#and they’ve been searching for each other before they even met (bc they were lovers in their past lives)

[deus-ex-mona]

stretching to interpret nonfan as an aiyuu song like

[geroya]

EXCUSE ME? EXCUSE ME???????????????? BELOVED XINGCHEN MEETING NOT!ZOE? EYE 👁👄👁

trying to be normal about not!zoe & then my brain is like hey hey what if !! what if !!! 

yeah !! like exes xingzoe, EXES xingzoe (already a concept i am. INSANE about). they're the sort of exes who do still care about each other who broke up, maybe not on the Best terms (bc things were said / left unsaid) but how do they stop LOVING each other?? when the big, underlying reason they broke up was bc zoe can’t stay & xingchen HAS to. zoe’s this constantly moving object that was, IS, always searching, looking, could never sit still, and never would no matter how much she was insistent on returning to (or staying with….) a place she could consider HOME and xingchen?? they can’t leave. they’re rooted to their planet & their home their sect the ideals they were raised on like a god damn mountain. but they wouldn’t be their father, they wouldn’t CAGE zoe so their break-up ends like that. with zoe rushing forward and xingchen staying behind, both of them letting the other go bc they love them so so much and it would mean a decay of the other if they stayed. 

so i can only IMAGINE how fucking SHOCKING it might be for xingchen to meet not!zoe, the double of the woman they love. like and also going crazy about the concept of not!zoe being formed from/during the time before zoe went to space, so she is completely foreign to anyone zoe has met during her runs in space bc not!zoe hasn’t been there, she hasn’t been through that. so for xingchen to meet her, she’s something they’ve never seen before of zoe. 

i do think. that they ARE endeared by her, despite how it makes their stomach churn and chest hurt. like there is a large feeling of WRONGNESS about not!zoe and xingchen recognizes her face as their ex-lover’s, who they are still a bit sold on. so it’s like. even if not!zoe kills a person and then turns on xingchen, they’d probably still hold their hands out to her & hold her the same way they would for zoe, but it’d be a bit more shielded. like don’t… dont play with my heart. don’t look me in the eyes and lure me in or something like that. you know?

[surveillance-0011]

Reincarnation AU sounds interesting. Can I hear more about it? Like specifics on the characters sound pretty neat.

Basically one day people start having weird dreams and feelings of Deja Vu and it eventually comes out that reincarnation is real and people are experiencing flashbacks to past lives bc of some grand cosmic shift. A select few like Flo and other hippie-magic-whatever types know about this somewhat before hand or suspected it but more importantly they know ways to accurately look into past lives so people begin to seek out these methods, going to “professionals” or even diy-ing it. And all sorts of chaos ensues as they find out what lives they once had- if they had any at all, since there’s also a few new souls around.

And the plot would basically be. Collection of different characters finding out their past lives. Drama humor and heart warming moments all around. All I’ve really got so far is:

Callie and Marie were in many of each other’s past lives, including one where they were part of warring kingdoms and Callie ended up killing Marie. Squid Twitter finds out and people argue abt whether this makes Callie problematic.

OTH as star crossed lovers in every life they shared, only able to be together now.

Deep Cut also were important people in their clans in previous lives.

Noiji is a new soul, Orion is incredibly old.

Paul is an old soul too.

Finn brags abt warrior heritage (like one good reincarnation)

Also Bottom Feeders besties for the resties.

Ink Theory’s bond is more newly formed but it seems to be the bond these souls have searched for all their other lives.

And like I mentioned ω-3 have been enemies for many of their lives, even causing each other’s deaths. The DJ finds this funny. The other two do not But they’ve always found each other and eventually when the other two die they reincarnate as people who eventually befriend the DJ, and when he eventually dies as well they just keep reincarnating as closer and closer friends, even family.

Also Diss Pair and SqSq have crossed paths many times in other lives.

When Judd finds out he ends up starting to recognize people he met once before. Like hey now that I think about it that guy looks familiar. That one too.

Some go back to humankind, some lived in Alterna! This includes Neo 3.

At least one person is some sort of deity

And uh… there’s something going on with Little Buddy.

[nevermindirah]

Yitzhak!

is a character! who Gregadiah What-Is-Math Rucka gave us almost no information about!

I've gone through Tales Through Time #6: The Bear and #1: My Mother's Axe with several magnifying glasses and done a lot of googling and taken my copy of the Tanakh off my shelf for the first time since (well, since the last time I needed to read Torah for TOG reasons, which I think was Booker Passover headcanons) and here's the best I can come up with.

In The Bear we meet someone who goes by the name Isaac Blue:

Read on for a lot of comic panel analysis and historical research and Jewish flailing!

So what do we know about this Isaac Blue person?

He's Lorge, he's got curly hair, he's basically a taller version of Joe as drawn by Leandro Fernández (ie an antisemitic stereotype why the fuck did they approve this character design?? and then why did they double down and copy-paste it to Yitzhak??):

He's got a mezuzah on the doorpost of his house in Alaska!

I screamed about the mezuzah way back in January in this post where I (very reasonably) assumed this character was Joe and spun myself a tale about how Booker is still Joe's brother so the mezuzah stays up even though Booker isn't welcome in that house for a century. Bottom line: the mezuzah is a tradition with origins in the commandment from Deuteronomy 6:9 to "write the words of G-d on the gates and doorposts of your house" and evolved over the course of the Rabbinic period into the modern mezuzah we see here.

I did unnecessary levels of google image search to glean absolutely no useful information about Yitzhak’s origins from this panel:

I've decided the variant cover of TTT 6 is Yitzhak because of a panel in My Mother’s Axe, shown here, and what's likely an unnecessarily deep reading of Exodus, discussed further down:

The person at the right of the bottom panel is wearing the same clothes as in the TTT 6 variant cover and has the same shoulder-length curly hair and hairy forearms.

Left to right, the people in this panel are Lykon (I'll never get used to him being white in the comics), Andy, Noriko (I think? why doesn't Andy mention her by name here?), and Yitzhak. Andy's robe has a stereotypically Greek design on the sleeve cuff, and I had to stop myself 10 minutes into a Wikipedia rabbit hole because Gregorforth doesn't think that deep about this shit. The solid clues as to timeline that we get in this panel are:

Andy's iron axe

the presence of Lykon, who Andy first met in 331 BCE

So all we know is that Yitzhak is an immortal, he was a contemporary of Lykon, and he's Jewish.

Isaac is the most common Anglicization of Yitzhak (which in turn is the most common Anglophone transliteration of יִצְחָק‎), and Greg always uses the (transliterated) Hebrew when he refers to this character. Yitzhak is the long-awaited child of Abraham and Sarah in Genesis, the child who G-d commanded Abraham to sacrifice but spared at the last minute. I see what you did there, Gregory.

Why Isaac Blue? This is where I pulled out my Tanakh. According to the New JPS translation, blue is the first of three colors of yarn listed in Exodus 35:6 among the gifts requested of the Israelites to construct the priestly garments for the Tabernacle and later the Temple. Then in Numbers 15:38 the Israelites are commanded to "make themselves fringes on the corners of their garments throughout the ages; let them attach a cord of blue to the fringe at each corner."

And now for sandbox timelines party! Gregadiah gave us ALMOST NOTHING to go on, so I'm gonna make my own fun.

I, like many modern Jews, think the stories in the Tanakh are foundational mythology that are valuable because of how they've shaped our people but that contain some fucked-up shit and either way aren't meant to be a record of historical facts. Modern scholarship generally agrees that the community we now call Jews emerged as a distinct group of Canaanites sometime in the late Bronze Age (cw this video's host says the Name of G-d aloud despite being a religious studies scholar who knows that is not a name anyone but the Temple priests are allowed to say). The first non-Biblical written record of the people Israel is from an Egyptian source c. 1200 BCE, and the Biblical kingdom of David and Solomon was probably an exaggeration of whatever really happened during the Bronze Age Collapse. We start getting into historical-fact territory a few centuries into the Iron Age:

588 BCE Solomon's Temple destroyed, Babylonian exile begins

538 BCE Cyrus of Persia allows Jews to return to Jerusalem

515 BCE Second Temple construction complete

332 BCE Alexander the Great At Something I Guess conquered Judea, beginning the Hellenistic period of Jewish history — 331 BCE Andy & Lykon find each other

167 BCE another jerkface Greek king desecrated the Temple and basically outlawed Judaism

164 BCE recapture of Jerusalem and Temple rededication during the Maccabean Revolt

70 CE destruction of the Second Temple by the Romans, beginning of the Rabbinic period of Jewish history that we're still in now

What if... and hear me out... what if immortals come in pairs, and the pairs are:

Andy & Quynh

Joe & Nicky

Booker & Nile

LYKON & YITZHAK

What if Yitzhak was a priest of the Second Temple? What if he and Lykon killed each other just like Joe and Nicky would in the same city around 1300 years later, but instead of enemies-to-lovers speedrun with an absurdly long happily-ever-after, when Lykon died permanently Yitzhak decided to separate from Andy and Noriko and become the hermit we later see in Alaska?

We don't know how old Yitzhak is compared to the others, only that he was a contemporary of Lykon at a time when Andy was using an Iron Age version of her mother's axe. Other plausible origins for him:

a Jew of the early Rabbinic period, maybe a child or grandchild of people who were still alive before the Second Temple was destroyed

a Judean of the Second Temple era under the Romans or Greeks or Persians, maybe a priest, maybe not

an exilee in Babylon, maybe of the generation who got to return, maybe of the generation who was exiled (he doesn't look like he was 50 at his first death but who knows, he could've been mortal for both)

an Israelite of the Kingdoms of Israel and Judah, maybe a priest of Solomon's Temple or again maybe not

an Israelite wandering in the desert with Moses

THEE Yitzhak, ben Avraham v'Sarah, our patriarch who was brought up for sacrifice and then spared, and then spared again, and then spared again, and again, and again...

or! he could also be a Canaanite or other Levantine who predates the people Israel, who at some point in his very long life chose to join our mixed multitude, who like Andromache before him (and like Avram and Sarai would in this case do after him) took a new name to reflect the magnitude of influence this people has had on him

Why do I keep saying Yitzhak might have been a priest? It's thanks to the one detail in the artwork I could plausibly connect to solid research without getting a PhD real quick. Take a look at the gorgeous detail on the opening of his robe in the TTT 6 cover. He's dressed in rags, holes and dirt everywhere, rough stitches probably from hasty repair work — except for the neck opening. Compare that to this description from Exodus 39:23 of the construction of the priestly garments for the Tabernacle: "The opening of the robe, in the middle of it, was like the opening of a coat of mail, with a binding around the opening, so that it would not tear."

The next verses describe the intricate designs for the hem of the priestly garment. Yitzhak's ragged garment looks like the hem was torn off entirely.

Am I overthinking this? Yes I am! You're welcome!

My friend and historical research hero @lady-writes​ is in a Discord server with Gregadiah and asked the man himself some questions about all this. He clearly thinks he's being sneaky?? No shit Yitzhak is Jewish, dude, I want DETAILS!

I will not be giving up my Jewish Booker headcanon, I've put too much thought into it by now, the internalized shame of antisemitism explains Booker's depression too well for me, and it just adds so much richness to Booker/Nile both being children of forced diasporas. Fortunately (for him, not me, bc I'd do it anyway!) Gregothy supports fan headcanons even when they're not in line with his own:

One last thing before I close like 100 research tabs and go back to writing historical fantasy and/or porn! I love that, despite that atrocious caricature of a face design, our canon Jew and our fanon Jew are both Lorge and Soft and Kind, flying the face of the antisemitic stereotype of Ashkenazi Jewish men as small and weak, but also not falling into the New Jew / Muscle Jew stereotype that Zionism created. (I am trying SO HARD not to talk about Israel/Palestine for once ughhhhhhhhhh) Anyway here's a (US-centric but very good) primer on both these stereotypes of Jewish masculinity. Is this why I'm forever projecting my transmasc diasporist feels onto Jewish Booker the service sub? 🤷🏻‍♂️

I’ll reblog a second version of this with full image descriptions so that there’s a version accessible for folks who need IDs as well as a version accessible for folks who get overwhelmed by walls of text.

[slversoul]

* mia goth, cis female + she/her  | you know cecilia rutherford, right? they’re twenty-four, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, three hours? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to summer wine by nancy sinatra and lee hazlewood like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole strap of a silk slip falling down her shoulder, sitting on a sailboat and smoking, soft smile hiding shark teeth thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is june 1, so they’re a gemini, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( cornelia  )

death tw, gaslighting tw, animal death tw, murder tw, attempted murder tw

born at 12:02 am on june 1, three minutes after her twin brother, making her younger — a fact cecil never let her forget.

the twins shared one name. one head. two hands. two feet. one heart. it was impossible to tell them apart as small children, everyone assuming they were identical twins with their matching haircuts and outfits.

their parents had met when their father was shooting a movie in brazil, sweeping their mother off her feet, and bringing her to connecticut where they were married within three months. only four years later she was moving to italy to live with her young lover.

back and forth the twins moved between their father’s home and their mother’s home. the constant shuffling around led them to be homeschooled in their youth. all the better for them. the twins ran through the large houses, barefoot, with laughter filling the corridors behind them.

it wasn’t that their parents didn’t love them, but they had other things to preoccupy their time. cecil and cecilia only had each other.

when they turned 11, they were enrolled in a middle school, settling in with their father full time during the school year. the other kids might not have known them, but they certainly recognized their last name. despite their lack of early socialization, they made friends quickly. calm and easy to converse with, they were respected among their peers.

(attempted murder tw) the first incident happened when they were 12. with their friend over and their father gone, the three of them were swimming in the pool. their friend, wanting to show off, dived into the pool. in the blink of an eye, cecilia watched red bloom from him, seeping slowly into the surrounding pool water. she wanted to run and find the housekeeper, wanted to call 911. do something. do anything. cecil held his hand up, stopping her in his tracks. his eyes were on their friend floating face down in the pool, and her eyes were on him, searching for anything buried in his cold, dark eyes. as the seconds ticked by, he finally lowered his hand, and cecilia ran screaming into the house. the friend lived, but from then on, there seemed to be a separation between the twins and the rest of the world.

they skipped eighth grade, too smart for any of the silly assignments their teachers had for them that year. they played tennis and golf and even learned to sail. all activities they could do together. all activities their parents had wanted them to learn on their own.

(animal death tw) it was their trips to italy that got them interested in architecture and history and classics. places they could explore first hand, reconstructing history with nothing more than their imaginations. one night, they snuck out of their mother’s villa and stole three chickens from a neighboring farm. deep into the woods they went until they came across the smooth stone. it was cecil that butchered them, but this time, cecilia’s eyes were cold as she watched the blood spill down the stone and seep into the forest floor. the gods were appeased cecil had said.

every time a friend encouraged cecilia to step away from cecil, the friendship ended shortly after. he was her older brother. he knew the ways of the world and was helping lead her through it. she went on dates but she never dated, preferring to limit her company. perhaps that’s why everyone clamored to be around her, and even fought for cecil’s attention. they didn’t walk, they floated, in a reality of their own making. a secret universe that no one else got a glimpse of. but their classmates and their teammates and their neighbors needed to know what made them so different from everyone else, blinding them to the coldness the twins wrapped themselves in like a large quilt.

off they went to college, both of them double majoring in classics and history with a minor in latin.

the tipping point came when they were placed in different recitations for some general lecture. they demanded their parents try to convince the dean to place them in the same one, and the parents insisted they tried their hardest, but in reality, they were happy to see the twins apart. it was there that she made friends. friends who didn’t know her brother, and didn’t care to know him. it started with study group without cecil, but it grew bigger and bigger, until slowly, she became cecilia rutherford and not cecil’s sister.

of course, he didn’t take this news well. he was sick every month, needing cecilia to nurse him back to health. or he wanted to do a family dinner the same night she was supposed to go out. she tried reconciling him and her friends, but they never seemed to get along. torn between two worlds, she was tugged back and forth, helpless in the middle.

(murder tw) bunny, siobhan, cecilia, and cecil were at the marina late at night. they were tying the boat up, having spent the whole day in the sun, still tipsy from an afternoon of drinking. a comment about one of their classes, one cecil wasn’t in, struck a nerve, and he launched into a tiraid. a move to grab cecilia, resulted in him being pushed away, slipping and falling over the pier and hitting his head on the boat before he landed in the water with a splash. nobody made a move to call for help. a relief really. he had been but a stone, trying to drag everyone down to whatever sad pit of despair he lived in. it was a secret that they would take to the grave, binding them together.

they stayed close throughout college, drifting away as they graduated. cecilia moved from pursuit to pursuit, treating everything as if it was some kind of game rather than a career. she even tried her hand at writing a novel, growing bored after only ten chapters in. she had more fun laying around on the yacht of whoever she was seeing at the moment.

her brother’s death hardly left a mark on the family. they cried together at the funeral, but they floated apart again, dealing with the grief in their own way. she never talked about it, preferring to block out his memory entirely than deal with the consequences of their actions. this proved impossible when she received a note, slipped under the door of the penthouse she was currently renting out. a note, in her deceased brother’s handwriting. you can’t get away that easily. fear left her cold, and she tracked down her old friends, packing up and moving to irving, north carolina to confront the past.

PERSONALITY

she’s friendly and charming and outgoing. she can talk to everyone and be kind to everyone, but that doesn’t mean she likes everyone. it’s all about appearances. is very good at hiding things and keeping things close to her. she’s still struggling with the loss of her brother because he was her best friend. she’s aware of his flaws, but it’s hard for her to reconcile her fairytale version of him and the truth. cecilia is super smart and pretentious and snobbish, but she’s also a bit of an airhead in that she’s not aware of how the “common person” lives. she’s very out of touch with things because she lives in the bubble of her parents’ money. she’s calm always. it always seems like nothing fazes her, and it’s all a façade. um i think i’ll add more to this later but that is all for now :)

WANTED CONNECTIONS

okay, so as she is new, like literally just moved in hours ago, she’s not really going to have recent connections. but i’m so down for doing past connections :)) maybe a love affair when they were both on vacation somewhere, or someone who she knew in the past who hates how calm she is about everything. also someone who knew her brother and either hated or loved him bt that would be fun angst bc she doesn’t talk about him anymore :) anyway, if you think our muses could have met in the past, just let me know and we can brainstorm connections :D

[tirednotflirting]

i was just an only child of the universe (and then i found you)

@clumsyclifford you enabled my writing this and it is also your birthday so it is yours (unless you think it is Bad which is def a possibility bc i have read it all the way through like 1.5 times and in that case u saw nothing). i hope you have beautiful day. you put so much light out into the world, you deserve nothing but that and so much more in return. thank you for your kindness and community and endless fun. much luv x

and as always here’s the link to ao3 bc it is the Better way to consume writing let’s all be real here

When Ashton wakes up, it’s still dark. And he’s alone.

He lets his eyes flutter open, reaching out to his right for his phone to check the time. It’s just before 4am, he’s only been fully asleep for around two hours. He pushes himself up to sit, the fleecy blanket Luke had tossed across the sheets when the temperature dropped a few weeks earlier pooling around his waist. He lifts his neck some and pushes his hair from his eyes to peer over toward the bathroom to see if he can see the light on, worried the drinks Luke had had several hours earlier were making a reappearance. But the door to the bathroom is open and the light is off, so his lover isn’t sick. 

Or at least not in the bathroom, he thinks to himself when he hears a quiet noise in what he suspects is the kitchen. 

Ashton turns, letting his bare feet drop from the mattress to the floor. He squints against the darkness in search of something to pull on to cover his upper half before going to investigate. He sees what looks to be a shirt and half-blindly reaches for it, realizing it's one of Luke’s flannels once he gets it closer to his face, the identity of the garment being revealed by the softness only achieved from years of wear and wash and the faint smell of Luke’s cologne on the fabric.

He stands and pulls his arms through the sleeves, not bothering with buttons, his entire being just too tired for that. Ashton shuffles out from the bedroom and down the hall, the lack of carpet making him wish he had tugged on his slippers (a recent gift that had come in a care package from Calum’s mom) before wandering out to find his boy.

Luke is sitting in one of the barstools at the kitchen island, the only light on being the dull yellow one just above the sink. He faces away from Ashton, his shoulders covered by one of the quilts he must have pulled from the couch and hunched over some. His hair had grown long during the semester and he’s got it pulled back into a little bun he must have put up after getting out of bed (Ashton never letting him wear it up that way to bed so that way he could play with the blonde curls without a hair tie getting in the way). He sniffles quietly and Ashton can hear him stir a spoon around a bowl that must be blocked from the black haired boy’s view, the metal clinking against the sides of the ceramic.

Gently, so as to not scare Luke, Ashton places his hands atop his shoulders, sliding his hands down to clasp together against the blonde’s chest. He settles his head to rest against the side of his. “Why are you up?”

Luke sets his spoon back in the bowl and tugs Ashton’s hands apart so he can lace his left with Ashton’s right. He smiles as Luke turns to place a kiss against his temple. “I was having this dream that we were eating cereal. And then I woke up when I dropped the bowl on the floor in the dream. And then I was hungry for cereal. So now I’m here.” 

Ashton chuckles to himself as he rubs his thumb over Luke’s where their hands are clasped together. He liked that Luke’s brain worked in the kind of way that got him up for cereal when he was still a little drunk after a night out at the bars. They had been out with Michael and Calum, celebrating the end to another semester. Ashton, the group’s forever faithful DD, had spent the night sitting at the bar, sipping on soda and lime, watching the three others dance on and with each other. He had smiled and nodded at the bar as Luke told him a story of some funny ringtone that had gone off during his literature final and about the therapy dog he had gotten to pet when they brought them by the library.

(He had also avoided the suggestive look from his favorite bartender when Luke draped his arms around Ashton’s waist toward the end of the night, his lips brushing over his neck as he begged to go back home in between kissing the blushed skin. An Uber was called the moment Luke’s hands started trying to creep their way up under Ashton’s t shirt.)

They had gotten home only a couple hours earlier, Ashton sitting Luke at the counter to drink a few glasses of water and take a couple preemptive ibuprofen while he waited for the confirmation text that Michael and Calum had made it back to their apartment a few streets over.

(cal: we are out of the uber.

cal: we are at the front door.

cal: michael dropped his keys and then someone walking a dog walked by so he is petting the dog.

cal: it’s pretty fluffy. his name is einstein.

cal: okay we’re in our unit now. door is locked. we are drinking water.

cal: [attached] seeeeee? 

cal: luv u)

Getting him to the bathroom to brush his teeth and change out of his jeans hadn’t been all that difficult. Luke had two phases of sleepy drunk: giggly and hangry. Thankfully Ashton had made sure all of them had a full meal before hitting the bars so he knew he was likely to deal with the giggly version of his boyfriend rather than the latter. Luke had followed Ashton by hand to bed without complaint, slurring his words around a story about another dog he had met recently before his words slowly came to a stop as he fell asleep against Ashton’s chest.

Luke uses his free hand to take another bite of the colorful cereal, frowning when a drop of milk hits the counter. He swipes it away with his thumb and then smiles again. It’s quiet between them for a moment while he leans his head against Ashton’s as he continues to stand behind him, chewing slowly, as if stuck on a thought. Ashton finds himself smiling adoringly at him as he glances at his face out of the corner of his tired eyes. It’s obvious the blonde is still at least a little drunk.

“What’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours?”

Luke’s expression shifts for a moment then, to something lighter and happier, in response to the compliment. It fades just slightly and then he’s dropping his spoon in his mostly empty bowl and turning in the barstool so he can face Ashton. He drops his hands around his waist and maneuvers the standing boy to move between his legs. “You ever think about how tiny we are?”

Ashton slides his hands up where they’re rested against Luke’s bare chest, fixing the blanket to stay wrapped around his shoulders before letting his arms hang loosely around his neck, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the curls at the back of his neck that have escaped the little bun.

“I hate to break it to you, Lu, but you’re a little bit of a giant compared to most people of average size.”

Luke opens his mouth to reply but then closes it again and pouts his bottom lip out. Ashton can feel him play with the hem of the flannel at the bottom of his back before sliding his hands underneath and resting against the skin there. “No, I mean, like. Do you ever think about how big oceans and planets and suns and stars are and how we’re just these tiny little things? Just little specks on what is a speck in the middle of other specks?”

The question itself, though alcohol induced, is pretty damn existential. And Ashton probably would have wanted to take a bit longer to formulate an answer but Luke is looking at him with those anxious blue eyes and his hands at Ashton’s back pull him in closer, as if he’s worried that that big wide universe will suck the hazel eyed boy away. He’s trying to think of a way to respond when Luke keeps going.

“Because I mean it's just so wild to me. How we can be so little and tiny and really not much of anything at all when compared to everything else in the universe. Yet for some reason the universe decided to give us just a little bit of attention to guide us to one another. I can’t stop thinking about what we did to deserve something so special.”

And despite knowing that everything coming out of Luke’s mouth in the poetic way that it is is liquor induced babbling, Ashton’s heart is bursting at his words. Luke is speaking from a place of adoration, of love, not existentialism (or at least not too much). He’s not even sure what to say really so he just slides his hands up to cup Luke’s cheeks, the blonde closing his eyes while smiling wide, his blushing cheeks pressed against Ashton’s palms. 

He shakes his head as he runs his thumbs below Luke’s ocean blue eyes. “Guess some higher power had a free afternoon and decided it might be funny to kick both of us in the direction of the library that day. To make you spill your coffee in the elevator to the fourth floor.” 

Luke lets out a giggle and drops his head to the side, Ashton’s left hand holding it up. “When our kids ask how we met, we’re gonna have to come up with something better than that. You’ll have to make up some story about wooing me, you’re much better at telling stories.”

Ashton lifts his brows and lets out a gentle laugh. “Our kids?”

Luke responds with a look as if Ashton’s just said something ridiculous. “Yes, our kids. Should at least have two. That way they’ve got like a built in friend. Ideally, a boy and a girl.”

Ashton can’t help himself as he leans forward to press his lips to Luke’s for a brief moment. Even dead tired and drunk, Luke sees him in his future, long term future too, not just next summer or something. He can taste the sweetness from the cereal and Luke’s toothpaste as he pulls away, dropping his hands from his cheeks so he can rinse the cereal bowl, the heaviness of the early hour really starting to weigh on him again.

“Have you picked out names yet?” Ashton asks Luke as he watches Ashton turn on the water and wash the leftover milk down the drain. Ashton looks up to see the blonde’s gentle smile as he pulls the blanket closer around his chest. 

Luke answers immediately, causing Ashton to blush since that means Luke has certainly thought about the question before. “I like Matilda - like from the movie? - for a girl. And I think your middle name would be nice for a boy. Both sound nice with Irwin, too.”

“So they’ll have my last name then?” Ashton asks with a smirk, his eyes still soft with the love for his boy.

“Yeah, I always thought so. I mean, I want to have it one day too so the kids probably should as well.”

Ashton rounds the counter again, moving back to stand between Luke’s legs. He pulls the hair tie from his curls and cards his hands through them. “You’ve thought a lot about our future, huh?”

“Have you not?” Worry briefly crosses Luke’s eyes.

Ashton shakes his head. “No, of course I have,” he starts, one of his hands reaching down to hold Luke’s. He always liked how their hands looked like they were meant to hold the other’s. “I had just always thought on the end of making sure we could find jobs in the same place, that we find a city both of us like, introducing the parents to each other next spring like we planned. Thought about how I might propose but hadn’t gotten into the logistics of names and such. You really want to take mine?”

Luke’s lip pouts out some as he nods. “Yeah, I do. Is that okay?”

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

He watches then as a blush slowly creeps up to Luke’s cheeks, though they’re still pink from the liquor he’d had earlier. Ashton coaxes him to standing, their hands still clasped, and he uses his free one to pull the blanket from Luke’s shoulders to drop on the couch as they pass by. For a moment, he squeezes their palms together before letting go to shuffle to the opposite side of the bed, pulling off the flannel before sliding back beneath the covers. 

Luke immediately slides his body to press against Ashton’s side, his face dropping to nuzzle it’s way into Ashton’s neck, letting his lips just barely brush against the black haired boy’s shoulder. Their legs slot together beneath the sheets. Ashton had always been thankful for the immediate calm that would wash over his body when pressed as close as he could be to Luke. He liked not having to worry about him letting go. (In what way he means that, he’s not really sure.) He’s just seconds away from sleep when he hears Luke whisper, his lips dancing delicately against Ashton’s skin as he speaks.

“Love you, Ash. Glad I got to find you.”

“I love you, Luke,” Ashton sighs back as the calm settles again.

And as he lets their fingers tangle together again against his bare chest, Ashton finds himself wondering if the action will feel different when they’ve got the wedding bands he’s hidden beneath a stack of t shirts in his chest of drawers resting on their fourth fingers.

*

[xymrcs]

this thing on? hello boys, girls and nb’s! 𝐕𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 here is a singer, fashion designer, businesswoman and actress. this is an official plot call for those looking to connect/plot. i’m lookin’ for the good developmental shit so if you not coming with it, play in your batty not in my IM’s. also lookin’ for some creatives (ie; songwriters, producers, video directors) to contribute to her upcoming album. below the cut is some expanded information on the muse as well as some connects i’m in search of. IM’s open loves!

                               ⌥  ⁏ ◍  ::   𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄  ⌥  xymira indre fenton

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄/𝐀𝐆𝐄  ⌥  may. 13. 1988 ( 32 )

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍  ⌥  bridgetown, barbados

𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒  ⌥   taurus sun, aries moon, cancer rising

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒  ⌥  vogue (stagename) mimi, mira

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐋𝐒  ⌥  she/her

𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋/𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍  ⌥  bisexual/biromantic

𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄  ⌥   caribbean 

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘    ⌥   estp

𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓/ 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 ⌥  chaotic neutral/choleric

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒  ⌥  the moon, the ocean, drinking, fashion, all nighters, orange, vintage memorabilia, nicknames, hot showers, lucid dreams, cult classic anime, dragonfruit, leopards.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒  ⌥  bbqs, gray, patterns, centipedes, candy, grapes, daydreaming, stand up comedy, flowers, rabbits, kitten heels. 

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍  ⌥ xymira currently battles the conflict of commercial success or creative control. she hasn’t released an album since 2015 and refuses to create music that doesn’t speak for her own artistry. she’s grown bored of the music industry and the way women are treated, secretly hiding for years that she’d been assaulted by a talent agent when she was a teenager new to the industry. the assault is apart of the reason she has a hard time in committed relationships. she’s went through the rise, the fall and the comeback during the hey days of her career and she feels she’s done it all. her focus is mainly on expanding her businesses, placing majority of her time into an entrepreneurship to partly avoid dealing with her inner demons but to prove she doesn’t need to depend on any man in her life to be well off. 

                              ⌥  ⁏ ◍  ::   𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘

⌥  𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌 ! ⁏ — essentially her partner in crime/best friend MUSE and XYMIRA met at an afterparty years ago when one was a little drunk than the other, surprising each other at their interest for a good time no matter the occasion. at first the pair were just clubbing partners but eventually drew closer due to similarities in their personal lives. growing very closed-off towards her industry peers, MUSE is the closest to XYMIRA and the only person she confides to. ( OPEN / MALE )

⌥  𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄 ! ⁏ — longtime on-and-off again lovers, MUSE and XYMIRA tried to get serious with each other circa. 2016 and even got engaged two years later. both being insanely famous, they were hollywood’s it couple. when the engagement was called off in early 2020 news outlets ran with whatever story that sounded the most convincing but the truth was XYMIRA felt her relationship with MUSE had become consumed with a power imbalance, MUSE making her feel like she needed him both financially and emotionally. ( OPEN / MALE )

⌥  𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈�� 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 ! ⁏ — another ex of XYMIRA’s, they can be described as being on ‘good’ terms unlike the previous relationship. the two quietly dated between 2014 and 2015 before deciding to remain friends due to XYMIRA not feeling ready to commit. so when news broke that she’d gotten engaged some years later, MUSE was vocal about the energy not being kept and the two fell out. as friends are, MUSE was still there for XYMIRA while she went through her issues. as it stands now, they have a complicated and futile relationship. they’ve unknowingly attempted to rekindle their relationship but neither want to let their pride go and let each other know how they really feel yet they’re perfectly fine with bedding one another. ( CLOSED / MALE )

⌥ 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄 '𝐎𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 ! ⁏ — a three-way plot inspired by the naomi vs. rih situation MUSE A and XYMIRA were industry acquainted and what the media considered friends. they attended dinners together, were all smiles and hugs on red carpets and sat next to each other at fashion events. MUSE B is/was a mutual between MUSE A and XYMIRA; being MUSE A’s on-and-off again boyfriend and a close friend of XYMIRA’s. years prior to MUSE A and XYMIRA meeting, she’d had a very short-lived fling with MUSE B. MUSE A was aware of this bc it was public information but XYMIRA and MUSE B made it clear they were just friends and she had nothing to worry about. things grow sour between MUSE A and XYMIRA when pictures surface of MUSE B and XYMIRA out together while they’re off. MUSE B admits truthfully to MUSE A that he’s reconnected with and is casually dating XYMIRA which leads to her feeling a way. XYMIRA doesn’t see an issue because she’d known MUSE B before MUSE A and didn’t consider MUSE A a close friend. This leads to a spat on social media (tweets, leaked numbers) shady interviews, and some animosity at events. ( CLOSED  / M&F )

[maggotmouth]

APHRODITE & ARES — no choir.

        hllo!! this is a thread moosh ( @svlhouette ) n i started (bt never finished) for the gods event between aphrodite & ares. there’s only 4 replies / sections but i’ve put it below a read more bc i dont wanna clog the dash up! i didnt know wht to call it so i called it no choir, felt apt. listen to it if u like. its a song abt stillness n the temporary nature of love n ppl never remembering ur love story or smthn.

APHRODITE.

       she smells of lavender, warm honey on the tongue, of summer. of the seasons, aphrodite most resembles summer – the warmth, the pristine happiness that seems to spread like a virus under the coppice of a heatwave, the long afternoons that seem endless in youth and so distant when looking back in later years. 

       “tell me what you were like when you were little…” she murmurs, her index finger tracing against the skin of ares' abdomen, bare beneath egyptian cotton, the sweat of both their bodies still ripe in the aftermath of a heated, burning love. neither had spoken for what felt like half an hour, their bodies entwined like rope, tender touches and the lingering feeling of weightlessness. her free hand toys with a stalk of grapes, fingers reaching to press one into his mouth, and her finger lingers against his lips. “what were your dreams, your hopes? who did you want to become?” 

       hands against his chest ripe with the purple juice of suckling grapes from greedy fingertips, she’s swinging her leg over to straddle him, the hot flesh of her thighs against his hips. as she takes him in her arms her chest drops against the hard muscle of his own. her lips find his, not in a kiss, more of a tickle, gliding against the rough skin in a way that makes her quiver, her hips rocking against his stomach, hands trailing over a scar that marks his torso. her beautiful soldier.

      “i wish i’d met you when we were young. that we’d had more time.” 

       because despite the rare weekends when the god with whom she’s vowed to spend her life is gone from olympus, leaving her dutiless, free to roll her passion into the sweet pants of a feral love in their wedding bed with a man who could make her wet with just a look, it’s never enough. there’s always a hunger within her for more time, more love, more ways to unfurl his body into the sweet, tender shudder of ecstasy and memorise the twinge of every muscle, the way his face scrunches like a locked palm as he reaches it, and the way it feels to be the cause of that passion.

       her nose slides along the arch of his own from her position perched above him, knees locking around his waist, her hands travelling to cup around his throat. “do you think you’ll ever run out of hunger? cease to want me? or will it just feed on you until there’s nothing left. nothing but the memory of my kiss.”      

ARES.

      just another taste, and he’s lit to life with a hunger that goes beyond his control, and an addiction that never seizes to dwindle in intensity. he knows not whether the ordered matrimony speaks of his father’s anger towards her, or his hatred towards him — all he knows is that it drives a wedge into the chasm of their relationship, one that had been hanging from a thread in the first place.

       she asks him of his desires, of his youth, and he wishes he could speak words that mirror her essence of lavender, of the heat of july ... but all he’s ever known is the fever of bloodlust and the sea of loneliness he had been dropped into as a child. “more time,” he chooses to repeat, instead of allowing her the answer she searches for, calloused palms coming to press against the soft skin of her thighs and fingertips forming dips in her skin at his grip. oh, how she fits right in his grasp, as if his hands were formed for her and her alone.

      “for you, my love? never.” he speaks the truth, his words grazing over plump lips that had graced him with her taste. she had fallen into his grasp before he had known tenderness, and in a touch, she had managed to melt away decades of grief, of suffering, of not knowing his hands were capable of more than taking lives. and just like how gracefully she had been gifted to him, she had been ripped away by a petty feud. how utterly childish of his father.

     in a swift motion, he comes to roll across the expanse of his back, his grip tightening on her thighs as he effectively repositions the two of them, her back now pressed against the surface below and his hands now sinking into it. scarred hands gingerly push back locks cascading down her shoulder, revealing otherwise flawless skin marred by marks of his love. “and you? do you yearn for me while sleeping besides him every night? have you missed my touch against your skin?” dipping his head below, he comes to press his lips against the column of her neck, chaste kisses decorating her skin before he continues, “or do you call me here out of loneliness?”

APHRODITE.

         they've learned to understand each other in half-translated languages, touch -- once so foreign to him unless in the carnage of war -- slowly becoming a tongue he can recognise, reciprocate, pluck apart the vowels of and mimic in his own voice. still there are secrets that stretch further than the valleys of olympus ever could, there are silences they cannot ignore, and their are childhoods and histories too bloodsoaked for him to unearth, even for her. "we don't have to talk about it," aphrodite utters, a kiss pressed against the softness of his lips, and this is what it means to be a part-time lover. it comes only with the understanding that despite their heavenly bodies and the tales that the mortals will sing of them, theirs will be a story riddled with strife. perhaps that's the saddest kind of tragedy -- when two people who love each other can't be together -- but tragedies have always been her favourite kinds of tales. they breed the best lovers.

         he tells her that he'll never cease to want her, though she's seem the flame of zeus' love flicker and die, seen the ways he seeks out other women to quench his boredom, and she finds herself idly wondering if ares will be the same when she is not so new or exciting and there are younger nymphs whose love puts less at stake than the kingdoms their love could unmake.

        "never is an awfully long time, fair ares," her breath escapes in a laugh, the roll of their skin made paramount as he places himself above her. there's always a push and pull when it comes to love and lust, so often the same thing when she's buried in his arms, the giving and taking of power like a rush to lovers that time can't compete with. "loneliness..." aphrodite utters, her lips twisting into a gasp as he meets her neck with his mouth. she hungers for the cut of his teeth. "you're just a body, at the end of the day... i'm sure a mortal could sate me as easily." she's toying with him like a cat does string, though it'll only make it more rewarding. games are a common tongue between them, hips rolled like they're dice in a constant battle of who'll crack first. "maybe moreso. there's something exhilarating about the futility of it. from dust they come and to dust they shall return. whereas you'll be here forever... less poignant." can he smell the lies on her teeth? a mortal could never match him. a god never could. the sun itself is no match for the heat he makes her feel.

ARES.

       just a body. her words bite, seemingly with teeth sharp enough to pierce skin, but he’s become accustomed to such harmless words masquerading as sharp edged glass, meant to hurt him, meant to push him away. a slight curve of his lips take her words deep into his chest, turn them around, examine them and mull them over, before they’re spit out and labeled as unsatisfactory. “a mere mortal? then why not call upon one in your times of loneliness? why take the risk in angering zeus with our secret affairs when another could sate you just as well?” or perhaps that was exactly the reason why — out of spite for the one who had entrapped her in such a situation ... but then there are glances spared towards one another on days lacking such intimacy, when diplomacy is the setting and their love has no place to settle, and he swears she feels a love for him identical to the one that burns so brightly for her.

      a kiss, one with much more strength parts his lips and attaches itself to her neck, drawn out by her gasp. the soft noises that slip past her wine tainted petals leave him wanting more, an unfortunate addiction he cannot seem to curb, despite the warnings that have been laid upon his neck by his father. did the risk push him further into her arms? or was it that while he overlooked the words lacking in what he truly desired to hear, there was a deep fear that she spoke the truth, and there was an urgency to change her mind?     

       he’s a fool, and he knows this. the mortals sing of it, though they do not know the depth of it, not when it comes to her. even through words that hold none of the feelings he desires, even kept hidden in the shadows, he’s still fully and wholly hers. tainted hands intertwined deeper within her locks, fingertips grazing against the width of them as they fall through like silk. “tell me. why do you return to me?”

[thesnapewecandreamof]

I’m so glad you liked Matthew’s character Anon! Let’s get the continuation first and then I’ll ramble on so people not interested could skip that part! Song is Everything Stay from Adventure Time.(Part of the reason this took so long was bc I was searching for an appropriate song and I always get lost in youtube!)

Everything Stays

- Despite regaining consciousness, Severus was not out of the woods yet. It took weeks, many potions, and an infinite supply of patience for all parties involved. 

- The healers informed Matthew that there was nothing they could do for the nervous damage Severus suffered and Matthew insisted he be the one to tell Severus the bad news. 

- He was a healer himself and he has been tasked with telling the bad news to many families before but despite that he tried to stave off the inevitable. But he knew the pain would be greater the more he stalled so one night, after the Hogwarts staff have left and Severus just finished his meal, Matthew sat on the edge of the bed and took the potion master’s hand in his. His heart panged  at the title.

- Severus looked at their interlocked hands and sighed, “It will never go away would it?” Matthew has once again underestimated Severus, his eyes met black and he bit his lip to hold in the tears. “You have been looking a bit anxious the past few days and since the healers are certain I wouldn’t be keeling over any time soon-” Severus shrugged, not finishing his sentence.

- “I’m sorry.” Matthew tightened his grip as Severus’ arm twitched. He refused to let his emotions get the better of him and the healer in him took the wheel. “I’ve contacted some colleagues, they might find something to help with the spasms and the twitches but-” Matthew stopped, electing to shrug himself. 

- He felt the pressure of Severus squeezing his hand and he smiled as tears fell.

Let’s go in the garden, you’ll find something waiting. 

Right there where you left it, lying upside-down.

- It was difficult. Severus eventually grew weary of maintaining the mask and Matthew found it frustrating how he cannot heal the person he cared for most.

- “You should have left me to die.” Severus said once when the fits got too much, when his whole body seized. Matthew sees it in his eyes whenever he knocks over a glass of water. All of their utensils are now plastic and Severus scowls at it whenever he could. “You know I couldn’t do that.” Matthew replies, ever patient.

- “I have no use. I was a potions master, Matthew, now I can’t even hold my own spoon for Merlin’s sake!”

- Matthew himself couldn’t always be the patient saint. He was a healer and he had a duty to his patients. When he comes home, exhausted and wanting nothing but to sleep, he sometimes let’s out the infamous temper of his and he and Severus would get into a row. 

When you finally find it, you’ll see that it’s faded

the under-side is lighter when you turn it around.

- They now have someone to always watch Severus when he was away. During a week-end when it was only Severus and Matthew, the healer had to put a vial of muscle relaxing potion in the bedside table so that he could answer an emergency floo call. When he returned it was as if a fog rolled in their bedroom despite it remaining the same. There was something different but he couldn’t quite place it. He asked Severus if everything was alright and he said that nothign was out of place so Matthew chalked it up to nerves and stress.

- That night he heard shuffling and soft muttered curses. He woke up to Severus trying his best to remain silent as he packed away clothes. “Are you planning a surprise trip? Our anniversary isn’t for another three months.” He yawned though he was alert and awake.

- Severus sighed and sat down, facing away from him. “I don’t belong here, - no, don’t say anything- I don’t Matthew, I-” Severus took a deep breath, “I’m tired.” And Matthew listened to Severus as months of pain and frustration is finally let out. How he feels worthless, feels like he’s holding Matthew back, making himself a burden to the healer. Matthew’s heart broke as he saw Severus trying to keep himself together, his muscles twitching, making him even more frustrated. The grace his love once had is gone and Matthew feared something more was missing.He lowered himself to the floor and leaned his forehead on the back of Severus’ shoulder. 

- He whispered every argument he has, planned responses to what he knew as coming and added new things he thought of as he spoke. Severus remained silent through his talk and he allowed Matthew to help him back to the bed. 

- The next day Matthew and Severus spent a day in the garden and though it was difficult, Severus was set on ushering life to Matthew’s lifeless plot of land. Any distraction was welcome and should this fail, surely there were others he could turn his attention to? He already received a dictaquill from a former student, but he could only talk for so long before growing bored himself. 

Everything stays, right where you left it

Everything stays, but it still changes

-It wasn’t an overnight fix. They still had fights, normal rows that couples have. They still work through Severus’ depression and Matthew always makes sure that any glass in the house was charmed unbreakable.

- When the first row of flowers bloomed, Matthew nearly teared up at the sight of Severus’ smile.

- When Severus grew more confident and grew some magical plants, Matthew was stunned at how Severus could say such a self-deprecating joke and have the gall to wink at him. 

Ever so slightly,

 daily and nightly

- When Matthew found himself with Severus, lying under the shade of a tree and the smell of flowers surrounding them, he looked back on all the things they’ve been through. 

- All the pain of thinking it was the last time he and Severus would see each other, the worry every time he had to treat his lover, the anger at how Severus could leave him every time in order to play the perfect spy. Matthew still had nightmares about finding Severus on the verge of death, nightmares only Severus himself could comfort him from. 

- He could feel his eyes water when he thought of how things could have ended so horribly. He felt Severus’ hand jerk in his before the comforting pressure he grew to love. He looked to the side and saw Severus with his lip upturned and he grinned.

In little ways,

when everything stays.

I didn’t want to make it too angsty! Anyway, so glad you enjoyed Matthew’s character anon, I wasn’t too sure people would like him. I don’t create too many ocs and I prefer to use canon characters only in my fics because A. it takes me so long to find a good name, B. I already live in fear of making canon characters a mary sue, I think ocs are a higher risk in that department but that could be just me.

I’ll write more of Matthew and Severus when inspiration strikes or if someone has a prompt for them. 

I’m working on yet another wip in which Severus suffers from long-term cruciatus so I didn’t want to elaborate too much on stuff here lest I become even more repetitive. 

[clerithraven]

PAST VS PRESENT: YOUNG LOVE VS EVERLASTING LOVE

When talking about Cloud and Aerith, it’s unavoidable for fans to voice their support of Aerith’s past love, Zack Fair. In fact, a lot of fans still linger on this ship and claim it’s Aerith’s true love. However, Aerith had already gotten over Zack by the time the game started. Theirs was one of a young love – a “puppy love” if you will, that was never meant to last.

Zack falls to the Church of the Slum during his mission and ends up meeting the girl Aerith, who's trimming flowers. They both feel contented simply with each other's company; it's a platonic love. They think these kinds of happy days will last forever, but... ~Zack's profile; Crisis Core Ultimania

They attract to each other by mutual feelings similar to friendship, because they're both juvenile, if you call it love... ~Crisis Core Ultimania

They were never serious – Zack and Aerith. Aerith states as much in the game.

Aerith: Just the same as him. Cloud: The same as who?  Aerith: My first boyfriend. Cloud: You were… serious? Aerith: No. But I liked him for a while. Cloud: I probably knew him. What was his name?”  (Aerith shakes her head.) Aerith: It doesn’t really matter. ~FFVII Script

I just have to point out how Cloud seems interested to know whether Aerith and her first boyfriend were serious. The game could have done without it, but the creators of FF7 deemed it was a nice touch to imply Cloud’s romantic interest in Aerith.

You have to admit this happens in fiction and in real life. Yeah, you can argue that even a remotely curious friend could have asked the same thing, but this exchange happened between two characters of the game who have been promoted as people involved in “a love that could never be.”

Another quote about how the relationship wasn’t that serious:

Although called my first love, that doesn’t mean that we became particularly intimate. I encountered him by chance as a flower vendor in Midgar. It was good for a little while, so I thought. ~Aerith’s monologue; Dismantled

So, how was the end of Zack and Aerith’s love affair made known to players? Aerith’s final letter for Zack in Crisis Core.

Aerith: Are you doing well? Where are you? It's been 4 years. This will be the 89th letter I've written but I will not send out any more. I hope that you receive this last letter. Zack! The flowers are selling very well. It makes everyone smile. It's all thanks to you. Aerith. ~Aerith's 89th and final letter to Zack; Crisis Core

Zack, the so-called ‘first boyfriend/love’, wasn’t even seriously invested in the relationship.

CLOUD & ZACK IN THE TRUCK:

On the way of escape to Midgar, which girlfriend did Zack plan to ask help from? ~Zack’s info; FFVII Ultimania, p.83 

No offense meant for the ship, but this clearly proves how Zack wasn’t the least bit faithful to Aerith. The quote above implies that Zack had another girlfriend, or more. And we know Zack wasn’t planning on returning to Aerith.

Zack: What’re you gonna do when we get to Midgar? (Cloud continues to bob his head.)  Cloud: ……… (Zack stands.)  Zack: I know what I’m gonna do. (He crosses his arms)  Zack: I got a place I can crash for a while… (He turns to Cloud)  Zack: No wait, the mother lives there, too… (He scratches his head.) Zack: Guess that’s out… (He shakes his head. Cloud continues to bob his.)  Cloud: ……… Zack: Yep… gotta change my plans!

Source: z/erith isn’t canon anymore

You would think that Zack would surely be going back to where Aerith was because he was so in love with her – oh wait, he wasn’t. He’s not even gonna attempt to get back to stay with Aerith because she lived with Elmyra. Taking into consideration what the Ultimania asked about “which girlfriend was Zack planning to ask help from”, this implies that Zack has another girlfriend, definitely not Aerith, he would stay with. This just proves how Zack wasn’t the least bit devoted to Aerith, being the playboy that he was. It was something Aerith was aware of.

“Zack loves women, a real lady’s man” Like what Aerith recalled in FF7, Zack is very good at hitting on girls, and is skilled at flirting. In BC, he used to compliment a female member of Turks during a mission; in CC, he also invited Cissnei, a member from Turks, to dine together. Since “one who steals an egg will steal an ox”, Zack’s girlfriend, Aerith, maybe felt impatient about this….? ~Zack’s info; FFVII Ultimania, p.83

Source: Zack is a playboy and Aerith knew it

Considering all that, once Aerith and Zack saw each other again in the Lifestream, our flower girl gave the playboy a piece of her mind.

Zack: Man, you know Aerith. Out of all the girls I’ve gotten along with, you truly are the best. After that mission, we could’ve stayed the way we were and might have been able to continue to go out with each other after I returned home. I hate Sephiroth. And I hate Shinra who’s been hiding all the stuff they’ve  been doing. Aerith: Someone who’s gotten along with so many girls can never become a lover. Zack: How mean. I’m nice to everyone. Aerith: And that’s your bad point. You’re not simplistic and awkward like Cloud. ~Maiden of the Planet

Aerith knew how much of a ladies’ man Zack was. This may have been the reason she didn’t really take their relationship seriously, although she did remain faithful to him. Enough to send out 89 letters to Zack over the years even after no communication came from him.

The end of the conversation also has Aerith pointing out how Zack’s friendliness with so many females disqualifies him as a lover. When Zack defends himself as a nice person to everyone, Aerith counters it by pointing out that it as his bad point. She also goes on to imply that Cloud’s qualities of being simplistic and awkward make Cloud the better choice.

Aerith further distances herself from Zack in the following conversation:

Zack: But whenever you feel lonely, call me Aerith. Aerith: Only if I get really lonely. Goodnight, Zack. ~Maiden of the Planet

Why am I even mentioning Zack in an essay about Cloud and Aerith’s love? I’ll get to that shortly. First, take a look at the following comments.

Aerith's first love is Zack, the object of Cloud's basic personality of being an "ex-SOLDIER". We could say Cloud's speaking and acting like Zack is a big reason why Aerith started to have good feelings towards Cloud. ~FFVII Ultimania Omega, pg. 29

"I'm looking for you."..."So you won't have a beakdown." - what Aerith told Cloud had many deep meanings. Aerith detected that the present Cloud is not the real him during their encounters. She knows it because of her mysterious, inherent ability. ~ FFVII Ultimania Omega, pg. 29

When Aerith thinks of Cloud and Zack’s similarities, she sees that the present Cloud is not the real Cloud. Her meaningful lines like, “I’m searching for you” and “I want to meet you” all mean that she has discovered the existence of the real Cloud, although he’s not aware of it himself. ~FFVII Ultimania Omega, pg. 31

“So you won’t have a breakdown..”  Aerith appears in Cloud’s dream, and she seems to console him with such advice. This line can infer that Aerith has seen through to the essence of Cloud.  ~ FFVII Ultimania Omega, pg. 156

I know fans that have held onto the belief that Aerith never got to know the real Cloud, but instead was just seeing Zack in Cloud. On the contrary, Aerith knew how Cloud wasn’t acting much like himself at all and wanted to find the “real” him. And although it was the similarities that initially drew Aerith in, she soon comes to see how different they were and develops genuine interest in Cloud himself, as evidenced by the following quote:

Although in the beginning, Aerith felt close to Cloud because he behaved like Zack,��her interest in Cloud himself grows and she is attracted to him. ~FFVII Ultimania Omega, pg. 31

The initial attraction Aerith held towards Cloud grew even deeper, with Aerith falling in love with everything about him. Whatever she had felt for Zack, it doesn’t compare with what Aerith now feels for Cloud.

Aerith was in even greater pain when she thought about Cloud.

She also had good feelings towards him. At first, she thought he somehow had some similarities to her first love. Even so, his looks, voice and personality weren't similar and he also made her think of him as a mysterious person... But it soon didn't matter. She loved him much more than her first love. Cloud was her hero and he couldn’t get away from danger. She saw him as someone full of confidence, cool and had the impression that he would disappear in an instant if she took her eyes off him. She wanted to stay by his side forever if she could. She really wanted to. ~Maiden of the Planet

At first when I met Cloud, I believed he was similar to Zack. Little actions, the way he spoke… his kindness. But Cloud is Cloud. I, now undoubtedly, love Cloud much more than Zack. ~Aerith’s monologue in Gongaga; Dismantled

If that wasn’t clear enough, let me repeat it: Aerith’s current feelings of love for Cloud surpasses her past feelings for Zack.

JAPANESE: クラウドは女の友人であり、恋人であり  FRENCH: Cloud avait ete son ami, et son amant GERMAN: Cloud war ihr Freund, ihr Geliebter English translation: Cloud was the woman’s friend, and lover… ~Case of Lifestream: White; Translated from the Japanese, French and German versions

Whether in fiction or in real life, it is not uncommon for a person to be interested in another potential romance because of physical similarities to an old one. There is absolutely no reason for those involved not to recognize how a current attraction differs from the past as they get to know more about each other. So please don’t use Aerith’s observation of the similarities between Cloud and Zack as a case against the fact that Aerith truly fell in love with Cloud as who is really is as the game progressed, especially when Aerith, the very woman whose feelings are questioned, stated as much so many times.

Whatever Zack and Aerith had before, it’s all in the past and Aerith has put it behind her. And despite what the fans of the Z/erith ship would like you to believe, Aerith isn’t the least bit interested in getting back together with him.

Cloud is Aerith’s present and her future, even if that future is one wherein she stays in the Lifestream. Our flower girl is wholly and utterly devoted to her bodyguard. In fact, Aerith will be waiting for Cloud when he finally finds her in the Promised Land.

NOTE: Take this as me setting you up for the essay which will cover Aerith’s selfless love for and devotion to Cloud, which I will get to posting after I lay more of the groundwork.

Sources: [X] ; [X]