Demi thoughts
Just thinking how being “demi” changes the world as I -demi romantic- see. And hear me out because here it comes my very sloppy description of how I see the world. Yes, “I”, me, myself; I can’t talk about other people’s experiences, so I’m writing MINE, okay? Okay, Good.
I never knew I was demi until it hit me like a train in my face. Confusion and soooo much questioning around helped to finally get to the “Oh shit, THIS IS IT! I’m demi!” And oh boy... my brain and heart were a mess.
(Some) Allos can go around and feeling butterflies just by looking pretty people in a bus ride and then, they never see them again and they can be fine with that. For me, it was like a long ass process of being nothing, to mutuals to friends to OH SHIT!
“I like this person! This person is my best friend! I can trust so much to them! They support me and help me be better! ....... Wait a second... why do I feel weird yet not uncomfortable talking to them? My heart is doing a weird shit, should I go to the doctor?? *Does research and comments about it to some friends* ***GASPS IN SPANISH***”
Many people say that Demi is just a normal person, that’s being loyal to your partner and yada yada yada. It’s not. I can assure you. What allos have with anyone that they might find attractive, we only it have with this (or these, because yes, demis can be poly too!) person! And it makes us feel so deep.
For me, it was finally understanding romantic song, finding the meaning in the expression “belonging to someone”, to want a person, to want to make them happy and to make their happiness one of your objectives in life. Yes, it all sounds common and trivial, but man, when it happens to a demi, it’s not common, it’s not trivial. It’s precious and treasured, because we don’t feel like that with just anyone, only with that person (people) that has our trust and confidence and makes our world better. And for me, it has brought to where I am, literally on the other side of the world, sharing an apartment with my girlfriend. And I swear I’ve never been so happy in my life.
Yes, this has turned out into a long ass ramble of many thoughts in one place >:v well, that’s how my brain goes, bear it with me xD
39 notes
·
View notes
The first time Jin Guangyao held Jin Ling did not go as he'd expected. Jiang Wanyin, half-mad and barely functional, for some reason had been allowed into the nursery by Jin-furen. The moment whispers of this reached Jin Guangyao, of course he went to intercede; and it was fortunate he had. He could hear wailing halfway down the corridor.
"Why is he crying?" Jiang Wanyin demanded of the wetnurse as he held the baby incorrectly.
"This one is sure Sandu Shengshou knows better than her," she replied, eyes wide. Jin Guangyao made note of this, but he had few hopes of improvement. Jin servants knew to be meek.
"Obviously, I don't," Jiang Wanyin snapped, brows furrowed as he stared down at Jin Ling. Jin Guangyao purposefully brushed the silk of his robe, and like a dog Jiang Wanyin raised his head at the sound. "Lianfang-zun, what am I doing wrong?"
With a smile, Jin Guangyao moved between the shaking wetnurse and the mad dog of Lotus Pier. "Jiang-zongzhu, babies require support. Adjust your hand--yes, ah, slightly to the side--"
"Please just show me," Jiang Wanyin said, sounding tired as he held out Jin Ling.
The moment stilled. If his cultivation were better, Jin Guangyao believed he would hear the wetnurse's breath stop. She was, after all, expressly forbidden from allowing his whoreson hands to touch his nephew; yet neither of them could deny a sect leader.
A-Ling was warm and soft, sweetly heavy as all babies should be. His embroidered, daffodil-colored swaddling still burned with the heat of Jiang-zongzhu's high cultivation. Automatically, Jin Guangyao checked the boy for a fever; but of course no illness was allowed to fester in this child.
His chubby cheeks were red from crying, but as Jin Guangyao settled him in his arms, Jin Ling slowly quieted.
"As expected of Lianfang-zun," Jiang Wanyin said, slightly mocking.
When Jin Guangyao gauged his expression from under his eyelashes, however, Jiang Wanyin seemed wistful. He looked as young as he was.
(For a moment, Wen Ruohan's laughter filled his mind. "Xiao-zongzhu" had been a common target of derision, in the beginning. Wen Chao's account of the rape of Lotus Pier had been unusually thorough, and its contents were well-known amongst Wen Ruohan's inner circle. Jin Guangyao had not included the details in his reports to either his father or Lan Xichen. He doubted that this discretion would matter at all to Jiang Wanyin, who had tortured Wen Chao at the side of Wei Wuxian. What would he do to Jin Guangyao for being the last to know?)
Choosing to ignore the self-deprecation and memories both, Jin Guangyao instructed Zidian's master on the handling of human children. Jiang Wanyin made an attentive student, but he did not reach to take Jin Ling even once Jin Guangyao finished. "Would you like to hold him?"
Frowning with concentration, Jiang Wanyin nodded and sidled closer. He held his arms as Jin Guangyao had shown him, and then he checked Jin Guangyao's face, seeking approval.
"Good," Jin Guangyao said. Jiang Wanyin didn't smile, but some tension eased. Careful not to touch hands, Jin Guangyao returned Jin Ling to his jiujiu.
The wetnurse's gentle "oh" described the scene well.
Against the black and violet, Jin Ling looked like a ray of sunshine piercing clouds. Jiang Wanyin's face cleared until he looked as delicately beautiful as gossip painted him to be; while Jin Guangyao generally considered him fragile, it was more in the sense of an arrow point designed to break once it pierced flesh. Now, though, he could understand why Jiang Wanyin was so often painted as a mourning lover spurned by the Yiling Laozu.
Then Jin Ling fell asleep, and Jiang Wanyin's eyes watered. He slowly settled onto the couch, careful not to jostle their nephew.
"How long can I stay?"
Ideally, half an incense stick. Jin Guangyao turned to the wetnurse. "Could you please ask Jin-furen to advise us?"
She bowed her head and left.
After a few moments, Jiang Wanyin said, "She needs guards in the room with her. If she can't even tell me I've fucked up, how will she fare against assassins?"
"Gold Scale Tower has many guards," Jin Guangyao began, but Jiang Wanyin snorted.
"Where do you think we are? If some pompous Jin cousin demands Jin Ling, would she say no? Much less someone with weapons drawn."
"As a servant--"
"Jiang servants can and would."
Jin Guangyao smiled. "Is it not true that Jiang servants are entirely comprised of disciples, disciple candidates, and those who failed to cultivate but chose to stay?"
"It's a sect," Jiang Wanyin answered. "Typically, they are operated like sects, yes."
"Gold Scale Tower must run in accordance with its scale," Jin Guangyao said. "The servants are often merely servants."
Jiang Wanyin, whose face displayed his opinion of that, said nothing for a moment, allowing Jin Guangyao to notice his headache. "She needs guards for herself, not just outside of the room," he repeated.
"Perhaps this is something you can address with Jin-furen?"
Looking up from Jin Ling, Jiang Wanyin studied him. "Alright. Is there anything else you want me to say?"
Jin Guangyao's fingers twitched with the desire to straighten his gold robes. "Between Jin-furen and Jiang-zongzhu, I am sure that all concerns have been considered."
"Please, you notice everything and didn't accept one single item I suggested for a-jie's wedding," Jiang Wanyin said. "Do you expect me to believe you don't have opinions on Jin Ling?"
Jin Guangyao inclined his head, and then he tentatively offered an observation and a suggestion. When Jiang Wanyin merely looked thoughtful, Jin Guangyao continued; while Jiang Wanyin occasionally asked clarifying questions, he never reacted emotionally.
It was... strange, to be in a room with this man, discussing the care of a child he wasn't allowed to do anything for. He wondered what he must look like to Jiang Wanyin to be accepted so easily as an expert on Jin Ling, on anything. Unsettling.
Yet unlike Nie Mingjue, being seen didn't seem dangerous; unlike Wen Ruohan, being noticed didn't accompany invitations to violence.
No, Jiang Wanyin observed him, and his conclusion was that Jin Guangyao could teach him how to hold his one treasure.
For the first time, it seemed like sharing a nephew with this man might be interesting, not simply alarming. Jin Guangyao looked forward to observing him further.
717 notes
·
View notes
lonely
[ID: A limited palette of green and pink, Vashwood comic. The first page serves as a prologue. The first panel shows Vash speaking to someone off screen while Wolfwood is lingering behind him. A black arrow is drawn pointing at him. In the second panel, Vash is buying donuts in the distance while Wolfwood is once again in view, lingering. and the black arrow is drawn pointing at him. In the third panel, Vash is leaving a cubicle and turning towards his right with a slightly peeved expression. He sees Wolfwood, leaning against the cubicle, waiting for him, and with the black arrow drawn, pointing at him, implicating the consistent hovering of Wolfwood’s presence during Vash’s everyday. At the bottom of the page, they’re drawn out of panel with Vash turning to Wolfwood and saying with an irritated expression, “You’re really following me everywhere, huh?” Wolfwood responds, “What, you got a problem?” Vash responds without hesitation, “Yeah, kinda...”
The second page starts with a new day. In the first panel, Vash is seen alone, weighing apples in his hands at a mart, with crowds passing behind him. In the second panel, he turns to his right and starts to say, “Hey, Wolfwood...” In the third panel, he’s startled from seeing a stranger, whom he’d accidentally called out to when he was expecting to see Wolfwood. He says, “Oh, you’re not him. Sorry!” In the fourth panel, the stranger walks off and Vash muses, “Right, he said he had something to do today...”
The third page begins with a close up of Vash's miffed expression, the continuation of Vash's thoughts, "Now that he's not here, this is just like how I used to be, but... It feels lonely somehow. Oh well, I'll see him again tonight, like always." In the second panel, it shows Vash walking through the marketplace crowd, alone. In the third panel, the door panel is a close up of the door opening with a peek of Vash's head. He says, "Wolfwood!" In the fourth panel, Vash is holding a bag of food with a bright smile and says, "Are you hungry? I got you something to eat today!"
The fourth page begins with a shot of the room, two beds being highlighted, one of them being made properly with the blanket draped over the bed and the other with the blanket folded and pillow sitting on top of it. There's no sign of Wolfwood. The second panel shows Vash with a disappointed look as he thinks, "He's still not here?" The third panel shows Vash putting the bag of food on the table. Stapled to the paper bag is the receipt with a written note "For Wolfwood." Vash's thoughts continue "He does like to stay out so, I guess there's no reason to worry..." The fourth panel shows Vash sitting his bed somberly with his thoughts continued, "It's not any of my business anyway..."
The fifth page starts with a close up his blank expression as he looks downwards, thinking, "Even if he left completely... That'd be understandable and better for him. I'll just travel alone again... like before... Huh?" The next panel shows Vash's composure break, tears welling up in his eyes suddenly, as he didn't expect to cry. He starts to sob, putting his hands to his face to quiet himself and wipe at his tears, as he says, "Ugh... Dammit... I miss h..." The last panel shows Vash leaning over into his hands, still crying, and in the back, the door swings wide open with a bam as Wolfwood walks through with the punisher swung behind him. He shouts, "SPIKEY! You in here?!"
The sixth page starts with Wolfwood confused, looking at Vash and Vash looks back, just as confused, with tears in his eyes and snot out of his nose. Wolfwood starts saying, "Ah? You..." No longer in panels, at the bottom of the page, Wolfwood takes the Punisher off of himself and starts to walk towards Vash, continuing with slight concern, "What's wrong with you? Did something happen?" Vash, hurriedly begins to wipe at his tears, denying immediately, "No! No, I'm fine! Nothing happened!"
The seventh page, Vash points towards the table, with a hand still wiping at his tears and he smiles as he says, "I uh got you food. On the table." Wolfwood looks towards to the table and responds, "Oh. I was getting hungry, thanks." He turns his head back to Vash immediately after with an uncertain expression, knowing the other wasn't responding to his concern, and says, "But, I know you're an idiot with this stuff, so I'm reminding you again. Don't brush it off if it's an issue, alright?"
The eight page, Vash's tears have dried and he looks to Wolfwood with a soft smile and responds, "Yeah. It's okay though..." A panel at the center shows a side view of Vash approaching Wolfwood. At the bottom of the page, with no panel, is a close up shot of Vash's hand, holding onto the edge of Wolfwood's jacket sleeve, as he says, "Because you're here now. Wolfwood."
The final page is a back shot of both of them standing next to each other, Wolfwood's head tilted slightly to the left, not fully believing Vash as he says, "That doesn't answer anything, Spikey." Vash responds, "There's no need to talk about it! You should enjoy your food. Let's have a drink too?" Wolfwood responds, "Tsk, tsk. Fine, yeah. I could use one." END ID]
3K notes
·
View notes
Promises
He should know better.
Wolfwood has seen Vash make promises, or hear about the ones he has made in the past. He has also seen the end of each one and how every single time the outcome is less than what was promised.
Vash likes to say embellished words, with a soft and determined voice that lures you into his hopes and dreams, it almost feels like a spell, as if he was calling for you to come closer and believe him. But Wolfwood knows better.
He believes in him, but Vash is much closer to being an idealistic dreamer than a realistic person like he is. He might not be aware of it, but his beautiful promises of a better future give people hope, a hope that is usually embraced with things like disappointment and abandonment.
He doesn’t think that Vash does it with the intent of looking for any of those things. Far from it, he might even do the impossible in order to accomplish said promises, but life is too short and humans are too mortal for his wishes, so in the end, most of Vash’s promises end up being empty or they come to haunt him as a reminder of his failed vows. He admires the man, for his perseverance and idealism, but he also hates the man, for his stubbornness and lies.
Wolfwood knows all of this perfectly to a tee. And yet, he has also found himself being drawn to his world. Because he also dreams of it.
A world in where his always present calls for love and peace exist, a world that is far more kind than what he might deserve, a world in where the kids can be happy and roam around without any worry in their heads, a world in where he can peacefully turn grey with age and his hands can shed the harsh callouses of his life. Who knows, maybe a world in where he and Vash can finally know the peace that was taken away from them, in where they can share the calmness that comes with the passage of time, indulging in every tick of the clock welcoming with open arms whatever comes their way without any fear.
It is a beautiful promise. But Wolfwood is a person that has to keep his feet on the ground, indulging in “what ifs” would only make things harder than what they had to be. He can’t have any ifs if he can’t make it through the now. And by the way he is carrying his present, he is doubtful he will even get to see a shed of that promised world that Vash tries to drag him into. So why mourn something he doesn’t even have, or will ever have for that matter.
He hates the way Vash seems to promise things so easily. His tongue silky and pliant, slipping divine words one after the other, promises way too big for what that barren world can actually fit.
But when Vash talks to him in that holy voice of his, when he hears him say “It’s okay, everything will be alright, I promise” so gently right on his ear, while he holds his face so tenderly making him focus on him and nothing else, he wants to believe him.
He has seen the end of his promises. He knows how impossible they are. But for once, he wants to believe it too. Believe in that loving world that will cradle them both until they fall asleep, listening to the soft sound of the wind laughing while the moons smile upon them.
So he allows himself to indulge in the warmth of his palms, leaning into the comfort of his existence, feeling the soft air of Vash’s breaths against his skin while their foreheads meet in a touch that feels like a hot brand that will melt him.
For an instant, he allows himself to be selfish and believe that maybe, that is how living in that world Vash so desperately fights for would be. Soft and warm, making him feel safe in the hollow of Vash’s hands where the world seems to fit so well. A world where the blue sky is a blanket that covers the love and care that is nestled in it like the one in Vash’s eyes. He wants to see that world.
For now, he will selfishly think that the world that fits in Vash’s hands is right there in where he is holding him, where his blue eyes are drowning in the light of the sunset dripping with love and care while looking at him, that the gentle touch of Vash’s thumb wiping his tears is the same as the kiss of that laughing wind in that distant future, where the smile of his eyes overcomes the smile of the moons.
He should know better. But he loves the thought of that world. And he hopes that Vash will get to see that world, because that gentle sight is more fitting for someone like him than the one of his violent world.
He promises to himself that he will do what it takes for that day to be possible. Even if the end of that promise will be empty for Nicholas, he knows it will be a full one for Vash. So it really isn’t that empty for him after all.
He hates his lies, and he hates how true they sound, but Vash’s embellished words are far sweeter than his bitter thoughts so they feel better on his insides, almost like a balm that cares for the wounds of his throbbing, painful reality.
He should know better.
But aren’t humans weak at the promise of love?
1K notes
·
View notes