#And I'm not going to fault people for finding the angst compelling but man I am fighting tooth and claw to bring this man any happiness | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vera-king-hrfl · 2 months

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I'm not really sure how to introduce this one. It's a continuation of the Zevlor story that's quickly becoming a novel. But I'm posting it for you guys because it's kind of a snippet. It's after we find our man in the illithid colony, and he finds out what happened while he was enthralled. A brief warning. There is some angst, emotional pain, a little self-harm, and major feelings here. No smut in this one. It's also a pretty long scene. I did cry while writing it. I'm not sorry.

Tav is based on my current, who is a noble high elf silver dragon disciple. Highfalutin, I know, but that's what was in my head.

You approach Gale with a bit of trepidation. You're not sure if he'll agree, or even if your idea will work, but you have to try. Zevlor needs his people on his side. Or, at least, for them to understand what actually happened in those dark lands, when he was taken by the Absolute. But you couldn't be the one to do it.

As you move to stand near the wizard, sitting cross-legged on a mat and reading some dusty book you'd found in the house of healing, he looks up and smiles. "Greetings, Tav." Seeing the expression on your face, he rises with a look of concern. "My, you seem agitated. How can I help?"

You bite your lip and take a breath, then speak, your voice tight and apologetic. "I need a favor. If it's not... if you can manage it."

He nods, taking your hand and pressing it. He can be so sweet sometimes. "If it is in my power, I shall do my utmost. What do you need?"

You nod and squeeze his hand, grateful for his friendly devotion. "How are you with... mental domination?"

His eyes widen a little, but he smiles. "I can cast the spell. Depending on the intended victim, I suppose I could maintain it almost indefinitely, as long as there are no other distractions. The power and duration really depend upon my concentration and the target's resistance. But so can you. Why? Who are we dominating today?"

You worry your lower lip with your teeth again and shake your head before continuing. "It cannot be me. They all know... look, Gale. We both know how powerful the elder brain is... with an unprepared mind, it would be almost impossible to resist its influence. Is that right?"

He nods slowly. "Yes, of course, but... oh, I see." He catches on quickly, you reflect, as he works out for himself what you want. "Let me see if I can guess your thought process. I assume this is in reference to your Hellrider and how his people have been treating him since... all that. You want to show them that what happened was not his fault, and you think a little demonstration of that kind of power would be a good way to do that. You can not perform this feat yourself because of your known association with him, so you want me to make a tiefling stand on one foot or something to demonstrate how easy it is to lose oneself in the face of strong magic." He ruminates for a moment, looking thoughtful, then shrugs and smiles. "I don't see that it could hurt to try. Courtesy dictates that I must warn the person I am to control, but even then, I should be able to hold them to my will for some time. May I involve another of our group?"

You nod. "If you think it will help. I can't really keep secrets from any of you anyway. Who are you planning to bring?"

He squeezes your hand and nods decisively before releasing you. "I had a thought to take Karlach with me. She's a tiefling, and she well knows how it is to be compelled to do things she doesn't want. I will go immediately. I saw a group of refugees in the inn recently. I imagine they haven't gone anywhere. I shall do my best to make them understand. Who is the intended target?"

You watch Gale as he nearly bounces on his toes, seeming eager, as always, to demonstrate his skill. "Whoever is the strongest. But... well, don't hurt anyone or humiliate them too much. Just... never mind, you know what to do. It is in your capable hands."

Gale grins and bows. "My lady, I live to serve. Rest a while. You've been burning the candle at both ends lately, and you're a bit overwrought. Stay near. I'll come find you when I'm finished."

You watch him as he heads off to find Karlach and the other tieflings. You are overwrought, nervous, your concern over Zevlor and the refugees, the remaining Chosen, and the Elder Brain mingling and draining your mental faculties. You wander back to your own tent, sitting on a cushion just outside the flap and trying to meditate for a little while to clear your head.

After what seems like ages, but is probably closer to half an hour, you sense Gale and Karlach returning, open your eyes, and struggle to your feet, trying to read their expressions. As they draw near, you can see that they are both smiling. Gale with an expression of satisfaction and Karlach a cheeky grin, bouncing a little as she approaches. She looks around when she arrives, before speaking at half her normal volume. "It worked! You're a genius, Tav. Cal volunteered. He hopped on one foot and everything! Gale was even going to make him slap Lia, but I stopped him, so he grabbed Dammon with the spell too and made them dance together! There was nothing they could do about it." She slaps Gale on the back, and the wizard wheezes, but looks pleased nonetheless.

"Yes indeed," he continues with a smug expression. "Rolan has the strongest mind, but I do not think he would have taken my meddling with it lightly. So I thought maybe, if I dominated two of them at once, when they were prepared for it... and I made it quite clear that my powers do not nearly match those of the brain. I think it's had the desired effect. I believe Tilses went to look for him. She has been on his side the whole time anyway, and the others seem prepared both to apologize and forgive."

You blow out a breath and sag with relief. It was a long shot, and could have gone quite badly, especially with Rolan being so protective of his siblings... But hearing that your plan had worked was a welcome bright spot in an otherwise trying day. You pull them both into a hug, Gale grunting with wounded dignity and with the pressure of the grinning tiefling’s muscles crushing you both, thank them profusely, and then head off to look for Zevlor. Maybe this news would help with the deep depression he'd been struggling with since you rescued him.

The soft call of the scale you'd planted on him leads you toward Rethwin Town. As you approach the mason's guild, you see that Cerys, as well as Tilses, are standing near the doors, heads together in a fervent whispered discussion. You are opening your mouth to greet them when you're startled by a crash from inside, and the crunch and rattle of splintered wood. Cerys notices you first, and waits for you to arrive with a concerned expression. They're both looking at you nervously as another burst of noise echoes from beyond the half open doors, causing them both to flinch as you hurry over.

Noting your concern, Tilses raises her hands, palms facing you. "He's not in any trouble. At least, not from fiends or undead. His only enemy is... well, himself."

Your eyes widen. "Zevlor is making those noises?"

She nods, voice low, "yeah, the Commander is in a state at the moment. We came looking for him and heard the crashes... we thought he was being attacked. But... He's alone in there. At first he was shouting about being weak and unworthy, but then... well, he just started tearing the place apart."

You turn to go into the building, but Cerys catches your arm. "You might not want to go in there, Tav. He's unhinged. I've never seen him in this mood before. He might be... dangerous."

You smile reassuringly and pat her hand. "He won't hurt me." Though, with the sounds coming from beyond the doors, you're not quite so sure as you pretend. "Go back to the inn. Please. If... if anything goes wrong... I can defend myself, but I don't want you in the crossfire. Just in case."

They exchange a long look, but then nod. "Very well," Tilses says quietly. "If anyone can help him, it's you. We know him, but he may be embarrassed... I know he thinks very highly of you." She grips your arm, a plea in her eyes, and then she and the other woman move off, looking over their shoulders once or twice. You wait until they are out of sight, and then take a deep breath and turn toward the doors.

It is dim and dusty in the building, golden motes drifting through the newly revealed sunbeams that are filtering through holes in the battered roof. There is a flurry of movement in the back room, and you pass through the second set of doors just as Zevlor seizes a thick, rotten log from a cradle by the ruined fireplace and rips it in half with his bare hands. He casts the pieces aside and paces the width of the room, his hands shoved into his hair. There is blood on his face and hands, spattered on his dully gleaming armor, and a wreck of shattered crates and tools is scattered about. Your heart aches for him, but you hold your tongue for a moment as you sidle through the door and stand next to it, leaning your back against the wall.

He doesn't notice you at first, so great is his distress, and in the relative quiet, you can hear him whimpering to himself, his voice hovering on the raw edge of sanity. "I tried. I'm so sorry. I wasn't strong enough. They're dead. They hate me. They're right to hate me. It's all my fault. If I had only been stronger..." He grabs another crate and sends it hurtling into the stone wall, where it explodes in a shower of splinters and small nails. You turn your head, but don't move, feeling a few shards pepper the side of your face. He turns back to pace in the other direction, stumbling and nearly falling over as he finally catches sight of you. He freezes and his eyes go wide, orange rings in deep black, shining in the gloom. His mouth wags for a moment, but then firms as he turns his face away.

His words are a low, pained growl when he finally speaks. "You shouldn't be here." His hands flex, and you see that some of his claws are broken, his fingertips bloody. "I couldn't bear it if I... I killed them. Leave, before I..."

You stand away from the wall, approaching him slowly, staying well out of his reach, but preparing a shield just in case. "We both know that's not true," you say quietly, your own hands wringing at your robes. "You weren't in control of..."

He cuts you off with a roar, swinging his fist until it meets a supporting beam with a loud crack of splintered wood. The edifice sways, and dust and bits of ancient birds nests filter down from above. He's not a big man, but in this extremis he's terrifyingly strong, and you hope he doesn't manage to bring the whole roof down on your heads. "But I am responsible! I led them, it was me that... I..." He winces, looking at his hand in confusion, and you see the flash of white bone peeking through his scraped, ruby skin. Dark blood drips onto the floor from his torn flesh, drops scattering among the dust and ashes. "I wasn't good enough for them. I'm not strong enough, couldn't resist her. They're dead because of me. You don't want to associate... I've failed everyone. You deserve someone who..."

He stands there trembling for a moment before looking up and quickly striding toward you, raising his wounded hand to shove you back against the wall, your head hitting the stone so hard you see brief stars drift across your vision. He's on you in an instant, mouth crushing yours, bloody fingers pulling at your clothes. You feel all of his rage and shame and desperation as he kisses you frantically, his teeth cutting into your lips. You let him tear at you, neither returning his violent kiss nor trying to push him away. You're slightly dazed when he suddenly gasps and rips himself away from you. He pants, eyes blazing... "Gods I... I'm... you see? Im no good to anyone. I could have..." He reaches out as if to touch the drop of blood oozing from your bruised lips, a horrified expression on his face, but the lowers his eyes and drops to his knees before you. He covers his face with his hands and keens. "You don't want to be near me. Nobody wants to be near me. I see their faces when... you should leave me. I could never... never be good enough for... I'm not the man you..." he stops, shaking silently in the dust, ragged breaths filtering through his hands.

You stand still for a moment, stunned, but then slowly let yourself sink to the floor, sliding your back down the wall until you’re sitting before him. You keep your tone gentle, "I am perfectly capable of judging for myself what kind of man you are. Here." You reach out and, ever so gently, ease his hands from his face, being careful not to put pressure on the broken one. He resists at first, but then relents. You inspect his bloody hand, lamenting to yourself that you cannot heal him, but you let coolness flow from your fingers, hoping to soothe him and ease the pain into numbness. "Hold still," you say as you release his fingers and reach beneath the hem of your robe to tear a strip from your linen under tunic. He flinches at the ripping sound, but keeps his hand stretched out before him, breathing harshly. You carefully wrap the linen around his hand, sinking a deeper cold into his inflamed flesh as you delicately press on the exposed little bone, easing it back into place and pinching the skin together before wrapping his palm firmly and tucking the end of the makeshift bandage under itself. You cradle the wounded appendage and reach out with your other hand, cupping his cheek lightly. His eyes are wide, sparkling with unshed tears, his mouth working in shock, lip trembling. You lean forward a little to hold his eyes, keeping your voice soft, soothing, "you do not have to carry the world on your shoulders, my love. Let me take some of the weight. Come here."

A silent tear tracks down his ravaged cheek, but he allows you to draw him toward you, laying his bandaged hand on your lap and shifting him so he's sitting before you before pressing his face into your shoulder, lifting your chin to avoid his horns. He curls his tail around himself and hesitantly wraps his good arm around your back, and you hold the armored tiefling close as his lean frame hitches and trembes with silent, heart-wrenching sobs.

The fading beams have crawled a long way up the wall before a low voice nudges you out of your doze. "My. Aren't you two a mess." Zevlor is cradled in your arms, having fallen into a deep sleep after crying himself out. Shadowheart crouches next to you, her expression unusually soft, and looks you over. You know you must look shocking, with your lips bruised and cut, and little streaks of dried blood on your face, your eyes puffy from weeping with heartache over Zevlor's pain. She reaches out and brushes a lock of hair out of your eyes, dropping her voice to a quiet whisper. "We saw the other two return, but it took a while to get it out of them. We waited as long as we dared, and then I came because, well, I'm the most subtle." She smiles. "Good thing too. You look like you both could use a little attention." You nod and shift slightly, letting her see Zevlor's hand, wrapped in the bloody bandage on your lap. He tenses a little, tightening his grip on you and murmuring into your robe, but doesn't wake, such is his exhaustion. Shadowheart reaches out, very lightly touching her fingers to his, and whispers the spell. His breath hitches and he shudders as the tingling power filters through him, but then sighs, seeming to feel the relief even in his sleep. She heals you next, the sensation making your skin prickle with gooseflesh, but you feel the small cuts close and the bruises fade.

"Thank you," you mouth silently, and she nods, leaning back on her heels.

"We will leave you alone as long as you wish. We just wanted to know you were safe." Her expression becomes thoughtful. "You love him." Her own nod follows yours, and she reaches out to brush one knuckle down your cheek before standing. "I'm happy for you. Truly. I will tell the others you are both alright. Take as long as you need. You deserve to be happy." Her smile is almost sweet as she turns away and silently exits the room.

The last light is fading when Zevlor stirs against you. Slowly he turns, easing himself around in your grasp until his eyes, just a flicker of fire in the darkness now, gaze up at you. His voice is a husky whisper, "did you mean it? What you said, before. You called me... or, maybe I was dreaming." He closes his eyes for a moment and sighs, a soft, happy sound. "If so, it was a wonderful dream."

You look down at him with a soft smile and bend your head to place a light kiss on his full lips. "I did. And you are. Ai armiel telere maenen hir, Zevlor, and I can only hope you feel the same." He sits up, keeping his arm about you and chuckling softly, looking at you with undisguised adoration.

"I don't know what that means, but I think I can guess. I can see it now, in your eyes." He cups your cheek with a gentle hand. "Are you certain this is what you want? Me? Because, I know... my heart is yours for as long as I draw breath. I love you. So very much." You nod yes, and he slowly leans toward you, taking a deep trembling breath before pressing his lips softly to yours.

Zevlor kisses you chastely for a little while, his lips and hands full of tenderness, before placing a kiss on your forehead, and then resting his own against yours. "Very well, my lady. Together, then." His words are a feather brush against your lips. "But you need me at my best if we are to prevail in this... I will seek the Oathbreaker Knight."

#zevlor #bg3 zevlor #zevlor bg3 #angst #hurt/comfort #self harm #feelings #fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #Zevlor nation

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icharchivist · 6 months

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Ngl if I were in Lucilius's shoes back then I might have lashed out as well

He was happy being dead. He was fine with it. His suffering was over and he got to die at the hands of his favorite person. Lucifer rebelling against his creator was the last thing he saw so he died with vindication on his mind and a smile on his lips

And then all that was taken away from him and he was thrust back into this world, in a body that wasn't his and then learned that he would never get to see Lucifer again because he was killed to bring him back, even though he never asked for that

So he lost his peace and he lost his dear friend. Maybe that's why he's touching the scar like that in Rising

Belial is definitely to blame for his own misery, not because it's his fault, but because he keeps digging his heels in

They're super compelling in many ways. They're tragic characters from a lot of angles and interesting and raw and I can even see how you'd like to ship them, there's so much emotion there, it's like a powder keg

I get the rage from Belial fans especially, but yeah, Lucilius didn't ask for any of this. Now he's been brought back he has no choice but to either go for a murder-suicide with the whole world or die trying, because he just wants to hang in the void and not be here

Perhaps what they all need is therapy

Honestly??? yeah. completely.

I think the thing that strikes me with Lucilius's apathy, the reason maybe i'm a little defensive when the conversation on his apathy turns into this moral failing on him and all is that....

Lucilius' apathy, for me, is deeply suicidal.

The whole point of the difference between Astrals and Skydwellers is the fact that Skydwellers can find their meaning in the fact their life is ultimately finite - but Astrals have to move on, immortal, eternally.

If we can understand Belial's suicidal angst about how the ages are going to continue and he'll always be alone as a primal, i think we can understand that the same angst should apply to the Astrals.

And Astrals are not supposed to die. Astrals are supposed to keep going and living. And Lucilius himself lived this life with agony, always feeling like the life he was living was a joke, plagued with visions reminding him that no matter how he anchored himself into this world, there were stuff outside of his control robbing him of his own autonomy and agency.

And i think it's why Zero, the song, is so much more about how he prays for everything to return to the void, for Rebirth, pure white splendor, to restart the cycle.

the idea is that when the Omnipotent broke into two, with the astrals like this, this freedom in death was fully taken away -- and Lucilius wants this freedom back.

Ultimately, Lucilius' plan is all the suicidal wish of a man who cannot die, and as such, is driven instead into finding another solution that could replace death in this equation, without specifically doing anything to help him want to be alive. And Lucilius, especially, therefore wants to bring this exact salvation he's seeking to everyone. Not to help them, but to properly restart the cycle and to spite God.

The Primals are created immortals, because that's the only things the Astrals know how to do. Also Lucilius was creating the first primals of their kind. It's easy to project the Frankeinstein logic of "you should love your own creation and your own son" on how he made the primals - and it's the one reason people will never forgive Lucilius and i cannot blame them, because this is too relatable of a thread to let go of. But the point is still that... when you create the First Creatures Of A Kind, you don't exactly get to planify how things will go. Lucilius wasn't a parent who knew he was putting a new life into the world and should be responsible for it, he was a mad scientist who was trying to find a loophole to his inability to die by testing around and see if he could reproduce what God had done and eventually find an answer to himself. He didn't create the primals because he wanted to be a parent, a caretaker, or anything. He was making experiments to answer the bigger questions of his life.

He made plans using those in order to take down God, ultimately, his ultimate plan was to destroy everything, including himself. And then his beloved creation killed him. And i don't think he planned for that, but it gave him peace. It gave him the death his apathy has been seeking for his whole life. It gave him peace of mind that his rebellion was worth something, that there is something such as free will in the skies, that God couldn't control everything that was going on in his life.

Lucifer killing Lucilius was the achievement of everything Lucilius had worked for, and finally something that brought him the peace he had been working for his entire life.

And Belial couldn't live without him so he ruined all of that instead, and thrusted Lucilius right back into his previous plans, the others desperate outdated plans Lucilius had started before Lucifer gave him what he wanted in the end.

And it's not like it's untrue Lucilius had an impact on why Belial did all of this. Regardless to his reasons, he was Belial's creator, and the emotional neglect and its effects are still something that are on his hands. But it's clear Lucilius was never in a position to give Belial what Belial wanted or needed, and at this point, Lucilius never would have.

Belial brought Lucilius back, hoping desperately that this time, Lucilius would give him the love he always wanted. But in doing so he stole Lucilius' agency one last time, and he stripped away Lucilius' accomplishments. He brought back to life a man who only ever wanted to die, and just so happened to want to take the whole world down with him to make it worthwhile.

and it's why it's.... complicated, to me, when we see the scenes where he's not too hot about being brought back to life, how he ignores Belial's attempt at a hug in gbvs for instance, focusing on Belial's neglect while... Lucilius himself is being brought back against his will to start with yaknow?

And like. Belial deserves to have his emotional needs met, but Lucilius will never be able to be the one to give those to him. Belial is the one to ignore Lucilius' clear signs about it and still desperately asking him for this need and affection. He sets himself up to fail on that regard.

And it's sympathetic, and yes, it's something that can be heavily relatable for people who have been into abusive relationship, especially family relationship - the desperate feeling of coming back to a parent who was SUPPOSED to love you, but never gave you the love and yet you come back every time hoping for it, and they won't give it for you. And i know that this is the major reason a lot of Belial's fans will hold Lucilius responsible for it, and cannot blame Belial for wanting it this much. But aside from the fact that while the thematics echo those, Lucilius isn't Belial's parent and shouldn't be held on the same standard as a parental figure due to the specific of the fantasy system they're a part of, ultimately the conclusion to this type of thematic should be "you need to move away from the person making you feel this way. you can't keep asking them to give you water when all they can produce is oil.".

And meanwhile Lucilius has his own thematics to be accounted for, which i also think are worth compassion to a certain degree. "extreme level of alienation bringing you to a level of apathy for the world that lead you to suicide, destroying also everything around you you've ever created" is also its own tragedy that is worth the room to feel bad for. And on that level, someone constantly answering to someone being suicidal with "but you can't die because i need you, and i will make sure you will never be able to die because it's what I want, no matter what YOU want" is just as damaging for someone's psyche as the elements mentioned in the previous paragraph.

(also while relating to some elements, especially like that, is an important part of connecting with characters and everything, i do think it's really important to compartimentalize and understand that just because the situation is relatable, doesn't mean it has to be exactly in line with the way the reader got to live it. A story will first need to serve itself and its own themes before being a mirror. Relating to a situation is important, but ignoring how different the situation actually is because of that can lead to misunderstand the actual story being told.)

idk i'm kinda rambling now, i 100% agree with all of your ask over here though.

Ultimately both of them are super toxic with themselves, with each other, with everyone around them. They're deeply fucked up invidivudals who have reached a level of self destruction where all they can do is take others people down with them around them.

and they both probably just majorly need therapy. And if either of them wants to recover (which they don't), they need to be apart from each other because they bring the worst out of each other and they hurt each other by the fact they need extremely different things.

They make each other worse, and i think they both have reasons to resent each other for that.

There will always be the argument that as the creator, Lucilius has a powerdynamic though - which will always tip the balance in this conversation. But it shouldn't actually remove the fact that Lucilius is also suffering from it. Just the fact there is an imbalance at play doesn't mean that the elements which are pilling up outside of the imbalance aren't important to take into account to start with.

so yeah, team therapy.

#ichareply #ichafantalks gbf #anonymous

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hellhoundmaggie · 1 year

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5 comfort characters

Finally getting to this @cymatile. the notification email has been burning a hole in my inbox for weeks now and I'm glad to finally get to it!

The Beast/Prince Adam (Beauty and the Beast 1991) As a bookish autistic little girl, I of course identified very strongly with Belle. As a city kid in a small town, I still do sometimes. But as an adult, I find myself drawn to the other half of the pairing. Belle is of course a lovely young lady, and I appreciate how she only respects the Beast when he first extends respect to her. But let us face it, she is too perfect a character to be truly compelling. Beast is quite the work in progress, though, and that's what makes him so fascinating. You thrill as you watch him angst and snarl and throw his weight around -- first to frighten and threaten others, then to protect the woman he loves. You are charmed as he discovers joy and companionship, then mourn with him as he gives it up to return Belle's freedom to her. And you're just a little disappointed when he changes into a generically-handsome man, even if it does mean he and Belle get to live happily ever after. Plus, as the meme says: "I'll get that bitch a library. Bitches love libraries."

Shane (Stardew Valley) Okay, I've read all the criticisms many times. He starts out mean to you for no reason. He's a total slob and a sad sack. He never actually quits drinking. He looks like Ben Shapiro. And I gotta tell you: I cannot fault this very good chicken man for any of it. This is another guy that I feel no choice but to root for because he struggles with so many flaws. I appreciate that the game doesn't let you "fix" them for him: you only give him the help he directly asks you for. He makes the most important changes himself, and the stuff he doesn't change isn't a dealbreaker for me. Plus Shane kind of looks like my IRL spouse so I gotta love him just for that, y'know? I can't forgive him for liking gridball, though. As a nerd, jocks are my natural enemy. Sorry, I don't have a choice!

Entrapta (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power) Not a lot of people know this, but ND Stevenson called me up while he was developing the She-Ra reboot and asked for my input. I asked him, "Are you going to have a woman character with autistic coding in the show?" "Yes, we're going to have one of those," he said. "And is she going to have a special interest that few other characters in the show understand or empathize with?" "Okay, yeah." "Is she going to despair of ever finding genuine human connection and try to find solace in technology before learning that yes, there are people who care about her and value her uniqueness?" "Ooh, that's a good idea. Sure." "And can you pair her up with an angsty boy?" "I can definitely do that. Thanks, Maggie!" And that's why Reboot Entrapta is the way she is. You're welcome, everyone. 4. Wayne (Scarlet Hollow) I already post a lot about this guy, so I won't say much this time. I like him because he lets me explore the idea of being the subject of extreme passion and devotion in a way that doesn't put me in actual danger. I would never seek out that kind of relationship in real life, but love beyond proportion, beyond reason, beyond sanity is compelling in fiction. Plus he makes for some fun memes. 5. Mr. Pages (Fallen London) I love this big ol' nerd: its creative vocabulary, its book hyperfixation, and how bad it is at hiding the fact that it's not human. As soon as they put out the balance patch for Mask of the Rose, I am going to figure out how to smooch it, and you cannot stop me.

tagging nobody! Do this if you feel like it.

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the-darklings · 3 years

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I don't want to sound rude at all or like I'm telling you how to write your story, I'm just spilling my thoughts! :)

You write Santi so well, but how you truly like making him suffer in all of this angst is so ironic and I can't even explain it 🥺 Do you think him and V deserve a good ending with each other or V will let herself freely fall for grumpy? During the last few chapters, her emotions and feeling became clear and clear, especially with the gallery scene and after Santino got shot. How she hugged their joined hands to her chest always gets me emotional. (A normally non-emotional + Slytherin person speaking here) 🥲 She balances Santino in an excellent way and she is never afraid of giving him a piece of her mind.

I write as well and I can see the conflict and the hardships V going through. In my heart, I want her to rest and live her life a little bit after what happened with Tarasov and John. She is so so strong that it makes me with all the good things in the world for her.

If you think he’s suffering now, just you wait : )

But, I will say this: everyone in COA deserves to be free and happy, especially the main three. They all had their own arcs of struggles/suffering through their private obstacles, usually at hands of someone else. Obviously Santino’s story is just my interpretation of his past/motives in what was an attempt to give him a compelling arc overall.

I also think it goes without saying that Santino & V are very compatible - that’s been shown time and time again in multiple ways. However, I feel like people fail to realise that there are multiple and very good reasons why they hadn’t gotten together until now. It’s both their fault. V has very deep running traumas (outside of actual and quite severe ptsd) and she’s dealt with loss, trust issues, undervaluing herself and pretty sizeable abandonment issues pretty much her whole life. Now we also have identity crisis absolutely crushing what little sense of value she has managed to build in herself. Santino… well, Santino is Santino. I don’t think anyone can blame V for not trusting him with her heart. With him being known for backstabbing people, not valuing them and discarding them after using them. And yes, argument could be made that he’s different with her but in a real life situation… no one smart would trust Santino with his rep and those are just facts. Santino had to go through a challenging and very sour arc of his own to learn his lessons (price for pride, overreaching etc) and revalue his life. That was the whole point of me NOT leaving that bullet in his head. There’s more work to be done. So yes, while Santino may have loved V for years he was also not right for her for years. Compatible? Yes. Devoted? Absolutely. But not right. Still too selfish, too impulsive, too narrow minded and petty.

V without a doubt changes his worldview, challenges his values. She elevates him. Inspires him. Brings out the best in him. But he needed to become the kind of man who could elevate her. That’s why they hadn’t gotten together though they’ve known each other for so long. And yes, ch13 rocked both their worlds. Made them realise the value of the other in context of I came so close to never seeing you again. I think it’s very clear in subtle things in these last few chapters that the way V views Santino has shifted—that it’s gone past “I like him” to something she can no longer ignore. That being said, V is also in favour of always putting more paramount thing before herself (once again falling back onto her habit of seeing herself as nothing more than a pawn, expandable) so feelings, emotions, for anyone is on the back burner fo her right now. Also, y’know, the fact that she’s actively dying is also a pretty big damper on things. Even if she said something to Santino she doesn’t know how long she has left (if she doesn’t find an antidote) so telling him now would be cruel.

#also don’t worry anon!!! def didn’t take it as rude or anything : )#i love hearing reader thoughts/feelings on dynamics and characters! it’s always fun to have a chance to really expand on things #asks #anon #s: i can wait #coa deep dive

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