#(from here on i talk about the second two because the first is now irrelevant)

[spirirsstuff]

ughhhh why can’t songs be good the entire way through

[carriedawatermelon]

Doing some little kinktober ficlets because why not. Please find the first installment of soft Ronance filth, which in this case is not actually that filthy, below.

Prompt: Seven Minutes in Heaven

Someone bumps into Nancy for about the hundredth time, a shoulder jostling her own near the wall of the living room, which Nancy uses to brace herself. At least the girl—Megan, third grade, sixth grade, a few years of ballet and most recently, second period US history—apologizes, genuinely. 

“Sorry, Nancy. Too many people.”

“Too many people,” Nancy agrees and tries for a smile, which maybe works as she gets one in return. 

And there are too many people, and there’s too much noise, and Nancy knows the occasional, protesting throbbing behind her eyes is going to become a full-fledged headache soon, but still, she stays. She stays and makes her way successfully out of the living room and into the kitchen. It’s still too crowded but only with people moving through, grabbing beer and whatever godawful punch is on the counter as they pass into the backyard or the living room or the den, where a whole other mass of bodies has congregated to talk and flirt and try to pretend like this is a normal week-before-graduation party. 

It’s why she’s still here, that last part. Because it’s the week before graduation, and she’d been sitting with Hopper and Steve talking logistics two days ago and realized that the enthusiastically offered invitation from Becky, who like Megan, she’d known for most of her life and also hardly knew at all, would be the last one she ever got. Shit, she’d thought, absently correcting Hopper’s patrol map to accommodate for the newest construction. Shit, this is it. 

She’d had that thought many times over the last few years, in a life-or-death way. It was jarring, to have it in the way she was supposed to, in the way that pretty much every other teenager in Hawkins and if John Hughes was right, everywhere else in America, had it, too. 

“Steve, switch with me for Friday,” she’d said, and he’d done it, and now Nancy is leaning against a kitchen counter, wincing as something lukewarm soaks through the back of her pale yellow button-down and watching as her classmates do exactly what they should be doing the week before summer break. 

She doesn’t feel angry that they’re pretending, the way she had with Steve. Well. She does feel angry. She always feels angry. But for the most part, it’s not with the people around her. For the most part, it’s on their behalf. On Barb’s behalf. On her own, even, when she can let herself. 

They’ve all suffered. They’re the ones who stayed or came back, the crowded party at this point consisting of most of what remains of Hawkins High, grade irrelevant. Nobody is trying to kick anyone out, and nobody’s policing the door. 

As of about two weeks ago, curfew had been lifted. Officially, the army finally managed to secure the area after the earthquake. Unofficially, El had demolished a weakened Vecna, the party offering her backup in the real world and the upside-down and the space in between. The work that’s left is still left, but it’s eliminating stragglers and maintaining vigilance, and El and Will both have a kind of ease and confidence that makes the rest of them feel hopeful, that made Nancy feel like she could switch a patrol shift to Steve to go to a party. 

“Nancy,” someone shouts from the door of the kitchen. Ally, eyes bright with a plastic cup in one hand, shakes her shoulders. “Come play spin the bottle.”

In a small mercy, she’s being dragged toward the den before Nancy is forced to provide an answer, laughing an “Okay, okay, okay!” 

In a bigger mercy, her body is replaced by one that makes Nancy’s shoulders relax, a genuine smile break across her face. 

“I was going to ask if you wanted to sneak out back and smoke, but I’d hate to stop you from a game of spin the bottle with Hawkins High’s most eligible bachelors.”

Robin’s grin is big, her hands shoved into the pockets of her black jeans, an oversized green t-shirt tucked into the front under...Nancy’s favorite jean jacket. 

“Thief!” 

Robin’s grin grows. “Fair’s fair.”

And, well, Nancy can’t exactly argue. Robin’s black jacket is in her possession—currently neatly folded in the passenger seat of Nancy’s car—where it’s been since about two weeks after their first encounter with Vecna and where Nancy intends for it to remain until…until. 

She scowls anyway, pushing back from the counter and making her way to Robin, who stiffens for a second at Nancy’s hug before relaxing into it, wrapping her arms around Nancy’s shoulders and holding her close. The jacket smells like the detergent her mom uses and a little like Nancy’s perfume, but underneath is all Robin, lavender and cloves and the cigarettes her mom smokes. She can smell weed, too, and she pulls back a little to look up at Robin, who’s looking down at her with a faint blush. 

When Robin told her, fingers twisting and face paler than usual on the couch in her basement, that she likes girls, she’d put herself as physically far from Nancy as possible in the shared space. Nancy, heart broken as she listened to halting, stuttering sentences so far from the Robin she had grown used to, had tentatively scooted closer, lifting an arm in offer. Robin had hesitated for a second and then collapsed into her, crying while Nancy reassured her. Now, with Nancy’s constant encouragement, she’s getting better about touch, about initiating it and accepting it.

Of course, it is different now, but that’s Nancy’s fault. That’s because Nancy, as she has let herself admit for the past six or so weeks with increasing acceptance, wants to kiss her. She hasn’t yet and doesn’t now, but she does reach down and lace their fingers, tugging Robin toward the sliding door to the back. 

“There’s a Robin/robber pun here somewhere but I can’t quite get there,” she admits, happy to see that the crowd of their peers thins significantly after the deck.

Robin snorts, follows easily as Nancy begins pulling them past small groups of people and toward the grass. It makes her bristle, still, the relative quiet in the largely dark yard, and Robin squeezes her fingers like she understands, because she does. The house and the summer night give enough light to navigate well enough, and Nancy has her eyes on a set of lawn chairs that seem to have been abandoned by a group now moving back toward the house, but as she moves toward them Robin stops her. 

Her grin is pulled up at the side as she looks from Nancy to a tree with a tire swing and a set of boards nailed to its trunk. Nancy sighs, and Robin moves toward them, grinning, letting go of Nancy’s hand to pull at the steps and look up at the tree house. 

“Robin. No.”

“What?” She says, in a terrible attempt at guilelessness. 

“You know what.”

“I don’t.” She says easily. “I don’t know what.”

She shades her eyes like that’ll help her see in the dark, and Nancy rolls her own, stomach swooping with affection, before reaching into her bag and pulling out a flashlight. 

When it clicks on, Robin looks back at her and bites her lip. “Nancy Wheeler. The Boy Scouts have got nothing on you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nancy says, like she isn’t about to indulge a terrible idea. “Investigation purposes, only, Buckley. We didn’t survive the upside-down so you could break yourself climbing a tree.”

“Totally, totally,” Robin responds, like she doesn’t know Nancy is about to indulge her terrible idea. “I’m just gonna investigate these first few steps and, uh…” When the first two hold, she looks down at Nancy happily and keeps climbing. 

“You have no sense of self-preservation,” she calls after her. “Ms. Delayed Walker.”

When she reaches the platform at the top, she pouts down at Nancy, features a blend of shadows in the strange light. “That’s really rude, Nance. I think you should come apologize.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Nancy says, already on the second plank, flashlight shining up from where she’s tucked it vertically in her purse. It catches Robin’s grin, and Nancy stares, feels like she’s falling with her hands securely gripped on the wood. Robin’s not the only one who’s ridiculous. 

She pulls herself into the plank next to Robin, who wraps an arm around her waist. It’s reflex maybe, because the platform is small, and Nancy sees the flash of panic across her face so she leans into Robin’s body before she can pull away, hand moving to hold Robin’s against her. 

“If we fall out of a tree before graduation, I’m going to be so pissed at you.”

Robin laughs, squeezing her, and then begins scooting back, Nancy releasing her so she can make her way into the little house behind them. For all her talk, she wouldn’t be up here if she didn’t think it were sturdy. The climbing planks are relatively new, wood stained and smoothed against splinters, so she suspected the house would be, too, and she’s pleased to find that she’s right.

It’s big for a tree house, and tall enough that Nancy can almost stand comfortably, bent just a little to explore, fingers on the cross beams below the roof so she doesn’t bump her head. There’s a little table shoved into one corner, a window in each wall where she can see that the little platform they landed on extending around the house like a porch. When she turns around, Robin has made herself comfortable on some cushions against the back wall, a pink floral print that looks like maybe it was stolen from lawn furniture. She has a joint in one hand and pats the seat next to her before reaching into her pocket (Nancy’s pocket) for a lighter. 

There’s a lantern hanging from a hook near her head, two candles inside and Robin lights them as Nancy clicks off the flashlight and settles, close enough that their knees touch. Robin hands her the joint but keeps the lighter, and Nancy bumps her shoulder as she lights it. 

“Such a gentleman,” she says, before inhaling, and Robin rolls her eyes but blushes. 

Nancy doesn’t cough, though it’s still sometimes a close thing, the weed a post-Vecna addition to her life. It helps her relax and it doesn’t make her feel bad the way drinking does and it’s given her some of her favorite nights, sitting around smoking and talking and watching movies with Steve and Robin and Eddie and sometimes Jon or Vickie. 

She passes the joint back, and props herself back against the wall, lets herself look at the girl next to her as they smoke together for a little while, making aimless conversation. There’s something undeniably attractive about watching Robin smoke, the shape of it between her lips and the way they move as she pulls, the smoke that she exhales slowly, eyes exploring the little house. 

Eventually, Nancy asks, “How’re you feeling about next week?”

“Eh,” Robin offers along with another hit, which Nancy takes. “Weird. Fine. Nervous. Excited.” She brings her eyes back to Nancy, who smiles at her. “How ‘bout you?”

“Eh,” she echoes, and Robin pokes her gently. She’s warm, this close to Nancy, and she wants more, scoots closer, takes her hand and twines their fingers. Twirling the thick silver ring around Robin’s index finger, she feels Robin’s breath stutter, her own breath escaping with a happy sigh at their proximity. Robin mutes the joint and sets it against a Coke can. “Fine, I think. I feel good about what’s coming. Good about Chicago.” She squeezes at Robin’s fingers and Robin squeezes back. “Good about Chicago with you. I’m ready, I think. It’s not like…I didn’t exactly love,” she stops playing with the ring for a second and gestures out toward the yard, the house, “all of this. High school. You know.”

“Yeah,” Robin agrees. “Yeah, that’s for sure.”

Nancy presses closer, drops Robin’s hand in favor of wrapping it around her under her (Nancy’s) jacket, bullying her way into her side until Robin wraps an arm around her shoulders, laughing, thumb running a gentle up and down against her arm as they settle. 

“The ending hasn’t been so bad,” Robin says, pauses. 

Nancy can’t help but repeat, stoned and uncertain she’s heard correctly, “The ending hasn’t…” She can’t even finish, her voice cracking on what surely is a joke, and then they’re both cackling, clutching each other. 

“Dingus,” Nancy gasps, mostly in Robin’s lap now, and Robin groans. 

“I am. I’m a total dingus. ‘The ending hasn’t been so bad,’” she repeats, mocking herself, and Nancy tucks her head into her neck, laughing, Robin’s arms tight around her waist. “That’s what I get for trying to be smooth, I guess.” And then she shuts up so fast Nancy hears her jaw click. 

And maybe Nancy should be nervous, but instead all she feels is immensely pleased. “Oh?” She says, voice teasing as she pulls herself away, adjusting until she’s straddling Robin’s thighs. Robin looks terrified and also can’t stop staring at Nancy’s legs where they now bracket her own, eyes flitting between Nancy’s and their laps. Her hands are hovering at her sides, fingers opening and closing around nothing, and Nancy takes pity, full of smug affection as she takes them and puts them on her thighs. 

The noise Robin makes is something between a groan and a whimper, and it makes Nancy more than a little feral. 

“Trying to put the moves on me, Buckley?” She doesn’t try to hide the want in her voice as she lets her own hands settle on Robin’s neck, thumbs tracing the corners of her jaw. 

Robin finally holds her gaze, fingers spreading and squeezing at Nancy’s thighs. Nancy shivers. Robin squeezes harder. 

“Nancy.”

Robin’s lips are warm and waxy, the last of the vanilla chapstick she likes clinging on through their smoking. It’s perfect; she’s perfect, hands climbing to Nancy’s waist, where she holds her steady as she deepens the kiss, the taste of weed and lemonade and Robin filling Nancy up. 

“Nancy,” Robin says when they pull away, voice breathy. “What’s happening right now?”

The affection Nancy feels is almost violent, it’s so overwhelming, and she lets herself kiss Robin again, hard and quick. “Well,” she says. “You attempted one of the worst lines I’ve ever heard.” She keeps her tone teasing, and Robin closes her eyes and groans, head thudding against the wooden wall behind her. 

Nancy tsks, and Robin blinks open her eyes, blush in full force in the candlelight. She’s fucking gorgeous. 

“And it worked,” she says primly, moving a hand to Robin’s sternum, flattening her palm and feeling her breathe before tugging at the lapel of her (Nancy’s) jacket. “Because it appears I like you so much that I’m willing to overlook things like thievery and terrible come ons.” 

“You…you like me so much that…” And then she’s kissing Nancy again, less gently, and Nancy sighs approvingly, sucking at Robin’s bottom lip. Robin’s mouth moves to her neck, her hands shifting to Nancy’s hips to urge her closer, and she goes easily, moving a hand into Robin’s hair and moaning as her tongue and then her teeth find a spot that makes her hips cant.

“Fuck, Rob.” 

She pulls away, gasping, hands flexing on Nancy’s hips. 

“Do you…do you want…” She shakes her head, eyes closing, and Nancy kisses her gently. 

“I want to date you,” she says, watching as Robin’s eyes snap open. “I want to hold your hand while you talk to me about whatever the movie of the day is, and I want to fix your collars and leave lipstick on your cheek when I kiss you goodbye, and I want to ask you to stay over and have you know exactly what I mean.” 

“Yeah?” 

Her voice is small, almost scared, and Nancy channels as much love as she can into her own as she says, brushing a thumb over a beautiful cheekbone, “Yeah. Is that something you could want, too?”

“Yes.” A hand cups Nancy’s jaw. “I want that so much, Nance. I can’t even…I want you so much. I’m…it’s…” She laughs, running a hand through her hair. Nancy misses it. “Sorry, um, sorry. I just, I really can’t believe this is happening. Holy shit.” Her smile is wide, her eyes bright. “Nancy Wheeler wants to date me.”

Nancy laughs, tucks her hair back. She feels the flush in her own face and doesn’t hate it, for once. “Yeah, I really do.”

“You’re beautiful,” Robin says, and bites her lip. “Is that…I think it all the time, you know. Like, all the time. Like, yesterday when you got mad at that guy for turning without his blinker, and you made this face, and your lips did this thing, and all I could think was how gorgeous you were. And then tonight, when I showed up and you were leaning against the counter, and I could tell you were trying to figure out how you were gonna say no to Ally, you know, you have this, like, thinking face, and God, Nancy, all I wanted was to press you back against the counter and…”

She stops, catching herself, but Nancy wants none of that. “And what, Robbie?” She takes Robin’s hand and puts it back on her hip, greedy and pleased as she watches Robin’s eyes grow big, feels her fingers flex. “What did you want to do?”

She moans into the kiss, into the grip of Robin’s hands, letting her hips roll into the body pressed against hers. When her mouth moves to her neck again, kissing and sucking, Nancy throws her head back and holds Robin close. 

Hands move from her hips to the buttons of her shirt, tentative, and this had probably been the conversation Robin wanted to have earlier, about what Nancy wanted.

It takes an incredible amount of willpower but she manages to pull back, panting, tilting Robin’s face to meet hers. Because Nancy will absolutely let Robin fuck her in this treehouse, but Robin’s a virgin, and she deserves better than cramping hands with their clothes still on. Nancy has plans. 

“Come home with me.”

“Okay,” Robin agrees immediately, head bobbing eagerly, and Nancy grins, kissing her gently.

They tidy themselves as best they can, hands untangling as they reach the house again, and the party’s still in full swing, loud and bright and smelling like cheap beer and fruit punch. 

They pass by the group playing spin the bottle on their way out, a series of shouts coalescing into a chant as a couple is sent off to the closet for seven minutes in heaven. 

Robin shakes her head. “Nightmare,” she says under her breath, and Nancy laughs. 

“I don’t know.” She grins at Robin and uses the crowd as an excuse to grab her hand again, keep her close. “I feel like you’d find lots of jackets to steal.”

She doesn’t need to see her to know her eyes are rolling. “I would bet 20 of Steve’s dollars that my jacket will be in the passenger seat of your car when we get there. The hypocrisy is heavy, Nance.” 

“So, what?” She shrugs as they break through the front door, making their way to Nancy’s car up the block. “I like wearing my girlfriend’s jacket.”

It’s quiet, and Nancy’s worried for a second that she’s overstepped, but when she looks, she finds Robin staring at her with heat in her eyes, her jaw set. 

“I bet,” Robin says, looking around and keeping close to Nancy, voice low, “I bet you’d look great in that jacket and nothing else.”

Nancy swallows, stops as they reach the car. “Wanna find out?”

[unsweetingtea]

The Sonic Movie 3 trailer came out and it is awesome!

I know it came out a week or so ago and I might be late into talking about it but rest assured I watched it 30 minutes after it came out.

I decided to start talking about it now because I want to put in my two cents about a certain topic.

At some point in the trailer we get this image of Tom:

He’s screaming “Sonic!!” and then it immediately flashes to this image of Shadow:

There is also this interaction with Sonic and Shadow:

“What did you do?”

“What I had to.”

First of all, f🤬cking aura Shadow, holy sh💩t. That “what I had to” sent shivers to me timbers.

Second of all, why I’m making this post:

This has led people to believe that Shadow might harm Tom in some way or even killing him.

And I don’t think that is true.

Do I think that they might tussle around? Yeah. Do I think Shadow will straight up assassinate him? Hell no!

CONTINUE UNDER THE CUT ⬇️

Now, I have seen people believe it and draw it but more as like a “this is a cool alternative but I don’t actually think it would happen”, but then there are others who genuinely believe that Shadow is going to kill Tom.

While there is nothing wrong with believing that, it raises a problem for Shadow’s overall character.

We all know Shadow is just misunderstood. Especially from Sonic, Knuckles, and Tails. Keep in mind that they are working with the very people that killed Maria—a little girl, Shadow’s best friend, and they have no idea 😀

I feel like if Sonic finds out about it, then there will definitely be conversations yet to happen, and not very friendly ones.

I kinda think this might be an image of Sonic looking around the Ark. Maybe this is when he finds out? However, that is not something I can really prove:

One thing I will say: even though if we were in Shadow’s position and we might try to kill humanity too, I think we should all acknowledge that even though we can understand him it doesn’t mean we should agree with the path he has walked down on.

Anyway, Shadow = misunderstood. Got it. That is all a story for another time, I’m still here for something else.

I think we can all agree that Shadow has been through a lot, and I think some of the games do him justice for the way he makes up for his actions; finding out who is he is and honoring Maria’s wish, sacrificing himself and falling down to earth, going against Black Doom’s wishes, fighting Memphis, saving Sonic (multiple times), him and Team Dark, the Archie comics, and more.

We’re gonna ignore the Boom!Shadow for this one boys. He’s irrelevant. (lol)

While Shadow and Sonic aren’t friends or enemies, they’re by each others side to do the right thing. All Shadow wanted to do was the right thing and at the time he believed it was killing humanity.

I think what I’m trying to say is that Shadow has done some villainy sh💩t under the influence of what people showed him back to the accident of the Ark. However, he is not a bad guy and he doesn’t deserve to be the bad guy.

If they do this, if Shadow kills Tom, he will be an irredeemable monster to Sonic and even to me, and Shadow doesn’t deserve that treatment.

I don’t want to look at Movie!Shadow knowing that he killed an amazing character and the father to Sonic.

I also want to say, that when Sonic is talking to Shadow and asks him what he did, he sounds mad but he doesn’t sound mad enough to the point of Tom’s death kind of mad. Sonic would be f🤬cking furious. He would fr say “screw the power of friendship I’m about to END this B🐶TCH”.

I can’t say for certain that Tom isn’t going to die, but I really don’t think and want to believe that Shadow is going to be the one to kill Tom.

Like I said before, it’s tragic for what happened to him but we shouldn’t justify the path he’s walking on. Killing Tom is no excuse either.

I just don’t want to be disappointed. I have been looking forward for this movie for too long. I really just want Shadow to be the sweet little anti-hero he truly is.

While I’m here, I wanna circle back around to Tom screaming Sonic’s name. First of all, Tom is in a G.U.N uniform. Either he’s going in disguise or maybe the commander guy whose name I don’t care to remember gave him a position in the G.U.N forces.

In the first Sonic Movie, Maddie did say that there has been a Wachowski serving and protecting for 50 years. The same amount of time Shadow was in a coma. Maybe the commander recognizes Tom’s last name and offers him a position.

Maybe Sonic and co. find out about what they did to Maria and the Ark, and when confronting G.U.N, G.U.N decides to turn on them. Maybe that’s why Tom was screaming Sonic’s name, because he was about to get hurt. Remember, even though Sonic saved the world in the 1st movie, in the 2nd movie G.U.N still believed they would be a threat. Maybe G.U.N is using them in hopes they won’t find out about what happened 50 years ago. They’d be perfect against Shadow, they’re the same species! (Kinda…)

If G.U.N can’t defeat Shadow, maybe another powerful being can.

Anyway, those were my two cents.

Don’t take this post too personally please, if you wanna believe Shadow kills Tom, then by all means go off! I just wanted to show my perspective of things and how I see Shadow as a person.

Remember, opinions are opinions and we shouldn’t devalue anyone’s just because we don’t agree.

Take care! 🫶🏻

[anxious-witch]

Part three of height/stance analysis of DBDA character. This part is about the Cat King, mainly in regard to catwin, but I will briefly touch upon his few scenes with other characters too.

Charles's version, Edwin's version

So, the Cat King another character that take a dominant position in most of his scenes. Immediately, when we meet him, he is sitting on a throne, above Charles, Edwin and Crystal, which is meant to intimidate them and to show off his power over the situation. Focusing on that specifically, now we can notice a pattern-Charles gets lowered when he is feeling helpless, Edwin when he feels out of control and the Cat King when he actually loses the dominant role of the scene, aka the events aren't unfolding as he planned. Which are similar, but not exactly the same, which tells us a lot about each of them.

The Cat King is a magical being of unknow origin, so it makes sense his sense of self is tied into power. From what I noticed, that power comes from either intimidation or desire, or sometimes both.

So let's go back to the first scene where he appears. Crystal and the boys are naturally, intimidated by him, which is further exemplified by the fact that the Cat King doesn't even rise from his chair, and yet keeps his high ground.

When does he rise? When he is about to offer Edwin a private conversation, taking control more directly that way.

But notice the camera angle in this scene. Not only does it not show the Cat King and our trio(because we know very well both Charles and Edwin are physically taller, but it also shows him from a slightly lowered angle of the camera, so he appears bigger. Almost as if he is looming over them. Then, once he and Edwin are alone, we get to this.

The first time where the Cat King looks smaller than Edwin. BUT, take a look at Edwin, who is usually standing oerfectly poised and straight, looming over everyone and everything. Here, he looks almost slightly hunched down instead. But why is the Cat King smaller here, you may ask? Because he is trying to find Edwin's weak spot. He even says here "What should you punishment be?" Only when Edwin counters with "I don't see the harm in one little spell" does the Cat King resume his dominant position.

Looking at this two shots, Edwin looks almost timid, his usual height deemed irrelevant when he is alone in the shot, almost bledning in with the dark background. In contrast, the Cat King is illuminated, appearing bigger and more threatening, further highlighted by his satisfied expression.

This is followed by a scene where CT slaps the bracelet on Edwin.

When the Cat King leans in, die to the angle it looks like he is taller than Edwin. Because he figured Edwin's weak spot-his repressed sexuality. And here, Edwin is giving in to it, giving the Cat King the power to put the caging spell on him.

What I found interesting is that immediately after, the Cat King willingly sits down in his chair, leaving Edwin standing. He seems to work under a careful set of rules so once he brands Edwin with his bracelet, he briefly gives the power back to Edwin, in giving him a choice to give in to his desire. I talked about this in another post here, but the gist of it is that the Cat King forces him to choose between giving in to his desires(accepting his homosexuality) or face his flaw(his dismissivness of creatures and ppl he finds irrelevant to him).

Only when Edwin refuses to reclaim him power in accepting his inital offer does the Cat King rise again and assumes his dominant stance.

Now, let's analyze their second meeting. When Edwin arrives, the Cat King is lounging on the wall, lying down. He is still on a higher ground, but I find it interesting that he again, gives Edwin a chance to reclaim his freedom first. And he does so twice. Firstly, by giving Edwin a chance to tell him how many cats there are, and when he is wrong, to go along with his flirting. And when he doesn't, then the Cat King rises once again.

When he gets close to Edwin, we have, again another shot where CT looks taller. Because Edwin feels out of control when he is around, because he feels small in the face of his own desires. And the Cat King is aware of it.

Now, the firest scene is when things TRULY get interesting. By this point, we see Edwin gain much more confidence in himself and his feelings, partially due to accepting he has feelings for Charles and partially bc of his friendship/situationship with Monty. So when they meet each other in the woods, we get this shot.

Not only is there a very noticable height difference we weren't show before, but the Cat King is actively leaning down, leaning towards Edwin as he reveals Monty's betrayl to him.

Why? Because he realized Edwin was well on his way in winning his game. So here, he is trying to find his footing again, trying to appease Edwin. And I'd say he almost suceeds, because for a brief moment, when he is talking about Edwin owning him a thanks, they are on equal ground, height wise. But then, CT brings up a second kiss and that balance shatters. We get this shot:

Of Edwin cockying his head up and making himself appear taller, despite the camera angle not working in his favor. And of course, we then have Edwin walking away, with the camera showing how small the Cat King is in that moment as he makes his threat. Edwin turns back and then he is the one lowering himself on the Cat King's level to show off the bracelet and remind him that's all that he is to Edwin.

Reminding him that while Edwin can stoop to his level, they are not equal, and that Edwin understands his game now and that he is done with it. He took his power back.

I find the fact that their power dynamics are shifting sm throughout these soo fascinating, honestly. Their rs is so dynamic and it's shown so plainly through who is appearing bigger in that moment. But! Let's shift from catwin for a bit and take a look at another character that manages to be more dominant in a scene with the Cat King. Which is, of course, Esther.

Cat King tries his usual approach with her, with him sitting on his throne and not paying attention to her entering, but Esther clearly doesn't fall for that intimidation tactic, instead grabbing him by the throat and forcing him in a position where she is in control. It's not only violent, it feels almost degrading, given the way she does it and given what we know of the Cat King thus far.

And the thing is, even when he escapes her grip, he relinquishes the power to her, leaving her up on his throne while he is left standing down next to it, as people who usually visit him do.

I don't think I need to get into her literally killing him with her cane, and how he is literally at his lowest when he is lying on the floor. And even when he is resurrected, from then on, he seems noticably smaller in every other instance he appears in. Like he lost a fraction of his power. And even when he snarls at Esther and tell her to keep her hands off Edwin, the shot he is in purposefully makes the warehouse seem much bigger around him, while the shot of Esther is much closer up. Because she is a more threatening figure here now.

When Crystal and Niko come looking for his help, at first he appears behind them, as if he had to sneak in to his own warehouse. He gets back on his uplifted position later, when he does decide to help them and when he realizes he holds the power of having the information they want. But notice how he orders them to sit, so he can loom over them more. I'd guess that he has been made aware of his own vulnerability and powerlessness by Esther and he tries desperately to reclaim it in that moment.

Which is why his last scene with Edwin is so impactful! They have both been irreparably changed by circumstances. Where Edwin now stands taller, his confidence and power regained, Cat King looks almost comically tiny in comparison!

Look at that wide shot of the alley! Edwin's height is not only shown fully, it's amplified, and the Cat King's tight fitting clothes are making him seem even smaller and more vulnerable here.

Because in that moment, the illusion is fully shattered. Edwin calls CT out on his own loneliness and they are both aware he lost the game, because he is the one that fell for Edwin and he has nothing to keep him with anymore. But Edwin has grown too. He doesn't gloat in his power and in fact, when he kisses Cat King's cheek, he lowers himself on his eye level, so they are equals once more, in that brief moment. This time not doing it to hurt the Cat King, but rather to show affection and forgivness. He understands him now and he holds all the power.

Honestly, if we get a Cat King reappearance in S2, I'd love to see how their relationship would change. They are the ones whose relationship is the most dynamic and it's constantly about who will gain the upper hand.

As always, if anyone has anything to add/think I forgot something, olease feel free to add it

[fulloftheloveyouwant]

Shedding season

Summary: Mountain is going through the most frustrating season for an earth ghoul, winter. The early and middle days of winter are over and on comes the late days of it, which is when antlers shed.

He's itchy and miserable. Swiss offers his assistance in a multitude of ways and Mountain starts talking about some ideas he's had. Many fall through but Swiss is willing to try one of them.

Warnings/Tags: anal sex, anal fingering, breathplay, choking, blood kink, overstimulation, orgasm edging, inappropriate usage of quintessence, blame Swiss (of course..), inhuman ghouls, and general inappropriate use of elements. Oh, and a singular bite.

Rating: Explicit, MDNI 18+

Length: 5.7k works

Notes: Originally posted on my Ao3, admittedly I had no plans for these two at first but um.. Rain and Phantom wasn't working out for what I was originally working on so here we are. Almost 6k words later.. And here we are. Guilty as charged for this one, it's mostly all porn.

Well, the season was here. Shedding season. Winter is in the later months, his antlers have served their purpose after becoming bone and now they were itchy. Sooo damn itchy. It seemed like every few minutes he was scratching them against something.

Nothing relieved the itch because of course it wouldn't, but he still tried anyway. Rubbing up against trees with your head is only so fun after a while, yet here he was miserably scratching against the tree hoping today would be the day they both fall off. He'd even take one if it meant the itching stopped.

He groaned, feeling no relief. He moved his head back before letting his forehead drop and rest into the bark of the tree, he's about as angry as this tree is. Although the tree is angry about the lack of water and not about having a pair of antlers. Trees don't grow antlers. Obviously. Unless they do.. Then that's news to Mountain.

He was still standing there, deflated against the tree with all sense of hope that his antlers would ever fall off quickly leaving him. His tail that had been swatting at the air had hit something tangible which made him turn around in surprise, only to see Swiss who was busy eating a salad wrap and looked confused at what Mountain was doing.

"My antlers won't drop so I'm trying to encourage them to drop faster." Mountain explained, miserable mood evident in his voice. They'd just become even more itchy over the past few days and it was near unbearable, but it also meant they were close to dropping. Swiss finished his last few bites before speaking.

"Did you need help? If I can help..?" Swiss offered, "If you feel like scratching the base for hours be my guest.." Mountain muttered back, a frown on his face.

Swiss was more than happy to take Mountain back inside specifically just so he could go help release some of that discomfort, in two ways- Second way was irrelevant for now but the first way was simple, just scratch 'em!

Once they reached Mountain's room, Swiss admired the scene. Mountain's room was a beautiful converted sunroom situated on the more private side of the church, not many people went by this way if at all. So the sights were pretty and secluded..

Swiss always had to stop and appreciate how nice Mountains room is. Lucky earth ghoul..

They both climbed into his bed, Mountain was careful with how he situated himself in Swiss's lap. Once comfortable though he curled up, his tail wrapping around his own leg as he let Swiss scratch quietly at the base of his antlers. It soothed the deep seated itch he'd been dealing with for at least a week.

Swiss was grinning watching Mountain go from being moody to being sleepy by the second, in calm moments with the others he falls asleep the easiest and right now he needed all the rest he could get after trying all day and night to remove his antlers. They still hadn't dropped but he had faith they'd drop eventually.

Swiss let Mountain sleep, keeping one hand grazing his nails on the base of his antlers as the other one fished his phone out of his pocket to scroll on social media. You wouldn't believe how much they had to beg Copia for WiFi, the previous ghouls didn't think it was necessary!

Anyway, their incessant begging (whining) worked and now they have pretty damn good WiFi if Swiss says so himself.. He tends to be the most involved with the internet, at least when compared to the others.

A few hours passed by and Mountain finally awoke, moving his head and accidentally nudging Swiss in the stomach with his antlers. "Back up?" Swiss asked as he ignored the sensation of being poked, he turned his phone off, he'd have to finish watching that video later.

"Mmm.. I don't even want to get up." Mountain complained, his eyes still closed as he continued laying in Swiss's lap. "Well, you don't have to get up if you don't want to." Swiss reminded, free will and all. Wonderful thing really. "I didn't water my plants today." Mountain says back, "So? They'll be okay for one day. You of all people should know that." Swiss teased, he pocketed his phone and pet Mountain underneath his chin.

This made him start purring, a rather elusive noise from ghouls but it does happen. His other hand briefly scratched the antler's bases again, as Mountain's purring got louder. Swiss chuckled seeing Mountain's blissful expression, "Enjoying yourself?" Swiss teased, "Very much so." Mountain mumbled back.

After several calming minutes, Mountain sat up. Stopping Swiss completely, he yawned and stretched his emerald eyes opening back up as he looked over at Swiss. Swiss reached out to cradle Mountain's freckled cheeks, "You're sooo cute. Be lucky Copia thinks it's immoral for ghouls to eat each other." Swiss says with a massive grin.

"You'd eat me if Copia didn't ban it..?" Mountain questioned back, Swiss's choice of words had stupefied him. "Uhh, next question?" Swiss then says, tilting his head as he closed his eyes with a smile. Reason 682 why Swiss is horrifying: May or may not be a cannibal.

Mountain laughed at his mental comment, Swiss was just being playful. At least Mountain thinks he's just being playful but then again, if any of them turn out to be cannibals it'd definitely be Swiss. Swiss released Mountains face, Mountain gave him a curious look but Swiss was staring out at the windows watching the sun go down.

"Seriously, no fair he gave you the best room!" Swiss groaned, "I need it for my plants." Mountain says back, his room was appropriately covered in plants. "They have to be exposed to the sun to grow-" Mountain explained, "I know that! But you still have the prettiest room." Swiss says, falling back into the pile of pillows near the headboard.

Mountain laid beside him, "Do you remember what we had talked about a week or so ago? About wanting to try something new?" Mountain says, he was wide awake now. Clearly something has caught his interest, Swiss hummed. "Yeah, what about it?" Swiss says back, his own brown eyes landing back on Mountain who was staring adoringly.

"Can we try something from one of my books?" Mountain then asked, "Your books? Love, aren't most of those about gardening techniques?" Swiss says with a laugh, Mountain's face turned to one of brief confusion then he lightly shook his head. "No, they're hard eroticas." Mountain corrected plainly which in an instant made Swiss choke on his air.

"What?!" Swiss spat out as he sat back up, now violently coughing. Mountain aptly also sat back up, "I thought you knew. Maybe you all just don't pay attention.. I know the ghoulettes know." Mountain says, a contemplative tone in his voice. Once Swiss stopped coughing and choking, he looked at Mountain with a mixture of horror and interest.

Mountain never really talked about what he was into, mainly because it's generally too extreme for his close relationships and he doesn't plan to terrify or horrify anyone with his interests. So he's been all around the board known as the "vanilla" one.

He doesn't role-play, he doesn't get in costumes, he won't use toys generally, he won't even take risks. You can imagine why this is so shocking to Swiss who had a perception of Mountain being the closest thing to a reserved maiden out of their pack. He won't even send nudes or do dirty talk! Even Phantom does both of those things..

Swiss was astounded, now he needs to really know just how kinky their gentle giant is.

Mountain was more than glad to go through just the books in his room, he did warn Swiss that a lot of them were downright terrible or just disgusting but Swiss thought he could handle most of them. He in fact could not. They cycled through dozens of books, each one having extreme kinks in them.

By the end, Swiss was traumatised that Mountain was in fact not gentle at all and probably wanted to be gang banged viciously by all of his partners.

"What the fuck?!" Swiss finally exclaimed once it was all over, "I was hoping you would've said yes to the tentacles.." Mountain expressed his disappointment quietly as he meandered back over to the bed and collapsed in it. "The tentacles were objectively the most normal part of all of that!" Swiss says, still breathless from the scene.

Mountain just shrugged, reclining beside Swiss once more. "Can we still do something at least?" Mountain then asked, while his antlers may not be itching like crazy anymore he still had a different itch he wanted to scratch. "As long as it's not from anything you read, suuure.." Swiss says cautiously, those books are going to be burned into his memory now.

"Well- Those are mostly just fantasies anyway. That's why books are fun." Mountain clarified, "Yeah but you read them in your hammock when outside, I never expected them to be eroticas like that." "You never asked," Mountain shot back. "That's probably a good thing now that I know." Swiss says, a weary smile on his face.

"It's not all I read anyway, I really like fantasy and fluffy romances." Mountain says, sounding like he wanted to go curl up with a book right now. "Uh huh.. After all that?" "I'm varied in tastes." Mountain defended, despite Swiss's shock once he settled more he's sure he could act out some of the kinks the books had with Mountain later on.

By all means despite Swiss's disbelief he was arguably just as bad as Mountain but he tends to actually explore said concepts unlike Mountain.

Swiss cleared his throat and his mind alike as he focused, "Anyway- What did you want to do?" Swiss asked, the blush on his face fading since Mountain was no longer reading out explicit excerpts from books to him. "Can we try using your quintessence and air elements while you ride me?" Mountain asked, oh how direct.

"If that's what you want?" Swiss says back, the directness was at least appreciated. Dancing around it wouldn't help either of them. "Yeah, you can choke me. Just be.. Careful." Mountain confirmed as he sat up, "And the quintessence?" Swiss questioned not wanting to go too far without Mountain's permission.

"Do whatever you'd like." Mountain replied back, the room was now covered in the blanket of night as outside was illuminated by the stars and the moon which was the only light they were receiving. "Huh.. Okay, my choice then." Swiss says back, a small chuckle accompanying it.

Swiss moved to straddle Mountain's lap early, Mountain was predictably erect but Swiss couldn't say anything since he was in the same predicament.

Plus he smelt Mountain dripping with arousal a while ago, ghouls have sensitive noses. Arousal for them tends to smell like their favourite aroma, off the top of Swiss's head he knows Rain loves the smell of petrichor, Phantom smells baked goods, Mountain smells vanilla.. Wait, is he remembering that correctly?

"Hey Mount-" "Hmm?" "What do you smell when someone's aroused?" "Oh, that's easy. Hyacinths." Mountain answered quickly, "Don't you keep a lot of those in your greenhouse..?" "It used to be vanilla, then I discovered lavender, then hyacinth. I keep whichever one I like the best at the moment growing in the garden." Mountain explained.

He rotates between fragrances that he enjoys and therefore the smell he picks up on also changes. Mountain is weird- In Swiss's opinion anyway. Most ghouls get suspicious when they smell their favourite scent because it's hard to tell if it's arousal or something harmless like say, a perfume.

For Swiss the smell changes drastically but more recently he's been enjoying the scent of burning cedar wood. Beforehand he was quite a big fan of sugar cookies.. Aether made too many in a short span of time and he got used to the lingering fragrance.

"What do you smell?" Mountain reverses the question as Swiss was unbuttoning their pants, "Uhh burning cedar wood, yeah. Smells so damn good.." Swiss replied carelessly, "Oh- You've moved on." Mountain noted, "Yeah, I'm kinda surprised you don't like the smell of new books." Swiss laughed, he undid his belt and pushed his pants down first as he was the easier of the two.

Mountain's hands go underneath Swiss's shirt before pulling upwards, "I do but it doesn't smell as good as flowers do." Mountain helped the shirt over Swiss's head as he was the first one to be bare, "Right- But you can't even smell the vanilla so what's the point in growing them?" Swiss was now way too invested in this discussion.

"They're still pretty even if the orchids themselves don't carry the familiar scent. Besides I tend to grow lilac around the same time to mask the lack of smell." Mountain explained his choices, they collectively pushed Swiss's clothes to the floor before helping Mountain out of his.

Swiss gave an acknowledging hum to Mountain's previous words, he was more focused on his actions now that Mountain was also free of fabrics. "First- Where's the lube?" Swiss asked, Mountain dropped his head back against his headboard as he tried to think. Swiss reached up and scratched the base of his antlers for a moment making Mountain exhale shakily.

"Dresser, second drawer under my uniform." Mountain then says sharply as it came to him, "Thank you- Now stay right here." Swiss says with a grin as he got off of Mountain and the bed. He came back just a little later lube in hand, "You use water based?" Swiss asked as he looked at the bottle while getting back on the bed.

"Uh.. Yeah, I just like the feeling of it." Mountain replied back as his eyes followed Swiss until Swiss sat back in his lap. "I wonder if Copia knows how much money we've spent at sex shops." Swiss says with a chuckle, "I'd hope not.. That'd be embarrassing." Mountain whined, "You have nothing to hide! Or do you..? I've already found out one of your secrets today." Swiss mused with a grin.

"I think I'll keep that one a secret." Mountain replied with a huff, "Fine fine- Keep your secrets then." Swiss dismissed as he applied the lube to one of his hands, it spread easily and was slick. Mountain was watching intensely, once his hand was thoroughly covered he inserted two fingers into himself.

The stretch was a warm welcome, Mountain felt himself throb instantly as he watched the way Swiss grinded on his fingers and moaned. A bead of precum welled at the head of his cock, he couldn't resist stroking himself to the sight.

Mountain bit back any noises as he was mesmerised by the way Swiss rolled his hips, or how his fingers would hit a particularly good spot. His fangs were starting to dig into his bottom lip, Swiss added a third finger gasping out as his own cock dribbled a steady line of pre.

Mountain stroked slowly, the strokes were strong yet steady as he listened to the way Swiss's breath hitched or how he'd moan quietly. His eyes completely closed as he was almost ready, stretching himself just wide enough to take Mountain.

Mountain stopped once his cock twitched in his hand, a whimper leaving him as he looked at Swiss needily. "Swiss..?" Mountain muttered, he didn't want to be forgotten. Swiss's eyes opened as he pulled his fingers free, a heavy sigh leaving him as it felt like a weight had been lifted off of his chest.

"I should've let you do that." Swiss mumbled as he scooted further into Mountain's lap preparing to take him in. Mountain couldn't reply, but his hands started to move. One helping line his cock up and the other holding Swiss's waist and help ease him down onto Mountain's member.

Swiss inhaled sharply, his eyes looking down between them even though he couldn't see the merge point. Mountain tensed up, unsure if he should continue. "I'm fine- It's just thick, you know that." Swiss calmed Mountain back down, a few more inches to go and Swiss was fully in Mountain's lap. Swiss exhaled before grinning, looking up at Mountain.

Mountain's breaths were shallow, Swiss was so tight.. "You aren't going to bust are you?" Swiss teased, running a clawed finger down his chest. "You're really tight." Mountain whimpered, his eyes looking between himself and Swiss. "Is it me who's tight, or you who's too big?" Swiss laughed before leaning forward to kiss Mountain.

Mountain was desperate for the contact, their hands were all over each other while they were kissing that progressively evolved to them making out. Despite Swiss pressing on Mountain, he stayed sitting upright and didn't fall over like most do. Swiss chuckled as he pulled away, tongue licking over his lips.

"I think we're good to add a little bit of my touch to this." Swiss says while trailing his hands up Mountain's chest, Mountain knew what Swiss was implying.

"Do you want air already? Or.." Swiss asked, giving him a choice. "No- Quintessence please." Always polite, even when in the middle of sex. Swiss could almost roll his eyes but it was an endearing trait.

Once his hands reached Mountain's face he pulled him back in for another kiss, this kiss was different from the other one that only made him long for Swiss. This was quickly giving him a feeling close to intoxication, not quite like being high or drunk but maybe something in-between?

His body was fuzzy and he was acutely more aware of any sensations. Swiss's touch felt like a fire in a field at night, captivating and the only thing you could look at. Swiss's hands roamed down his back, claws gently dragging downwards as he did so. Mountain moaned as his hands pulled Swiss closer to him, they hadn't even started properly and this was already so much for him.

Mountain pulled away from the kiss, needing air. He gasped in a mild manner, turning from Swiss. Swiss didn't mind, he kissed Mountain's cheek instead as it had been offered to him. "I wonder about your antlers.." Swiss commented between kisses, "If I could help them fall off..?" He then pondered aloud.

Swiss's touch moved up quickly until Mountain felt the heat of hands on his antlers, he tried to speak but any word he tried to form came out as gibberish and babbling. Still, Swiss seemed to understand. "You like it?" He asked with a grin, Mountain's vision was hazy. It'd remain that way as long as Swiss could touch him.

"I'll come back to your antlers then.. Are you ready?" Swiss asked, Mountain nodded enthusiastically. Swiss had barely moved his hips and the pleasure was delightful, addictive even. In this state while under the influence of Swiss who was directly affecting him, it was so easy to succumb to it. It felt like it was eating his body entirely.

His hips moved in a simple pattern, Mountain was still able to keep his eyes on Swiss (somehow) which amused the multi-ghoul greatly. "Do you need me to lessen it? You look like you're struggling." Swiss maintained a level of composure despite feeling the ripples of arousal going through him as well.

Mountain shook his head, he wanted to stay like this for as long as Swiss would let him. It was too much but too little at the same time and he loved it. It seemed to dull everything that wasn't focused on pleasure, when Swiss started to suck marks into his skin he could only grip at him back in response.

His claws were the least of his worries, not like he could retract them right now even if he wanted to. Mountain scratched long stripes into Swiss, Swiss moaned out at the pain and smiled against Mountain's skin. He managed to keep a consistent and continuous pace with his hips, rocking back and forth as Mountain groaned at the sensation.

Swiss continued kissing into Mountain's skin, Mountain was getting close already he could feel it. It was hard when Swiss was intentionally targeting erogenous zones, or spots where Mountain was particularly sensitive at. He made his way up Mountain's neck, that.. That was a really difficult spot.

Mountain inhaled keenly as he felt Swiss's fangs test the skin there, it was Mountain's weak spot. Right.. There. His claws punctured into Swiss at the same time Swiss sunk his teeth into the meat of Mountain's neck.

His orgasm crashed into him, coating everything in a hazy static except for the district wetness of Swiss's tongue licking up the blood from Mountain's neck. His eyes were closed as he whimpered, Swiss hadn't even blinked once Mountain came.

The hotness of Mountain's seed didn't bother him, nor did the claws drawing blood from his back. Once Mountain was actively more aware again, Swiss tapered off the quintessence slowly. He didn't want Mountain to crash right after all of that, quintessence has the funny side effects of making things feel lifeless if you don't let someone down carefully.

Swiss pulled away from Mountain's neck, a pretty purple bruise being left there along with bite marks. "How was it?" Swiss asked with a small smile, Mountain pulled his claws out of Swiss once he was capable of doing so. Swiss gasped but didn't say anything about it, it's pretty well known he likes getting off to blood and pain alike.

Mountain's not the only freak around these parts.

"Incredible." Mountain says, his breathing was still ragged. "You should've seen your face, absolutely gorgeous when you're at your end." Swiss cooed, brushing hairs out of Mountain's face. Mountain blushed a sage colour at the compliment as he adjusted his posture, it was time for a position change..

Mountain helped Swiss off of him momentarily as he switched to laying down instead, once he was laying down he looked up at Swiss who was already sinking onto his shaft again.

Despite Swiss always being chatty (even in bed..) you could tell when he was close by the way his skin would become more sticky, or his tail would start flickering in an irregular pattern or how his chest would be struggling to regulate his breathing.

Mountain cleared his throat making Swiss look at him, "You need to finish too." Mountain says, voice particularly rough but clear enough. "Oh trust me- It took every inch of self control I had to not cum all over your chest just now." Swiss says with a laugh as his thighs were able to straddle Mountain once more, Mountain gave him a questionable glance.

"You could've." Mountain stated, "Could've. But then I wouldn't have got back up, trust me." Swiss says with a chuckle, Mountain couldn't argue against that. While Swiss isn't generally a one and done type, he does enjoy edging himself which he was clearly doing with how he's done it a few times already. If he starts edging then once it's over, it's completely final.

Fingering himself, straddling Mountain, yeah- He was prepping himself for a nice one. "One more then we'll stop." Swiss warned, mostly for his own sake. Air would be involved this time and he didn't feel comfortable with either of them being tired and messing with such a dangerous element. So, the second round was the last round.

Mountain nodded, Swiss got more comfortable now that he wasn't actively on the cliff. He moved and situated himself better, his left hand clings to Mountain's antler while his right hand wrapped around Mountain's throat. Mountain swallowed nervously, Swiss's thumb was pressed directly into the still fresh bite.

"If you want me to stop at any time, tap me, shout, struggle- Do something just.. Don't sit there." Swiss says, concern in his voice. Mountain wasn't too worried about that aspect, he could toss Swiss off of him at any time if it came to it. The idea of losing your air is bound to give you anxiety at first but he wanted to try it.

Mountain gave a small nod and with that Swiss started. He was riding Mountain properly now that the new position was more comfortable for him, Mountain gasped at the sudden sensation. Swiss was being orderly with everything. You'd almost think he planned this.

His hand on Mountain's antler tightened as he was faster now with his pace, Mountains eyes winced as he felt Swiss start to squeeze his throat slightly. See.. The unique thing about the air element is he doesn't actually need to do anything to steal the air out of Mountain's lungs.

It's a miracle Cirrus, Cumulus, or Aurora haven't killed one of their pack with such a menacing element. They've done plenty of things to annoy those three for sure..

The air just happens to leave Mountains parted lips, he doesn't notice until he tries to breathe and can't. Swiss monitors closely even if it meant he was less focused on the way Mountain was hitting every nerve inside of him perfectly, he'd hiss but continued on.

Once Mountain started to reach for Swiss's forearm he let the air rush back into Mountain's lungs. There's an instant blood rush from that alone, the brief panic made everything so clear. The exact opposite of quintessence that made everything fuzzy. "Again?" Mountain whimpered, "If you say so.." Swiss huffed out.

This is fucking tiring! Not the whole air thing but riding someone. Swiss stilled while catching his breath, "Mount, gonna need you to work with me here." Swiss exclaimed.

Mountain titled his head but was ready to accommodate in any way possible. "You've gotta be on top now, or at least help me. I'm tired and my legs are becoming jello." Swiss stated, he was breathing particularly hard.

Mountain bowed his head, willing to change positions with Swiss. Just as they were about to, Swiss yanked unfortunately harder than he meant to when removing his left hand from Mountain's antler and it popped right off.

He screamed. He won't lie. He absolutely screamed. The antler just tumbling between the two of them and falling onto Mountain's stomach, splashing into a pile of Swiss's precum that had been leaking there. Meanwhile Mountain just let out the most pleased groan Swiss had ever heard, his eyes darted between the shed antler and to Mountain.

Mountain's tail began to hit the bed, his groan sounded similar to a rumble and made Swiss slightly shrink as he was worried he had injured Mountain. "Did I.. hurt you?" Swiss asked, voice shaking from everything that just happened. "Oh Satanas, NO! I've been waiting for that all day, it's a type of satisfaction that even sex can't achieve." Mountain explained with a fulfilled voice.

"But the.. Stump thing is bleeding." "Pedicle, it'll heal in a few days. C'mon, let's switch positions." Mountain was relatively casual thanks to one of the biggest annoyances in his life finally falling off, he tossed the shed antler to the floor without even paying it a sprinkle of attention.

Well, that was horrifying.

Swiss's uneasiness was forgotten once Mountain laid him down on his back and took up the top seat above, he held Swiss's legs up and set a quick pace. He had a lot more energy than Swiss and was noticeably seeking his end, Swiss moaned harshly when Mountain hit his prostate.

Swiss had one last chance to steal a breath from Mountain before it'd be way too risky to continue. Mountain felt himself get light-headed, his pace slowed considerably. He fell quiet, his grunts being silenced as he tried to breathe his way through the feeling despite knowing it was impossible. The feeling was getting worse as Swiss slowly cut off more and more of his air.

Then, he removed it entirely. Two seconds. That's all it took. The familiar feeling of choking, not having enough air.. There was a certain beauty to be had in it.

Swiss then released his hold on Mountain's air capacity, Mountain inhaled greedily as the air felt raw to his lungs. His head was still swirling, but he recovered quickly. If anything it was to spite Swiss at this point.

A growl comes out of him as he looks down at Swiss who looks all to pleased with his handiwork of pissing Mountain off. It didn't actually make him angry but seeing as he was now on top and in a certain "mood," he didn't take kindly to Swiss interrupting his pace.

His hand goes to stroke Swiss, he's so slick after leaking all over himself. Easy to jerk, his hand practically glides over him. His other hand was clawing into Swiss's side, his claws intentionally harming this time until he saw crimson. Not enough to permanently harm or even scar but enough to draw out the metallic scent.

Swiss gasped at the pain, Mountain's noisy above him with grunts, gasps and small moans. Once the smell of iron hit Swiss, he came. White hot ropes shoot from his cock rather violently after edging for so long, they reach to his chest before slowing down until he's just leaking. Mountain pushes him anyway, wanting more and stroking him harshly.

Did Swiss really think he was getting out of it that easily? No. Never. He presses into Swiss's sweet spot, continues stroking him and purposely overstimulates the multi-ghoul until he sees the pinpricks of tears. Swiss doesn't tell him to stop, he doesn't want Mountain to stop.

The aftereffects of his first orgasm which was so strong already pulled him over into a second one, it hit him harder than the first. His moan was loud as he writhed under Mountain, squeezing him deliciously as he sank into Swiss's depths for the last time and came.

Mountain didn't pull away his hand until every last drop was squeezed out of Swiss and had leaked onto his hand or Swiss's soft stomach. He waited until he didn't feel his cock twitching anymore inside of Swiss, once he was certain he gave everything he had- He pulled out.

Mountain promptly groaned now from exhaustion as he dropped beside Swiss. Swiss was.. Gone. The only movement he did do was turn towards Mountain, Swiss couldn't even form a coherent thought so he definitely couldn't speak.

Mountain pulled him in for a cuddle anyway, their warm bodies merging together. Mountain didn't care about how sweaty and dirty they were, he ignored the cum that messily spread between the two of them.

They'd totally need a shower in the morning.

Swiss woke up first, incredible considering he took the hardest hit from all of that. His processing speed was very slow today after expending so much energy yesterday, Mountain is completely passed out. One arm hanging around Swiss and the rest of his body laying flat down.

Mountain's tail was about as still as the rest of his body, Mountain tends to look lifeless whenever he's sleeping. Swiss moved out of Mountain's loose grip, assessing the damage on himself and Mountain. Just a few claw wounds and a bite that would probably finish healing today or tomorrow, Swiss ran his finger along the dents in his side.

He'd have to ask what part pissed Mountain off so badly last night, it was way too much fun to not ask. But priorities first, he's all gross and has a bunch of dried fluids sticking to him that need to be washed off. He turned back to Mountain, "Mount, c'mon wake up." Swiss poked normally at first.

Once he realised Mountain hadn't so much as even moved, he started pushing him. "Wake uuup." Swiss groaned, he'd tried just about everything after a few minutes. Sat on him, shoved him, shouted, the whole spiel. Mountain was just ignoring him, he didn't want to get up when he's so sleepy.

Once Swiss figured that out, he knew the only way to get the earth ghoul up. "Your antler is gonna itch soon if you keep ignoring me." Swiss says, it sounded like a threat. With one particularly annoyed huff, Mountain got up. His eyes weren't even open. "Good morning sleepyhead." Swiss greeted, kissing Mountain on the cheek.

"We only need to clean up, change the bed, and then you can go right back to sleep." Swiss enticed, that did sound very appealing.. By all means he was sweet talking Mountain into actually moving and not hibernating for the rest of the day.

A few more words and then Mountain gave in. "Fine.." He grumbled, opening his eyes. Swiss was beaming once he saw their green hues, "Shower time- Plus I need to clean the scratches and bite, don't want those getting infected." Swiss detailed, sliding off the bed first as he helped Mountain off next.

"As long as my antler comes off today and we get to stay in bed longer.. Then do whatever." Mountain says with a yawn, "My pleasure." Swiss responded with a grin before leading Mountain out of the bright sunroom and into the attached bathroom.

Mountain was surprisingly pliant with everything until they got back into the (fresh) bed and he pulled Swiss into a crushing cuddle. Swiss choked but didn't argue with Mountain, good luck trying to win against him when he's tired and determined on something. Eventually his grip eased down as he felt comfortable knowing Swiss wouldn't leave and started to fall asleep again.

Swiss could finally take a deep breath! Which was useless because he was trapped in bed anyway. Oh well, voluntary circumstance. He cuddled back into Mountain, while he wouldn't go back to sleep he could at least hear Mountain snoring the entire time which was just as good.

Mountain's other antler had finally fallen off later on in the day while he was having lunch, it disturbed Swiss, again. Meanwhile, Mountain was celebrating being antler free for a while. No more itchiness, no more discomfort, and nobody could randomly grab them anymore.

"The stump is bleeding again.." "I told you it's called a pedicle.." "Tomayto, tomahto. Same thing." "It's not-" "Totally is." "No it's not!" The two went back and forth about it for the rest of the day, holding firm in their bottom lines. Mountain eventually folded once Swiss started threatening no cuddles.

Although Swiss still brings the discussion up time to time. Mountain maintains that it's called a pedicle, and Swiss of course just calls it a stump. They'll never actually reach an agreement with it.

End notes: Three words, deer, antlers, and vanilla. That's what my research mainly consisted of for this fic. As far as I'm concerned after reading that much on antlers and deer, Mountain is a deer.

[tossawary]

Okay, spoilers for the first twenty minutes of the first episode of the live-action ATLA remake, because they added a brand new prologue that was VERY bad and I need to talk about how hilariously bad it was.

So, the show opens in the Fire Nation's Capital City at night, with an earthbender running away with an important-looking scroll and being chased by Fire Nation soldiers. There's an unimpressive chase sequence that ends with the earthbender managing to hand off the scroll to someone else, before being caught and dragged before Fire Lord Sozin.

First thoughts: why are they opening 100 years early? I liked the way the original cartoon opened in the actual world state that mattered to us, then the war and its history slowly unfolded as the main characters learned more about their own world. Sozin's wig and costume looks CHEAP, and they are throwing away all of the intimidating mystery of the Fire Lord (we don't see Ozai's face in the cartoon for like two seasons) by showing Sozin as just some guy. Also, it's kind of a waste of time to introduce Sozin here at all, especially in person, because while he had a MASSIVE impact on the world of the story, he's basically irrelevant to the main narrative happening 100 years later, because our actual villains are his descendants ACTIVELY CONTINUING his work.

The earthbender is beat-up but defiantly says that the Earth Kingdom has now been warned that Sozin intends to attack. Sozin is all smug, though, because apparently he WANTED these plans to be stolen. He wants everyone (he actually explicitly names the Water Tribes and the Air Nomads as well as the Earth Kingdom) to be looking towards the Earth Kingdom, so that he can attack the Air Nomads instead, because that's where the new Avatar is, who is the only person who could stop him. (The exposition is sooooo clunky and cheesy. It's baaaaad. Talk directly to the camera, why don't you?) Then Sozin burns this poor earthbender to death and then the scene skips over to Aang at the Southern Air Temple.

Second thoughts: oh, so we're not only going to waste time building up Sozin as a villain when we're going to very shortly skip ahead 100 years? We're also going to establish Sozin as a guy in a bad costume who is kind of shit at military strategy? He doesn't need a distraction! He doesn't need a feint! No one is expecting him to attack anyone, he shouldn't need to fake attacking someone else! In fact, he's letting all the other nations know that they should be paying close attention to his movements? What?!

At the Air Temple, we see Aang and Gyatso's relationship, and we see Gyatso called in to speak with a council of senior monks. The council has been alerted to the fact that Sozin intends to attack the Earth Kingdom, they intend to help, and they want to prepare Aang for war. And I didn't really have to think too hard about the logistics of Sozin's attack on the Air Nomads when it was something that happened 100 years ago! But now this stupid fucking show is making me actually have to think about how all of this worked, because it actually shows SOZIN'S ATTACK on this temple and this is why Aang is forced to leave! (And gets frozen in an iceberg for 100 years.)

Don't show me this nonsense if you don't want me to think about the logistics and strain my suspension of disbelief! If the Air Nomads intend to help the Earth Kingdom when the Fire Nation attacks, then because they're PACIFISTS who can FLY, they would be most helpful serving as scouts and messengers. But NO ONE is watching the movements of Sozin and his entire fucking army of firebenders when they have been EXPLICITLY forewarned that he intends to attack the Earth Kingdom??? They don't have anyone watching out for this explosive conflict that will directly impact their ability to travel at the very least?

It's one thing if the Fire Nation has simply become increasingly militaristic and industrial, because from an outsider's perspective, that could just be Sozin strengthening his internal power. (The Fire Nation could have had multiple lords and kingdoms, historically, before being forcibly united into a single nation.) Chin the Conqueror was also just one Avatar ago, so it's maybe not unreasonable for the Fire Nation to be wary of warmongers within the Earth Kingdom. The Fire Nation becoming increasingly hostile and aggressive is concerning, but people tend to hope that cooler heads will prevail and war won't happen. It's not the same as DIRECT CONFIRMATION that the (United?) Fire Nation intends to invade the Earth Kingdom and start a war?

Sozin, apparently: "The best way to pull off a surprise attack is intentionally put all of my enemies on their guard."

So, now the Air Nomads don't look great for failing to notice an army showing up like that. Especially if they're in contact with the Earth Kingdom about the war that they're anticipating? Like, sure, they didn't anticipate THEY would be attacked, but they have information now that Sozin has an army on the move and terrible ambitions? Maybe these senior monks aren't sharing the news around because they don't want to panic anyone yet? Maybe it took a long time for the Earth Kingdom's information to reach them? But it's not a great look that the show is immediately inspiring me to find flaws (in the plan of telling your enemies to look out for your attack beforehand) and to have to come up with excuses for these potential plot holes.

And I personally didn't enjoy seeing the Air Nomads engaged in combat with the Fire Nation as one of the first things we see from them! Of course they're going to defend themselves when attacked, but it's just so sad, especially when Aang is introduced in the original cartoon as a wondrous mystery to Sokka and Katara and the audience, fun-loving and bright and with incredible powers, a miraculous shock of sunshine colors against the blue of the South Pole, a person from a more peaceful time and a hopeful way of life, someone who has never seen war and never heard of this one. In the cartoon, we learn about the Air Nomads through getting to know Aang, this penguin-sledding kid who can't even conceive of war yet, before we see the remnants of his loss. We don't have to see airbenders fighting for their lives and dying horribly before we fully understand who they are as a people.

This remake heavily frontloads its exposition with new material that is painfully clumsy, largely irrelevant, and doesn't add anything good to a story that's already been done pretty well. Was this just an attempt to avoid being accused of directly copying and adding nothing? Because it was bad. What the fuck was wrong with opening in the main time period of our story with Sokka and Katara as our POV characters? We could have instead seen more of the Southern Water Tribe! We could have spent more time with Aang getting to know the Southern Water Tribe and bonding with Sokka and Katara! We could have had more conflict between Aang and Zuko (who is, unlike Sozin, alive and relevant to the actual story at hand)! But no, we cut good stuff from the original show and have to waste all of this time on Sozin instead, who is dead by the time that the real story starts, and also apparently thinks telling everyone he intends to attack the Earth Kingdom when no one knew he was going to attack anyone is good military strategy.

[lollytea]

Okay I just wanna dump a few of my headcanons, if you would be so kind as to allow that. Basically

The first thing I'm gonna get into is how witches came to exist in the Demon Realm in the first place. It's implied that every living thing on the Boiling Isles grew from the Titan corpse's residual magic like some kind of fungus. But I personally believe that witches themselves were originally an invasive species that eventually became one with the Isles over a period of time.

I think witches are too biologically similar to humans for it to be a coincidence. Obviously, there are significant changes. The bile sac, the ears, the fangs, sometimes additional eyes, tails, all that freaky stuff. But the blueprint is the same. These two species are cut from the same cloth.

It's heavily implied through comments from Eda and Hunter that glyphs used to be more commonly practised but have become so irrelevant that most of the population doesn't know anything about them anymore. Why? Why were glyphs so frequently used in the first place if all witches were born with a biological magic generator, and why did the practise fall off so hard in later years?

Well, I think it's because the original witches were human. Over the centuries, their bodies evolved for the sake of survival, the most significant change being the bile sac, rendering glyphs obsolete and forgotten to the sands of time.

I don't think humans were ever supposed to be a part of the Isles. But accidents happen.

Who's to say HOW they ended up there. The strongest theory is that during the war between the archivists and the titans, the latter shed puddles of blood, which resulted in hundreds of portals opening up that humans from all over the world ended up stumbling into.

The Boiling Isles originally developed as an anarchist society because its first settlers had to disregard the rules and laws they knew from their old life in order to co-exist with each other. Because they were all from different cultures and they functioned and perceived morals differently. A lot of them couldn't even communicate with each other because of language barriers. Plus, the Boiling Isles was dangerous and chaotic, and they had to adapt to that.

The unity between these people was crucial to their survival. They couldn't afford to be divisive and create bigotry in this new world they were inhabiting. A strict enforcement of authority is a slippery slope to civil war. They had to put the rules of the Human Realm aside and agree to operate under new rules.

Ultimately, bits and pieces of the developing Human Realm spilling into the Boiling Isles over the centuries along with Belos' influence was what caused that way of life to gradually deteriorate. Aka the introduction of cops and commerce etc.

I feel like all the language barriers that originally existed resulted in a new language being developed to make better connections with each other. I've been calling it Witchtongue but somebody else could probably come up with something more original. But also a huge chunk of the population spoke primarily English or at least spoke it as a second language (I know English is the language of trade but I'm not entirely sure if that was the case during this time period)

So, these were the two most common languages of the Isles that co-existed in the savage ages. Different communities spoke either one or the other casually, but everyone at least had a basic understanding of both

Now the second thing I'm going to talk about is the knowledge of royal titles in the Boiling Isles, implying that these are things that exist here. (Darius calling Hunter a Prince, Odalia calling Amity a Princess, things like Grom Queens and Kings etc.) This is strange considering that as far as we know their only experience with a monarch is Emperor Belos. Unless of course, there are others elsewhere. Which is the next thing I'm gonna talk about.

I think the gradual eradication of witch culture was intentional on Belos' part, because their principles made it a lot more difficult for him to seize control and execute his genocide plan.

He couldn't get rid of it entirely. That was too difficult. But he could contain it. And he knew how.

By this point in Belos' time in the Boiling Isles, he had noticed that the occasional book or item dripping in from the Human Realm could significantly change the way things operated. They adapted to money rather than trading. It wasn't even Belos that introduced that. Human Realm influence was a powerful thing.

He understood exactly how he could successfully put a stopper in the spread of Boiling Isles history and language so it wasn't as commonly known as it was.

He hand selected a small community of witches who were passionate about preserving history. And him being "Lord Belos" at the time, he had the power to grant them power too. He gave them titles (like Lord, Lady, Prince, Princess etc.) and he convinced them that they were special. That the Titan told them so. Descendents of the first witches of the savage ages who founded their rich, beautiful culture. They are so much purer and more attuned with the land than all these other modern witches who are letting their culture slip away. Giving them this massive superiority complex, basically.

And then these people have children. And their children have children. And the centuries go on. And now they're a large community of "royal families" living up in manors on the Knee, sending their children to St. Epiderm as it's the only school that teaches witchtongue. It's the only school that teaches anything worth knowing about the culture of the Isles. Because these families are the ones funding that school. And it's for their kind and their kind alone

Prehistoric Boiling Isles culture is in this weird stage where it's both erased AND gatekeeped. And it's different types of rich people doing both of them

I'm thinking of those old money, wealthy witch societies. Fluent in the language, have access to so much of the history, keep ancient artefacts. They're probably the type to host like fancy balls and festivals celebrating their culture. All while locking out the rest of the Isles who weren't born into these rich families, so are basically dirt in their eyes.

There was these ancient rules formed by the first settlers. Most of it is basic decency like "Share what you own with your family and friends." That rule was followed because of maintaining a sense of community. It was about helping each other out. Because there were not A LOT of settlers.

However, these old money families have twisted the meaning of that statement. They hoard their wealth, but they share it with each other. They're a community themselves, and they DO look out for each other. So they consider it blasphemy to share with anyone else.

MEANWHILE there's the direct opposite of this in the Blight family. I imagine that neither Alador or Odalia were born into money. Odalia is just a relentless capitalist. However the concept of capitalism is completely against all the rules the settlers established. It's parasitic and predatory. It is COMPLETELY influenced by techniques and practises done in the Human Realm.

Capitalism has no business in the Boiling Isles. But Odalia does not give a fuck. It DOES involve getting lower class witches involved in order for it to work. It's a machine. It need thousands of people involved in order to function. Odalia made her money by stepping over other people and leeching everything out of them. In doing so, she's scrubbing Boiling Isles culture away.

Basically I feel like the old wealthy communities would look down on the Blights. They disagree with how they make their money. It goes against the morals of the Isles. Meanwhile they're also shitty horrible people but in the opposite way.

It's a cycle of rich people being shitty

[salvagesmha]

Altering the Final War's Battlefields

With the series done, one of the few things that took me until now to get to was basically a bit of a revamp of the Second War battlefields.

The problem with them in the long run for me is that, LOV members aside, there was just...no other major villain established in those fields to really give a shit about or really have a sense of dread about.

One of the major differences between the 1st and 2nd War is that, regardless of how you feel about the results of the 1st War, waltzing into it you understood that the Villains were very credible, established threats.

The League of Villains and their upgraded powers, the MLA top brass and knowing what havoc just one of them could do, the High End Nomus that lay in waitin production thanks to Ujiko, Gigantomachia being a living disaster, 100K soldiers who we know should be on par with regular Heroes from training and have put the LOV on the backfoot. YMMV on how the 1st War turned out, but walking in there was some solid anticaption and intrigue in how these elements would be used....

The Second War does not have that. Why? Because Horikoshi kinda just...gutted the PLF and didn't reaaaaaaallly bring suitable, built-up replacements for them?

High Ends that have personality and can think? Nope, back to just the dumbass Nomus who are just rampaging monsters...that's it.

The PLF soldiers? Literally just 100 people now and, even then, the jailbreakers they got to replace them are just...well, nothing, like I talked about here.

The top brass of the LOV/PLF? Most who could provide interesting fights or intrigue were taken away for just Skeptic...whose regulated back 'hackerman' only.

Replacing them are either AFO's Assassins or Advisors who are just ether not developed at all or just came in too late, beaten too quick and used too little to care about. Thus, it really makes them feel totally irrelevent to the other stuff going around during the war.

For all the talk of the Heroes being at a disadvantage, it certainly did not feel so with just...6 of the bad guys out of a hundred or so people would really care about.. As such, my list below is basically having major Villains take the spots of the Jailbreakers/Advisors as 'Bosses' of their fields so as to give each place a solid Villain to get invested in. In addition, also adding in more returning Villains to help make each place to feel 'alive' in a sense.

If you wanna see how I'd use the Advisors, for the most part (there's a few changes here), look here.

Central Hospital:

This is the most blatant change I feel works for the story better is Trumpet being the ‘Boss’ (or well, one of the Bosses) of Central Hospital. One of the issues in the that battle came about from Disgustus being shoved into two contradictory roles. The first, up until the midway through the battle, is an advocate of mutants that seemed to be genuinely hurt and bitter from the discrimination he’s implied to have gotten (as evidence by his scar)...except then we get to the second half. Which has his internal thoughts filled with how the PLF were just using the mob they gathered as tools and makes him just cartoonishly corrupt. 

Instead of him being forced into both, I think a good idea would have been for Trumpet to take the reigns as the corrupt leader, acting as a false sympathizer for the Heteromorphs, and Disgustus to remain as a genuine, if disdainful extremist. It gives a mook of the PLF more depth since it reminds the audience that a lot of the Villains walked down the path due to rough lives, and allows for their still to be a scummy Villain still to stop. Heck, I feel using Trumpet as the Boss also just makes some of the plot feel more coherent, since he can use his Quirk to not only boost the mob, but make them too frenzied up to really listen or notice something being off (like Spinner clearly being out of it due to the additional Quirks) or notice him clearly covering his ass.

In this case, it’s Shoji and Koda beating Trumpet that could allow for the mob splinter to really begin and stall, with the pig guy’s group merely being the final blow to crack the facade for good. As for Disgustus and the rest of Spinner’s crew, they can be defeated right before they could enter the hospital. Something that hurts Shoji and the others badly enough that the mob genuinely could have killed them if not for pig guy. Heck, to help with this option, I also raise Chimera from movie 2 to return, acting as extra muscle for the crowd and, given his own experience being discriminated against, be another pillar of change get the crowd motivated. While Shoji loses the first encounter against Chimera, this second time, he barely manages to defeat him and is in danger of being killed when help arrives.

On a minor note, more of the USJ crew returns, mainly the Heteromorphic side as well, perhaps trying to spread the idea that, from the beginning, the League of Villains was just trying to raise awareness and change…even though that was very much not the case XD

Boss: Spinner, Trumpet

Jailbreaker: Chimera

Advisors: Spinner’s Advisors

Return: Steel Bulwark, Invisible Wall, Chomper, Greedy Gaping Jaw

Okuto Island

Given this is Toga’s battlefield, there’s not quite too many changes I’d make here. I think the most blatant that could be done is make Moonfish, whose acting as the ‘Jailbreaker’ for the Okuto Villains, more prominent. If Kunieda and Gashly are allowed to wipe out or fend off multiple Heroes, than a guy whose supposed to be on par with them should really be allowed to cut loose and be more of a massive thorn for their side. Plus, since I also think League members should at least get at least a significant send-off, I think Tsu being the one to take him down would be a good way of giving her something major to do. In this case, Tsu uses her wits and camouflage to bait Moon into being more careless with his attacks. Something that leads to him leaving himself open to being stunned by her poison mucus before being knocked out.

Another change I’d make is including Eleph from the High Ends on this battlefield. I think it’d hit the point home how much of a gamble splitting hte Villains up from each other was, as there was always a chance one Villain could have a real advantage wherever they got sent to. In this case, Eleph’s quirk allowed him to suck in water to make fierce hydro attacks at his foes. 

On a lesser note, I’m also for Hanzo Suiden/USJ water thug to add to his mayhem since it should have been high priority for that water fucker to at do something threatening given that battlefield was his advantage. Perhaps’s he’s teaming up with Eleph to help boost the Nomu’s attacks? 

Likewise, for the Advisors section, I’m all for Toga having her #1 Advisor at the scene to help add to the pressure of Okuto.

Boss: Toga

Jailbreaker: Moonfish

Return: Hanzo Suiden, Minotaurus

Nomu: Eleph

Advisors: Toga’s #1 Advisor 

Kamino Ward:

Given that the purpose of this place is that it doesn’t have any Major Jailbreakers, only real major tweak I would make for this is that Ribby replaces the NHE here. I think it’d be fitting if the High End assigned to Dabi was also an ax-crazy killer Nomu that wouldn’t give a shit to being set on fire and is just enjoying the chaos of the War. SImilar to the anime, Ida’s attacks with Ribby, alongside someone like Burnin, are what eventually gets him to go down.

Honestly, I’d probably include Starservant and Ending since both were Dabi’s grunts during the EA arc, and it’d be nice for them to assist their boss once more. Plus, both fit the theme of being crazed Villains unconcerned for their lives, like the other two above as well. Not that I think they’d be a major help, but it’d give some familiar faces the audience would recognize and help care more about the battlefields beyond just the final Boss taking up a major focus.

Boss: Dabi

Nomu: Ribby

Return: Starservant, Ending, Sharkyonara (RIP poor bastard), One-Eyed Green Dragon, Sickle Claw

Advisor: Dabi’s 1st ranker

Jaku Ruins:

To take the place of Skully of the Jaku Ruins battlefield, I raise you Geten. Honestly, I think this is the most natural choice as the Face of Jaku Ruins given how Skully shares Geten’s ‘Quirk Makes Right’ mindset and I think it’d hit more for Mina trying to reason with Geten about how both were fighting for their fallen mentors (in this case Re-Destro) than her trying to resonate with a character who hasn’t really been given his due at all. It’d especially hit harder given RD is basically Geten’s Dad too, so ice boy’s attempts at freeing Machia is coming from a placed of enraged love like Mina had.

As the Jailbreaker of Jaku, I raise Slice as being the sort, mostly to act as a villain against Mina, and would be in a similarm indset to geten about trying to avenge a loss loved one + getting payback on Mina while she was at it since it was her acid that cost her the first fight.

Likewise, in this case, all three of Geten’s Advisors + Dabi’s #2, will be at Jaku. Skully is there to work with Bindi Girl into creating gas that’ll keep their forces safe. Geten’s #3 can probably utter his mammonist line from overhearing about the Heroes plot, and be apart from the first wave of the Jaku villain forces to intercept the Heroes (before being taking out fairly easily - he’s No. 3 for a reason after all). As for Geten’s #1…well, he’’ likely just be there for Geten to bounce ideas off and defend the Commander against enemy attacks.

Now, on the returning Villain side, I’m surprised Giant Villain wasn’t brought back to rematch Mt. Lady. He’ll not be as strong as her, but he can keep her busy after she stomped through a good number of their guys. And, like in canon, Sludge Villain can stay and do his thing. Also, as apart of the first wave, Teruo’s here…to probably be one-shot immediately again, but he will be there XD

Boss: Geten

Jailbreaker: Slice

Return: Sludge Villain, Giant Villain, Teruo Hazakashi (Naked Guy), Axer, Stitched Giant

Advisors: Geten’s Advisors, Dabi’s #2 Advisor

Troy Parking Lot

Now this is one of the trickier locations since it’s pretty just one of the ‘spares’ of the battle. But, ultimately, I think it can work to be something even more meaningful than in canon. In this case, I want Mr. Compress to be left behind here. The support of the League faceing off against pretty much the spares of the Heroes trying to mop up the last of the resistance. Plus, it’s not like Compress doesn’t have a Hero of his own he has beef with. Aoyama was the reason his plan to capture both Bakugo and Tokoyami went screwy, and given Aoyama comes from a rich family that his ancestors would have likely stolen from, well…there’s a lot fun you can have between these two brawling out.

The way I see it, Kunieda makes his plants like in canon, and thanks to Compress’ mask, (alongside several other Villains still remaining that do wear masks of their own or maybe even just Kunieda has control over who he turns into plants) Compress is able to go back to his tree hopping shtick like in the training camp arc and show off his own stealth abilities again. Able to gradually whittle down the Heroes by taking advantage of the foliage to turn those who aren’t plant turned into marbles.

Since there are no Nomu here, the lesser Villains will be made of minor villain gangs, those like Cider House to Team Resvoir Dogs. Stragglers that are really only lasting as long due to Kunieda’s cover and will likely go down after Aoyama/Hagakure’s combo attack.

Boss: Mr. Compress

Jailbreaker: Kunieda

Return:Cider House, Blade Villain/Street Thieves, Reservoir Dogs, Gorilla, Spike

Advisors: Compress #3,

Takoba Stadium:

Honestly, this might sound weird, but Skeptic honestly could have taken Gashly’s place. Gashly’s whole thing is that he spawns minions to outlast others while he himself is in a safe location…

Kinda like Skeptic’s Quirk…or Twice’s…or Toga with Twice’s Quirk (Horikoshi didn’t spend much time on Gashly’s power, let’s be real…). If the main boss of Takoba is just a summoner, than just let Skeptic be badass and not only hack UA’s systems, but also fuck people up via his henchmen too? Heck, you don’t even have to do much to explain how he can do both without issue.

Have him hide somewhere during the chaos…or alternatively? Bring back the Shie Hassaikai guy, Tengai, Barrier and allow Skeptic to camp with in. As for how he can use his set-up at all, have AFO’s spies implant a virus that allows Skeptic access to UA’s systems so that he can safely work his magic in peace…at least up until La Brava stops him. As for how he can fight so well, perhaps have a chapter detailing Skeptic actually bothering to improve his Quirk so that he doesn’t need to use much to create puppets thats can do simple commands, and with access to Detnerat support items, he can effectively spawn more infinitely.

That’s how you can explain Skeptic outlasting the others for so long. At least, up until Tengai is knocked out by Tokage and Kamikiri via the Warp Gate. Thus, shutting down the barrier to allow Skeptic and any remaining Villains to be wiped out. 

Of course, there’s also the issue of the likes of Ketsubutsu’s deal with Skeptic being overturned, though I think a good way to handle that is to have them also at Takoba trying to take Skeptic’s forces down. In this case, a good midtier Villain that can give them a challenge is Deidoro Sakaki and Katsukame. Sakaki’s Sloshed and Katsukame’s energy drain are being a real nuisance in preventing the Heroes from getting to Skeptic, so it’s up to Ketsubetsu to stop them. In this case, Shindo and Nakagame take down Sakaki, while Ms. Joke and those other two guys beat Katsukame. Thus, freeing up more space to focus on the nerdy fuck who needs to get out of the barrier. 

As for any other side Villains to go along with Skeptic, I’m all for including the likes of the Carmine Advisors that made it out, beyond Toga’s 1st ranker. So Toga #3 and Skeptic’s #3. As for Gashly, he can still work as the main muscle, albeit with a revamped Quirk? Perhaps his Baby Tree quirk is more on the psychological side of things that make Skeptic’s puppets even more of a hassle to fight against? Nomu for Takoba will be Chubs to add to the whole theme of ‘this place is chalk full of tanky, long-distance, support fuckers who won’t fight directly’ which is just bound to get on the Takoba Heroes nervesXD

Main Boss: Skeptic

Jailbreaker: Gashly (with a revamped Quirk, probably something rhyme-based to help Skeptic’s puppets out)

Return: Tengai, Katsukame, Sakaki - Shie Hassaikai. Needle Hair, Martial Hair

PLF:  Skeptic #3/Toga’s #3

Nomu: Chubs

UA Shelters

Always thought this was more of a shame that there wasn’t really any proper fights here. Yeah, I know the idea is ‘oh, we can’t let the Villains in’ but c’moooon! It’s the final fight - let them be more of a threat by a few breaking in, causing the Heroes on the inside to try to stop them.

Let Mustard return to spray his gas to help weaken the Heroes defenses, which allows him to get a rematch with Kendo and Tetsu again! Let Mimic get smuggled into UA to take control of the damn thing after Skeptic failed! Have the remaining yakuza work with the saboteurs, acting as their guardsman while they try to bring UA down and it’s a race against time to really stop them. Hell, let Mummy return to use his powers to turn the machinery against the Heroes and have them work hard as Hell to stop him!!

How did they get in? IDK, let one of the saboteurs have a Quirk that let’s them be dollar tree version of Mr. Compress, or maybe they snuck in, if only barely. Heck, maybe after Kurogiri is freed, AFO placed the data for inside of UA and the team meant to rampage in it (thanks to the spies) inside of Shiggy’s mask and Kurogiri warped the taskforce in after the factl There are ways to go about it to make it work. Just allow people like Kaminari and Momo to get more to do than off-screen deal with Twice copies!!! 

But, with that in mind, every location needs a boss of some sort, right?...So why not have the one in charge of such operations be Giran? Have him sneak into UA via his muddle Quirk and make him the director of sabotage for the Villain forces, something he’d be proud to do since he’d want revenge for Twice's death. As for how he doesn’t get folded instantly when found out, if you don’t want to have him unguarded, you can have him use his/Detenerat’s support items to hold off Heroes long enough to make some play happen for his side. I just think it’d be a fitting way to end his story trying to payback the man who saved his life instead of just…not existing after a while.

Boss: Giran

League: Mustard

Jailbreaker: Mummy

Shie Hassaikai: Chronostasis, Mimic, Nemoto, Garbage Trio

PLF: Saboteurs (Tajima, Mihaera, and three people no one cares about)

Gunga Villa

Last, but not least, we got the Gunga battlefield…which is very much due for an uplift. Seriously, the battlefield against the Demon Lord should not have been so damn barren like in canon. Even the Nomus that got sent with him, who were giving everyone else so much trouble, went down likes chumps. So…how to correct it?

Simple! Make it the powerhouse buffet with all the heaviest of hitters being sent there. Woman and her analytical skills mixed with her bloodlust? She’s there to kick ass like the rampaging beast queen that she is, and ensure that the the Heroes really don’t get that much of a break while AFO is wrapped up fighting Team Endeavor in the skies.

Rappa of the Eight Bullets rampaging through the battlefield, knocking out people clean up until Kirishima arrives on Machia - then the rematch of a lifetime could occur!!! I will never stop harping on this, I truly believe we should have gotten a Kirishima and Rappa rematch in the Final War, and its a WASTE Rappa/none of the yakuza besides Overhaul returned!!!

Toxic Chainsaw, the name-dropped foe that All Might whooped back in the 1st chapter and could have probably been a neat callback? Add in Dreadlock Jailbreaker having a spike quirk and the threat from a living pincushion and toxic waste shoots the threat level way up. These guys I’ld probably leave as a deal opponents for the Shiketsu side of things, to give them some form of meaningful foe to clear out before taking on AFO.

Finally, the name-dropped Sanctum and the rest of the Twice Squad serving as, well not really AFO back-up, but general mook rallying nonetheless so the battlefield for this affair is a bit more of semi-organized affair for the Villains instead of a huge mosh pit where they got wiped out so easily.

Boss: AFO

Jailbreaker: Toxic Chainsaw, Dreadlock Jailbreaker

Nomu: Woman

Advisors: Sanctum & other Twice Advisors

Return: Rappa, Habit Headgear, Tesla, Victor

-

Ultimately, this was how I'd split them up! I tried to give each battlefield someone related to the League or who we have seen could be a credible match for the Heroes.

ALso saw fit to give an expalnation as to why some are here and others elsewhere...or not here at all.

Why isn't Re-Destro here?

Because I think the idea of Redestro going down fighting allow the PLF to escape is actually a good idea and could have lead to more development for his top brass, with the post-war showing how each of them are trying to carry on the organization's will. Geten's furious and preparing his Quirk more, Skeptic is actually training to defend himself and other better, Trumpet is channeling his inner Usopp and just lying to every straggler he finds to bolster their forces.

Why is the Shie Hassakai helping AFO?

Mutual benefit. The SH wants Overhaul back, AFO can free him if they win. Also, in Rappa's case, he just wants to brawl so he's imediately on board.

Why only Movie 2 villains on-board?

Because they're the only movie villains that are both in Japan, and not arrested internationally. I mean, I could have tried to incldue Wolfram and his dudes, if I wanted? But if I do ever make a pitch for a new Dark Deku Jailbreaker arc, I'd rather save him for that.

Aaaaaand, that's that?

Regardless, this is pretty much just a thought experiment on my part so hope you got some enjoyment from it!! Think I could have done any of these battlefields better?

[magpod-confessions]

(loosely responding to a confession i saw a while back, but just a lot of stuff in general)

i don't like how the fandom is so quick to slap labels like 'sexist, racist, misogynistic, etc' onto anyone who dislikes a certain character. i know these things are very much an issue, especially in fandom culture, but it's really anoying when people will just throw those labels around just because people dislike a character that happens to be a woman of colour. because 1. people are allowed to just dislike characters 2. people can have perfectly good reasons for disliking minority characters that have nothing to do with them being part of a minority group

specifically i want to talk about preferring michael distortion over helen distortion. obviously michael is widely depicted as a white man, while helen is widely depicted as a black woman so it's easy to look at the general favouritism towards michael and shout racism and misogyny. but that doesn't account the numerous reasons people could have to prefer michael over helen that have absolutely nothing to do with helen being black or being a woman. So, I present several such reasons:

(now, to the people that are going to say "why are you comparing them?? they are different characters and you should treat them like it" first of all, why have you read this far. second of all, that does not apply here. these are not two seperate characters. these are two different interations/personas/whatever of the same being. comparison should be expected if not encouraged)

michael is more interesting than helen. becuase michael is the distortion when jon and the viewer know very little about the distortion and the fears, he gets to be more cryptic, he can hint at things and and be all mysterious and vague about the nature of himself and the world. helen on the other hand is the distortion when we have a much better idea of the distortions nature and the fears and how they work. thus, she has less opportunity to be cryptic and vague and mysterious, which , in my opinion, is one of michael's best qualities-and what makes him so loved by the fandom. helen attempts to be weird and cryptic like michael, but it's just very repetitive and boring because we already know how everything works and there is very little she can hide from us

michael is a more 'iconic' character. this basically comes down to, he's more quotable. he has his whole trademark laugh and all his great quotes "i am not a who archivist i am a what" "how would a melody decribe itself when asked" "does your hand in any way own your stomach" "there has never been a door there archivist your mind plays tricks on you" i could go on. i'm sure helen has some great lines as well but i don't know any off the top of my head, which honestly proves my point a little. anyway, helen doesn't have all that. probably becuase the writers didn't want her to feel too similar to michael but yeah. this reason is a bit basic but it's still true

michael is made to seem more important. I just want to clarify, what i mean here when i say a character is more importamt here, is that the podcast makes this character seem more important. they both had their effect on the storyline, but the show definitely makes one of them seem more important and influential (this reason encompasses a lot of things so i'm sorry if it gets a bit ramble-y) this kinda ties in with the michael being more mysterious thing. micheal is treated as this mysterious unknown character, a potential threat, an antagonist at some points. Michael affects the characters quite a lot, and jon specifically seems to dwell on him a lot. So despite having a lot less screentime than helen, he's built up to be quite an important figure. Helen is not treated as important by the show in the same way. by the time she comes along, the whole mystery and drama of the distortion has already happened, so she isn't that important. she becomes a little irrelevant to the plot, occaisionally popping in to bother jon. and that's what she's really framed as —an annoyance, a bit of a nuisance, but not that important or influential. especially in season 5, she becomes almost a comedic relief character. mag 187 is the exception to this, where she is very important for about one episode before being almost immediately forgotten about. her effect on the characters is made to seem important only in retrospect. michael remains relevant even after his 'death' because he plays an important role in jon's struggle with his humanity and his conflict over gertrude's morals. even though michael has very little screentime compared to helen, every bit of it is made to feel relevant and important to the overall plot. I AM NOT SAYING MICHAEL IS ACTUALLY MORE IMPORTANT THAN HELEN. YOU CAN LOOK AT HELEN'S EFFECT ON THE PLOT AS MUCH AS YOU LIKE. I AM SAYING THE PODCAST ITSELF CLEARLY MAKES MICHAEL SEEM MORE IMPORTANT. sorry i just want to be super clear on that

michael has a more tragic/serious backstory. we all know what i mean here. michael shelley being manipulated and decieved and betrayed and kept in the dark, to become a monster that's whole purpose was to do those same things to countless innocents—there's so much that can be drawn from that and it's so poetic and interesting. it's also relevant to the overarching plot of the podcast like i said before. and like i mentioned before, helen is treated as a more funny character, not as serious or tragic as michael. don't get me wrong, there is tragedy in her becoming but it is not explored in the podcast canon. you can definitely talk about the srious stuff of helen's character but it isn't as grounded in canon if you do. also michael's death seems more tragic because michael shelley was framed as super innocent and undeserving of his fate while helen richardson was canonically kind of an asshole (not saying she deserved it either of course)

helen replaced michael. this relates to what i said at the start of this list—helen is going to be compared to michael as she is literally his replacement. for one, that does set michael fans against her slightly already because she's complicit in his 'death' a tiny bit. but the real problem is, she's expected to live up to michael—while also being different enough that it doesn't feel like the same character—which i personally don't feel that she does. i think i'd like her better if she was her own character and hadn't replaced michael, and i think that's a big reason that many people that prefer michael don't like her as much. it's also a valid reason to dislike a character. also, this has absolutely nothing to do with her being a woman of colour in fanon. if she was another white boy i'd still probably dislike her when she didn't live up to michael standards.

that's all i can be bothered to write, i think i had more ideas but i forgot sorry lol. anyway, notice how none of those reasons had anything at all to do with helen being a woman or often being depicted as black? if michael had been a woman of colour and helen had been a white man instead, these reasons would still apply

anyway i spent so long on this i thought of a couple reasons someone might preferhelen because i still love her and i don't want to make it seem like i dislike her. i don't. i just prefer michael but helen is still definitely top5 tma characters for me for sure.

we get to see the distortion adapt to it's new identity as helen which is super cool (i do not understand why no one talks about this.like hello????? it's so interesting?)

sometimes it's nice to have a more funny character, especially the juxtaposition between the more dark stuff of the podcast and lighthearted moments between helen martin and jon in season 5

i like her more subtle manipulations and the whole 'fake friend' thing. i thought that was a really interesting concept and a good way of bringing something new to the distortion

anyway, i know that white-twink-favouritism is an issue within the tma fandom (and dare i say tumblr as a whole) but let's remember than not everyone who likes or dislikes certain characters or prefers one character over another does so because they are sexist or racist. there are so many different reasons for someone to dislike or like characters that have notihing to do with race or gender.

i notice this debate particularly with michael and helen and i agree there could certainly be an element of sexism and a bit of racism too (not racism so much because she is not canonically black it's just a fanon thing so racist people probably just see her as white idk) but i think most people have genuine reasons like these to prefer michael and should not be called sexist or racist for having preferences.

🗣️ if i remember right mod i know you prefer helen so disagree with me if you wish. I'M NOT SAYING MICHAEL IS OBJECTIVELY BETTER THAN HELEN I'M POINTING OUT REASONS THAT A LOT OF PEOPLE PREFER HIM. i'm not really here to debate whether michael or helen is 'better' i just wanted to point out something that annoys me a bit

oh my god you are so right anon. at the end of it all both distortions are just. the distortion. michael was more impactful to the actual story as a whole, being one of gertrude's assistants, but helen is also super important in jons journey into avatarhood. both of them affected how jon sees himself through this ( him seeing himself as a monster definitely is also from the distortion ) in their own ways , and while helen is more of comedic relief , she still is new. she's fresh. she is a blank slate for the distortion after having been michael for so long and that is so interesting , especially with how she feels at the very start after merging. - deceit

Agree agree agree. I love helen sm and I find her incredibly interesting (and well the disortion in general) and I do prefer her over Michael personally (partly bc im gay as hell), but I definitely understand why ppl love Michael sm. And yea I dont think ppl should be called sexism or racist over liking a character. Like theres a big difference between liking a character for genuine reasons and liking them bc you have a bias. Idk yea - Rosette

[youkaigakkou-tl]

The TRUTH behind the soul pieces

Preamble: I started writing this expecting nothing, but I actually found something??? not clickbait???? gone right???

Warning: the expected reaction of reading this is “damn. I’ve never seen someone grasp harder at straws” and “I dunno about this one chief”

So. "The soul pieces aren't exactly what we're told they are" is an idea I've had for a while now. (I wouldn’t even call it a theory, it’s just a passing thought.) Not that "they're manifestations of Haruaki's traits" is wrong, but I think there's more to them than immediately obvious. I just haven't talked about this much because even I don't fully buy into it and it kinda verges on horoscope-type confirmation bias territory. It’s kind of a, I THINK there’s more to it but I don’t know what exactly is more.

A brief recap

First one shown is his "worldly desires", animal trio vs Seiryuu.

Second is his "freak athleticism", that Kurahashi's team and Ebisu just ran into.

With just these two he runs off to find Sano

Third is his "cowardice", found by Sano's team and Byakko, which gets away and hides in Sano's pocket.

Fourth is his "memory", originally found by Hijita's team and Genbu, which gets picked up by Genbu and then the whole Heian flashback happens.

And last is his "intelligence", which for some reason is also the one that can use his exorcism power.

So immediately a couple details stood out to me.

Why is "memory" here?? I wouldn't call that a trait exactly??

Also, when it first broke apart and flew off in five directions, it's specifically pointed out that it's "like a five pointed star" (even though it's not really if you look at the actual locations on a map lol)

And the sticking point, if it was as clean and simple a split as “Haruaki’s traits”, why do the traits bleed into each other? “Athleticism” is into sailor uniforms too, and “Cowardice” and “Intelligence” are pretty quick by themselves. Also, even without his “Memory” at the time, he remembered that conversation with Seimei in ch87.

The five pointed star detail, considering everything in the arc heavily relates to the Four Gods and Seimei's star, which relates to Wuxing, almost begs to be referencing that too.

What is Wuxing?

Wuxing, five elements, five phases, gogyo, whatever other name for it: I’ve talked about it briefly in my Kyoto arc analysis

(Wait. Is this actually all I mentioned regarding Wuxing in that analysis???? This tells you nothing!!)

(Tbh I think I had a longer explanation about it but I cut it because I thought it was irrelevant)

Wuxing 五行, roughly translated as five elements or phases, is a concept that comes from Taoism. The five elements are Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal and Water and describes the interactions between them. Here’s the wikipedia page if you really want to get into the details.

The “xing” means movements/moving, and the entire concept of Wuxing comes from the five classical planets’ (Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn) movements affecting… things? In general? (It’s horoscopes)

In fact, the names of those five planets in Chinese and Japanese are tied with the Wuxing:

Mercury = 水星 water star

Venus = 金星 metal/gold star

Mars = 火星 fire star

Jupiter = 木星 wood star

Saturn = 土星 earth star

You’re taught these as a kid but not the reasoning behind it (because it’s hella irrelevant lmao) but I guess it kinda makes instinctual sense? (Venus = yellow, Mars = red, Jupiter = stripes, like tree rings?? Saturn = brown. Mercury = it looks like there’s rivers? idk how much detail they were seeing in the BC times)

And just to sate curiosity, the planets that were discovered after telescopes were invented are just based off the English names

Uranus = 天王星 sky god star

Neptune = 海王星 sea god star

Pluto = 冥王星 underworld god star

By the way, this is also why the days of the week are named after elements in Japanese; it’s not actually the elements, rather it’s referring to the celestial bodies: those 5 planets + the moon and the sun. It’s the classical Chinese system that Japan adopted around the 5th century AD, and they haven’t changed it since then. (Chinese uses stuff like “weekday 1” for monday now.) And China itself adopted the Greco-Roman system of the 7 day week, days named after celestial bodies around the 4th century AD, which is also why the planets and days line up if you look at the English and Japanese names now.

Would be crazy if they independently decided to have 7 days in a week and name days after celestial bodies and assigned the same planets to the days huh.

(Also, TIL from looking at this chart that the sun (taiyang) is indeed called that because it’s the “great yang star”, and the moon is called the “great yin star”, you know, like yin-yang)

I’m remembering why it’s so hard to research and write about this stuff now. Everything is so inextricably connected to everything else its hard to talk about one thing in isolation. Thanks for indulging my astronomy tangent I love astronomy.

(I always got saturn on da mind when I think about Seimei cus of this art…)

The only useful part of this essay

So. Wuxing. Here’s a pretty standard diagram of it so it’s easier to visualise

There are five types of processes Wuxing describes:

Generating: Wood feeds fire

The reverse side of generating: Fire burns wood

Regulating: Wood grasps earth

Excessive regulating (destruction): Wood depletes earth

The reverse side of regulation (exhaustion): Earth rots wood

And here’s a full list of it, from wikipedia

With this in mind, you’ll notice that it pops up all over the place in Kyoto arc!

If we take lightning as aligned with metal (because Byakko = metal = lightning user), this is the regulating interaction of metal -> wood

Metal cuts wood, but wood also dulls metal

Water… nourishing wood….???

Water destabilizes earth

(“This is just pokemon lol” WRONG!! Pokemon types and every other element system in videogames came from Wuxing!! (Or Godai))

Back to the soul pieces

So you see, it’s incredibly tempting to connect the five soul pieces with the five elements of Wuxing. It’s basically begging for it. The Wuxing has been associated with lots of things that come in sets of five, including things like senses, tastes, smells, emotions, mental qualities, periods of one’s life, body parts. It has applications in divination and traditional chinese medicine after all. If there was a clear, 1-to-1 match between the soul pieces and the elements, you bet I would have talked about it more by now. But the connections are tenuous at best, and even I don’t really believe it. They might, probably, just be the traits we’re told they are. So this really is just to humor myself, and maybe someone can glean something more from this.

Let’s lay out the things surrounding the soul pieces:

“Desires” was at Arashiyama (a bamboo forest) and Seiryuu was present, both associated with Wood

“Athleticism” was at Ginkaku-ji (silver pavilion), none of the four gods were present, no obvious element associations here.

“Cowardice” was at Mount Kurama (mountain = earth?), Byakko was present (metal?)

“Memory” was at Kiyomizu-dera (clear water temple), and Genbu was present, water association

“Intelligence” was at Kinkaku-ji (gold pavilion), and none of the four gods were present initially. (gold = metal?)

The other thing I’ve yet to mention is all the soul pieces seem to be of different points in Haruaki’s life. (Well. Four of them at least.)

“Desires” and “Athletics” seem to look and act younger (as much as you can tell with chibis…), both wearing simple t-shirts, and “Athletics” t-shirt and shorts look like what Haruaki wore as a kid in the Miki arc flashback. Adding on to that, we’re constantly told how into sailor uniforms Haruaki was as a little kid (literally whenever his childhood gets brought up: Mamaaki talking about it in ch8, him saying his first cry as a newborn was “sailor uniform” in ch43, the ch51.5 extra) (ok to be fair. his sailor uniform fetish gets brought up at every opportunity. but i feel like it’s Pretty emphasized here) Also I feel like “Desires” especially talks like a kid.

Meanwhile “Cowardice” and “Memory” are dressed the way he currently does, and “Cowardice” seems to parallel the way Haruaki was at the start of the series. It’s Sano’s team that runs into him, he acts like how Haruaki did early on just amped way up, and he ends up hiding on Sano.

IQ-kun… still don’t know what to make of him and how he fits into this lol

Put like this, doesn’t it almost seem like, in the order they appear, they represent points in Haruaki’s life too?

Or, this could all be nothing, because they’re all wearing the same thing in the jacket for Volume 14.

So anyway, from this angle, it seems like Desires and Athletics line up fairly cleanly with Wood and Fire respectively, but Cowardice, Memory and Intelligence are a little murkier. Cowardice only somewhat lines up with Earth, and both Memory and Intelligence could align with Water, while Memory could also be Metal. (I dropped the quotation marks bc they were getting distracting)

Here’s a diagram to illustrate.

(See it’s kinda, pick-and-choosey, horoscope-type shit)

Immediately a couple problems arise. First and most majorly is the horoscopey-ness of it all. And then there’s the matter that, if the four gods represent four out of five of the elements and earth is the outlier, wouldn’t it also make sense if IQ-kun as the outlier would be assigned that?

There’s also the possibility that the first four are a set, and IQ-kun makes up the “yin” to the rest of Haruaki’s “yang” (But then what would the first four correspond to individually? idk….)

We’re getting nowhere with this analogy, so let’s look at some adjacent philosophies in sets of five, just for fun, and see if they line up any better.

Traditional Chinese Medicine

This one is the most related to Wuxing, there are five main “organs” in TCM that have associated Wuxing elements. They might be called the same names as the anatomical organs, but they’re actually more like concepts only roughly correlated with locations on the body. This is stuff codified thousands of years ago before modern knowledge of the human body, mind you.

Heart (fire): stores the “aggregate soul” (the mind)

Spleen (earth): governs transportation of qi and blood, and governs muscles and limbs

Lung (metal): stores the “po 魄” (physical soul)

Kidney (water): responsible for willpower or fear

Liver (wood): governs free flow of qi, blood and emotions. Stores blood, which stores the “hun 魂” (ethereal soul)

(The wikipedia page I linked has more in depth descriptions)

And if we sorta line up the attributes…

Desires = Liver/wood

Athleticism = Spleen/earth

Cowardice = Kidney/water

Memory = Lung/metal

Intelligence = Heart/fire

Something like this? It doesn’t line up particularly nicely either, and certainly doesn’t line up with the first theory…

But reading up on this actually brought something useful to my attention: the concept of “hun” and “po”

See, there’s this Chinese compound word “hun po 魂魄” that generally just means “soul”, but if you get really semantic they’re two different types of souls?

The “hun” is the yang-aligned “ethereal soul” typically understood as the wits/mind of a person, whatever constitutes the personality, and is the part of the soul that leaves the body on death.

The “po” is the yin-aligned “physical soul”, sometimes described as the “baser animal spirit” of a person, and is attached to the body.

This could explain why Haruaki’s soul is also Seimei’s soul, but also Seimei is in the underworld?

This scene I got real hung up about in my Kyoto arc post?

It lining up and being a reasonable explanation is one thing, but whether sensei is deliberately referencing a property of Chinese linguistics that doesn’t have an equivalent in Japanese kanji is another thing. And honestly, I could see Tanaka “I’ll have to read up on Chinese history, but off the top of my head Byakko and Seiryuu are from 4000BC and Suzaku and Genbu are younger” Mai could and would do it. (Good god, what I wouldn’t give to see sensei’s notes. Yohaji fanbook explaining every cultural reference PLEASEEEE IM BEGGINGGG)

Godai

Godai (“the five great (elements)”), while also a thing with five elements that features prominently in Japanese culture, differs from Wuxing in that it originates from the concept of Mahābhūta in Indian Buddhism, and features Fire, Water, Earth, Wind and Void. It’s a more inert definition and describes the elements as building blocks, contrasting with Wuxing which is more concerned with the balancing and interaction between the elements and the changes they cause in each other.

Godai also isn’t ever depicted as a star (and Wuxing is only depicted as a star as a byproduct of all the arrows denoting the interactions, sometimes the 5 elements are arranged like the 5 side of a dice with lines connecting everything) and is typically depicted as a Gorinto, a stone structure.

In order from top to bottom, it goes Void, Wind, Fire, Water, Earth, and represents the structure of the universe in Buddhism.

So. Attributes and if they line up any better.

Earth: unmoving, stability

Water: fluidity, adaptability, motion

Fire: passion, power, energy

Wind: growth, freedom

Void: the spirit? thought? there’s not really a clear description of this one. To begin with, originally in Buddhism, it’s just said that “from void emerged air, from air emerged fire, (etc)”

I could see wind = Memory and void = Intelligence, but the rest… I dunno man

The five aggregates in Buddhism

And now, following the thread back from Godai, to the Buddhist concept of Skandhas, or the “five aggregates of clinging”, described as the five factors that make up a sentient being’s personality. (Hey, this sounds like it could be onto something here!)

The five aggregates are:

Form or matter: the material form of a person

Sensation or feeling: the five senses + intellectual sensation, and the feelings that occur whether pleasant, unpleasant or neutral

Perception: cognition and recognizing what has been previously noted

Mental formations: dispositions, or something that motivates a person to take action (or sometimes described as the influences of a previous life?!)

Consciousness: cognizance, or the base that supports experience, sometimes translated as mind, intelligence or life force

Wait… This kinda… lines up…? No way…?

Form = Athleticism

Sensation = Cowardice

Perception = Memory

Mental formations = Desires

Consciousness = Intelligence

This… kinda works? They all basically line up and it’s not too tenuous, and there’s enough matching details in the descriptions of the five aggregates that it’s kinda scary…?

I’ll be real, prior to writing this section I hadn’t actually read the descriptions of each of them too carefully (I had the tab open and roughly noted the descriptions kinda worked) and I entirely expected to end this essay with a “in conclusion: no conclusion i learned nothing lol” but there’s actually something here????

And Tanaka Mai is known to reference Buddhism a lot, so this could entirely be intentional…??? I’m kinda shaken rn tbh

I mean, I guess I should have looked to Buddhism first considering sensei’s track record, what with how the arc opened with Haruaki getting put under a waterfall to get rid of his worldly desires, and how 3 out of 5 locations were Buddhist temples, but Buddhism concepts usually use their Sanskrit names and I don’t know how to google for that… (making excuses. classic)

Um. Hope you enjoyed reading this and that you learned something? Here’s all the relevant wikipedia pages if you want to go down your own rabbit hole:

Wuxing (Chinese five elements)

Godai (Japanese Buddhism five elements)

Mahābhūta (Indian Buddhism five elements)

Hun and po (two concepts of souls)

Skandha (five aggregates that make up a person)

Twelve Nidanas (didn’t mention this one, but it’s related to skandhas)

If you read all this you should read all my other long rambly things too if you haven’t, they’re all under the #rambles tag 👍

[fieldofdaisiies]

Modern AU based on Blue Neighbour by Troye Sivan. Eris and Azriel used to be childhood best friends and in their teens they discovered they have feelings for each other. Beron found out about them and punished Eris and forced him to break the contact with Azriel. But when Beron dies years after, Azriel… songs used for this story: Wild, Fools, Talk Me Down, Youth, Rush, One of Your Girls (all from Troye Sivan) for @azrisweek | azrisweek masterlist | read on ao3 | includes explicit content

A loud, buzzing sound rings out in the otherwise silent meeting room. Azriel's hand immediately slams down on his thigh, trying to press the silent button of his phone through his suit pants — without success. He needs to pull it out, which is something Rhysand, his boss, doesn't like to see at all.

The phone is in Azriel's hand for a mere second when Rhys's voice echoes through the meeting room, his gaze stern when it lands on Azriel, "No phones in the meeting room!"  

I guess that rule doesn't apply to everyone here because when the baby daddy gets sent a photo from little Nyx, he is rather quick to check his phone, completely ignorant to the no-phone rule, Azriel thinks, but doesn't dare voice. 

He only tips his chin at his best friend and slides his phone back into the pocket of his pants, only for it to resume its vibration against his leg.

Rhys' gaze is still on him, still stern and slightly reprimanding. Azriel decides not to risk it and wait until the end of the meeting. The call can't be that important, can it?

Later, Azriel learns that he was wrong. The call was important, and the news he learns from the accompanying text messages pulls the rug out from beneath his feet. 

Two missed calls and a message appear on his screen alongside some Instagram notifications that now seem very irrelevant. Azriel enters the break room, his phone already unlocked, and opens the messages from his mother. His heart slams to a halt.

Mum: Beron Vanserra passed away in the early morning hours. We are all invited to the funeral on Sunday, 11 am. Greg and I are leaving this evening. Join us, please! Love, mum!

Azriel's hands start to tremble, turning a little clammy. He never considered going home again, not after everything that happened, not since New York had become his new home. 

He opens the chat, his thumb hovering above the letters, unsure how to respond. He doesn't want to leave his mother on read, especially not after a message like this, but he has no idea what to say… or do. 

Azriel: Thank you for the information. I'll consider it.

He shoves his phone back into his pocket and helps himself to a cup of coffee before returning to the meeting room. 

Maybe going home after more than ten years isn't that bad of an idea, Azriel thinks, but he knows it will re-open wounds that have finally almost healed.

And Azriel would see him again. Beron Vanserra's son. Eris Vanserra. And Azriel doesn't quite know if he likes the thought of that. 

How will it go? How will he feel seeing him after such a long time? The last time he saw him, he was seventeen, a boy; now, he is almost 28, a grown-up man. 

A lump the size of a peach starts to form in his throat, and he has difficulty swallowing even the smallest sip of coffee. His hands are still shaky, and breathing seems a little harder now. Azriel's gaze moves to stare at the tiny droplets of rain cascading down the floor-to-ceiling window.

They haven't spoken since he moved away, though the first few years in New York were filled with missed calls from Eris that went unanswered and were eventually blocked. He couldn't do that to him, give him hope, string him along, not when there was so much at risk.

Azriel tips his head to the side to think, to recall a moment in the past, a few strands of hair shifting with the movement. A few years ago, when Nesta, his best friend's girlfriend, downloaded Instagram for him, he found Eris and tried to follow him. The man never accepted his request and left Azriel with no idea what had happened in Eris' life. It makes him feel uneasy. Sad.

Did Eris move away? Did he stay in the village they grew up in? Did he fall in love? Did he marry? Has he fallen in love again?

Somehow, the thought of this makes a large crack appear in Azriel's heart, and he shakes his head a little. He will have his answers soon and then have to live with them, no matter the outcome. He wouldn't be staying long, only for the funeral. He doesn't have to worry or care about Eris for longer than the weekend. It should all be alright–

"Break's over!" Rhysand claps his hands. "Let's continue, shall we?"

Reluctantly, Azriel follows him back into the meeting room, his mind racing with questions he tries to push away. He doesn't want to think about Eris or seeing each other again,- but he can't avoid the directions his mind wanders.

Will they talk? How will they act around each other after so many years? How will Eris speak to him? Treat him?

His string of thoughts –thank God– is cut short when Rhysand directly addresses several questions that Azriel is too distracted and unfocused to answer. Usually, he is perfect at his work, but right now, his thoughts have strayed all over the place. He fidgets with a pencil, constantly flipping it over or tabbing a melody against the tabletop.

In the past, he had no real reason to consider returning home. He didn't have anyone to return home to. His mother moved away with him, and his abusive father left with his new family to settle in the West many years before he'd left that village with his mother. Azriel hasn't heard from his father since their move, which he isn't unhappy about. He is relieved to no longer have such a person in his family.

"The documents are on my desk by Monday, got that, Az?"

Azriel clears his throat and nods. He has no idea which documents Rhysand is talking about, but he’ll figure it out. Now, other things matter more- namely, making up his mind. Should he attend the funeral with his mother and her new husband, or should he stay and leave his past entirely behind?

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Mum: We're leaving at seven. Have you made up your mind? Love, mum.

Azriel has only stared at the text since returning to his loft. It is long past seven now, and he hopes that they have already left. It would buy him more time. More time to consider his decision and think about all the possibilities that could come up when he returns home. When he sees him.

Eris Vanserra. His first friend. His best friend. His first love. His first kiss. His first time. His first heartbreak. 

Returning back to the village he grew up in, to the place he once loved so much and that later hurt him so much, isn't an easy decision. He was a young man then and hoped never to spend a day without Eris. They had made plans for their future that he tried to push as far away as possible in the years after he left but plans that he now remembers.

They often talked about it, relaxing in the meadow below the bright afternoon sun, limbs entangled, lips mere inches apart. 

What if, what if we run away?

What if, what if we left today?

What if we let them fall behind and they're never found?

Everything was good in those moments. Together, they had dreams, hopes of a promising and bright future shared with each other. They wanted to move to New York together, study at the same university, get married, adopt children - but it was all wishful thinking. None of it came true. Azriel went to New York alone because he had to. But nothing was keeping him in his hometown either. No one was holding him there…

Azriel folds a scarred hand over his eyes. The marred skin of his hands still serves as a reminder of his twisted and messed up childhood, a reminder that his step-brothers never faced anything more than reprimanding for whatever they did to him. 

He doesn't allow himself to go down that traumatic path, and he reminds himself that their torture is wholly and entirely over and will remain in his past. He will never see his father, step-brothers, or step-mother again. That won't happen. He wouldn't allow it.

Instead, Azriel thinks back to the day he left and the tears he shed. He cried from the village to the airport, wetting the fabric of his mother's shirt as she held him in her arms and let him sob into her shoulder. The questions that plagued him on that ride to the airport plague him now, and he mulls them over once more:

What if Beron had never caught them? What if they had never fallen in love? What if he stayed and—?

Azriel sits up and wipes a cold hand over his face, brushing back a few strands of hair. A deep sigh parts his lips, and he turns on his phone. The picture of him, Nesta, Gwyn, Emerie, and Cassian staring back at him from the glowing screen

He recalls vomiting the moment he opened the door at the airport, and later, on the plane, he opened up to his mother, telling her everything about his sexuality and Eris. His mother had long suspected that Azriel and Eris had been more than just best friends, but she never said anything, wanting to give him time to open up. While holding his hand on the plane, she told him she didn't care if he liked boys or girls and would love him nonetheless. He will always be her little boy whom she is immensely proud of and loves wholeheartedly. 

Azriel inhales a breath that feels too heavy and too large for his lungs, which have somehow constricted. He starts to type.

Azriel: You don't have to wait for me. I'll take a cab tomorrow morning. 

Instantly, almost as if waiting for his reply, his mother sends a thumbs-up, and then three dots appear. It will take her a moment to answer. Azriel knows this, and he closes his message. In the meantime, he goes on Instagram, flicking through pictures of his best friends and their girlfriends, and with a loud sigh, he closes the app again. All those happy couples…

Azriel lets himself fall back into the bed, groaning when his sore back slams into the pillows. He drops his phone onto the mattress beside him, waiting for the ping of response.

Mum: Alright, Azriel. But let me know when you arrive so we can let you in. We'll be staying at Uncle Devlon's place. Love, mum.

Azriel is now the one to send a thumbs up.

Mum: It will be fine, my dear, don't worry about seeing Eris. I'm sure he missed you just as much as you missed him. Don't be afraid. 

He leaves the message unanswered, trying to figure out how to respond. He isn't particularly afraid or worried. He doesn't know what he feels—too much at once, too little, or maybe nothing. 

Azriel flips his phone away and folds a hand over his eyes, shielding them from the city lights filtering through the window. New York is falling asleep, but he is wide awake, far away from sleeping. 

Deafening silence fills the room, surrounded by darkness; he suddenly realises that he is worried that Eris will ignore him. Concerned that there will only be small talk between them. Worried that Eris has moved on without him and no longer thinks about him like Azriel does. Worried that–

There will never be a future for them. And maybe this is good. Maybe Eris has moved on—of course he has, Azriel thinks. He has probably found a wife or a husband, and perhaps he even has children now. Ten years is a long time; a lot can happen in ten years. 

Azriel's head starts spinning from all the thoughts and questions, so he decides to get up, shower, and start packing for his weekend trip. 

His hair is still damp when, half an hour later, he returns to his bedroom. He dons some sleeping pants and falls into the bed, curling up on his side. His alarm is set, his phone is in flight mode, and his vague but adequate messages to Cassian and Rhysand are sent (he's going on a little trip for the weekend, and his destination and purpose are unrevealed).

A silent tear slips out of his eye, accompanied by a soft sob. One thing becomes apparent: yes, he is going home, but he is not going home to him. He will return to the village he grew up in, but not to Eris. 

The lie he's told himself these past years, that he stopped caring about Eris, that he has stopped thinking about him, suddenly falls apart. Azriel has thought about him. A lot. And he still does. And sometimes, many times, he finds himself yearning for how it once used to be. 

He wants to sleep next to him. And that's all he wants to do right now. And he wants to come home to him. And that's all he wants right now.

He doesn't just want to return to the place he once called home; he wants to return to where he fell in love with his best friend. He wants to return to Eris Vanserra, but not as a man whose heart was broken but as someone who can dare to hope for a future together.

He still wants Eris, and he hates that even after ten years, his wanting has never changed.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Azriel's heart presses down on him like a rock heavy with emotion as he closes the cab door. He waves off the driver with his weekend bag in hand and sunglasses pushed back into his hair. He sets off down the dry path leading into the centre of the village and to his uncle's house. The town is small now, and at 28, Azriel notes how close everything else is- his father's house and, a little further down the path, Eris' family home.

Almost like in a movie, pictures flash in front of his vision—of a childhood that seemed unburdened for everyone on the outside. A childhood that maybe wasn't too warm and loving, but one he shared with Eris. They grew up almost in the same exact way, with loving mothers, brutal fathers who didn't shy back from using violence, and brothers who supported that kind of action.

Azriel's jaw tenses, and he stops, only staring ahead at the houses, the facades weathered and dulled over time, at the village stretching out in front of him. Most things have stayed the same. He can make out the same swimming pools, houses, and living rooms he and his friends used to play in. Unchanged little houses with trees on the hills in the far distance where he and Eris used to spend quiet nights together. 

As he walks a little further, he nears an old garden fence. The colour of it is already crumbling, but Azriel still remembers that it was here, right by this fence, next to the big apple tree, where they almost kissed for the first time.

"Are you finally going to tell me what happened?" Eris raises a questioning brow at Azriel, who scrunches his nose in response, his eyes half-closed due to the bright sun. He holds tightly onto his worn school bag and then says, "There is nothing to tell."

"Azriel, I can see your blue eye; it is quite obvious." He reaches out, his fingers curling around Azriel's upper arm, stopping him from walking. "I thought we would share everything with one another."

Azriel shrugs a shoulder. "It was nothing. I ran into–"

"His fist, right. He hit you again, didn't he?"

Azriel shrugs again. 

"I am going to punch him."

"After I punch your father," Azriel chuckles, but the sound lacks warmth or humour. 

"This is messed up," Eris mumbles and steps closer to his best friend, tipping his chin up with his thumb. "But you need to be honest with me. Tell me when he hurts you so I can be there for you."

Slowly, Azriel starts to nod, but then his eyes drop to Eris' lips. Suddenly, He is so much closer, only mere inches away. Eris' eyes are locked with his but also momentarily slide to Azriel's lips, his Adam's apple bobbing. "We can't do this," Eris whispers, but instead of moving away, he leans closer. Azriel does, too, holding his breath. "I know," he answers, his tone equally breathy. "But–"

Eris's baby brother Lucien interrupted them, calling Eris' name from the porch and then running towards the two best friends. Lucien was only seven years old then, and Eris picked him up easily when he reached them—he must be a teenager now.

Azriel remembers that they were both relieved that their moment ended that way, but only two weeks later, they really kissed, and from then on, there was no more holding back. They kissed a lot back then, but always in secret. 

It was two months later that everything they had and loved ended. It was when Beron's cruelty reached its peak, and he—

"Azriel!" The squeaking of door hinges disrupts his daydreaming. "Didn't I tell you to let us know when you arrive?!"

"Mother." Azriel dips his chin after having turned around. "It's good to see you." He cracks a small smile when his mother throws up her hands in despair. 

"You never listen to me, Azriel Marino!"

"I always listen to you, Mama." After closing the distance between them, he wraps his arms around her shoulders and kisses the top of her head. "Always." 

Eleni Marino harrumphs loudly but hugs her son tightly. "Come in. Your uncle is looking forward to seeing you."

Azriel doubts that. His uncle probably only wants to see if he is still the small weakling he always used to call him. But the joke's on Uncle Devlon because Azriel is no longer small or weak. He has grown a lot, including his muscles, which Devlon probably never thought possible. He has changed a lot, and he can't wait to see the look on his uncle’s face. 

"Uncle," Azriel greets upon entering the living and dining room, his chin dipping to his chest, his voice low. His gaze runs over the old man sitting in his armchair - ten years can do a lot to a man – who once used to be a strong and fit army general, is now an old man with white hair and sunken cheekbones. 

"Azriel," he croaks and rises from his chair. "Let me look at you. You have grown up." He assesses him through half-closed eyes, shuffling towards him. "You've grown a lot, boy. How has college been treating you?"

Azriel wants to open his mouth to say that he dropped out of college after the first semester and decided to work instead, but when he meets his mother's gaze, she shakes her head, and it tells him everything he needs to know. 

"College is good. Got good grades and made friends," Azriel says instead, knowing that to keep the peace here, it is wiser to lie a little. Devlon would only ask why he dropped out and then blame them for not having enough money to afford it. Consequently, he would blame Azriel's mother for not working hard enough to make studying at a uni possible for her son. And then blame her for not staying with his father. Abusive or not, it had never mattered to his uncle. So, this small white lie has to do. 

"How's life been treating you, Uncle?"

Devlon shuffles away, wiping his mouth with his hand, and plops down on the armchair again. "Good, good," he mumbles, pulling a blanket over his lap and leaning back. Azriel is sure he dozes off a moment later so he turns back to his mother with a chuckle. 

But there is no amusement on her face. Looking worried, she reaches out her arm to clasp Azriel's hand. "Lunch will be ready in around an hour. Go see him now."

Azriel's throat bobs, his fingers naturally curling tighter around his mother's hand. "What if he doesn't want to see me?"

"You'll only find out if he wants to see you if you go to him. Otherwise, you will be plagued with what-if questions and doubts for the whole weekend. Go see him and talk to him. I'm sure he has missed you just as much." Eleni inhales deeply, "After all, you also used to be best friends at one point."

Best friends and so much more, Azriel thinks. Slowly, he begins to nod, his hands having turned cold, his heart feeling a little heavier, and his feet are somehow rooted to the ground, making it impossible for him to move immediately. He needs just a moment longer, holding onto his mother's hand like he is once again the young man who was sobbing into her shoulder when they left ten years ago. 

"Go now, Azriel. I'm sure he's still at the chapel, preparing everything for the funeral tomorrow."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

With his heart rapidly pounding, Azriel walks down the familiar path to the chapel he used to take many times when he still lived here, his mind swirling with memories. Every step he takes feels heavier as he nears the old house of prayer, wondering if Eris will truly be there. 

He has mindlessly followed his mother's suggestions and now doubt gnaws at him about whether he should have come. Uncertainty clouds his thoughts, and nervousness tightens his chest. What if Eris doesn’t want to see him? What if he ignores him? What if he is mad at him? 

Will he even recognise him after all these years?

Of course he will, Azriel thinks. He hasn't changed much. He has only grown and built up some muscles. His face is still the same.

His heart nearly breaks through his ribcage when he reaches the door, the crisp air burning down his throat with every inhale. For a moment, he feels like fainting or throwing up, but then his hand reaches for the door handle and pulls it down. The door opens slowly, too slowly, and silently. So silently that Eris doesn't notice him. 

He is standing at the altar, arranging some flowers, and for a moment, Azriel forgets how to breathe. 

Eris Vanserra is more beautiful than ever, breathtaking, to say the least. Azriel can't tear his eyes away, slowly letting his eyes run over the man in front of him, and his knees wobble. Eris has cut his hair, but not too short. He also gained some muscles and now wears a beautiful beard that perfectly complements his look.

Azriel stops on the threshold, unable to move further, hand still on the door. 

"Stop that!" Azriel playfully smacks Eris' hand away, lying on the grass, laughing.

"A flower in your hair would look cute."

"I am not cute," Azriel grumbles, sliding his hand into Eris '. The red-haired boy lies down atop his chest and tips his head back to look up at Azriel. 

"You are cute." Eris grins.

"Stop being cheesy."

"Never!" Eris smoothies his freckled hand up Azriel's chest, humming contentedly.

In the middle of this meadow, in the middle of nowhere, far from their village, they are safe. They have taken their bikes to get as far away from prying eyes as possible. Only here can they be true to themselves and love each other more deeply than friends love each other.

"Eris," Azriel hums, lifting the hand that isn't in Eris's hold to brush it through his boyfriend's auburn locks. "You make my heart shake, bend and break. But I can't turn away. And it's driving me wild. You're driving me wild."

Eris hums softly. "I love you, but why do I only find out now that you are one to spout poetry?"

Azriel's laughter rings out over the meadow…

It was probably the last time he had laughed so happily and freely. This moment was beautiful, as was the whole day. Azriel remembers that this day was also when they first slept together.

When he finally catches himself, his hand lets go of the door and he takes one step into the chapel. The inside is cold, and the scent of polished wood, aged hymnals, and candles lies in the air, mingling with the aroma of incense that adds a touch of spice.

Azriel inhales deeply, bracing himself for what he is about to say. A simple greeting, nothing spectacular, but he has no idea if he is ready for it. For whatever is about to follow the greeting. 

But he doesn't have to speculate. Not when Eris has already noticed his arrival.

"I didn't think you would come." He places a candle next to the flowers, then steps back from the altar and turns to Azriel. His eyes run over Azriel slowly, and small flames flicker in Eris' eye. "But here you are. After ten years."

Azriel nearly chokes on his saliva, but in a croaky voice, he manages to say, "My mother—" only for Eris to interrupt him.

"Of course, your mother told you to come here," the red-haired male cuts in. "Of course, she is the reason you are here. She has always checked in. For the past ten years. Has always sent messages for Christmas and my birthday." A small, nostalgic smile appears on Eris' lips, and he wipes his hands down his thighs, clearing the soil and petals from the flower arrangement. 

Azriel didn't know that, and it infuriated him that his mother had never told him—how dare she! How dare she keep contact with Eris and never tell him?

"Don't make it sound like a reprimand," Azriel grumbles. "I wasn't the one to break up–"

"You know why I broke up with you!" Eris counters.

"Because you were a coward."

A snarl parts Eris' lips, hurt flashing in his eyes, and at the exact moment, a pang of hurt pierces right into Azriel's heart. Is this truly how their first meeting after ten years goes?

"Says the one who didn't reach out a single time in all those years." A look of disgust spreads over Eris' face. He shakes his head and then approaches Azriel, stopping right before him. "Not one time."

"I tried to reach out, but you wouldn't accept my request on Instagram!" Azriel snarls,

"I don't even use this app," Eris retorts, "My little brother's girlfriend downloaded it for me, thinking it would be a good way to socialise and maybe meet a partner."

Azriel doesn't really know what to answer. He hoped their first meeting would be different after such a long time, but he had false hopes. Of course, it would go exactly like this. He should have reached out. He should have called, texted, come here, something. 

But he didn't and now must pay the price for it. 

"I didn't forget about you. Is that what you want to hear?"

A cold huff parts Eris' lips, followed by a cynical chuckle. "Hm, too bad that I did. And now I've got things to do. As you might know, my father died." He brushes past Azriel without saying another word, shoving the brown-haired male by his shoulder, and heads for the chapel door. 

He doesn't give Azriel a chance to say something. A moment later, he is gone, and the door falls shut, a tremor coursing through Azriel at the loud pang. 

He is taken right back in time. To the fateful day when his whole life fell apart. The day when Beron–

"I bet you're already hard for me." Azriel chuckles softly, his hand placed on Eris' bare chest, slowly travelling lower until it rests right above Eris' crotch, only the blanket and Eris' boxers separating between them. His lips find the spot right beneath Eris' ear that makes his boyfriend elicit the most sensual noises. Azriel loves those noises and could listen to them forever, so he lets his teeth run over Eris's sensitive skin, then pokes out his tongue and licks it. 

"Always," Eris hums, hips jerking in response to his boyfriend's touch. 

When Azriel's lips ascend, placing a trail of kisses up his boyfriend's throat, he slides his hand beneath the blanket, palming Eris through the fabric of his boxers. 

Their lips meet in a frantic kiss, tongues fighting for dominance when he lets his hand slide beneath the fabric, but—

But the door slams open only a blink of an eye later, rattling the whole room. Beron barrels inside, seething with anger. 

He most definitely drank a lot at the bar beforehand. He should have been longer, a few more hours.

Azriel only remembers a little of what Beron said to them, but a few words stuck. 

"This is disgusting," he spits. "You disgust me!"

He hurdles for the bed, but both boys are unable to move. He is too shocked about Beron catching them and worried about what will happen now that he knows.

"What do you think you are doing, Eris Vanserra?" Beron shouts, pulling Eris up by his arm, and it doesn't take long for the first slap to land upon his face. "Rolling around in bed with a boy! You disgust me." He slaps him again, this time harder.

By now, Azriel is out of bed as well, screaming at the man to let go of his boyfriend and tugging at Beron's arm, but the man is more muscular. He shoves Azriel away; the young man knocks his head against the bedframe, and his vision goes black. Pitch black. Just like his heart, nothing but void filling the place that once used to beat happily for his boyfriend.

The moments after are a blur of consciousness and unconsciousness, and the next thing Azriel remembers is Eris breaking up with him, his face bruised and marred by markings of Beron's anger.

His throat is dry when he leaves the chapel, the back of his mouth aching. He couldn't help him back then because Eris didn't let him. He broke up with him and pushed him away — Beron prohibited them from ever meeting again. He claimed that Azriel had ruined his son, called him all kinds of homophobic nicknames, and threatened to destroy his mother's life should he ever try to get close to Eris again. 

It was the most devastating moment of his life, surpassing even the time when his brothers burned his hands. Beron’s cruelty inflicted wounds on his heart that would never heal.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Azriel's sleep is restless, constantly rolling from one side to the other, the sheets tangled between his legs, his bare chest coated in cold sweat.

Moonlight filters through the curtain-framed window, casting the room in a gentle, blueish glow. It's still night and nowhere close to morning. 

He raises his hand, letting his fingers coast over his lower lip. 

"You need to smile, Az." A grin, reaching from one ear to the other, spreads over Eris' face while he is staring into the camera. "You are always so broody."

"I'm not!" Azriel snaps and playfully shoves his elbow into Eris' ribs who yelps.

"Idiot!" 

"Say that again!" Eris turns to his best friend, and his breath catches. He reaches out, but stops himself.

"Idiot," Azriel chuckles and moves closer.

"Again." Eris leans in, eyes fluttering shut for a second, then dropping to Eris' lips. 

"Id—" Eris' lips close over Azriel, but instead of pulling back, he kisses him right back, his hand falling to his neck, bringing him in a little closer. All hesitance is erased within seconds; there is only Eris on his mind—and his lips.

At first, their mouths meet clumsily, but soon they find their rhythm, lips parting, tongues exploring, tangling, and dancing. Eris places his hands on Azriel's hips, formally having kept them at his side, and that a little awkwardly. He draws Azriel closer, deepening the kiss and eliciting a soft moan from him.

"Not just best friends, huh?" Eris mumbles when pulling back from the kiss. A string of saliva still connects their lips, which he wipes away with the back of his hand.

Tears build up in Azriel's eyes. "I'm in love with you."

"I know," Eris answers, his thumb wiping over Azriel's cheek, catching some stray tears. "And I'm in love with—"

"Fuck!" Azriel rips away the sheets and sits in bed, his whole body feeling clammy from the cold sweat that had built up due to his vivid dreams. He knows he can't stay here, and he knows exactly where he needs to go. He just needs to see Eris and talk to him. He can't let the conversation from earlier hang in the air like this. He needs to fix what he ruined. 

Grabbing the sweater he had earlier discarded in the room and donning it, he is out of the door before he can question his decision to go see Eris. He slips into his shoes as silently as a gazelle and then out the door, hoping his mother won't wake and question him about his whereabouts the following day. 

Azriel straightens up when he walks down the path leading to the gate at the end of the garden. It creaks a little when he opens it, but he ignores it, only one target in mind: Eris. He still knows the way to Eris' place like the inside of pockets. (Maybe a little suspiciously, he queried his mother in the afternoon about whether Eris still lives there, and she confirmed it, so he knows exactly where he needs to go).

Azriel feels a sudden surge of energy – he wants to talk and fix what has been ruined this afternoon. And in the ten years he was absent. 

He walks faster through the large, looming trees, their branches bending in the wind and leaves rustling and swirling. 

Azriel remembers that Eris's favourite season always used to be autumn, and maybe this is a good sign. It is autumn now, visible everywhere outside.  

But his blood runs cold, and his heart slams to a halt when his eyes land on a scene that also twists his gut. Hot and thick, jealousy bubbles up inside him, making the back of his mouth taste bitter.

"Well," Eris laughs, his features bright and joyful, his arm wrapped around the blond male's shoulders. "Thank god I have you."

Tamlin, if Azriel remembers correctly, flashes Eris a big grin. It makes the content of Azriel's stomach sour, and bile creeps up his throat. He can't believe that he truly lost his first love to him. This spoiled, rich prick!

"You are so lucky, Vanserra, to have me. What would you do without me?"

"I guess I would be hopeless," Eris laughs, pulling back his arm and letting it fall to his sides. "Thank you so much, really. For the arrangements, I couldn't have done them all alone, and with you being the best–"

Azriel can't make out the rest or hear what comes after best, but he can only guess that the word that belongs at the end of the sentence is boyfriend. Or worse, husband.

He can't believe it, and in his fury, and by trying to get closer, Azriel doesn't see a more prominent branch on the ground. His foot catches on it, causing him to trip and twist his ankle as he falls. "Fuck!" Azriel groans when his hands come in contact with the damp soil, and then pine needles pierce his skin. "Fucking bastard!"

He sits back on his heels and knows the moment he does, it was a big mistake. His ankle hurts like hell, and he has to bite down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from loudly alerting Eris to the fact that Azriel's sneaking around.

This is all so fucked up, Azriel thinks, and only wants to cry. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>

"There you go," Eleni hands Azriel a new cold pack, then lets her hand rest atop his head. "You should have woken me, I didn't even hear you fall."

"I tried to fall silently," Azriel answers sarcastically and groans when he shifts on the couch. His ankle has swollen significantly overnight; stepping on his foot hurts insanely, but he wouldn't let it show. And he would most definitely never reveal what exactly happened. Another small lie – he tripped at the staircase when he got himself something to drink during the night. 

He doesn't know if his mother truly believed him, but she didn't ask any further questions, and Azriel is more than grateful for that. 

"I've been meaning to take a little boat ride with you, Azriel, but I guess we can forget that now."

As if good old Devlon could still ride a boat, Azriel thinks. "What a shame," he says instead, glancing at his uncle but then back at his ankle and the cool pack. The outer ice layer already starts to melt, and small droplets of cold water run down the sides of his foot. 

Devlon doesn't say anything; a few minutes later, he asks Azriel's mother to follow him outside. They leave, and after checking if Azriel is alright with being alone, Eleni goes back into the kitchen to continue with lunch. 

For a moment, Azriel wonders what his stepfather eats when his mother isn't there. Who cooks for him? Or does he order food or eat at his neighbours?

Honestly, Azriel doesn't care, so he rests his head on the pillow again, gets comfy, picks up his phone, and finds a few unread notifications. Most are from Cassian, who sent him photos and videos or tagged him somewhere. He decides to ignore them for now and clicks on the message from his good friend Gwyn. 

Gwyn: Karaoke at 7, my place?

Azriel: Sorry, I can't.

Gwyn: ☹️

Gwyn: Are you brooding? 

Gwyn: Should I get the romance movies out and come over to your place with some ice cream?

Azriel: You‘re not funny, Berdara…I'm busy.

Gwyn: Busy? Busy how? Are you on a date? 😏

Gwyn: 😏😏😏😏

Gwyn: Is he hot? Send a pic if he is!

Azriel places his phone screen down on the couch table and blows out a long breath. He lifts his gaze to the window, where he sees his uncle and stepfather standing outside in the garden, discussing something about the old cherry tree. He hears his mother in the kitchen, still cooking, and knows he has a bit of privacy.

He picks up his phone and clicks on Gwyn's name. Her lovely smile pops up on his screen when it rings, and then her voice sounds through the speaker, and Azriel lifts his phone to his ear.

"Hey!" Gwyn says, her voice tinged with a hint of worry. "You're alright?"

"I went home."

"Home to your apartment? Or home like…Massachusetts home?"

"The latter."

"Oh god!" Gwyn's voice is loud and tinged with surprise. "I'll ask again, are you alright?"

"I guess I am, I–"

"Eris?"

Just like his other best friends, Gwyn knows about his past with Eris. It wasn't too easy to open up, but on an emotional night together on his rooftop terrace with quite a bit of alcohol in their blood, he poured his heart out to his friend. 

"I thought our first time seeing each other after such a long time would go differently."

"I'm sorry, Az," Gwyn mumbles sadly. "But I think you just need time. Maybe you can ask Rhys if you can stay a little longer?"

"I don't think it will help much." Azriel inhales a deep breath and sighs loudly. "Ten years is a long time, Gwyn. And not checking in with him once…it hurt him more than I could ever imagine." He lets his head fall back into the pillows.

"I understand, and I know that it is a damn long time, but if you still love him, it doesn't matter," Gwyn answers.

"It isn't weird that I still love him after such a long time?" Azriel asks, heart aching so much he folds a hand over his chest.

"Nope," his friend says, popping the p. "The heart wants what it wants, and if two souls belong together, they will eventually find their way back to each other. It isn't weird that you still love him; your first love will always play a big role in your life."

"Thank you."

"There's Nothing to thank me for, Az. Go get your man now." Her laughter is radiant even over the phone, and it gives Azriel the energy he needs to take the next step and do as she said: get his man.

"You think you can make it to the funeral tomorrow or– oh, I am so sorry, I didn't know you were on the phone." 

Azriel places his phone down and shakes his head. "The call just ended, and yes, Mama, I can."

He has to. He didn't come all this way to stay in his uncle's home.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Another sleepless night follows the previous one, and as silly as it might seem to anyone who finds out about it, Azriel leaves Devlon's house once again in the middle of the night. This time limping, though. He drags himself down the staircase, which seems so much longer when you have a torn ankle. He manages to open the front door as silently as possible and slips through it. 

It is the only chance he gets. The funeral is the following day, and then he will leave again. He has to talk to Eris, having been a coward all afternoon.

Once again, he is met by the crisp night air, only the sound of the wind dancing on the lake nearby and rustling the leaves of the large, looming trees in his ears surrounding him. 

Picking up a few pebbles, he heads to Eris' family home. He walks down the small concrete path he has walked probably over two thousand times in his life. It still looks almost the same; a few trees have been cut down during his absence, but other than that, the buildings, the pavement, and the fences are still the same. 

Azriel allows his gaze to stray, looking into some front yards. Even in the dark, he can make out the small swimming pools and swings. He remembers how he and Eris often met up at night, sitting on the swings in his uncle's garden, talking for hours about anything and everything. 

They mostly only returned to their homes when the sun started to rise and slept until midday (of course, that was only possible during their breaks). 

Azriel smoothes his hand through his hair, his heart having and picking up speed the closer he gets to Eris' place. Yesterday he was stopped, but tonight they will speak. His ankle still hurts, but he barely pays any attention to it, so focused on all the thoughts and questions in his mind. 

What if he never moved away? Would they have found a way to be together and maybe already be married now? 

He knows this is a silly fantasy, but one that is so beautiful it almost draws tears to his eyes. He can imagine them being married. He can imagine it so perfectly and loves the thought of it—and that even after ten years. 

He and Eris fell asleep within each other's arms every night, waking together, having breakfast together, going to work, and then spending the evening together. And that on repeat for as long as they live. 

It is what they always dreamt about back then. And it is what Azriel still thinks about now. It felt like that with no one he dated in the past ten years. He never felt like that. He never felt like he would love to spend the next 50 years with them, but with Eris?

With Eris, he can imagine everything.

His heart is racing like a wild horse when he enters the front yard of the large house, half of it swallowed by the large, looming forest behind it. They playfully used to call Eris' home Forest House when they were children, but when Azriel considers it now, he has to admit it really applies to it – it is a forest house.

He circles the house until he reaches his destination, still knowing exactly which window belongs to Eris' room. He climbed through it many times in their teen years, sneaking in in the middle of the night to–

Azriel cuts off his thoughts and turns his attention back to the pebbles in his sweaty palms. His gaze lifts to the window, and before he can stop himself, the first pebble slides out of his hand and strikes. Silence follows. He throws another. Then another. And another. 

He is about to give up, his heart crushing in his chest, pressing down on his stomach, when a light flickers on in Eris' room. Eris appears in front of his window and glances outside, his long red hair tousled, and he is only dressed in thin sleeping pants. 

Azriel lifts his arm, waving, and it takes Eris a moment to adapt to the dark and then spot him. He opens his window, shakes his head, and grumbles in an annoyed voice, "Go home and sleep!"

But Azriel won't give up that easily. "We need to talk." He is too stubborn to give up this time.

"So you can call me a coward again?" Eris huffs loudly.

"We need to talk about us," Azriel presses.

"At three in the morning?" Eris braces his hands on the windowsill, leaning closer. "My father is getting buried tomorrow, I need to sleep."

Azriel swallows his nervousness and worry, and his hands ball into fists, crushing the pebbles. "Please, Eris. Please, listen to me."

Eris steps away from the window, and Azriel's heart drops, just like his shoulders. The light in Eris' room goes off. 

Then there is nothing but silence and darkness. The darkness creeps in around him. The wind howls, and a shudder courses through Azriel. He is shaking when he bends down to pick up some pebbles again, his ankle aching fiercely, but it is nothing compared to the pain inside his heart. It hurts so much.

But he won't give up like that. Not so easily. He messed up the previous day and in the years prior. This is his last chance, and he is going to take it. 

The moment he lifts his hand, ready to throw another small stone, the house's back door suddenly opens. 

Azriel's breath catches, and he feels like his knees will give in at any moment. 

There he is. Having donned a thin tank top, Eris stands in the doorframe, his eyebrow raised. "Talk."

Azriel takes a step forward, trying to act as if everything is fine. "I am sorry for calling you a coward." He limps another step forward, grinding his teeth hard to bite back on the pain. 

"Okay," Eris answers tightly, then his gaze dips, and he looks at Azriel's very obviously swollen ankle. "I assume that happened when you tried to spy on me Friday night? Did you see what you wanted to see?" Eris raises a brow, crossing his arms over his chest, the muscles in his upper arms rippling with the movement. 

"I wasn't spying on you."

"Of course, Spymaster." The corner of Eris' mouth kicks up when he uses the nickname some kids gave Azriel in their childhood. He always used to spy on the adults and steal cookies and cakes when they didn't look, earning him this title. Azriel has completely forgotten about it, and his lips part in silent surprise. 

"I went for a walk."

"At three in the morning?" Eris closes the back door behind him. "That's a normal time for people to take a walk."

"You were also taking a walk with your boyfriend."

"Boyfriend!" Eris almost shouts, then starts to laugh so hard he has to bend over. It infuriates Azriel, and he braces himself for hearing Eris say something like: "He is my husband, you dumbass."

"Tamlin is not my boyfriend." Eris has calmed a little and now approaches Azriel, his bare feet padding softly over the cool, dewy grass. "He is my best friend, and this guy is as straight as a pole and married to Briar. I'm not sure if you remember her."

Azriel can barely swallow around the lump of shame in his throat. "You are not–"

"No, Azriel. But why do you care?"

"Why do you think I care?"

"Yes, this is what I am asking, Azriel. Why would you care? When you didn't care enough to call a single time?"

"You'll never let me forget that, huh?" Azriel spits.

Eris closes the distance between them faster than Azriel can breathe and is in his face the next moment, forehead pressing against his. "Because it broke my fucking heart. It tore me apart and left my soul in shards on the ground. Because I loved you, and you just left me when everything fell apart."

Azriel's heart breaks anew. "Mum was moving away with me; I couldn't have stayed here alone."

"But you could have called."

"You broke up with me." Azriel flattens his palms against Eris' chest, feeling his warm skin despite the cold night air against his palms. But he doesn't push Eris away; he only rests his hands on his ex-boyfriend's chest. "I couldn't reach out again."

"Why?" Eris growls. "What hindered you? I thought you used to love me."

"I did love you," Azriel answers honestly. "That's why I couldn't reach out again. Beron hurt you so much because of me. He forced you to break up with me. He punched you bloody that night, Eris, I haven't forgotten about that. He broke your collarbone." Azriel swallows thickly, tears filling his eyes. "When I think back to this moment, I still hear your cries, I still see the blood–I couldn't let this happen again. You needed to get rid of me, and that for good." 

"Azriel…" Eris breathes, and it seems as if he doesn't know how to continue. 

Azriel's head starts to spin suddenly, having finally revealed the secret he kept to himself for the past ten years. He has finally given Eris the reason for his ignorance, and it feels like a heavy weight is lifted from his chest. 

"You were too good to be good for me." Azriel's breath tingles Eris' skin, his gaze dropping to his lips. "You deserved so much better. You deserved someone else, someone better. You deserve someone better." Azriel looses a long breath that cascades down Eris' throat and his chest. "But that doesn't mean that I have stopped thinking about you." 

"I haven't stopped thinking about you either," Eris admits, voice equally breathy, his hand sliding around Azriel's waist, bringing him closer. "Night and day, you have been on my mind. No matter what I tried, no matter who I was with, it was always you on my mind."

"It was always you, Eris." Azriel's Adam's apple bobs. They breathe the same air, their bodies almost flush against one another. And yet, it feels as if there are millennia between them. The time they have missed.

"Why haven't you told me before?"

"Because I was worried about you. I knew you would find a way to get to me and reach out, and if Beron found out–" Azriel inhales a long breath, his eyes close. "I never knew loving could hurt this good. And it drives me wild, 'cause when you look like that, I've never ever wanted to be so bad; oh god, you are still driving wild, Eris."

"You are driving me wild, Azriel," Eris huffs. "Showing up here like that, looking like that, and–fuck, I still want you the same way. Is that even possible after such a long time?"

Their lips meet in a hasty kiss, and their feet, even Azriel's injured one, move fully on their own accord until Azriel's back is pressed against the wall of the garden shed. Eris' hands vigorously roam his body, tongues tangling when their mouths open to one another. 

Eris' hands and lips still know their way around, and it truly drives Azriel wild and insane. He feels like he is once again getting drunk on the taste of Eris, on the feel of his body against his own, and it seems like a fever dream that this is truly happening. 

"You still want me, Eris?" Azriel breathes, their lips only parting for a slight second.

"Yes." Eris pushes against him, making him feel exactly how hard he already is, only from a few kisses. "I've never stopped wanting you. No one felt like you. Nothing felt like being with you. It was only ever you. And still is. I've wanted to hate you so much for leaving me alone, but I failed."

"I'm glad you did, because I did too. I failed at trying to forget you, at stopping to love you."

Eris' lips kiss a trail down the side of Azriel's throat, teeth grazing his skin softly and eliciting soft sighs from his former best friend. "You want me now?"

"I always want you, Eris," Azriel pants. "I have always wanted you."

Their bodies move fully on their own accord, guided and driven by sheer desire and need, the longing that has grown so much and so stark over the time they were apart. And after asking for Azriel's consent, there is no more holding back for Eris. For either of them. 

Eris lowers himself to the ground, kneeling, and starts to toy with the button and the zipper on Azriel's jeans. They ignore the fact that they are outside, in the garden where people could see them. Their need for each other right here and now drowns out every little part of rationality. 

After freeing Azriel's already half-hard length, Eris strokes him a few times, loving the soft, breathy gasps that leave Azriel in reaction to his doing. He smooths his hand down the hard length of his shaft, the skin yet soft beneath his palm, and then parts his lips. 

"Ten fucking years," Eris rasps, tongue swirling to collect the bead of liquid already gathered at the tip before fully sucking him into his mouth.

He works him softly at first, and Azriel finds himself moaning at the feeling of his cock engulfed in the wet heat of Eris' mouth, his hand falling into his long red locks, tugging softly at first. Eris begins to suck harder and move his mouth a little faster; his hand grips the back of his mouth, holding on tightly. 

Using his mouth and hand together, Eris hollows his cheeks and holds eye contact with Azriel, which is everything he needs to tip him over the edge. He bucks his hips into Eris' face until he comes with a shout, and Eris greedily swallows around him, drinking him down like he has been a starved male for centuries. 

"Fuck yes!" Eris expresses when he sits back on his heels. He locks his hooded gaze on Azriel, his hand wiping over the drool and Azriel's come running down his cheek. "I've missed this."

"I missed you," Azriel answers and bends down, reaching for Eris to bring him in for a kiss, but cries out when his ankle twitches again. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"You regret what we did?"

"No," Eris answers tightly, carefully tending Azriel's ankle and applying the last bit of cream still on his fingertips. He wipes them clean on a cloth hanging from the table and picks up a bandage. Before he continues, he adjusts Azriel's leg on his lap. "No, I don't."

The moment Azriel cries out in pain, Eris immediately knows he needs to take care of Azriel's leg. He drags him inside the house to examine the injury despite Azriel's protests. Only a minute later, they ended up in the kitchen of Eris' home, now sitting at the dining table that is still familiar to Azriel, with only a small oil lamp lit on the kitchen counter.

"But why are you so calm then?" Azriel asks, hoping to catch his eyes, but Eris keeps looking at his ankle.

"I am just thinking…"

"About?"

"About us."

Us. It still sounds so beautiful, and when Eris says it, it gives Azriel hope.

"What did it feel like…going away, I mean." Eris lifts his eyes for a brief moment, hoping to catch his gaze.

Azriel sighs loudly. "It was awful. The first days, weeks, months. I only cried. I made new friends in New York that helped me out of my misery, but that doesn't mean I didn't miss you daily. I always thought about you and knew you were feeling the same." He wipes a hand over his eyes. "I knew that if I called you, I would only make it worse. For both of us. There was no way we could see each other again any time soon…"

Eris nods slowly. "I gave up at some point. I called a few times, but you never answered. Then, Beron forced me to delete your number and all the pictures I had with you. I could save a few on my computer, but the rest was all gone."

"All of our silly videos and photos?" Azriel asks and places his hand on Eris'. The man nods in answer.

"I'll try to find them on my old phone. I'm sure I still have it somewhere." A small smile appears on his lips and a little light returns to his eyes. "Also, those with your little brother." Azriel chuckles softly. "How is Lucien?"

"A menace," Eris breathes. "He was a sweet boy until puberty hit him with full force. He was all about girls and his appearance, but he still did well in school. He has been dating the same girl for a few years now. They got together when they were fourteen and are still going strong. She might be his soulmate. Elain, she's a sweet girl."

Azriel smiles at that. "I'm glad he's doing well."

"Yeah," Eris sighs. He deserves a good life. "He will be here for the funeral. He said it is a kind of closure."

Azriel nods slowly. "Did he move away?"

"No," Eris answers, "but he spends every other weekend with his biological dad." 

Azriel remembers the little affair, the unspoken story of how Lucien and Eris only share a mother. Eris found out about it very early on and obviously told Azriel. Back then, they shared everything with each other.

"I'm glad to hear he has contact with him now." Azriel inhales deeply. At least someone has luck with their father, he thinks. 

Eris smiles, at least a little, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "I've always hoped you would just show up here again someday. I even thought about going to New York, but I thought I would make a fool out of myself – suddenly showing up in the big city with hopes and dreams for us while it was possible that you were already married or at least had a partner."

A breathy chuckle leaves Azriel. "I was dating a few people in the ten years, but it never felt right. It never felt as right as it did with you."

"I know what you mean, Azriel. I know this feeling." Eris inhales a long, deep breath. "I've always thought it was because you will never forget your first love, and somehow they will always be important to you, but I now know that it is because there is no one in this world like you. I fell in love with you because you are my counterpart and everything I could and would ever hope for in a partner. I fell in love with everything about you, and no one would ever compare to you."

Azriel's fingers curl tighter around Eris, and he leans in, kissing his lips softly. "No one compares to you. I fell in love with your charm and wonderful character and soon realized that no one is like you. You are one in a million, and finding someone like you…I was the luckiest idiot on this planet until I ruined everything."

"Beron ruined it."

"I did, too." Azriel shakes his head. "I shouldn't have given up that easily. I should have fought for us. I should have fought Beron for you. I should have fought for our future."

Eris swallows thickly, a tear rolling down his cheek. "I broke up with you; maybe I shouldn't have given up that easily, either. Let's agree that we both made mistakes and didn't do everything right, but this was in the past. Let it be in the past and focus on the future."

"Can you forgive me so easily?" Azriel asks, his heart heavy, his stomach churning. He bites down on the inside of his cheeks.

Eris' shoulders lift with a deep breath. "I can, if you can forgive me for everything I've said."

"I can." Eris nips at Azriel's lips, then lets his forehead rest against Azriel's. "You will go back to New York tomorrow, right?"

"I'll ask my boss to allow me to stay a little longer," Azriel whispers. "He is one of my closest mates. He won't say no." He kisses the corner of Eris' lips. "But yes, I will have to return in a few days. I have my work there and…I can't give everything up there so easily."

"I know. I wouldn't want you to give up everything there." Eris' eyes close, and his heart sinks into his gut. He wants to leave with Azriel and move to the big city with him, but can he leave everything here behind so easily? 

He has no job at the moment, as he has been taking care of his ill father in the past months and had to take leave and then quit. It wasn't easy, but working as a doctor before earned him a bit of money that he had on the side, which tided him over the months. So technically, he could start anew in the big city. But that would mean leaving everything here behind: his mother, his brothers.

"My apartment in New York is definitely made for two people, so…" A hopeful smile appears on Azriel's lips. 

Eris smiles in return; this time, it reaches his eyes, where hope and anticipation spark to life. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"Are you ready?" Azriel looks at him, holding eye contact, although Eris seems to find reciprocating difficult. 

Beron has never been a good father, but the funeral day isn't easy. Beron was still his father, and from time to time, they had good moments, moments where they could laugh and smile together. But those days were sparse. 

He inhales a deep breath and exhales loudly. "I am."

Everyone is already inside; he and Azriel are the only people still left outside. The funeral will only begin when he enters, so he allows himself this time to breathe and collect himself, knowing he is not missing anything inside. 

"I really am." He nods slowly. "You will sit with me?" Eris swallows thickly. "Stay with me?"

"Always," Azriel answers. I will never, ever leave you again." He pulls down the door handle, and they enter together. They stroll down the aisle leading to the altar together, their steps synchronised until they reach their bench, where Eris' mother and two of his brothers are already sitting. 

Azriel's hand naturally slides into Eris when he sits down beside him. The pastor steps onto the dais, and piano music starts to sound from the back of the chapel. 

"I'm here for you, Eris," Azriel whispers, not turning to look at Eris but staring straight ahead at the coffin. "Forever."

"Forever?"

"Forever. Move to New York with me." 

Eris doesn't give him a verbal answer, only squeezes his hand in response, yet a slight smile that feels so out of place for a funeral appears on his lips. Always sounds just too good. Especially when it means forever with Azriel.

general Azris tag list (please let me know if you want to be added/removed): @azrielsbabyg @lady-riel @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ofduskanddreams @acourtofladydeath @secret-third-thing @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @talibunny30 @berryzxx

thank you so much for beta reading @pippsmcgee and @moonlightazriel 💛

[isa-ghost]

(BTW I'm very down with wanting sapnap being dead for being sapnap I just wanted to be sure I was hip qirh the kids and pissed for the Correct reason)

DLSKFLSJFSKF SORRY I WAS OUT TOUCHING GRASS WHEN YOU SENT ME YOUR FIRST ANON.

Also in hindsight I worded this answer like you have 0 clue who Shartnap is but I'm gonna keep it that way for anyone who sees this and Doesn't Go Here At All.

Here's a good overview post abt Crapnap from my friend.

This Specific Instance we're wishing death upon him more than the default amount because he's participating in Squidcraft, a Latino-made/hosted and primarily Latino-played Minecraft competition with a big cash prize. (Aka that irrelevant ass sweaty ass racist Texan is literally only playing to win more money he doesn't need. He also won last year's SC 🙄). Last year there were a few non-Latino players (like him), but this year there were a BUNCH, most likely thanks to the existence of QSMP. There were Americans, Brits, and French just to name a few!

My mutual @pixiecaps has been the most outspoken on my dash about the dumbshit being in Squidcraft, so I'll tag them here and they can add any additional context they see fit in the reblogs or replies. They might have insight or perspective that I don't bc they're Latino and I'm not. 👍🏻 And this was baby's first Squidcraft for me purely bc QSMP members were in it, so idk much abt previous ones whereas Pix might.

It's annoying enough that Crapnap is in the competition at all, but yesterday a bunch of other previous DSMP members (Philza, Tubbo, Foolish, to name a few) all died in one of the games together and were thus eliminated. Shatnap's petty nobody poopy ass was literally CHEERING when they all died, which is poor sportsmanship for one (he has none tho let's be real here), and two: No Toxicity is one of the competition rules. So by all means, he should be investigated by the Squidcraft mods and (hopefully) disqualified for his bullshit.

And some additional context bc my guess is this all plays into why he was so outwardly toxic like that: Tubbo has outspokenly hated the Dr*m Team for a while now. He also had direct beef with Shatnap bc the dumbfuck tried migrating to Kick (basically Twitch for bigots & predators, to say the least).

AND, most relevant and recent: Philza was just on Tommy and Jack Manifold's podcast Shut Up I'm Talking about a week ago, and on the Patreon version of the episode the three of them talked about how Dr*m is a piece of shit, they all hate him, and how nasty and weird he was behind the scenes during DSMP, especially to Tommy.

Dr*m Team 100% knows this was all said, bc a) some of it was clipped ofc and b) Dr*m fucking posted the DSMP world download as damage control after people started talking abt what was said on the episode bc god forbid he look bad and get negative attention for 2 seconds. He's been begged by numerous people for LITERALLY LIKE 3 YEARS to drop the world download and only JUST did it to do damage control and make himself look all good and innocent or At Least distract people (spoiler alert: didn't work, he just made himself look even more pathetic. He basically gave the people who correctly hate him a gift in addition to clowning on him).

Shartnap literally lives with Dr*m, so there's no way he doesn't know Tommy, Jack & Phil have spoken some of the truth TECHNICALLY PRIVATELY. IT WAS ON PATREON BEHIND A PAYWALL.

Soooo yeah. As usual, Dr*m Team fucking sucks ass (many such cases, no one is surprised). Crapnap is the ""last remaining"" of the Dr*m Team to not have some Extreme horrific controversy and that's what keeping him able to be in competitions like this, rather than isolated to a shitty corner with the other two dumbfucks. (CLARIFICATION: He DOES have controversies. You can assume what some of them are based off of things said in that post I linked. Plus the Kick thing. But in comparison to Dr*m [a groomer, among other things], and George [sexual predator, among other things], Shatnap is ""the least awful"" of them, which is almost definitely why he's still ""welcome"" in competitions like this one).

Additional silly context: I'm calling him variations of shit because he openly admitted sometime earlier this year that he shit himself (or at least sharted) on stream.

[sgiandubh]

Hello how are you? I follow several shippers' blogs and I noticed that every now and then some bloggers publish hateful messages they received. My question is about mental health: how do you deal with it? I understand that your presence here is relatively recent, but have you ever regretted something?

Dear Mental Health Anon,

This is the kind of submissions I welcome with all my heart, because they are benevolent and witty. Forgive me already for what I suspect will be a long answer. It is not the pleasure of hearing me talk that prompts them, but the sincere intention to answer deserving asks as clearly, fully and honestly as I can.

The short answer is : I am fine, Fall is slowly coming and nights are starting to be really chilly. There's some light rain tapping on the roof of my flat and I will spend my week-end wandering around some of my favorite places on Earth. And now, onwards to the consistent and interesting ask of yours...

The worst trolling message I have ever seen in this fandom is the one I am immediately going to post below, because I think it should serve us all as warning and reminder. It was posted on a blog I have been reading from the beginning of my long lurking days on Tumblr: @cb4tb is one of the most balanced and articulate people in this corner of the Internet. I remember being shocked by its cold and very coherent violence. The feat of a casebook sociopath, who thinks her asks in Spanish (I am 200% certain about it) and who has an appalling command of English grammar. Written on Christmas' Eve and on purpose:

Compared to the alarming slander @cb4tb got (whatever for is a mystery, she is non conflictual and posts very witty business insights) on a day that should be completely taboo for every civilized human being (you don't need to believe in God to respect one of Christianity's most important celebrations), whatever hate I could get in here is definitely subpar. Most of it did not make it on my page and went straight to the bin. But it's not always easy: I am as human as you, Anon, and sometimes I feel personally insulted and revolted by the smugness and pettiness of it all. However, I must immediately add their hate never made me give up an inch of my convictions. They are the result of a long interval of watching and pondering, coupled with my own observations I gladly share with like-minded women all around the world. That often hits a nerve or bruises overinflated egos on the Other Side. So be it: I am not here to be meek and obedient, if I never was meek and obedient in real life. I am here to bring clarity and build trust, which incidentally resonates very closely to what I do for a living. That probably rates me as a moderate on the shipper spectrum, in the sense that by complete design I put aside some divisive topics I firmly chose not to discuss. I am not interested to bring attention on me, in here, and the least thing I'd like is to be a vector of discord. So that would also rate me as a peacemaker of sorts - and yes, that sounds perhaps pretentious, but I believe it is needed, especially now.

I only felt a clear intention to threaten me twice, both in DM. The first time it curiously came from one extreme fringe of the shipper community and I brushed it off, because it was an empty, almost ridiculous threat. I politely denied and that was it - two persons blocked me and there were no other consequences to it. The second time, an anti came to confront me on an irrelevant point, with a very aggressive undertone. I blocked and almost forgot about it. If you have it clear enough in your mind that such things cannot be avoided and, at the same time, you know that your own moral compass is not compromised, these details will not affect you. At all. I confidently promise you that. Last but not least: if you are not great with compartmentalizing, don't step in the arena. It can seriously ruffle your self-esteem and it's not worth it.

So this is how I deal with it: I focus on what I have to say (does it bring something new? interesting? positive? thought-provoking?), on the way of saying it (above all, be kind and gracious to every other shipper) and on the right moment to say it (only when I am honestly sure I can do it with no unwanted consequences). But I will stand in solidarity with any shipper (any single one of them) who is humiliated, belittled or disparaged, with not a single shred of fear in the world. And I would also fend for myself if necessary, if I am getting over-the-top slander: all the other yapping, I ignore. Sometimes (often, even) it's more interesting to watch.

And if anything else fails, I go for a long drive and have a coffee at the seaside or simply open a book or listen to some Bach or call Someone. Or take this little big guy out for a lazy walk in the park:

You ask me if I regret anything. Absolutely not. I have received more than I could ever give, in here. I have met spectacular women and men, I have grown very fond of and feel very close to. I have had the immense satisfaction of sharing their secrets, their worries, their plans and this means trust, in my book, for which I will never tire saying how grateful I am. I also strived to respond in kind and I mean to honor this unwritten contract. Last but not least, I have watched this community slowly dusting off months of sadness and perhaps starting to open up again.

And all of this makes me damn proud of who we are, Anon. Thank you for dropping by! You are always welcome on my page.

[that-ari-blogger]

A Discussion Of LavenderTowne and Hazbin Hotel

So, a little while ago, a YouTube channel called LavenderTowne ventured into the Hazbin Hotel fan space to propose some criticisms and fan redesigns of the characters.

I had thoughts on the original video, but those are irrelevant because its reception was… tumultuous, and in my opinion disproportionate. The video has since been taken down, and LavenderTowne uploaded a follow up to it (link). In which she stated that her experience with the Hazbin Hotel fandom wasn’t the most pleasant, something I would like to address.

So, this post will be an academic discussion of the designs from the second video. Because I think her criticisms were interesting and because I want to show that it is possible to disagree with someone without being unpleasent.

Also, I want to give LavenderTowne a more welcoming experience with the fandom, and try to make up for some other members of the community.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD (Hazbin Hotel)

I'm going to start with something that needs to be said. You can disagree with the rest of my post, but this is non negotiable:

It is never, under any circumstances, acceptable to harass someone for their opinions, especially about art. I don't care if you take issue with conclusions or perceived motivations, actions like I observed are not ok, and are not welcome in this fandom.

I hope I made that clear.

Anyway, I am going to be addressing the second video, because LavenderTowne took the first down, and I'm not about to intrude where I'm not wanted.

LavenderTowne mentioned the overarching stylistic choices, and I think that is a good place to start with this post, because they are good source of difference. Several of LavenderTowne’s criticisms are leveled at the Hazbin Hotel visual style itself, discussing what specific elements didn’t work for her and how she would personally draw things differently.

That is what I want to discuss here. Rather than the specifics of artistic technique, I am going to talk about the character design decisions brought about by the difference in style. This isn’t a question of skill, but an examination of the ideas presented.

Both LavenderTowne’s style and that of the Hazbin Hotel team range on the scale of realism, as is the nature of art, and that has caused a few of the design decisions that they have made. But it has also had a weird effect on the implied plot that is worth discussing.

Hazbin Hotel is more cartoony, for example, which means its logic is a bit more fluid. Vaggie's eye scar, for example, is shown over her hair, which isn’t how scars work in the real world.

This is a way of getting the tone across. Sir Pentious, at one point in the series, gets caught in the blast of an explosion and sent flying across the city. The design style lets you know that this is being played for a laugh and that he will probably be fine. If LavenderTowne had drawn Sir Pentious in her style, I guarantee that version of him would not survive the event, because hers is grittier (that’s the wrong word, but you get the point).

I do, however, really like the colour palette shift in LavenderTowne’s designs. Don’t get me wrong, I like the limited palette of the actual show, and I think it suits the setting more than the pastel aesthetic of LavenderTowne’s style.

But, those pastel colours are gorgeous and they are a really neat way of solving one of the problems that LavenderTowne identified and I agree with, that being how difficult character differentiation is when everyone has the same colouration as each other and their background.

Now, neither of the two options are implicitly better, there is just a different design sensibility going on.

As for the designs themselves, I actually prefer LavenderTowne’s Alastor over the original. I would like to see how it interacts with Alastor animation and transformation, but I think the design overall works better for the character. I like the horns being more pronounced, and I like that neat hairstyle. I think it's much more suited to an overly refined character who revolves around appearances.

“Just because you see a smile, don’t think you know what’s going on underneath. A smile is a valuable tool, my dear! It inspires your friends, keeps your enemies guessing, and ensures that no matter what comes your way, you’re the one in control.”

I think that Alastors original hair style is more about looking cool than looking refined. The shorter style, combined with the more prominent antlers, gives that air of someone actively concealing their more wild undercurrents.

That being said, I'm not as sold on Alastor's expression in LavenderTowne's design. This is a stylistic choice, but I don't think that the Cheshire Cat smile translates over to the alternate design as smoothly as his concept. In the original, that smile was the thing that denoted him as malicious, but LavenderTowne's design seems more huggable, at least to me.

LavenderTowne did raise an interesting point about the voodoo symbolism, a point that others have raised, and I think is worth noting. Incorporating that aesthetic as synonymous with dark magic in a setting based heavily off Christianity is funky, thematically. It's a use of stereotypes as shorthand, which carries the baggage of those stereotypes, intentionally or not. However, I am about as far from qualified to talk about this in detail as possible. I recommend that you listen to the opinions of people who know more about this than me, and who's case this is to make.

Husk’s design is another that I like, but this one I have slightly mixed feelings about. The body type change addresses another of LavenderTowne's criticisms of the series, again in relation to character differentiation. That is a strength of the video, LavenderTowne gives criticisms, and explains what she means and how she would go about doing it.

Interestingly, that body type issue is something I disagree with. I think the way that LavenderTowne has handled the issue she identified is fascinating, and one of the best parts of her process. But this is simply an issue I don’t see as a problem.

The criticism is that the silhouettes of the characters are exceedingly similar, meaning that identifying them is difficult, as well as limiting in terms of variety of proportions. I could point out Sir Pentious or Husk here, but that is arguing in bad faith because Husk is very clearly the exception to the rule, and Pentious actually conforms to her observation. Without his hood out, Pentious’ silhouette difference is in his tail, which is rarely onscreen.

The reason I am ok with this, is that Hazbin Hotel has a thing for transforming character designs. Charlie, Valentino, Emily and Serah, Lucifer, even Adam, Vaggie, and Lute, as well as a ton of others. All of these character designs shift as the story progresses, revealing aspects of them that they have kept secret. I like having the baseline similarities if everyone gets a moment where they show off how different they are from that baseline. I think that is a cool story beat that, for me at least, outweighs the problem of similarity. I’m sure LavenderTowne would disagree with me here, and that is more than fine.

Back to the point, Husk is a character who is surprisingly acrobatic and martially competent, and the slight shift in the alternative design switches him into more of a bar brawl type character. This feels like the guy who would just deck you and tell you to cool off, rather than throw something at you. He looks like the type of bartender he is, cool and calm, and ready to offer advice when needed.

The removal of the wings is an interesting choice. On the one hand, it clears up his design and makes him look more down to earth. On the other hand, it leads into my main bugbear with this design. I don't think this version of Husk looks like an overlord.

This is subjective, and I am struggling to quite explain it. But the wings, as well as his voice, give a sense of gravitas to Husk. Without that, Husk looks relatively unremarkable.

The outfit plays into this. While I prefer it and its subtlety, there is little that marks this version of Husk out as higher ranking.

Again, this isn't a case of the original designs being objectively better. This is a different design that communicates different things. LavenderTowne’s Husk is a humble bartender rather than an overlord playing pretend. I simply like the story that the original offers more.

Vaggie’s new design is both my favourite design of the four, and the one that is the furthest from the story of the show.

I love the quieter eye scar, I love the silhouette, and I think moving the ribbons to her back is a genius bit of visual storytelling.

The outfit is cool (I especially like those boots), but there's an asterisk to that, because I don't think it entirely suits Vaggie as she is presented in the show.

At the risk of oversimplifying, Vaggie is a fairly uncomplicated character. Not because she's written to be shallow, but because the show doesn't have time to explore her personality.

So, you get her past, which is fascinating, and it leaves some interesting things on the table.

For example, Vaggie has zero self preservation instinct and will burn herself to the ground for Charlie. This isn't complex, but it's remarkable how much the writers (and animators if you’re looking for that kind of thing) get out of this one detail.

Most notably, her character grows into realising that love means living for someone rather than dying to keep them safe. This culminates in the defeat of Lute, the embodiment of her past, who doesn't think to move out of the way of a collapsing building.

Similarly, Vaggie was an angel and wants to hide that aspect of herself. This makes her multifaceted in backstory, but the reveal doesn't have time to dwell on her characterisation, so it just feeds into what I said before.

I think that with another season of time to develop, Vaggie’s characterisation will become as complex as her backstory. But that doesn’t come quickly.

The point I am making is that I don't think this version of Vaggie would wear armour until the end. She doesn't think she can get killed, so why would she need to protect herself?

Which means that LavenderTowne's design would work for the last episode of the show, if it had wings, which is sacrificing the single best piece of foreshadowing I have seen in a long time. Seriously, I cannot stop gushing about those ribbons.

What we have, then, is a version of Vaggie with a slightly different story and personality. To me, LavenderTowne's Vaggie looks like a character who craves safety. She seeks Charlie because she offers emotional stability and kindness, the one person in hell who Vaggie doesn't think is against her. But she would wear the armour and outfit because of the injury. She realises she can be wounded and grabs the heaviest set she can find, the twin coloured trousers come from that desperation, and add to the imbalanced aspect of her design.

This version of Vaggie is defensive rather than offensive, and though it renders Out For Love obsolete, I find it more interesting than the original.

Charlie's design, however, I'm not such a big fan of. I'm sorry LavenderTowne, I really am. But this design really doesn't sit right with me.

Hazbin Hotel has a circus theme going on. The main foyer has a circus tent affectation, for example, and Charlie gives off the aesthetic of the ringmaster.

Charlie is very overtly the antithesis of a Disney princess, and that comes across in her design. Instead of wearing a floaty dress, she wears a suit and suspenders.

Yes, the hooves and horns being more prominent is a cool alteration that I appreciate, but the alternate outfit really doesn't feel like Charlie.

I think the difference is in the framing. To me, LavenderTowne's Charlie comes across as naive and optimistic, where the original design is more relentlessly hopeful, and that second one matches how she is in the series.

Charlie in Hazbin Hotel showcases true hope. Not optimism, hope. The type of emotion that keeps getting knocked down, but picks itself off the floor ever single time, and gets ready to try again. Charlie has no proof of her philosophy, no basis. She's not trying to recreate phenomena, she doesn't even know she can succeed. That's why she needs the hope.

I don't think that LavenderTowne's design has that vibe. Instead, this Charlie seems younger, which contributes to the naivety. It feels like it leans into her regular design, so the more fearsome transformation comes as a shock, mostly.

On the other hand, the three horn tiara element is genuinely really cool. It gives that air of reality, and hints at the transformation without giving it away. They round out the design and make the “this is a demon princess” clear.

Interactions between this Charlie and Adam, Lute, or Sarah would be interesting, as this version seems designed to foil off them, rather than the other way around. Especially Emily, this design seems genetically engineered to mirror her and make her question her ideals just through existing in the same place.

In short, this Charlie seems more gentle than the original, which might help in some aspects, but I prefer the original.

One again, this is my opinion, and not objective by any stretch of the imagination. If you disagree with me, good, that's the bread and butter of how analysis and discussion exists. But I hope I have shown that disagreement is possible without aggression.

Which brings me to my conclusion, and I have something here that I hope you will like.

LavenderTowne's designs feel like they are made for the same story, but paced differently. They feel like a different style of musical. They feel like they were made for a version of Hazbin Hotel that had more episodes and has time for subtlety, something that the original show unfortunately didn't have.

The story feels the same, but the minour changes make it seem more drawn out. The tone is different, and that effects the entirety of the rest of the story.

In other words, she is designing an AU, something she makes explicitly clear at least five times in her video.

LavenderTowne mentioned in her video that she might do a follow up with a few more characters. I would be intrigued to see this, because I want to know what Angel Dust would look like in this version of the story, as well as the actual angels and even the Vees.

I also am fascinated by how the art style affects the tone of the story. And with LavenderTowne's permission, I might have a crack at writing some of the key scenes from the show to fit this aesthetic and tone. I think that would be an interesting thought experiment.

Final Thoughts

LavenderTowne’s designs were dope as all hell, and the points she raised were worth discussing.

I love the series, but I understand that it's not everyone’s cup of tea. Content warnings should get that across, but also some people just won't like elements of it for any number of reasons, and that is ok.

I think @ohnoitstbskyen put it best in his discussion of the finale of the series. (Link). In his closing remarks, he spoke at length about people who will discover the show and the effect that it will have on them. That sentiment, boiled down, became the title of that video, and concisely says what I have taken just under 3000 words to talk around.

“This show will save someone’s life, but it isn’t for everyone.”

But let me be clear about why I wrote this.

I saw some of the shit that people wrote about LavenderTowne's original video, and though a lot of it was positive, a fair chunk was not, and I want to put my foot down. Disagreement about art is healthy, but if you think that involves harassment at all, then tell Husk he still owes me a drink.

On a lighter note, this is my first post about Hazbin Hotel, so for those who are reading my stuff for the first time, hello. I am Ari, I do media analysis, and I plan on doing a series on Hazbin Hotel, going through each song with lyrical and musical analysis once I finish my current one on Wicked. So, if that interests you, maybe stick around.

Next

[absurdthirst]

Simple As That {Marcus Pike x F!Reader}

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Internalized homophobia/bi-erasure, actually homophobia, mentions of cheating, divorce, anxiety, panic, self doubt, Marcus being the best

Comments: Telling your boyfriend that you're bisexual when Pride month comes around isn't easy, especially when a friend is going through a horrible time because of their own sexual identity.

A/N: Happy Pride Month! 🌈 I know that I've had my own moments of panic and self-erasure and I'm sure a lot of you have as well. Be authentic to yourself. Live, laugh, love whoever you wish. Just know that I love you for who you are.

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Marcus Pike MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You’ve talked yourself out of this conversation for so long, you wonder if it’s even necessary. After all, what does it matter? You are with a man who is bright, funny, thoughtful and caring. One who is empathetic to your hectic life, because he has his own full plate, and never seems to mind when you just don’t have the social battery to go out. He even asks if you have the energy to let him take care of you, or if he should spend the night at his own apartment. In short, Marcus Pike is perfect. 

Still, guilt hangs over you like a shroud, weighing you down and making you bite your lip when the topic is brought up or even represented on tv. Like there is a big neon sign flashing over your head that screams ‘LIAR!!’ in a pink, blue and purple hues. 

You tell yourself that it doesn’t matter if you're bisexual. You are in a relationship with a man. Even though younger you would be completely pissed off by the fact that you are self-erasing a part of yourself that seemed so central to who you are. 

You’re scared. You can admit that. You’ve seen how some of your friends' relationships have imploded when their sexuality was used against them. Hell, even now, Anthony’s marriage is dead, going through the nastiest divorce that you’ve ever seen with Charlotte accusing him of sleeping with every single one of his friends. Apparently the gym was code for a gang bang in the locker room, and he called her ‘Charlie’ because he wanted to pretend his wife was a man. It didn’t matter that she was the one who offered that nickname when they met three years ago, it was being used against him now as some sort of weird, homophobic proof of his infidelity. 

Personally, you think she’s crazy and it was unlikely that the marriage would have lasted even five more years, but  the viciousness of her accusations managed to dig into you. Permeate under your skin when you had heard what she had accused him of, how immediately Anthony was untrustworthy around anyone and everyone, all because he was bisexual. The fact that she had known this before they got married was irrelevant. It mattered now and it was crushing your friend. 

Tapping your nail on the desktop calendar, you try to ignore the date. June first. The beginning of Pride Month. A month to celebrate who you are authentically. This month is different from the rest since you have gotten serious with a gorgeous FBI agent with a boyish smile. 

Instead of some kind of Pride event, you’ve penciled in a date with him. Knowing that he will be eager to see you since the latest case had taken him out of town for nearly two weeks. Two weeks of self doubt and second guessing. Two weeks of dealing with the fallout of Anthony’s marriage crumbling, since he is sleeping on your couch - even though it’s ironic she’s not accusing him of sleeping with you. Two weeks of deciding that you should never tell Marcus about that side of yourself and then chastising yourself in the same single breath. 

It doesn’t matter if you never kiss another girl again. Never sleep with one. That Marcus is the only person that you are intimate with for the rest of your life. You are bisexual. You are sexually and romantically attracted to both men and women. It doesn’t matter that on the outside you appear as a heteronormative couple, you’re not. Because you’re not. To deny that would be to deny a huge part of yourself. 

You sigh softly and consider canceling. Hiding away for the next few days, hell, maybe even the entire month. Just so you don’t have to be out with Marcus around the flags or the events that were planned throughout the city for the entire month. Pretending it doesn’t exist. 

Your phone lights up, buzzing as a picture of Marcus pops up. It was one that you had snapped while he was trying, and failing to cook dinner about a month ago. Looking adorably flustered, it had become his contact picture and it makes you smile every time you see it. 

You smile this time too, but it’s a nervous smile. Picking up the phone and trying to ignore the way that your stomach rocks and rolls like the waves of a turbulent sea, you answer. “Hey, babe.” You hum, hoping you sound completely normal to your boyfriend.

“Hey.” Marcus always sounds like he’s excited to hear your voice, the warm, buttery sound of his greeting relaxing you a bit and making the smile turn a bit brighter. “I just landed and wondered if I could come over.” 

It’s completely Marcus to want to drop everything and rush over to see you. Despite the fact that he might be exhausted from traveling, or working nonstop over the two weeks. Only one of the reasons that he didn’t know about your houseguest. You hadn’t wanted to talk to him about it over the phone since you couldn’t see his face. Watch his eyes as you explain. 

“How about I come to your place?” You ask, glancing back at the little flag that Anthony had stuck in your pen organizer. The lines of the damn thing mocking you, although you know why he is stubbornly being prideful about Pride month this year. “We can relax, and you can sleep in your own bed for the first time in two weeks.” Although you might not be sleeping beside him.

Marcus groans, and you can tell that he likes that idea. “I’ll pick up some take out on the way home.” He agrees quickly, so you know that he was offering to come over simply because he felt like it was the right thing to do. “See you in half an hour?” 

“Half an hour.” You agree, ending the call and trying not to feel sick about something that should be so easy. It’s not, but you need to tell him. 

****

“I’ve really missed you.” Marcus leans in to kiss you softly. Food consumed and he looks infinitely more relaxed after a quick shower and tossing on some of his oldest, comfiest sweats. Leaning into you on the couch and you can see that spark of desire in his eyes. It’s easy to see and you bite your lip, determined to tell him before anything else happens tonight. 

“Anthony’s getting divorced.” You blurt out, making him pause as he leans in. “He’s been staying on my couch for the past two weeks.” 

“Shit.” Marcus frowns and leans back, his brows pulled in slightly and he sighs. “Is he okay? What happened?” 

You don’t want to tell him the details, knowing that it’s not your place to say anything to him about Anthony’s sexuality since you don’t know if it’s ever been brought up before with Marcus around. He knows your friends and likes them, but it’s not like everyone is talking about who they are attracted to. Everyone is in committed relationships except for a few who are serial daters. “They- Charlie thinks Anthony is cheating.” 

Marcus’ eyes widen and he shakes his head. “Damn.” He huffs. “I hope that’s not true, I doubt it is, from what I gathered, he seemed pretty damn committed to Charlie.” 

“He is- was.” You correct. “But there’s no going back now. Not with what’s been said.” It was sad, the things that were hurled at him in anger or spite and you know it hurt him a lot. “He’s staying on my couch.” 

“Okay.” Marcus nods quickly, reaching out and rubbing your arm. “Let me know if I can help in any way. Or…” He shrugs slightly. “I do have another bedroom. He can crash here instead of your couch.” He offers. “No offense to the sofa, it’s comfortable, but a bed is more comfy.” 

You smile, shrugging slightly and nod. “I’ll tell him about your offer. It’s sweet, but he might say no.” You hum and Marcus tilts his head curiously but doesn’t ask why. He’s good about not prying. Especially for an FBI agent.

“It’s available.” Is all he offers before he scoots closer to you. “So I want to take you out.” He starts. “But I wanted to make sure that it was okay before I surprise you with it.” 

That’s unusual for Marcus. He tends to like grand gestures and this makes you look at him curiously. “Oh?” 

“There’s an event this weekend. And I always go to it every year and I was wondering if you would come with me.” He tells you, keeping his dark eyes on yours and you feel the dread that has been in your stomach all afternoon start to slowly ebb under the weight of his soft expression. 

“What’s that?” You wonder if it’s some kind of work event. Or even a marathon. Marcus has been groaning about needing to start running again. Apparently he has been running marathons every year, at least one, since he was in college. The beer runs had turned into more respectable 5 and 10ks. 

“Pride.” Marcus ventures, his brows raising up and he looks a little nervous. “There’s a pub crawl this weekend and I just always go to something, and I thought that it might not be as….large as the parade and I thought you might like to go…and if you don’t, that’s okay, but-” Marcus is rambling, something that you notice that he does when he is worried about what you might say so he feels the need to provide more details or arguments that back up his ‘case’ so to speak. 

Your own sense of having water poured over your head washes over you and you reach out. “Marc.” Touching his hand makes him freeze mid rambling sentence and you let the silence hange between you for a moment. You don’t ask a question, but you’re sure that your eyes are begging him to explain. 

“I just- I thought you might like to go since, well, yeah.” He blows out a breath and shakes his head. “I thought that since you are bisexual, you might like to go? Unless you don’t celebrate pride and your boyfriend is being incredibly insensitive? If that’s the case, I’m so sorry.” 

“You know?” Your eyes widen and abject horror is probably spreading across your features even though you can’t even feel anything other than your thundering heart. “H-how do you know?” Who told him, how did he find out? Did he go through your phone one night to find the small stash of porn you had saved for those nights when you wanted to think about a woman. Fantasy isn’t cheating, you’ve always believed that, and you know that Marcus has his own porn habit, but how does he know?

Marcus frowns, confusion clouding his face and he shakes his head. “I- was I not supposed to know?” He asks quietly, his hand sliding back to rest on the back of the sofa to give you space if you needed it. 

“I just don’t- who told you?” You don’t feel like any of your friends have said anything, but who knows? Your stomach feels like every bite of your dinner is going to come up. 

His look of confusion deepens and he shakes his head. “Babe…..you told me.” He tells you, completely confused as to why you seem so upset. 

“I told you?” You demand, voice creeping up. “When did I tell you?” 

“Our first date.” He shakes his head and holds up his hands. “Babe, what’s wrong?” He asks, obviously confused over your reaction to this conversation.

“I didn’t tell you on our first date.” You argue. “I would never just come out and say ‘oh by the way, I’m bisexual’.” You know that you’re getting emotional, but you can’t help yourself. You’ve been torturing yourself for a long time about this. 

“Woah, babe.” Marcus raises his hands and speaks soothingly. “I’m not understanding. On our first date, you told me about breaking up with ‘Sam’.”

“Sam is a boy’s name.” 

“You called her Samantha at one point during the story.” He tells you.

Your mouth drops open because Sam was Samatha and you hadn’t even noticed the little slip of the tongue. But he apparently had. “Oh.”

He doesn’t try to make you feel dumb, instead he just waits for you to speak again. 

“Why do you go to pride?” You ask quietly, unable to meet his eyes. 

Marcus gently cups your chin, tilting your head so you are looking at him again. Smiling softly at you, no judgment in his eyes. “Because I’ve had a lot of friends who are in the community and it’s important for me to support them.” He explains. “Just like it’s important for me to support my girlfriend.”

“Simple as that?” You ask, surprised that he doesn’t have questions, hasn’t questioned you about this before now or voiced doubts about your sexuality or faithfulness. Although maybe you shouldn’t be surprised. Marcus is a very thoughtful, rational man. Suddenly you don’t feel anxious at all, a little sheepish for your internal crisis, but the anxiety has melted away into utter affection for the man in front of you. 

“Simple as that.” Marcus promises, leaning in to kiss you softly. 

[invisiblerambler]

In a twist no one asked for, I want to talk about Sydney and Carm and the star.

The fundamental problem with the star is that Sydney has put the idea in Carm's mind (based on his own shit) that a star is basically the only way he can prove himself to her, prove this was worth her time whatever.

Duh he thinks they're bullshit she doesn't ergo they are suddenly not bullshit, this is not news to anyone just a recap.

But it's about what the star represents. The star is the ultimate thing he can win, achieve whatever for her.

Carm has lived in a world his entire life where nothing he could do was ever enough, for Donna to love him, for Mikey to let him work at the restaurant and not push him away, for him to stay alive etc. Now, with the star and getting that star, this has for Carm set out a very specific and well trod path for him to be enough for Sydney. Never mind that he doesn't have to do any of it she just wants to cook good food with him, but let's be real Carm needs a lot more therapy before he'll accept that and frankly so does Syd.

MOVING ON

Before Carm was in his full trauma relapse phase in the fridge, because lets be real that started the second Sugar called him in New York, he was open to the idea that there was another path to getting a star, one set out by people like Chef Terry.

But then he dared to allow himself to have amusement and enjoyment, going so horrifically far as to remember why he loved cooking in the first place, and all of his worst fears were proven correct.

For two seasons, he tried to fight Chef's worst comments about him and in the course of one night they were all (to him proven correct). It feels important to note here too, and I've never seen anyone talk about this, Syd is the only one who doesn't talk to him through the freezer, other than Nat but she's not in a mood to talk him down that night so it's irrelevant.

Carmy is left alone with his own worst enemy for hours and the only person who knows how to counter-program that doesn't talk to him at all while he's in the worst of that.

Yes she stays and talks to him after, but she needed to hear him say the stuff about amusement and enjoyment.

Because she has a hunch about where all this is coming from, but his explicit refusal to talk about anything directly means she has to guess. He's hard to keep up with.

Their shorthand has become their downfall. The other hoping that their connection can mean that they don't have to communicate directly. There's no can I ask you this you can tell me to fuck off this season, they're not even stating the question.

He thinks she wants the star at all costs because that is his only value to her, she can't see that he is killing himself because SHE wants the star. The telepathy is deeply broken right now.