#and i intend to be happy with what i got rather than sad for what i didn't

[rusty-lustful-fireflies]

My addition to nandermo queerbait debate; aka why does it feel like queerbaiting

I feel like a lot of arguing could be cut down here if we agreed on what a definition of queerbait is. Cause you see, by the official definition it's about hinting at character's sexualities being anything but straight. At this light wwdits does not queerbait cause everybody's queer. Hence nandermo can be only shipbaiting.

However I feel like it's not a definition that is commonly used by the public. And I think we should consider what would count as one. I must admit, to me, until recently when I've done my proper research digging, it seemed it goes as something of the following:

1. When media producers set up a dynamic in which they hint at romantic/erotic/really any not platonic development between same sex characters (different but gender queer would count too if mainstream media bothered with such representation) without any wish to ever actually follow through with it, using it as a marketing tool instead, to attract larger, maybe more committed audience, mostly thanks to queer community.

They basically set up plotlines mirroring those in romances and follow them for some time. Very often they also do step 2

2. After said media gains a large following of people invested in queer romance the romantic development of characters mostly dies down, writing opting out for status quo platonic dynamic, systematically interrupted with emotionally loaded ,,canon evidence" ambiguous, grand gesture scenes instead, to keep the audience believing in chances of non-platonic development till the end.

And my point with formulating that unofficial amateur definition is:

Even though we weren't queerbaited this time, at least by official definition, because of the ,,they are canonically queer" difference, as the audience of wwdits we went through the exact same process we did during any queerbaiting in history. Supernatural did that, Sherlock did that and so on. Plus I believe most of supernatural fans really hoped for canon destiel more than castiel confirmed pansexual, so the relationship aspect is what gets attributed to queerbaiting more.

Queer characters aren't exactly uncommon in the cinema, especially comedy, so much as they commonly aren't treated seriously, with development, arcs and yeah romances of their own. (Although we could use some quantity too in my humble opinion)

In the end, it doesn't matter if we were queerbaited or just shipbaited, cause no matter how we call it the effect stays the same. As always we hoped for them to be together. As many times before, we thought so based on purposeful writing decisions made to set up this effect, yet get gashlited that we created it in our silly homo minds which can not perceive friendship.

btw, you can disagree with me 100% on that, by all means have a different opinion, but please if you wish to tell me about it, stay polite while doing so.

[cupidkenji]

If you think I'm pretty

Pairing: Homelander x afab!reader CW: fingering, praise, slightly OOC homie, threats of captivity (he says hes gonna keep reader in the penthouse that's it I promise it's not genuine), cursing, sub!reader, porn without plot (I think this is applicable), they're in a relationship before this, reader says 'John' cause moaning homelander is funny as fuck Summary: Being a perfectionist, you're unsatisfied with a recent test score. Homelander has a cure for that. Disclaimer: reader is always thought to be chubby/fat but there are no physical descriptors here, just an FYI WC: 1,955 Genuinely idk I'd like to apologize for this. I fell out of my Criminal Minds hyperfixation like months ago and haven't written since so I'm really rusty. This is 100% a self-insert but reader is gn and not described other than the fact that they're AFAB. Also this was only proof read once so please point out typos if you see them <3

Your mother used to scold you for being too hard on yourself. Her face is virtually the only thing you can picture as your screen burns your eyes a bit. It’s too early for the high brightness of the device, having woken up before the sun could reintroduce your eyes to light. You’d set yourself up to wake slightly after midnight, intending to check the score of a huge test you’d taken months ago and simply go back to sleep in a matter of minutes. A rather stupid plan, in hindsight. You were questioning now if you knew yourself at all. Your phone had nearly been in your hand when you felt the cold burn of anxiety in your lungs. This test was a huge fucking deal. You were a hardcore perfectionist on top of that, trying with countless futile attempts to surrender your idea of the model score. You just needed to pass, not get your professor to memorialize you in marble for your pure genius. You’d gotten up instead of turning on your phone, brushing your teeth and making your bed before pacing the room slightly while you thought. Essentially, you were just allowing the mantra of ‘cope’ to bound back and forth between your ears for a couple minutes. You weren’t sure if you wanted to cope with the disappointment of a lesser score, or you were telling yourself to come down a couple pegs and be happy with getting by. The repetition of the word soothed that icy-hot feeling that had festered from your lungs to your fingertips, and you checked.

You were fine. Not the score you wanted, but you were fine. 

Mentally you writhed against the slump of your shoulders, but the weight of this self-inflicted shortcoming hit harder than you were capable of defending yourself from. The long sigh you let out was all frost as the tension left your airways. How underwhelming. You laid down on the bed you’d made not ten minutes ago, hearing the window slide open a few seconds into your pity party. You normally left it unlocked for him, knowing if anyone else attempted to enter your home, he wasn’t far. He told you himself that he seemed to have tuned into you specifically; swearing he’d be able to hear you on the other side of the city if you needed him.

“It’s way too early for you to already be having a bad day. The sun’s not even up.” He was closer now, fully sealed into your space and approaching you with comfortable footsteps. You never fully got over the irony of seeing America’s greatest hero flying through your window in sweatpants. “What’s wrong?” You always noticed the subtle way he changed how he spoke around you. In every interview or interaction you’d ever witnessed of his, he’d spoken like a character. For a man who hated having his words scripted, he spoke the same as every cookie-cutter movie he’d starred in. He didn’t talk that way with you, something you hoped was subconscious. A demonstration of the safety he felt around you.

You shrugged in response to the question. You acknowledged the trivial nature of your feelings, knowing you probably reeked of sadness to him but attempting to downplay it anyways. “Bad test score.”

He sat down next to you on the edge of the bed, allowing you the space to remain sprawled out. “Doubtful.” He laughed slightly as he said it, shaking his head and smiling. He looked at you, his eyebrows furrowing minorly. “What’d you get?”

“A four.”

“What were you hoping to get?”

Your voice was barely audible as you spoke, knowing he would pick it up but also trying to spare yourself the rush of immaturity hearing yourself speak would bring. “A five.”

He sighed - a sigh full of endearment that his eyes reflected as he looked at you. You told him once that his eyes were the first thing you’d noticed. It was sunny the day you’d met, and they looked practically ethereal. You’d seen such chaos reflected in them even from day one. The masses called him ‘soulless’ often, but you couldn’t understand such an accusation from anyone who had ever seen him. His eyes were practically overflowing with soul, every time you looked at him it was all you saw. They were capable of incredibly dangerous things but they were so entrancing. He was so fucking enticing. 

You broke the eye contact, but he nudged your leg and moved his head to try and follow your eyes. “Hey-” He called for your attention, so you looked back at him. “You know that’s a good score, right?”

You smiled small at him. “No- I know. I’m just…I don’t know- strict with myself.” You found it hard to put into words. You knew you’d done well, but the ability to feel pride felt withheld from you. Like your eyes bore into it but your mind refused to distribute the feeling it brought to something tangible.

“I think you’re just too much of a fucking perfectionist.” His hand was splayed across your upper thigh from where he sat. No matter which part of you he touched, he had a grip that made your head spin. He was so sure of himself, the strength demonstrated from such an unassuming form never lost the novelty that it’d held when you met him. “Can’t let yourself admit when you did good.”

You tried to be dismissive, but it was hard to fake anything with a man like him. “As if you aren’t, John.” His jaw got the slightest bit tighter at the use of his name. Such a miniscule action that easily dodges the eyes of people who aren’t looking. You couldn’t really imagine not looking at him.

“I’m serious.” His face was still relaxed, but the expression in his eyes had shifted. His pupils dilated and his full attention was on you. “You did good.”

The only con of being with somebody with abilities such as his was the lack of secrecy. You used to laugh with your friends about how grateful you were for the discrete nature of arousal when living without certain body parts. That went out the window when you started seeing him. He knew the second anything shifted within you. He had every perversion you’d ever dreamt about practically categorized by the time your two month anniversary had rolled around. One of his favorite pastimes was casually working a turn-on into conversation and just watching you squirm.

You fought the urge to pull away from his hand, feeling your stomach drop slightly at a declaration like that. “Thank you.” You looked away from him again. Something you knew he didn’t really like but choosing to try and save face over anything else. 

“Yeah…I don’t know.” You could see his focus on the topic increasing by the second. His disposition was happy, but he held serious and almost threatening undertones. He tightened his grip on your thigh and you looked at back to him, hesitantly following the silent command to keep your eyes up. “I think you should say it.”

“John-” His assertiveness was starting to get to you, it always did. You sat up on your forearms to be a little more level with him but he moved his hand from your thigh to your stomach and pushed you back down. The thought of having to lay there and explicitly state that you did well on your test felt like a kid having to write in repetition on a chalkboard in detention. 

He was looking down at you, the eye contact making you slightly dizzy. His face was kind, it almost always was when he was around you, but the conversation was derailing. “I just think it’s important that you understand this.” He was so good at making you want what he thought was best.

You inhaled, swallowing your pride and licking your lips. “What do you want me to say?”

That familiar, condescending smile was starting to creep onto his lips. “Just tell the truth.” His eyebrows raised slightly in a silent prompt. “Say you did good.”

His hand was descending from your stomach, making it’s way to the hemline of your underwear. You hadn’t bothered to change out of what you were sleeping in, only now realizing the vulnerability of it. You held your tongue for a moment, breathing out a quiet “I did good.” 

He tore the only fabric between his hand and you off your body as easily as ripping a sheet of paper and leaned in a little more. “Say it again.”

“John-” You said it as barely an exhale as he skimmed his hand over you. You hadn’t even registered just how sensitive or how wet you’d gotten in the few minutes you were talking to him.

“I don’t know why you act so fucking noble. You should be running Ashleys around in circles or giving interns your coffee order. Not any of this testing bullshit that you’re too good for anyway.” His tone elevated to that mocking, cocky tone that swept into the most shame filled crevices of your mind and tugged the most deprived parts into the driver seat. He thumbed at your clit while he spoke, increasing and decreasing the pressure whenever he felt like it and effectively snatching any remaining ability to form coherent thought from your grabbing hands. “You’ve been chosen by a God, honey. You can do anything, I can give you anything.” He got breathier as he spoke, seemingly soaking up the desperation you were excreting and matching it in a tenfold.

You felt two of his fingers enter you effortlessly and you couldn’t stop yourself from gripping his arm. You always felt the power imbalance most in times like these. A feeling like pulling an angel away from heaven just for yourself, combing through it’s wings with your fingers or trying to lap up a fraction of that status in a wildly inappropriate disregard for the natural roles of nature. He was so much more than you, but he just wanted you to feel good. You swore under your breath as he started circles on your clit. He never got hand cramps, never got tired. He would go until you couldn’t anymore.

“That’s it.” He had barely said it, more just exhaled the assurance under his breath. You were close, you’re sure he could feel it. “Gonna move you to my penthouse. Keep you braindead and needy.”

 It shouldn’t have hit you the way it did. Considering who he was, he could easily fulfill that promise with nobody at Vought even thinking twice. It was the way he said it, the way he acts. Always needing control and always right. The most powerful man alive spent his time fantasizing about control over you, and your stomach twisted in disgust at how badly it got you off.

He slowed his movements as your high declined. He was breathing heavy, but your heart was beating like a drum. He had the smallest smile on his face like the sound gave him a sense of satisfaction. You rose to your forearms, this time with no protest from him, and watched him stand up. He held the back of your head with the hand that wasn’t nearly dripping and kissed the top of your head. It was chaste and quick, but the domesticity of it made your throat ache. He uttered something about getting a towel to clean up, stating he’d be right back before exiting the room. 

You rushed the words out before he could leave. “But you didn’t-”

“Next time.” He just waved you off. “I just thought you deserved a little reward.”

[pastabaguette]

sorry for all the posts today, but this one is very important: alternian video game edits.

i actually have reasonings for all of their blood types, and a few classpects, so i'll dive into them here:

monika: i'm thinking that early in the game, during acts 1 and 2, she maybe masqueraded as a jadeblood or higher. only during act 3 does she reveal herself as a fuchsia to the protagonist.

gordon and alyx: gordon is probably a tealblood, or somewhere around there. fairly high, but not too high, i think. alyx is an olive, and eli is an indigo. azian was probably a gold. (or lime?) i did have to keep gordon’s orange HEV suit, though. surely you understand. okay, troll half life lore: i think on alternia, all the main characters in the half life franchise are like, olive or above. the rebels in follow freeman and the guards are all lowbloods, so that the player doesn't feel too bad about sacrificing them, or something like that. i think this would be something that would happen in an alternian video game, at least.

agent 47: 47 is actually a mutant, due to being manufactured in a lab. he's a weird ice-blue color. he's still got that piercing stare. i felt a little sad changing his iconic red tie, but i do have some thoughts on that as well. obviously, red in human culture tends to symbolize passion, among other things, and in this case, violence and aggression, because it's the color of blood. however, because trolls all have different blood colors, i think they might have different meanings attached to colors than humans typically do. i think that typically, the colors that would most commonly represent aggression in alternian culture would be blue (cobalt and indigo) and purple. now, i know that the sea dwellers exist, but since the vast majority of trolls are lowbloods, they would have a lot more contact with the land-dwelling highbloods, rather than the fish. so, 47’s tie is blue. (i also just think it looks cool matching his eyes)

chell: I made chell a bronzeblood. she’s a test subject, but not one of the special ones (astronauts, olympians, etc). she’s just another lab rat. (also, a lot of her outfit is orange…)

now for classpects! i only have two i’m sure of as of now:

gordon freeman is an heir of hope. this one is fairly obvious to me. a common belief is that heirs have the ability to become their aspect, in a way. in half life 2, gordon quickly becomes the main symbol of the resistance on earth. for the rebels, he himself IS hope.

agent 47 is a prince of life. again, it’s a common interpretation that princes are themselves void of their aspect, and they destroy that aspect in others. this is really literal, obviously, but as a hitman, 47 kills people. literally destroying life. as for his own lack of life in himself, it’s pretty simple as well. 47 is almost always described as entirely void of emotion and empathy. others often remark on his soulless stare, a lack of life behind his eyes. so, as a prince, he fulfills both criteria there.

holy hell, that was a lot of words. i didn’t intend to talk this much. feel free to add your own thoughts; i’d like to hear what others think. these descriptions were a bit rushed, and i don’t really consider myself to be very good at communicating my thoughts, so a lot of things may have been lost in translation. i’d be happy to try and elaborate on my reasonings for any of them.

(oh, also, please no alyx spoilers. i haven’t played it yet!)

[popponn]

call you later; 1.

notes: what if you didn't pick up their call? they left a voicemail, in their own ways. characters: isagi yoichi, itoshi sae, seishirou nagi. [ part 2 : rin, bachira ]

isagi yoichi

Probably felt a little bit sad you didn’t pick up. You are probably his first crush—and only, for a long time, maybe, and this boy is committed with capital C when he is into something—so don’t be too hard on him. Like, hey, his #2 after the soccer itself didn’t pick up his phone? Poor guy.

But like the considerate boy off the pitch he is, Yoichi will immediately give you a brief of what he wanted to tell you before leaving the classic note of ‘i will call you again later’. It won’t be overly long, as he prefers to talk to you rather than to the empty void of a voicemail. Or at least he intends so to seem polite and proper, until he stutters and tripped all over his words a little bit. It’s cute though.

All in all, probably one of the most normal guy from Blue Lock, as usual, and whatever sad feelings he had from getting his call not being picked up will be gone the moment he got the chance to talk to you. A little advice, just make sure to actually call him later—knowing you reach out to him as soon as you can will make Mr. Egoist pretty happy.

“Uh, so… are you busy? Wait—you are not picking up of course you are busy…” Yoichi trailed off with a nervous laugh. “But, so, anyway, about our promise to walk around Saitama, I was wondering if your schedule is free this Sunday? I got two weeks off Blue Lock but I kinda want to make sure we can do it as soon as we can, so if anything comes up—ah, but I didn’t mean it in a bad way!”

It took Yoichi a few seconds to gather his composure before he continued, “I mean, uh, yeah, I just want to do it with you soon. I will call you again so we can talk about it later! Work hard, or have a good time! See you!”

itoshi sae

First of all, how dare you. He is famous and probably have people lining up for his number while you get him punching your number and didn’t pick up. Just for that, Sae might throw a tantrum, albeit a silent one.

On a more serious note, he will raise an eyebrow honestly, especially if you are the type to usually answer. But he is pretty independent most of the time, so he will only left a few words on the voice mail. In some occasions, though, when he just calls for the sake of listening to you, he will feel a little bit down. You can cheer him up later—you should, actually. Sometimes talking with Sae requires advanced mind reading technique and when he is a little bit down or pissed you really have to use that skill. Because boy, this guy is pretty constipated emotionally.

So, end notes, just call him real soon, okay? He might act cold and tough but he is also someone whose favorite show is Chibi Maruko-chan. He won’t say much in the voicemail or act like it afterwards, but he might really wait for you to call back, especially if he didn’t hear anything from or about you for a day. Though, honestly, just call him back or answer his next call before five seconds so everyone could be saved from his scathing vocabularies.

“What do you want for dinner? I’m picking you up later,” Sae said without wasting a second. “Hurry up and decide, then call me soon, got it? And in case you are thinking of anything funny, finish whatever you are working on first, then call me as soon as possible.”

For a moment, it was as if he was done. Then, a few beats of silence passed and he continued, “…and honestly… nevermind. Just call me soon.”

nagi seishirou

Yeah, let’s be real—he won’t leave a note and just give up. He willed out energy to call you first and you asked more from him? Wow. The fucking audacity.

But, let’s say, he really really wants to talk to you at the time and is in a really really really good mood—it will be long, if only for the long pauses. He will speaks sparsely, like the personification of bullet notes, as he doesn’t really see the point in talking if you are not really there to begin with. But, at the same time, Nagi Seishirou is also a Blue Lock egoist and he thinks having you listen to his voice note for a long time is not exactly a bad thought.

In the end, though, he really just want to hear your voice, actually. So, sooner or later, he will end the note with a ‘call me soon’ and plays a few games while waiting for you. The guy really need to recharge whatever small battery he has with you, so you really better call back if you don’t want to deal with a pouty Nagi holding a petty grudge for three minutes. And come on, do it for Reo, dude has way too much on his plate already.

“Eh, why are you not picking up?” Seishirou started with a complain, before immediately staying silent for a long time. Clearly on purpose, rather than for trying to remember something. “…I want to talk to you, so call me later, ‘kay?” he continued, in the end. “Choki also misses you by the way. You love Choki, right? So you really better call me back.”

Then, as an afterthought, he added, “Oh, I also have something I want to show you. So, let’s meet up next week. That’s all. Later.”

[obae-me]

Hello, and welcome to another installment of niche content containing another mash of my two special interests. Written out of boredom at the airport. Today's edition, fueled with my excitement of being able to go to none other than Miku Expo 2024, I give:

The Brothers As My Favorite Vocaloid Songs!

Yes, I know, please, quell your excitement. I know everyone was waiting for this one. I will take no criticisms or judgments, only enthusiastic additions.

Warning: While nothing stated in this post needs a full content warning, if anyone decides to look up these songs, many songs themselves have plenty of individual warnings, so please search with caution.

Lucifer:

Now, the song I think he'd actually enjoy listening to is Daughter of Evil. It's got tragedy behind it, the song is a bit more classical/waltzy, exactly the kind of thing he likes. However based off his vibes alone, I'm gonna say Honey I'm Home. Mostly because I love Ghost and Pals but also because religious trauma. And I know other people agree with me because I've seen fanart of it.

Mammon:

I think Mammon would listen to Sand Planet. Oo, or Bring it On. Do I have a detailed explanation as to why? Not really in so many words, but it just seems like something he'd listen to, I feel it in my bones. I will not be taking any questions. Now the song I think he embodies? Wildcard. I mean, the whole motif is about playing cards, it's upbeat and fast paced and I love it and I love Kasane Teto even more.

Levi:

I will physically fight anyone who doesn't think Levi listens to Rolling Girl at least once a day (I won't actually fight anyone but I feel very strongly on this matter). It helps him get through hard times but it also makes him cry. Which...same, Levi, same. But if Leviathan were to be a song itself, I'd have to pass it over to Volt Tackle by Deco*27. Pokémon, talking about fighting and struggling at first to capture someone's love? Oo, or Digital Girl. It's got him written all over it. (Or if I want to be sad, give him Anthropophobia)

Satan:

See, Satan is hard because I never know if I envision him listening to heavy metal or if he prefers soft melodies. And, I mean, I know he can like more than one genre at once, but picking THE song I think he'd listen to is hard... but if I'm going off of what I like as well as gut instinct... Abstract Nonsense. Now, selected off his character, I'd have to pick Hikari Yo. It's just very emotional and desperate and the poor demon boi is like that on the inside quite a lot. WAIT or Pathalogical Facade! Oo, lots of options for Good Ol Satan.

Asmo:

Easy, he'd love Gimmie×Gimmie and I don't think I need any further explanation on this opinion. I actually think Asmo would unironically like a lot of vocaloid songs, personally. And as for his songification, I handpick Aishite, Aishite, Aishite. And I know there's a lot of different people's interpretations to this song and everything and people get very... I guess territorial when it comes to this song (at least from specific corners I've seen) but it makes sense to me. It's a really popular song and it's hauntingly beautiful and it's about wanting to be loved and adored and this is MY post so I can say whatever I want about it.

Beel:

Beel is another one that's hard for me to pin down... I think his music taste (joke not intended) is rather eclectic. He probably actually has no real preference other than more upbeat songs to make it easier to work out to. In which case I get to pick whatever I wish. For him I would make him listen to Happy Halloween. I don't care what time of year it is, it's cute and upbeat and about getting treats and it's one of my favorite songs ever. Now one to embody him?... Goodness that's even harder. I would love to say Appetite of a People Pleaser, but Beel's not a people pleaser... I actually don't know! Maybe I am a sham of a fan. I am open to suggestions for my baby Beel.

Belphie:

You know I have to pick Tokyo Teddy Bear. This mans is too edgy not to listen to it all too often. Plus, it's a classic. And, you know I have to make this all even sadder by giving him the song Error. Because I like to make myself cry. And Belphie needs a good cry, let's be honest with ourselves.

I'm also going to add the Distortanist as an honorable mention for unhinged Lesson 16 Belphie.

[bokettochild]

Okay, you wanted asks.

What is your favorite headcanon about Sky?

What would he do if he found out he was related to Legend ( and not currently imprisoned and in danger like in that fic)? Would he be happy or sad that another of his descendants had to suffer his fate?

Get well soon!

Favorite Sky headcannon? Golly, I have a lot, but one that makes me really happy is that he and his family are all really good at fiber arts, and while he's not much for knitting/crochet, he is amazing at embroidery. Like, he genuinely enjoys it,a ND he can and will add embroidery to almost any piece of fabric you give him unless it will cause direct problems to do so.

I also like the idea that he tries to write poetry, is abysmally bad at it, knows he's bad at it, but still tries <3

-

As for the Legend thing. If he'd found out in better circumstances, with the framework of "guess who's your descendant!" rather than "because I'm your descendant, I have a price on my head" he probably would have taken it better.

I really think Sky wants kids. Not right now, of course, since he and Sun are both dealing with a lot and adding a small child to the mix would be terrible, but they definitely dream of having a house full of little ones one day. While he's a bit young to suddenly be the ancestor to a teenager, the confirmation that he'll be a dad, and also meeting a descendant who's as great as Legend is would be very precious to him. In better circumstances, and maybe stumbled into rather than laid bare in all the bloody detail, I think Sky would be ecstatic after he got past that initial shock of "crap I'm a dad".

Now, it would be a bit weird of course, because he'd see Time being a dad to his descendant and have a bit where he had to figure out his relationship with Legend again, trying to find balance knowing that they're family and thus that he's "supposed to be the adult", but considering Legend's pretty well grown (or at least acts as though he is most of the time), I think, give time, space and a healthy environment, they'd sort of just decide to be friends instead except on the rare occasion where it actually becomes relevant. They're pretty close in age after all, so trying to parent someone only a few years younger would be weird for both of them. Now, if Legend needed a safe person Sky'd jump in, and yeah, he probably gets more defensive and worries ore for Legend than he would have before, because there's no direct responsibility, but I think he'd be okay at not becoming stifling or pushy about it.

I do actually intend to play with this dynamic in the Crown Amidst Courage fic I'm writing, and sort of did the same in the Feathered AU, so I definitely will be releasing content soon for these two (Sky is currently ranking as my #3 and I am getting majorly attached rn LOL)

Thanks for the ask!!!!

[saturnsbabyboii]

💚Astro Observations my friend and I came up with while high💚 (Also Cause it’s 420)

💚I find that Moon signs don’t necessarily fit into their “descriptions” because it’s not who they are per se but rather what they desire when they’re feeling vulnerable and emotional. 

💚 For example, Capricorn Moons aren’t cold, distant and always practical, however, they do desire a more action based kind of support. Rumination and “talking about it” won’t cut it if they don’t have an action plan or something solid (or someone that they considered to be as such) to guide them. 

💚 Another example, Leo Moons aren’t attention seeking but rather they desire to feel seen and heard. They want someone that can understand what they have a hard time expressing, something very troubling for a Leo. They also find themselves able to be more open with people that are authentic about how they feel and their expression, be it verbal or artistic. 

💚 Despite people calling them flighty, Air placements are usually logical and based in reality. They may exaggerate or get too excited but they never pull shit out of vapor or believe it “just because”. Debating them is not for the weak. Not because they’re strongheaded (not always) but because they know what they’re talking about.

💚Earth placements are great liars, cause no one ever suspects them. A good liar is never known as such, hell they make a good living out of it. (Not calling people snakes or fake just that they don’t do something half assed, including the art of deception)

💚 Why couldn’t Cancers be called Lunarians or Lunars? No offense but who in the f thought it was a good idea to call the crab constellation Cancer? The amount of embarrassing cross over that happen means that we require to take action.

❣️Side bar but shout out to everyone that is going through or went through any form of cancer, whether it was you or a loved or anyone that you know. We love and support you, and your resilience is an inspiration and a testament to what’s important in life.❣️ ⠀

💚 The obsession that Aquarius placements have with cyberpunk/cyber core/Dystopian/Apocalyptia/Futuristic aesthetic is wild. They can’t wait until the world end so they can rock that fashion on the dumpster runway.

💚 I honestly associate cats with Virgos not Leos.

💚What’s with Mars in Fire signs/Fire houses (1st/5th/9th) and throwing things. It doesn’t matter if they’re excited, happy, angry or sad they just go ┬─┬ノ( º _ ºノ) then (┛ಠ_ಠ)┛彡┻━┻

💚 Although Scorpios go hard to defend themselves, Taurus would cut a bitch for their love ones. They don’t give a damn what you say about them but you’ll be getting more than what you bargained for when they start swinging out of nowhere after you bring up anyone they love. Especially when it comes to their animals and babies. 

💚 Out of all the Venus signs, I never heard someone talk about liking a Libra Venus. 

💚 Air Mars natives waiting for you to finish talking before they slaughter your ass is amazing to me

💚 Water signs are true foodies. Foodier than Earth signs even. Water in the 6th house especially can eat a whole cow, or tree if you’re vegan.   

💚 The power of the eyebrow raise that Fire Mercuries make when they know that you got the right one. 

💚 Because time is subjective I believe the 12th house can give us insight on our relationship with it. As a finite part of life, in the house final endings the sign over the house (and the placements as well) can help navigate it. 

💚 For example, Virgo in the 12th may catastrophize and worry about things that are out of their control, such as time, and spend so much of their energy trying to do so. Their growth and ascension into a higher state of mind comes in finding power in learning to separate what we can control and what we can’t, and letting life go as intended without much intervention.

💚 For me, the whole point of learning about astrology is to break your own cycle and to grow out of your birth chart rather than conform to it.

💚Libra placements get so tenacious with age. As they get older, they realize that being in the better graces of others is futile work.

That’s all. I think I might’ve had more but I can’t remember everything we talked about 😅. 

Byeee!

[kitramune]

Popping by seeking your thoughts about Chapter 176: Kagome’s Heart, this specifically:

As we know, it’s a major turning point in the story. Kagome asks to stay by Inuyasha’s side, rather than leave him, the feudal era, and the jewel shard mission behind.

Now this is pure speculation, but I like to speculate. What if Kagome had left? Certainly, that’s an entirely different story, but I’m curious what you think may have happened in this scenario.

Some particular questions I have are:

Would Inuyasha have teamed up with Kikyo to try to collect shards and defeat Naraku?

Kagome was the glue that brought the Inugang together. In her absence at /this/ point of the story (the 3 year separation is different), would they have parted? As in, would Miroku, Sango, and Shippo parted ways with Inuyasha if he teamed up with Kikyo (I don’t see her being a fan of traveling with the inugang)? If so, do they fight Naraku in their smaller group, do they survive, etc.

Would Naraku/ the jewel still have been defeated?

Even *if* InuKik defeated Naraku/ the jewel (I don’t think they would have), how does the story end? Kikyo isn’t alive so she.. dies? Achieves nirvana and Inuyasha just.. grieves the rest of his life or joins her in death? I don’t see a happy ending ☹️

Just seeking civil discussion as always not trying to light any fires xD

Oh man, this is a sad one, let me strap in with a depressing yearning/pining playlist. First off, I think this arc shows a LOT of things about both Inuyasha and Kagome's character, good and bad. Mostly good, but perhaps in bad context. Or at least very sad context. I mean we got Inuyasha going from this:

... to this:

(I know this isn't the same arc but bear with me, the character development is there and he has a similar change of heart here, for her emotional wellbeing, not just physical.) The important thing to note is Kikyou wanted to die at this point, and still to take Inuyasha with her.

And Inuyasha's response was this:

So even if it's born out of extreme guilt and trauma, I find it unlikely they would have fought Naraku at all. Kikyou talks a big game, but first chance she gets she is always trying to call Inuyasha to her side strictly to die, never for his help. (At this point.) Inuyasha more than likely would have been coerced to Hell even against his better judgement. Shippou was willing to leave the group once already without Kagome (after the Sess fight, he only came back cuz of the wolves chasing him) and Miroku is used to being a loner vagabond. Who knows what would happen to Shippou but Miroku and Sango would have likely drifted apart, encountered Naraku, and perished, even if they were together tbh. (Let's face it, Sango's pretty helpless against the Kohaku card.) Even Kagome would have been miserable having her tie to Inuyasha go unfulfilled and always regretting not knowing if everyone was still alive and safe or if she left them to their doom. So with that being said, as much as I love this scene as a pure example of her devotion to Inuyasha, there realistically WAS some pressure on her decision. I think she fully knew Kikyou intended to kill Inuyasha and that he couldn't say no because of his vulnerabilities and perceived superior love for her. (That hurts me to say but it's Kagome's POV.) That's why she had the lines about wanting him to feel like he's allowed to be happy and she wants that for him. She feels that normally, yes, but even moreso in the wake of knowing he'll likely forfeit his life. (I think the anime even emphasized this by adding her saying "You have to know that I want you to live." SOMEONE had to show him they care enough or he'd be too far gone.) The beautiful part is that Kagome DID full-on save Inuyasha's life by making her choice. Because she's unsure if she'll be able to help him enough to keep him around forever, but he's shown an uncanny desire to LIVE for her. Which obviously he continues to show again and again, and is my favorite part of their relationship. An outcast so abused and conditioned to it that the first person to care about him tells him to die and he absolutely will. But that outcast learns he wants to live way more, through interacting with unconditional love. I've said it before but Kikyou to me was always a metaphor for Inuyasha's grief and succumbing to the pain, whereas Kagome was always symbolic for a desire to live and be happy again.

[rambosgirl]

First blood rambo, as a husband, where he and the reader helping each other with mental health issues? much love ♥

UUUGGH I love this idea! Thanks for the request <33 I spent so much time on the backstory oopsie

Warnings: mentions of Rambo's PTSD, depiction of depression, loss of parents for reader

Masterlist

We may not be perfect but we're perfect together

Hope was a small town nestled among towering pine trees and rugged mountains. Everyone knew each other in town, and the arrival of strangers was always a topic of conversation for the people. You had always lived there, your parents raising you in the quiet, predictable suburbs in the close-knit community.

All that changed the day he came into town. John Rambo.

You first spotted him walking along the main street in town, his military jacket and sad eyes marking him as someone who had seen too much in his lifetime. The townspeople buzzed with whispers about him, the drifter, especially after Sheriff Teasle confronted and escorted him out of town.

The way the sheriff dealt with drifters wasn't new, but the way you felt about this one was. You sensed there was more to him than met the eye, and you felt genuinely bad for him when the sheriff took him away.

The tranquility of Hope shattered and chaos erupted when news spread about Rambo's arrest and then escape. The manhunt that came next turned the town into a war zone. You returned to your home earlier than expected, as per the sheriff's request. Everyone had. You kept the news on, anxious about the updates it would give. You wanted your home to go back to its peaceful ways, but you also rooted for Rambo, who seemed to be fighting a war within himself. You just hoped he would be okay and that your town would be okay.

The news showed that he eventually turned himself in with the help of his old colonel. You didn't hear much about what happened to him after that, but even months later, you found yourself thinking about him often.

Many months later, through the usual conversation and gossip in the town you learned that Rambo's colonel, named Troutman, convinced the judge to shorten Rambo's sentence. The news was met with mixed reactions in Hope. Some feared he would return, others were indifferent, and some were angry. Angry about the wreck he left behind when he was arrested, and just angry about the war in general. You however, found yourself hoping he would find a fresh start.

Almost a year after the incident, you spotted Rambo again. He had returned to Hope, or rather the outskirts of it. He chose to live in a remote cabin nestled deep within the woods near where he had once escaped and hid.

The townspeople gossiped about his return and Sheriff Teasle made it clear he wasn't happy about it, but he had learned his lesson last time and steered clear of the veteran.

You decided to do the opposite of the sheriff and reach out to him. You didn't really know the reason why you felt the need to know him, but you at least wanted to offer him kindness he probably needed. One afternoon, you gathered your courage and explored into the woods intending to find his cabin, carrying a basket of homemade bread and jam.

His cabin was difficult to find, and you ended up seeing him before you found his home. He was in a clearing, carving something on a piece of wood with his knife. He spotted you when you were a ways away, and you approached him carefully. As you got closer, his eyes scanned you for any sign of threat. But your genuine smile and the simple gesture of bringing food softened his stance.

He accepted the food, a slight nod of appreciation the only sign that he welcomed the gesture. You stood for a moment unsure of what to say.

"I don't usually venture into the woods," you admitted, glancing around at the dense trees that seemed to close in from all sides. "But I thought I thought maybe you could use some company or at least some food," you said, holding your basket up.

His eyes met yours for a brief moment, his expression unreadable, but he didn't seem annoyed by your presence. He didn't say much, just a quiet "Thank you," before returning to the piece of wood in his hands. It was clear he wasn't used to having visitors, and you weren't sure if you were intruding or accompanying.

Feeling awkward, you added "If you ever need anything, I'm usually in town." With that, you turn to leave, the path back feeling longer than the way there.

During your walk, you couldn't shake the feeling that something important had started, even if you didn't fully understand it yet.

Over the next few weeks, you made it a habit to stop by his cabin. Sometimes you brought fresh bread, other times small supplies you thought he might need, like candles or a new set of gloves for the winter. Each time he accepted your offerings with the same quiet acknowledgment and each time the silence between you grew more comfortable.

During this time, the silence started to fade away and turn into small talks with each other. You and John started having short conversations about simple things like the weather, the recipe used for your bread, and your hobbies.

One summer afternoon during your visit, you lingered a bit longer than normal, the conversations flowing in short simple exchanges. You told him about the town, how things had settled back into routine since he returned. He listened, his responses brief but thoughtful.

Then, one week you didn't come. You weren't feeling well, stuck in an endless cycle you knew well. You all but abandoned your personal hygiene, opting to stay in bed or aimlessly wandering your home. You wanted to visit John, but you didn't have the energy to leave your house.

John noticed your absence, but there was nothing he could do about it. He made a mental note to mention it the next time you came. He was surprised just how much he missed having you a part of his routine.

When you came back the next week, John's eyes reflected a flicker of concern as you approached your meeting spot. You were quieter, less cheerful than usual, your smile faint and more tired. He noticed the subtle changes - how your steps lacked their usual lightness and your hair messy as if you just got out of bed.

"Everything okay?" he asked, his voice as low and steady as always, but with an undertone of genuine concern.

You hesitated, not wanting to burden John with your depression and the thoughts that came with it. But then you remembered all he'd gone through, so you thought, maybe he was the one person who wouldn't judge you, but would understand your pain.

I've just hit a tough patch," you admitted, your eyes glued to the ground. "Sometimes it's like this. It's hard to get out of bed to do anything, really. That's why I didn't come last week."

John nodded, looking in the distance like he was deep in thought. For a long moment neither of you spoke, the silence filled with the sounds of the forest around you.

After what felt like an eternity, he spoke again, his voice almost a whisper.

"I get it," he said, his words simple but heavy with meaning. "Sometimes it gets difficult for me too."

You looked up at him, surprised by the admission. You knew that he had been through so much during the war and after, but it was the first time he opened up to you about anything personal and you realize how much trust he was placing in you by sharing even that small piece of himself.

From that day on, your visits felt different - more significant, more connected. You continued to confide in him about your struggle with depression, and told him about the dark days when getting out of felt impossible and the constant battle to find joy and meaning in life.

John opened up more about his past - his time in the war, the friends he had lost, and the nightmares that still plagued him.

Soon, the relationship between the two of you started to change for the better. You started to visit him more, and he even started coming into town to visit you. Before long, the two of you were inseparable.

Many of the townspeople began to accept his presence, now seeing him as less of a threat and more as one of them. Mitch, the young redhead deputy, reached out to John, and soon another friendship blossomed.

During this time, your and John's relationship started to become romantic. He would take you on casual dates at different cafes in town, the library, and John's personal favorite - hiking. It didn't take long for the both of you to know that you wanted to be together forever.

One evening, under the stars near his cabin, John asked you to marry him. He didn't have a ring or a rehearsed speech. Just a simple heartfelt question. You said yes without hesitation, knowing that despite your imperfections you were perfect for each other.

When it came time for your wedding day, everything was perfect. You were in a simple but beautiful dress, and John was in a freshly pressed suit. You both picked a beautiful clearing in the woods, and you invited a few close friends to witness. Mitch was the best man, a few of your close friends were bridesmaids, and John's closest friend, Trautman came all the way out to marry the two.

The ceremony took place at sunset, the golden light filtering through the trees as you exchanged rings and vows. John's voice was steady as he looked into your eyes.

"We may not be perfect," he said, "but together, we're stronger and better."

As the night went on, you did typical wedding things, like cutting the little cake made by your mom's old bakery, and tossing your bouquet to your group of friends.

Trautman offered his hand to you after the bouquet toss. You looked at him, confused.

"For a father-daughter dance," he said, taking your hand. "You're family now."

You teared up as you danced. You hoped that your parents would make it to your wedding, but they passed away a few years ago.

As the dance ended, you thanked Trautman, feeling a warmth in your heart you haven't felt in a long time. The loss of your parents had left a void, but today, surrounded by friends and the man you loved, you felt pure joy.

As the evening continued, your friends slowly began to go home, leaving you and John in the last light of the setting sun. The clearing was quiet now, the soft home of the forest filling the air.

"Would you dance with me?" You asked in a hushed tone. You knew John wasn't one for grand gestures, but he looked at you, his expression softening before he nodded and gently took your hand in his.

There was no music for you to dance to, just the sounds of the wildlife in the forest. You laid your head against his chest as the stars started peeking out in the sky. You listen to his heartbeat while his arms wrapped around you, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else existed but the two of you dancing in the woods.

"I never thought I'd have this," he murmured his voice low and filled with emotion. "A home, a family...you."

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. "You deserve it, John. We deserve it."

He smiled a rare, genuine smile and leaned down to press his lips against your forehead.

"Let's go home," he said softly.

He led you to the cabin you knew so well and started a fire in the fireplace. You sat by each other in the familiar comfortable silence you often shared.

As you sat together, you thought about the best day of your life that you just lived, about the vows you just made.

"We may not be perfect, but together we're stronger and better."

Those words echoed in your mind, I promise not just for today, but for every day that followed.

Married life was peaceful and happy with John, but the both of you still had your hard days. With each other, you were able to cope a little better and heal more with time.

The woods surrounding the cabin were quiet, the moon' glow filtering through the curtains and casting patterns of light onto the wood walls.

John suddenly woke up drenched in sweat and disoriented. He sat up carefully, trying to catch his breath while keeping you undisturbed. He looked over at your sleeping figure, your face relaxed and serene, framed by the moon's glow. The rise and fall of your chest was steady, a soothing rhythm that starkly contrasted with his erratic, fear-driven breathing.

He didn't want to wake you, he knew you had your own internal battles and needed to rest. He reached for a glass of water sitting on the nightstand, his movements deliberate and quiet, hoping that it might calm his nerves.

But the effort to keep still was in vain. You stirred sensing the disturbance in your sleep. Your eyes flooded open, and you noticed John sitting up and the haunted looking his eyes.

"John?" you whispered, "are you okay?"

"It's nothing," he reassured. "Just a bad dream."

You sat up, your hand reaching out to touch his arm. "You don't have to go through this alone," you said gently. "Let me help."

The weight of your words sat on his mind for a moment. He'd been fighting his trauma on his own and building walls for so long, he was still getting used to letting you in.

He leaned his head on your shoulder as you spoke again. "Was this a nightmare or a memory?"

"Memory."

An involuntary tear slipped down his cheek.

"It's over now, you're safe here," you whispered to him

John felt himself begin to relax, your words overcoming the fear his mind fed him. He pulled you into a hug and laid back down.

"What would I do without you?" John whispered.

"You'll never have to find out."

[ragingadhd]

Will and Alyss are trans here’s my essay

We talk a lot about how funny it is that Flanagan unintentionally wrote the gayest love story between Halt and Crowley in TEY, but holy shit we don’t talk enough about how he also managed to accidentally write the two most trans characters ever.

Alyss and Will being trans is a semi-popular headcanon that’s been in the fandom for ages now, but I haven’t seen many people really dive into why this headcanon is so prevalent. I think that partially has to do with the fact that, like any lgbtq+ identity, it’s pretty difficult to clock someone as trans without relying on trans stereotypes. Really, any character in the RA series could be trans if you chose to believe it since being trans doesn’t look any certain way. That being said, I do think there are some pretty clear qualities and experiences that Will and Alyss have that feel very close to my own experience with being transgender.

Physical appearance is usually the first thing people point out/notice when talking about this headcanon. Will is short, more so than one might expect from a cis man. Alyss is taller than most men and also has a deep voice. I have mixed feelings about people pointing to this as the only reason they think they’re trans. I mean, it makes enough sense for it to be the only reason since one part of being trans is the fact that one’s body doesn’t match their gender identity. What I don’t like about that being the only reason is that there’s so much more to the trans identity and experience than “body don’t match :(“

But that’s the cool thing about Will and Alyss, their physical appearance effects their perception of themselves the same way it does for a trans person (or a cis person really, but it feels much more prevalent in trans people). In the first book, Will is clearly uncomfortable with his height; almost any time it’s brought up, he replies with “I haven’t had my growth spurt yet”, almost defensively. Then, as Will becomes more comfortable with who he is, you can see it bother him less and less. I love this bc it’s exactly what happened with my dysphoria as I transitioned. The more I got to know myself and discover myself, the less my dysphoria bothered me.

As for Alyss, she is so clearly so confident with her appearance. She never tries to hide her height or voice. Although we don’t get to see her journey with those qualities, the way she’s so confident feels like something the earned. It’s something she maybe used to feel insecure about, then decided she gets to decide what femininity means to her. Her height and voice contribute to her elegance and femininity rather than contradict them.

Another thing about Will is his name and how it relates to his identity. I know Flanagan didn’t intend for any of this to be some trans allegory, but goddamn can I relate my trans experience to it. Will grew up without a last name, and you can see how deeply that effects him. It wasn’t just that he was “Will no-name”, he was missing a part of his identity. Hell, he said verbatim “at least you know who you are” to a fucking owl because he felt so confused and unheard (which btw is the most edgy teen thing he ever did).

Though you can see this missing part of his identity bother him less as he gained a support system, it’s still clear that he felt like something was missing. If he didn’t feel like something was missing, he wouldn’t have been so incredibly happy when he became “Will Treaty”. And when he got his last name, you can tell he’s proud, not because he finally has an identity, but because he finally has a name to match the identity he’s spent so long discovering and cultivating. He no longer expresses any sadness or grief that he doesn’t have his father’s last name, because he doesn’t need it to know who he is. He’s Will Treaty, and he’s perfectly happy with being exactly that. This is the most trans-coded naming experience holy shit.

Anyway that’s all I have to say about this (for now at least). Go give your local trans friend a kiss.

[envyenvys]

The thing about stobin is that they only work as well as they do because Robin was originally supposed to be Steve’s love interest, rather than in spite of it.

Like, what do we love about them?

They’re each other’s best friend

They’re incredibly co-dependent

They can basically read each other’s minds

They’re together so often that you can essentially treat them as one entity

They have genuine moments of emotion

These are all things that are par for the course when it comes to writing romantic relationships. You see it with Jon and Nancy (though not quite to the same level, they don’t have the Stobin Mind Meld) where they’re also each other’s best and only friend, and they also do almost everything together, and most of their genuine moments of emotion are with each other or with family.

Stobin don’t have any family or friends, because Steve’s family just doesn’t exist for some reason, and Robin was introduced to fill his empty friend slot after the stoncy divorce. Robin doesn’t have any either, because why would they flesh out a backstory for Steve’s New Girlfriend when they need to spend all their screentime establishing a believable romance?

So what we end up with is the bones of a romance that they have to hastily cover with the skin of a friendship, and they’ve already laid all that groundwork so they can’t exactly start backpedaling now.

That’s why stobin are mostly comic relief when they’re allowed to be together in s4 btw, they genuinely don’t know what to do with them now bc they didn’t intend for their relationship to be platonic (surely there’s no interesting room for growth in a close platonic relationship, that would be silly). Steve still doesn’t have a love interest, which is catastrophic for a fan favourite main character (bc amatonormativity dictates that being single is a Bad Ending and they can’t give him a Bad Ending, he can’t be punished by the narrative when he’s supposed to be finished his redemption arc) which is why he was shoehorned back with Nancy (bc they didn’t have the space to add another character just to be his love interest). (Robin gets a hint of Vickie bc denying their only explicitly canon gay character a ‘happy ending’ (read: romantic relationship) is also Very Bad, both narratively and optics-wise)

Basically, if they’d started out with the intention of making Robin Steve’s friend rather than his girlfriend, well, for one she wouldn’t exist. But secondly they’d be a lot less close than they are now. They’d be more like what we see in s4: a comedy duo, except without the same level of emotion and intimacy behind all their interactions. They literally wouldn’t have been allowed to get that close, because the number one spot in Steve’s life would’ve been reserved for his girlfriend, because again: amatonormativity dictates your romantic partner is your first priority and your most important relationship. Robin got that spot through a miracle and some gay trickery, and I for one will always be grateful.

I’m probably not the first person to mention any of this, but I’ve been thinking a lot about platonic relationships in media recently, and a lot about stobin specifically. It’s kind of sad that one of the best examples of a close platonic relationship I can think of is just a romantic relationship in a wig, but I’ll take what I can get (and god I love them anyway).

[softie-rain]

Step On Me

Part II - The President

Pairing: Sejanus Plinth/Coriolanus Snow

Summary: “Aren't you going to tell me when you fell in love with me?” Sejanus asked with a pout. Coriolanus froze. When did Coriolanus fell in love with Sejanus? Was he ever even in love with him in the first place? Coriolanus thought he had to be, at least at some point, because how else would he explain the way Sejanus was still haunting him after all those years?

Notes: woo new chapter! This one isn't happy but it's less sad than the first one. (I'd argue the ending is. Blame Scott Street) We have a song reference in this one too, let me know if you spot it (:

chapter: 2/7 (weekly updates!) prev. chapter

read it on ao3 here

The second time Coriolanus saw Sejanus, it was two weeks after he won the elections. 

Years had passed since his times as a peacekeeper in District 12, Lucy Gray Baird now only living in the furthest abyss of his mind, no one had memory of her in the Capitol, or in the other Districts. If they even knew about her in the first place. 

He had made sure to outshine the 10th Hunger Games by working hard as a gamemaker under Dr. Gaul during the following Games. His ideas had brought new interest to them, thanks to the addition of mutts and traps all around the newly rebuilt arena. His first edition as a gamemaker, right after Lucy Gray’s games, won by the girl from District 4, was probably the one he was the most disappointed by. The only reason being that everything was still in the projecting phase, and those goddamn drones still caused trouble.

But now, five years later, as he sat at his desk in his office in the Presidential Palace, he truly felt at home. It stung that Tigris was colder to him lately, sometimes he sensed some lack of support on her side. But she was still his cousin, and he knew they’d be together till the end, no matter what.

“President Snow?” Cassia, his secretary, knocked at his door. Although president for just a few weeks, Coriolanus was already used to the title. It felt familiar, like it was meant to be. Everything he deserved, was finally his. 

“Yes?” He responded. His secretary appeared behind the door, holding a plate of cookies. 

“Ms. Plinth passed by, she brought these for you. She also told me to tell you they’re inviting you over for dinner, her and her husband.” She said, leaving the cookies on his desk. Coriolanus observed them and nodded. He knew Strabo had a terminal illness, he wouldn't give him more than over one week of life. He assumed the dinner was Ma’s idea for Coriolanus to say goodbye. 

He considered it pathetic, but he had to go anyway. What impression would he give to the people of Panem if it got known that President Snow hadn't been by Strabo Plinth’s side, a man who had given him everything and considered him a second son, in the moment of his final breath?

“I will. Thank you, Cassia.” He said, grabbing one cookie to try it. He noticed Cassia was still standing in front of him, looking rather uncomfortable. “You can go now.” He added.

“She’s still here. She’s insisting on seeing you. I know you said you don’t want to be disturbed at any hour today but-” 

“Then you already know what to tell her. Go.” Coriolanus stated, more angry than he intended. Cassia bit her lip and nodded, quickly exciting the office and closing the door behind her. 

Coriolanus sighed and leaned back on his chair, passing his hand through his hair. He gave another bite to the cookie, quietly moaning at the taste. Ma’ Plinth might have been a sad pathetic woman (even more so as she aged), but her cooking was still as delicious as ever. 

“Coriolanus Snow, President of Panem.” Coriolanus almost choked on the cookie upon hearing the voice. He immediately got up, looking around the room. Like that night of many years ago Sejanus appeared in the corner. He was leaning on the wall right next to the window, observing Coriolanus. “I always knew you were going to get far. Even before the Academy, I would look at you and think ‘Man, this kid will do big things.’”

Sejanus was talking to him with an admiring tone, sounding almost proud of him, as if he was his mother. And, to be fair, it wasn’t far off from what Ma’ had told Coriolanus right after he was nominated President. The boy walked over to him and sat on his desk, looking at the cookies. “Can I? It’s been ages since I’ve eaten one.”

Without responding Coriolanus nodded. Sejanus leaned forward to grab one and as he did so Coriolanus took a good look at his neck. The bruises of the rope were still there, as fresh as ever, like the hanging day had been just the day before, as if no time had passed at all. 

“You seem surprised to see me.” 

Coriolanus raised an eyebrow surprised, gesturing to Sejanus. “Shouldn't I be?”

Sejanus shrugged and shifted on the desk, sitting with his legs crossed. “I visited you once already.” 

“Yeah, when I was nineteen.”

“And now you’re twenty four! Where did the time go? You look just as handsome though. Maybe even a bit more now.” Sejanus leaned in, winking at him. Coriolanus felt himself lightly blush and immediately shook his head, trying to recompose himself.

“And you look just as dead.” Coriolanus bit back, ignoring the effect Sejanus still had on him. When was he going to grow out of his stupid crush? He had finally realized and admitted to himself that he liked Sejanus years ago now, not shortly after his first post-death visit actually, and he thought he was over it. So why did he still make him act like he was twelve again, blushing for a compliment or for the slightest sign of affection by his side?

It made him feel weak, powerless. All that time and Sejanus still had such a strong hold on him. It made him wonder of his time in District 12, how Sejanus had always had that effect on him. Was all the power he felt over the boy just an illusion? Obviously not, or he wouldn’t have sent the recording to Dr. Gaul.

“I’m glad to see the guilt isn’t eating you alive anymore.” Sejanus said, sounding sincere. Coriolanus hated him. 

“It’s not.”

“Good. You look happy now.” He said, tilting his head. “Are you?”

Coriolanus frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You tell me, I asked the question.”

“Well, I am.” Coriolanus replied, shifting on his chair and crossing his arms. “So no need for you to be here.” He dismissed him, waving his hand at him.  

“I'm not your secretary Coryo, you can't just tell me to leave.” Sejanus said, as if it was a matter of fact. “I didn't decide to be here, you know?”

“Right, because my mind made you up, or whatever.” Coriolanus said, rolling his eyes, leaning his elbow on the desk and resting his hand on his palm. 

“That's one rational explanation, yes. Or maybe I'm a spirit and I lied to you.” Sejanus said in a neutral tone, crossing his legs on Coriolanus’ desk. 

The blonde boy frowned as the other's shoes dirty the surface and then looked up at him again. Sejanus was staring down at him smiling, and Coriolanus found himself missing his curly hair. Truly it had been a shame he died with his head shaved. He would have loved to see his hair one more time. 

Coriolanus had given up on trying to find a rational explanation for Sejanus’ first apparition, and he wasn't certainly going to start trying to find one for the second. 

Coriolanus cleared his throat and gestured around himself. “So you're proud of what I achieved?” He asked, smiling proudly. “Pretty great, isn't it?” 

Sejanus grimaced. “You did big things, that's for sure. But great? I wouldn't say that.” He said, sadness in his voice.

Coriolanus couldn't say he was surprised, though he felt disappointed. He expected Sejanus to congratulate him on what he'd done, but after all he knew his morals: Sejanus could have never been happy for Coriolanus when all he had done was making the tributes’ lives even more miserable. But he had also come up with the idea of the Winners Village in every district, and what about the money for the winners? Also Coryo's idea. Couldn't Sejanus for once be content with the lesser evil? 

“Well, I didn’t ask for your approval.”

“Yeah, I assumed you didn't when you turned me in.” Sejanus said laughing, as if he had just made the funniest joke. 

Tigris would call him resentful and here he had Sejanus still holding grudges of something that happened almost six years ago. 

Coriolanus scoffed and looked down at the documents he was examining before he got interrupted by Cassia, ignoring Sejanus’ eyes on him. He felt the boy shift next to him. Sejanus got up and started pacing the room, observing his surroundings. “Oh, look at this! It's beautiful! And fancy.” He said, pointing at the portrait they made of Coriolanus on his second day as President. 

Although Coriolanus hadn't exactly been euphoric to pose for that painting, he had to admit it was rather flattering to have it in his office. Every time he looked at it, every time anyone looked at his portrait could recognize the power Snow held. The hard and proud look he was represented with did him justice, so much that his secretary and most of his employees would on purpose avoid the painting when they entered the room. In Coriolanus’ eyes it was perfect: feared and respected by everyone.

But Sejanus was standing there, quietly, with his hands crossed behind his back, observing the painting with a smile on his face.

“I like it. Except for the eyes, they don't do you justice.”

Coriolanus scowled, trying not to snap at Sejanus. “Why so?” 

Sejanus turned to face his Coriolanus and his smile widened. “Yours are much more blue.” He told him, looking at him with those lovesick brown orbs Coriolanus worshiped. 

“Did I ever tell you when I realized I was in love with you?” Sejanus asked, walking up to Coriolanus. Coriolanus shook his head no.

“I'm afraid you died before you could.” He replied sarcastically.

Sejanus nodded. “Ah. True. Well, we have time now don't we?” He said excitedly, jumping on the desk again. Coriolanus sighed and pushed his papers aside, knowing it was useless to even just try and tell Sejanus to go away.

“We were fifteen.” He started, looking up. Coriolanus didn't know if it was to avoid his look, but his own eyes were fixated on Sejanus’ face.

“I've always known I liked you, since I first saw you. You looked so adorable, with those rosy cheeks and blonde curls!”

Sejanus smiled widely, and Coriolanus couldn't help but lightly blush at the thought of the Plinth boy being head over heels for him at such a young age, complimenting him like that. 

He also found himself getting used to the odd happiness and calm that seemed to be characteristics of post mortem Sejanus.

“Anyway, this day in particular we were at school,” He kept going, “And Festus was talking behind my back. I mean, I could perfectly hear him. I'm not sure if he meant for me to hear or not, actually. I never thought about it.” Sejanus commented, more to himself than to Coriolanus. 

Coriolanus rolled his eyes and cleared his throat, gesturing Sejanus to go on. 

“As I was saying, Festus was making fun of me. And then he said, I remember this clearly as if it was yesterday: ‘I think he should be repead for the next Games. That way he'd learn his place!’” Coriolanus gulped. He could see the hurt on Sejanus’ face. So many years had passed and he was clearly still affected by it. He wasn't sure if he could blame Sejanus (or accusing him of being pathetic) for that, though he usually would.

Even to Coriolanus, with that comment Festus had overstepped a line. 

“I remember running away, trying not to cry. Which I did, eventually, but only when I got to the bathroom. Which is when you found me.” Sejanus said, pointing at Coriolanus. 

“You knocked at the stall where I was hiding and asked me if I was alright. I lied, said I was fine.” Sejanus let out a laugh and shook his head. “You knew I was lying. So you insisted and kept knocking, until I opened the door and got out. And that's when I saw them.” 

Coriolanus frowned, confused. “Saw what?” 

“Ocean blue eyes, looking in mine. I felt like I might sink and drown, and die.” He replied, staring at Coryo. “You saw me crying and hugged me, no questions asked. Your hand touched mine, and that's when I knew. That I was utterly and desperately in love with you.” 

Coriolanus remembered that day. He had immediately followed Sejanus because he had assumed he had gone crying. Assumption that was confirmed when he heard the sobs in the bathroom. Truthfully he had rolled his eyes and sighed before knocking on the door, getting annoyed when Sejanus pretended to be fine. 

When he finally came out of the bathroom the site before Coriolanus was pretty pathetic: Sejanus had red and puffy eyes, he kept sniffing with his lips parted, how could he say he was fine when he looked like that?

The hug seemed like the only rational option to Coriolanus to put Sejanus out of his misery, an act of mercy. Apparently it had meant much more to him than Snow thought. Still, he didn’t see any reason to break the news to the boy, so he didn’t say anything about it.

“You’re welcome?” He said instead, which sounded more as a question than a statement. At least it earned a laugh from Sejanus. 

The Plinth boy kept staring at him lovingly without saying anything, and Coriolanus was starting to feel rather uncomfortable. He went back to study his documents, clearing his throat trying to stop his voice from breaking when he spoke. “Well now that you’ve told me your sob story you can leave, right?” 

His voice was cold, he had already shown his weak side to Sejanus last time, he wasn’t going to repeat the scene once more. Although he would have loved to feel the warmth of his hugs one more time. He despised that feeling, the one he always had around Sejanus, of caring, of attachment. Why couldn't he let him go? Why was it so hard, if he wanted to so badly?

“Aren't you going to tell me when you fell in love with me?” Sejanus asked with a pout. 

Coriolanus froze. When did Coriolanus fall in love with Sejanus? Was he ever even in love with him in the first place? Coriolanus thought he had to be, at least at some point, because how else would he explain the way Sejanus was still haunting him after all those years?

But when, that was very blurry.

He never really thought about it and even now, he didn't think there was a specific moment. In Coriolanus’ eyes Sejanus had just always been there, and the blonde's feelings just kept swinging back and forth from hatred to love. Whether said affection was platonic or romantic had never been the main focus of Coryo, who simply would try and go on with life fighting the urge to either slap or kiss some sense into Sejanus.

Uh.

Maybe the feelings had never been platonic.

Either way, he wasn't going to tell Sejanus any of that.

“Do you really want me to go?” Sejanus finally asked, tilting his head. 

He didn't seem upset or sad about it, it was a simple genuine question. One to which Coriolanus didn't know the answer to. “Yes.” He replied, looking down at his papers. But was it really what he wanted? What he needed? 

“But I'm assuming you won't listen to me will you?” He added looking up, only to find out he was once again alone, as he had always been for the past five years.

He went back to write notes on the documents, pushing away in the deep bottom of his mind the feeling of longing for Sejanus. 

In his head he could hear an echo, that he desperately ignored, and that sounded too much like Sej.

“Anyway, don't be a stranger.” 

[oph3liatlou]

Could you write an angsty Joel Miller x wife!reader were they have an argument and it's all abgsty and Joel yells at her and says mean things that make the reader cry and lock herself away. His words just break her completely emotionally like she'll become just a shell of herself for the next days or week and does nothing only stares out the window quietly and in thought and doesn't speak a single thing to Joel.

Make him see all this change in behavior of the reader and suffer and cry for making reader so sad.

Sorry English is not my first language but please make a happy ending 🙏🏽

— O’ CHILDREN

pairing(s); angry!joel miller x hurt/wife!female reader

wordcount; 1.2k words

warnings; angst, arguing/yelling, emotional breakdown!reader, mention of kids, swearing, happy ending.

proofread?; yess

note from author; first fix of the year, has to be MY HUSBAND!!!! & the accent makes me weak in my knees EVERYTIME!!!!

summary; you want to add to your future with joel but, he’s afraid to take that step. The possibility of losing someone else hurts too much.

You and Joel had been sitting on the couch, snuggling and watching a movie - something of which you couldn't remember the name. The past few weeks were rather difficult, you two had been talking about having children. Joel was 100% against the idea, and it was frustrating you that there was no communication. You stood from the couch to get a glass of water - hoping that would distract your thoughts.

Joel sat up immediately, causing the remote to fall off the couch. He groaned when he picked it back up to set it on the couches armrest. “Ar’ you alright darlin’?” He asked, with genuine concern. You took a sip of your water to calm yourself down. Your thoughts had been racing with the topic of children, you knew you wanted them - even in the apocalypse. But you also knew where Joel stood with that idea. You didn't want to start an argument but - you didn't want to lie to him either, when answering his question. “Not really.”

Joel sighed gently and got up to walk into the kitchen. He furrowed his brow and placed his hands on your shoulders gently. “What’s wrong?” He asked. You look up at him, shaking your head. “It’s going to start an argument.” You firmly stated.

Joel sighed softly, knowing the answer before you even said it. “It’s the kids thin’ again, isn't it?” You scoffed looking at him. His reaction wasn't handled well. “You say that like it's a bad thing.” Joel rolled his eyes. “It’ really that hard for you t’ understan’? We're not in a good enoug’ situation to have ‘em.”

You laughed, in more of a sarcastic way than intended. “We're never going to be in a good situation. Is that too hard for you to understand?” You mocked him, out of anger. Joel scowled at you, as you could feel his anger rising. You were pushing his buttons. “Don’t you dare get smart with me. Ya know damn’ well I'm right.”

You shake you're head at him again. “Well, I'm so sorry that I wanted to have a conversation about our future.” You moved past him towards the couch again. “Our future don’t involve kids.” He spat out. He had given no wiggle room, no room for you to even argue your point. “What ar’ we gonna’ do? Have a baby, fight infected an’ then take it t’ daycare?” He mocked you. “Gimme’ a break.”

You clenched your jaw as you got back off the couch, as quickly as you had sat on it mere seconds before. You turned on your heel, with tears fighting to fall. You weren't even mad about not having a baby - you were mad that he wouldn't even try to talk to you calmly about the situation . “I’m going to bed.”

“Fine.” He said, not even turning to face you. “You wanna keep bitchin’ and moanin’ - pushin’ everythin’ to the edge like you always do. Fine. Go sleep it off.” He was fed up with the conversation and he made it bluntly obvious. You glared at him on the stairs, tears now spilling. “Are you fucking kidding me?” You muttered and walked up the stairs, shutting the bedroom door. Joel flopped onto the couch with a loud sigh, his face buried in his hands. He felt like a real ass for making you upset, but he didn't want to make the concession of saying so. He kept himself occupied with his thoughts, the guilt eating at his gut.

You slammed the door as tears fell from your eyes, you threw one of the pillows from your shared bed at the wall. Joel rubbed his temples as he heard you slam the door slam shut. He knew he should go talk to you, make things right…but maybe he should just let it blow over? The seemed like the better option.

︒✯⋅

You had been locked away in your bedroom for the night, and even part of the next morning - the only time you went downstairs, was to get food. Joel was up early, and the coffee he brewed was filling the house with the a pungent scent. He waited patiently for you to walk in the kitchen, if you would even come downstairs.

You hadn't slept that night, not after the arguing. You made your way downstairs, having smelt the coffee from the comfort of your warm bed. Your eyes were bloodshot and tear stained when you shuffled into the kitchen to grab your mug. You didn't say a word.

Joel looked at you, his hazel eyes trying to find yours. His expression was stoic, giving you no hint of his thoughts. But you could tell that he was feeling guilty. “Didn’t sleep well?” he asked, taking a sip of his own coffee. You poured your own coffee in silence.

Joel noticed you didn't respond, not that he expected less. “I was kinda a dick last night, wasn't I?” You still didn't respond as you turned to lean your waist on the counter. “I should've acted mor’ maturely. I was jus’ frustrated, is all.” Joel said, hoping that you would say something…anything.

You looked at him over your mug. “I'm not even upset with the fact that you don't want kids,” you started. “I'm upset that you don't communicate calmly with me.”

Joel sighed, not wanting to admit his fault. “Maybe I have a temper I should work on.” He paused. “It’s jus’ that ya won't let it go.”

You took a moment to collect your thoughts before speaking. “I'm sorry for pushing it.” You added. “I just want to experience a normal life with you - something we don't have often.” You put your mug down behind you and stepped forward. “I love you, you know?”

Joel couldn't help but smile at that. You loved him, and he loved you. “I know ya do, I love ya too.” He walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you against him. You sighed into his chest. Your eyes were still red and puffy from a night of crying, but being in Joel’s arms again made you feel calmer. “No kids then?” You tried to joke lightly.

Joel laughed softly, rubbing your back. “No kids.” He kissed your forehead, then spoke again. “Besides - what makes ya think we'd be good parents? Can hardly cook a decent dinner.” This comment made you chuckle, and you needed one after the night you had. “You’re the one eating all the ravioli cans.” You teased before yawning, the lack of sleep catching up to you.

He laughed, looking at you softly. “Ya should get some sleep, ya look like hell.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at him. “And here I thought you'd tell me how beautiful I am - at least after an argument.” You wrapped your arms around him and kissed his cheek. “Let’s both go to sleep, the couch must've been uncomfortable.”

Joel chuckled again, taking your comment as the teasing it was. “Sorry, but ya look like a mess.” He teased, caressing your face lovingly. He took hold of your hand and led you up the stairs to your shared room - falling right on the bed next to you.

read my merged works here!

[hauntingofhouses]

Hiii, I've got an ask for you 🫣

What is the most interesting end for Mizu in your opinion and if you could guess, what do you think the writers will do?

1. Doomed by the narrative all the way (her story starts sad and ends in a even bigger inevitable tragedy)

2.She gets what she wants but will never find true happiness (maybe lose someone she loves in the way)

3.Gets what she wants and finds contentment and even happiness.

Secret fourth opition?

Hope you are well😁

Hiiiii <3 <3

OOOH this is an interesting one, and right out the gate I would 100% immediately choose Option 3 here, which is that Mizu gets what she wants and finds happiness and contentment.

Now I am a SUCKER for tragedy and bittersweet endings, they are soooo juicy like don't get me wrong (the novel manuscript I'm working on is literally a doomed-by-the-narrative type story!) but in my opinion, though all stories can be tragedies, not all stories necessarily should be.

This is because a story's ending, and what makes an ending satisfactory, is heavily reliant on the promise that it sets at the very beginning.

A narrative promise is essentially what the story is telling us to expect when we start the first episode or read the first chapter or click the start button on a game. As such, the promise is usually given to us in two primary ways.

First is the story's tone. What sort of language does it use? What sort of art direction does it employ? Its music, its camera angles?

In BES, the story starts off with some dynamic long shots of Mizu walking with her back turned to the camera through the snow, the wind whooshing and dramatic music in the background, while words fade in and out on the screen:

In 1633, Japan closed its borders to the outside world. Citizens would never see a white face, nor any face that was not Japanese. A child born mixed race would be considered less than human. Pitiable. Monstrous. From these times rose a legend. Of a swordsman. Of a sword. Of revenge.

The music ends in an epic crescendo. Cue title screen.

From the above line, we can already see that the tone is that of a dramatic, epic, action-filled story about revenge. From that first scene, we see Mizu's confrontation with Hachi, and from this we already see the promise that this is a heavily-stylised action martial arts series that will be violent and gritty.

On that note, its fight sequences also follow video game logic a lot of times, and overallm a lot of things are not very realistic or necessarily 100% historically-accurate. This, together with a lot of casual dialogue and humour littered throughout, makes it a story that doesn't take itself too seriously. It's rather blockbuster-ish in that sense, and while very well written and rife with beautiful imagery, symbolism, and nuanced characters and themes, it is not intended to be high literary work by any means.

And while Mizu's backstory is indeed very tragic, the story we see in the present is very tonally different, chock-full of one liners and silly lines (thank you, Ringo and Taigen, my silly boys, for that) as well as flashy action scenes and montages set to rock music. The tonal shift between the past and present stories is also in part what makes The Tale of the Ronin and the Bride stand out so prominently among the 8 episodes.

Besides the tone, a story also delivers its the promise through its character arc, which is presented to the audience by showing us a variety of things related to the protagonist, such as:

what the character is missing in their life: for Mizu, it is love and acceptance;

their desires: revenge, because as we see from her backstory, she has been unable to obtain love/acceptance;

what's preventing them from achieving it: Mizu adamantly believes that she is a monster who is not capable of loving or being loved, and this is why she pushes Ringo and Taigen away in present day;

and their flaws: Mizu is stubborn, narrow-minded, and is driven purely by hate and anger. Taigen tells the viewers this very clearly in Ep7 when he says she's killing Fowler "Not for honour. For hate." And also in Ep8 when he says to Ringo, "Mizu doesn't care about anyone but himself and his revenge." Mizu's "ember" is her anger and desire for vengeance.

Thus, from all this, we can come to a conclusion that the show's promise is something along the lines of

Mizu gets her revenge +

Mizu unlearns her self-hatred and stops letting her anger be the only thing guiding her +

Mizu stops running from people who care about her so she can finally get the love and acceptance she's always craved.

IMO, only by fulfilling all three of these promises would the story have a satisfying payoff.

Whether the revenge will be directed to the white men, though, is up for debate, as there are a lot of theories going around that maybe the white men aren't as evil as she thought and none of them are even her fathers, that Mizu's true enemy is Lady Itoh and the shogunate, etc. The third point, regarding love and acceptance, is also a point of discourse, because we don't know who she'll end up with, or if she'll end up with anyone romantically at all, whereby the story opts to make it an open ending focusing on platonic/found-family bonds rather than any romantic one.

Whatever the case, it doesn't necessarily matter, and I'm open to pretty much all directions the writers may take us as long as SOME revenge is achieved, blood is spilled, colonisers get their dues, AND Mizu gets to be loved and happy.

BUT if you ask me for my ideal version of that payoff... I think it's no surprise to anyone when I say I want Mizu to live a nice peaceful and secluded life, in which all her past adventures fade into myth and legend (as implied in the opening text).

Because while I'm almost certain Mizu is related to some royal or important bloodline, I don't think Mizu would find happiness in a life in the palace. She has never wanted greatness, has never even hinted at wanting power or anything like it. She craves belonging and the freedom to be herself, and to be loved for all her flaws and dualities. These are things she needs to grow and be a better person as well. A life of politics and intrigue inherent in being a royal heir, or in being a samurai loyal to the shogunate (even if it is under Akemi's future administration) would offer no such freedom or sense of peace for Mizu.

So yeah! Peace and quiet and happiness, maybe living on a farm like she did with Mikio. But of course that life wouldn't mean anything if she were to live it alone, because remember she wants and needs love and belonging. As such, I think the one most suited to give her that would be Taigen (for a variety of reasons).

This life could be with or without their bestie Ringo, depending on if Ringo decides to travel and find his own greatness, and it is implied that Ringo does leave Mizu's side to go on his own adventures, as hinted by the creators wanting a spin-off centered around him.

And also Mizu and Taigen go to visit their mutual ex-girlfriend Akemi sometimes for like special occasions or something.

I hope that answered your question, and thank you so much for the ask!! <3 <3 And on that note, my inbox is open for more if anyone else would like to pick my brain about this show, or anything else for that matter really. I may take a while to answer them considering how in-depth I like to go on these, but I love getting any and all these asks regardless :)

[wildflower-otome]

[Translation] Cupid Parasite -Sweet & Spicy Darling- ~ Allan Melville After Story

Source: S&S Wedding Note - His and my Wedding Note (Otomate Sweet Box Bonus Booklet)

Allan Melville - Sweet & Spicy End After Story - First-time Sick Nursing

Note: Major spoilers for Allan's Sweet & Spicy End below.

After seeing the children off as they got onto the bus to go to summer camp, Lynette and I returned to the house.

My wife, and our precious children. Some years had passed since we had become a family of four. The children were growing up well, free to study and run around and play, watched over by the familiar I had created from low-level demons. And now this year they were off on summer camp for the holidays.

From today, she and I would be on our own for a week. So that we could spend it together, I had finished up my work in the demon realm and wrestled a week’s vacation for myself.

Truth be told, I had been looking forward to spending time with just the two of us for the first time in a while. Of course, the time we spent together as four was precious to me. Still, this was a different kind of happiness.

‘.....Hey, Lynette. It’s been a while, why don’t we go a date?’

When I asked her, her face lit up and she nodded.

‘Yeah, of course! Where shall we go?’

She affectionately wrapped her arm around mine. It made me happy seeing her smile like a young girl, and I nodded.

‘Let’s see. There’s a new café I’d been wanting to go to recently-’

Even the time we spent together talking about where we would go was dear. Warm and happy days were within my arms.

It happened on just such a day we were spending together, just the two of us.

‘Ah-‘

When I turned around at hearing the sound of something breaking, I saw her standing, motionless with shock. At her feet was a broken mug cup. A pink mug cup with a picture of a lobster on it.

‘What should I do! I’ve broken it-‘

Flustered, she reached her hand out to the fragments of the mug cup on the floor. Seeing her so unheeding, I ran over to her in a panic.

‘What on earth are you doing!’

Angrily, I grabbed her hand. Because if I didn’t, it looked as if she were about to take hold of the glass fragments with her bare hands.

Even then, looking as if she hadn’t given up on it, she gazed at the broken mug cup. 

‘But, this mug cup was a precious-‘

‘It doesn’t matter!’

The shattered mug cup would never go back to the way it was.

Rather than worrying about such a thing, it was more important to me that she not hurt herself touching the fragments.

Moving her away so that she wouldn’t injure herself, I cleaned up the broken mug.

As I looked up after having finished checking that there were no more pieces on the floor, I drew in a breath.

Because she was crying.

‘Lynette-‘

Seeing the tears running down her cheeks, I winced. Because I’d been in such a panic, I might have spoken more harshly than I had intended.

‘I’m sorry for getting angry with you..... I’ll buy you a new one as soon as I can.’

When I apologized, she started as if coming back to herself, putting her hands to her cheeks as if only then realizing she had been crying, and then hurriedly wiped away the tears.

‘No, it’s fine. I was the one at fault..... Sorry, Allan. Thank you.’

Shaking her head, Lynette tried to smile. However, she still looked sad, and it was clear that she was still feeling down.

I quickly went to buy her a new mug cup, but the melancholy on her face remained.

‘Thank you, Allan.....’

She was doing her best to smile. But it was plain to me that she was in a despondent mood, and I was hit with a wave of self-loathing. 

If only I had worded it better, if only I hadn’t yelled so loudly, I was beset with regret. But it was already too late. It was an unchangeable truth that I had made her cry.

(Why couldn’t I have chosen my words more carefully.....)

What on earth are you doing, I shouldn’t have said that. Despite having become Satan, moments like these truly made me realise how much I lacked in composure. 

After that, she seemed somehow sad. She did her best to act cheerful, but the more she did the more obvious her depressed mood was. 

Which was why I then no longer knew what to do. Somehow getting the feeling that trying to cheer her up wasn’t quite the right thing to be doing in this situation, I simply stayed close by her.

‘Well then, good night, Allan,’

‘Yeah. .....Good night.’

We both got into the same bed, and I held her. Even though she was there in my arms, I couldn't help hating myself for not being able to protect her heart.

When I woke the next morning, my head felt terribly heavy.

(Something’s off.....)

Perhaps because I had spent too much time worrying. Still bewildered at a sensation I’d never experienced before, when I tried to get up, I realized that felt exhausting too.

I didn’t want to get out of bed. It was the first time I had ever felt that way. As I wondered why, my thoughts feeling sluggish, I heard hurried footsteps.

 ‘Allan, are you alright!?’

Lynette was looking at me, seeming as if she were about to cry.

‘I’m fine, what’s wrong-‘

‘Because, no matter how many times I called you, you didn’t get up, and you seem feverish.....’

‘Huh? Feverish.....?’

She laid a hand on my forehead while I remained surprised. The chilly feel of her hand felt so good that I groaned. We never normally needed to measure our temperatures, so even if we were to try it was doubtful whether we could tell whether it was normal or not, but somehow or other I had a feeling mine was at a level that could be called a fever.

‘A fever, is it..... You’re right. I really might have one....’

‘Not “might”! It’s clearly much higher than mine.....What should I do,  what kind of times would a demon normally come down with a fever?’

She was genuinely in a panic.  Which was why I smiled, in order to calm her down.

‘I’m fine. A fever is nothing to a demon.’

‘But neither of us have ever had a fever in hundreds of years....’

To be sure, it was as she said. Until now, I had never before had a fever.

Still, the reason I was laid up in bed today in particular, was most likely because of what had happened yesterday.

For the first time, she and I had had a fight (?). I had shouted at her and made her cry.

It would appear I had come down with something like a psychogenic fever, out of shock from what had happened.

(I give up.....)

I almost sighed at the fragility of my own mental state. But the memories in my mind really had been that gloomy. Becoming feverish was only to be expected. Striving with all my might to keep my heavy eyelids open, I looked at her.

‘I’m fine. I’ll probably get better once I’ve slept. Don’t let it worry you.’

I smiled, but Lynette still looked as if she were about to cry. Holding tightly to my hand, she put both hands together as if in prayer.

 ‘Is there anything I can do? Do you need my energy?’

‘No.....I’ll be alright, I think. It’s really no big deal.’

No matter what I said, she was still worrying. Once she realised she wouldn’t be able to obtain the knowledge from me, she looked up how to treat a fever on her smartphone. 

‘Ah, I see now! For a fever, you need a towel soaked in icy water. Wait a moment, Allan. I’ll go bring you one right away!’

She returned only a few minutes later.

Along with an ice pillow, she had brought a wash basin full of ice, a towel and an energy drink. Lining up all the kinds of things one would bring for treating a fever at my bedside, she carefully set to taking care of me.

Once she put the cold towel on my forehead, I started to feel a little bit better. 

‘Take your time and rest. I’ll be right here.’

Lynette didn’t let go of my hand. As if praying she could share her strength from the palm of her hand as it held mine, she looked at me. 

There was no trace left of yesterday’s despondent mood on her face. But it still remained vivid in my mind. The way she had looked when she had cried.

‘.....Hey, Lynette.’

When I called her name, she peered earnestly at my face, seeming worried.

‘What is it? Are you thirsty?’

‘No, I’m fine, but.....about yesterday.....I’m sorry.’

‘..........Yesterday?’

She tilted her head, not seeming to know what I was talking about.  It would appear she had no idea what I meant. However, unable to forget, I did my best to find the words with a mind hazy with fever and opened my mouth to speak.

‘Yesterday..... I shouted at you, didn’t I? I regret it. I should have said it differently..... .....I’m sorry for making you cry.’

‘I’m sorry too. You even went out right away to buy me another one.....’

‘No. You’ve got nothing to apologise for. .....I’m sorry I made you cry. I’m sorry for speaking so harshly and hurting you.....’

I was aware that my mind wasn’t working as well as it normally did because of the fever. As I continued to apologize, my thoughts still disordered, Lynette shook her head.

‘That’s not true. You weren’t harsh, Allan. You didn’t hurt me at all.’

‘But.....I made you cry.’

‘That wasn’t it. It wasn’t your fault. I got shocked all on my own and ended up crying, that’s all.’

So speaking, Lynette explained. That it had been a shock to her that she had been the one to break the mug cup she had so treasured. And after that, because I’d said “It doesn’t matter”, she had cried because she had thought it was only her who had thought of the mug cup as special-.

‘I’m sorry. Even though I knew it was only because you didn’t want me to get hurt, Allan.’

‘No. .....I’m sorry too. Those were mug cups we bought to remember our trip to D’amour Paradis, of course it mattered.....’

I should have known exactly what kind of item the broken cup was. But because I had been so flustered, afraid that she would get hurt, I’d misspoken.

‘.....So you did remember.’

Lynette gave a happy smile. I stretched out a hand toward her cheek.

‘Of course I remember. The places I’ve been with you.....the memories we made together, I remember all of them.’

‘Yeah. That’s right. .....That’s just like you, Allan.’

She lovingly squeezed my hand. Seeing her look relieved, I relaxed as well.

(I see..... So that’s why she was crying.)

I thought that I had known everything about her, but I had been mistaken. No, it had likely been that very conceit that had caused us to be at odds. I felt pathetic for not realising what had made her so sad, but even so was happy that she had smiled again.

The memories that were precious to me were also precious to her. That was why— we had ended up in a fight. No. I wasn’t sure whether it was at the level that could be called a fight. 

But it was because we both loved each other that she had cried, and I had come down with a fever.

(I really am hopeless. I can’t act cool at all.....)

I had a feeling that no matter how many hundreds of years went by, I would end up with a fever each time she became sad like this.

Because she existed at a fundamental part of my heart. Even the condition of my body was at the mercy of her every move.  And that made me happy.

‘Let’s make more memories together. And....let’s buy matching mug cups again.’

‘Yeah! I’ll be looking forward to it.’

Making a promise, the two of us smiled at each other. Seeing her smile, and now knowing the reason she had cried, my body that had felt so terribly heavy just earlier now felt lighter.

No, what had become lighter was my heart. Still, that was enough to make my body feel lighter too.

And as it did, suddenly wanting her affection, I grabbed her hand and pulled her into bed.

‘Wah- Allan? You need to rest….’

‘I know. But it seems like my fever’s gone down.’

Look, I said, as I took her hand and guided it to my forehead. Once I had confirmed that she had murmured, ‘You’re right,’ I stole away her lips.

‘Although, my body does still feel sluggish. Give me some of your power.’

‘Wait, just now, it felt like I was the one who—’

‘Just being with you like this gives me strength.’

The moment I stretched myself out over her, the towel that had been on my forehead fell away. The now lukewarm towel had taken away both my fever and my worries. Which was why my body was already completely fine.

As I continued to touch her as we kissed, her voice gradually began to sound needy. She playfully sucked at my tongue, but even then, her gaze occasionally met mine as if concerned. 

You were supposed to still be letting me take care of you, is what her eyes seemed to say.

So I pressed my forehead against hers, in order to show her that I was better now.

Right now, our bodies were at the same temperature. Still unsure whether it was because my fever had gone down, or she had been worked up into one, I slipped my hands into her clothes.

In the heat underneath the blanket, only our breaths could be heard. The creaking sound of the bed and the voices that escaped us mixed.

Even though it should be just the two of us in the house today, we sought each other out beneath the blanket as if we were hiding. Our muffled voices fell into the silence of the house.

Without words, we indulged ourselves in each other as if in a delirium. Kissing, exchanging sighs, we held tight to one another as we tangled together.

Once we were done, it was as if she had come down with a fever too. Cheeks bright red and breathing heavily, she looked at me.

‘Allan….. I’m glad, that you’re feeling better….’

Looking satisfied, she was smiling. After having put so much effort into looking after me, she was happy that I had recovered. Moved by a feeling of tenderness, I hugged her. The heat from our bare skin as we touched blended together.

‘Thank you. It was because you looked after me that I got better. So…..give me more of you.’

As I spoke, I kissed her to give her my power, and began again once more.

At our vigorous movements, the blanket that had been covering us slipped down.

Until the ice in the basin on the bedside table had completely melted, the two of us continued to make love.

[akiumzeno]

A Dive Into Ushirono Fuyu's Relationships

I intend this to be a character analysis but I was thinking of this while on the bus and going ice skating and got really passionate that I had to write down the words. If you already can't tell from my pfp and banner, I love Fuyu so I made him his own dedicated analysis because he's the best.

ZENO remake and ZENO daily life SPOILERS

Fuyu and Maeno's relationship

Well, the most dominant thing about Fuyu and Maeno's dynamic is the revenge part. All throughout the game, Fuyu is chasing Maeno (and Tsugino) down to kill him. And his additional part in the story is about redefining that revenge.

And well, it's understandable; Maeno ate his sister. Granted, he didn't want to and was forced into it but Fuyu had no way to know that. How could you forgive someone who did something who did so atrocious?

But... there's something to be discussed about that.

Fuyu didn't see the event happen. One day, Maeno and Natsu both went missing. It was strange. How could both of the people he cared about just disappear without a trace?

So he set out to find out (or even better, Maeno and Natsu). And he did. After years, he finally found Maeno... but not Natsu.

And likely, that's when the awful truth came out. Natsu died because Maeno cannibalized her. And it's likely when he found out, he gained ZENO and was determined to kill Maeno in revenge.

Fuyu got hired as a researcher/doctor and tried to hide his ZENO and suppress his ZENO (likely through treating himself with the Memory Control Device). (Also, one of the doctors had a feeling he had ZENO).

And he waited for the perfect opportunity to get his revenge (which we all knows that opportunity comes).

Although Fuyu wants to kill Maeno and will never forgive him for what he did, that doesn't mean he hates him. In fact, he cares for Maeno. And you can see this in different endings.

Fuyu begs Maeno to not leave him in the Oblivion ending, Fuyu seems shocked or concerned when Maeno dies in the punishment ending and, hell, even Fuyu chooses to help out Maeno and work with him rather than leave him alone to die by Tsugino and get his revenge. He could completely just not choose to help him and escape the facility on his own and there would be no problem but he can't because he still cares enough to try to help him.

Despite what Maeno did, Fuyu can't not care for Maeno. They had known each other since they were 4 years old. They've been together and sharing their lives together. They always had each other. And nothing will change that. Fuyu may not forgive him for what he did, but there will always be that part of him caring for Maeno.

And it's probably because he cares for Maeno is the reason why he wants to kill Maeno. The first reason is that ZENO makes you want to kill your loved ones. But it's because he cares that it's why it hurts so badly. It was his friend, of all people, to eat Natsu, let alone the friend he spent years trying to find. (Maybe his only friend.)

And it's also why he doesn't feel fulfilled when he kills Maeno. Because there's still a sense of emptiness after killing his friend. Sure, he might've gotten his revenge but there's still a hole of sadness and anger still inside fo him and he doesn't feel better from killing one of the only pieces of his left still left, after Kanrai destroys his workplace and all his friends are gone and the only family he has left are all shitty people. He loses the one good thing left in his life. And revenge is not a thing that'll make you feel happy for long, if at all.

Fuyu and his family

Fuyu's family. ...Yeah.

Hoo boy. Won't this be fun?

Uh, I'll get into Natsu first because I honestly cannot dissect much about Fuyu and Kanrai's relationship aside from what's in the wiki, the two English translation videos of ZENO daily life and TV Tropes.

So, Natsu is clearly one of the only people who is close to Fuyu (the other being Aki and later on Haruno, I believe). So a ton of Fuyu's prime motivations are hinged on Natsu since his and Maeno's relationship ranges from strained to enemies after Maeno eats Natsu.

Considering Kanrai's just... garbage personality and Ritsuka deciding to be a free woman over taking care of her children, Fuyu had to be the one to take care of Natsu bc they have about a 10-year age gap, whether it be just giving her a father figure or straight-up defending Natsu from danger. (Also, second thought, Fuyu also had to take care of Maeno considering he was home alone at 4 and all Maeno would want to do was just stay inside and read books all day. Bro's fr a single dad since childhood.)

With this in mind, it's very easy to understand why Fuyu is so protective of Natsu. She quite literally had no one else to look up to, aside from Maeno. He was her one and only protector and they shared a relationship that was very close because of this. Hell, he even takes a stab for her.

And it's also hard to not love Natsu. She's sweet, polite, curious, cheerful and selfless. Aside from being her brother, her personality also made it easy for Fuyu to want to protect her.

So when she died, that must've left a hole in his heart. She was gone forever and he couldn't do anything about it, especially because he was the one who was always taking care of her. (And why it hurts so much that Maeno was the one to take her away.)

While we never explore Fuyu's grief (much) with Natsu in the game, we can very much assume he grieved for Natsu a lot. And the reason for his revenge was likely trying to fill up the hole in his heart. And Fuyu chases after that, thinking it would please or avenge Natsu, when we know that's not true.

And it takes talking with Natsu or seeing her memories to see that isn't what Natsu wants nor how he'll be able to heal.

And even though he did want revenge, he's more than willing to give it up or change way of revenge for Natsu. Because, no matter what, what she wants will always be priority because he loves her and always will. Nothing will change that, ever.

Now, the parents. They're so lovely.

Let's start with Ritsuka. Ritsuka never took care of Fuyu, only occasionally making contact and sending him fruit as a gift. She valued being free over being a good mother, likely because she felt adverse to it because she was told to do that her entire life. But of course, that is selfish as fuck.

Fuyu (and Natsu) grew up without a mother figure and he had to provide for himself (mostly, I believe Kanrai's secretary might've helped), which led to him being rude and blunt as he grew older. He never had anyone telling him to be a good person or had someone to take care of him, making him way more independent at a younger age than any normal kid, especially because he had to take care of Maeno and Natsu, as mentioned before.

While Ritsuka did end up gaining just a bit more concern for Fuyu after Natsu died (emphasis on bit) and tried to visit more frequently, but by then, the damage had already been done. Fuyu had already grown into his stern and cold self, and her actions were too little and too late.

Now, Kanrai.

Kanrai and Fuyu have anything but a loving and respectful relationship. Fuyu wants nothing to do with Kanrai and Kanrai is only concerned with Fuyu when he's able to be used as a tool for himself. But well, how did we get here?

Well, let's begin with how Fuyu was even conceived. As mentioned before, Ritsuka was told to be a wife and mother, and not only that but it was already decided who she'd marry, with that man being Kanrai. However, around the time they were getting married, Kanrai said to her that the only expectation of her was to bear one child and then she was free as a bird. She wasn't even expected to raise the child, just give birth to them.

But this begs the question of why Kanrai wanted a child, anyway. Did he want to be a father? Did he enjoy taking care of children? Maybe he just needed to continue his lineage.

Hah, NO!

He wanted a child... to try to spread ZENO.

He wanted to have the child develop ZENO and then have a person which he can influence under his own will to go do whatever he wants. And if that child never developed ZENO then he didn't care for them at all. How fun.

While I'm not sure if Fuyu knew he was even created for the sake for ZENO, but regardless, his father didn't pay attention to him. And it likely stayed that way until Natsu gained ZENO and Fuyu himself got involved with the issue, considering Kanrai does try to ask Maeno to tell Fuyu to call him back. And that probably frustrated Fuyu more with his father than his mother's neglect did.

For Fuyu, his father never bothered to take care of him until he got involved with this illness that Kanrai has based his entire, wicked and horrible, life on. To him, that likely felt like a slap in the face. He didn't care before and now he cares once he begins getting involved with ZENO; the disease that led to his sister's death because his best friend had ZENO and ate her because of it. Not to mention, Kanrai wants to spread that same disease.

And that's likely the reason why Fuyu refuses to return his calls and constantly says for Kanrai to die. He was created for the sake of ZENO, something that ruined his life and made his life just suck. No matter what, Fuyu could never live as a normal kid because Kanrai had set it up to be that way. If Fuyu had never gained or gotten involved with ZENO, his family had no desire to ever raise him and he meant practically nothing to them. And it probably hurt more for his family to exist and never take care of him rather than just never having one that was alive. His whole life was just doomed from the start and all he has to blame for it is Kanrai. Because it was Kanrai who wanted him to exist, not his mother.

Fuyu's life is the worst and it's his father that made it that way. Fuyu hates the circumstances that made him the way he is. The circumstances created by the horrid, vile, wretched, awful and evil Kanrai.