Hug

mizu5 was so triggering it made me nauseous for at least 12 hours and then i still felt really ill for several days,,

im glad a story like this was allowed to exist in such a big game

#mizuena

mizuena wip. something for the soul. i have like 20 wip god have mercy on my restless soul

devil

(tw for self-harm. this is extremely self-indulgent. read at your own risk.)

Devil.

Her core, her soul, the very depth of her being, was a creature that had no right to see the light.

Usually, she could fight it. Usually, she could resist it. Usually, she could deny it.

But nighttime was when her demons were strongest, and she couldn’t always resist their allure. It was so easy to give into those voices, those whispers at the back of her mind that assured her that these actions were necessary for her survival. The devil inside of her had kept her alive for this long, so why would it ever try to deceive her now?

Nevertheless, as Rika looked down at the blood welling on her soft, thin, porcelain skin, she slowly came to realize that for once, her devil might have grown a little too strong.

A sharp wail escaped her lips, and the offender dropped from her hand to the floor with a clatter. She immediately clamped her free hand over her mouth, trying to muffle her cries. She couldn’t, shouldn’t, wouldn’t accept this. She could brush it off. She could pretend it never happened.

She hadn’t ever imagined that her devil would take a tangible form, but it had left a kiss on her wrist that she couldn’t ignore.

“Rika?”

A voice sounded from outside the bathroom door, followed by a sharp knock. The sound managed to strike Rika’s core, piercing even through her foggy mind and her shaky body. Hastily, the blonde ran her hands underneath the sink, eager to wash away the evidence. Rinse, rinse… Maybe a splash of soap, to ensure she was effectively clean. She needed to scrub away the darkness that she tried so desperately to keep hidden.

But as she pumped the soap onto her tender skin, the stinging that resulted made her whimper despite herself.

“Rika?” the voice called again, a little more frantically this time. “It’s me, V. Are you okay?”

Rika began to scramble through the drawers and cabinets, knowing that somewhere, somehow, the couple must have had a first aid kit in here. V was cautious—almost overly so—and every time that Rika complained she felt ill, whether it was a physical or emotional pain, her lover always seemed to be able to withdraw some sort of medicine to soothe her, some sort of bandage to patch her up.

She usually refused, not wanting to mess with her mind or body in the slightest, but for once, she was willing to accept the fact that she needed assistance. Normally, she wanted to keep that devil alive and well, strong enough to defend her from whatever the world may throw at her.

This time, though, that savior inside her had betrayed her, and she needed to bring it back within her power.

“Rika!”

“I-I-I… I need…” She tried to sputter out some words, some sort of answer to V to let him know that she was alive and well.

Was she really well, though?

“… a m-m-moment,” she stammered at last. She thought the sentence came from her, anyway; that voice sounded like it belonged to her, but in her dazed mind and through her ringing ears, pounding with the vibrations of her intense heartbeat, it felt so far away, as though it were coming from somewhere else.

V didn’t respond to that; he fell silent, finally, and all that Rika could hear was a soft exhale. He must have been relieved that she had answered, as distorted and shaky as it was, and so he was willing to give her the space she needed until she was ready once again. He was always so considerate of her, always trying to appease her darkness and bathe her in a glowing light.

Normally, her devil resented that light, that glow, that searing heat… but Rika, for once, was grateful to know the sun was right outside her door, ready to banish away the demons that had overpowered her.

A little bit of pressure was all it took to stop the bleeding, and finally Rika allowed herself to crack the door open. She waved at him with her dominant hand, keeping the other one tucked behind her back. “I… I saw a bug.” Some woman’s voice was trying to excuse the shrieking that had taken place, and deep down, Rika knew that this feeble fib would never convince him. She wanted to be hopeful, though. She didn’t want anyone—not even V—to know the extent of her struggles.

But as V’s minty gaze flickered to her hidden hand, to the razor on the floor, and finally to the swelling around the young woman’s eyes, he looked as though he’d managed to piece together exactly what had taken place in here.

“It’s okay.”

How could two simple words break her down?

Rika at once leaned forward and buried her face in his chest, sniffling and sobbing. Her tears were soaking into his shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind. The young man just ran a hand through her soft curls and pulled her in at the waist, massaging little circles into the small of her back. “You don’t have to be strong for me, Rika.”

With a whimper, she lifted her head and gazed up at him with tearful emerald eyes. “I… She… I…” Who should she blame? Was this the doing of Rika, or of… something else entirely?

No, this was Rika. This was a part of her that she tried so desperately to keep hidden. The part of her that V had tried to kill, time and time again, by trying to force her to expose it and unravel it.

But right now, Rika was willing to throw herself into his arms, if only to hear the words she so desperately needed to hear.

“I love you, Rika. Nothing you do will ever change that.”

Could she trust his words?

At this moment, did she have a choice?

“Let me see.”

Immediately Rika leaped back, cowering away from him, clutching her wound in her good hand and turning away so that he couldn’t get even a glimpse. “It’s fine…” she murmured, but as she removed her hand from her wrist and saw the little specks of blood that splattered her fingertips, she couldn’t fight back the sob that followed.

“Antibacterial cream and bandages,” V suggested softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “We have some in here.”

The blue-haired young man withdrew a small tube of ointment and a box of bandages from one of the drawers, and Rika cursed herself silently for not being able to find them sooner. Begrudgingly, she held her arm out to him, and upon seeing the subtle raise of his eyebrows and the softening of his gaze, she felt tears begin to brim along the corners of her eyes again.

“V, you need to promise me something,” she whispered as he began to rub the ointment into her skin. The pressure against her wound made her flinch, but she bit her lip and tried to keep herself steady. “You won’t tell anyone, especially not the RFA. Not even Jumin.”

Concern and doubt flickered across his eyes, but V nodded slowly. “You don’t want them to see you like this,” he guessed.

“I’m their sun, V.”

“Sometimes there’s a solar eclipse, Rika.”

Their silence coated the air for a moment as V gently stuck the bandage onto her wrist, careful to ensure he could cover the entirety of her injury. It was small, but significant. It was dainty, but deep.

Rika couldn’t fight back the gasp that slowly seeped out of her lungs as her lover gently applied his lips to the surface of the bandage. “You are my sun,” he whispered as he pulled back, and he gently took her hand in both of his. “Nothing you do will make me stop seeking your light.”

Light… even like this? Was there any light in her at all?

“I don’t understand you,” she grumbled. “I don’t understand how you could love a devil like me.”

“I’m not asking you to understand,” he told her simply. “I’m asking you to trust me.”

With a nod of her head and a dull ache in her chest,

Rika leaned into V’s warm, comforting embrace.

With the power of love, and after a quick rest,

Maybe, her demons she would be able to face.

the blinding light of acceptance

i love this :)

devil

(tw for self-harm. this is extremely self-indulgent. read at your own risk.)

Devil.

Her core, her soul, the very depth of her being, was a creature that had no right to see the light.

Usually, she could fight it. Usually, she could resist it. Usually, she could deny it.

But nighttime was when her demons were strongest, and she couldn’t always resist their allure. It was so easy to give into those voices, those whispers at the back of her mind that assured her that these actions were necessary for her survival. The devil inside of her had kept her alive for this long, so why would it ever try to deceive her now?

Nevertheless, as Rika looked down at the blood welling on her soft, thin, porcelain skin, she slowly came to realize that for once, her devil might have grown a little too strong.

A sharp wail escaped her lips, and the offender dropped from her hand to the floor with a clatter. She immediately clamped her free hand over her mouth, trying to muffle her cries. She couldn’t, shouldn’t, wouldn’t accept this. She could brush it off. She could pretend it never happened.

She hadn’t ever imagined that her devil would take a tangible form, but it had left a kiss on her wrist that she couldn’t ignore.

“Rika?”

A voice sounded from outside the bathroom door, followed by a sharp knock. The sound managed to strike Rika’s core, piercing even through her foggy mind and her shaky body. Hastily, the blonde ran her hands underneath the sink, eager to wash away the evidence. Rinse, rinse… Maybe a splash of soap, to ensure she was effectively clean. She needed to scrub away the darkness that she tried so desperately to keep hidden.

But as she pumped the soap onto her tender skin, the stinging that resulted made her whimper despite herself.

“Rika?” the voice called again, a little more frantically this time. “It’s me, V. Are you okay?”

Rika began to scramble through the drawers and cabinets, knowing that somewhere, somehow, the couple must have had a first aid kit in here. V was cautious—almost overly so—and every time that Rika complained she felt ill, whether it was a physical or emotional pain, her lover always seemed to be able to withdraw some sort of medicine to soothe her, some sort of bandage to patch her up.

She usually refused, not wanting to mess with her mind or body in the slightest, but for once, she was willing to accept the fact that she needed assistance. Normally, she wanted to keep that devil alive and well, strong enough to defend her from whatever the world may throw at her.

This time, though, that savior inside her had betrayed her, and she needed to bring it back within her power.

“Rika!”

“I-I-I… I need…” She tried to sputter out some words, some sort of answer to V to let him know that she was alive and well.

Was she really well, though?

“… a m-m-moment,” she stammered at last. She thought the sentence came from her, anyway; that voice sounded like it belonged to her, but in her dazed mind and through her ringing ears, pounding with the vibrations of her intense heartbeat, it felt so far away, as though it were coming from somewhere else.

V didn’t respond to that; he fell silent, finally, and all that Rika could hear was a soft exhale. He must have been relieved that she had answered, as distorted and shaky as it was, and so he was willing to give her the space she needed until she was ready once again. He was always so considerate of her, always trying to appease her darkness and bathe her in a glowing light.

Normally, her devil resented that light, that glow, that searing heat… but Rika, for once, was grateful to know the sun was right outside her door, ready to banish away the demons that had overpowered her.

A little bit of pressure was all it took to stop the bleeding, and finally Rika allowed herself to crack the door open. She waved at him with her dominant hand, keeping the other one tucked behind her back. “I… I saw a bug.” Some woman’s voice was trying to excuse the shrieking that had taken place, and deep down, Rika knew that this feeble fib would never convince him. She wanted to be hopeful, though. She didn’t want anyone—not even V—to know the extent of her struggles.

But as V’s minty gaze flickered to her hidden hand, to the razor on the floor, and finally to the swelling around the young woman’s eyes, he looked as though he’d managed to piece together exactly what had taken place in here.

“It’s okay.”

How could two simple words break her down?

Rika at once leaned forward and buried her face in his chest, sniffling and sobbing. Her tears were soaking into his shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind. The young man just ran a hand through her soft curls and pulled her in at the waist, massaging little circles into the small of her back. “You don’t have to be strong for me, Rika.”

With a whimper, she lifted her head and gazed up at him with tearful emerald eyes. “I… She… I…” Who should she blame? Was this the doing of Rika, or of… something else entirely?

No, this was Rika. This was a part of her that she tried so desperately to keep hidden. The part of her that V had tried to kill, time and time again, by trying to force her to expose it and unravel it.

But right now, Rika was willing to throw herself into his arms, if only to hear the words she so desperately needed to hear.

“I love you, Rika. Nothing you do will ever change that.”

Could she trust his words?

At this moment, did she have a choice?

“Let me see.”

Immediately Rika leaped back, cowering away from him, clutching her wound in her good hand and turning away so that he couldn’t get even a glimpse. “It’s fine…” she murmured, but as she removed her hand from her wrist and saw the little specks of blood that splattered her fingertips, she couldn’t fight back the sob that followed.

“Antibacterial cream and bandages,” V suggested softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “We have some in here.”

The blue-haired young man withdrew a small tube of ointment and a box of bandages from one of the drawers, and Rika cursed herself silently for not being able to find them sooner. Begrudgingly, she held her arm out to him, and upon seeing the subtle raise of his eyebrows and the softening of his gaze, she felt tears begin to brim along the corners of her eyes again.

“V, you need to promise me something,” she whispered as he began to rub the ointment into her skin. The pressure against her wound made her flinch, but she bit her lip and tried to keep herself steady. “You won’t tell anyone, especially not the RFA. Not even Jumin.”

Concern and doubt flickered across his eyes, but V nodded slowly. “You don’t want them to see you like this,” he guessed.

“I’m their sun, V.”

“Sometimes there’s a solar eclipse, Rika.”

Their silence coated the air for a moment as V gently stuck the bandage onto her wrist, careful to ensure he could cover the entirety of her injury. It was small, but significant. It was dainty, but deep.

Rika couldn’t fight back the gasp that slowly seeped out of her lungs as her lover gently applied his lips to the surface of the bandage. “You are my sun,” he whispered as he pulled back, and he gently took her hand in both of his. “Nothing you do will make me stop seeking your light.”

Light… even like this? Was there any light in her at all?

“I don’t understand you,” she grumbled. “I don’t understand how you could love a devil like me.”

“I’m not asking you to understand,” he told her simply. “I’m asking you to trust me.”

With a nod of her head and a dull ache in her chest,

Rika leaned into V’s warm, comforting embrace.

With the power of love, and after a quick rest,

Maybe, her demons she would be able to face.

funny. it's so quiet here.

the noises in my head've died down.

The Untamed + Mo Dao Zu Shi + my own interpretation character redisgns - I’ve always disliked one thing or another about each adaptation’s design choices so I made my own as an amalgation of them all + my own flair. I love designing characters so much and I wanted to make them moredistinct from each other~

I can see you through my lenses

animatic wip

While the source material clearly intends Xue Yang to be read as an orphan (perhaps orphaned so young he has no memory of his parents), I think it’s underexplored in fandom that he never ACTUALLY SAYS that his parents DIED, but rather that he was a child without parents. 

“He had neither dad nor mom nor money” (via the official english translation)

I think there’s something in here worth exploring about the possibility that Xue Yang was abandoned by his parents. 

Perhaps he remembers one or both of them and/or the event, perhaps he does not but just has a sense of it having happened, perhaps he has no memories of it at all but it still psychologically impacted his development. 

Just about every character in the story can be better understood by looking at how they were raised, and Xue Yang is CERTAINLY not an exception. 

There are myriad ways to interpret his childhood (though none of them stable, safe, or cared for), but I have been thinking a LOT lately about how being abandoned by his parents could have shaped him into who he later became.

His behavior in the Villainous Friends extra (wherein he, seemingly arbitrarily, breaks things and antagonizes people and then specifically challenges Jin Guangyao about paying for damages) COULD be interpreted as acting out in a way that’s common for children and teens with a history of abandonment who are testing the waters of just how much their new guardian/s will tolerate. This sort of behavior can be a self fulfilling prophesy as well as an attempt to prove to themselves that their expectations of rejection or punishment are correct.

If Xue Yang has only ever known the world to be a painful place where people reject and abandon him, then that’s how he expects the world to continue behaving. If suddenly someone defies this expectation, it is simultaneously a fascinating and wondrous thing, and also a threat to his worldview. After all, if THIS person can be kind and care for him, then why didn’t anyone else?

If JGY, who at this point is essentially just his handler, can be unconditionally patient with him… then why couldn’t others have been patient with him over much less? And why couldn’t his own parents, who had considerably higher responsibility to him, be as patient as JGY?

It’s much easier to push and push and push until you break the patience and prove your cynicism correct, than it is to grapple with those painful questions. And after all, Jin Guangyao had an exterior force (Jin Guangshan) requiring him to show patience. And once that force was removed, so was Xue Yang. This, perhaps, felt as much like validation as it did betrayal.

There might be a parallel to be made here, too, about how JGY was and felt betrayed/abandoned by his father. This in common might be something that they bonded over.

And of course, as always, there’s Yi City.

Xue Yang expects Xiao Xingchen to abandon him, and his elaborate “revenge” was at least in part in preparation for that anticipated betrayal. He “knows” he will be betrayed and, perhaps unlike what happened with Jin Guangyao, he intends to be ready for it this time. Ready to punish Xiao Xingchen the MOMENT it happens, or ready to convince him not to betray him after all (what is “We’re not so different, I’m not uniquely evil, you’re ending our life together because you think you’re better than me but look! Look! You and I are the same now” if not a deeply misguided and utterly desperate plea?).

At some point he starts hoping it just won’t happen, and stops needing the “revenge” plot. When it starts unraveling before him, he tries for understanding first. What is “Hear my story, THEN decide–” if not begging to be understood?

Of course it doesn’t work.

Xiao Xingchen doesn’t even kill Xue Yang, either; he goes Away. Goes where Xue Yang can’t. If Xue Yang is read as having this particular trigger, Xiao Xingchen’s suicide may feel like abandonment all over again.

Perhaps Xiao Xingchen NOT killing Xue Yang becomes a parallel to Xue Yang’s parents abandoning him to suffer alone instead of keeping him or killing him. Or else maybe Xue Yang’s mother DID try to kill him (drown him or left him out in the cold) and he just managed to survive, in which case Xiao Xingchen NOT trying to kill Xue Yang puts him a cut above even Xue Yang’s own mother/parents.

Final thought:

While I find Xue Yang’s lack of familial connection to the rest of the cast compelling, I also find “what if” scenarios fascinating to explore, and “Xue Yang was abandoned by parents who might still be around during the story” does create some fascinating opportunities for fic.

Such as:

What if Xue Yang was yet another illegitimate son of Jin Guangshan? What if he knew but Jin Guangyao didn’t? What if Jin Guangyao knew but Xue Yang didn’t? What if Jin Guangshan himself knew? That would really put the insistent protections into a very weird light (is there a heart in there? Or did he think he could string Xue Yang along like he did Jin Guangyao? Or was Xue Yang blackmailing him?)

OR

What if Xue Yang was the illegitimate son of Chang Cian? It certainly puts a spin on that entire scenario. Little Xue Yang has another reason to want to please this man, and a further reason to feel betrayed by the abuse. Chang Cian not even recognizing him. Xue Yang taking revenge on the entire family because they ALL wronged him in a way he can’t articulate. Because they got to live the life he could have if he’d been wanted.

Certainly none of this is canon, but it’s not TERRIBLY far beyond the bounds of canon either, and makes for some juicy food for fic.