#about someone wanting to trap everyone in a false world

[inkstaindusk]

Had a dream that was basically just p5r Maruki's world but twst characters, which I'm pretty sure is also just the plot of twst book 7 except if Malleus was also trapped

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ʀᴏᴍᴇs ʀᴜʟᴇ

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Marcus Acacius x Wife!reader | WC : 10k | Proof read : NO | Navigation | Notifications | asks : OPEN | Under a False Alter

Summary: The deeper levels of both you and Marcus are revealed to one another

Warnings: DUB-CON (Forced/Arranged marriage), ANGSTY, gladiator battles, gore, blood, PTSD, scars, injury, corrupt people, exploitation

A/n: Hey everyone, the new part is finally posted! I've been really busy lately. For those who don't know, I'm a teaching assistant and I also coach cheer and dance at our school. I've been busy getting stuff done for that, so sorry for the wait. Please enjoy! P.S. Sorry, I didn't have time to proofread. (i combined your asks in my own way but sadly there no smut @theamunsonsworld?)

The last day of your honeymoon dawned with a soft, golden light that bathed the villa in gentle warmth. As you and Marcus made your way back to your father's villa in a horse-drawn carriage, the rhythmic clatter of the wheels on the cobblestones filled the silence. Marcus watched the passing scenery, his eyes distant and thoughtful.

Breaking the silence, Marcus turned to you, his brow furrowed. "You know," he began, his tone serious, "when your father brought up that ridiculous expectation over dinner, I had to stop myself from laughing."

You looked at him, surprised. "Laughing? Why?"

"Because," Marcus said, leaning back against the cushioned seat, "the idea that we could just decide to have a child on a whim as if it were that simple, is absurd. Your father lives in a world of his own making sometimes."

You let out a bitter laugh, the weight of the conversation settling in. "He’s always been like that—demanding, controlling. It’s as if he forgets I’m a person, not just a means to an end."

Marcus nodded, a sympathetic look in his eyes. "The expectations of Rome can be suffocating. But we can try to live differently, take our time, even find ways to see your mother."

A spark of hope flickered within you. "It sounds wonderful, but it feels like a distant dream."

Marcus shifted closer, his voice firm yet gentle. "It doesn’t have to be. We can make it a reality, bit by bit."

Your gaze fell, the words heavy on your tongue. "I’ve been rebellious my whole life, Marcus. But the truth is, as a woman, I have no choice. I’m trapped in these roles."

His hand found yours again, squeezing gently. "You’ve always had a fire in you. That spirit is what drew me to you."

A wave of emotions crashed over you, frustration mingling with gratitude. "Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it. Fighting, resisting, when it feels like nothing ever changes."

"You’ve already changed so much," Marcus reassured you. "And together, we can push further. We can find ways to see your mother. She deserves to know you’re thinking of her."

Your heart ached with longing, the image of your mother vivid in your mind. "I want that more than anything. To have her back in my life, even if only for a while."

Marcus smiled, his expression softening. "We’ll figure it out. Maybe we can travel under the guise of visiting trade routes or exploring new markets. There’s always a way."

You looked at him, a smile breaking through despite everything. "You always find the silver lining, don’t you?"

He chuckled, his eyes bright. "Someone has to. Besides, it’s easier with you by my side."

You felt a surge of gratitude for Marcus, for his understanding and support. "Thank you, Marcus. For everything."

He smiled softly, his eyes filled with warmth. "We're in this together. No matter what happens, we'll face it together."

As the silence settled between you, Marcus’s gaze turned contemplative. "Have you ever thought about having kids? I mean, not now, but in the future."

You blinked, slightly taken aback by the question. "Kids? I suppose I have, but not for a long time. I'm only eighteen, Marcus. There's so much I want to do first."

Marcus nodded, understanding but curious. "What do you want to do before that?"

You sighed, the weight of your dreams pressing against the confines of your reality. "I want to see the world, and experience things beyond the confines of my father's estate. I want to spend time with my mother, and really get to know her again. And... I want to build something with you, something that’s ours, without the shadow of my family's expectations hanging over us."

Marcus's curiosity was piqued. "An addition?"

You nodded, a determined look in your eyes. "I want us to live in the villa. The one where we honeymooned and where I spent my childhood. It holds so many memories, and it's the one place that feels like home to me."

Marcus's expression softened. "The villa? That place is beautiful. I can see why you'd want to make it our home."

"It's more than just beautiful," you explained. "It's where I felt happiest, where my mother and I had some of our best times before everything fell apart. It feels like a safe haven, and I want to create new, happy memories there with you."

He squeezed your hand, his eyes searching yours. "And you think having kids would interfere with that?"

"Not interfere, exactly," you clarified, trying to articulate your feelings. "It's just... I want to be ready. I want to be in a place where I feel secure and happy, where I know I can give them the love and stability they deserve. And right now, I'm not there yet. We’re not there yet."

Marcus tilted his head, a teasing smile playing on his lips. "So, you're saying you need more time to figure things out? Typical."

You narrowed your eyes at him, a playful glint in your gaze. "And what's that supposed to mean, exactly?"

He chuckled, his laugh a warm, familiar sound. "Just that you're always planning, always thinking ahead. Sometimes, I think you should just live in the moment a little more."

You huffed, a mock frown forming on your face. "Oh, and I suppose you're the expert on living in the moment?"

"Absolutely," he said with a grin, leaning back and folding his arms behind his head. "I am the very definition of spontaneous."

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a smile. "Right, because nothing says 'spontaneous' like planning out our every move on this journey."

"Hey, that was different," he defended, though his eyes twinkled with amusement. "I was being responsible, making sure we didn't end up stranded in the middle of nowhere."

You shook your head, laughing softly. "You know, sometimes I think you just like arguing with me."

He leaned forward, his expression turning serious but his eyes still warm. "Maybe I do. But only because I care about you. And I want to make sure we're on the same page about our future."

You softened, feeling the sincerity in his words. "I know, Marcus. And I appreciate it. I really do. We'll get there, together. But right now, I need to focus on the present, on getting my mother to the villa and figuring out our next steps."

Marcus nodded, his expression resolute. "Then that's what we'll do. Together."

The carriage came to a halt after the long journey. You were back at your father’s palace. The first person in your line of sight was Aurelia, standing tall and poised beside your father. Her presence always brought a mixture of emotions—resentment, bitterness, and a grudging respect for her unyielding confidence. Your father, ever the imposing figure, stood with his arms crossed, a stern expression on his face.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as Marcus helped you down from the carriage. His hand was a reassuring anchor in the sea of emotions swirling inside you. Your mind raced with thoughts—fear, anticipation, and a deep-seated dread. The memory of the villa, your mother's isolation, and your father's control weighed heavily on you. And now, the nagging worry that you might not be pregnant gnawed at your insides. You had to face them both with a facade of calm.

Marcus’s grip on your hand tightened slightly as you approached your father and Aurelia. He had always been your guide, your support, and now was no different. His presence gave you the strength to lift your chin and meet their gaze head-on.

“Welcome back,” your father said, his voice cold and detached. “I trust your journey was uneventful.”

“It was fine, Father,” you replied, forcing a polite smile. “Thank you for asking.”

Aurelia’s eyes glinted with a mixture of amusement and malice. “You look well,” she said, her tone dripping with false sweetness. “I’m sure the trip was good for you both.”

Before you could respond, your father turned his gaze to Marcus, his eyes narrowing. “Did you manage to fulfill your duties, Marcus? I trust you took full advantage of the... solitude?”

You felt Marcus stiffen beside you, his grip on your hand tightening. “Our trip was about more than just that, Sir,” Marcus replied evenly, though you could sense the tension in his voice.

Your father wasn’t satisfied. “More than that? Do you understand the gravity of your position, Marcus? My daughter’s primary responsibility is to produce an heir. Have you been diligent in your efforts, or have you been wasting time?”

Anger flared inside you, and you stepped forward, your voice sharp. “That’s quite inappropriate, Father. Our trip was about reconnecting and planning our future.”

Your father raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Your future is already decided. You are to produce an heir. Everything else is secondary.”

Marcus intervened, his voice calm and measured. “With all due respect, Sir, building a strong foundation for our future is essential for the well-being of our potential children. It ensures they are brought into a stable and loving environment, which, in the long term, benefits your legacy.”

You bristled at your father’s invasive question, but Marcus’s reasoning was sound. Your father’s eyes flickered with a hint of consideration before hardening again. “Your pretty words won’t change the facts. An heir is needed. Quickly.”

Aurelia’s laughter cut through the air, sharp and vindictive. “Now, now, let’s not get heated. We’re all family here, aren’t we?”

You shot her a glare, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, yes, family. How could I forget?”

Aurelia continued, her tone saccharine. “Your father only wants what’s best for you. We all do.”

Marcus stepped in, his voice calm but firm. “We understand the expectations, but we also need to live our lives the way we see fit. The stability and happiness of our family should come first.”

Your father’s eyes narrowed further. “You will do as you’re told. You owe it to this family.”

The tension in the air was palpable, and you felt your frustration boiling over. “I owe this family nothing. I’ve been controlled and manipulated my entire life. I won’t stand for it any longer.”

Aurelia stepped closer, her presence imposing. “Let’s not forget our manners, dear. We all have roles to play, and you must play yours.”

Your temper flared at her condescension, the years of resentment bubbling to the surface. “And what exactly is my role, Aurelia? To be paraded around like a prize, while you sit here on your high horse?”

Aurelia’s smile was icy. “Careful, sister. Your jealousy is showing. Not everyone is cut out for greatness.”

You took a step forward, hand twitching with the urge to slap her. “Jealousy? Of you? Don’t make me laugh.”

Before you could act on your impulse, Marcus gently but firmly grasped your arm, pulling you back. “Enough,” he said quietly, his voice a mix of warning and concern.

Aurelia’s smirk widened, sensing victory. “Always the temperamental one. It’s a wonder Marcus puts up with you.”

You were about to retort when a maid hurried into the courtyard, her face pale and anxious. “My lord, my lady,” she addressed your father and Aurelia, glancing nervously at you. “I have urgent news.”

Your father’s stern expression softened slightly. “Speak.”

The maid took a deep breath. “Lady Aurelia is with child.”

Aurelia’s triumphant smile was instantaneous, and she looked at you with smug satisfaction. “Looks like I’ll be fulfilling my role just fine.”

You felt as if the ground had dropped from beneath you. The news hit you hard, a mix of emotions swirling inside you—anger, hurt, and a deep-seated fear of being overshadowed.

Your father stepped forward, his gaze heavy with expectation. “I hope to hear the same from you soon,” he said, his tone a blend of command and disappointment. “But for now, I have work to do and a marriage to finalize with your mother. We’ll speak more of this later.”

Marcus tightened his grip on your arm, sensing your rising fury. “Let’s go,” he murmured, practically dragging you away before you could lash out further.

As you walked briskly away from the courtyard, you seethed. “How dare she? How dare he?” you muttered, your mind racing with thoughts of betrayal and injustice.

Marcus slowed his pace, his expression one of deep concern. “You can’t let them get to you like this.”

“How can I not?” you shot back, your voice trembling with emotion. “She always wins, always gets the praise, and now this? And Father... he doesn’t even see me.”

Marcus stopped, turning to face you fully. “I see you. I’ve always seen you. And I love you for who you are, not for any role you’re supposed to play.”

His words were meant to comfort, but the pain of your father’s disregard and Aurelia’s gloating was too fresh, too raw. “It’s not enough,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. “I need to be more than just... tolerated.”

Arriving at your bedchamber, you muttered under your breath, “He wants to finalize the marriage with my mother. To bind us even more to his plans.”

Marcus closed the door behind you, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and determination. You stood there for a moment, the weight of everything crashing down on you, before the rage started to build. The anger that had been simmering all day erupted like a volcano.

“Gods, Marcus, I can’t take this anymore!” you screamed, your voice breaking with the force of your emotions. “Every single thing he does, every decision he makes, it’s all about control. He treats us like pawns, like we’re nothing more than pieces on his chessboard!”

Marcus watched you, his face stoic, but his eyes were full of understanding. He knew you needed to get it all out, to release the torrent of fury that had been building for so long.

You began to pace the room, your hands clenched into fists. “He wants nothing to do with my mother, and now he’s probably scheming to marry her off to some other noble. It’s like she’s just another tool to be used! And Aurelia—gods, I hate her. She’s always gloating, always scheming. She thinks she can replace my mother and secure her own power. And now, she’s pregnant before me. Pregnant! Not that I want to be pregnant, but she’s doing it just to spite me, just to rub it in my face!”

Your movements became more erratic, your pacing more frantic. “And my mother, what will happen to her? She’ll be left with nothing. Nothing! While Aurelia parades around, acting like she owns everything. She’s pregnant, Marcus, and everyone will fawn over her, praise her, while I’m just... just here. Expected to play a role, to be a good little pawn in his game.”

You stopped pacing abruptly, turning to Marcus with fire in your eyes. “And do you know what I want? I just want to be with you. I want to fuck my new husband without having to think about heirs and duties and all this... this bullshit! Is that so much to ask?”

Tears of pure rage welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. You wiped them away furiously, refusing to let them fall. “I hate him, Marcus. I hate the way he makes me feel, the way he manipulates everything to suit his own needs. And I hate that I feel so powerless against him.”

Marcus stepped closer, his hands outstretched, but you waved him off, needing to continue venting. “And it’s not just him. It’s everything. The way Aurelia gloats, the way the servants look at me with pity, the endless expectations and demands. I can’t even breathe without feeling like I’m disappointing someone. It’s suffocating!”

Your voice broke as you continued, the tears finally spilling over. But they weren’t tears of sadness—they were tears of anger, of frustration, of sheer, unadulterated fury. “I’m so tired of feeling trapped, of feeling like I’m not good enough. I want to live my own life, make my own choices. I want to be free, Marcus. Is that too much to ask?”

You turned to him, your chest heaving with the effort of releasing all your pent-up anger. Marcus stepped forward and pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. You resisted at first, but then you let yourself sink into his embrace, the fury still burning inside you but tempered by his presence.

“I love you,” Marcus whispered, his voice steady and calm. “I love you for who you are, not for who you’re supposed to be. You’re not alone in this. We’ll find a way.”

His words were few, but they were like a balm to your raging soul. You clung to him, letting the tears flow freely now, your body shaking with the force of your emotions. “I just want to be free,” you whispered, your voice broken but determined.

Marcus held you tighter, his hand gently stroking your hair. “We will be,” he promised. “We’ll find a way to break free from all of this. Together.”

You cried into his shoulder, your tears soaking his shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind. He just held you, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions. Slowly, the fury began to ebb, replaced by a weary resolve.

“We’ll get through this,” Marcus said softly, his voice full of conviction. “One step at a time. And we won’t let him win. Not now, not ever.”

You nodded against his shoulder, the fire inside you still burning but now directed towards a purpose. “We’ll fight,” you agreed, your voice steadying. “We’ll fight for our freedom, for our future. Together.”

Marcus pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands. “Together,” he echoed, his eyes full of love and determination.

You took a deep breath, feeling a new sense of resolve. The road ahead would be difficult, but you were ready to face it. With Marcus by your side, you knew you could overcome anything. And you would—no matter what it took.

As you pulled back from Marcus, your eyes met his, and you felt a flicker of hope. But then reality crashed back in. “But what if things don’t change, Marcus? What if life in Rome is just more of the same? More schemes, more manipulation?”

Marcus sighed his brow furrowing in thought. “Life in Rome will have its challenges, no doubt. The politics, the power plays—it won’t be easy. But we’ll navigate it together. We’ve faced worse before, and we’ve come out stronger.”

The truth of his words resonated with you, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface. “I just wish we didn’t have to play these games. I want to live, Marcus. Really live.”

He nodded, his expression serious. “And we will. We’ll find moments of peace, places where we can be ourselves. Just like the beach. We’ll make our own freedom, carve out our own happiness. It won’t be easy, but it will be worth it.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside you. “I’m just so tired of fighting. Tired of always being on edge.”

Marcus pulled you close again, his embrace strong and reassuring. “I know. But you’re not alone in this fight. We’ll face it together, and we’ll find a way to create the life we want. No matter what it takes.”

You leaned into his embrace, feeling a mix of exhaustion and determination. The road ahead was uncertain, but with Marcus by your side, you felt a glimmer of hope. Together, you would face whatever challenges came your way, and together, you would find a way to break free from the chains that bound you.

“My lord, there’s—” the guard started, but you pulled away from Marcus, not wanting anyone to see you so vulnerable.

“What is it?” you snapped, your voice sharp.

The guard hesitated, clearly taken aback by your tone. “There’s a situation in the courtyard. Your father demands your presence immediately.”

You exchanged a worried glance with Marcus before standing. “Fine. Tell him we’re coming.”

As the guard left, you turned to Marcus, your earlier anger rekindling. “This never ends, does it? He won’t even let me have a moment of peace.”

Marcus squeezed your hand, his touch reassuring. “We’ll handle it. Together.”

As you walked with Marcus toward the courtyard, the weight of unspoken words hung between you. Your frustration bubbled up, manifesting in a sharp, sarcastic tone. “Another grand announcement from my dear father. How thrilling.”

Marcus squeezed your hand gently, trying to calm the storm inside you. “We’ll face it together.”

In the courtyard, your father stood at the center, flanked by Aurelia and a handful of stern-faced servants. His piercing gaze locked onto you and Marcus as you approached.

“Well, isn’t this just a picture-perfect family moment?” you said, your voice dripping with irony.

Your father’s expression hardened. “Enough. This is a matter of utmost importance.”

You sighed, preparing for yet another lecture, but your father’s voice turned icy and commanding. “We’ve received correspondence from the Emperor. He demands your and Marcus’s presence at the palace immediately.”

Marcus’s calm demeanor shattered as he took the letter from your father’s outstretched hand. His face paled as he read the contents.

“What does it say?” you asked, trying to peek over his shoulder. But Marcus remained silent, his eyes fixed on the letter, brows furrowed in concern.

Your father’s voice cut through the tense silence. “You are to leave at dawn. Be prepared.”

Marcus nodded stiffly. “We will.”

As you turned to leave, Aurelia’s mocking tone echoed behind you. “Do try not to disgrace the family.”

The knot in your stomach tightened with each step you took away from the courtyard. “Marcus, what’s in the letter?”

He didn’t respond, his silence only amplifying your anxiety. When you reached your chambers, he finally turned to face you, worry etched into his features.

“Marcus, what’s going on?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair. “The Emperor has summoned us. This isn’t a polite request; it’s a command. Refusing isn’t an option.”

Your heart raced as you processed his words. “But why? What does the Emperor want with us?”

Marcus’s expression darkened. “It’s about the gladiators. He wants my insights on the performance of the newest recruits.”

You blinked in disbelief. “Gladiators? Why does he care about your opinion on that?”

Marcus’s laugh was bitter, a sound you rarely heard from him. “Because I wasn’t always a general. I was once a gladiator. The Emperor thinks my perspective is valuable.”

Sarcasm bubbled up as you tried to cope with the mounting fear. “So we’re just part of his entertainment now? I know how gladiators work, Marcus.”

His eyes flashed with a sudden coldness, his voice slicing through your sarcasm. “No, you don’t. You’ve never been in the arena, fighting for your life. You’ve never faced that horror.”

You recoiled at the intensity of his response. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just...”

“Just what?” he snapped. “Think it’s easy? Think it’s something I want to revisit? The Emperor wants to parade my past, to judge others as I was judged. It’s a matter of life and death for those men.”

Your anger melted away, replaced by a creeping fear. “Marcus, I’m sorry. I didn’t understand.”

He cut you off, his voice low and fierce. “I want nothing to do with that life. But I’m not foolish enough to disobey the Emperor again.”

You stared at him, your own emotions swirling inside you. “So what do we do?”

Marcus was like a stone wall as he spoke, his voice steady and unyielding. “We go. We play their game. The upbringing you despise, the training that shaped me—it has to be on full display. Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla are not kind rulers. They won't hesitate to use anyone for their own gain.”

A bitter laugh escaped you. “You just saw me scream and yell. I’m not exactly the epitome of grace and strategy.”

Marcus’s expression softened for a moment, a hint of a smile touching his lips. “You’re more than you realize. But we need to be careful. They’re not just rulers; they’re predators. We have to show them strength, unity.”

You shook your head, the weight of it all pressing down on you. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, Marcus. I won’t let them drag you back into that life. I won’t let them take you away from me.”

He reached out, cupping your face in his hands. “I love you,” he said, his voice filled with fierce tenderness. “But we have to be smart about this. We need to present a united front, show them we’re not to be trifled with.”

You nodded, your resolve hardening. “Together, then. We face them together.”

Marcus pulled you into a tight embrace, his warmth grounding you amidst the turmoil. “We’ll get through this,” he whispered. “We have to.”

As you and Marcus entered the grand hall of the palace, the air was thick with tension. The towering pillars and opulent decorations did little to mask the underlying menace that seemed to permeate the room. Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla sat upon their thrones, their eyes narrowing as they took in the sight of Marcus and you approaching.

“Well, well, if it isn’t our esteemed gladiator,” Geta drawled, his voice dripping with condescension. “And his rebellious bride. How charming.”

Caracalla’s gaze was colder, more calculating. “It’s been some time, Marcus. I trust you’ve found civilized life to your liking?”

Marcus’s face remained impassive, but you could feel the tension in his body beside you. “I serve as I am commanded, Your Majesties.”

Geta smirked, his eyes flicking to you. “And your wife. How interesting that you chose to marry someone with such a... colorful history. Tell me, my dear, do you still harbor those rebellious thoughts?”

A chill ran down your spine at his words, and you forced yourself to remain calm. “I am loyal to my husband and to the throne,” you said, hoping your voice didn’t betray your fear.

Caracalla leaned forward, his gaze piercing. “We shall see. Loyalty is tested in the most unexpected ways.”

Your mind raced as you tried to gauge their intentions. The emperors had made Marcus a gladiator, using him for their entertainment and power. Now they were testing you both, probing for any signs of defiance. You knew this was more than a mere audience; it was a test of your loyalty and a way to ensure you posed no threat to their rule.

“I understand your concerns, Your Majesties,” Marcus said, his voice steady and controlled. “But I assure you, we have no intention of going against the throne.”

Geta chuckled the sound grating on your nerves. “Intentions can change. We simply want to make sure you remember where your loyalties lie.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a surge of fear. This was your chance to protect your mother, to ensure she wasn’t caught in the crossfire of political games. If you could gain the emperor’s favor, perhaps they would leave her alone. As the conversation continued, your mind churned with thoughts of her. She had always been a pawn in these power struggles, and you couldn’t bear the thought of her suffering because of your actions. You needed to be careful, to play their game and show them you were no threat.

But despite your efforts to remain composed, your nerves betrayed you. Your hands trembled slightly, and you felt a cold sweat break out on your forehead. You glanced at Marcus, hoping for some reassurance. His eyes met yours, and in that moment, you found an unspoken comfort. His presence was a steady anchor, grounding you amidst the storm of your emotions.

Marcus noticed your fear, and though he didn’t say anything, his hand subtly brushed against yours, a silent promise that he was there for you. His strength and unwavering support bolstered your resolve, giving you the courage to face the emperors.

Caracalla’s gaze shifted between you and Marcus, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “We shall see how well you fare under scrutiny. Your loyalty will be tested, both of you.”

Geta’s expression darkened. “Do not forget, Marcus, that we made you what you are. And we can unmake you just as easily.”

Marcus’s jaw tightened, but he remained composed. “I am aware.”

The emperors exchanged a satisfied glance, clearly enjoying their display of power. “You are dismissed,” Geta said, waving a hand dismissively. “Remember, we are always watching.”

As you and Marcus turned to leave, your heart pounded in your chest. The encounter had been a stark reminder of the precariousness of your situation. You were walking a tightrope, balancing your need to protect your family with the constant threat of imperial retribution.

Once you were outside the hall, you let out a shaky breath. Marcus pulled you into a quiet alcove, his hands gently cupping your face. But instead of finding solace in his touch, you saw the fear in his eyes, a deep-rooted terror that mirrored your own.

“Marcus,” you whispered, your voice trembling, “are you alright?”

He tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m fine,” he said, but the lie was thin, transparent.

You took his hand, feeling the tremor in his fingers. “No, you’re not. You’re scared.”

Marcus’s eyes darted away, his shoulders tensing. “I can’t go back to that life,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t be their pawn again.”

You felt a surge of protectiveness, the same anger that had fueled you the day before now burning on his behalf. “We won’t let them do that to you,” you said fiercely. “I won’t let them.”

His gaze snapped back to you, a mixture of fear and desperation in his eyes. “How can you be so sure? They’re the emperors. They can do whatever they want.”

You squeezed his hand, pulling him closer. “Because we’re stronger together. And we won’t let them break us.”

He took a shuddering breath, his eyes searching yours. “I don’t want to go back to that place,” he said, his voice breaking. “The things I did, the things I saw...”

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight. “You’re not alone, Marcus. I’m here with you.”

For a moment, he clung to you, his body shaking with the force of his emotions. Then, he pulled back, his eyes haunted. “Sometimes, it’s like I’m still there. Like I never left.”

You felt a pang of fear for him, a deep concern that he was showing signs of something you couldn’t quite understand but knew was serious. “We’ll get through this,” you said, your voice steady. “But right now, we need to get to our room. You need to rest.”

He nodded, his grip on your hand tightening. Together, you made your way back to your chambers, the weight of the day pressing down on you both. Once inside, you closed the door and guided him to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Talk to me,” you urged gently. “Tell me what’s going on in your mind.”

Marcus’s eyes were distant, as if he was seeing something far away. “It’s like... like I can hear the crowds again. Feel the sand under my feet, the weight of the sword in my hand. The fear, the anger—it all comes rushing back.”

You knelt before him, taking his hands in yours. “You’re not there anymore. You’re here with me.”

He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “But I’m not, am I? I’m always going to be that gladiator to them. A tool to be used, a spectacle to be enjoyed.”

Your heart ached for him, for the pain he was reliving. “Marcus, look at me.”

His eyes met yours, and you saw the depth of his fear, the scars that ran deeper than you had realized.

“You’re not just a gladiator,” you said firmly. “You’re my husband. You’re a general, a leader, a man with a future. And we’re going to get through this together. We’re going to show them that they don’t control us.”

He took a deep breath, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he admitted. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”

“You are,” you said, your voice unwavering. “And when you feel like you can’t go on, I’ll be here to hold you up. Just like you’ve always done for me.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “You’ll never have to find out,” you murmured. “We’re in this together, no matter what.”

Marcus held you for a few moments longer, then pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your shoulders. “Can we talk about something else?” he asked, his voice tinged with weariness. “I need to take my mind off all of this.”

You nodded, offering a small smile. “Of course. Actually, when I was in the carriage, I was brushing up on my Latin. Just in case the emperors decided to make things even more difficult by not speaking English.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “The carriage? I was wondering what you were saying to the driver.”

A laugh broke through his tense demeanor, the sound lifting some of the weight between you. “Latin, huh? How’s that going?”

You shrugged, feeling a bit more at ease. “Not too bad, actually. Although, I think I might have accidentally told the driver that his mother is a donkey.”

Marcus chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Well, I’m sure he appreciated the compliment.”

You playfully swatted his arm. “Hey, I’m trying here! Besides, it’s not like I had much else to do.”

He shook his head, still smiling. “Come here,” he said, his voice softer now as he pulled you into his lap, guiding you to straddle him. His hands settled on your hips, and you could feel the warmth of his body through your clothes.

You relaxed against him, your arms looping around his neck. “I missed this,” you admitted, your fingers tracing gentle patterns on his skin. “Just being us.”

“Me too,” he murmured, his hands moving up your back in a soothing motion. “It feels like everything’s been so chaotic lately.”

You nodded, resting your forehead against his. “But we have each other, and that’s what matters.”

He smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “Always.”

For a while, you sat there in comfortable silence, the tension from the day slowly melting away. You exchanged light-hearted banter, your bickering and teasing gradually returning to the easy rhythm you both cherished.

“Remember when we first met?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips.

Marcus’s eyes lit up with the memory. “How could I forget? You were trying to run away from our arranged marriage and fell off the horse you were riding.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I was so determined to escape. I didn’t even realize how dangerous it was.”

He chuckled softly. “You were fierce, that’s for sure. Maybe I should teach you how to ride properly.”

You raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Are we still talking about horses?”

Marcus’s grin widened, his eyes darkening with playful intent. “Depends. Do you want a lesson?”

You leaned in, your breath mingling with his. “Only if you promise to be a very hands-on teacher.”

He kissed you back, his hands tightening on your hips. “Oh, I’ll make sure you get all the practice you need.”

You pulled back slightly, your expression turning more serious. “Marcus, can I ask you something?”

He nodded, his gaze steady. “Of course. Anything.”

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. “What do you think about kids? How many would you want? And… do you have any names in mind?”

Marcus looked thoughtful, his brow furrowing slightly. “I’ve always wanted a big family,” he said slowly. “Maybe three or four kids. I think it would be nice for them to have siblings, to grow up with a sense of family and support.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. “I’d like that too. And names?”

He smiled, a distant look in his eyes. “I’ve always liked the name Alexander for a boy. And maybe Lucia for a girl. Strong names, with history and meaning.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of contentment. “I like those names. They feel… right.”

He hesitated for a moment, then looked at you with a mixture of concern and vulnerability. “Is there something else on your mind?”

You bit your lip, feeling a bit nervous. “Actually, yes. I was wondering… could you stop cumming inside of me every time we… you know, make love?”

Marcus blinked, clearly taken aback by your request. “Why? Is something wrong?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just… I want to make sure we’re both ready when we decide to have children. I don’t want to rush into it because of… well, an accident.”

He looked relieved, then thoughtful. “I understand. I just… I guess I hadn’t really thought about it that way.”

You smiled, cupping his face in your hands. “I love you, Marcus. And I want us to build our family together when we’re both ready.”

He nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You’re right. We should be deliberate about this. I promise, I’ll be more careful.”

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”

He kissed you back, his hands moving to cradle your face. “I love you. More than anything.”

You rested your forehead against his, feeling a deep sense of peace. “We’ll get through this, Marcus. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

He nodded, his eyes filled with love and determination. “Together.”

You sat in the coliseum, the roaring crowd around you a stark contrast to the turmoil within. The naval battle below was a spectacle of chaos and violence, the clash of cannons reverberating through the air, each blast sending shockwaves that you could feel in your chest. Ships collided with bone-jarring force, the sound of wood splintering and men shouting echoing through the vast arena.

The emperors insisted on your attention. Emperor Geta’s voice cut through the noise, a chilling command. “Watch closely, my dear. This is the true essence of power.”

You forced yourself to turn back to the spectacle. A cannonball ripped through the hull of a ship, sending debris and bodies flying. The water turned red with blood, the cries of the dying blending with the roar of the crowd. Your stomach twisted, and you clenched your hands in your lap, willing the nausea to pass.

You tried to focus on the details, finding yourself strangely drawn to the movements and strategies of the combatants. You rooted silently for the ship you wanted to see survive, your heart racing with each close call. The emperors watched you closely, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and amusement. They seemed to thrive on the chaos, their power evident in the way they manipulated those around them.

Emperor Caracalla leaned in, his voice dripping with malice. “Do you see how they struggle? Like ants in a flood, all their efforts meaningless. Yet, it's so entertaining.”

You nodded absently, your mind half-focused on the battle. The cruelty of the emperors was a constant presence, but you found yourself oddly captivated by the sheer spectacle of the naval engagement. Each cannon blast, each desperate maneuver, drew you in deeper.

Marcus was away, speaking with the other generals, his face drawn and pale when he returned. He immediately noticed your distress. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice low and urgent.

You shook your head, unable to find the words. He took your hand, squeezing it gently, his own fear and worry evident in his eyes. “I hate this,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “But I can’t look away.”

Marcus’s eyes darkened with understanding. “That’s their power,” he said softly. “They make us complicit in their cruelty.”

Emperor Geta’s voice interrupted your exchange. “Ah, Marcus. Come, sit with us. Enjoy the show.”

Reluctantly, Marcus guided you to sit beside him, his grip on your hand tight. The emperors’ attention shifted back to the battle, their comments filled with a sickly admiration for the carnage. “Look at that,” Geta exclaimed as another ship went down, “such bravery wasted on a lost cause.”

Caracalla chuckled darkly. “Indeed. It’s fascinating how they cling to hope even in the face of certain death.”

Marcus’s jaw clenched, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and sadness. He leaned in closer to you. “They won’t talk about the true cost,” he said, his voice barely audible. “The lives lost, the families left behind. To them, it’s all just a game.”

You nodded, your hand tightening around his. The brutal display below was more than just a show; it was a reminder of the emperors' absolute power and the fragility of your position. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and the deafening roar of the crowd, a relentless assault on your senses. You could barely focus on the battles, your mind racing with fear and the need to stay strong for Marcus.

The next gladiators entered the arena, their expressions a mixture of determination and resignation. As they clashed, you tried to avoid looking at the bloodshed, but the emperors' voices cut through your resolve. "Watch carefully," Caracalla commanded, his tone devoid of empathy. "This is where men are forged."

Marcus’s hand trembled in yours, and you could feel his heart pounding as if it were your own. He kept his eyes on the fighters, but you could see the haunted look in his gaze, memories of his own time in the arena flooding back. His muscles were tense, every fiber of his being screaming to protect you, to fight against the fate they were trying to impose on you both.

With each brutal kill, the emperors’ excitement grew. They leaned forward, shouting encouragement and jeering at the combatants, their faces alight with sadistic pleasure. "Ah, there it is!" Geta exclaimed as a particularly gruesome decapitation took place. "Such skill, such beauty in the art of death."

You pressed closer to Marcus, trying to shield yourself from the horror unfolding below. "We have to find a way out," you whispered, your voice trembling. "We can’t let them do this to us."

Marcus nodded, his eyes never leaving the arena. "I know," he said, his voice strained. "But we have to be careful. They’re watching our every move."

The next fight began, even more savage than the last. You felt as if you were trapped in a nightmare, unable to escape the relentless violence. Marcus’s grip on your hand was the only thing keeping you grounded, a lifeline in the sea of blood and death.

The emperors’ voices grew louder, their laughter echoing around the coliseum. “You see, Marcus,” Geta said, turning to him with a predatory smile. “This is why we miss you. Your fights were always the highlight, full of glory and gore. These men… they lack your finesse.”

Marcus stiffened beside you, his grip on your hand tightening. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the barely controlled fear and anger simmering beneath the surface. His breath was shallow, his eyes darting nervously around the coliseum. The confident warrior you knew seemed to have vanished, replaced by a man haunted by his past.

Caracalla leaned in, his gaze fixed on the arena below where a mere boy, no older than twelve, was being led out. The tiger, a majestic and deadly creature, prowled on the other side, its eyes gleaming with hunger. “Tell us, Marcus,” Caracalla said with a sinister gleam in his eye, “who do you favor? The boy or the beast?”

A chill ran down your spine, and you found your voice. “This is madness,” you protested, your voice trembling. “He’s just a child!”

Geta’s gaze snapped to you, his eyes cold and unfeeling. “Silence,” he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. “Marcus will speak for himself.”

Marcus’s jaw tightened, his eyes flicking between the boy and the tiger. He looked like a man on the edge, torn between his desire to protect and his fear of the consequences. “Neither,” he said finally, his voice shaky. “This isn’t a fight. It’s a slaughter.”

Caracalla’s laughter was a harsh, grating sound. “Oh, but that’s the beauty of it, isn’t it? The unpredictability, the thrill of survival against impossible odds.”

You wanted to scream, to protest further, but the emperors’ power was absolute. You could only watch in horror as the scene below unfolded. The boy looked terrified, his small frame trembling as he faced the tiger. The crowd’s bloodthirsty roars grew louder, drowning out any semblance of reason.

“Perhaps,” Geta said, his smile never reaching his eyes, “Marcus should fight instead. Show us once again why he was the best.”

Marcus’s hand tightened around yours, the pressure almost painful. You felt his body tremble, each muscle tense with a mixture of fear and anger. His eyes were fixed on the boy and the tiger, a haunted look replacing the confidence you once knew. His breath came in short, sharp gasps, betraying the inner turmoil he was desperately trying to contain.

“No!” you exclaimed, unable to contain yourself. “He’s not your puppet. He’s not here for your entertainment.”

Caracalla’s eyes narrowed, his gaze locking onto you with a predatory intensity. “Such spirit,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Marcus, you are a lucky man.”

The words seemed to cut through Marcus like a blade. He turned to you, his eyes wide and wild. “Stop,” he hissed, his voice low and trembling with fear. “Just stop. You’re making it worse.”

You felt a pang of hurt at his harsh words, but you knew he was scared. You squeezed his hand, trying to offer comfort, but he pulled away, his gaze flicking nervously between you and the emperors.

“Perhaps,” Geta said, his smile never reaching his eyes, “Marcus should fight instead. Show us once again why he was the best.”

Marcus didn’t protest this time. He didn’t argue or try to reason with them. He simply stood there, his body rigid, his face pale. You could see the fear in his eyes, the memories of past battles and bloodshed that haunted him.

“Marcus, please,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Don’t do this.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and desperation. “I have no choice,” he said softly. “They leave me none.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "What exactly are the terms?" you asked, your voice firmer than you felt.

The emperors exchanged amused glances. Geta leaned forward, a predatory smile on his lips. "If Marcus wins, he may choose any residence owned by us as a treat for his newlywed wife. A generous offer, wouldn't you say?"

"And if he loses?" you pressed, your stomach twisting with dread.

Caracalla's smile was a twisted mockery of kindness. "If he loses, he will fight for all of Rome again. But this time, he will take the place of the boy who is supposed to fight the lion."

Your blood ran cold at the thought. "This is madness," you whispered, barely able to contain your horror. "You're talking about a man's life as if it's a game."

"Everything is a game, my dear," Geta replied, his tone dripping with condescension. "And Marcus knows the rules better than anyone."

Marcus stood there, his face pale, his body trembling with a mix of fear and determination. He looked at you, his eyes pleading. "I will do what I must," he said softly. "For us."

“No, Marcus, you can't,” you protested, your voice breaking. “There has to be another way.”

He shook his head, his expression pained. “I have no choice,” he repeated, the words a hollow echo of resignation.

Before you could say more, the emperors' guards stepped forward, their grips firm and unyielding as they held you back, you struggled against them, your desperation mounting. “Please, don’t do this,” you pleaded, your voice rising in panic. “He’s not your pawn!”

Geta's cold eyes locked onto you, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Such fire,” he mused, almost to himself. “But Marcus knows his duty.”

Caracalla laughed, the sound grating and malevolent. “Watch closely, my dear,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “You might learn something about true power.”

You felt the blood drain from your face as Marcus turned away, walking slowly toward the arena's entrance. The boy and the tiger were being led back into their cages, the boy’s terrified eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment before he disappeared from view. Your heart ached for him, but it was Marcus who now faced the same deadly fate.

As the gates closed behind Marcus, you were left standing at the edge of the arena, your hands clenched into fists. The crowd’s roars grew louder, their bloodlust palpable. You sank into your seat, your body trembling with fear and helplessness.

Moments stretched into an eternity, each second marked by the deafening cheers of the spectators. Finally, Marcus emerged, clad in armor and wielding a sword. His face was a mask of determination, but you could see the fear in his eyes. He looked up at you, and you mouthed silently, “I believe in you.”

The gate opposite Marcus creaked open, and the tiger was released. It prowled forward, its muscles rippling under its striped fur, eyes locked onto Marcus with predatory intent. The crowd’s cheers reached a fever pitch, a cacophony of excitement and anticipation.

“Look at him,” Geta murmured to Caracalla, his voice barely audible over the din. “Still has that fire in him, even after all this time.”

Caracalla nodded a twisted smile on his lips. “It’s what makes him so entertaining. Let’s see if he still has the skill to match.”

You clung to your seat, your heart racing as you watched the tiger circle Marcus. Every fiber of your being was focused on him, silently willing him to survive. The arena seemed to shrink, the world narrowing to the deadly dance between man and beast.

Marcus moved with a cautious grace, his sword held steady. The tiger lunged, and he sidestepped, bringing his blade down in a swift arc. The tiger snarled, more angry than hurt, and the battle truly began.

Each clash was a test of Marcus’s skill and endurance. The tiger’s powerful swipes and lunges were met with precise parries and counterattacks. The crowd roared with every close call, their bloodthirsty excitement a constant backdrop to the deadly struggle.

Geta leaned closer to Caracalla, his eyes gleaming with interest. “He’s slower than he used to be,” he commented, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

“But still formidable,” Caracalla replied, his gaze never leaving the arena. “Let’s see how long he can keep this up.”

Your eyes never left Marcus, every movement of his sword, every step he took etched into your mind. You saw the strain in his posture, the weariness beginning to show. But you also saw his determination, the fire that drove him to protect you and fight for your future.

The tiger lunged again, and Marcus sidestepped, thrusting his sword into the beast’s side. The tiger roared in pain, but it wasn’t enough to bring it down. Marcus circled, his breathing heavy, his eyes focused on the next move.

You bit your lip, your hands gripping the edge of your seat. “Come on, Marcus,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the crowd. “You can do this.”

The emperors’ eyes were fixed on the battle, their expressions a mix of amusement and anticipation. “He still has some fight in him,” Geta remarked, his tone almost admiring.

Caracalla smirked. “Let’s see if he can finish it.”

With a final, desperate lunge, Marcus brought his sword down with all his strength. The blade struck true, piercing the tiger’s heart. The beast collapsed with a final roar, its body twitching in its death throes.

The crowd erupted into cheers, their bloodlust satisfied. Marcus stood there, panting and covered in sweat, his eyes searching the crowd until they found yours. He nodded once, a silent promise that he would come back to you.

Geta clapped his hands, a smile of satisfaction on his face. “Well done, Marcus,” he said, his voice carrying over the noise of the crowd. “You have earned your reward.”

Marcus approached, his steps unsteady but his resolve unwavering. “We did it,” he said softly, his voice filled with relief and love. “We made it.”

As soon as he reached you, your emotions overwhelmed you, and tears began to fall. You couldn’t hold them back any longer. The fear, the violence, the constant threat—it all came pouring out. Marcus wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as sobs wracked your body. “It’s over,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm. “We’re safe now.”

You buried your face in his chest, feeling the warmth and strength of his embrace. For a moment, it was just the two of you, the world outside fading away. But the respite was short-lived. The emperors, ever impatient, approached with their questions.

“What residence do you desire, Marcus?” Geta asked, his tone dismissive of your pain. “You must choose.”

Marcus looked up, his eyes hardening with determination. “A residence close to the villa near Calacari,” he said firmly. “It’s secluded and secure.”

Caracalla nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Very well. It will be arranged. Now, go and clean yourself. The blood is rather unbecoming.”

Marcus turned back to you, his eyes filled with concern. “Let’s get out of here,” he said gently, guiding you towards the bathhouse.

The bathhouse was a haven of calm, the warm steam rising in gentle curls, a stark contrast to the brutal scene you had just left. Marcus began to strip off his bloodstained clothes, wincing with each movement. You stepped forward to help, your fingers trembling as you undid the clasps and buttons. As his shirt came off, you gasped at the sight of new scars marring his skin.

“Marcus…” you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. “You’re hurt.”

He shook his head, trying to reassure you. “I’m alright. It looks worse than it is.”

You gently traced the lines of the scars, your touch soft and tender. “I hate seeing you like this,” you said, tears welling up again. “I wish I could take your pain away.”

Marcus smiled, a hint of his usual playful self returning. “You already do, just by being here with me.”

You helped him into the warm water, your movements careful and precise. As he sank into the bath, he let out a sigh of relief. You joined him, sitting beside him and gently washing away the blood and grime. The tension in his body gradually eased, though the pain was still evident in his eyes.

Despite the sadness, you couldn’t help but try to lighten the mood. “You know,” you said with a small smile, “I think I’m starting to enjoy taking care of you like this.”

Marcus chuckled softly, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. “I could get used to it,” he replied, his voice low and filled with warmth.

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Once we’re back in our own bed, I’ll take even better care of you,” you whispered, your tone both sweet and flirty.

His eyes darkened with desire, but as he tried to pull you closer, a sharp pain made him wince. “Maybe we should wait until I’m a bit more recovered,” he admitted, his voice strained.

You nodded, understanding and concern in your eyes. “Of course,” you said softly. “I just want you to be comfortable.”

Marcus smiled, his love for you shining through the pain. “We’ll have plenty of time for that,” he said, his hand gently caressing your arm. “Right now, let’s just be together.”

You sat in the bathhouse, the warm water soothing your tired bodies, the world outside momentarily forgotten. The future was uncertain, but as long as you had each other, you knew you could face anything. Marcus’s presence was your anchor, and together, you would find your way back to peace and happiness.

As you rested your head on his shoulder, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. The storm had passed, and now, it was time to heal and rebuild. With Marcus by your side, you knew that anything was possible.

After a long while of comfortable silence, you finally spoke, your voice soft but firm. “Marcus,” you began, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. “You can never, ever go silent on me like that again. Do you understand? The fear of not knowing what you were thinking, what you were feeling—it’s unbearable. If you ever do, you’ll have something far worse than a lion to face.”

He looked at you, his eyes wide with surprise, then slowly nodded. “I promise,” he said quietly, his voice filled with sincerity. “I will never shut you out again.”

You leaned in, pressing your forehead against his. “Good,” you whispered. “Because we face everything together, remember?”

“Always,” he replied, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace.

The weekend from hell was over. Between Aurelia's pregnancy and the gladiators, you and Marcus were emotionally drained. But one question still lingered. "Why the emperor's residence near Calacari?" you asked as the carriage rolled along the uneven roads, taking you away from the horrors of the coliseum.

Marcus looked at you, his eyes softening with tenderness. "It’s not just for us," he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "It's for your mother."

You frowned, confusion knitting your brow. "My mother? Why would you care about where she lives?"

He took a deep breath, his hand finding yours and squeezing gently. "Remember when you told me about your father? How you feared he might leave your mother with nothing? I couldn’t bear the thought of her being alone, vulnerable. This villa isn't on the water but further inland, so it won’t worsen her fear of the sea. She can live there with or without him, and she can stay by us whenever she wants."

You blinked, absorbing his words. "You thought of all that?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Marcus nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yes. I want her to have a safe place, a sanctuary. Just like I want for us. Life under Rome's rule is too cruel, too unpredictable. We deserve a place where we can be happy, away from the chaos."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you fought to keep them from spilling over. Instead, you leaned in and kissed him passionately, pouring all your gratitude and love into that one kiss. When you pulled back, you whispered, "Never ever go silent on me like that again, Marcus. You scared me. You’ll have something worse than a lion on your hands if you do."

He chuckled softly, a genuine smile breaking through his weary expression. "I promise," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I won't go silent on you again."

The carriage hit a bump, jolting you both, and you clung to Marcus, who winced in pain. "Are you alright?" you asked, your concern immediate.

He nodded, though his face betrayed the discomfort he felt. "I’m fine," he said, but his voice cracked, revealing the truth. "I miss the days when our biggest worry was a petty argument or growing pains. Now, I can't even have my wife on my lap without feeling like my body is falling apart."

Your heart ached for him, and you placed a gentle hand on his cheek. "We'll get through this, Marcus. Together. We’ll find peace and happiness, away from Rome’s cruelty."

Marcus sighed, leaning into your touch. "I hope so. I dream of a life where we can wake up to the sound of birds, not the roar of the crowd. A place where we can raise our children without fear."

You smiled, the vision of that future giving you strength. "We’ll make it happen. We’ll build that life, one day at a time."

Marcus smiled back at you, his eyes twinkling with a glimmer of hope. "I believe you, but how soon are we talking?" he asked, a playful tone creeping into his voice. "I don't think I can stand another day in Rome's chaos."

You chuckled, feeling a bit lighter. "Patience, my love. We’ll get there. But first, we need to survive the next few months."

Marcus groaned dramatically. "Months? You're killing me. I was hoping for days, maybe weeks."

You playfully swatted his arm. "Oh, stop it. You know it’ll take time to arrange everything."

He grinned, leaning in closer. "I guess I'll just have to endure your company in the meantime."

You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips. "Endure, huh? Is that what we're calling it now?"

His expression softened, and he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "I wouldn't trade a moment of it, not for anything," he said softly. "Even if it means dealing with your father’s wrath when we get back."

You sighed, the reality of your situation creeping back in. "He’s not going to take the news well, is he?"

Marcus shook his head. "No, probably not. But we’ll face it together. Just like we’ve faced everything else."

You nodded, drawing strength from his unwavering support. "Together," you echoed, the word a promise as much as a reassurance.

[cyberclouddream]

How to Spot: Air Signs Edition

Gemini Rising

- come off as if they’re all over the place, shallow, or flaky, constantly changing their appearance or vibe to fit the current trend

- they can charm the room without anyone really knowing who they are, though people can get annoyed with their inconsistency or superficiality

- when they feel good they’re generously spending, but when life gets tough they’re constantly hoarding things

- they overthink their spending to the point of paranoia, tying sentimental value to items and hate letting go of things

- they have an opinion on everything, and want to make sure you know it; they’re overly prideful of their ideas, even when they’re wrong

- home life may feel like a boot camp and family members may find them naggy and hard to please; nothings every clean, organized, or perfect enough for them

- may have a deep interest in family history or genealogy

- they fall in love with an image, not a person or thing, since they prioritize status and looks over emotional connection or creative expression

- either they’re completely dedicated or they’re not interested at all

- they don’t like sharing details about their work or health, and they’re prone to burnout from trying to maintain total control

- they start off hot and passionate but when they feel trapped they either ghost or pick fights to justify their need for space

- they can be hypocritical, demanding freedom while not necessarily granting it to their commitments or partners

- they often seem emotionally distant or rigid, treating emotional vulnerability like business transactions

- they can be too contrary, shoving their “open-mindedness” down other people’s throats; people can see them as someone who likes concepts over real-world practicality

- they can seem flaky or unreliable in their workplace; expect them to “find themselves” through many career changes or false starts

- they’re quick to argue and steamroll others to get what they want; if someone challenges their position in groups they’ll either fight to the top or abandon the group all together

- they can be stuck in their ways, preferring to suffer in silence rather than confront their fears or let go of habits

- they can get too comfortable with their emotional status quo, no matter how damaging it is

Libra Rising

- they desperately want to be liked and admired so they’re always putting on their “best face” in public, too busy trying to make everyone happy

- they avoid conflict like the plague, even if it means letting things fester under the surface

- they hide their true financial state from others, and may hoard money or material possessions; they may pull strings behind the scenes to ensure their financial security

- they dominate conversations, usually lecturing others rather than engaging in dialogue

- they treat family like a job, prioritizing order and structure over emotional connection; they’re not the nurturing type, which make the environment feel dry or lacking affection

- their love and creative life is more about experimenting than connecting emotionally; they want to stand out as different and can be disconnected from emotional aspects

- their daily routines are a disaster and they’re often late, forgetful, or completely checked out; their work ethic is inconsistent and they may overindulge in unhealthy habits, like procrastination or poor diets

- they attract strong-willed partners which often leads to power struggles

- they want harmony but are quick to start a fight if they don’t get their way; their partners may feel confused by the switch from charming to aggressive

- they’re very stubborn and can be slow to make any kind of personal transformation

- their approach to intimacy is sensual and drawn-out, but they’re resistant to any emotional change

- they’re an eternal student, always picking a new subject but never really mastering anything

- may travel often, but more as a form of bragging rights than true adventure

- they’re sensitive to how they’re perceived in their career and can be easily hurt by criticism

- they crave recognition for their compassion but they can also come across as overly emotional or clingy in professional settings

- they can alienate their friends by trying to show off by showboating all the time in social groups, since they’re not good at sharing the spotlight

- they’re secretly very self-critical, always worrying about whether they’re good enough; behind their calm exterior they’re picking apart themselves for every little flaw

- their anxieties may come out in the form of passive-aggressive behavior or nitpicking others in attempt to deflect their own insecurities

Aquarius Rising

- most people find them cool at first, then realize they’re cold as ice and emotional unavailable

- they’re highly unpredictable and refuse to conform to anything, so others find it hard to connect with them

- they often change their appearance or interests without warning, easily getting board with anything mainstream

- inconsistent income is a theme, and they may be confused about where their money went

- they either giving away too much money or floating from one financial mishap to the other

- conversations with then can feel like debates and they’re quick to anger if someone challenges their viewpoints

- when it comes to their personal space they’re not as flexible as they claim to be, they’re borderline possessive; they want stability but are resistant to change

- they’re great at flirting and terrible at commitment, and they often have a half-dozen projects lying around; they love the idea of creation more than follow through

- they let their emotions dictate their routines; one bad mood and their thrown off the entire day

- they create drama in relationships just to feel important; they struggle to balance their desire for independence with their need for validation from their partner

- when it comes to shared resources or intimacy they can be control freaks and micro-manage every detail, demanding perfection from themselves and their partners

- pursue higher education in unconventional philosophies or spiritual practices

- they talk about “justice” and “fairness” but rarely take a stand on anything, using intellectual posturing to mask their lack of depth

- come off secretive and intimidating in their professional life, and can appear ruthless if their reputation or authority is challenged

- they guard their ambitions fiercely and don’t let anyone know their true intentions or how much they crave power

- their social groups seem large and varied, but their connections can feel superficial; they come off as the flaky friend who’s always onto the next big thing

- they’re secretly terrified of failing or losing control, their hidden fear of inadequacy eating away at them

- they pretend everything is fine but behind-the-scenes there’s burnout or self-sabotage

[saioratral]

god - cult activities come to an end (gn! reader) warning - cult activities, fake religion, manipulation, non-con (forced touching/kiss), light self-harm topics and death (please keep yourself safe and do not read if you're uncomfortable!) note - from my old blog

what is the true definition of god? a deity with powers beyond human comprehension. a timeless source of all creations and a presence to which all souls inevitably return. that’s the title given to [name][last name]

from your first words to your first steps, you were destined to be ‘god’. your family craved power leading to them creating a false cult with followers who would kiss the ground you walked on. you were seen as a gifted being, the purest form of life, tucked away from the prying eyes of the potential corrupters of the world 

you hated it. every day felt like a hell of a show. you weren’t given any freedom and were constantly exploited for your family’s selfish acts. your body and soul were trapped behind a simple curtain as your ‘followers’ bowed before your throne, chanting your name fervently. you were adorned by the finest clothes and jewellery, sitting high and mighty listening to the concerns of your ‘followers’ 

you glanced over to your family who proudly stood beside you. no amount of pleading eyes would set you free from the world they created. you locked eyes with your younger brother who sent you a wicked smile. shivering, you turned back to the problems the followers were spinning about. 

“now it’s time for our god’s blessing”

your father announced loudly and the room roared in cheers. praises left and right, you were once again in the spotlight as your followers chanted for you. you shaky reached your kimono and slowly undid it. this was something you hated. greedy eyes watch you pull your kimono down, just enough to expose your left shoulder. you felt disgusted, almost like an object bought for people to stare at. a property of your family with no voice of your own. 

against your will, your mother instructed each of the followers to kiss your left shoulder for a longer life. one by one, their sloppy mouths tainted your shoulder. you closed your eyes and turned your head to the right, wishing and hoping someone could hear your prayers for being freed. you wanted this torture to end. 

and your prayers were answered. the door burst open, revealing none other than yuuta okkotsu, a special-grade sorcerer from jujutsu tech. you’ve heard stories of someone as strong as the gojo satoru. there he stood, not too far from you. your father quickly tugged your arm and pushed you out of the hall. looking back, you see the rest of the family running away in different directions. none daring to reach for you. it was clear—yuuta was here for everyone, yet nobody seemed concerned about you.

drawing his katana and summoning rika, yuuta turned the hall into a bloodbath. one by one, your followers' desperate cries echoed into your ears as you pulled yourself into one of the chambers. you couldn’t even reach the bed before collapsing on the floor. it wouldn’t be long before yuuta managed to remove almost everyone. he cursed himself for letting your family run away from his grasp. now he had to find the ‘god’. he didn’t have to search much

he entered a chamber and saw you lying on the floor. he stood there and examined you. you looked pale, almost like you hadn’t eaten in days. just what type of cult was this? you weakly cranked your head to see the sorcerer stand at the door 

“you’re here to kill me aren’t you?”, you asked 

your eyes were dull almost like you had no energy or will to fight back. the twisted cult made you their prisoner, their so-called ‘deity’. your voice lacked any hint of fear, just mere acceptance of your situation. yuuta’s heart ached, pity written all over his face 

“don’t pity me sorcerer”, you murmured with a dry laugh 

yuuta gripped his sword tighter and stared at you, a person broken and used. he could feel anger rising, you deserved better, not whatever freak show this place ran. he approached you closer and bent down to sit on the ground beside you 

“can i lay my head on your lap? that’s my last request before dying… i've never felt loved or cared for. i just want to be comforted before i die” 

yuuta gulped heavily and swore his heart had stopped for a minute. he had never been asked such an odd request. he complies, pulling you closer to him and gently placing your head, cradling you as if you were made of glass. you felt tears well up in your eyes from his gentle touches, it almost felt like feathers swiping past your face 

“you’re pretty handsome up close”, you remarked, a faint smile touching your lips.

yuuta looked down and blushed at your words. were you always this blunt? no, not really. you always spoke carefully and most of your words would have been rehearsed beforehand by your family. yet here you were, acting like a complete high school girl fawning over her crush 

“you’re not going to let me hear you?”, you whispered

you slowly brought your hand up to touch his face. you couldn’t believe you’d be spending your last few breaths with a stranger who was your so-called ‘enemy’. yuuta didn’t utter a word nor did he deny your touches. he let you express your final desires, contemplating on what to do with you 

“i don’t want to kill you”, yuuta spoke 

“i can save you! just come with me and you can join the juj-” 

you silenced the boy by lifting your head from his lap, capturing his lips in a hungry kiss. desperation coated your thoughts, and your hands roamed over his chest, tracing the shapes of his hidden muscles. yuuta hesitated but then surrendered to the kiss, tasting the salty remnants of your tears. a soft moan escaped him as you gently sucked on his lower lip, seeking deeper contact. entranced by your soft lips, he failed to see the flags his body was alarming

keeping him distracted, your fingers subtly moved towards his katana, pulling it closer. the weapon’s cold steel against your skin contrasted sharply with the heat of the moment. you deepened the kiss, feeling yuuta responding, as if he were drunk. you broke the kiss to catch your breath and you watched yuuta panting hard, almost like you knocked the breath out of his lungs 

“you’re too handsome to spout nonsense you know?” 

this was what you had always craved—a moment of connection, however brief, with someone who could see you as more than just a 'god.' with that you pulled him in for another kiss, poisoned by the adrenaline rush yuuta gave you. no second thoughts, you drew his katana and swung it, a sharp and clean blow on your neck. yuuta opened his eyes in horror, breaking the kiss seeing you dead. yet you looked so satisfied. content that you were finally freed 

“i kissed a curse and now a dead person.. and it had to be a french kiss”, yuuta groaned pulling your still body closer to his chest, lips messed up by your lipstick

© saioratral 2024-25 -- do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission. Any characters used in my work do not belong to me, they are created by their original creator. all images used are from pinterest

[offshore-brinicle]

Thinking about the three characters we've met who had already found and claimed the Golden Bough before the Sinners, Kromer, Dongbaek and now Ahab it's very interesting to me that they all have in common being women leaders of groups where they are seen as messiahs of sorts, much like how Carmen herself who is the origin of The Light was the one who united the original LobCorp team and had such supernatural charisma that she could convince anyone she wanted to join her cause of "saving humanity".

Kromer is the most blantant and cartoonish example, she's worshipped as a messiah and goddess by her followers to the point they consider basking in her grace a priviledge to the point of genuine insanity beyond what any regular person could comprehend, pure religious fanatism for their savior they believe in who will bring them a "pure, untainted" world, so much that they have cast away their individuality in their adoration, inquisitors being indistinguishable from one another.

Ahab who is a more realistic example of this kind of person even if not as infallible as the seemingly perfect Carmen; she's strong, confident, passionate, revered as a hero and makes convincing cases for herself while having the unnatural ability to appeal to people's desires and cut through them, and in her case the way the Pequod Town have come to bend to her isn't unfounded given their situation. I think that's what makes her significantly scarier and more effective as a villain and character in general; she's not just a comically evil woman in a position of power, you can very easily see why some people would fall for her words and bend to her will. She is paradoxically both the savior of the Pequod and the one who doomed them to the hell inside The Pallid Whale, yet after being isolated from society for so long with no other choices or escape and having their sense of self degraded by the Pallidfication the Pequod crew only came to see the first part.

Dongbaek is an interesting case, unlike the two women described before who are undeniably villains and egomaniacal, she's portrayed as much more sympathetic and even an outright tragic figure, however at the same time unlike them we never directly see the relationship she has with her followers. They never talk about Dongbaek herself and not even mention her in any way, only the ideology she gave them: destroy the current order to create an ideal world free from the shackles of The Wings and technological advancement, and unlike the two before who are always aided by their lackeys, Dongbaek was always seen alone, less like a hero or a goddess but more like a ghost that haunted everyone, much like Carmen's role in LobCorp. This "ghost" motif is doubly emphasized by her sickly dying appearance and how she contantly dissapeared and appeared without a trace, never letting those around her forget about all they have lost or sacrificed trapped in her vendetta.

But ultimately Dongrang, herself and even Yi Sang come to admit her motives were just as self-centered and she was just as manipulative, yet rather from a place of hubris it came from a place of deep despair and yearning.

Like Kromer, the TLA believed she would make a better world, but like Ahab, she was ultimately someone taking advantage of people in despair and giving them false hopes, all while deluding herself further, and much like Carmen, she's associated with trees and vegetation, both expressing the wish to be like one and having a disdain for The Wings, though in Dongbaek's case, she only represents half of Carmen's wish; being the plant blooming across the land, while Yi Sang is the one who would reach the sky.

In the end, all three of these women were false saviors, much like how Carmen's idea of bringing salvation to humanity led to all of the suffering within Lobotomy Corporation, the unleashing of chaos upon The City even her own endless torture as The Well giving birth to Abnormalities...it makes me wonder if all of this was intentional, as a way to parallel Carmen herself. Yet all three of them appear to us clearly untrustworthy while Carmen does not.

Kromer, Dongbaek and Ahab are immediately stablished as dangerous presences; Ahab and Kromer being the sources of Ishmael and Sinclair's suffering and tormenters they have to overcome --the source of their nightmares, and Dongbaek is introduced stabbing Yi Sang and being called "dangerous" yet Carmen is introduced as her best self and all the best memories everyone has of her, it isn't until Ruina, away from Ayin's perspective that she's questioned, it makes me wonder if they will continue to bring these characters contrasting Carmen in further chapters.

[early2000smovieimagines]

Meeting and Dating Edward Dalton

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(human s/o)

- There’s a stretch of land outside of town that hasn’t been touched in ages. It's the discarded remains of a once busy urban neighborhood. A place that's been torn apart and left in shambles after a series of events that you weren’t around to witness. There’s a layer of dust on everything you haven’t bothered moving, like a poorly kept museum of all things mundane. It's the evidence of hundreds of peoples lives that you really don’t have the heart to rifle through; not unless absolutely necessary.

- You don’t know its story, but you’ve come to call it home. It’s the safest place you’ve found in a considerably long time: a lot of sun and not a lot of shade. You have a running hypothesis that someone, somewhere decided that turning the area into something more sustainable; particularly for the new world order of night-dwelling monsters, simply wasn't worth the effort. It's a decision that's left even it's darkest spaces uninhabited; the only signs of life being the occasional passing car.

- Though you're not as jumpy as you used to be; lured into a false sense of security by the continual absence of dangerous company, you still find yourself feeling like a deer in the middle of an empty forest. You freeze at every little sound, watch for any hint of danger, bolt at any suspicion of company.

- You wonder if Edward makes the same connection when the two of you meet for the first time. You wonder if he feels like the opposite: feels like a prowling wolf when he stands in the shadows, watching the sun glint off of your hair from his place in the absence of it. You wonder how many deer's have seen the same glowing pin pricks in the middle of the darkness surrounding them. You wonder how many of them knew that the flickering lights meant death.

- A part of you doesn’t believe it when you see the amber shine of his eyes, maybe because you really don’t want to believe it: don’t want to believe that you’re going to have to leave, to find another home after all of this time. Your stomach drops and you hope that there’s some explainable reason as to why you’re seeing those two little lights: like when you envision a body out of random clothes and furniture in the darkness of your bedroom.

- But there’s no explanation, none besides the obvious, and you’re forced to stand frozen in place as you wait for them to make a move, knowing that the two of you are equally trapped, one in the sunlight and the other in the shade.

“You’re human.” He says in surprise, glowing eyes moving as he tilts his head in the darkness, trying to look at you closer without risking a potential burn from the sun which separates you. You stagger further away, further into the heat of the light behind you, and he assures you that it’s okay, that he’s not going to hurt you. You don’t believe him.

“What are you doing here?” You question, eyes flickering around the room for a potential weapon. You’re safe for the time being, but that won’t last forever.

“I used to work around here when I was younger. The grocery store down the road, I stocked the shelves in high school,” He starts to explain, pausing to look for a sign of recognition in your eyes. You keep your expression guarded and he continues. “I remembered it the other day. I wanted to see what happened to it, that’s all.”

“In the daytime?”

“The only time I have off.” He replies lightheartedly. You don’t offer a smile.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to come here and scare you. I didn’t think I was gonna find anyone. Everyone thinks this place is abandoned.” He tries reassuring you.

“That’s kind of the point.” You reply curtly.

“Yeah, but….” His words trails off.

“But?” You prod warily.

“Well, they’re tearing it down,” He answers. “Everyone’s been talking about it, it’s part of why I came down here. They’re gonna salvage what they can and build around it. Block out the sun.”

“You’re not, you’re not gonna be safe here for very much longer. I’m actually surprised that no one’s found you yet. With all of the planning that’s been going on, there’s had to have been dozens of people coming down here and scoping everything out. How long have you been here?” He questions, though you can't bring yourself to answer him, still trying to process what he's just revealed to you.

- You'd seen it coming of course, anyone with half a brain would have seen it coming. But that was when you'd first discovered the area: when you were still hiding away from every shadow and tensing at every sudden noise. If it was going to happen, then it would have happened already: you'd told yourself. And over time, you'd actually begun to believe it. You'd convinced yourself that the rest of the world had forgotten about the deserted town, the same way they'd forgotten about you....

- The thought of dozens of vampires stumbling through the place you'd begun to call your home made you sick. The thought of them crawling through the streets and the corridors of different buildings, of their fingerprints dusting over your own on all of the same railings and door handles, of them just barely missing you....

"You should come with me." The man interrupts your inner breakdown. The idea is almost enough to make you laugh but instead, you simply look at him like he's crazy.

"I-I know you have no reason to trust me, but there's gonna be a lot more vampires coming down here. I mean, maybe not today or tomorrow, but soon. And there's nothing left around here, everything's been torn down, it's ...taken over. ...I have a spare bedroom at my place-" He rambles, urging you to listen to him, to agree to come home with him.

"Do you really expect me to take you up on that offer?" You interrupt, asking the question incredulously. He flounders for something to say, very obviously knowing that you wouldn't agree yet still hoping that you would.

"No," He finally comes up with. "But you should."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not like them."

- His efforts in convincing you to leave with him are about as successful as one could imagine. You adamantly refuse, blatantly dodging his questions and attempts to wrangle information out of you: information about what you'll do and where you'll go once the rest of his kind start to invade. He ultimately leaves you alone, though not before giving you his home address. And in the days that follow, you're forced to admit that Edward was telling the truth.

- Vampires do start to invade, and though none of them ever come as close as he did, you know that you're running out of time. You have to make your escape and you have to make it fast, make it before anyone else can discover that you're there. So with little other choice, you find yourself sneaking into your supposed allies quiet little suburb....

- He answers the door with a hint of confusion, probably because there's no one on the other side of it, at least no one that he can see. You're hiding a little ways away, your mind telling you not to reveal yourself until you're sure that he's alone; not to mention whether or not you're sure that you've arrived at the right house. He looks awestruck when you finally emerge, stilling at the sight of you before he quickly ushers you inside, looking around to ensure that no ones watching as you hesitantly step past him and through his front door.

- You're sure that your discomfort is obvious, and though he tries to hide it, Edward seems equally as uncomfortable in your presence as you are in his. It feels as though he didn't think he'd get this far, and now that he has, he's unsure of what to do next. He settles for showing you around, jumping from thing to thing as you slowly trail after him, watching as he demonstrates how to turn on the shower, and the coffee maker, and the security system, and so on.

"I uh, I drink pigs blood." He explains when the two of you reach his kitchen. He awkwardly glances from you to the bottles stacked in his fridge, seemingly hemming and hawing over how much of the shelves he should show you, worrying that he'll make you even more wary of your newfound predicament. "All animal product ...so you uh, you don't have to worry."

- He tells you to let him know if there's anything you need or will be needing in the future while he shows you to your room. He flicks the lights on and continues his tour. The room is neater than the rest of the house, lacking the stacked books and boxes of documents that seem to reside along the molding of every other wall in the house. It's simple and barren, almost sterile looking; especially in comparison to the very lived-in apartments that you'd grown used to residing in ever since humans went into hiding.

- It's surprisingly easy to get used to living with Edward. When you'd first arrived, you'd spent a week or so walking on eggshells; feeling like a nervous cat being taken home from the shelter. But it's hard to be afraid of a man who seems equally as afraid of you. It's also hard to be afraid of a man who rambles awkwardly about period products, and whether or not it's okay that he got chunky peanut butter instead of smooth because that's "all they had at the store". Not to mention, a man who's hit his head; and limbs, multiple times after being startled by your sudden arrival.

- Edward grows on you. And, judging from his recently longstanding lack of injuries, you've seemed to grow on him as well.

- You grow on him so much, in fact, that it starts to make him nervous. There’s a feeling that bubbles in his chest whenever you smile at him. It surfaces when you let him touch you, let him feel your pulse lingering beneath his fingers when he puts a hand on your shoulder or clasps your necklace. It claws at him when you stop to fix his hair in the evening before he leaves for work, or when you hand him the papers he forgot at the table. He realizes, with a feeling akin to realizing that you're at the edge of a cliff, that he's begun to fall in love with you. And thus, his inner conflict begins....

- Edward finds it far too easy to forget you're not together. His mind wanders when he's away from you, when his skin still tingles from the feeling of your touch. When you leave the room and the warmth of your body still lingers on whatever you'd been laying on. When you borrow his coat and give it back to him heated and laced with perfume. When he returns home and finds you waiting for him, his unpleasant thoughts interrupted by the sight of your face. For a few blissful moments, he allows himself to pretend that you're his: that you love him back and that you never plan on leaving, that you're not by his side purely out of personal convenience.

- He finds himself wanting to indulge you because in doing so, he indulges himself. He takes pleasure in making you happy, in knowing that he's, in some way, responsible for making you feel that way. It feels so ...domestic being able to take care of you, a bit like he's your husband. It's a fantasy that's broken when you happen to come across another human during one of your carefully planned outings.

- He watches you stare at each other from his place in the shadows. Watches you hurriedly introduce yourselves, shock, excitement, and relief flooding across both of your features. It's a sobering sight, a quick and harsh reminder that he has no “power over you”. That, no matter how much effort he puts into making you happy or how desperately he wants you to care about him, there's still nothing tying you to him. He wonders if he’d even be a thought in your head if that stranger asked you to go with them. 

- He weighs his options before he slowly steps out into the open. The sound of his footsteps drawing the attention away from you and onto him. He watches the panic rise, watches the stranger make a move to run, grabbing your arm and attempting to pull you with them; to pull you away from him. The sight makes his stomach churn, a feeling that's only partially relieved when you plant your feet and refuse to move.

- There's a hint of betrayal that crosses their features when you try to explain the situation. When the realization dawns on them; when it becomes obvious that the two of you are together, they drop your arm as though they've been burned. They don't listen as you try to reason with them, they merely back away and hurriedly leave.

"Lets go." You tell him when they're finally gone, your voice and expression giving him nothing to work with when trying to gauge how you're feeling. He apologizes for scaring them away while the two of you drive home in silence. 'It's probably for the best': you tell him and he swallows at the sound of it, wondering what you mean.

- Edward is selfless when it comes to you, but he finds himself wanting to be selfish. He wants to beg you to consider him: to consider how perfect things could be if you just gave him a chance. He knows he could make you happy: could make you want to stay forever.

- But he can't bring himself to pressure you. So instead, he settles for something smaller. Settles for biting his tongue when he finds himself thinking you'd be better off somewhere else. Settles or hesitating to respond when you mention other humans. Settles for halfheartedly advising against it whenever you ask to go searching for something or someone or somewhere. To deny you is one thing, to procrastinate and refuse to instigate is another. Isn't it?

"Maybe we should start looking for more people downtown," You suggest one night. The words make his throat feel tight and though he has a million questions racing through his mind, he remains silent and waits for you to speak again. When you do, it's with a joking tone. "I'm sure you'd like to get me out of your hair at ...some point."

"I like having you here." He says after a heavy swallow. It sucks all of the lightheartedness out of the room: far too earnest and full of restrained emotion. The moment of silence which follows feels tense, almost suffocating. He interrupts it with an almost melancholic goodnight, leaving you to overthink things all on your own for the rest of the "night".

- The house feels different after that, different in a way you can't quite place. It reminds you of when you first arrived at Edwards home, when he was always either too quiet or too talkative: watching you silently or rambling nervously in an attempt to fill the silence.

- The night he cooks you dinner is a night where he's chosen to be silent. He seems hyper focused on the meal he's preparing: deep in thought as though there's something on his mind other than the task at hand. When he cracks open an expensive bottle of wine, you teasingly ask if you're celebrating something, trying to lighten the tense mood that's seemed to permeate the air as soon as he'd gotten home from work. He gives you a tight-lipped smile and an unconvincing chuckle in response, pouring you a glass with a hand that trembles ever so slightly.

"The time I've spent with you these past few months has meant a lot to me," You've finished half of your plate by the time he's gathered the nerve to finally reveal what's been eating away at him. "And that day when we met the other human, it proved to me how much you have come to mean to me. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want us to stay together. I don't care where: whether it's here or somewhere else. I just want to be with you."

- Your throat feels tight by the time he's finished, choked with emotion as your heart hammers in your chest. His eyes meet yours over the table, shining like candlelight while you give him a shaky smile, trying to collect yourself and all of the nerves that are going haywire at his makeshift confession.

"I don't want to pressure you-" He starts when you struggle to respond.

"-You're not." You hurriedly insist, watching the way he slowly begins to smile after reading the expression on your face.

- You share your first kiss not long after. You hear him come into the room before you see him, feel his hands on your body before you can turn to look. His touch is featherlight as it glides across your skin, lingering gently on your shoulders before he slowly turns you around, stepping just that bit closer before he softly connects your lips. The feel of them is icy, a sharp contrast to the warmth of your own. He exhales harshly as he takes it in, his body shuddering pleasantly at the unfamiliar sensation. His kisses grow needier when you don't pull away, pulling every thought out of your head and making you forget what you'd been doing just moments before.

- You think you'd be okay with forgetting everything as long as he kept kissing you like that....

- Public displays of affection are sort of nonapplicable in your relationship. Since you're human and humans are considered enemies of the state, no one can know that you exist, and even if they did, they cannot know that the two of you are together. Even if you're in front of other humans, it's not wise for you to let them know that the two of you are dating: not knowing how much they'll trust you if they knew, or what kind of danger you could get into it because of it. You are; or the two of you are, for all intents and purposes, a secret.

- Edward marvels at your humanity: the feel of your heartbeat, the heat of your skin. It's been ten years since he was human and he's nearly forgotten the feeling of it, making it hard for him to keep his hands to himself. Oftentimes, his affection is innocent: caressing you and trailing his fingers down your arms and spine, watching your body shiver and react. Even before the two of you were together, he'd struggle to contain himself: wanting so badly to touch you yet knowing it wasn't his place; his hands shaking with needy anticipation every time you were close to him.

- Him pressing his lips to your forehead before connecting his own forehead to the exact same spot, holding you close to him as he savors the moment and the feel of you locked in his arms.

- You probably have a scar from when the two of you first met, and he sometimes likes to press kisses to it or smooth his fingers across the harsh line; absentmindedly trailing a soft caress against the marred skin and reminiscing about your relationship.

- His kisses have a tendency to be chaste yet they still manage to linger. There's a lasting neediness behind his affection, even when the action itself is nothing of the sort. Although, sometimes he loses himself in the moment before having to force himself to pull away, struggling to stay in control as his desires and his impulses take hold of him. You're an addiction he has to grow used to; for your sake and for his own.

- Cuddling up on the couch together.

- He has a habit of falling asleep on the couch so you usually have to poke him awake and urge him into bed with you. You also have to keep a somewhat nocturnal schedule yourself if you want to be able to cuddle with him. He's a busy man so most of the time you spend with each other is spent in bed, having him wrap himself around you from behind and murmur quietly in your ear.

- He usually just calls you by your given name or a casual nickname. He's not a sappy person; especially when it comes to terms of endearment, so the farthest he'll go is calling you sweetheart or affectionately referring to you as his heating pad or something of the sort. That being said: he has shocked you by earnestly calling you "his sun", making you want to cry with how sweet and genuine it sounded falling from his lips.

- Earnest little compliments spoken out of nowhere. You'll be doing nothing special and he'll just randomly interrupt you with a "you're so beautiful"; sometimes before you even realize he was there and/or watching you. The way he says it makes it seem as though it was something he just had to tell you, the level of sincerity in it making your heart skip a beat.

- He can honestly stare at you for ages. You've sort of become like an exotic beauty: the normal colored eyes, squared teeth, skin with more pigment than ashy paleness, etc.

- You also find yourself staring: safely indulging in the foreign beauty of something you're meant to fear. He gets a bit shy under your gaze which only ever seems to make him even more handsome.

- He's the perfect sketching partner to have if you happen to be an artist because he generally stays pretty still regardless of what he's doing; making it relatively easy to doodle away while he's lost in thought or busy with his own work.

- Parallel play. He likes being able to do his work and/or read while you occupy yourself in the same space as him.

- Having him read to you. Your boyfriend has the voice of an angel, and he kind of loves it whenever you curl up next to him and ask him to read aloud, brushing off his attempts to tell you that it's boring science stuff and that you wouldn't be interested in it. You tell him that it's "even better" and that he can bore you to sleep as you nuzzle into him, smiling to yourself as he readjusts himself and starts to speak.

- Him giving you massages. They're kind of just excuses for him to touch you for prolonged periods of time, but that's neither here nor there.

- Dancing around to the radio with him.

- Having dinner together. I feel like he'd enjoy cooking for you and though he's initially embarrassed by the idea of eating in front of you, he slowly starts to get used to it.

- Since normal food is kind of hard to come by, he probably sets up a home garden for vegetables and other edible things; not telling you about the specifics until things start actually growing so that he doesn't get your hopes up. The smile on your face when you realize what he's been doing all [this] time makes all of the trouble and the hard work worth while.

- Getting little lectures on all of his plants. Sitting patiently and listening to him explain all of the different conditions and strains of orchids that there are, and how if they get too much water they get root rot and this and that. He probably gets you potted pants more than flowers because it looks less suspicious for a single man in his "30s" to bring home a succulent rather than an entire bouquet.

- Getting brough home little treats: pastries, chocolates, etc. He always double checks to make sure they don't contain any blood, yet there has been a few incidents that you're forced to laugh off in an attempt to make him feel better and end his mortification.

- Edward is the chief hematologist of a major corporation: the man has mad money and he likes to spoil you however he can. He takes note of all of the things you like and talk about so that he can go out and get them for you.; since you're sort of incapable of leaving the house and buying them for yourself.

- He undoubtedly gets you new clothes to wear once the two of you start living together; or goes on a run with you to help you grab your old belongings, but nothing compares to when you first joined him at his home and had to wear his clothes because you didn't have any of your own. It's seared into his memory and it's very erotic for him. Like, he might have to jump you if you wear his clothes after the fact because now you're his and he can finally act on those impulses; instead of repressing them like he was forced to do before then.

- Personalized jewelry.

- Getting asked by him if he looks okay since he cant see himself in any mirrors or other reflection's. He always stays still and cherishes your little touches as you adjust things for him: smiling at you softly as you brush his hair back or do his tie for him.

- Remembering to lock up his house for him. He's notorious for forgetting to do so and getting his place consistently broken into, but he tries to be better about it now that he has you: not being able to afford the risk of someone walking in and finding you.

- You may or may not have a habit of biting him and he may or may not find it really amusing. I mean it's obviously pretty ironic given the situation, but he also likes how not scared of him you are and the teasing playfulness behind the action. It also might turn him on a little but he's not prepared to delve into those confusing feelings right now so lets not talk about it.

- He thinks it's kind of cute when you try to celebrate his birthday with him: smiling at you fondly as you peck him on the cheek and make jokes about him "looking great for his age". He probably calls you his gift whenever you make comments about not really being able to get him one, pulling you in and kissing you on the temple after blowing out his candles.

- He tries to dissuade you from smoking and drinking, wanting you to be as healthy as possible for as long as possible. He'd probably try to cut back on his own smoking as well, muttering shyly about secondhand smoke whenever you ask him about it.

- There's something so ...human about the way you tell jokes: so much so that he can't help but smile and laugh along with you; even though he's a little rusty when it comes to indulging in comedy. You have to grow used to his sense of humor as well: learn to love the dry delivery of his somewhat stunted attempts at being funny. You might not always realize he's trying to joke with you, but you get better with it over time.

- Edward genuinely can't remember what it's like to be human so he occasionally asks you little open ended questions in your more quieter moments together: questioning how your mind or body works, asking about your fears and emotions, etc. In return, you ask him to tell you about vampirism: listening intently to his words, noticing how they always seem to take a sour turn....

- Edward really yearns to be human so he'd probably try to avoid changing you for as long as possible, perhaps even outright refusing to let you go through with it if you expressed interest. It's an emotional thing for him, something he holds back and represses, yet something you can still see affecting him all of the time: the want to be you even when he's so successful and safe being him. It hurts to see, to feel it in his touches and hear it in his voice: the remorse and the envy and the agony that he tries so hard to conceal. There's a lingering melancholy that resides in some of the moments between the two of you: in the way that he comments on little things or tells you that you should do something; noticing right away that it's a sort of attempt to live vicariously through you.

- Speaking of, he enjoys watching you do things that he can't: basking in the sun, eating real food, drinking plain water, etc. There's a hint of sadness there, but you still indulge him, smiling at and kissing him before going through with it.

- Bringing things out of the sunlight to show to him.

- Secret meeting places and hideouts.

- The two of you mostly go out during the day, cruising in his car and making stops in shaded areas. It keeps the two of you safe from everyone's prying eyes and it's nice to get some fresh air after being stuck in the house all night.

- He always tries to refuse your blood: even when you insist that he drinks it because it's safer than the alternative of him going around without getting his fill; and because he's literally risking his own life when fighting to keep you safe. He still hesitates; even as you make jokes about it being humanely sourced, only following through when you tell him that it'll make you more comfortable. He gets used to it but he never gets entitled, and the puppy dog lovey eyes that he gives you whenever you give him a drink makes any pain that might come from it worthwhile. Frankie bitingly calls you his "bloodbag" when he first notices what must be going on, and it truly enrages Edward every time.

- Comforting him after his fights with Frankie.

- You probably have a couple tense moments with his brother; if he even knows you exist at all. There'd be times where he'd show up at the house unannounced and you'd sit in silence, his eyes trained on you in a somewhat predatory fashion. You'd stay stock still until Edward returned home and sorted things out, feeling the tension between the two of you boil and your stomach tie up in knots, not knowing if he'll turn you just because. He tries to be nice but regardless of his temperament and how much you may or may not arguably like him, you still struggle to fully trust him; especially since Edward doesn't seem to as well.

- Honestly though, there's probably even more tension between the two of them now because Frankie would want Edward to finally understand why he did what he did, viewing your predicament as similar to his own. Someone you love is capable of dying and leaving you all alone, don't you get it Edward? It would piss Frankie off to see him still be so conflicted: to see that he still couldn't understand, that he refused to understand. He hates to hear him say that he's not going to change you: that he didn't want to be turned so why would he force it on you? It's like pouring salt in the wound.

- Hiding away when company comes or somebody threatens to stumble across you, sometimes pressed against one another so tightly that he can hear/feel your heart beating a mile a minute. He sets up a certain place in his house where you're meant to go whenever you think someone's coming over, ensuring that no one finds you and keeping you out of harms way.

- Doing your best to protect him from the sun.

- Reassuring him and trying to help him let go of some of his guilt after he comes home from work. He goes into the office everyday and sees the tortured faces of his test subjects right before coming home and seeing your bright and cheery loveliness. It just makes his work even harder: to think that they were once like you and that you could, at some point, be just like them....

- He probably keeps your picture or a note you've written him in his wallet/on his person at all times. Yet the feeling of it seems to burn against his skin whenever he's feeling guilty: a reminder of what he's involved in; a question of how he can love you yet do that to them....

- Considering the fact that you can't really leave his house, there's not a lot of instances where Edward has the chance to be jealous over you. There might be a few fleeting moments of him getting a little annoyed with his younger brother for asking to touch you or things of the like, but it's anyone's guess as to whether that has to do with actual jealousy or just plain protectiveness. That being said: most of Edwards jealousy is retroactive. You'll mention, or maybe even introduce him to, one of your ex's and though he'll try to be normal about it, he'll find himself gritting his teeth and acting a bit passive aggressive. It's those "oh really" and "I bet he is" sort of statements that give him away.

- Edward protects you with his mind rather than his fists. He protects you by putting himself on the line for you, by keeping you out of harms way, by convincing his brother that he's going to change you when you're closer in age, etc. He's incredibly protective but due to his intelligence and careful planning, you don't get to witness the effects of it all too often.

- The two of you don't argue often, but sometimes you manage to tick him off the same way his younger brother does. He wants to be seen as the man of the house: to be respected and thought of as being in charge. When you don't listen to him or undermine him in some way, you hit a bit of a nerve. He might raise his voice if he gets really annoyed, but most of the time, he just acts a bit mockingly: smirking, and scoffing, and looking away/rolling his eyes. Occasionally, he acts impulsively and regrets it after the fact: immediately feeling bad whenever you get upset and walk away, wanting to say something to you but not knowing what.

- Silent treatments and tense houses are commonplace after arguments. Edward stews in silence when he's angry, he keeps his words short and he grits his teeth. You're dating a man with sass so expect to encounter it. If he misses you enough, he'll cut the standoff short. And, even though he's still annoyed, he'll push past it and try to talk things out.

"Sit down," He'll borderline command, wincing slightly at the way it comes out. " ...please? Lets talk."

- Edward tells you that he loves you a lot; especially during difficult times when he wants to reiterate how much you mean to him. He wants you to know that, even though he's going through some stressful things that might have him acting out of character, he still cares for you very deeply.

- Edward wants to find a way to become human for you. He views vampirism as unsustainable, unfulfilling, sometimes even dangerous. He's not happy being what he is and he wont be happy turning you into one either. Not to mention the fact that he wants a family with you....

[lua-magic]

Eleventh house and magic in your destiny.

Eleventh house is the house of name, fame, gains and secrets.

It is ruled by shadow planets North node and Saturn.

This is the placement to work in telecommunication, broadcasting, hacking, news, media and photography.

Usually people that has strong Aquarius loves photography.

People who have prominent planets in eleventh house are secretive, and don't like to come in lime light.

This house could also give secret diseases, like Venus sitting here could give you STD if afflicted.

People with strong Aquarius placements will think and work for others. Even if they own a business they will build empire so that everyone else is able to enjoy.

Mercury, here can give secret skill or learning that you don't want to share it to the world, for example you would be drawn to learn a subject or topic but you will at the same time keep it hidden from your family and friends.

As it is also the house of names, Mercury sitting here could give you multiple names of people would love to call you with different names or often mispronounce your name.

If you have Venus in Aquarius, then it is advisable that no one should know about the real status of your wealth and journey of your relationship every in life, The less you will post on Social media about your relationship and photos of travelling and luxury, relationships will go fine, Learn to enjoy the luxury rather than showing it to people.

People having above placement could also be secretive about their money matters and won't like to discuss about it.

In males chart this placement is favorable as it will bring you money from your partner or wife, but could give disease to your wife as well.

Venus sitting here could give you beautiful eyes as well which people would admire a lot.

Mars could bring you gains from land related things.

Many real state investors, property dealers and contractors has this placement. It could bring gains from siblings as well.

If Mars is afflicted could give blood related problems or problems due to sibblings.

Jupiter sitting her could help you to network with wise, and intellectual people.

People having this placement usually have intelligent friends circle. It will help you to connect with lot of teachers and counsellors as well.

Saturn here is exhaulted, it will give you gains from multiple works but that comes later in life as Saturn is slow moving planet

Person with this placement will be usually in two to three jobs Or at work minimum.

It is the house of North node, so person will experience multiple desires. Sometimes, these desires will keep him/ her trapped. They will have large friends circle but no will help him/her in crisis.

Person could suffer from false allegations by their own family or friends .

This placement could bring you gains but from illegal ways like scamming, cheating and hacking.

Many hackers and scammers has this placement or you could become prone to cheating or scamming.

South node here, detaches you from gains, friends and family as well.

This combination is often found in many occultist, astrologer, healers and spiritual people.

It is good for someone who wants to earn from spiritual work as it gives spiritual network of people around you. you love to do things that satisfies your soul not just for gains.

Sun sitting here could give hightened ego and desire for name and fame.

It is not good for father as he could suffer, and this combination could get you gains from the government.

Usually, people suffer from identity crisis and doesn't like to come out in public and show their face.

Moon 🌙 here will give you hightened emotions and in some cases if afflicted could give you mental illness.

Person would be financially stable and loves to travel.

You will get gains from mother.

Person with this combination loves to eat and cook really good food.

Aquarius planets will speak rudely but with truth, blunt on the face, and some people might not like it.

[storiesofoblivion]

hello tags! It's been a little while since I've been on here, but I'm ready to dive back into the writing scene and looking for some new writing partners on Discord! ♡ please only interact with me if you are 21 + only, also just a small fyi my activity can be a bit unpredictable depending on life stuff, but I’m always around to chat, plot, and create if I’m not writing!!! 

I’d love to brainstorm some MUMUs (small town, big big city, holiday resort, band, reality tv show, open for the options), but also happy to keep it small with a singular plot! i just want to get into musings, making some fun pinterest boards, playlists etc! i want all the angst, fluff, pain and smut. 

a few plots and tropes which I am begging for and some fcs are below, but i'm open to anything and everything!!! if you're interested, give this a like and i'll reach out or message me! ♡

yearning plot, I just watched the Industry and it gave me the need for a pair who love each other, they completely yearn for each other but they can't be together. if you want your heart to break, listen to the last goodbye by the kills. I have quite a few different thoughts for this, they meet when they're young and they yearn for each other, but life gets in the way and ultimately they don't end up together, they love each other but one of them choses the path which is right for them. We can have them go through the break up and then meet again years across the line where it’s a mix of vulnerability and guardedness as both muses confront their past, knowing that the connection they once had slipped through their fingers. There could be moments of warmth and nostalgia mixed with painful realisations about how much has changed. I just need the angst!!!!

the affair, they’re both trapped in unhappy relationships, finding solace in each other’s arms. But as the passion between them grows, so does the guilt and the looming sense that their affair will only lead to heartbreak—for everyone involved.

trapped in a marriage of convenience, they were never supposed to fall in love. Bound by a loveless marriage for political or financial reasons, one of them has secretly harboured feelings all along. Now, as tension rises and secrets unravel, those buried emotions threaten to tear them both apart.

divorced couple, they are always in each others lives, their is fighting, they can't escape, let's add kids to the mix for the coparenting 

the one who got away, this is slightly different to yearning because this couple aren't the same vibe it's a different font okay. They were madly in love in their early 20s, but life and ambition pulled them in different directions. Years later, they reconnect—both scarred from past relationships. There’s undeniable chemistry, but the fear of repeating history keeps them at a distance. Can they let go of their past mistakes and take a risk on love again, or are they doomed to drift apart once more?

the cost of fame, he’s an up-and-coming actor/musician etc, skyrocketing to fame, while she’s still living an ordinary life. They were high school sweethearts, but as his career takes off, the pressure of his public image and constant media attention start to tear their relationship apart. Will their love survive the world of flashing cameras and false rumours, or will fame turn him into someone she no longer recognises??? where will the angst take us??

fighter plot, after re-watching the creed I need a boxer plot so maybe something like in creed where is fighting his way to the top, but his girl can’t handle the fear of losing him to the sport etc 

a coffee shop meet-cute, or any meet-cute where it can be something like she's the regular at his coffee shop, always rushing in with a complicated order and a smile that lights up the place. He’s the barista who secretly gives her an extra shot of espresso to brighten her day. After months of shy glances and friendly small talk, a chance encounter outside of the café leads to a series of adorable, awkward dates full of laughs, misunderstandings, and the beginning of something real.

a classic holiday fake dating, one of them desperately needs a date for the family’s holiday reunion to avoid endless questions about their love life, so they convinces their co-worker (or best friend) to pretend to be their partner for the week. Cue romantic holiday moments, cute banter, and the unexpected realisation that maybe they’re not just pretending after all.

I just need anything that is enemies to lovers, anything that is friends to lovers, anything that is forbidden lovers, anything that is exes to lovers to exes again, give me the slowburn, just any of these tropes on repeat

i also do have a wanted plots tag which is here - this has not been updated in a while but i will always want these plots! 

some fcs i’ve been wanting to play or have has opposites are below, i'm not limited to them and open to any other options too!!! 

drew starkey

oliver jackson cohen 

paul mescal

harris dickinson 

milo ventimiglia

tom hardy

fabien frankel 

theo james

callum turner

dev patel 

josh o'connor

alexander skarsgard

boyd holbrook 

grace van patten

hannah dodd

phoebe dynevor

adria arjona

bruna marquezine 

aslihan malbora 

alisha boe

pinar deniz

taylor russell

greta onieogou 

lucy boynton

[billiuspendragon]

Hiding Behind a Mask

A character study of Kaido Shun from Saiki K and Oregon Shawcross from Fresh Meat.

Fresh Meat and The Disastrous Life of Saiki K are two very different comedies. Fresh Meat is rooted in reality, dipping in and out of seriousness as it goes, while Saiki K specialises in absurdity and satire. The characters in Fresh Meat change drastically from season to season as the characters find their footing in the world, while the characters in Saiki K are literally trapped in a time-loop, and remain almost in stasis until the very end. Fresh Meat doesn't really have a main character, while Saiki K very much does.

Despite this, the two shows have some similarities. They can both be considered coming of age stories, as both end with the group of main characters coming to an end of an era and wondering what they will do next in life. They both contain characters who hide behind their own egos, desperate to fit in or be seen as cool.

One of Oregon's earliest scenes shows her being caught in a lie. She makes up tales about what she did in her year before university in an attempt to sound more interesting, and later contradicts herself by saying that she wished she's had a year out, in order to relate to the others. Immediately we are shown that Oregon believes identity to be something she can fabricate. She considers herself a blank slate that she can paste a personality onto, and hides everything about herself in an attempt to create something new.

Kaido does much the same thing. In the transition between middle school and high school, he creates an extravagant false identity called "The Jet Black Wings" in an attempt to bury his shy, boring middle school personality. Unfortunately this backfires, his lies are far too ridiculous for anyone to believe, and he is labelled as a social outcast for his eccentricity. Still, we are shown that Kaido, much like Oregon, doesn't know how to be happy in himself. He believes that in order to have friends, he has to turn himself into someone that will impress people.

The characters begin to differ when we examine how they go about living in their false identities. While Kaido is more or less consistent with his Jet Black Wings persona, Oregon changes herself to match each new person she admires, a new identity ready to replace each one she takes off. She begins by imitating Vod, who is the epitome of "cool", parroting everything she says even when she doesn't really agree, and constantly aiming to please her. However, after the two of them become close friends, she soon moves on to something else.

While Kaido sometimes imitates characters from TV shows he likes, or picks up new skills in order to impress people, he always falls back upon the same edgy fantasy that was there from the beginning.

They both present themselves very differently towards their parents than they do towards their friends. At home, Oregon's name is "Melissa". She comes from a privileged background (something that she hides from her friends) and is under a lot of pressure to do well academically. She spins her parents as many lies at the end of the show as she does towards everyone else at the beginning -- she lies about her grades and tells them that she is President of the Student Union (which, to be fair, she was -- before she was impeached), painting herself as the perfect achiever that she so desperately wants to be.

Kaido is also under a lot of academic pressure. While he doesn't outright lie to his mother, he tries to keep his friends from meeting her as he is afraid she won't approve of them, and adopts a meek, polite personality whenever she is around.

It is clear that he is scared of her, and that this fear only pushes him to hide things from her instead of encouraging him to be better in his studies like she wants. It's possible that this is what drives his tendency to lie to his friends as well -- he is held to a much higher standard than he is capable of, and this has taught him that he must simply appear a certain way in order to earn the approval he desires.

Both Kaido and Oregon have a streak of childishness. In Kaido's case this is extremely prominent -- he is referred to as a "chunibyuu" (which roughly translates as "eighth grade syndrome") and is often taken advantage of by bullies who pretend to believe in his fantasies and trick him into giving them his money. Kaido wants to believe that he is special. It only takes someone telling him that he is secretly from some strange and distant planet, or that he's possessed by the spirit of a hero, and he will go along with anything they say.

In Oregon's case, she is manipulated to a much more serious degree when she has an affair with one of her tutors. She, like Kaido, wants to believe that she is special, and better than other people. Dr Shales (who I despise with every inch of my being) appeals to this by telling her that he loves her for her mind, and giving her higher marks than her work really merits. It takes her a while to get out of this relationship, and even after she does he attempts to emotionally manipulate her into sleeping with him countless times, and it becomes more and more apparent that he is an utterly pathetic and disgusting person.

Kaido and Oregon are both rather bad at the things they really, really want to be good at. While Kaido is passionate about his storytelling, his works are often portrayed as cringeworthy, with a childish edginess and pretentiousness. Oregon, while good at many things, is not very good at English Literature, which is her main passion. She is often bitter towards people who are better than her, and is even unable to be happy for her best friend Vod, when she unexpectedly gets a higher mark in the end. At one point she is shown emulating Candice, a younger student who is more knowledgable than her, by copying her dress sense. This reminds us that even while following her passion, Oregon is more focused on appearances than actually... following her passion. She wants to be recognised as someone who is good at English Literature more than she actually enjoys the subject.

Her and Kaido both display some quite selfish behaviours to protect their image over the course of the show. In Kaido's case this is balanced out by the genuine acts of bravery he sometimes does (though Saiki usually has to chip in with his powers to stop Kaido from getting hurt or making a fool out of himself), while Oregon is almost entirely focused on herself. She shows a lack of empathy towards others -- which isn't a problem on its own, only she is never very compassionate either. While Kaido's friends clearly mean the world to him, he also isn't above putting them down occasionally to boost his own ego -- a specific example of this is when he spreads embarrassing rumours about Saiki after they and their friends were trapped on a desert island together.

Mixing fiction with reality is also a theme that comes up for both characters, though in very different ways.

The fact that he lives through his fantasies is a very major part of Kaido's character. They help him to interact with people, giving him "lines" to say when he doesn't know how to talk to people. He is more comfortable bullshitting his way through conversations than he is simply being a person, and uses his imagination to turn the world into something he can control. If nobody else knows what he's talking about, he is automatically in charge of the conversation.

With Oregon, this theme only really comes up once. In season 3 she writes a play based on her and her housemates, though she renames everyone and maintains that they are all original characters. Within the play, "Delphine" (Oregon) is presented as the "good person", while the others are either degraded or turned into villains. When asked, Oregon shows a distinct lack of understanding of what makes "Delphine" a good person in her story. Delphine is a good person because she says "I wish I wasn't such a good person" and because the other characters tell her what a "good person" she is. It's also worth noting that she casts Candice to play the character to is an obvious self-insert.

Oregon believes in her own goodness for the simple fact that that's how she wants to be seen. She still believes that a personality is something you can craft, like an outfit, and doesn't seem to realise that actions are what determines what kind of person you are. Oregon does a lot of bad things during her time at University. Her affair is something I don't like to blame her for considering that she was being manipulated, but she does suggest gaslighting his wife when afraid that the secret will come out. She accidentally injures a man during sex, which results in him being deported. During her time as the Student Union President, she cuts the funding for several very important things (such as the bus for a disabled rugby team) in order to fund a poetry event, then cuts the funding for more things in order to fix her earlier mistakes, only creating more problems and resulting in her being voted out of the job.

However, despite all this, Oregon clings to the idea that she is a good person. If she lies about the things she does, then they don't matter.

I suppose the main difference between Kaido and Oregon is that Kaido's false identity is there to give him the confidence to interact with the world, while Oregon simply doesn't know another way to be.

Moreover, Kaido's character development is subtle, with him slowly chilling out around his friends and becoming able to talk to them normally, while Oregon's seems to happen all at once. She spirals into a worse and worse person over the course of the show, until it all collapses at the last minute. Her parents find out that she doesn't really have top grades, and that she isn't really President of the Student Union anymore, and that everyone apart from her close friends hates her guts.

With her not getting the grades she needs, Oregon's plan for the future collapses, and she loses her parents' approval. In the end, her friend Vod tells her she should try writing a novel despite failing to get into a creative writing course, and the two decide to travel abroad together.

This brings me to the last point of similarity between Kaido and Oregon: their best friends.

Kaido becomes friends with Kuboyasu Aren, a reformed punk, soon after Aren's transfer into PK Academy. Determined to leave his thug life behind, Aren sometimes finds it difficult to keep his violent instincts at bay. He is clearly someone Kaido looks up to and admires, and the two of them have a very strong friendship.

While Vod was never a gangster, she has had a tougher upbringing than Oregon. Her cool, "don't give a fuck" demeanour is something Oregon first tries to emulate, then begins to resent, and eventually grows to accept. She's someone who doesn't really abide by the law, and owns a grenade as one of her childhood treasures.

Both Aren and Vod have grown up with an abusive parent, though in Vod's case this is a very serious plot point, while Aren only casually mentions his dad beating him to "toughen him up". They even both decide to become teachers, though Vod makes sure to specify that she wants to be a "cool teacher".

Of course, Kaido's friendship with Aren is different from Oregon's with Vod. Kaido and Aren never seem to fall out despite their differences, while Vod and Oregon very much do. Oregon's self-absorption is something that genuinely affects her connections with other people, as she acknowledges other people's faults but not her own. She mistakenly believes that Vod is less intelligent than her, and judges her for being callous with other people's feelings -- which is ironic, since Oregon herself displays the same flaw. However the two always come back to each other despite their ups and downs, and care about each other more than anyone else. While Kaido's eccentricities make it difficult for him to make friends, he seems to have no problem keeping them once they are formed, since the people who are drawn to him are naturally those who can put up with his antics.

Oregon and Kaido are both characters who are afraid of being themselves. They both lie, creating new names for themselves as they transition to high school/university. They are both hiding things from their parents. They also both invoke an intense feeling of second-hand embarrassment as they are unaware that they do not come across as cool as they think they do. However, despite Kaido's patheticness and Oregon's frankly awful personality, or perhaps because of these reasons, these are some of my favourite characters in their respective shows.

Below I've included a behind the scenes clip of Oregon running for president to give you an idea of her character, as well as my favourite Kaido AMV in the unlikely chance that somebody will read this who hasn't seen The Disastrous Life of Saiki K.

I hope you enjoyed this very long post about these two unrelated characters! Now if I can just do the same thing for Hamlet and King Lear that would be great...

[nose-nippin-fun]

Hazbin Hotel Episode 4 Discussion:

I’ve seen a lot of nasty posts floating around today criticizing Vivzie and the show. I’m not here to discredit your feelings, but I think that the darker tone of episode 4 merits some constructive discussion beyond a knee-jerk, pearl-clutching reaction.

From what I’ve seen, the biggest complaint from viewers, myself included, is that this emotional episode with some fairly intense depictions of SA/r*pe was not prefaced with a content warning aside from the usual small text in the top left corner. I truly do believe Amazon should correct this going forward so that viewers can feel better prepared for tone shifts between episodes. That being said, here are my defenses of the show.

Hazbin Hotel has had a huge fan following since the pilot release back in 2019, which set the tone of the show. Between the pilot and Addict music video, people had a pretty clear indication of the adult themes that would be present in the project moving forward. The show is set in Hell, the place where the world’s worst sinners are trapped in the afterlife. This is not an excuse, this is an explanation. There are going to be several characters with tainted morality, some of whom are irredeemable. That’s why they’re in Hell. This show is not meant to glorify sins, but to shine a light on flawed, relatable characters who will grapple with ethics and other struggles and come out changed in the end.

“I can’t believe Angel doesn’t leave his situation and stays stagnant.” Have you ever lived through/witnessed abuse? It is never this easy to sever ties with an abuser. They position themselves in power to control and manipulate, and many times, it’s not physically safe to get away from them. Also, this has been ONE EPISODE, you cannot expect a character with deep trauma to be totally different after a 20-30 minute episode. Angel’s character arc will take time, but his interaction with Husk at the end is an important first step in that direction.

“So Angel is supposed to just get over his trauma because he and Husk sang a song about it?” No. If that was your takeaway, I’m truly sorry you missed the point. Husk is the only person who’s been raw and blunt with Angel (on screen) about dropping the Angel Dust persona and being Anthony. Angel is used to having to put on a flawless, sexy act at all times, so much so that that’s how people really believe he is at all times. Husk sees through this mask Angel developed to protect himself and tell him through their song that imperfect and broken as he feels, Angel isn’t alone in struggling with feelings of powerlessness and addiction. He’s not comparing his loss of overlord status to Angel’s horrible SA, he’s finding common ground and empathizing (the best way a Hellbound soul can). This song wasn’t a solution, it was a gateway to vulnerability and the beginning of change for both characters.

“We’re expected to just ship Huskerdust after Angel has done nothing but sexually harass and push Husk’s boundaries?” No. That’s absolutely the wrong reason to ship anything. While it’s true that in the first three episodes, Angel sees Husk as eye candy who might be able to distract him from his suffering, episode 4 brings a necessary shift in their dynamic. Angel is used to everyone around him wanting Angel Dust, the pornstar. But for the first time, someone doesn’t want that coveted persona, and he can’t comprehend this. Angel has no control over anything except the act he keeps up, so he clings to it as a false sense of power. It’s only after Husk tells him that he likes Angel for everything he is off camera that Angel starts to treat Husk with respect, which will pave the way for any future Huskerdust shipping.

You don’t have to agree with what I’ve written, and I absolutely don’t blame you if you’ve realized this show is not content you can comfortably consume, but please understand that depicting difficult material is not the same as glorifying or excusing it. This episode was hard for me too, because I care about Angel Dust, and I am so eager to watch his growth as the show continues. My heart goes out to anyone struggling from triggering this episode caused. I hope you’re able to safely navigate away from this show while respecting the viewers who continue to watch.

[ninelivesastrology]

tw: domestic abuse, false imprisonment

I think it's so Rohini to live in a bubble like a baby in a crib and then Mrigashira holds the theme escaping that bubble. In that way, I can relate to Disney's Rapunzel even though I've never seen it. Maybe I'll watch it with my child today. All I've ever experienced across my relationships is some degree of what is best described as "entrapment" along with isolation. It really frames Rohini being the "Moon's Favorite" in a different light to me. It makes me think of false imprisonment which is what I experienced.

That's why I use certain harsh terms when it comes to my abuser, I'm not even joking. It sounds so OD, but it's not... This man saw me as nothing but a punching bag and sexual object and would act like a territorial dog when it came to other men when we weren't together, but of course, was excessively uninterested in who I was as a person unless he could absorb those aspects like Cell from Dragon Ball Z and use it to attract other women. Deadass. I was used like a fucking shop in an JRPG, like just to accessorize someone else and level them up. Oh, here's your Firaga materia!

And then, the thing with Rohini is that other women will be very envious towards this toxic favoritism. Things are not as they appear. But they desire the obsession because that's what they think love is. And I can think back on times where I believed there was no way out and all my escape plans are drastic.

This one time, I was scoping out my abuser's balcony for two weeks straight to see if I could jump off it and injure myself badly enough just so I could go to the hospital so they could help me leave. I'm so serious. And I should've did it. I should've. One of his neighbors would've seen me for sure. How Mrigashira of me.

Being shut off from the world, sheltered, experiencing jealousy and excuses from my partners for wanting to... live life like everyone else. Ugh. Being single just does something to my vagus nerve. Hard reset.

It's kind of hard to describe how you can be held captive by someone whose behavior and actions affect you, but they may not be actively trying to trap you. And that's the result because they have more power in the situation. Like a good example is not being able to leave a relationship because your partner takes care of the money and he'll see it. Maybe it is intentional. Doesn't matter because it's the same result. Same goddamn trauma.

I experienced false imprisonment in other types of relationships, too. I can't describe the feeling of being afraid to leave a friendship because that person will just lose it because they're in over their head obsessed with you. Or start friendships. I'm too vigilant. Need to focus on myself and pick apart the patterns of my friendships.

I've lamented about this a lot, but save for a few people, I've never had anybody like not treat me like an object designed to sit in their home. And I REALLY related to those tiktoks where they were using the Toy Story sound, "Oh, I forgot... you're broken... I don't wanna play with you anymore," shit had me sick because they break you. Instead of throwing me in the garbage, they trap me in the fucking bin. God.

[foxyarchive]

Glass in the Ocean[P1]

After your grandfather's unexpected death, you find yourself temporarily living with your grandmother until she can find someone else to help her run her shop.

You, and everyone else, have always been taught not to trust mers. Even with this information, you find yourself drawing closer to three mers who have kept themselves hidden from the local populace for years, now. The closer you grow to them, the more you begin to learn about them, and the more the truth begins to unravel.

Was originally supposed to be just some steamy fun times with the boys but I got carried away so there's plot now so it may move a bit fast :,) Hoping for weekly updates!

Cross Posted on AO3!

Warnings: Mention of family death, almost drowning(not really though)

Words: ~5.2k

Tags in the comments! Ask to be added to the taglist!

P1 | P2 | P3

The ocean had always been a force of nature you were afraid of testing your luck with. Tumultuous tornadoes or shrieking storms? Terrifying, sure, but nothing that really got the hair standing on the back of your neck quite like the thought of being lost to the yawning expanse of the sea. There was still so much that was unknown about it, after all. Not only that, but waters were extremely dangerous when filled with such a variety of life; Intelligent, too. 

Sharks were an issue to those who couldn’t keep to themselves. After all, they preferred to stay in their own waters, away from beaches where pesky people invading their space roamed and swam. Jellyfish could be terrifying in their own right, too, along with any seals that happened to be swimming too close and feeling a little too irate at those in the waters. All of those animals had one thing in common, though: Intelligence. Although the creatures held enough intelligence to make decisions of their own(and most were much smarter than humans assumed), most of them acted on instinct. They didn’t purposefully go out of their way to ruin your day, unless something spooked them enough to. Perhaps they were feeling a bit peckish as well– It’s only natural. 

No, the ones who purposefully sought a chance to absolutely fuck over your entire life were the mers. Cruel, intelligent creatures that loved to see nothing more than the suffering of landwalkers. They would pretend to play nice with you, inviting you in with the allure of wanting to learn more about yourself or the world beyond sea; Those that could speak the common coast tongue, at least. It was rare to find a mer who could actually speak any coast tongue, besides a couple of keywords; Namely, those were something like, ‘Help!’, or, ‘Save me!’. Another luring tactic, besides their ethereal looks. Mers were beautiful creatures in the eyes of many. Flawless skin with long, sleek, shimmering tails. It could be easy enough to trick humans into coming closer, and those allured enough fell right into their trap. 

Most mers only had their claws, inhuman strength, swim speed, and fangs, though. Thank God for that, as the very rare, known as ‘sirens’, had the ability to actually put some under a spell. Well, scientifically, it wasn’t actually, technically a spell. It wasn’t quite magic, after all, but the song apparently made chemicals in your brain flood enough dopamine to lure you towards the sensation. A heady, hazy mixture of lust and a false sense of security. Any sirens that were caught out were usually killed on sight. Not all mers were immediately killed, after all. Despite the fear humans had of them, and the staunch irritation, there was a certain balance to the ecosystem to be had… And certain prices to pay for killing a member of a pod. 

All in all, everyone was taught not to trust mers. You weren’t excluded from this, but you never found yourself taking all of these warnings too seriously just because you had no desire to go swimming in the ocean. Any beaches made specifically for human points to swim in were always well guarded by eco-disruptors, and even the occasional patrol boat set with a spear. Anything else beyond that, though? It was a risk to swim, especially alone. Luckily, some areas were less densely populated with mers, which made them booming vacation spots. 

You happened to be visiting one of those areas, but not for vacation. It was a more somber occasion, unfortunately, which would be followed by some work. Your grandfather had just unexpectedly passed away, and you were going to attend the funeral. Thankfully, your job allowed you to work from just about anywhere that had internet. Your grandparents had owned a small shop together after they retired to the coastside; A cute little building with beautiful glass blown and shaped figurines on the boardwalk. It had been something your grandmother loved doing, and you knew that closing it was the last thing she wanted to do. However, you knew she couldn’t keep it open herself. So, then, you decided that you’d help her out for a while until she found somebody who could work with her. 

You weren’t an expert in glass blowing or shaping, by any means, but you’d done it a few times before with her. She was going to take on the brunt of the molding, and you knew you’d only really would need to help with holding and blowing when necessary. It was something you could do between your actual job, so why not? 

It had been a long time since you’d visited the coast; At least, right up on the edge. Your grandmother had her own little house right along the coast, as did many others around here. Something your grandfather had managed to snag years ago, when you could practically buy homes with bubble gum and paperclips. The home was well maintained enough, even if it could use a fresh coat of paint and some reinforcing in parts of it(namely the balcony, some of the wood sagged just a bit too much). If you were handy at all, you’d probably offer to take it on as a side project when you weren’t doing glass blowing or your actual work, but you didn’t trust yourself in the slightest. 

The service was early in the morning. You had driven in the night before, shacking up with your grandmother in the spare bedroom, which you’d come to call home for at least the next week or so. Probably longer. After the service, there had been the reception, which left you rather stuffed full of food, tired of mingling with family you hadn’t seen for a long time, and just tired in general. Getting here had taken a lot out of you, and it wasn’t every day you were so social. It was nice to see some family members you hadn’t seen in awhile, and swapped cherished memories of your grandfather. By the time it was all over, though, you were exhausted. Your grandmother was still out, and your immediate family had invited you to come peruse the town with them, but you declined, too tired. Instead, you headed back to your temporary home to take a nap so you could have dinner with them later in the evening. 

Eyeing the bed as you undressed from your funeral wear, a sudden idea crossed your mind. Peering out of the window, you took in the warm, inviting sky. Blue with fluffy, wispy clouds, you decided on a whim that you would do something you hadn’t done in a long time: You’d go sunbathing. This place was free of mers, after all. The beach was totally safe– Maybe except for some crabs and birds, but you doubted anything was going to come pinching or nipping at you. Decidedly, you put on your swimwear, grabbing a towel and large brimmed sunhat. After lotioning, you put on some flipflops, walking down the small pathway carved into the cliff, down to the beach right outside of the house. It was a quick walk, even if a little unsteady due to the uneven nature of the stone’s cutting, but it was worth the price to have easy access to the beach. 

You walked a little ways from the staircase, opting for some privacy should anyone return to the house early. Last thing you wanted was some annoying cousins throwing bits of plants or rocks down on you if you were right by the staircase. There was a decent sized overhang a good distance from the stairs, forming an alcove, and although you didn’t move to lay under it(you were trying to sunbathe, after all), it offered you some sense of security for whatever reason. Maybe due in part to it technically being ‘shelter’. You rolled out your towel with a flourish, putting your flipflops aside as you settled down with a sigh. The ocean was still a good fifteen feet from you, and you doubted the tide was going to be rising up anytime soon. 

Already beginning to feel more sleepy due to the sun’s rays beaming down, you decided now was as good of a time as ever to finally get some rest. Laying back, you popped your earbuds in, flicking on a playlist. After turning it down reasonably enough, you took a moment to admire the gleaming beast in front of you. It stretched out far beyond your vision, sparkles shimmering atop the vast deep blue. The waves were gentle, foam softly curling up onto the beach, free of any clutter or weeds. A serene smile pulled onto your lips, and for a moment, you thought about possibly swimming later. It was something you rarely ever did, ocean or not, so… Why not do it now that you’ll be local for a bit?

That was definitely later, though. Right now? It was nap time. You laid back, placing the sunhat over your face so the sun wasn’t glaring right onto your closed eyelids. You just hoped there wouldn’t be a significant difference in tan from your face on the rest of your body. Any worries about that quickly vanished as you dozed off, lulled by the sound of your music, encompassing heat, and the faint sound of waves rolling in the distance. 

—

You weren’t entirely certain how long you’d been sleeping for. You didn’t wake naturally, either. The reason you had begun to stir was because you felt droplets on your legs. The comparing cold drew you from your slumber as it continued, making you grumble and shift. It stopped, briefly, and you just assumed that there had been some spray carried by the wind. As you began to drift off one more, it happened again. It felt a little more prominent this time; The drops were fatter, and definitely more annoying. Then, there was more, and it managed to spray across your stomach as well. 

That’s when you finally sighed out, deciding that the wind was not on your side. Grumbling, you spread your arms, back arching in tandem in one long, delicious stretch. A moan of appreciation left your lips, and you found the stretch was so good that you were briefly left winded afterwards. Opening your eyes, you peered up at the sun, grimacing as you held a hand up to shield your vision from it. Wait. Weren’t you wearing your sunhat? Did the wind sweep it away? You took a moment to rub your eyes with the heels of your palms, before sitting up, scanning the area when your vision cleared. 

There were two concerning things, immediately. The first was that you did see your hat, beginning to be pulled along further and further out to sea. The second, much more concerning thing, though, was the creature that was partially washed up on the beach. 

“Oh, f-fuck!” You scrambled, hastily, to your feet. Or, well, you tried to. Your ankles had gotten caught up, tangled in your towel, causing you to just plop right back on your ass in the sand. The mer partially lounging let out something that you were certain was a laugh, and you weren’t sure whether to be cross or terrified. A mix of both, perhaps, as your eyes landed back on it. It– He, you were certain– Was partially out of the water, looking quite lazy. Well, if at least one thing was true about mers, it was their beauty. 

You were certain this was the most attractive creature you’d ever laid eyes on. He was lean and muscled, skin lightly sunkissed in a sense where he had a faint tan, but still didn’t seem quite as tan as you’d heard other frequently breaching mers were. His jaw was sharp, and so were his cheekbones, and he had this roguish, very handsome smirk on his face as his eyes met with yours. They were a beautiful, alluring umber, adding to the gorgeously tousled mop of hair atop his head that was a slightly lighter shade. Although all of that was most certainly attractive… You found your eyes trailing downward, taking in the sight of his tail. 

Long and slick, you couldn’t see all of it, as half of it was still submerged in the water. What you did catch, though, was that his scales were a glossy navy blue with a pretty pattern of blue yonder interrupting them. It was then you noticed he had some scales on his ribs, as well as on his hands and cheeks. It didn’t make him look any less unattractive, though, and was it weird that you kept referring to him as attractive? Probably. He was a mer, but damned if he wasn’t hot. You didn’t even notice that his lips were moving until you spied the faint activity out of the corner of your eye. You couldn’t hear him, earbuds still softly playing music. 

“What?” You asked after you popped them out, trying to clear the haze from your mind that you convinced yourself was definitely shock and not anything else. He looked amused, lips curling up further, revealing a set of slightly sharpened teeth. 

“I said, if you take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Oh, God, he’d totally caught you ogling. He didn’t seem to mind, though; In fact, he was practically preening under the attention as he turned onto his back, stretching out his lithe form. His tail curled up from the water, briefly, and you caught sight of the beautiful fin at the end; Long and elegant, but still webbed and strong enough to where you were sure he was a formidable swimmer like his kin. “I can pose, if you’d like.” He turned his head to the side, accentuating his delicious jawbone, and you noticed now his ears were a bit pointed at the end, scaled as well. Your cheeks immediately heated up, and you found yourself stammering, trying to assure him that, no, you weren’t going to take any pictures and you totally didn’t feel super attracted to a mer. 

Before any of that came to your lips, though, a sudden realization hit you: He was talking to you. 

“Y… You speak coast tongue?” You asked, a little astounded. That was so rare for mers, especially in areas where so few of them resided. Apparently, there had been less than five spotted here in the past six years, which meant that there were none. And yet, you happened to find one on your first day here, and he spoke your language? What were the odds?

“No.” He replied, rolling onto his stomach. You noticed a small fin on his lower back that shivered a bit under the ocean’s breeze. He rested his head on his arm, drawing a pattern in the sand with slightly webbed hands as his eyes took you in. He looked like a big, lazy, content cat. Not a care in the world. There was another flash of merriment in his eyes as he noticed your confused expression, before he gave another soft laugh as you realized he was fucking with you. They really were intelligent beings…

“That’s your hat out there. Right?” He asked, pushing himself up with an elbow, jerking his head in the direction of your floating clothing article. Stupefied, you blinked, merely giving a nod of your head. You didn’t trust your words. Was this a dream? “I can get it for you. If you’d like.” You didn’t know how to respond. All you knew was one thing that kept creeping up in the back of your head: Never trust a mer. This was literally all the signs of a mer trying to garner your attention and lure you in, from what you recalled. Looking alluring. Playing nice. Asking questions. This was the biggest red flag if you’d ever seen one. 

Clearly, he could read the hesitation on your face, and he let out something between a scoff and a laugh. “I don’t have to. I was just offering. Is it so wrong to want to be nice?” Your gaze hardened a bit, and you brought your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. He was still a good fifteen feet away from you. Even if he tried to advance on you, you were certain that being able to run was in your books faster than he could drag himself ashore to you. Well… Mers did have inhuman strength, so… Maybe that wasn’t quite out of the books. 

“Okay. Go get it.” You finally agree, suspicion still heavy in your gaze as you take in his facial features. He looked a bit smug, before rolling over once, and then slid back into the water. Once he was settled in it, he was gone with a whisper, and all was quiet once more. Your gaze found your hat, much further now than it was before. Nothing was happening… Nothing until you blinked, and it was gone. You looked around for any sight of the mer, spotting nothing until you saw the faint glimmer beneath the waves. He broke water as quiet as a mouse compared to the rolling of waves in the distance and on shore, your now sodden sunhat in his hand. You frowned a bit at the sight. “You had to drag it underwater?”

He seemed wholly unimpressed with your comment, frowning himself, a faint look of irritation crossing his features. “You’re welcome.” Is what he replies with, scoffing as he holds it out in front of him whilst he pulls himself back onto the shore. The perturbed look on his face is quickly replaced with another grin as he spies your hesitation. “...If you want your hat back, you need to come get it from me.” He purrs, waving the sodden article in your direction. You grimace, feeling annoyed at the proposition. Of course. That was his game. 

“I’m not an idiot, you know.” You bite out, and he sets the hat down, tilting his head to the side. He has this adorable curl that crosses over his forehead with a few other strands. 

“I never implied you were.” He responds, smiling peacefully, and you glower. 

“Obviously you think I am, though. As soon as I come over there, you’re just going to drag me under with you. No shot.” You insist, and he clicks his tongue, offering an unimpressed roll of his eyes. 

“Really? Come on. I wouldn’t do that.” He insists, rounding his eyes in what you assume is supposed to be a more ‘innocent’ manner. “Why would I go all the way out to retrieve your lovely hat, only to immediately kill you? I think you’ll look lovely in it, wet or not.” He purrs again, curling his lips up once more, and your scowl deepens. 

“That was hardly a swim for you.” Comes your flat reply, body prickling in uncertainty. “It'd probably be the easiest meal you’d ever get.”  “Please, sweetheart. I wouldn’t want to eat you; I’ve already had lunch.” He narrows his eyes, and you shudder softly against your will as you notice the more carnal look in them. “...Unless, of course, you’d like to provide me with a treat. That would be probably the best ‘thank you’ I could get.” You consider that he really is talking about ravaging your body, until you realize his eyes are pointedly staring at your crotch between your pulled up legs. Then, his eyes travel to your lips, before meeting your own. A sudden heat travels through your body that leaves you holding a breath. He takes the opportunity to shift forward a bit more, and that immediately brings you out of your stupor. 

“J-Just throw the hat forward! Please…” You ask, voice trembling a bit from the combination of soft lust and fear crowding your mind. “Thank you for getting it, but I… I can’t… I don’t trust you. Surely you understand.” You insist, one of your hands coming down to grip the towel. His lips come to form a thin line, and you’re not so certain the dark look in his eyes is as lustful as it was before. Your time is definitely up, now, and you quickly scramble to your feet. You grab your earbuds, phone and towel, beginning to walk back the way you came, but his voice stops you. 

“Wait!” Looking back, you see that he’s tossed the hat a couple of feet from him, and he’s pulled himself back just a bit. His tail is further in the water than before, he’s peering at you, gaze brighter than before, but definitely more unreadable. “...I understand your distrust.” He relents, and you hesitate for the third time this meeting, uncertain if you should take the bait. You still had the advantage on land… Is your cute hat really worth risking your life, though?

You look back at him. He’s just watching you now, a sort of benign curiosity over his own features. Maybe… He was just as curious about you as you were him. Clearly he’s had contact with humans before, though. He wouldn’t be able to speak otherwise. This is all a trap. You convince yourself, body stiff as you consider what to do next. You could just order another one… But it was perfect for here and now. You could just buy more in town, though… 

You consider that your life isn’t worth risking over a hat. And yet, you find yourself placing your items on the ground, your feet slowly inching towards the wet article. The mer watches your every move, head low to the ground, and your eyes are following the way his tail twitches beneath the waves. You look at his hands. He’s rested his head on them now. That assuages some fears… Maybe he really wasn’t going to do anything. Was he so bored that he just wanted to see you closer? Use you for amusement? Perhaps. That wasn’t the most egregious sin, though… 

You’re finally close enough to the hat, slowly bending down to reach it, as if trying not to spook him. He doesn’t move. You grab the brim, slowly bringing it up. For a moment, you find yourself just looking at him, and he’s looking at you. He’s even more gorgeous close up, now that you notice all of the little freckles and imperfections that dot his face. The only other ‘imperfection’ you could find, if you could call any of it imperfect(which you really couldn’t), was the small scar gouged into his forehead.

For once, instead of fear or any sort of weird arousal, you feel… Awe. This dangerous, beautiful creature sits not five feet from you, drinking you him as you do him. He has a sort of boyish charm to him that is enough to make you test your own willpower and suppress yourself from reaching forward to brush your fingers through his hair. Comb back those hairs that curl in front of his eyes, brush your thumb across the beautiful scales on his cheek bones… 

Seems you’ve been enthralled, and you’re not quick enough to move as he suddenly lunges and grabs onto your wrist. You cry out in surprise, molasses quickly turning into a rapid stream as you try to pull away, but he’s strong. Dear God, is he strong. “I helped you. The least you can do is return the favor.” He finally speaks up, and that look of wonderment that was in his own eyes has vanished. He looks smug like before, smirk planted as he tugs you a bit closer. 

“P-Please, let go!” You cry out again, trying to wrench free to no avail. 

“I just want one, little thing, then I’ll let you go. I promise.” He insists, leaning up a bit, his eyes flashing with that same dangerous intent as before. When he was looking at you like you were his next meal. His ‘treat’. Another shudder wracks your body against your will, and you bite your lip. “Just a kiss. Only one. That’s it. Please?” He tilts his head to the side, eyes rounding a bit into something akin to a puppy. Oh, no… That was awfully convincing, especially with that heat still in his eyes. 

Okay. You had been a fool once, shame on you. But twice? You were not going to die here today. Most certainly, no kiss was worth dying for, and you knew better than to trust his words, now. His grip was painful, only because he was strong, but he didn’t claw at your arm or wrist, thankfully. 

“...If you let me go, I’ll kiss you.” You finally said, quietly, heart thundering in your chest. He seemed to contemplate this for a moment, eyeing you to try and find any deception. Finally, he pushed himself up a bit more, giving a small incline of his head in agreement. Slowly, he released your hand, letting it come to rest in front of his chest. You were so very grateful that the Lord had granted you the strength to go through with your plan and resist that very kissable face. 

As soon as he released you, you turned on foot and fled. Or, that’s what you tried to do, but he was so fast. He grabbed onto your ankle, jerking you back, and you fell with a painful gasp. A wheeze left your chest as you struggled for breath, but you realized you needed to struggle now to not be pulled into the water. He was beginning to drag you, laughing all the way, and you shrieked in fear, desperately trying to claw your hands into the sand. You were so, so stupid. Why the fuck would you do that? Why did you have to go back for your hat? Why did you have to stand there and admire him? 

“H-Help! P-Please, no! Let me go, let me go!” You shrieked, feeling hot tears begin to roll down your face as fear bloomed through your entire being. You tried to kick and pull, but he was easily able to evade your swats or keep you held tight. Whereas before, with your wrist, he was being careful, he most certainly was not with your ankle. You felt his nails digging into you, and you realized that this probably really was the end. Mers had the capability of releasing a neurotoxin that could easily make your mind and body go numb if enough was administered, and you were almost certain that was happening to you as you felt a cold flush through your system. You didn’t think it was the waves hitting your body, after all. 

“Stop! S-Stop, please, I– I’ll s-stay away, I promise!” You sobbed, feeling the water now up to your chest as you thrashed and pleaded with the mer. You wondered if he’d kill you here on shore, devour the best bits of you and leave your carcass to float along. At least then your family would know what happened to you. Perhaps, instead, he’d drag you further into the water, play with you until you just couldn’t fight back anymore, then he’d pull you down with him and drown you. Would it hurt? What did drowning feel like? All of these morbid thoughts floated into your mind as you fought and twisted and tried to claw at him, but nothing was working. You sputtered as water entered your mouth and nose, and your sob was bubbling as you once again shrieked hopelessly for help. 

This is it. There was a reason you didn’t you never wanted to fuck with the ocean, and yet you did. You had entirely fucked around, and now were finding out. What a fool you were. The shore was becoming further away, and you couldn’t let out anymore loud calls for help with water constantly invading your mouth, but you noticed he wasn’t drowning you. So… He was playing with his food first, then. Maybe you could do something about it. Catch him off guard. Go for the gills, or the eyes, or–

There was a whoosh beneath your body. Another bubbling shriek of terror left your lips, before something emerged behind you. There was an instant chittering of furious clicks that caught your ears, exchanged back and forth as you were tugged and pulled, and you suddenly realized there were two of them, now. Fuck. How many more were there? 

You expected to feel the rip and tear of your flesh, likely being fought over for food, but instead found the pressure around your ankle disappearing. You flounder, still feeling too paralyzed with fear and a hearty dose of adrenaline to make your limbs coordinate with what you wanted to do. There was a hiss, before you cried out again as an arm was wrapped around your torso, pulling you to another slick body. You fought and kicked, but all you stubbed your foot into was pure muscle of another mer tail. 

“Stop fighting me, please! I’m going to help you back to shore.” The voice piped up, sounding both a mixture of weary and fearful itself. 

“I can take her back; I was just messing around! I swear, I wasn’t gonna kill her!” Came the other mer’s voice, and although you noticed they sounded eerily similar, you pinpointed that one as the one that had dragged you. You fought and pushed against the mer holding onto you, but you did notice that you were being brought closer to the shore. You paddled as well, partially in an attempt to get away, partially to try and go faster, you figured. There was no response from one you were close to, but there didn’t need to be one. Soon, you felt your feet hit the sand, and you instantly pushed yourself away from him. 

It was a big of a slog to get through the water at your hips, but you managed probably the fastest you had ever done. You almost tripped once, but finally made it back to shore, chest heaving and ankle burning as you glanced behind you. You could see the mer that had dragged you out in the distance, a look of something akin to frustration on his face. What shocked you the most, though, was the mer that had taken you to shore. 

He looked just like the other mer. Identical down to the eye and hair color and facial features. The only real difference you could find was that he looked just a bit more pale, and his overall features were somehow a bit softer, his hair not as wild. You couldn’t see his tail, but from what you could gleam from the scales on his cheeks, they were a lighter blue. He watched you, a concerned look on his face as you backed away. Tears were still streaking down your cheeks, and you fought to keep walking, trembling as he swam a bit closer. “I’m sorry for what he did. If you’d let me explain–” He begins to speak, but you’ve most certainly had enough. 

You turn, leaving your stupid hat behind that got you into this mess in the first place. You have the forethought to grab your towel and phone, because they’re far enough away. You don’t put on your flipflops and don’t feel your earbuds tumble out of your towel as you hurry down the sand. There’s more angry clicks in the background which sends a chill right up your spine, but you don’t look back, even as they recede into the distance and vanish.

[guess-that-ship]

S12 Round 3

Double Crossing my Dungeoning Party (GONE WRONG)

Green never says how he feels. If he did, he would constantly be tearing into everyone he ever interacted with. He can't afford to he getting into arguments, especially not with his party, when he has goals to achieve. When he has to see to their destruction. So he keeps his mouth shut and projects a mild and agreeable exterior.

Gray is uncomfortable in his own skin. Every time he is faced with pressure, he feels like he is faced with two options: fall back into his old habits, harmful to himself and others around him, or completely shut down. He doesn't feel comfortable in conversation with anyone, including members of his own party. He's a complete and total pushover, terrified of conflict and rejection.

Gray makes Green angry at first. Out of everyone in the party, all the idealistic idiots, controlling egomaniacs, offputting freaks, and impulsive contrarians, it's Gray's spinelessness that makes it hard to stay in the party. It infuriates him to no end how someone can let their life be controlled by fear. But he has to stick it out, in order to achieve his goals. Green will help him put with his problems. Just to make him more tolerable, so he doesn't go crazy.

Green and Gray spend a lot of time together. Green soon sees Gray for who he truly is-- intelligent, resourceful, and kind. Green slips up for the first time, and sees through Gray's faults, which isn't something he does for anyone. They start to like each other, in more ways than one. The more he helps him, the more comfortable Gray gets. And the more comfortable Gray gets, the more bright golden parts of him shine through his rusted iron exterior. And the more Green starts to slip again. The more Green sees of Gray's true self, the more Green wants Gray to see of his. Not just his personality, but his past. His present and his future.

But he can't slip. For multiple reasons. For one thing, Gray likes the agreeable, encouraging Green. He wouldn't like the critical, abrasive Green. He slipped up once in falling for Gray, and he won't slip up again in showing Gray who he really is. Wait, shit. That's not the most important reason. It's not about whether or not Gray will like him- it's about his goals. Why he's traveling with this party in the first place. He can't blow his cover. Gray has to die with all the rest.

Purple Light

cw: spoilers

Two teenage girls meet one summer and forge an unbreakable bond with each other, one that unites them with a psychic connection. They go their separate ways but remain connected as they separately fight monsters and other forms of evil, always remaining close to each other with their telepathic communications.

One day, their greatest foe captures them both and traps them in another world, one where they forget who they are. They settle into different lives, where they meet again and become friends. They both seem to understand that something is wrong with their lives, even if they can't explain how. They both want to escape their unhappy existences, and one girl eventually escapes.

When she leaves, she finds a way to remember her real existence, and realizes that she & her friend are still trapped and in danger. She tries to save them both by convincing her friend to return with her so that they can battle their way out. The friend refuses, staying behind and believing that their false, unhappy life is their true reality, settling into an uneasy day-to-day life. …until they see themselves in a mirror as they truly are, seeing themselves as the powerful being they truly are. What happens next is left ambiguous, but it's implied that there is still time for the both of them to save each other and return to where they truly belong.

[visxionery]

Revealing my desired enstars shuffle units!!! I might make more posts about each unit in particular + what songs it'll prob sound like. First is the event card and second and third is gacha card and the rest is event

but for now here's a brief look into each unit!

dystopia : they are all mystical beings that live in a dystopian world where art and order is gone.

heartthrob : think aisle with you plus atoz but spin it. This is more of a sad nostalgic kind of love unit? Like basically a we used to be in love and I long for you kind of thing. CAUSE I KNOW VALENTINES ARE LIKE HAPPY BUT I WANT SAD VALENTINES OK ARGHHHH (gets dragged out)

wonderlandz : mascot cosplay group, imagine twisted wonderland met wicked drugs and this. ill explain more on who is who <3 vetarannoruma : a group doing a documentary about investigative work but then gets caught in a ACTUAL CASE, they somehow end up on a plane- someone gets shot???!!! and ibara throws a bomb somewhere-FIND OUT MORE IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF VEGAS TRUE CRIME-

5050' : so eichi is investing shit right and then makes a bet and loses sum money idfk to RINNE AMAGI? Turns out rinne is good at investing and shit but then eichi like nuh uh ur reckless kohaku is on the shuffle cause rinne and his dirty schemes. Kanata is trolling and Tetora is burning kitchens (i'll explain i swear-)

imaging : OHOHO THIS IS A HALLOWEEN SHUFFLE, so switch makes a haunted house right and natsume is like lets do a mirror maze *casts sum spell* then SUBARU gets caught in the spell and suddenly theres multiple of them and the other three members get trapped.

dia thieves : game show where they battle for fans and try to rizz you up but then stinky pr does smth and THERES A SCANDAL?????? find out more on dia thieves : broke asf....

phantoms at the opera : OK OK I KNOW MAYOI AINT IN ERE BUT I DIDNT WANNA MAKE IT THAT OBVIOUS. So hokuto is doing sum dramatica shit and then he gets a theatre role outside and then they have to act out shit think masquerade ball BUT THEN (here's the plot twist) THEY GET THRUSTED INTO A MURDER MYSTERY GAME BY GATEKEEPER (dun dun dunn!!!) SHIT HAPPENS NAGISA GETS INTO A CULT TSUMUGI IS HANGING OFF A LEDGE REI ALMOST DIES HOKUTO WRU and madara is yo mama.

CU2+ : So midori and hajime has been part of a buddy system made by es to cultivate good relationships between fellow idols, but they chat anon they all do so no one knows who each other is. Midori has been feeling a bit down lately and the rest of the support grp helps him but then everyone puts on a false persona because they want to be a better version of themselves. Hajime wants them to all meet in the real world at around 2 plus, but Midori has other plans...

Parasol : ARASHI WEARS A SUNDRESS TWO PIECE I REPEAT ARASHI WEARS A- basis is its a modelling gig and compared to arashi chiaki is TERRIBLE DAWG i love you chiaki but i know you can willingly go without bathing so on the day of the shoot they put so much effot in bad weather strucks and ITS A BRINK OF A NATURAL DISASTER.....but arashi is stuck and all alone....

PLEASE IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS THOUGHTS JUST YAP IN MY COMMENTS I LOVE TO RAMBLE ABT THEM <3

[couldaromanticismsavethem]

Warning! Spoilers for Pokemon Reborn! Like. Major spoilers. You've been warned!

TITANIA ANDERSEN FROM POKEMON REBORN

Justification: “BOY HOWDY DID YOU ASK THE RIGHT PERSON!

This has MASSIVE HUGE spoilers for the entire plot of Pokemon Reborn, and two major plot choices you can make, and slightly more minor for the other two paths.

Okay, so Titania is the steel-type gym leader. Her gym's theme is fairy tales. Her ace is an Aegislash that she wields like a sword to kill people.

When she was younger, she was friends with Julia, Florinia, and Amaria. Julia was consistently out exploding things and dating boys. She was not around for most of the Amazing Toxic Yuri Incident. Amaria is Titania's ex-girlfriend. Back when the four were still friends, Amaria struggled with self-harm, depression, and attraction to Titania. Titania realized that there were two ways this would end: Amaria killed herself or they started dating. So Titania decided the best course of action would be: fake dating. She "confessed" to Amaria, they got all romantic, and Amaria was no longer in mortal danger!

Were there doctors in Reborn city? Yes. However, the one doctor is transphobic and electrocutes children, so Amaria couldn't really see him. (He's very dead now. The orphans are all being well-taken care of.) So due to the state of mental healthcare, Titania did believe it was the only choice to make.

She also wanted to protect Florinia, and so she had a fake breakdown and started screaming about how no one liked Florinia and she should stay away from them. This, needless to say, did not protect Florinia. She repressed her emotions heavily and began speaking like an academic paper, much to the chagrin of everyone around her.

Titania and Amaria ended up living together, by a waterfall. Amaria was gifted Sapphire Bracelets by Titania, who found them in the ashes of a burned down house. These bracelets were one of four keys that could open up a door into a place called the New World. The region's "evil" team, Team Meteor, wanted the Bracelets to let forth the New World.

Lin, a child trapped in the New World, also wanted to escape. She recruited her sister Terra to Team Meteor, joined herself via god-puppet-thing (which I shall refer to as Meteor Champion Lin,) and rose the ranks. When Terra started, she was known only as "T." This was later revealed to be short for Titawin. (In Team Meteor, most admins and those in important positions have false star-based names.)

Amaria heard of this. Amaria had also seen Titania talking to a Meteor agent. Titania was feeding the agent false information in order to protect Amaria. Amaria, however, thought Titania was Terra and part of Team Meteor. When the player character (I will refer to them as Decibel, since there are 6 options) "talked" to Amaria, she revealed this and began to look through Titania's things. (Decibel cannot fully talk. They're also a god-puppet-thing, but have more free will. ((technically? it's never expanded on)))

She found her diary and saw that Titania had been writing a fairy tale about someone with a curse, and that someone was fake loving her, but the only option was to let her go. This was Titania letting off steam from the massively stressful relationship she was in. Amaria thought it meant that Titania's love had been fake. Which, like, it was, but come on man. She just skimmed one page of a notebook and drew her own conclusions.

Anyways, Amaria ended up confronting Titania. She ran out of the house, went onto the edge of the waterfall, and leapt down. Titania was very confused by Amaria's marathon leaps of logic, but jumped down after her.

The waterfall led to the Water Treatment Plant, which had been taken over by none other than Team Meteor. Decibel couldn't follow them since they didn't have the Waterfall TM. One gym fight later and Decibel leapt down to see that Titania had been stuck for three days and had killed every Meteor in sight.

One massive annoying puzzle and a couple of stabbings later, an admin took the Bracelets, gave them back because he didn't want to be a part of Meteor, and left for the desert.

When Amaria woke up from her fall, she had lost some of her memory. She didn't remember Decibel, or Titania's ""betrayal,"" or her attempting suicide.

Depending on actions taken against the admin in the Water Treatment Plant, Amaria will attempt to drown Decibel. Titania saves them, yells at Amaria, and runs to her gym in the desert. Amaria also reveals that she knew Titania never loved her. She kept her around because Amaria needed Titania, as she would constantly stay with her when she got really depressed. She had hoped that she could simply love Titania, and that would be enough.

Titania also mentions wishing that feelings would come for Amaria.

After doing other things not related to the Amazing Toxic Yuri Gang, Decibel goes to the desert. In the same route that Amaria tries to drown Decibel, the admin, Taka, will ask to join them in the desert.

Eventually, Decibel and Taka show up at Train Town.

Reborn City's primary mode of transportation is trains. There is a massive train scrapyard in the desert. Nestled inside is a town. Taka, as he wishes to hide from Meteor, stays there. It would have been a fantastic plan if not for the fact that Lin, the leader of Team Meteor, used the power of Arceus to control Decibel, and thus can see what they see.

Decibel shows up at Titania's gym. Meteor Champion Lin kidnaps them and also Taka after hiding as a knight.

They awake in a tower. Stone. Cold. Alone.

But not for long! Taka's there! He's confused but continued on the set path. Decibel does as well, and is given the Bracelets by Titania.

Fun fact, the Bracelets are called the Key of Love. The sapphire in Reborn's crest is for all kinds of love.

Decibel proceeds through the gym. They fight a stone Reshiram/Zekrom. On the route you fight Zekrom, an armored knight appears and begins to speak like MCLin. Titania stabs the knight!

Uh oh, bad decision, Titania!

It was Taka. Taka dies. MCLin appears and holds her over lava.

And there is only one who can kill the dragon: the one to whom its back is turned.

Her Aegislash then stabs and "kills" MCLin. Decibel pulls up Titania. MCLin comes back because you can't kill a puppet. She alludes to her and Decibel working together and dips.

Decibel fights and wins against Titania and gets their gym badge.

The plot has progressed and Terra has taken over a building and trapped, among others, Amaria and Titania together. She forces them to fight. Titania revels in how nice it is to hear Amaria fall silent. She also mentions how, essentially, Amaria made her emotions other people's problems.

Later on, all the keys are gathered, the door to the New World opens, depending on choices you can fight Lin and lose or fight her and leave her to the dogs, we're going with the "Lin is still there with Arceus power and you didn't throw her into the void" path for this one, and then Lin just starts opening portals and spawning like, 14 Genesect for fun.

Lin's New World has an affect on people. It causes them to shout out a distorted version of their true thoughts and feelings. This is called Umbral Energy.

One of the portals has a Groudon and Kyogre in it.

Titania has red hair. Amaria is the water-type gym leader.

Titania and Amaria get their corresponding legendary, get Umbral, and start beating the shit out of each other. Decibel fights them both, gauntlet-style. Lin throws Amaria into the lake. Titania begrudgingly drags her out.

They leave the cave as exes.

(Julia and Florinia leave having rekindled their friendship and being happy with each other's company.)

(Also, Florinia gets help from a Lin-spawned Latias and makes an effort to let herself feel emotions.)

Titania is EXTREMELY aro-coded. Using romance as a tool is, as far as I can tell, the universal aromantic experience. Titania obviously cares for Amaria, and did do what she thought was best to protect her at the time. I know realizing she was aro would help her. You walk up to Titania and slide an article to her and she comes back with a white ring and 20 years added to her lifespan. Being in a romantic relationship is extremely stressful for her. Being out of it is good, but she's not gonna be the same again. In the route I didn't detail- the one where you fight a Zekrom- she stays with Amaria and mentions that it's her personal hell.

Romance is a burden for Titania. She hates being in a false relationship just to support someone she cares about.

And that is why Guardian Princess Titania Andersen is aromantic. If anyone has objections I am plugging my ears and screaming. Thank you for listening!”

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hi mbti notes, I’m an entj that wrote to you a long while ago about feeling trapped with intimacy. I’ve done a lot of work on myself since then partly with the help of your reflective questions in your answer. I’ve run into another issue I’d like to ask about.

In an attempt to learn more about myself I’ve been trying to identify traits in people I really enjoy being around and that are important to me in friendships and relationship but am finding my responses confusing.

An example being a friend I met recently who is very honest and straightforward with their thoughts and feelings, no games, which is something I know I don’t like. I really liked their energy so I followed that interest and got to know them but started seeing those same traits I initially liked as childish the more I learned. They would take unexamined contradictory moral stances or just in general not want to explore their thoughts. While they were honest they also seemed to have no room for self doubt.

I don’t understand how I could both really like and then be so turned off by the same things as I got more exposure to it. Perhaps I’m making the problem too broad and it just was a bad match, but it signals to me that I still have a lot more I don’t understand about what my interests really are. Thank you for any thoughts you have if you reply

----------------------

I applaud your efforts to improve yourself. You are correct in saying that there's a lot more you don't understand about what your interests are and the role they play in how you relate to others. You seem to be describing a common phenomenon known as projection (you can read previous posts about it).

Review the third paragraph you wrote above. Do you know that the way you describe your friend is precisely how a lot of people describe Te doms? The positive aspects you liked are characteristic of dominant Te and the negative aspects you disliked are characteristic of inferior Fi. It's not a coincidence that this happened.

Jung said: "Projections change the world into the replica of one’s own unknown face." When you are prone to projection, you don't see the world as it is but as you are. As such, your judgments don't reveal any objective truth but a subjective distortion.

For example, as you first explore what you like, it's natural to gravitate toward "like-minded" people. Why? They reflect back to you your own positive qualities, and the validation feels good. However, people who are like you will also possess similar negative qualities as you. When those negative qualities start to bother you, it's because they hit too close to home. Seeing those negative qualities in someone else starts to make you more aware of negative things in yourself that you are not yet ready to confront. Invalidation doesn't feel good. To put it in crude terms, you were basically falling in love with a version of yourself and then fell out of love as soon as your flaws were revealed.

Everyone wants to see themselves in a positive light, so it can be painful to face up to one's own negative side. People at low levels of ego development don't yet have a strong and healthy ego (which is most people). One way to compensate for a fragile ego is to form an unrealistic self-image that serves to hide the negative aspects of oneself. However, since reality keeps threatening to intrude upon and even shatter an unrealistic self-image, people need some way to maintain that false image in the face of threats. This is achieved through a variety of defense mechanisms (see the dedicated article).

Projection is a defense mechanism. Projecting your darker aspects onto another person means you don't have to look at them in yourself. It's a way of deflecting painful truths. Defense mechanisms operate unconsciously, so it's not a "choice" you make per se but something you get in the habit of doing because it feels better than the alternative of facing the truth.

One reason defense mechanisms are considered unhealthy is because they keep your self-awareness low, too low, to the point of interfering with personal growth. According to psychoanalytic theory, even when you have a genuine conscious motivation to improve yourself, your personal growth will be quite slow as long as the full truth about you remains repressed and hidden in the unconscious, masked by a complicated network of defense mechanisms.

While it might sound like projection is a "bad" thing because it's unhealthy, if you can admit that you're projecting, it's actually an opportunity to know yourself better, to see your own darker side and address it properly rather than keeping it repressed. You can spot projection whenever you're being judgmental and there is a distinct recurring pattern in how you judge people. You can also spot projection by stepping back and considering whether your judgments are truly fair and objective.

Being able to spot projection gives you a chance to turn your attention around onto yourself, to reflect on why exactly those particular qualities bother you so much. Do you possess those same qualities? If so, acknowledging the truth grants you a chance to change for the better. If not, would having those qualities make you feel deeply ashamed or lead you to hate yourself? Exposing repressed shame or self-loathing is necessary for correcting a distorted self-image.

Caveat: The truth has the potential to hurt. Digging into defense mechanisms is a risky thing to do depending on whether they are being used to mask some deep-seated pain and suffering. If you suspect that this process of self-examination could be very destabilizing, it's best to work with a therapist to increase your self-awareness in a gradual and safe manner.