who put the nails in the coffin.

Mutual Respect or Ownership?

By the time Ray and Sand have their final confrontation with Boeing, they are both on level footing. They have aligned their intentions. When Ray says "he's my boyfriend", what he's saying is 'his problems are my problems'. Similarly when Boeing quips "that's up to him", Ray retorts with "that's up to me too". This is what they've learnt from their earlier run-in with Boeing. As a couple, they will stand as a united front going forward.

Ray defending Sand on his behalf does not belittle him in any way. Sand allows him to do it. You see the air of pride he has in watching Ray fight for him. Besides, Ray is merely saying what Sand is already thinking, he's just allowing him the satisfaction of hitting back at Boeing for trying to demean his position at Sand's new boyfriend. What little leniency Sand may have reserved for Boeing is now gone because he actively tried to exploit Sand's good will and patience.

This is further supported when Sand states himself as being owned by Ray (only because Boeing started the analogy of referring to him as a dog). Sand is purely making a point about his loyalty. His loyalty will be steadfast based on the sincerity of the recipient. Ray has proven himself worthy of Sand's loyalty, and that's why he's happy to let Ray take control or be more dominant at times. You can only do this with someone you truly trust.

Though declarations of ownership such as 'you're mine', 'you belong to me' can sound like there is an inherent power play, but actually the language of 'owning' someone is a more possessive way of saying 'I take responsibility for this person and their wellbeing'. If I own them and they belong to me, I will be responsible for their everything.

As Sand has generally taken the care-taker role in their relationship, Ray's way of returning this sentiment is often through this love language, "I'll handle it." "They're gonna have to deal with me." The least Ray feels he can do is to defend his boyfriend's best interests and honour if the situation ever calls for it. Sand no longer has to deal with things on his own.

#only friends #only friends the series #ofts #only friends meta #ray x sand #sand x ray #raysan #sanray #khaofirst #firstkhao #first kanaphan #khaotung thanawat #we love to see growth #i had so many thoughts to cover in this one #this is why i love them #their conflicts are very layered and complex

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lurkingshan · 1 month

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Unknown Episode 5

Oh, Yuan. Your yearning is palpable through the screen, other people in the story are starting to notice, and I can feel the pain coming.

This show is building spectacularly. I feel like I'm with Yuan as his feelings become more and more uncontrollable, with Qian feeding them unknowingly at every turn. One thing the novel did so well, and that the show is pulling off too, is showing us that Qian also feels differently about Yuan than he does about other people, even if it's mostly on a subconscious level and he would deny it if you asked. He listens to him and worries about him in a way he doesn't anyone else, and he is attuned to his feelings even if he can't always articulate why. And everyone around him can see it. Lili has long accepted that this is just the way her brothers are with each other. The office ladies (fujoshis all, as it turns out) have clicked into their dynamic.

And San Pang is actively worried and starting to interfere in their relationship, because he can see two things clearly: 1) Yuan definitely likes Qian; 2) Qian seems to feel something for him in return even if he is not aware of it. I don't think San Pang would bother to interfere if he thought Yuan's feelings were truly hopeless. It's because he can see the way Qian unconsciously relies on and returns Yuan's affections that he's worried.

I like the way the show adapted this plot line from the book. Like many things in the story, they have softened the tone of it (San Pang was a lot more homophobic about it in the novel), and San Pang in general is pretty different here. In the book he's unattractive and loud and brash, while here he's so dreamy that Lili has a crush. But it's understandable that he would be uncomfortable with the idea of Qian and Yuan's relationship becoming romantic; he has grown up with them as brothers, too, and it's an idea he just can't reconcile with how he thinks of them. Attempting to redirect Qian's attention to a "more appropriate" love interest is a logical move, and one I can forgive him for, even though it's bound to fail. I'll be curious to see what exactly he says to Yuan next week.

As for Yuan, I just feel so much for him. His feelings are leaking out at every turn; he has entirely lost his ability to mask it. I was glad he got to come out to Qian, be accepted (after some token resistance), and at least clear this one hurdle in their relationship, but you can feel his frustration at still being too young to approach Qian in the way he wants (reminder that despite what the subs claim, he is still calling him ge, not using his name when they speak). Yuan is still in school and has other obligations and important life milestones to meet before he can come to Qian as an adult partner. Having to leave for things like training camp makes him unhappy when he just wants to be around to take care of Qian. I found the office workers filling in for him on Qian caretaker duty quite sweet, and I do think Qian loves the way Yuan dotes on him even as he pretends not to need it.

I am anticipating and dreading the inevitable implosion when Qian is no longer able to ignore Yuan's feelings and consequently has to confront his own. Next week is going to be painful for both of them.

#unknown the series #taiwanese bl #shan shouts into the void

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inbarfink · 7 months

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Ever since we saw Finn and Simon’s little failed camping trip

I’ve been thinking a lot about this scene in ‘Prisoners of Love’, the very first Ice King episode in the whole show.

Because like… even this early on, long before Finn even heard the name ‘Simon Petrikov’, he already recognized that Ice King probably needs some serious help. But being a young child and a ‘simple dude’, he can’t give Ice King the help he needs - and he knows it. He just kicks his ass and rescues the princesses basically because he’s painfully aware of the limits of his emotional maturity.

And now, Finn and Simon are genuine friends and he’s actually the first person Simon really confides with about the fact that he still needs help

And while his child self was sure he couldn’t help Ice King, he’s now honestly believes (or at least wants to believe) that he can help Simon

And he tries so earnestly to help, from the bottom of his heart, and he still fails miserably and he doesn't even realize it!

On some level because he’s still that ‘simple dude’, but he actually had a better understanding of his limitations as a child than as an adult. And on some level because he has grown more complex, but in the sense that he now has a fuck-ton of his own trauma and grief that he has no idea how to handle.

And it just says so much about how far these two have come, and how much Finn grew and matured since the start of Adventure Time and how much things changed - and also how much they’ve stayed the same. And like, even about the nature of ‘maturity’ in general. Y’know, what does it mean when Child Finn at his very childish knew his limitations so vividly - while as an adult he denies them?

But I’m also thinking about the last part of Finn’s ‘Prisoners of Love’ dialogue - the part where he suggests that the Ice King could talk to Jake. Especially when everything about Finn and Simon’s F&C interactions happens very obviously under the shadow of Jake’s death.

Now, I was never really quite sure that ‘Prisoners of Love’ Finn was right about Ice King needing to talk to Jake. I think that was more of Finn idolizing how wise and mature his big bro was. Because, like, Jake kinda alternates between genuinely giving a lot of good advice and between just saying whatever makes excuses for his many personal vices. Plus, he always had less patience and sympathy towards the Ice King compared to Finn.

Including that very scene! That’s literally shown in the next line of dialogue!

But, maybe if it was Finn and Jake together - the combination of Finn’s sympathy and genuine drive to help and Jake’s wisdom and good advice could've helped a lot more. And also... it is literally Finn’s grief over Jake that indirectly led to Finn’s attempt to help Simon to fail so spectacularly. So you can at least say that if Jake was around - as in if he was still alive, maybe this wouldn't have turned out so badly.

And also.......

It feels pretty notable to me that by the end of the Series, the person who did get Simon to the root of all of his Issues, possibly the most important singular conversation Simon had

was with Beth the Pup Princess. The Jake of the +1000 Era. Quite possibly Jake's literal reincarnation.

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ananke-xiii · 1 month

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(it's going to be quite a convoluted post but bear with me)this insanely good post by @postmodernmulticoloredcloak (about this line from 7x21 "the angels, they don't care. I think maybe they just don't have the equipment to care. Seems like when they try, it just breaks them apart") made me think of another line, always by Edlund, from TMWWBK s6e20, ie:

Dean: It's not too late. Damn it, Cas! We can fix this!

Cas: Dean, it's not broken!

I remember that when I first watched the episode I thought "hold on, what is going on here?" 'cause it was clear from Cas' reply that the lines are not just about the Purgatory situation but also about Dean and Cas' situationship. Now, Dean's words "fix" and "equipment", reminded me how he uses fixing Baby in s7e1 as a necessity ofc, but as a coping mechanism, too after the whole mess with Sam's wall and Cas getting pregnant with Leviathans (I don't remember the lines but I'm pretty sure that he even admits, in different words, that fixing the car is a way to for him to stay focused, to regain control).

And now that the image of fixing a car has popped into my mind, I recalled the lines from s7e17 when Dean tells Emmanuel that he can't "shake off" what Cas did and Cas/Emmanuel says: "You're not a machine, Dean. You're human".

So what am I trying to say? Well, I think what I want to say is that although Dean is humanity, he's the definition of caring etc, at the same time, he doesn't have the tools to navigate his relationship with Cas. He is willing to but he doesn't know how to and this drives him a bit crazy. So, in a way, Dean doesn't have the "equipment" to care as well, not generally speaking, but specifically when it comes to Cas (Dean has said so in s7e17, the one thing he can't shake off is this thing with Cas). Every time he tries they break apart anyway.

From here I went a bit insane 'cause I started thinking: so what happens when you fall in love, deeply, nonsensically and for the first time but you don't know what to do? Like you don't even recognize how big this whole mess is simply because you don't have the tools to deal with these freakingly huge totally-out-of-control emotions? And then the person you're falling for becomes God or whatever and then he dies? What's one supposed to do? I guess fixing a car is as good as a coping mechanism as any So Dean couldn't fix things with Cas but he sure as hell can fix his baby. Now if you excuse me, I'll be over there crying.

#destiel #spn #supernatural #castiel #season 6 #season 7 #dean winchester #insame show for insane people #spnblr #spn brainrot #spnfandom #spn lines

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captainmera · 8 months

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What are some other hairstyles you imaging the group in? Any fun ones that Hunter tried (or was forced into by Willow, Amity, etc) as his hair got longer?

THIS IS A LONG ONE (with art) SO I'M PUTTING IT UNDER A READ MORE! :)

first of all I think GUS would be the one with the most hairstyles, hats and drip in general - he loves the human world's culture and their way of using fashion to express themselves uniquely - including hair. I mean, he also has curly hair. So he would have durag styles, various protection styles, twists and braids. And, because his hair curls, he could vary between long and shorter styles.

I also think Gus would have styles that are more typically "feminine" too, as he is very gender-non-conforming in the crew's art of him.

Though, I will say, it works for Gus in-canon that he only keeps one style at first (narratively speaking, not realistic haircare - I think?) because then that would emphasise his time in the human realm later on to be an important developing arc for him (assuming they would actually give him various styles, as indicative of the bits we got of him in episode 1.)

I think, had season 3 happened, we would have gotten a more vibrant Gus. He wants to be an ambassador, he loves the human realm, whom else than GUS to be the one to have an arc where he explores and embodies the full-on SELFEXPRESSION!

Fashion and hair is a way to express the uniqueness of yourself. If Luz' wish as the main character is to be understood, then the (positive) characters around her will (one way or another) embody different lessons for that theme. Gus: Self-expression. (Fashion, style, hair, charisma) Hunter: Identity. (Confidence, self-love, self-respect) Willow: Inner self. (Vulnerability, self-care, self-acceptance) Amity: Outer self. (Presentation of your truth, pride of oneself.) Vee: Voice. (Standing up for yourself, perseverance) Camila: Support. (Union of group, accepting and giving love)

And I think their fashions/hair aka - character designs would reflect these various things!

On a more fun note I think the only reason Hunter could pull off his own unique style is because Gus helps him combine them properly.

Hunter really said dollhouse fairycore and Gus ran with it.

AMITY: Basic styles, probably thinking of her siblings to feel closer to them. Especially Emira's hairstyles. :) I think, because her mom was so controlling of how her hair presented, I think Amity moves away from doing too much with it and rather let it be adventurous and free.

WILLOW: Lots of braids and pigtails. I think she likes to have practical hairstyles as well as more "gentle" ones. The practical ones to reflect her jock-side, and the lose ones to reflect her more gentile and sensitive side! :)

HUNTER: I think just keeps his in a ponytail or (as in the canon) just loose and shaggy without much care. Showing his early stages of being a blank slate. Just let things have it's course to see what "grows" from it, y'know? And then he gets his iconic haircut scene and literally "starts over" with a new arc. :)

I think LUZ just keeps her iconic style that she's had through the show, with the additional tiny low-pinned ponytail that makes her look like a rouge adventurer! Kinda like Amity. I also think Luz hair grows a bit more wavy the longer it gets! :)

VEE is also someone who goes through the most changes, but in her body and face rather than fashion. I think her style would be of the alternative side, perhaps a bit of a concert-kid vibe and basic comfy stuff. She's visually been shown to have the opposite expressions of Luz, quite literally being from opposite realms and having opposite personalities. Where Luz felt hopeful Vee was quick to give up. Our basilisk girl also seem to fit in more with the human realm, enjoying being a normie - after all, her life wasn't normal up till that point. So it makes sense for her to seek it and even find her safety in her own baseline.

BUT YEAH!

I THINK THAT'S IT????

ENJOY MY THOUGHTS.

#toh #the owl house #art reply #toh gus #toh hunter #toh amity #toh willow #ask #asks #toh ask

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 1 year

Text

Ok no let me explain you a thing.

I can't take it. I literally can't take this moment without making a sound somewhere in the back of my throat. It's the cutest thing ever and it's this frame here that makes it.

Look, I know this is Wan. I know Wan isn't really canon and this is the preschool episode so it's even less so. But there's something in here that is an absolutely canon thing Akutagawa does.

The scene starts off with Akutagawa's typical reverence and excitement that Dazai is sitting near him. Nothing particularly notable there. But then Dazai gets excited by what's going on and Akutagawa gives him this look and I just can't take it man.

Because that's a genuinely fond look. He's happy for him. He's happy Dazai is enjoying himself.

And that's not just a Wan thing. He says along those lines to Kyouka in one of my all-time favourite BSD scenes in general.

It just. I just have a lot of feelings about that. This is a guy who, we know from Heartless Cur and the beginning of Beast, has very little in the way of emotion - but when he does feel, it's rather all-encompassing, even overwhelmingly strong. Things like rage and desperation. It's raw survival instinct.

But then he has. This too.

Here's the thing. In the preschool chapter, silly as it is, Dazai is still fixated on suicide. He has the noose, just doesn't speak about it openly. So, it's probably quite rare that Dazai shows genuine enjoyment the way he did here - and that's worth that small smile.

In the main universe, Akutagawa remembers how Kyouka hated herself to the point of asking to be killed, then sees how fierce she is about defending her new life and self, and decides that he's glad for her.

It really means something to me that one of the very few relational emotions he allows himself to feel is happiness and pride on others' behalf.

It roots itself less in compassion or happiness itself and more in a sense of respect... but remember that Akutagawa hardly gives his respect easily. He gives his respect only to those he considers strong, and in nearly every battle, he finds himself disappointed. What he wants is kind of contradictory - he wants a worthy opponent, so someone who poses a strong challenge to him to prove his own worth as one who will never be weak again... and yet, when they lose against him, he's often disappointed they did not succeed or fight harder, and looks down on them.

Atsushi's motive, or what he initially thinks his motive is, is disappointing to him at first - Akutagawa believes he is trying to prove himself as worthy of living through someone else's acceptance and berates him for it. But that's... exactly what he has been doing. Later on, he continues to question Atsushi for his motives, in yet another of one of my favourite scenes.

He asks him over and over - "why?" And is not satisfied until Atsushi reveals that he's also looking to get rid of the shadow of the orphanage director that follows him like a haunting - that trauma? All that pain thrown in his face? He is fighting to overcome it. He is fighting via proof and change because Atsushi wants to live, and to not have to feel ashamed of that. And that's what it took for Akutagawa to trust him and respect him enough to transfer Rashoumon to him.

I think, on some level, Akutagawa is invested in seeing whether Atsushi will succeed in this. And I think, in spite of everything between them, he will be glad for him if he does.

I just really love this aspect to his character, because while he searches for strength in violence and power and physical skill, it means on a deeper level, he actually sees joy and resistance in the face of despair as true strength that's worth acknowledging.

I want him so badly to accept that as true strength within himself in the main timeline.

I also love it because Beast confirms that Akutagawa would do anything for his sister and I am now free to imagine Gin telling her brother all the things she was learning and how she was slowly connecting to the Black Lizard and feeling overwhelming pride for her but not really expressing that but Gin knowing that's how he felt regardless, anyways that is all

Is this even coherent anymore? Oh well.

#me making an analysis that reads too much into wan number 28746837 #sorry but it drives me crazy and i needed to spew #bsd #bsd meta #...i guess.#bsd akutagawa #bsd dazai #bsd kyouka #bsd atsushi #bsd gin #storyrambles

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ourflagmeansheartbreak · 7 months

Text

All the gentle little ways Nandor has been showing his love [spoilers s1-s5]

I talked about this before, but the glitter painting. Can you imagine this giant ancient warrior who used to slaughter people for fun now slaughters people for food on daily basis, sitting down with a painting of him and a picture of Guillermo in front of him trying to recreate… a glitter painting?? For his friend??

Him trying for citizenship test. He said in the interview with the camera that he “obviously just gonna hypnotise the man to get his citizenship”. Yet he sat down, what was probably for hours, studying with Guillermo. And for why if he knew he’s going to just hypnotise him? Perhaps because he’s majorly detached from humans and his idea of managing to spend time with one human he feels certain… connection to, is to create a false pretence to spend time together? Just to hear him talk a little longer?

Speaking of talking, on more than one occasion has Nandor asked for Guillermo to just… talk. Especially when he’s going to slumber. Not knowing Guillermo has ulterior motive, he was more than happy to hear about some movie he saw. And he’s so passionately listening to it as well. Or just whatever he’s thinking in general. In very few cases has he stopped him, it’s usually others that do. Not Nandor.

Not turning him into vampire. This might be debatable, but the reason as we saw in the finale was obviously because he didn’t think he can… be one. He was waiting for him to get tougher. But he never did, simply because that’s not who he is. And him saying that vampirism is a curse and he could not burden him with it? Nandor has been unhappy being a vampire for a WHILE and the idea of subjecting someone he cares about to it… must have brought him a heart ache. Something Guillermo never got. Nandor wanted to be a father and he was so sad his children were afraid of him after he turned.

Guillermo has yelled, cussed at Nandor many times and once even slapped him (hard if I may add). Nandor never got mad or upset, if anything he usually agrees with him. The most he has reacted to it was “your tone was disrespectful but you’re right”. Not to mention Guillermo tried to kill him three times now, and if anything it seemed like… Nandor gained some respect for him. And that makes sense, he’s a soldier, he used to measure respect by the blade and body count, but it also seemed like he gained more than just respect for him.

Nandor likes it when Guillermo stays until he’s fallen into slumber. He asked him to stay because… Guillermo is probably the only person he feels safe with. He even asks “what is this feeling I’m feeling” because he’s too detached from it and he trusts his judgment.

Whoever annoys Nandor even a little he either hypnotises them or just simply tries to kill them (remember Topher? He liked him quite a bit but he attacked Guillermo and then annoyed him and he tried three times to kill him. The only time Nandor wanted to kill Guillermo was when he disobeyed him by turning himself into vampire behind his back.

In the “reunited” episode, Guillermo was swearing and yelling at everyone and then he fell through the floors, Nandor didn’t even stop to think, he just yelled out “Guillermo I’m coming!” And jumped in immediately. Man didn’t even doubt it for a second. Then this ancient warrior sat down to dry him off and ask “how are we feeling”. YOU GOTTA REALISE HIS DAILY LIFE IS KILLING PEOPLE AND HE SITS HERE IN FRONT IF THIS MORTAL AND TAKES TIME TO DRY HIM OFF.

In the “mall” episode Guillermo said he’s going to get footlocker, Nandor didn’t know what that was, he’s 700 years old what the hell does he know about foot locker? So he gets a huge case for Guillermo. The foot locker. The bitch really sat down and thought about what the hell that is and he got the closest thing he could think of.

I made a whole separate post about last episode as a whole, because it was Nandor’s love letter.

This ancient warrior, who kills people every day, killed thousands of people, has a soft spot for one mortal who brushes his hair so gently before he goes to slumber. They’re in love. You can’t deny it.

Am I reading into details? Yes. It’s a show, that’s what I do.

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gold-rhine · 2 months

Text

What the guard dogs are for

There are some things you never want to hear your secret years-long crush saying, such as “I’m getting married,” “I think we should stay friends” or “I’m the destroyer of the present order, the one who shall judge all gods, and the foe of humanity.” Wriothesley’s very bad, no good day of trying to unravel conspiracy theories, fumbling a tea party with Chief Justice and learning Teyvat’s ancient history and vishap lore from the leading expert lector.

Genre: angst and misinformation campaign

Characters: Neuvillette\Wriothesley, Enjou

Warnings: sfw in a sense that nothing even remotely sexy happens, but there is dissociation, ptsd episode, brief mention of self-harm, and Enjou doing same thing he does in canon, which is not quite gaslighting? Anyway, let me know if you feel any other warnings need to be added.

Chapters: 1 out of 2. Wordcount: ~8k

With his morning tea, Wriothesley riffled through the reports as usual. Nothing was marked urgent, so he started with the most boring part, - the official ones. The production numbers, coupon consumption statistics, everything is prepared for Neuvillette’s upcoming inspection, which was mostly a formality, but he would want it to go as smoothly as possible.

Reports from the surface informants. Traveler stirring up a ruckus with the research institute… Well, about time, that pit couldn’t go on forever pretending that massive explosions are just a part of science routine.

Next, creatures called “vishaps” appeared recently in Erinnyes Forest. These vishaps are apparently a lesser form of dragons, and connected to Liyue vishaps, also lizard-like creatures, though in Liyue they are aligned with geo, not hydro. Non-hostile to humans, aside from one accident. But in that one they fought back against the hunters sent by nobles to capture them as novelty pets. So the only regrettable part was that they didn’t get the nobles, only their lackeys. For shame.

Next, there are gangs with new lingo going around, which generally was a good thing to pay attention to as they usually ended up in Meropide. Wriothesley frowned, reading the lingo translations, as he suddenly felt old. “Trendy Zaytun Peach” was something he’d got called for taking it up the ass a lot in his days, but now it’s a hip and cool nickname with the youngsters.

Informal internal reports. Victims of beret society are rehabilitating fine, preparations for the wedding are underway. Good. Albert, a new guy from the shop, is sending him tea. Quite good tea at that. Obviously a bribe attempt, though he didn’t ask for anything as of yet, so it was basically free. Everything was fair in love and bribes as far as Wriothesley was concerned. You could throw everything at the feet of your beloved as to the feet of your targeted bureaucrat, and receive nothing and you would have no claim to complain. Now, the fact he wouldn’t take it into account when making decisions about their proposals, and sometimes would even consider it a negative, was a different matter altogether.

He perked up reading the last report. There was a new conspiracy, whose agenda was not very clear, as they were more careful than the others, but the gist was something against Neuvillette, so Wriothesley was tracking it for some time. It was hard to get anything concrete though, as they were pretty good at keeping a low profile, but now apparently one of the members by the name of Jacque got into the Fortress on unrelated charges, and he was reportedly not the brightest shank on the block.

Wriothesley made the arrangements.

Half an hour later, he happened to stroll by when Jacque was being beaten up by three guys in the shadowy corner.

“Hey, what’s going on here? Leave him alone!” he said, walking up to them.

“Oh yeah?”, said one of the bullies, turning to him. “Well, make me!”

They were paid double for the pretend fight. It might have been an overkill, usually Wriothesley would go for just scaring them off without combat. Especially because anyone who’s been in the Fortess for some time or had a head on their shoulders would understand that nobody would try to openly fight the Duke outside of the fight club arena. But Jacque was as fresh as they get, allegedly stupid, and it was Wriothesley’s first chance at any info in two whole months, so he decided to make it as impressive as possible.

He went as easy on the guys as he could, they theatrically threw the fight and retreated.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, kneeling next to the guy in the corner and putting his hand on his shoulder for emphasis.

“Yeah, yeah, I think I’m fine,” Jacque muttered, shaking his head.

“Why did they attack you?”

“They don’t want me to spread the truth...” Jacque said with heavy emphasis. “But uh, thanks for helping me out.”

“No need to thank me. I feel bad enough that honest folk like yourself get picked on in MY Fortress. That’s not how I want to run my place, so it’s only natural that I stand up for you.”

It took a moment, but finally the guy gasped.

“Your fortress? Are you… the Duke?”

At least he knew what “Duke” is.

“Yeah,” Wriothesley grinned, turning up the charm. “And allow me to get you a couple of drinks to compensate for the rude welcome you’ve received so far.”

He got them to the Coupon Cafeteria, where best meals were already arranged, and generously poured alcohol into the poor guy, listening to the story of his life and misfortunes that brought him to the Fortress, nodding empathetically. He didn’t ask about Neuvillette at all, to not spook the target, trusting that he will come to this anyway, and finally his patience was rewarded.

“You know, you’re good!” the guy said drunkenly after some time, clasping his hand on Wriothesley's shoulder, which he beared stoically, grinning with all friendliness in the world.

“You know, they say we can’t talk to you because you’re bought by that lizard, but I think you’re a good guy. You just don’t know all the facts!”

“Which are?”

The guy leaned closer to him and lowered his voice to a dramatic whisper. “Neuvillette is an evil dragon!”

Wriothesley choked on a laughter, which was way too obvious to turn into cough even for the dunce this stupid.

“No, you don't understand! Dragons were enemies of humanity that Celestia conquered. But they come back when killed! They reincarnate! He is a hydro dragon who was reborn in a human form so he could more easily trick us!”

Wriothesley blinked, remembering Neuvillette standing under the rain, and the old children’s song. “Hydro dragon, Hydro dragon, don’t cry….”

“He put our rightful archon Furina on that trial, right? No one else saw the verdict, so he pretended she was declared guilty. He forced her to abdicate and took the power for himself!”

Wriothesley realized long ago that Neuvilette, of course, was not human. It was clear to any idiot who talked to him for longer than a minute in an informal setting, not to mention a lifespan of at least five hundred years. But there were a lot of options other than “evil dragon”. There were old gods who did not receive archonhood, but instead decided to serve the archon, like Liyue’s adepti, and he always assumed Neuvillette was of the same kind. But the idea that Iudex was some kind of evil monster with a grudge against humanity was ridiculous. Especially when he showed up at the Fortress and saved the entire Fountaine and Wriothesley’s own hide from the flood.

“Really?”

“Yeah! We should restore our true archon Furina to her rightful throne!”

Furina’s insurrection? Interesting. Wouldn’t peg her for someone capable of this type of conspiracy.

“And did Furina herself give us her blessing?”

“She can’t speak publicly, as this monster threatens her.”

Hmm, inconclusive on Furina’s involvement.

He spent more time with the drunk Jacque, trying to get more details, but couldn’t get much more than unhinged ramblings on how evil the dragons are and how insidious it was for a dragon to pretend to be a human. He had to leave to prepare to Neuvillette's arrival the next day.

_____

Neuvillette stepped out of Opera Epiclese into the rain and slowed down his pace to prolong the sensation. It was a bit of what humans called guilty pleasure, as he felt guilty from inflicting rain on humans for his own pleasure. Though from his understanding, humans felt guilty because they saw this pleasure as something bad for themselves. Even if often this supposed harm made no sense to Neuvillette. Eating too much food until a human's stomach hurt was at least understandable to see as such, but he heard one of palais’ secretaries say that romance novels were her guilty pleasure. How could humans feel guilty for something as simple as reading? He stopped and asked her why she would feel guilty for reading, because melusines kept telling him that socializing with humans is very easy, you just need to ask them questions about themselves and let them talk about what they like. Well, it didn’t seem to work, as the secretary stumbled, started hyperventilating and emanated levels of panic and anxiety comparable to someone in the defendant’s chair. Sensing human emotions did not actually help Neuvillette in communicating with them, as he could not discern the reasons. He asked her if she perhaps came into possession of any cursed texts? He could generally sense the stench of corruption and there was nothing on her, but there was always a possibility that it was a curse he could not register. She panicked even more and vehemently denied. At this point he decided to give up on socializing, as it was obviously very distressing for humans, but felt obliged to tell her that if she ever did read anything she felt was cursed, to inform him. He hoped it would assuage her fear of reading. She thanked him, stuttering, and after that day avoided him at all costs.

The rain was a compromise solution in any case. Neuvillette always felt a bit strained and uncomfortable in his body, but after obtaining full dragonhood and most of the memories of past lives, the human shape felt downright stifling. He now remembered thousands of years of being something much bigger, long coils that could easily crush the spire of Opera Epiclese. Now, when he looked at his own reflection, it was hard to comprehend that this small and ridiculous frame was actually him. In addition, all of his memories and instincts called him to be submerged in water. But even with his poor understanding of humans, he realized that seeing the Iudex floating in the river would alarm humans much more than him standing under the rain. So rain was the closest solution he could get at his position.

He summoned rain instinctively, to be as close to engulfed in water as possible. It was a bit embarrassing that even humans noticed it and composed a rhyme, even if that rhyme was inaccurate. He didn’t cry, as vishaps didn’t cry at all and even his current human shaped body didn’t have tear ducts. The closest he could pinpoint to human experience, as he understood it, was being stressed and desire to be comforted, for which water was his best remedy.

And currently he was quite stressed, looking over the Fontaine laws in an attempt to revise them. The current system that treated justice as theater was clearly imperfect, which he realized long ago. But he never saw himself as authorized to change it, as humans were the responsibility of the archon and even without it, he was well aware he didn’t understand humans, so he knew it wasn’t his place to question the human justice system, to which he was only a temporary guest. But now, as fontanias became part of Teyvat after his decision, and so, a part of his responsibility as Teyvat’s god of life, even if the usurper tried to deny him, he couldn’t ignore the need for change any longer. The problem was that he did not understand humans any better, so it was very stressful to try and restructure their systems of governance.

He extended a hand, catching raindrops on his palm, when he noticed a silhouette near the elevator to the Fortress, and stopped himself from visibly controlling the weather.

Wriothesley caught his eyes and grinned, approaching him at brisk pace, umbrella over his head.

“Greetings, Monsieur.”

“Good morning, Your Grace.”

Wriothesley always somehow managed to make a “Monsieur” sound more impactful than Neuvillette could “Your Grace”, despite one being a noble title and another just a polite greeting.

“Would you like to…?” Wriothesley extended his arm with an umbrella, without actually covering Neuvillette with it. In the past, as a part of playing a role of “normal human”, Neuvillette accepted such offers, though there were not many aside from Wriothesley who dared to approach him with it. But now, as he was a full-fledged dragon, at the height of his power and influence in this land, surely he could afford to discard this role? Surely he could afford to be himself at least in this?

“No, thank you,” he said, smiling and trying to sound as cordial as possible, so that Wriothesley would not think it was a slight against him personally. “Don’t take it as offense, but I actually like being under the rain.”

The Duke smiled back, shaking his head.

“No offense taken, but why didn’t you say it last time? I felt like an idiot forcing you under an umbrella.”

“Really?” Neuvillette perked up, falling in step with the human. “You could tell that I…”

“Hated it? Yeah, for sure.”

“....prefered not to have an umbrella.”

Wriothesley let out a low, guttural bark of laughter that somehow got to the dragon despite him not being interested in humans in general.

“Not only I could tell I disturbed you, but I had to walk on the flowerbed to get to you, and then I trailed dirt in the Palais while everyone here glared at me for the audacity. Meanwhile you walked on the same dirt, but stayed pristine!”

“I’m sorry for…”

“Hey, don’t apologize. I’m just kidding, don’t worry.”

Neuvillette met the greyish blue eyes of thawed ice directly and sensed that he was truly not bothered, which didn’t make much sense. But Wriothesley was one of the very few humans who was not scared in the dragon’s presence. He was, probably, the only one who emanated only positive emotions at their meetings. Neuvillette mostly encountered negative reactions in his daily life at the trials, so he could not tell apart which positive feelings exactly that he read from Wriothesley due to the lack of exposure. But perhaps…

“I wouldn’t want you to feel unwelcome at the Palais,” Neuvillette said after a short pause.

Wriothesley grinned with a careless shrug.

“Then I will be there, even if the rest of your bureaucrats make faces. As I said, don’t worry.”

Neuvilette frowned, but didn’t see much point in pressing this further. After a confrontation with Navia, the dragon realized that his lack of understanding of humans hindered him, instead of making him truly impartial. Especially now that he was de facto in charge of the entire Fontaine government. And practice showed that only direct interaction with humans could give valuable experience, as watching from the Iudex seat did not allow him a nuanced understanding.

So perhaps, if Wriothesley was a rare human who was not scared of him, and he proved rational and trustworthy in the years they knew each other, Neuvillette could confide in his true nature and maybe ask for advice in understanding humanity?

“Perhaps staying for some tea would make up for this past offense?”

Wriothesley stumbled for a moment.

“Seriously?” He sounded as casual and ironic as usual, but the surprised burst of positive emotions from him was bright and obvious. “After all these years you finally decided to deign my humble office with your presence?”

“It’d be a completely unofficial visit, of course.”

“Sure, sure. It was never my secret plot to bribe you with a tea party, trust me, even I realize my tea is not that good.”

His voice was ironic, but for a moment Neuvillette could see his crooked grin turn into a genuine smile. So, reassured that he was not imposing, Iudex nodded and followed the human into the Fortress’ entrance.

_________

The inspection itself was mostly a formality. The Court of Fontaine technically had no direct authority over Meripode, but it provided guards and substantial resources, and so it had a right to oversee the use of these assets. The actual budgeting was done on the regular in behind the scenes reports though, as the data was not visible in the in person visit. Still, it was a time honored tradition that got Neuvilette to show up regularly.

“Take a seat. It will take me a minute to make tea.”

Neuvilette gracefully sat down on the visitor’s chair In Wriothesley office, folding his hands on the cane. He still sat with a ramrod straight back and perfect posture, but there was a certain lightness to him today, which was hard to put into words.

“The inspection is over, yet you are still nervous.”

Wriothesley knew he had a poker face good enough to cover it, yet Neuvillette saw it anyway. He had theorized for a long time that the Iudex could sense emotions, but usually he would not acknowledge it directly like this. “I wasn't nervous about the inspection to begin with. But inviting a high and mighty Iudex himself to the tea for years and then disappointing him when he finally accepts would be a devastating faux de pas. They will mock me on the first pages of all the papers tomorrow.”

Neuvillette frowned slightly.

“I must underline that I’m not here in any official capacity, and I would hope I’m talking to Wriothesley, not the Warden or the Duke. If you agree, I would ask that we leave the titles at the door.”

“No, of course,” Wriothesley, who had fantasized about leaving titles at the door and then clothes on the floor for actual years, said quickly, frantically recalculating how he could turn the tea party to wine tasting, which best wines he had confiscated in his storage and how he could make turning on the gramophone and then maybe leaning against the edge of the table in front of Neuvillette look natural and smooth. “Absolutely. I was just joking anyway, don’t mind it.”

“Ah, I see. I apologize, I’m unfortunately prone to missing humorous intent, so I appreciate your clarification.”

With how far the Iudex went out of his way to assure people of his good intentions in informal situations, Wriothesley really didn’t understand how everyone found him so intimidating. Especially because he very often had to interact with assholes in positions of power who did try to intimidate him on purpose and the contrast was very apparent. Neuvillette projected an aura of power without really wanting to, and then tried to over-explain himself to make others feel at ease. His earnest awkwardness was something like the clumsiness of a huge beast like an elephant trying not to step on the gaggle of kittens at his feet.

“In any case, there is nothing to be nervous about. After all, tea is liquid, and it’s really hard to make liquids unpleasant. So far I think only Fonta truly managed it.” Neuvillette drummed his fingers on the table and glanced at Wriothesley. “To be frank, if crimes against water could be prosecuted, Fonta would receive life in prison.”

Wriothesley snorted. “So no sugar in your tea, I take it?”

“No, thank you,” Iudex said politely and then, after a short pause, “And to clarify, I was not serious. There is nothing wrong with people liking sugary drinks, of course. I was just making an attempt at a joke.”

He really was horrendously bad at pretending to be a human. How could anyone hear him talk and still believe he’s a scheming manipulator was beyond ridiculous.

“No, I got it. It was a good joke,” The Duke grinned, placing a teacup in front of Neuvillette and sitting down across the table with his own.

Neuvillette gave him a graceful nod with a little smile and picked up his cup, giving it a swirl before tasting.

“Hmm. Interesting. Poignant. Bitter,” he said thoughtfully, tilting his head.

Wriothesley was about to mention that this sort was not usually bitter, but Iudex continued.

“Not by nature, but forced by circumstances. Not nearly enough water to be nourished, so it had to adapt and conserve strength, letting leaves seen as unimportant to die and concentrate on survival of the main branches. But there is not just hunger… there is a dream of rain. An ache of something not ever known, but yearned, longed for, without realizing what it is. But then…” Neuvillette closed his eyes for a moment. “It happened. There is a memory of luminous joy of water not gathered by mere drops, but drank in full, overwhelming, a feast after a life of fighting for scraps of morning dew. It had tasted rain at least once in the end.”

Wriothesley put his own cup down, leaning forward in disbelief.

“No way. This was a harvest from a drought year and it’s normally a mild sort, considered unusually strong in this season. How could you know this? Are you cheating?”

“You’re welcome to test me with other samples,” Neuvillette said with an air of a magnanimous ruler granting a boon and put the teacup down with a delicate clink.

“Oh, I’m taking you up on your word, trust me,” the Duke grinned, but then paused. He didn’t want to spoil the mood, but he remembered how strongly Neuvillette felt about the perceived melusines conspiracy. Wriothesley had to tell him about the evil dragon idiots just to make sure he’s not thrown off balance later. That’s what the guard dogs are for, after all.

“Actually, before we move forward with testing your psychic tea reading abilities, there is something concerning official business that I think you should know. And then we can forget it completely.”

Neuvillette inclined his head with a small smile.

“There is a small group of conspirators, - and I must reiterate, it’s very small - who operate on the ridiculous idea that… uh, that you’re some kind of an evil dragon who schemed to overthrow Furina.”

Neuvillette's smile froze.

“You don’t have to worry about it, really. It’s negligibly small, and well, anyone with a working brain would not believe that you’re a monster in disguise.”

Iudex was silent for some time, not meeting Wriothesley’s eyes.

“Are melusines implicated in this?” he said finally.

“No. No, there’s no connection to them in this stupid theory.”

“Good. That's good. They do love living with humans so much.”

Wriothesley suspected that Iudex was taking things kind of out of proportion again.

“Listen, it’s really nothing…”

“No, no, I understand. It would be so unacceptably horrifying for humans to learn their ruler is a… monster.”

Neuvillette's voice wavered, but his face was impartial, strict, previous lightness gone completely. Wriothesley saw his hands tighten their grip on the handle of his cane a moment before he abruptly stood up.

“I must apologize for impropriety, but I have important business in the Palais which was inappropriate for me to neglect for so long. I must beg your leave to depart.”

Wriothesley stood up too, scraping to understand what he did wrong.

“Wait, it’s not…”

“Thank you for your time, Your Grace.”

Wriothesley shut his mouth, the title feeling like a slap for the first time in his life. The formality and politeness somehow only made it worse. He took a deep breath and willed himself to sound calm.

“I hope you have a nice evening, Monsieur Iudex.”

Neuvillette left in what for his usual dignified pace could be considered a hurry. Wriothesley followed him without being seen, partly to make sure he doesn’t get bothered by inmates and partly on an instinct to investigate.

At the Fortress’ entrance, he watched Neuvillette walk under the rain, lifting his head upward. The blue strands of his long hair glowed and so did his coat-tails. They extended, shining brilliant bioluminescent blue, trailing behind the Chief Justice, in a moment looking like fish’s fins, then the next - as colossal snake’s coils. Sea waves crashed against the ridge without any wind, rising high, reaching to a lonely glowing figure of Iudex. With bated breath, Wriothesley watched Neuvillette extend a hand, as if catching raindrops - and rain stopped mid-flight in the air, lingering over his palm, waves frozen cresting over the earth. The raindrops gathered in a shuddering spheres, and then stretched upwards, against all laws of gravity. Wriothesley’s heart skipped a beat as Neuvillette closed his fist and the rain flew backwards to the skies.

Wriothesley stormed back into his office and frantically searched through the reports, pages flying about, until he found the one about vishaps. He looked at the photos, seeing similarities he would never look for before. The dark blue color of vishap’s hide was nearly identical to Neuvillette’s attire, but that was small beans, easily written off as coincidence. Their eyes, bright magenta with white vertical slice of a pupil, resembled Iudex, but there was room for debate, as his eyes were much paler, lilac merging into gentle blue instead of a bright pink, even as white vertical pupil was so similar. What really struck Wriothesley after all this, was actually the little blue feather at the side of the head of both vishaps and Neuvillette. It was identical and looked so… deliberate. It had to be chosen and placed precisely like this.

Still, this was not enough. He needed more evidence. He needed… he needed answers.

He walked to Jacque's block as quickly as he could without alarming inmates, but when he got to the conspirator’s room, Jacque was sleeping on the bed and a man was sitting on the chair next to him, reading a book. He looked up when Wriothesley walked in and stood up, clumsily dropping the book. He was tall and gangly, had dark hair, Inazuman features and light brown eyes behind the glasses.

“Who are you?” Wriothesley was really not in the mood for playing games.

“Well, my organization caught wind that you are interested in learning some… historical information, and our poor Jacque is really not the best source, which is why I’m here to answer any questions you have,” the man gave him a groveling smile. “You can call me Enjou.”

“Not here. In my office. Follow me.”

When they got there, Enjou whistled musingly.

“Uh, what a nice office! Must be a pretty sweet gig. I wish I had an office instead of slinking in dump ruins all the time.” He sighed theatrically. “So, I assume your main questions are on the vishap situation. I…”

“Wait,” Wriothesley said, walking up to one of his wall cabinets. “You can’t expect me to just believe you on your word.”

“Oh, of course, of course! You’re free to rough me up a bit first. Maybe a little bit of torture? But only a little bit, I’ve got a glass jaw, haha!”

Wriothesley didn’t live so long as an undisputed champion of fight club to not recognize a freak who gets off on pain. He grimaced, walking up to the table where Enjou was already trying to rifle through the papers. He stopped with an apologetic grin and put his hands up. Wriothesley put a glass vial on the table.

“Drink.”

Enjou raised his eyebrows.

“Are we dining and wining first or?...”

“It’s a truth serum,” it was a secret project of the Sumeru Akademiya, before the sages were overthrown. Dendro Archon reportedly could read the thoughts of people, and sages were trying to replicate the effect at least partially. Wriothesley came into possession of it after using his network to get the sages connected to the needed people in Fontaine institute, as Fontaine was at the cutting edge of mech technology and the sages were apparently building an artificial god. Didn’t pan out for them, but the serum worked. Wriothesley was sure of it, because he tried it on himself first.

“Oh! How exciting! How does it work? Will it perhaps burn my insides in agonizing pain if I lie?”

“Drink,” Wriothesley said through gritted teeth.

Enjou smiled and drank the vial in one shot.

“Well, nothing is burning so far, but the evening is young, haha,” he said, smacking his lips.

Wriothesley took a deep breath.

“Why are you here?”

“Huh? What do you mean? To explain the history to you, as I said.”

“Because of the goodness of your heart? What’s your agenda? Your goal?”

Enhou cleared his throat.

“Well, first of all, I do believe in uncovering and spreading so-called “forbidden” knowledge. But with your particular case can you really question my agenda? I didn’t come to you first. You were the one who sought us out. I didn’t even want to be here! I was doing my own thing without knowing about you, to be honest! But, well, I am in an organization with some unfortunate morons who thought that recruiting a convenient idiot and then sending him into underworld prison to make sure he isn’t heard is a great plan. And then when the Warden takes note of the idiot and gets him to blabber, these same morons go, Enjou, you have to get there, because you’re a vishap expert! Ugh.”

Enjou shook his head in seemingly sincere frustration.

“But um, yeah, I’m not trying to recruit you or anything. We know how you’ve disposed of House of Hearth agents and how you generally obstruct Fatui’s activity, and we just don't want you to do the same to us. Because we’re not your enemy! So I’m here to provide you with the necessary context to see that.”

Wriothesley drummed his fingers on the table.

“Okay. Start talking about Neuvilette and vishaps.”

“Well, Neuvilette is a Hydro Dragon, that should be obvious. To clarify, Hydro Dragon here means Hydro Dragon Sovereign, because technically all hydro vishaps are hydro dragons. If you didn’t know, which is understandable, as you’re more of a fighter type and not a bookworm like myself, haha, vishaps are primordial elemental creatures, original rulers of this land and mortal foes of humanity. Long before Archons, there were Dragon Sovereigns in charge of each element. Then there was a war with Celestia, specifics of which are not widely known, but we do know that Celestia won, dragons were largely eradicated and the huge chunks of powers of Sovereigns were taken from them and given to the Archons. Hydro Sovereign was killed.”

Enjou made a dramatic pause, before leaning forward with a grin. “But you see, vishaps reincarnate. Neuvillette is a Hydro Sovereign reborn in a human shape. There was actually an Inazuman prophecy about it, recorded in the Byakuyakoku Collection. That Hydro Dragon will descend in a human form, and it specifically mentions a cane. This really baffles me, to be honest. How could they predict the cane? Why does he even need a cane? Surely not because of any weakness, he’s an immortal dragon, 500 years is very young for him. And the records say when Neuvilette took his position as the Iudex some 400 years ago, he already had a cane. Was he born with it? Like, had he sprung fully formed, with a cane? Did he pick it up as, I don't know, honorary agreement with a prophecy? Or were his fashion choices actually predetermined to the degree that the prophecy knew them millenia ago?”

“Get back on track,” Wriothesley growled.

“Oh, sorry. Hmm, this serum works by forcing you to spell your thoughts out loud, yes? Well, then it’s not my fault I’m even more blabbering than usual!”

Wriothesley clasped his hands together and said slowly, carefully watching Inazuman’s reaction. “Even if he is a hydro sovereign dragon, as you say, this alone does not make him evil, as your conspiracy claims.”

Enjou fixed his glasses. He really had the hands of a bookworm, no work calluses or fighting scars. But there were spots of reddened, peeling skin that looked like burns that didn’t get to fully heal before getting burned again.

“Did you miss the “mortal foe of humanity” bit? But okay, sure. This is Fontaine after all, presumption of innocence and all that. I mean, I can’t read his thoughts to tell you under oath that he’s evil, so don’t take me to court, hehe!” Enjou grinned, clearly pleased at his own joke. “But I can tell what I know and ask some questions. My first question is why, after losing a war and presumably being killed by Celestia, would an ancient dragon god want to serve a servant of Celestia? The Archon, who rules with what is actually his own power? Unless he had some sort of agenda, perhaps? And come to think of it, why would Hydro Archon put a mortal foe of humanity into a position of such institutional power?”

“Are you implying Neuvilette forced Furina to give him the position of Iudex?”

“Well, I wasn’t here!” Enjou raised his hands defensively. “But why else would he become the Iudex?”

“There are higher beings and gods serving archons in other nations. Like Liyue adepti serving Rex Lapis.”

“Morax was known as the prime of the adepti. None of them could compare with him at strength. Same with yokai and Baal in Inazuma, she was the strongest by far. It’s natural that they would accept servitude. But here…” Enjou glanced at Wriothesley with a sly smile. “If you had to make a bet on a direct fight between Neuvillette and Furina, who would you bet on? Come on, I know tales that her own court would not listen to her until the Iudex tapped his cane.”

Wriothesley couldn’t really argue with this. When the Primordial Sea started breaking out, he himself sent for Neuvillette and didn’t even think to ask the actual Archon.

“In that case, why didn’t he just kill her immediately? Why would he play the judge?”

“Well, you see, he would not get his power back from just killing her. It would just pass to the next Archon. No, the Hydro Archon had to destroy her own throne. And running out the ruler requires a long game, as you know very well yourself, You Grace.”

Wriothesley kept a calm face, but something must have given him away, as Enjou grinned predatorily.

“Next set of facts and questions. You know of the infamous Archon trial, of course? When it was revealed that fontanian people are actually oceanids, given human shape by the previous hydro archon, Egeria? And the prophecy of the flood works because Primordial Sea waters dissolve fontanians into their oceanid forms. Well, the flood actually came. Why were fontanians not dissolved?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me that.”

“Hehe, yes. It was because Neuvillette turned them into real humans with his powers of Hydro Sovereign. How generous of him, yeah? The question is, why did it take him so long? It’s been 500 years, and yet fontanians were made human only minutes before the flood.”

Despite a feeble bookworm posturing, there was a shadow of unhinged madness in his eyes, dangerous enough that in any other case Wriothesley would cut contact. But the stakes were too high right now. He needed to get all the information he could out of this lunatic.

“You might also remember that on the same trial it was proven that Furina is not a Hydro Archon. And I can tell you that the actual Archon, Focalors, was in the Oracle machine the whole time. Sorry, I’m not even trying to pronounce that full name, haha!”

The urge to punch this bastard was overwhelming, but Wriothesley kept himself in check, mostly because he could tell he was being baited into it and he didn’t want to give the piece of shit the satisfaction.

“Anyway, Neuvilette had an audience with her right after a trial, and as result she killed herself and gave him power back. You see, Hydro Archon doesn’t have the ability to turn oceanids into real humans. All of you were just… things, playing at being humans,” Enjou said with a smirk that looked more fascinated than mocking. “But Hydro Sovereign, the original god of life, does have the power to do so. And he also, conveniently, has control over the Primordial Sea, which you, Your Grace, already know as he stopped the flood in your own Fortress.”

Wriothesley raised an eyebrow and Enjou smiled with a shrug.

“Again, I was not there! But I do know Hydro Sovereign controls the Primordial Sea, and that there is an entrance to the Sea in the Meripode Fortress. I also know that there was some emergency in the Fortress, where inmates were told to run as close to the surface as possible, and then Monsieur Iudex visited and the disaster was somehow avoided.”

Wriothesley frowned.

“If he was really a mortal enemy of humanity, why wouldn’t he just let the gates of Meripode break and the flood happen right there and then? We would all be gone and he wouldn’t need to lift a finger. Instead he ran to help when I… when the Fortress called.”

“And what would that achieve? He still wouldn’t get his power back,” Enjou shrugged dismissively and then smiled, almost wistfully.

“No, you know what I would do if *I* was the Hydro Sovereign with an ability to take human form? And if the Archon who held my power hostage was relatively weak AND had the prophecy involving a flood of the Sea I control? Well, I’d infiltrate human society, take a position of high authority and make sure the humans not only see me as the personification of law and justice, but also respect me more than their own Archon. And when the prophecy deadline is coming up, I’d make sure I have people loyal to me in some key positions. Such as Royal Duelist… and the Warden of the Fortress.”

“He didn’t make me the Warden,” Wriothesley gritted out.

“No, but he did make you the Duke, didn’t he?” Enjou smirked with a wink. “Our sources say the Court was not thrilled to give the highest noble title to you. And if the Iudex did not throw his own weight behind it, it would have never come to pass. How generous of him.”

It was true, Wriothesley’s own informants reported that the Court loathed to give him a title, let alone as high as the Duke. Neuvillette was the only one who fought for him and fought hard, because usually Iudex’s one word was enough to make a decision, but here the stalemate lasted for two months. They wanted to compromise and give him the viscount, but Iudex wouldn’t budge, so in the end, they caved.

Wriothesley never asked Neuvillette for the title. Neuvillette never mentioned what he did for the Warden and never dropped anything even as close as a hint of asking anything in return.

Unless you see it as a part of centuries long game, where mundane favors didn’t matter, but being called first to the access of the Primordial Sea did.

“Ah, you’re starting to get it, don’t you?” Enjou sensed blood in the water, like a proper shark would. “Then I would orchestrate a public court hearing to absolutely discredit the current ruler and corner the actual Archon. And when Focalors is forced to talk to me…. I would make a bargain. Saving the lives of all fontanians in exchange of getting my full power back and Focalors dying. Isn't it ironic that the dragon playing human was the one to turn human-shaped water things into actual humans?"

Enjou leaned back against his chair, grinning with satisfaction.

“And then I’d have an entire country loyal to me as a ruler, which would make a great foothold to use for attacking Celestia.”

Wriothesley took a deep breath.

“You really expect me to take you on your word? You might believe it yourself, which will pass the truth serum, but the word of a lunatic is not evidence.”

“Oh, of course not! I would never expect you to take my lowly word for it. Instead, why don’t you take Monsieur Iudex’s word?”

Enjou made a dramatic gesture of spilling a heap of conches onto the table. Wriothesley raised his eyebrows, when the other man poked one of them awkwardly.

“Now that I have reclaimed one of the Seven Authorities from the hands of the usurpers, I have regained my true form,” a calm voice that was undoubtedly Neuvillette, said out of nowhere. “I am now a fully fledged dragon, powerful enough to judge the rest of the gods. My final destiny is to judge the Usurper-King in the heavens above.”

“This could be faked,” Wriothesley said automatically, just to argue, but his heart already fell.

“You wound me! These are his words, and I spent an entire night fishing them out for you, I’ll have you know. It’s quite hard to capture this. You’re welcome to listen to all of them and see for yourself.”

Almost against his will, Wriothesley reached out and touched one of the conches.

“…I shall fulfill my vow to judge all of The Seven in turn, even if the sky should fall and the ground give way.”

Wriothesley took an abrupt breath through his teeth. Enjou sighed and stood up.

“I think it’s better for you to listen to this alone. After, you’re welcome to reach out to us, but please don’t make any hasty decisions. I’ll see you soon, Your Grace!”

Enjou walked down the stairs, and by the time Wriothesley got to them, there was no one there. The Duke couldn’t bring himself to focus on that though. Instead, he walked up to one of the wall cabinets and took out a bottle of whiskey he was saving up as a possible gift.

He didn’t bother with the glass. He fell down into the chair in front of the conches and clenched his fingers on the bottle, icy veins springing up from under them. He took a sip and touched another conch.

“…my grievances with the usurpers have yet to be settled... They owe a debt of blood that shall not be forgotten.”

He drank, staring blindly into the distance, and listened, and the quiet words burned worse than whiskey sliding down his throat. He caught himself on a familiar thought. “This can’t be happening. This is too monstrous.” The same feverish thoughts he had when he discovered the truth about his foster parents.

As if by now he shouldn’t have learned that nothing is too monstrous in this world.

“As a survivor of the dragon race who has regained my full dragonhood, I must fulfill my oath and obligations even if it means returning all the water in the oceans back to the heavens.”

It really did sound exactly like Neuvillette. Wriothesley tried to find the lie, something that sounded fake, but not only the voice, but the cadence and word choice fit. And it sounded calm, impartial as usual too. And then there were hydro vishaps appearing in Erinnyes…

Fuck, was it really that easy to fool him? Was he really this big of a fool? He learned to distrust sweet words and warm smiles, and he was so sure that he wouldn’t get caught in the same lies ever again, even if he sacrificed his ability to love for this. But all it took was a seeming opposite, direct and harsh, too cold and intimidating to appear manipulative, but endearingly awkward just sometimes, just enough to make him believe that… That there was something true and clear in this rotten world. That he could trust in *someone*.

“Nothing will stop me from rendering judgment on each of The Seven.”

He went through all of the recordings, frantically at first, wanting to find contradictions, then, when none were found, numbly re-listening to the few that hit the worst.

“…also the destroyer of the present order, the one who shall judge all gods, and the foe of humanity. “

Wasn’t it too obvious in hindsight? Why would the Iudex stake his own reputation on Wriothesley’s title? How could you not see it coming? Oh, because you thought you “deserve” it for turning this dog-fighting pit of a prison into something with a modicum of fairness? Because you thought he recognized your redemption? Gods, what are you, fucking fourteen again, did you learn nothing, why would anyone ever care about you, you naive goddamn idiot?

Soon, the bottle was somehow almost done. At this point he was running one recording on repeat, mindless and purposeless except for repeating slashes of pain, familiar rhythm like the knife on his wrists years ago.

"Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don't cry." Whoever had penned that rhyme, as well as the Fontainians who came to believe in it, must not have known the Hydro Dragon all that well, considering that they thought the Hydro Dragon could cry. What did they take said Dragon for, some sort of bleeding heart who grieved for humans and the heavens alike?”

If this was true… If this was true, then Wriothesley didn’t just get fooled himself. Then he helped a monster take control of the country and potentially use it in war against heavens.

He clenched his hand and it took him a moment to realize he broke the bottle he was holding in it. That pain from glass pieces in his palm felt small and distant now. But at last, it spurned him into action.

If this was true, he only had one shot. He’d already told Neuvillette of the dragon conspiracy, like a good little idiot eager to please. And any tyrant worth his salt would make sure to take him out after his, especially now that he outlived his purpose in giving access to Meripode vaults. He might have some time because of how oblivious he was, dismissing the conspiracy openly, but it couldn’t be long.

He couldn’t take his time. He couldn’t hope for the better. He had to act like it’s the worst option possible. More than anything, he needed to confront Neuvillette, dragon Sovereign or not. He had to fix this, no matter the cost.

He realized he needed leverage. Brute strength was out of the question. Even before the flood, Neuvillette absolutely destroyed Fatui Harbinger in one flash, quicker than anyone in the audience could see what happened. Wriothesley would put himself against Harbringer with no hesitation, but he wasn’t an idiot. If this was how powerful Iudex was before, then after allegedly gaining his full power, there was no way Wriothesley could threaten him. No, he needed something else.

He took out the paper and wrote a note, taking care to not stain it with blood. Fortunately, he held the bottle in his left hand, so he could keep it out of the way.

“....and so confess that I, Wriothesley, Warden of the Fortress of Meripode, killed Chief Justice, Iudex Neuvillette.”

He finished the note and carefully put in his signature, then folded the paper into an envelope and closed it with his personal seal. Then he walked up to a safe, one of the hidden ones, and punched in a code. When the safe opened, he rummaged in it for a moment, until finally taking out two vials.

This was sold to him as the poison that could kill a god.

#rhine writes #rhine writes light #neuvillette #wriothesley #wriolette #genshin impact #enjou #i had a lot of fun with enjou here #anyway let me know what you guys think

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