#jealousy is a beast

[flyingwargle]

natsu is in the nurse’s office while the aforementioned nurse is speaking with her brother in the hallway, their voices low with scattered words drifting toward her. she knows they're finished when hinata says, “thank you very much for all your help. i’ll take care of her.”

she hops off the cot and grabs her bag as he returns to her. “are we going home?” she mumbles.

“yeah, yamaguchi is waiting for us. thank you, again.” hinata bows to the nurse. “we’ll keep in touch.”

they exit the school building and head for the parking lot, where yamaguchi awaits. her brother was with him when he got the call, apparently. natsu gives him a small bow before climbing in the backseat, putting her bag in between her and hinata. yamaguchi starts the car. “should i just drop you off at home?”

“yes, please,” hinata says. his friend nods and starts driving toward the main road.

natsu avoids conversation by staring out the window, watching the mountain scenery blur by. hinata and yamaguchi make small talk, discussing a dinner with their friends over the weekend, and a possible guest appearance at a volleyball club before he returns to osaka. their home appears on the horizon, and natsu doesn’t wait for the engine to stop to unclick her seatbelt. “thank you, yama-nii.”

she reaches the front door first, fishes her keys out to unlock it. hinata joins her, kicks his shoes off after her. he switches on the lights after natsu walks by, heading straight to her room. “natsu, wait.”

hinata is quiet, patient. natsu rests a hand on her door, head bowed. “do you want to talk about it?” he asks. “the nurse said you collapsed from overworking. are you feeling pressured? is there anything you need help with?”

he sounds so concerned. she kind of wishes he wasn’t. “no.”

“you're probably hungry. i'll make dinner.”

she shrugs, entering her room without another word. behind the door, her brother calls out, “i’ll let you know once it’s ready!” it isn’t often that he comes home to visit, usually just for a few days at a time throughout the year. they call and text daily, and natsu is usually proud to be hinata shoyo’s younger sister.

but sometimes, it’s more of a burden than she’d like to admit.

not wanting to nap while she’s still sweaty, she sits on the floor with her phone, scrolling aimlessly through instagram. she and her teammates follow each other, tagged in one another’s photos from their hangouts, short clips from practice that show successful serves, sets, and spikes. she comes across a post from jva, which is a highlights reel of impressive plays during the last season. her brother’s miraculous save during the hornets game is one of the first shown.

it doesn’t make sense to be jealous. there’s nothing to compare; he’s a professional athlete, and she’s still in high school. just because they're related doesn’t mean she has the same jumping height, flexibility, or adaptability. his skills come from years of practice, discipline, and experience. while she does the same, it isn’t at the same level, not when she has school, friends, and other hobbies. she isn’t a volleyball idiot like her brother, even though she loves it, too. she isn’t him.

and yet people continue to think that she is.

her phone screen becomes blurry. natsu puts it aside, rubs her eyes to stop the tears, but they keep coming. her thoughts are a jumbled mess. i want to be like him.

 i’m not like him.

he’s on a different level than me, and i can’t reach it.

if i train hard enough, i could pass him.

he’s an asset to his team, and i’m just another spiker.

i can be valuable too, if i can do half the things he does.

i don’t want to embarrass him. i don’t want him to have a little sister who sucks at volleyball–

knocks interrupt her thoughts. “natsu?”

she buries her head under her blanket as the door opens. hinata hesitates for a moment before he asks, “what are you doing?”

“what do you want?” natsu asks, grateful that her voice didn’t waver.

"the fridge is empty, so i thought to order takeout." he sits on the edge of her bed. “what are you craving?”

“it doesn’t matter. whatever is okay.”

“all right.” still, he doesn’t leave.

this sucks. natsu needs to clear her nose, tears still pooling in her eyes, staining her bed sheet. when she exhales, it’s through a shudder, which is all her brother needs to hear. “you aren’t fine, natsu. will you talk to me about it? unless…” he falls silent. “unless the problem is me?”

“no.” she sniffles.

“it is. i know you’re terrible at lying.”

natsu throws the blanket off her head to face him, red-eyed, nose streaming. “fine, it is. these girls in my class keep comparing me to you, saying that i’m an embarrassment to the team, and i- i don’t deserve to be on the court with how terrible i am.” her words turn into a mumble. “my jump serves suck. my crosses are all over the place. i don’t know how to aim my wipes. then there’s you, who can do everything and more, and i- i’m just–“

“let me stop you there, natsu.” his hand grips her shoulder, firm and reassuring. “first, those girls don’t know anything; you can’t compare a high school athlete to a pro. second, don’t just focus on the negative, but the positive. your defense is solid, and so are your straights. i’ve seen you play – it’s because of you that your teammates can score. i know it might feel like you aren’t good enough, but are we, ever?”

“do you ever think that?” natsu murmurs.

“of course. i think of how powerful bokuto-san’s spikes are all the time, or how omi-san can get so many service aces, or how atsumu-san can pull off just about any set. and me? sure, i’m an all-rounder, but there’s nothing that i’m really good at–“

“no, that’s not true! you can score so many points with your wipes! and your jumping height only gets higher and higher, like you’ll touch the sky! and, and–“

hinata laughs, catching natsu by surprise. he smiles at her, raising his hand to ruffle her hair. “you should hear yourself. if you can say all of that to me and believe it, then you should believe me when i tell you what you’re good at. we all grow at our own pace, natsu. i know you feel pressed for time since you’re in your second year, but it’s okay. you’re doing all you can, and you don’t need to do more.”

“but what if the team loses because of me?” she whispers.

“there are six of you on the court. if you lose, it’s the team that loses.” he squeezes her shoulder. “tell me what you want to eat. while we wait, i can show you some clips of pros messing up to make you feel better."

“do they include miya-san?”

he grins. “of course.”

they settle at the table together, crowded around his tablet, waiting for the food to arrive. when it does, they eat, continue to laugh at miya (natsu makes sure to laugh at other players, too) and himself, the tension from earlier in the day fading.

before it’s time for bed, hinata approaches her. “natsu, don’t ever think we’re the same. that’s because you’re you, and you have your own way of playing. no matter how you play or what you do, i’ll always be proud of you.”

her hand is on the doorknob, a smile on her face. “thanks, nii-chan. i appreciate that.”

“get some rest. i’ll bring you to practice and show those girls a lesson.”

“no, nii-chan, you better not!” her laugh is a warm sound that echoes through the night.

[katyspersonal]

Flora being the actual name of Moon Presence matches so well, actually? (Apparently the "nameless" bit was edited out of Japanese original and localizations simply didn't catch up with that, but yeah... although Gehrman addressing her as Flora is a cut content dialogue, paired with the fact that "nameless" bit was retracted I think it is safe to assume that Doll does say her name and not like.. just Kin plant-life in general!)

But, again, Flora. Like, plants. In Bloodborne lore, plants, more specifically flowers, reach for the 'Stars' in the sky! Sun itself is also a star, and the Moon only shines because reflecting the light of the Sun, so, because of the star. It is played as though she is "superior" compared to the 'stars', but it only makes sense that as a 'moon' she is jealous and usurps the power! It is in how Moon doesn't glow itself and is just a dark rock no one can see without reflecting the light of the star, and how the flora(plantlife) in Bloodborne reaches for the star. This is just so clever

[doyouknowhowtowaltz]

I had a beastnoch dream last night. Beast and Enoch had a child named Blom. She was like. A tiger made of shadows. Anyway the beast didn't tell Enoch she existed and Enoch tried to? Kill her? So then the beast killed him. It was very dramatic.

[sabraeal]

fruit of the bitter tree, Chapter 1 [King's Beast | Ou no Kemono, Taihaku/Rangtsu]

[Read on AO3]

Written for @obiyuki-beebs, who has been a long time sufferer of this B-ship with me. One of the newer OnK chapters came out right before I asked for her birthday request, while we were both still wallowing in the DREAD GRIP of this pairing, and I was all too happy to be the first person to write fic for these idiots.

The decision to take on a new aide is one Tenyou-sama does not make lightly. The pavilion of the fourth prince has always been leanly staffed— at least according to Taihaku, who grumbles each time he tallies up the two ajin guards and one civil servant that populate the sprawling palace— but with the increased responsibility of becoming third prince—

“You can’t possibly expect me to take this on alone,” Taihaku tells him, belatedly— if reverently— tacking on, “Your Highness.”

Rangetsu does not naturally speak out both sides of her mouth, not the way the other courtiers do— the way Taihaku can, his words still light despite the weight of the double meaning they carry. But she has learned to listen for them, for the lacuna between breaths, for the way eyes often shoulder the burden that voices cannot. And Taihaku’s is all too plain.

A prince might suffer so few servants, the twitch in his cheeks mutters as the vein in his temple shouts, but an emperor cannot.

Tenyou-sama receives both rebukes with the same abashed bemusement as he takes most of Taihaku’s scoldings, head just barely bowed and smile strained at the corners.

“Of course.” One hand curling open, his magnanimity as reflexive as his kindness. “You are right, as always.”

Caught halfway through forming his next argument, chest puffed large as a bellows, Taihaku practically deflates, hollowed out beneath the tense line of his shoulders. “Oh. Ah. Are you really—?” His teeth snap around the rest of the question, dispelling it with a clearing of his throat. “I mean, thank you, master. Your wisdom is unimpeachable.”

One side of Tenyou-sama’s mouth twitches, stretching toward a smirk. “In this matter, at least. I have full trust that you will pick out someone suitable.”

“Me?” Taihaku’s jaw falls slack, one hand raised to sweep back the fall of his fringe before he remembers himself. “You mean—? Wouldn’t you rather select…?”

This time Tenyou-sama allows himself the smirk, one elegant brow sweeping up the smooth expanse of his forehead. Rangetsu’s fingers itch to trace its path. “You’re not the only one with more work, you know.”

“Ah…” Confusion converts to consternation, a bright flush creeping up from the collar of Taihaku’s robe, painting up the tense column of his neck. “Right. Of course.”

Tenyou-sama may be beautiful in that way that blossoms flutter on the breeze, or snow gathers on stone, but it’s Taihaku the palace maids giggle over. There’s something pleasant about his mouth, she’d heard one say, after he asked her to change out the arrangements in the fourth prince’s pavilion. I like watching him speak.

Rangestu had tried to see it— she’d had plenty of opportunity when he’d found her next, since he’d launched right into an impassioned lecture on the number of feet the fourth prince’s guards should keep on the ground when at court. Through all the sneering and snorting and snide remarks, she hadn’t found much of it pleasant to say the least.

But there is something about the way his jaw works that attracts her attention now; the jump of the tendon, perhaps, as it sets, or how delicately his throat bobs when it swallows. Or perhaps it is merely the grit of his teeth, the smile that is more nerves than nicety as he says, “I won’t let you down.”

Like an ajin’s, she realizes. That’s what his smile is like. And when she angles her own up to him, chasing his heels as he stomps out the door, he scowls back.

“Don’t,” he warns, darkly, “even think about making more work for me.”

“I was just wondering,” she says, trotting past his shoulders. “If my brother still has that liquor the Kougai-sama gave him.”

*

“This is just like him!” Beside her and Sogetsu, it is easy to forget that Taihaku’s official title was guard rather than aide for the first stumbling years of her tenure. But there is strength in the arm that he drops, leaving the table trembling beneath its weight. “I tell him there’s a problem, and then he— he goes off and gives me the power to fix it! Because gods forbid he actually…”

His voice drops to a mumble, muffled by the hand he curls over his mouth. Even with her ajin ears, Rangetsu can’t make out more than one word in five. Not that she needs to— when he gets like this, Taihaku cares more about airing his complaints than having them heard— but she still leans in, close enough one of her splayed knees brushes against his, and asks, “You don’t want to pick out the new servant?”

“What?” His hand lifts, burying itself in his hair rather than corners of his jaw. It’s not often she sees his eyes like this— unobstructed, no spray of fringe to hide the impatience in them. Or, sometimes, something she’s almost sure is fondness. “Of course I do. If I left it to Tenyou-sama, he’d pick someone like you.”

She blinks, filling his cup when he holds it out. “Ajin?”

His mouth curls around the cup’s edge. “Hopeless.”

*

Ichii joins them when the sakura first begins to bloom.

There’s petals tumbling in the air when Taihaku kneels at the bottom of the pavilion steps, leaning forward to lay prostrate at Tenyou-sama’s feet. They catch in his hair, dainty pink dotting inky black, like still water at twilight.

Standing at his shoulder, Rangetsu is glad for her mask— she cannot be sure what the third prince’s chief aide might do if he saw her smile, but it would almost certainly involve copying the worst poetry in the palace’s collection until her strokes were as fine as his. Or at least, until he got sick of disappointment.

His kowtow is serviceable, its execution technically perfect if lacking in abject devotion; the ideal model for the boy beside him, who hurries to make a more meaningful one.

Seated at the top of the steps, robed in pristine white and flanked by two ajin guards, Tenyou-sama is ethereal, more spirit than man and every inch an imperial prince. “This is the one you picked?”

“It is, Tenyou-sama.” Taihaku sits back on his heels, the veil of his fringe settling over his serious eyes. “Ichii recently passed the civil servant exam at its highest levels. Even amongst this year’s impressive showing of applications, he stood out in both the written and physical portions of the exam.”

Across Tenyou-sama’s elegant shoulders, Sogetsu meets her eyes, and even masked as he is, his amusement is plain. As is Tenyou-sama’s, his mouth unable to resist a wry tilt as he hums, “Did he?”

Taihaku’s brow furrows, frowning at their amusement. “Yes, Your Highness. I hope he meets your expectations.”

“If he was chosen by you, then I have every confidence he will.” He shifts, one hand curling under his chin as he adds, “It’s only….”

“Yes?” Taihaku prompts, impatience scraping the reverence off the edge of his voice.

“Well…” Tenyou-sama shifts, his own cheeks blooming with a dainty flush. “I would never have expected you to pick an ajin.”

*

“Don’t get any stupid ideas!” Taihaku glares over the rim of his sake cup, cheeks flushed with more than just alcohol now that both the boy and Tenyou-sama have been put to bed. “This doesn’t have anything to do with the two of you.”

Sogetsu’s lounge only makes the arch of his brow all the more insolent. “Is that so? Here I was, half convinced you might like us.”

“I meant what I said.” He glances between the two of them, shoulders hiked right up to his ears. “He’s the best of a bumper crop.”

Impressive, at his age. The boy is young— young enough for one dark ear to droop as she took him to his quarters, so tired he didn’t noticed until she clasped it between her two fingers and rubbed at the muscle beneath. Rangetsu had no memory of how her own ears came to stand so proudly— there was little occasion for tenderness in the crèche— but during her short-lived retirement, she saw one of the old farm wives doing the same to the litter of pups their best bitch had whelped, urging them to standing. It was supposed to be a kindness, but—

But Ichii had smacked her hand away, eyes wide all the way around, and told her, “That won’t be necessary.” His voice had cracked at the end, still high when he tersely bid her goodnight.

“And no one else would have taken him,” Sogetsu adds. It’s not a question.

“No.” Each syllable elbows its way out of his mouth, begrudging. Tenyou-sama may have made it possible for ajin males to serve as more than fodder on the battlefield, but few humans would hire an animal to balance the books. “They wouldn’t have.”

Her brother hums, taking another delicate sip from his own cup. “Their loss.”

“Yeah.” Taihaku shoves a hand through his hair, unveiled eyes meeting hers for a moment before skittering away. “You could say that.”

*

“Do you like your room?” Rangetsu had been breathless when she’d showed it to Ichii the night before— private quarters, with a washstand filled fresh each morning and night. It’s the sort of luxury children in the crèche would only whisper of behind their hands, the kind they would only see if they were taken as royal guards or managed to make a name for themselves among the other flowers in the red light district. “I could hardly sleep my first night here.”

There are few civil servants who could keep pace with two ajin guards— especially ones as tall as her and her brother— but the boy manages it with only the scantest scarcity of breath, his chin tilted up pridefully between his deadly bookends. “I have no complaints, Rangetsu-dono.”

She stares down at him. Only a single night here and already he sounds like Taihaku. “Really?”

His nose wrinkles above his already rumpled mouth. “Yes.”

“I slept on the floor.” Sogetsu leans down, hanging over the boy’s shoulder with a conspiratorial smirk. “The bed was too soft. Took me nearly a month to sleep there the whole night.”

Ichii’s mouth rounds. “R-really?”

Sogetsu nods, straightening into his usual saunter. “There’s no shame in struggle here— not like there is out there. If you have trouble adjusting, you need only speak up.”

“My room is just down the hall,” Rangetsu blurts out, eager to have Ichii turn to her with the same wide, reverent eyes he gives her brother. “And Sogetsu’s is down in the other direction! Taihaku, too, he’s right next to me, so if—”

“I will make sure not to disturb you.” It’s a solemn promise, one he makes with head bowed and shoulders square— and exactly what she didn’t want.

“No!” He startles as she slings around him, taking her next stretch of steps backward to make sure their eyes meet as she says, “Please, do! If there is anything, I am happy to help-- no matter how small!”

Ichii’s mouth falls slack around an, “Oh.”

“Don’t look at me,” Sogetsu drawls when the boy casts his curious eyes on him. “I expect you to keep your problems to daylight hours. And amusing, too, if you mean to drag me into them.”

“Taihaku will handle most of your academic education, but Sogetsu and I will be handling your martial training,” she adds, falling back into step beside him. “But if you’re struggling with anything, tell me right away! Taihaku is a great teacher, but if you need him to go slower, I can tell him to—”

Ichii’s mouth pulls thin, a narrow perforation in his unblemished face. “Thanks you, Rangetsu-dono,” he says, not sounding grateful in the least. “But I won’t need any help.”

“Oh my,” Sogetsu snorts, as the boy outpaces them, his small back disappearing around a corner. “For having pretended to be an adolescent boy so long, my dear, you certainly don’t know how to handle them.”

*

Ichii does, of course, need help. The civil service exam may have prepared him for a life of clerical work in honor of the emperor, but there are different expectations for a prince’s aide. A rounded reading list, for one, with a working grasp of both classic shi and the newer fu poetry— a subject that Taihaku bemoans her progress on even now— as well as exemplary skill in the use of the short sword.

Oddly enough, it’s the last that Ichii struggles with.

“He is physically gifted,” Sogetsu hums, squinting over the training yard. “Even though it’s clear he’s never touched a sword save to pass that exam.”

Tenyou-sama shifts on the bench, one arm lazily folded over the pavilion’s rail, watching Taihaku and Ichii trade blows below. Or rather, they would be, if Taihaku didn’t easily side step each of the boy’s swings, delivering a corrective tap to his side. “As all ajin are. I’m sure with a few more months of training, he’ll outstrip Taihaku with ease.”

“Me too.” Sogetsu tilts his head back, grin sharp as his knives. “Looks like it will be up to my dear sister to make sure our newest addition meets his potential.”

“He’s over-committing.” It’s obvious in the way his shoulder reaches with every swing, in how long it takes him to recover his footing with each dodged blow. “Relying too much on strength when he’s fast too. Much more than Taihaku, if only—”

“My my.” Sogestu arches one of his brows, letting it disappear beneath the pale fall of his hair. “Maybe you should be the one down there.”

It’s not an idle suggestion, not one made from innocence and sincerity— no, as much as Rangetsu may love her brother, as much as she would be willing to lay down her entire life to see him alive and safe, she also has learned: Sogetsu never speaks a single syllable without some scheme behind it.

One which is all too clear when Tenyou-sama turns on his bench, glowing in the heat of the sun, and inquires, so innocent, “Oh, yes! Why aren’t you down there, Rangetsu?”

Sogetsu has earned more than the second of scowl she spares him before she replies, “Taihaku said I’d be in the way.”

“Underfoot,” Sogetsu supplies, so helpful. “I believe that was the word he used, sister dear.”

*

Rangestu only means to pass by Tenyou-sama’s office. Really, she does— it’s the most direct path between her chambers and the training yard, and after the kerfuffle in the kitchens today, she’s already late to her standing spar with Sogetsu. She doesn’t even pause when she passes the open doors, skirting around the curtains billowing in the first summer winds, until—

Until Tenyou-sama’s soft words drift through them, inquiring, “How is Ichii progressing?”

It’s hardly any of her business— Ichii’s made it quite clear that she last on his list of aides to beg favors from. Sogetsu might tease, might say, you read a room as well as you read any of the classic poets, but even she knows that she can’t elbow her way into his good graces by will alone.

And yet, she presses herself to the wall, ears perked to hear Taihaku’s buoyant, “Very well, Your Highness.”

Rangetsu frowns. He’d never spoken so glowingly of her accomplishments, as if just the thought of them put a skip in his step. As if they were something to be proud of, rather than grudgingly won.

Even Tenyou-sama seems surprised. “I hadn’t thought you would take so well to being an instructor again. Not after…”

Her.

“Ichii takes to everything like a duck to water,” Taihaku boasts, for once eager to praise. “Poetry, economics, imperial history— his calligraphy is already good enough to use in official correspondence.”

Unlike hers, which was hardly fit for the scrap paper she scrawled it on. Tenyou-sama said she had an endearing hand— a compliment she had taken pride in until Taihaku scoffed, that’s the sort of thing parents tell their child.

“And his martial skills,” Tenyou-sama presses, strangely unsure. “I suppose it might be time to let Rangetsu teach him the better points of—”

“No need, Your Highness.” Taihaku— Taihaku— laughs, deep in his throat, like a pleased parent fondly chiding their favorite child. “I’m happy to handle his training too.”

“Really?” At least Tenyou-sama seems as left-footed as she does. “I would have thought you would be eager to get back to your regular work.”

“And give up my best student?” He snorts. “Not likely.”

*

There’s something wrong with her, she thinks.

She makes it to her spar with Sogetsu, but her hands shake when she picks up a spear, her rolling stomach making the ground beneath her pitch and yaw like a ship’s deck. It fades as she advances toward her brother, chasing his his tail around the yard as if they were children still— he never did quite learn to fight the way he should, more fox than wolf even with a weapon in hand— but a simple kick from him sends her skittering across the clay, painting a bright red streak down the back of her uniform.

Sogestu, for his part, only watches her get to her feet, but his eyes narrow when she puts her back to him, pleading fatigue.

They narrow even further at dinner— taken together, at his insistence— when she only picks at her plate, unable to summon up her usual enthusiasm for the whole grilled fish placed in front of her. By the time Tenyou-sama dismisses them that night, it’s a wonder she can see anything more than a sliver of silver-blue, lingering on her as she stays behind, a soft hand already reaching for hers.

But there is no relief to be found in Tenyou-sama’s touch. No, when he strokes a hand down the bared skin of her arm, the tension beneath it snaps instead of sparks. She’s used to a pleasant hum that follows in the wake of his hands, like the air before a lightning strike, but instead she feels like an erhu strung too tight, the only music he can draw from her sharp and discordant.

He’s disappointed when she begs off his attentions, but spares her a welcome smile when she slips from his arms— and a less helpful kiss, leaving her nerves jangling as she slinks off to her rooms, strangely dissatisfied.

There’s nothing that eases it; not the briskness of the air nor her steps-- not even the palms she rubs down her arms, trying to urge her skin smooth. Something in her is laying at odd angles, and no matter how she sways and jumps, it won’t lay flat, won’t let her go back to the easy routine she’s settled into.

At least it doesn’t until she catches the spill of golden light from beneath Taihaku’s door. He’s up, still, probably poring over reports Tenyou-sama has long set aside. That’s the thing about the fourth prince’s foremost aide: he’s never once learned how to relax—

“Hah!”

Rangetsu jumps, skirting around his door like a skittish cat at a puddle. That had sounded like— like Taihaku. But it’s impossible; he doesn’t laugh at anything save her. And it’s not like that, all bright and bubbly, amused rather than tired—

“Is that your argument?” His tongue keeps tripping, his normally perfect syllables crowded by the laugh he’s barely holding at bay, and it’s strange how her heart pounds with each skipped consonant or strangled vowel. It’s Taihaku, it is, but unfamiliar, and though she knows she must go, she cannot make herself do anything but lean against the wall, drinking it in.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” he insists, more evenly now. “Unless you want to get laughed out of the room before you can make your case.”

Her blood runs cold at the soft voice that squeaks out, “Of course, shifu…”

*

It's just...odd, that's all. Taihaku had always chased her out of his quarters after hours, telling her that he wasn’t her teacher again until morning. Later, she'd learned she could simple bring a bottle and her problems to his door, or sometimes simply sweep in, trapping him in questions before he could think to turn her out, but still--

It’s been hours, and they’re still in there, laughing over— over things. Poetry, probably. Literature, even. All the things Rangetsu could never get the hang of, but Ichii takes to as easy as breathing.

Ichii. Just thinking the name sets a spike through her breast. My best student.

Rangetsu lowers her chin, letting it dig into the flesh of her arm. It's silly, worrying about this. It's been ages since Taihaku called himself her tutor-- I've washed my hands of you, he tells her each time she shows him her attempts at calligraphy, stick to waving around that pole of yours-- no longer just his student, but friends as well. Just because Ichii is good at...at everything doesn't mean he doesn't like her too. It's just--

Well, only one of them is in his room right now, aren't they?

“Oh, my my my.” Sogetsu slips onto the railing next to her, eyebrows already lost behind the sweep of his hair. “It’s hard, isn’t it?”

She frowns. “What is?”

“Why…” His teeth flash in the moonlight. “Not being the favorite anymore.”

[tamagotchikgs]

been trying to figure out just how i am going to explain how wildly my brain has been altered since the last time i saw my therapist && it make me realize all of this has happened in 1 month,,,,,,,,,,, it feels like . eons. eternity . in the best way possible

[gh-0-stcup]

Forever obsessed with 3x04 Beauty and The Beasts. The way Pete is both foil and parallel to the Buffyverse's male love interests. How it can be taken in many ways and is simply presenting something to the audience and asking them to consider it.

Pete, a boy turned violent as a side effect of a strange science experiment. His violence is fueled by his jealousy and turned on his girlfriend. When he calms down, she forgives him. It's the substance, it turns him into a monster. It's not Pete.

But the lines between Pete and the monster he becomes are blurry at best. And at the end of the day, it doesn't matter if the violence and rage is truly a part of him or not - Debbie dies either way.

What does this say for the monstrous men in the Buffyverse? Most of them had the monster forced upon them by others. Their monster is can be an asset - both Oz and Angel defend against Pete in this episode. Angel, Oz, and even Spike all attempt to tame their monstrous side throughout the course of the show.

There is also a greater distinction between their monsters and their human side - souled vs soulless, werewolf under the full moon. But the more these characters are explored, the more blurred the lines become. Oz is the wolf and the man, all the time. ATS hints to a deep darkness ever present, but largely controlled, within Angel. Spike is...Spike.

And at the end of the day, what difference does the line between monster and man really make for their lovers? They are still to varying degrees, dangerous individuals to be around. Are these relationships truly worth pursuing?

[silawastaken]

#1 grace kin.

you know, grace freemantle? More like grace freemental. do you get it? you don't get it.

[quinttyz]

some feelings he wouldn’t really say out loud

[chaos-has-theories]

According to Freud, the family romance first takes shape at a time when a child begins to liberate himself from parental authority... He fancies himself the child of a prominent statesman, a millionaire, an aristocratic landowner-of a person appointed with the very qualities in which his own parents seem most wanting... Freud further observed that although the new, exalted parents are equipped with the attributes of the actual, humble parents and that the child's family romance thus reflects nostalgia for the days when his own mother and father seemed the most noble persons on earth (and when he basked in the light of their glory), he identified an element of revenge and retaliation in the minds of these young romancers. Nostalgia and revolt, exaltation and debasement, reconciliation and revenge: these are the twin motors driving the family romance.

Tatar, Maria. "3. VICTIMS AND SEEKERS. The Family Romance of Fairy Tales". The Hard Facts of the Grimms' Fairy Tales: Expanded Edition, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2019, pp. 74

--

Giving Siegmund Freud access to a Tapas account just to see what happens

[thehandwixard]

my #truth is that riku realized he was gay from a young age (obvious reasons why) and he had a lloooot of struggle with it on the literal island with no way out he was living on and was in no small part a reason (among the neurodivergency and "childish" behavior for his age) why he was so desperate to leave Because he innately knew of himself as strange and an other, even if no one gave him shit for it

SORA however, realized he could like guys in a way that did not make him feel like an alien through meeting several disney and anime men known for being irl ppl's gay and bi awakenings and was able to feel Pretty Normal about it all things considered however this does mean that as soon as he realized he *could* have feelings for riku everything blew up.

[cowardlycowboys]

who is the boy you like? 👀

someone very nice very sweet very funny :3

[battlecries-dear]

AUGH! im thinking about jealousy tropes again. like just jaskier being his fun and flirty self chatting up fellow patrons at the bar or whatever and geralt having to remind himself that the possession hes feeling is unwarranted and frankly kind of unhealthy, at least to the degree hes feeling it (splintering the wood of the stool hes sitting at cause hes grapsing the edges so hard) and hes doing his quiet seething routine but jaskier always ends up back with him. sure theyre not lovers but theyre friends and geralt tries to convince himself that's enough for him and hrrghdhh i just need these boys to suffer a little bit.

[horce-divorce]

The Maiden of Lake Michigan from Jason Miney. This lighthouse is 59' tall for reference. In the winter, waves on lake Michigan can often reach 30 feet.

[alrighttevans]

theyre the cutest 😭😭😭😭😭

[darkcybertron]

fucking crying at how in beast wars s3e4 when cheetor goes with blackarachnia on a mission, cheetor starts to admit he has some kind of feelings for her. “she just thinks you’re kinda cool. and you know what…” and before he can finish she cuts him off. she KNEW what his stupid ass was gonna say. poor girl seems tired

[madmanwonder]

Prompt Crossover

"Funny Bad Flirting"

After that failed attempt, Beastboy tries his luck with Mina and Kyouka. He gets in between, wraps his arms around them, and badly flirts with both ladies. After their initial reaction, he sees they are not rejecting him yet, and goes for another funny flirt.

But he gets grabbed and dragged by Starfire and Raven. They are not happy with his "infidelity" and plans on discipling him until he learns. And if he makes excuses like they didn't react well to his flirtations earlier, they will scare him into accepting whatever they do to him.

Flirting. Jealousy. Imminent Punishment.

"I see two lovely ladies all alone and me not doing anything is a crime against you and myself~" Garfield badly flirted with Mina and Kyouka as he gets in between them and wraps his arms around them.

Mina and Kyouka gave the weird if oddly charming green-skinned changeling a blank look as if they just unable to believe it with their own eyes.

"Are you serious being serious right now/That is the lamest pick-up line I've ever heard from...anyone." Mina and Kyouka replied at the same time.

Seeing their initial reaction wasn't entirley a reject made the changeling grinned and was going to flirted the two cute Japanese babes with another of his winner (bad) pick-up lines...

...but then all of the sudden gets grabbed and dragged by Starfire and Raven who was not pleased with Beast-Boy behavior. Not all at.

"You are going to get it Beast-Boy/Consort-Beast Boy I'll not tolerate your unfaithfulness." Said Starfire and Raven in a very displeased tone in her voice as they dragged the struggling changeling who look half displeased half confuesd.

"Why are you two doing this to me. Not like it didn't work on you two at all?!" Garfield said to Kori and Rachel who promptly send him a smoldering glare which made him let out a dog-like whimper of fear.

Mina and Kyouka looked at the scene with a puzzled look on their face before the two just chose to ignore the entire scenario and go back to their business.