#there's an innate selfishness within both sides.

[cultfed]

im thinking about the slow corrosion of geto's ideals as they drift from the presumed righteous and into the iniquitous ones he follows into his future. he really did believe in protecting the weak , that it was a duty and there was pride in that but there's no pride in burying your friends young , there's none in being all too aware that this is a thankless task , there will never be anyone to applaud your success nor many to cry if you are to fall. he wanted to establish a world where those who were burdened with that strength did not feel obligated to serve those who create their own evils. honestly, as twisted as it perhaps seems it is not such a questionable desire. some have the inclination to be heroic, find purpose within in but why should those condemned to power be sent out into an otherwise invisible conflict in order to protect those they do not know , let alone should show concern for.

[cambion-companion]

Teaching the Devil how to fuck

We all know Haarlep says Raphael is a terrible lover blah blah, and I certainly believe Raphael to be a very selfish lover. It's also hard for me to imagine he's taken someone other than Haarlep to his bed in a very long time. Scheming and planning ya know, it's time consuming lol And how would he be in bed with someone who isn't an Incubus, with whom he doesn't feel double the pleasure? Well, that's why I am writing this.

Raphael x Altheara (my female Aasimar OC) because I wanted to write wings and needed a warm-up

"Raphael, do you ever stop talking?" Altheara brushed her long golden hair, the entire time she'd been listening to Raphael wax poetic about his latest contract with the whole city council.

She turned on her vanity stool, tossing her sheet of hair over her shoulder and mirroring Raphael's terse expression back at him. "Have you any idea just how little I wish to hear about your newest soul conquest?"

Raphael raised an arch brow and his lips turned down in a sneer. "Were I a less magnanimous being..." He gestured with his hands, describing the scene. "...I would pluck your feathers and leave you skinned upon a rack for your continual impudence."

Altheara rose to her full height, still head and shoulders shorter than Raphael's devil form. She approached him in measured steps, her eyes glinting like topaz in the firelight. "You're more full of bluster than an autumn evening." She flexed her feathered wings and tilted her head up at his glowering face. "You need me."

"Ah, pet." Raphael's voice had taken on a gravelly edge. He took Altheara's chin between finger and thumb, stroking her cheek gently. "You are wearing out your welcome."

"Yet you are here, in my chambers, lingering long after my 'use' to you has expired." Altheara's amber eyes flicked between his. "Why?"

Raphael pulled in his chin, once again momentarily bemused by her directness. "Perhaps I want to see just how far I can make an angel fall."

During their long and tenuous partnership, Altheara had felt the tension between them building like water behind a dam. It was finally about to burst.

The fabric of her deep blue dress rustled as she moved, her wings urged on her movement with one sweeping motion. She pressed herself against the heat of the cambion, his hands cradling her hips as she kissed that ruby mouth of his. At last, silencing him.

Raphael met her embrace with surprise, then curiosity, which melted into fascination. He tugged her closer, his fingers exploring how her soft flesh felt under his probing touch, the silk of her dress slipping like water under his hands.

Altheara guided him non-gently to her bed where he sat, a brow raised as he looked amused and intrigued up at her.

"You are aware," Raphael mused, his hands resting either side of where he sat as she moved to straddle him. "That I have an incubus at my beck and call?"

Altheara ignored him, she began pulling at the heavy metal of his skull-adorned belt. "This is utterly hideous, by the way."

"That whatever pleasure you offer dulls in comparison to what they can give me."

Altheara glared at him, her teeth clenched, her brass wings folding slightly as an innate sign of her sudden doubt. "Yet here you remain, quite the willing companion."

"I admit my curiosity, yes." Raphael indulged the Aasimar, his infernal eyes glimmering from within. "I've made no secret that I find you a most alluring creature."

Altheara leaned into him again and kissed at his neck and throat, her hands sliding up under his shirt to caress his sides. "Then stop being an ass."

"So spoke the 'aasimar'." Raphael groaned quietly as Altheara bit the skin of his shoulder in response, then he chuckled, still not touching her in return. "Shall I set the mood, my dear?"

He clicked his fingers and Altheara breathed in sharply, pulling her head back as both she and Raphael magically lost all of their clothing.

Her eyebrows raise and she fought to not grimace. "Raphael...that does quite the opposite to 'setting the mood'."

A slight frown tainted Raphael's confident smirk. "Not the response I was seeking, angel."

"Put my clothes back on, devil." Altheara spoke firmly, her hands moving to cup his face and smooth down to his shoulders. "It seems I am to educate you on how passion is played out."

Raphael was loathe to obey orders from anyone, especially a celestial entity. However, he found himself intrigued what she wished to have happen.

He magicked their clothing back onto their bodies and Altheara smiled. "Good. Thank you."

Altheara took her time. She slowly undressed Raphael, her lips following where her hands went, never touching but close enough for him to feel her warm breath on his skin.

She pressed her weight against the cambion's towering form, her mouth almost touching his heated chest, teasing, until with a low grumble he pressed forward against her in return. She smiled as she began pleasuring him, allowing him some control yet also taking an equal amount for herself.

Reticence turned into heated exchanges, hands ran over flushed skin and Raphael at last carefully pulled Altheara's dress over her head and tossed it blithely to the floor.

His hands explored her, and she gasped as he groped her chest roughly, grabbing his wrists with a furrowed brow. "Gentler." She showed him and after a moment he took over, squeezing and pinching.

Raphael reclined onto his back, pressing into the bed as he gripped her thighs possessively. "Show me more of what you can give."

"I'd think a devil would have better grasp on the concept of give and take." Altheara sighed through her pleasure, her wings spreading behind her for balance as she began moving more earnestly. "This is an exchange, Raphael."

The reply was torn from his lips as she sunk upon him, connecting their bodies with her own gasps of both pain and bliss.

She leaned over him until their mouths met in yet another fierce kiss. Raphael ran his hands up her back and into her downy feathers, his sharp nails digging into them. Altheara tensed and broke their kiss to look into Raphael's lidded eyes. "We have a contract."

"I will not harm you." Raphael's touch was sharp but didn't pierce her skin. "So eager, but still a flighty little thing."

"Move with me." Altheara pressed her hands to his chest, then his sides, gripping him tight as her wings flapped gently, her body shuddering as Raphael began to move his hips as well.

"So demanding." Raphael groaned again, his pleasure building slower than her own. "It's a wonder I tolerate you."

"You want me." Altheara's breath caught in her throat.

Raphael gripped the arc of her wings, his torso flexing as he curled up into her. "Yes."

The little death that followed led to many others. Many more nights of exploration exchanges of intimacy. Like twin fire suns orbiting each other, Raphael and Altheara could not pull away from each other. And for the first time in centuries, Raphael found himself willing to learn.

[trigunwritings]

Hi! Thanks for your quick reply and sorry again for bothering you if I did 🙈🙈

I’d like to ask for a afab!reader x vash nsfw (can be whatever format you’d prefer it to write in) where reader is very bubbly, cute and friendly in daily life, and overall personality is also kinda similar to him, but when they have sex the first time, it turns out she’s kinda more of a soft don with him. Can be Vash’s reactions to this, or just a nsfw fic, whatever you’d prefer. Thanks! ❤️ Vash is such a bbgirl that he opened a new side of me unknown to myself 🤭

A lot can be said about a person when nobody is looking at them.

In the quiet moments of solace—far from the eyes of friends and strangers alike—the mask of expectation can finally fall away. Secrets, insecurities, even fears are left bare and raw beneath the burning suns, with the hope that they too will one day be swallowed by the sands like the person within which they reside.

Everyone has a skeleton in their closet or a past they’d sooner like to forget, and Vash the Stampede—a man who one might mistake as a childish, gullible fool upon meeting him—is by far no exception. The mask he wears is as heavy as iron and nearly impossible to break.

He’d sooner be on the edge of death than to admit for even a moment that things weren’t okay, that he couldn’t uphold a promise or make things better for someone else.

He who refuses to kill, and yet is burdened by the deaths of thousands, can never truly remove the mask he wears; but there are times that you get close to seeing the true face of Vash, even if they are rare and fleeting, sometimes muddled by the taste of alcohol as it lingers on your tongue by morning.

But it is worth it. You understand what it feels like to hold up the weight of all the emotions that constantly threaten to strangle your heart, to put up a front and smile despite the stress and fear alike.

Happiness is not innate, but instead it is a struggle to keep.

And so it means all the more to see the man like this: layers of insecurity and guilt peeled away to reveal the raw emotions of a man who wants nothing more than to love and be loved in return. You kneel over him, one hand carefully pinning his wrists above his head, the other stroking a nonsensical pattern over the scarred expanse of his lower stomach.

“Please…” is all Vash can whisper. His face is rosy and his eyes shine brilliantly beneath the soft glow of the moon—made worse by the tears welling up in them as he looks at you. Not tears of pain or fear, but of want. A want for your touch, your praise, your forgiveness for the sins that you have no authority to give and yet you give it anyway.

Fingertips skim across his belly once more before finally allowing him the pleasure of your touch where he craves it the most, cock hard and aching from the moment you had pinned him down in this forgotten corner of an old inn. The roof and windows are broken, but it’s plenty good enough to shield the two of you from the hard gusts of sand-laden wind that kick up at night.

Besides, the stream of moonlight across the man’s face is beautiful enough to make it worth it. How his back arches and his hips shift, trying to hurry your languid pace.

“No,” is all you say in response, soft and sweet despite the fact that it is the third time over you’d kept Vash from reaching his climax. “Not yet. A little more for me, okay?”

Some of it is from pure selfishness. You love to see the man want you, need you, beg for you. There’s a sense of exhilaration in making him whimper and beg for release, a high no drug can mimic. Love? Lust? Perhaps both, maybe neither. Maybe everything all at once.

But there is also an aspect of compassion in the act, since you know Vash finds some genuine emotional catharsis in being, if only for a moment, completely beneath the will of another person. He doesn’t have to be anything in these moments of intimacy with you; he is not Vash the Stampede, not the Humanoid Typhoon, not anything at all—

Just a man, raw and vulnerable, who cries so softly for your touch.

[ardenssolis]

@dayscorch said (inbox):

❛❛ Seeing how freely you let yourself want things & how you go for those things you want ---- ❜❜ Her eyes soften as she stares down at the ground, hands settled in her lap. ❛❛ I do believe that in some way, Ramses, that has changed me. ❜❜ Warmth, a feature 'pon her face, an existence rumbling within her heart. ❛❛ The more I have come around you, I've began to freely go for things I seek & I hold back less than before. In my last life, I hardly communicated with others. I didn't want to make an impression on them, then disappear & hurt them. I had no need for such things if I was only going to be remembered in tinges of sorrow. I didn't want anyone's heart to hurt ---- that being said, I apologize for all the times you've seen me die. ❜❜ She finally looks at him, letting him see the expression of warmth & eyes that speak a thousand unspoken things. ❛❛ But, in that same vein, I must thank you for teaching me how to go for what I want. That's why I blame you for making me selfish, heh. ❜❜ She leans into his side, bumping softly & smiling warmer. ❛❛ Maybe, you truly are something. Ah, don't let that go to your ego. Head's big enough, right ? ❜❜ She teases, tugging at his cheek.

❝HAVE I NOW?❞ A brow rose curiously to these words, surprise too present upon his features as golden eyes came to rest upon Koto. Never did he ever think that he would hear such things from her of all individuals. Though in truth, he didn’t expect this at all in regards to anyone else either. Ozymandias merely acted himself; highlighting all the traits that made him charismatic…as well as all the traits that made him a tyrant to others as well. The good and the bad, it was both embraced and accepted as a part of himself. Whether the real Ramses II was like this or not, was of very little consequence to him. Such would not change how he carried himself, for he was always and forever himself. Even the Koto sitting in front of him now might not have been the same woman that had fought fiercely against demons in a time torn between the past and industrial revolution. However, in the end, did such even matter? ❝This new life of ours is false, and although this is our truth now, that does not mean you should be so quick to put yourself in harm’s way when the opportunity arises. After all, you are not alone in your fighting.❞

     There were others too.

     Their shared summoner as well, despite being no warrior, still fought just as hard. They were just spirits with a physical form that could be resummoned upon death, but this didn’t mean that it was still painless to see a comrade killed on the battlefield. None of them were devoid of feeling. ❝Heh, being selfish is an innate part of being human. So, rather than cast this aside, it should be embraced for what it is. There is nothing wrong with taking your own feelings and thoughts into account – for putting yourself first.❞ For those who were keen on duty, this always seemed so difficult for them to follow through. He understood this struggle. ❝Well…at least in moderation for you more duty-bound types, I suppose.❞ Ozymandias laughed at this, amused as she bumped her shoulder against his own. ❝By all means, sing my praises some more! I shall allow it.❞

[justapanda]

Choso - The Heart of Jujutsu Kaisen

Jujutsu Kaisen portrays a long list of interesting characters, each with important roles to play within the story, but amidst them all there is one character who lies in the very centre of the story’s core themes, and that is Choso.

Choso is introduced in Jujutsu Kaisen as a seemingly unimportant character with his only purpose to be a mere obstacle that the jujutsu sorcerers and Yuji need to overcome, very much like one of the many generic cursed spirits present in the story. This idea is driven further by his two brothers Eso and Kechizu, who were introduced only to be swiftly and unceremoniously killed off by Yuji and Nobara.

The natural path for Choso’s character at this point was simple and predictable, a basic revenge plot against Yuji for killing two of his younger brothers. However, the entire assumption of Choso’s purpose in the story was flipped on its head after the big twist that Choso is in fact a distant blood relative of Yuji. Choso’s innate cursed technique is blood connection, so upon being given the chance to finally kill Yuji after beating him in their fight, he decides on a whim to refuse as a result of his mind, body and soul sensing something wrong when he prepares to kill Yuji.

After walking away and spending time alone to ponder the meaning behind his unexpected connection to Yuji, he realises the truth that both he and Yuji are born experimentations of Kenjaku (known to him as Noritoshi Kamo at the time). After this, Choso’s alignments shift completely, deciding to ally not only with Yuji but all of the jujutsu sorcerers who were previously his enemies. He even goes so far as to completely forgive Yuji for killing his two brothers as he now understands that Yuji was simply ignorant of the truth, just like himself.

The whole purpose of Choso’s character is that despite the extremely unfortunate circumstances of his existence as a cursed human hybrid born from malicious experiments, with every reason to lash out at the world for causing his suffering, he still chooses to care for others. Choso currently being the only living cursed human hybrid in the story is also symbolic for him being the mentally healthiest character who understands both sides of the conflict.

Choso bears no ill will against humans, sorcerers or cursed spirits. This is implied early in the story while he was still aligned with the curse group as unlike the rest of them (Kenjaku, Mahito, Jogo, Hanami and Dagon), Choso was completely uninterested in killing as he had no personal investment. Choso chooses to fight only against the things that threaten him and the things he cares about, just like any other healthy minded person.

Despite his introduction as a background character who also possesses an unremarkable level of power within the context of the story, Choso is actually one of the most spotlighted characters in the story’s narrative. He has been shown in several long and intense fights where he pushes himself to the limit time and time again to fight for the things he cares for, often surprising much stronger characters in the story who belittle him. Choso parallels Yuji in this way for being his only distant blood relative to be shown in the story. Both of them are constantly looked down upon by their enemies including their own parent Kenjaku, as well as Sukuna.

Jujutsu Kaisen’s core themes revolve constantly around the struggle of making selfish or selfless decisions and Choso is the one character who is closest to achieving balance between these two extremes, being the only one who can’t be distinguished between a human or a cursed spirit. Choso is the character who wears his heart on his sleeve. Or in this case, his blood.

[relaxxattack]

Not Quite An Essay On Ableism Within the DreamSMP Fandom

[relaxx’s note: this was not written by me! It was originally submitted by an anonymous user to @habeascorpseus. i liked this essay a lot and transcribed it to text for easier consumption. ALSO, this will go on for several reblogs, so please wait until i get to the end. enjoy!]

Fandom seemed all for exploration of the effects of trauma on the kids, but only ever in a romanticized way. People speculated about the two of them being afraid of fireworks, explosions, thunder, and loud noises and their response being tears and panic attacks easily calmed with a well-placed hug and some breathing exercises. The "softer," more understandable side of trauma was fandom's playground. And all of this, in combination with fandom's tendency to see Tommy and Tubbo as a duo and not individuals, sowed the seeds of future discourse for when they broke out of those molds.

All throughout the Pogtopia v Manberg war, everyone somewhat jokingly blamed George for not showing up to the election. George was positioned as the first domino in the line leading to Schlatt's takeover, L'manberg’s destruction, and Wilbur's spiral culminating in death. Tommy persuaded Ranboo into helping him grief George's house, and Dream saw it as an opportunity to stir conflict between him and Tubbo. He pushed for Tommy’s punishment, and this quickly set off a chain effect of Tommy and Tubbo inadvertently triggering each other.

The idea that he would be punished harshly for a benign crime, possibly even exiled as he was not long before when Schlatt came into power and L'manberg's downfall began, set Tommy on edge. He responded in classic Tommy fashion-- being bold and loud and lashing out at others to cover up how much he was afraid and hurting. In his lashing out, he similarly hit Tubbo’s soft spots. He called into question and undermined Tubbo's leadership, reminding him of his time under Schlatt and Wilbur's assertion that he was a yes-man. He even compared him to Schlatt, the man who in hindsight had taunted him with the knowledge that Tubbo was a spy and then had him executed for it. In response, Tubbo lashed out at Tommy, and the two continued to play on each others' fears back and forth.

Unlike fandom’s dreams of "harmless'' displays of trauma, Tommy and Tubbo responded with anger rather than solely depression.

Does this sound familiar? It should. Much like with how Wilbur was demonized the instant his mental illness was exhibited in an "ugly" way, Tommy and Tubbo were quickly demonized for their own responses to trauma and how it broke up their perceived "duo" status. Half of the fandom dug into Tommy's past and framed all of his actions as born out of selfishness and an innate chaos and lack of empathy. He was painted as the root of all conflict. Meanwhile, the other half of the fandom claimed that Wilbur had been right all along— that Tubbo's behavior was that of a mindless yes-man. They claimed that Tubbo exiling Tommy was a sure sign that he was going to become the same horrible person and dictator that Schlatt was, and they predicted that Tubbo would turn out comically evil. Tubbo trying to kill Technoblade (the man who'd killed him and destroyed his nation and implied that he would come back and destroy everything again if a government stayed in power) under pressure from Quackity and Fundy was framed as an explicit wrong, and from that fandom extrapolated that Tubbo would follow a path of evil. They predicted that he'd stop caring about Tommy, that he'd value his presidency first, that he'd kill Ranboo when he found out he was a traitor.

Fandom villified both Tommy and Tubbo as soon as they could no longer fit in the box of "soft, traumatized sad bois." This is only further confirmed by fandom's reaction to Tommy's exile arc.

Tommy's suicidal thoughts in exile were portrayed in the same vein mainstream media always portrays them- - and that's not meant to be an insult, it was a well done arc. But it showcases how fandom handles mental illness. Where before Tommy was demonized for lashing out, as soon as he dropped his anger and expressed his feelings primarily through easily digestible and unproblematic self-harm, fandom welcomed him back with open arms. He went right back to the "soft, traumatized sad boi" box.

And then, once he was safely back in that box, fandom started contemplating a villain arc for him.

[earthbovndmisfit]

In a way I'd call Speedwagon the Anti-Dio. Both initial antagonists shown kindness by Jonathan, but one repays with hatred and the other repays with loyalty. Also Dio's influence continues to negatively affect the Joestars long after his death, but Speedwagon's influence continues to *help* the Joestars long after his death.

I’ve seen some posts about this same topic in the past, so it's not as crazy of an idea or as unheard of as it may seem at first.

For starters, both Dio and Speedwagon come from the slums. Both lived there in absolute poverty for years (in Dio's case, until he was 12-ish, in Spw's case, until his mid-to-late 20s at the very least). Both have seen all the horrible sides of life in the shape of terrible conditions and disgusting people. None of them have been shown kindness during their darkened years in the hostile environment of the slums, developing their respective defensive mechanisms as a way to survive in that place, and we can see that in the way they move within  -and climb up the ladder of- that underworld in the bits we're shown from Dio's childhood, as well as what we are told from Speedwagon's past as well as the implications of what we're shown about him (that he's a criminal, that he runs the deadliest and most dangerous place in London, how he earned the respect of all his men to the extent where he can command them with his word alone, and so on).

Dio and Speedwagon have very similar backgrounds, and one would even think that Dio would soften a little now that he was taken out of that world of misery while he was still very young and was offered a new chance at life, without any repercussions or prejudices, a privilege only a handful would get in a time period like that, but that was not the case, and I think Araki's own words explain clearly the reason behind this: "Dio accepts and embraces his evil nature and follows his dark path without hesitation", and which is something we see him do from the start, even in his slums years. This behavior becomes even more obvious once he's adopted by the Joestars, as he now has no reasons to be hostile. He receives kindness from both Jonathan and George, and he only repays them with hatred (disguised hatred in the case of George). Dio stops being a potential victim to willingly become an abuser for his own amusement, whether it is by verbally/physically abusing Jonathan and starting rumors about him, or simply by selling George the idea of "the perfect son" only to betray him when he no longer needs him in the picture.

And all that becomes even more remarkable when you realize that there was virtually no reason for Dio to do any abuse at all. He was seen as the perfect child ever since he was adopted, and actually fit in without even any effort, coming across as a well-mannered child (as opposed to Jonathan and his messy ways and lack of manners). He could have very well earned the Joestar fortune without doing most of the awful things he did over the years (most of which actually ended up being part of his downfall if you think about it). He shows a deep selfishness and has never cared about the Joestars, only about what he can gain from them, which is also why Araki has also stated that Dio feels no remorse about any of his wrongdoings towards any of them, even way after part 1. A bit of a side note here, but this “innate evilness” is also a core and key aspect of Dio as a character AND as a villain, and which is something Araki has stated he considers one of the most terrifying types of villains.

Speedwagon's case, however, is different in ways like those you mention. He comes from the same place than Dio (probably from a worse place, as we’re only told Dio lived in the slums, meanwhile we’re told that Speedwagon has lived his whole life up until PB’s timeline in Ogre Street, which is part of the slums and also confirmed as the worst and most dangerous part of London). He's been through similar experiences and has lived in that horrid place for at least twice longer than Dio ever did. And, unlike Dio, he never had been spared nor given a true second chance at life until he meets Jonathan. If anyone had "the right" to be a piece of trash and try to justify it as "my past and my circumstances made me do all this", it would have been Speedwagon, but he never does that. Instead, he decides to acknowledge his mistake and learn from it. He's met with kindness, and kindness he shows in return. This is also why he was able to call Dio out on his lies about his reasons for trying to murder his adoptive father, because he knows from first-hand experience what it is to be like in the literal gutter, to be treated like less than trash. He knows there's zero reasons for anyone in Dio's now privileged position to do all the horrible things he's done for years, and especially towards the people who even put him where he now is to begin with, and now adding to his ever growing list of crimes attempted murder towards George, the man who was not only his adoptive father but who we also must add was the only person to ever have loved Dio (as Jonathan even states at one point that he feels no affection towards Dio and even feels guilty about it).

What you mention about both men's influence even long after their deaths is true. I recall a post that put it something like “Speedwagon achieved everything Dio wanted -power, wealth and, in a way, immortality-, all without being a piece of shit”. Both Dio and Speedwagon attained immortality and power in their own ways. Dio by leaving his humanity behind and becoming a vampire, and Speedwagon through his hard work, the power he gained through his oil company and later on his foundation and the legacy he left behind. Both Dio and Speedwagon have made such an impact not only in regards to the Joestars but also on the world at large, negatively and positively respectively, with Dio’s actions being fueled by his evilness and his hatred towards the Joestars, while Speedwagon’s actions were fueled by his now freed kindness and his love for Jonathan (and later on extending to the rest of the Joestars).

[blog-of-hubris]

Choujin X Chapter 24 - Exceeds

Sui Ishida’s Magnum Opus - Choujiin X Chapter 24

Choujin X has been (unfortunately) a sleeper series within the manga community even though its the second work Sui Ishida, the mastermind behind the popular manga Tokyo Ghoul. Its successful in Japan, but the lack of conversation online in the west or English speaking community is very low so I decided that I should do metas on the chapters! I hope some of you are reading Choujin X or decide to give it a read just to get the context behind the rambling I'll be doing- but anyway! 

Enjoy!

What is a Best Friend

The clash between Tokio and Azuma has reached its end with Tokio saving Azuma from drowning in the dam after Tokio completed one-sided him at the end of their fight in his new form. 

new form is absolutely cool and I hope we see more but anyway-

this chapter really hit hard for me because it confirmed that Azuma wasn’t Tokio’s friend because he liked him but because he gave him a form a gratification he never had before. He was tokio’s “hero” and he wanted it to stay that way. Super weird, Azuma is not a nice person- and he also seems conflicted because he sees the potential in Tokio and wants to bring it out of him BUT he also wants to defeat that stronger version. His innate instinct is to crush that stronger form of Tokio not embrace it. 

Is Azuma a best friend? Does Tokio still see him the same way he did before? I’m honestly not sure. Tokio isn't the type of person to let someone die, so I get why he saved Azuma but I’m not sure he can still look at him the same. Azuma has fundamentally changed I think. This has been a huge blow to his pride, especially being told he “lacked something as a choujin”. Azuma can’t handle those criticisms, they will be what puts him in the Noh mask’s hands- more on this later (new meta). 

Now Azuma sees Ely and the other Choujin being by his side, supporting him when in the past it would just be Azuma there. He can’t handle that.. its pure selfishness thats driving his “care” for Tokio. Its like a person who gets everyone gifts and is just waiting to hear “thanks you’re the best”. Thats all they care about, the recognition. How all of this plays into my personal theory on Tokio having Dependent Personality Disorder is still to be determined so stay tuned. 

Vultures and Hyenas 

Its honestly sad how strong the symbolism was in this chapter, in terms of showing Azusa’s frustration and ego death with the ascension of Tokio as a Choujin. As Azuma is walking you see the birds flying high above him, having just as much focus as him in the perspective in the manga. They follow him in every panel, and as the flash back of him telling Tokio “follow my lead” happens we see the Hyena that was asking Azuma for directions to the Ocean dead, as scavenger birds begin to eat at its body. 

Ok Ishida.. you used this hyena as symbolism for Azuma’s time being Tokio’s guide is over? All he did was lead the hyena to more scavenger birds, which represent to me showing he was the catalyst to Tokio becoming greater. When you think about it thats clearly true- due to Azuma breaking that guys leg and him wanting revenge they ended up in that situation. Azuma suggested taking the syringes.. it just seems like Ishida is doing a lot to hone in on this point both literally and symbolically. And of course we see Azuma freak out so that just makes the point even more potent for me. It sucks that Azuma is going through all that.. but I guess its the repercussions for his true intentions?? idk honestly...

So what is Noh mask going to do to Azuma? Is he going to use his current weakness to persuade him to join his side to become stronger and understand his choujin powers more? will he just be straight up taken? who knows, but I got my stocks in Azuma hearing exactly what he wants to hear and joins Noh’s faction. I hope he does.. that would make this story so interesting + my next section would be 10x better! (LOL)

Who is Choujin X?

We got one of the best title drops I have ever experienced in manga with this chapter and holy hell ishida came to deliver. At the end having that powerful, almost eerie narration about the one of a kind choujin born with the power to annihilate the entire world. I know that this narration seems to be pointing toward Azuma but I think thats a red herring. The reason I say this is because of how Azuma’s Choujin birth came about. He transformed because he died, and was at his limit. In death he was able to “raise” and he became a cape choujin (in my opinion) as representation of him being a false hero, hence him also having chains on him like a criminal. 

His appearance is that of a vigilante hero, who has an inclination for violence. I could be wrong of course, but I feel like we’re supposed to think its Azuma when its really Tokio. (Again, im going off my own perception), I just feel like Tokio’s path has already swept so many people in, so the narration of “This is the story of X and those swept up in his tale”, makes me think of Tokio our main character because the chapter ends with him waking up thinking “Azuma.. what should I do..?”. 

I could be WAY off of course but thats just my thoughts lol. 

The Prelude is over!

So I think its fair to say we are headed to the next level of Choujin X. We are out of the early stages of Choujin X and are now about to get into the nitty gritty of the series. The art we saw of Tokio and Ely in their uniforms is finally about to become in manga content soon I I hope! 

[aminiatureworld]

Damocles

Characters: Zhongli, fm!reader

Word Count: 3,211

Warnings: Hanahaki disease – depictions of a fictional illness with symptoms mimicking tuberculosis, mentions of coughing up blood, talking a lot about death

Premise: In which the reader thinks Zhongli doesn’t reciprocate their feelings, and fears the consequences.

Author’s Note: Ngl, I don’t think I’ve ever really heard about this trope before, except maybe in passing. So if it’s a little weird that’s why.

I ended up taking the story in a bit of a macabre direction. Hopefully not too melodramatic, but I kinda like how it turned out.

Zhongli

“Thank you for telling me, but I’m afraid I cannot return your feelings. I’m sorry to be a disappointment.”

 In truth you couldn’t decide whether or not you had expected your feelings to be returned. You and Zhongli had been friends for years now, and you had grown closer to him than you had to most of your previous friends and acquaintances. Indeed, you had grown closer to him than you had to many of the people you’d been in previous relationships in. You called upon him in some form almost every day, whether it be to discuss something of importance or simply bask in his presence. When there was something new you found about, whether it be a story in a book or a particularly funky looking shell, you almost immediately sought out Zhongli to share your find with.

For Zhongli’s part, he also liked to share experiences with you. At the very least you couldn’t say that your friendship was one sided. He often would be the one to walk up to you on the street, a new brand of tea written down on a piece of paper in his pocket, or a location where one could find particularly beautiful glaze lilies on his lips. He never seemed to mind when you peppered him with endless questions, or talked his ear off about your own day; something which you often asked if he found annoying. No, you were very sure that Zhongli wasn’t simply spending time with you out of pity.

In truth it was your friends who guessed the trajectory of your personal feelings before you did. Though you often found their poking and prodding intensely irritating, they had the common sense to keep the questions to a minimum – perhaps in hope their silence might guarantee that your affections would reveal themselves naturally one day. Now though you had to admit they had been right. You had fallen for Zhongli how long ago? It seemed so difficult to say when, so gradually had your feelings changed from viewing him as a confidante to viewing him as something more. Once you had finally come to terms with it you’d put off revealing your feelings as long as possible.

It wasn’t just the chance of rejection, something that would already cause emotions to run high. You had seen what sort of disease could ravage those who were unlucky in love. One of your own friends had suffered from such a disease, a fellow member of the Liyue Qixing had died from such a thing only a few months ago.

It was a terrible disease, everyone at least could agree about that. The origins of such an unfathomable sickness was much less understood. Most saw it as a curse from the gods, a punishment to the humans who would love a fellow mortal more than those who ruled above them, who gave their protection, their mercy, and their gifts to the people below. Others argued that it was simply a result of stress, for what heart could take the shock of a truly deep rejection. A rare parasite, a curse from malevolent demons, all these theories made little difference when it came to the actual disease. You were fairly sure anyways that people dying of it couldn’t care less why it happened, only that it was happening to them.

First came the coughing, easy enough to ignore in a land where the common cold truly lived up to its name. Then you couldn’t run as fast or as far as you had once, at least on the days were you weren’t fighting off crippling fatigue – the night sweats doing little to help you in your desperate need for rest. Then the fever set in, then the blood that stained the porcelain sink. By the time the first few petals would appear emaciation would already begin to claim your muscle mass and the precious body fat that kept you alive. Some people didn’t even get to the point of regurgitating fully formed flowers. Those people were usually considered lucky, for when one must deal with an incurable disease, well, surely it is better to go sooner rather than later.

You wouldn’t lie and say that wasn’t one of the reasons it took you so long to confess. After all, what you don’t know won’t kill you, right? You weren’t actually sure about that, but it sounded right in your mind, regardless of its actual veracity. However, as with most people in love, you’d found a growing recklessness inside you, paired with the sudden desperation for a happiness which you would certainly never obtain at this rate. So you’d made up your mind to tell him, deciding that perhaps the certainty would be better than the ever growing cloud of anxiety that surrounded your thoughts.

Now you’d been rejected. You had to admit that your first reaction was utter panic, the distinct feeling of having made a terrible sort of mistake. Oh sure, your feelings were undeniably hurt, but that was less important than the virtual death sentence you’d been handed. Why oh why had you decided to do this? The world seemed to swim in front of your for a moment, as simultaneously everything came into sharp focus and faded away into the recesses of your mind. What would you do now? There was nothing to do, you just had to wait for the inevitable, wait for the cold embrace of death to welcome you to its abode. You took deep breaths, trying to control yourself. Tears were forming in your eyes, but you knew that they weren’t from romantic distress. Ironically romance was the last thing in your mind right now.

“I, I see. Thank you for your honesty.”

It was all you could manage to make out. Turning around, head light from fear, you bolted down the streets of Liyue, desperate to be in your home, desperate to ignore the sword of Damocles that now hung dangerously low over your head.

 Zhongli watched you go, watched as you stumbled your way through the crowd that always packed the streets of Liyue in the daytime. He was fine, he was perfectly fine. He had seen it through, had done what he knew was right. There was no reason to regret. Surely the small stab of pain he felt was temporary, a pinprick compared to all that the ex-archon had suffered over the years.

Zhongli had suspected that a confession like this might’ve been on the horizon for quite some time now. Not that he was dreading it out of a personal inability to reciprocate. No, in his heart Zhongli already reciprocated your suspected feelings. He loved you, adored you even; within the stony heart that had atrophied over years of war, suffering, and personal duty, grew a love that Zhongli had not felt for a very long time. He cherished every moment with you, knowing that his long life would try to compress the memories that were so precious to them. Seeing you whenever he could, dragged out conversations as long as he possibly could, Zhongli was practically desperate for time with you. He was also intensely aware of how short that time would ultimately be.

How could Zhongli push the curse of loving an immortal being on you? For it truly was a curse, to both parties involved. His side was painful of course, the knowledge that your memory, you lifespan even, would slip through his fingers like grains of sand. He would always be wondering whether or not the two of you would be experiencing a “last”. Last visit to the sea, last time to climb up the Huaguang Stone Forest to watch the sunset together. Last, last, last. Always the shadow of death would hang over you, so palpable in Zhongli’s mind that he might almost reach out and grasp the gossamer veil that would eventually steal you away. Yes, it would be a truly painful experience. Not nearly as painful however as your own experience.

Zhongli had long ago come to the conclusion that mortals had no true concept of the passage of time. You were young now, the world was your oyster. Zhongli’s immortal status would be nothing more than a passing thought, an anomaly and nothing more. Then your 40th birthday would pass, then you 50th, then you 60th, 70th, 80th. By the time you reached the end of your life the difference between you and Zhongli would stretch out like a chasm between the two of you, something to never be reconciled, for the old rarely forgave the young for their youth. Not to mention the other scenario, the one that Zhongli would never allow the freedom to truly cloud his thoughts. Your death of old age would be a tragedy, the alternative a catastrophe.

He knew all this, had seen it time and time again. Zhongli was hardly the first immortal being to fall in love with a mortal, would not be the last. Adepti, archons, all walks of immortal life were drawn to humanity, drawn to the freedom that came with mortality. Humans did things because they died; they had no forcible tie to nature, no innate duty other than to themselves. Humans could be wicked or kind or cruel or merciful as they wished. To those who were chained by their destiny, well, there was something very anomalous in such a choice. Perhaps it was no surprise then that an immortal being would inevitable find themselves interacting with those supposedly below them. Perhaps it was no surprise that this often led to love.

All that being true, Zhongli still refused to give into his needless selfishness. He loved you, yes. Knowing that was enough. He wouldn’t push such a burden on you, wouldn’t cause you resentment or pain. It would be better if you thought that your feelings weren’t reciprocated, it would be less painful.

Nor would you have to worry about the curse to which many less lucky fell. Zhongli still loved you, still cherished you deeply. You would never have to worry about that, for archons and adepti do not move on from love the way humans do. Zhongli’s love for you would long outlast your lifespan, one which, the archon prayed, would be very long indeed.

Yes, everything had been handled well enough. Perhaps you would never wish to speak with him again, perhaps you would grow to resent him even, how quickly love can turn into hate. It didn’t matter though. Zhongli had shielded you from long, drawn-out suffering, and that was all that mattered. He should’ve been satisfied, should have felt relief. Instead however he only felt a great sadness pressing down, a sadness combined with the pain that accompanied a love that must never truly be realized.

 It had been nine days since you’d been rejected by Zhongli. Crossing off another square on the calendar which you had dug out of your old stationary you sighed. The nine days succeeding the encounter had been utter hell. At first you were convinced that the worst thing that could happen was the symptoms of the wretched illness showing up quickly, so convinced you were that the next day you would wake up with blood on your pillow. Soon however, you’d come to a completely different conclusion. There was nothing worse than waiting.

Every day was spent in the agony of anticipation, every day waiting for the coughing to begin, for the night sweats to begin ravaging your sleep, for the breathe to be stolen from your lungs. Yet every day you woke up with none of these things, though your fatigue was real enough.

You should have been relieved, should have been glad for the opportunity to live even a few more days. Yet instead of relief you only felt deep, unrelenting dread. You couldn’t bring yourself to do anything, so crippled were you by morbid anticipation.

Not that your thoughts were particularly worthwhile either. Perhaps it would be one thing if your ruminations had brought up something profound, something that you could write down in a book for your family or your friends. Though it still would be poor solace, well, at least it’d be something. But your thoughts had all turned to mush, replaced by a paranoia so strong it confined you to your bed most days.

You thought that the death sentence would in some way be freeing, that you might be able to recklessly throw yourself at all the things you had avoided out of fear for so long. Instead you found yourself depressed, waiting for an inevitable so terrifying you found yourself disconnecting from the people around you. What did it matter anyways? You’d be dead soon enough.

This gross neglect of your wellbeing was at least somewhat allayed by the routine that had been drilled into your body from so many years working for the Liyue Qixing. Though you didn’t go to work, something you were sure you were going to hear about eventually, you still dared to venture out to the market. At the very least you would eat your fill in good for before the end was nigh. No need to worry about your health after all. Besides, your definition of good food didn’t necessarily always align with completely unhealthy.

Walking through the familiar streets you stared at the people around you. How odd it was to see people so close you could touch them but so far they might as well have been in Inazuma. Was there anyone else here suffering like you were? Anyone who could understand the thoughts that now flooded your brain? You stared at the ground, trying not to think about it. You’d be confronted with these thoughts the minute you got home anyways. Might as well delay it a bit.

Turning to find the fishmonger you spied a familiar silhouette. Stopping in your tracks you stared unabashedly at Zhongli. The man seemed to be carrying himself much as ever, but the unapproachable atmosphere which he’d blanketed himself in seemed somewhat more prominent. Perhaps it was your imagination, he seemed to be talking to the butcher easily enough. Not that it was any of your business. Zhongli wasn’t any of your business anymore. It would be better if you could forget him, if you could erase this feeling in your heart that refused to go away. Even now Zhongli was beautiful. Even now you wished to run up to him, to hug him, to make pretend everything was right with the world. You couldn’t do that though. Just as you couldn’t forget him, you couldn’t love him. Not in the way you wanted. Turning away you trudged back home, good food utterly forgotten.

It was day eighteen since Zhongli had rejected you, and by now your emotions were running almost unbearably high. You’d sunk into an odd reverie of adrenaline, anxiety, and utter disbelief. What in the world was going on? This was a familiar illness to you, something that had almost claimed the life of your friend and had felled your coworker. You knew everything about symptoms, timeline, etc.; and what you knew was you were supposed to be falling ill ages ago. Eighteen days between the initial rejection and the beginning of symptoms? It was unheard of! You didn’t know what to think. Were the rumors about the gods true, had Zhongli imposed some divine protection on you for the sake of your friendship? Were you somehow a superhuman who had the white blood cell coding to defeat the bacteria that caused this disease? Why hadn’t your descent begun yet?

You lounged on the couch, having moved out of your bedroom on the thirteenth day, three days after the latest possible showing of symptoms. Though you still felt deeply afraid, you found that curiosity was a surprisingly good deterrent when it wanted to be. Your fears hadn’t disappeared, but mixed with them was a disbelief so great that you often found your thoughts drifting to questions of how rather than questions of when.

Of course your initial instinct had been to seek out Zhongli. Pride mixed with fear however had kept you firmly at home. Really what was the point in even seeking out the answer to your miraculous reprieve at this point? It wouldn’t really change the outcome. Instead you might as well enjoy this unexpected extension of your life. Besides, you didn’t want to tempt the fates a second time.

 Zhongli stood at the window of your first story apartment, a glaze lily in hand. He hadn’t meant to do this, but the urge refused to leave him.

He’d noticed you a few times at the market, face drawn, eyes empty. Zhongli wasn’t sure what exactly he was expecting, but certainly this wasn’t it. He knew you weren’t suffering from illness, your pace was strong, if slightly erratic, your general aura not that of the sick that Zhongli was all too familiar with. Why then did you look so terrible? The doubts that had plagued Zhongli began to rise again, jeering at the mistake he had made. He was supposed to protect you, right? Why then did you look as if you had experienced a total health collapse?

At first Zhongli tried to ignore it. You had not come to him for help, it was not his place to try and insert himself back in your life once more. The more he thought of you however, the more he found himself uneasy. He had to have some form of communication, some way to enquire about your health. At least one last time. If you explicitly rejected all forms of contact, well then Zhongli would leave. He would never defy your wishes in such a way. Until then however, he felt like he needed to ask.

The idea of walking up to your apartment and asking you was utterly off the table. Who knew how that might end? No, he wanted a subtler way. Glaze lilies had always been a favorite of yours, sneaking out into the evening to see them bloom even more so. He would simply leave one on your windowsill. If you took it, then he would enquire about your health. If you left it, well Zhongli would have his answer.

His hand trembled slightly as he stared at the windowsill, causing the gold ribbon tied around the lily to tremble slightly. At first Zhongli wanted only to give you the flower. He realized soon however that you might be confused, wondering if someone had not simply dropped a flower on your windowsill, or had the wind blown it there? The ribbon would hopefully clear things up. Even if it looked a little silly.

Slowly placing the flower down onto the open window Zhongli sighed. Turning around he did not dare spare a glance backwards. He would have his answer soon enough after all. Until then, well, there was no point in looking back.

 You exited from the kitchen, having finally felt the energy to make yourself that good food you’d been promising yourself. Going to look at the sunset you let out a soft gasp.

On your windowsill was a single glaze lily, wrapped in gold.

[flickeringart]

Short natal chart reading

You asked specifically about your communication style, so I’ll cut to the chase.

Mercury is in Scorpio, which makes your quite impactful, purposeful and potent – you are likely very observant and able to read between the lines. You know the value of information and the impact it can have if revealed at the wrong time or presented in the wrong context or in the wrong way. You’re likely to want to keep your thoughts to yourself and only reveal selected parts to selected people – even if you do reveal yourself it is never the whole picture. You enjoy ambiguity to an extent, although there’s unease relative to what people might keep from you. You reserve your rights to be suspicious at all times - nothing is what it seems. The common stereotype for having Mercury in Scorpio is the “detective”. You might not want to leave any stone left unturned in your thinking process – which can take you into quite complex and intricate trains of thought on a daily basis.  Since Mercury is conjunct the Sun, you derive a sense of self from your thinking – which can be both good and bad. Good because you feel that you are standing behind every word and thought that occupy your mind, bad because you might have a hard time differentiating yourself from your thinking. You might feel that your way of communicating is very much a reflection of who you are. This is not the case for everyone. Your Sun and Mercury are in the 1st house of Self, which means that you show up as your authentic self – people see you in your outward projected persona and what you think is a big part of who you are.

Your Sun-Mercury conjunction forms a strong square to Jupiter in the 11th. It might be that you find yourself blocked from accessing the freedom and optimism that you crave because it seems to contradict your way of communicating – even your sense of self. It would seem that, you have to spread yourself thin in order to socialize and be involved with a lot of people and causes, it would seem that you have to exaggerate to the detriment of your own innate caution and need for privacy which is natural to Scorpio individuals. Perhaps you feel that in order to have some chance of luck when interacting with people, you can’t be yourself all the way. You can’t display your true self with your friends and your network because in that sphere, you would feel the need to be purely optimistic open to experience. In your life, there’s expectance of good things to come, perhaps to the point of it being unreasonable – you might exaggerate your optimism in order to compensate for your innate caution and awareness of the impermanence of life. You put your faith in collective aspirations and although you might reap the benefits on one level, on another level you might feel frustrated that you’ve lost yourself to the group – in other words, what you gain from associating with people and forming connections is not allowing you to be yourself and communicate your opinions and thoughts in the way you would want to. Chiron in your 3rd house emphasizes the fact that you have to take a philosophical approach to cope with non-redeemable difficulties in communicating. What these difficulties and issues are exactly is impossible for me to say, possibly it has to do with the ignorance and lack of awareness of people around you – too much discipline or lack thereof in school, too much strictness and demands on how to interact, behave and think. Chiron is in Capricorn, which suggests that you would’ve felt debilitated in your ability to apply yourself effectively in your studies, feeling judged and inferior because of regrettable yet inevitable circumstances.

Saturn is in Gemini in the 9th house. It is also the ruler of your 4thhouse. It would seem that education and knowledge were promoted in your home growing up, not necessarily for the purpose of your own interest and self-fulfillment, but for the purpose of succeeding in society and developing your intellect. Saturn is in retrograde, which usually means that the native is hard pressed to personally undertake challenges for the sake of growth because they might not come on their own – and if they do, they are rarely conducive to goal of being responsible and self-reliant. In other words, you would need to push yourself and put yourself in situations that require effort, consciously. Since your question was specifically about communication, I should say that Saturn in Gemini points to insecurity and a sense of lack in mental abilities that might lead you to put on a charade of wit in order to not reveal your struggles. This is not beneficial although it’s understandable that there’s a hesitant attitude to be open an accepting of one’s insufficiencies. It’s fine to hide behind a coping mechanism as long as one is working on developing oneself from the ground up at the same time. Be honest and real with yourself in your struggle. There’s no shame in admitting to where one’s at and working toward betterment. Getting over the fear of intellectual failure is hard, yet you should keep in mind that you’re only ever truly accountable to yourself despite external authority trying to instill feelings of guilt or shame. Humility is the best antidote to prideful concealment of lack.

Your Moon in the 4th house in Capricorn points to a home with an emphasis on discipline instead of softness. The natural ruler of the 4th house is the opposite sign of Cancer, which has to do with mutual dependence and emotional nurturing within the home. Capricorn as the 4th house ruler is tough because you probably had to work to get your needs met. With your Moon in this sign and in this house, you might’ve adopted the attitude that nothing is for free and that you had to put aside your feelings in order to have a chance of stability and security in the long run. In any case, your home environment growing up was certainly serious. Neptune also sits in this house, squaring your Sun-Mercury conjunction. Perhaps it’s not too presumptuous of me to suggest that you had to blend in to the detriment of your own sense of self and your own mental assessments and opinions. With Neptune in the 4th there’s usually intense idealization as well as sensitivity to the environment and a need to blur the edges in order to cope with the less refined aspects of reality. You seek and sought complete merging within your family home, yet your yearning probably made you feel frustrated with yourself because you could never quite attain the love (Neptune square Venus) or the recognition of yourself that you hoped for (Neptune square Sun-Mercury). Your Venus in Scorpio is also in retrograde which means that external socializing, displays of love and affection was “lost on you” since you have a hard time with real understanding of what underlies social interaction. You might struggle with general unhappiness because of this, but your task is to cultivate the inner experience of satisfaction rather than seeking it in the external. Since you’re a Libra Rising, Venus is your chart ruler and it’s in its detriment in the sign of Scorpio. Your idea of beauty is tainted with themes of passion and intensity; you might enjoy reveling in the darker undercurrents, the things that are shocking, a bit taboo and forbidden.

Your Mars in in Libra, conjunct your Ascendant on the 12th house side. Mars is in the sign of its detriment, quite diplomatic and socially accommodating. Your way of asserting yourself is always aimed at being reasonable in light of the social setting and circumstance you’re in. Since Mars is in the 12th, you assert the will based on universal emotional longings that are common to every human being. You might never fight or argue on behalf of selfish agenda, it’s always in favor of trying to restore equilibrium and an experience of being emotional fused. You probably feel that anger is abstract energy and available for use, but it’s not to be employed on behalf of your separate self. Planets in the 12th can sometimes point to passed down familial issues, in the case of Mars here, personal drive and anger is “stuck in the ether”, unconscious and/or given up to live its own life “back stage”. Aries, the sign ruled by Mars, is in the 7th house, pointing out that you probably encounter your “shadow” (disowned qualities) of anger, selfishness and self-motivated action in other people. In addition, Lilith sits right on the Descendant in Aries, which suggests that you find other people irrationally independent and overly attached to getting their own way. You might even find that you compulsively display these traits in interaction with other people because you feel that you are going to be deprived of your chance to do what you want. You’re likely to feel deprived of your individual potency with these placements and you might come off as obsessively independent in relationships with other people for this reason. The whole dynamic stems from a feeling having to sacrifice personal interest and it often backfires in radical self-absorption and self-motivated action.

Let’s take a look at Pluto, your Sun ruler. It’s in your 2nd house, trine Jupiter and sextile Mars. You’re likely to be quite possessive fearfully protective of your material resources, which includes money and finances. You might be quietly and covertly acquiring your material necessities, or avoiding it all together because of the constant paranoia and threat of the rug being pulled out from underneath you. You don’t trust that you’re going to have enough for yourself to be content, ever, so you might be quite powerful and persevering in your quest for value. Pluto and Scorpio have a lot to do with impermanence and expecting crises to envelop without a moments notice so you’re always “on your toes” internally, scanning for potential chaos to break lose, especially as it relates to loosing what you value on a purely material level. This is especially true since Scorpio rules your 2nd house and Pluto is placed here. The Pluto-Jupiter trine would denote a strong sense of faith and confidence in your ability to survive ordeals, perhaps due to your sense of being part of something larger than yourself (Jupiter in the 11th house).  You might be concerned with how to regenerate faith and find value in seemingly “dead matter”, metaphorically or literally speaking. Your Part of Fortune is conjunct Jupiter, which pints to your prosperity coming through the broadening and expanding of your understanding of life through involvement in groups or causes. It’s quite possibly even linked to your career. You might take on the role of the inspiring and visionary teacher that transforms people’s lives (Pluto trine Jupiter). Or, put in other terms, your teaching and sharing of yourself will make you feel powerful and impactful in the world of ideas as well as that of form (Jupiter in 11th trine Pluto in the 2nd). Your South Node conjuncts your Pluto, so it’s easy for you to wield subtle power and take control. Pluto sextile Mars gives you a relentless will; you do fight dirty even if it’s below the surface and through quiet coercing and strategic manipulation that is barely noticed. Guilt seems to be a popular tool for Scorpio Mars in attempt to control matters, and the same could be said for Pluto-Mars aspects. Mars in the 12th easily lends itself to acting out the role of the martyr or victim of circumstances and when aspecting Pluto, this can be used strategically. You can probably be a little ambiguous and subtly threatening in your actions in order to get what you want.

Finally, let’s look at Uranus. It’s in its domicile in Aquarius in the 5thhouse, trine Saturn. The 5th house has to do with activities of self-expression and it would seem that you find an outlet for breaking out of the societal bars of convention within this sphere. You might have fun exploring new collective trends and ways of expressing yourself that challenges the status quo. It would seem that you incorporate your offbeat ways nicely with the necessity to conform and succeed within society, since Uranus trines Saturn. However, seeing as Saturn is in retrograde, you are not particularly in touch with the limits and boundaries of society – they don’t make sense to you. You might set high goals for yourself and work diligently to reach them, yet you don’t experience a correlation between your effort and the payoff. Looking to what is wrong with authority, rebelling against it and pushing new, more progressive thought systems might come easily to you for this reason. You might be inclined to hop on a collective thought trend and identify with it, embody it in your own unique way. You’re likely to express alternative ideas and conceptual framework through your creativity and spontaneity.

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If you’re interested a general chart reading similar to this one feel free to message me. I do a Basic Natal Chart Reading without the use of astrological language for 13.44 USD (6-7 pages), but if you want a more casual overview of your chart or have any specific question you would like me to go into, I charge 10 USD for about 4 pages.

[amor-immortalem]

Everything Undesired

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Warnings: dead dove: do not eat, heavily implied rape, gross misuse of a pact, dissociation victim blaming

Summary: not all pact masters use their pacts judiciously or in a positive way. What happens when a pact is misused in one of the worst ways possible?

A/N: so a while back I did a comic by the name of ‘Meet Me Under the Azaleas’ I’m no longer happy with the writing I put into it originally so I wanted to rewrite it using the same plot line and adding some extra scenes that weren’t in the original comic which I’ll be taking down tonight. It should work better as a fic anyway.

Chapter 1

“You are ours. We own you.”

Those words rang in his head over and over as he stumbled his way into his room, overstimulated, exhausted- a mess. He knew it was a mistake to answer the call of those witches tonight. The thoughts of what they did, how their hands ran over his body, what they had taken away. It made his stomach churn and tie itself in knots with guilt and shame. It burned just the same as the rope marks on his wrists and ankles- wounds that would heal within the hour.

“You won’t breathe a word of this to anyone- this we command of you, Avatar of Greed.”

Those women -no, they were monsters- abused the innate trust that comes with a demon who enters a pact with a human, multiple in this case. They had violated the boundaries he’d put in place the day he started dating his human. Oh God, what would she think if word ever got out? He had no way of speaking out- to scream the truth until his voice was raw.

He needed to shower, to get the stench of sex and sweat off of him. He had to get their scent off of him. As he entered the bathroom, Mammon tore off his clothes as he started the water. The lights remained off as he couldn’t bare to look at himself after what happened. Not after how he just let them use him like that.

He stepped under the boiling water and just let it run against him. The falling water did nothing to drown out the deafening voices running rampant in his mind.

“Disgusting!” They roared, “Useless! Pathetic! Weak! Whore! ….. Scum!”

He falls to the floor of his shower, hands gripping at his hair as he let out a whimper that eventually turned into quiet sobs. The steamy air making it harder to breathe. Why didn’t he fight against them harder- against their orders. No, he just laid there and took it.

He grabbed the soap and a wash rag and scrubbed his body until every bit of him was raw and even then he wouldn’t stop. It was only when he saw the blood swirling around the drain that Mammon realized what he was doing to himself- how bad the water burned the exposed skin. It felt like hellfire raining down upon him.

He felt horrible as he reached up and switched the water off. He could still hear it in his head as he reached for a towel- all the crying, screaming, begging for them to stop.

He was a pathetic, sorry excuse of a demon, he thinks as he wraps the towel around his waist and travels down the his stairs quietly. It’s early morning now. There was only a few hours left before he would have wake up for school. He contemplated just skipping the entire day. There would be know way he’d be able to function. He could always say he feels sick- its not that far from the truth. He would decide in a few hours, he thought as he crawled into bed. It didn’t take long for her to move closer to him. His naturally warmer body temperature was what drew her to him. His body involuntarily tensing as she nuzzled into his chest, arms slipping around his body. He would only tuck her head under his chin and drape and arm over her side as he let the scent of her shampoo relax him enough to fall into a light sleep.

After a short while, someone's alarm blared among the sheets- whether it his or Arella's, he couldn't be sure. Mammon patted around for the offending phone, just wanting to get five more minutes of shut eye. He eventually succeeded but not without waking his partner.

"Morning, Love," Arella sighed, her voice still laced with the grogginess of sleep.

"Mornin', Treasure," The demon yawns as he curls back up, pulling her closer to his chest. "Sleep well?"

"I did. What time you get back last night?" Arella's voice is soft as her hand slides under his shirt, rubbing gently along his side.

"5 this mornin'." He says as he tries to hide the way his body recoils from her touch, a pang of guilt strikes his heart as she notices. "Sorry... 'm not really feelin' all that great right now..."

"No, that's alright." She removes her hand from his side, choosing instead to rest it against his cheek as she readjusts herself so she's eye-level with him on the pillow. "How selfish of those witches to keep you out so late on a school night..." Its at this point she notices the puffiness and how red his eyes are. "You look like you've been crying... Is everything alright?"

He just shakes his head. Mammon wants so badly to tell her what happened to him the night before- the real reason he got home so late, but unsurprisingly, no words come out. He just closes his eyes, letting himself relax under her gentle touch. "I'm jus' really tired s'all."

"I believe it. You only got a hour and a half's worth of sleep. Would you like to just stay home all day, just the two of us?" Arella moves him so he's resting with his head on her chest.

"That's sounds.... nice," he hums quietly, so close to falling back into the clutches of sleep.

"Alright then. Go on and go back to sleep," She kisses the top of his head, carding her fingers through the soft, fluffy locks the other hand rubbing small circles in the center of his back. "I've got you."

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

This carried on for months. The witches would summon him and as long as he complied with their wishes, they would hold his secret. By the third time, he would check out- let his mind escape to anywhere but the present until it was over. It became a vicious cycle. They would call, he would go to them, and then he would crawl into his bed for maybe an hour or two before forcing himself to get up for classes that he often fell asleep in. After the tenth, once they had finished with him, he asked why they were doing this and they told him.

“We desire something to bind you to us for the rest of our lives.”

“A child.”

The demon’s eyes widened at that. Never in his life had he been so opposed to the idea of having children. In fact, just before all of this happened he had been daydreaming about what his children with Arella would look like if they were ever so fortunate to have any but a child with one of the witches? It made him sick. A half-demon born from a demon of his status had a high probability of killing its mother- one who he would then have to raise. How could he explain that to his brothers- to Arella? The very thought filled him with dread. How could he ever bring himself to care for a child conceived from a crime? A child that would always be nothing but a constant reminder of the worst nights of his life. They didn’t deserve a life like that.

And so Mammon did the only thing he could think to do: he fled. He ran back to the Devildom, back to House of Lamentation as fast a his legs would carry him. He crashed through the doors of the house. Never had he been so greatful to be the first one home. As he climbed the steps up to his room he vowed to himself never again. He wouldn’t give them what they wanted, consequences be damned.

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

It had been six months since his last encounter with the witches. There was nothing on their end- absolute radio silence. Part of Mammon wondered if they'd gotten what they wanted from him after all. Everyday was filled with the anxiety of not knowing. His nightmares had gotten worse. Most of them were based around those nights he'd spent with them, others involved everyone finding out a one-sided version of what had happened, all spun in the favor of the witches. He dreamed of Arella leaving him, heart-broken from the implication that he would stray from her and running into the arms of one of his brothers. The worst ones- the ones he would wake up from covered in a cold sweat in the dead of night- consisted of him standing in the witches' home, the sounds of screaming, the smell of blood, the piercing first cries somewhere between the call of a demon and the screams of a human baby infecting his senses. It all felt too real. It felt like a crushing weight on his chest.

Over this time, Mammon had grown distant from both his brothers and Arella, hardly spending anytime with them. He fell apart. The grades he worked so hard to pull up had taken a nose dive, he was hardly eating- choosing only to consume just barely enough to sustain himself. He no longer slept for fear of the nightmares and he instead threw himself into side jobs that would keep him out of the house well passed curfew as well as earn him plentiful amounts of grimm. He couldn't go on like this much longer.

Everyone was worried for him. None of them had ever seen the Avatar of Greed in this manner and the gradual change in his demeanor alarmed them. Despite everyone’s best attempts, Mammon hardly smiled anymore. He just simply didn't seem to enjoy all of the things he once did. They all knew something was wrong but when asked the white haired demon would shrug it off, say he was fine when he very obviously was not. Everything came to a head the night Mammon collapsed, finally falling victim to exhaustion and hunger.

It was after this that Lucifer called the family to a meeting while Arella sat with Mammon in his room as he slept fitfully.

"What do we do, Lucifer?" Asmo seemed distraught with fear. "Our brother is suffering from something and we don't even know where to start in trying to help him."

"We have to get him to talk somehow," Satan quipped, "Perhaps Arella can-"

"If this were any other situation, I would suggest it but right now, I don't think that's a very wise move. If she forces him to talk it could very well damage the bond they share." For the first time in thousands of years, Lucifer didn't know what to do. Whatever was causing this shift in personality was eating away at Mammon. "We'll try to think of a way to fix this- to find out what happened to our dear brother. So let's start at the beginning of all of this. What do we know about what he was doing before this happened?"

"Well, Levi started, "He was getting called up by those witch sisters with more and more frequently. I heard him come home super late- like early morning hours late..."

"And after that is when he practically stopped eating." Beel chimed in.

"And he was having nightmares almost nightly, afterwards." Belphie nodded. "I did my best with my powers to look into them but there were so many mental blocks that he subconsciously put up, I couldn't see or hear anything very well and what I could see didn't make a whole lot of sense. They weren't very clear, but they had something to do with the witches... and I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt associated with them."

"Then obviously something happened while he was with them," Satan said, brow furrowed. "But what that may be, we won't know until he talks."

"Asmo, I see the look on your face." Lucifer called out to the Avatar of Lust. "Is there something, you'd like share with the group?"

Everyone's eyes were locked onto Asmodeus as the demon sat with a contemplative look on his face. He was very slowly starting to piece together what had been going on.

"Not yet, but I may have a hunch." He finally said. "Mammon has a pact with these women, correct?"

Next

Masterlist 2

[loquaciousquark]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E111 (Sept. 29, 2020)

@eponymous-rose‘s internet is out tonight, so I’m here late and without coffee! Let’s see how many typos we can fit into an hour and a half episode.

Tonight’s guests: Ashley Williams JOHNSON, oops!! & Liam O’Brien!

We open with Brian in light-up vented sunglasses and Henry at his side, as always. Dani is very excited to be back and has fun-buns in her hair tonight. So cute! Everyone talks about how much they’re Zooming these days for work, and Liam mentions he and Matt & Marisha did a digital cocktail night. He and Dani arrange on camera to have a distanced, masked meetup in the park so Dani can see Liam’s dog again.

No announcements! Tonight, we’re discussin’ episodes 110 and 111.

Starting with the end, Brian jumps right to it by asking how they feel that Molly is alive. Liam 100% thought we’d be back to him, but still wasn’t ready when it happened. Caleb doubted he was alive. Both Liam & Ashley marvel at the numerology that keeps cropping up throughout the show. Brian hates not being able to see it at the same time the show happens live; Ashley was biting her tongue not telling him spoilers. (He doesn’t want to hear spoilers unless Yasha dies so he can be there for Ashley if needed.) Brian says he has a little reality trauma from the night Pike died in the pre-stream game; it was the first time he’d realized how much it affected the players.

Ashley’s realized how much she misses unpacking the game with Brian when they get home. She just has to sit with it until everyone else gets to see it. Brian: “Instead she comes home and I have to fill her in on the Real Housewives of Amarillo, Texas.”

Reunion dinner with Trent! Liam talks about how the way things unfolded with Trent is not at all how he imagined it in his pre-game creation; he’d expected more of a fracas, more of an unexpected clash. “Caleb might have been a different person if he’d run into these people earlier in the story. The M9 changed him before [Trent & co] came back and got to him.” He’d imagined Astrid & Eodwulf to be complicated encounters, but says what Matt’s designed has been even harder than that. A fight on a mountain is one thing, but walking into a room with “what Trent dropped, is impossible to cope with.” It also means that if what Trent said is true, anything Caleb does now is effectively of Trent’s design, even killing him.

He doesn’t think Caleb would have gone anywhere near Trent & co without the M9. “The Mighty Nein--it took a long time--but they cracked Caleb open like a walnut.”

He thinks what Matt has done is much more murky than the simplicity of murder, such as the Briarwood arc. He can’t just exact his revenge now.

Liam says that the tempation to tinker with time is no longer as all-consuming as it was. He might still be tempted if Matt dangles a bunch of carrots in front of him, but he thinks that now it might be better to make sure that that kind of thing doesn’t happen anymore for anyone else (!!!). “It’s still a nugget in his brain and it’s still possible he could be tempted by the drug, but what he wanted in the beginning was entirely selfish, but now that the M9 are involved he owes it to them, to the people of the country, even on the Dynasty side--is so complex that if Caleb were to get that carrot and chase it, he would be risking everything.”

Ashley agrees that most of their choices are no longer black and white. Many of the situations feel more like real life. Liam agrees and says he’ll sometimes make decisions that he’s both really happy with and regrets at the same time. They both look forward to what Matt will reveal in Act 3.

Brian feels it’s tough to gauge how deep they are into what Matt’s planned for the campaign. Liam says that thanks to Matt’s skill, he really doesn’t know what Caleb wants right now.

Ashley agrees, and talks about how she created Yasha to have more to overcome than Pike. She loves what Matt’s doing in terms of allowing each of them to overcome more emotional hurdles than physical ones in this campaign.

Going back to Molly’s grave was very exciting for Ashley since she wasn’t able to be there when he died in the game & wanted to do what she could to honor him. Yasha, however, was very hesitant but knew what needed to be done. She’s not very open with her emotions, but both she & Ashley were stressed. They all could feel the energy in the studio & knew Matt was about to do something mind-blowing. Liam: “You could feel all the dust in the air coalescing around Taliesin.”

Brian trips over Eodwulf. Liam tries to help him find some pronunciation shortcuts. Ashley: “You say it so beautifully.” Brian: “Thank you.” Ashley: “Not you.”

Caleb knows how wickedly intelligent & ambitious Astrid is, and was heartened by the wavering he saw in her at the dinner. However, he can’t trust her until he knows why she’s where she is.

He really feels that if they’d had this dinner 60 episodes ago, Caleb might have tilted back along the evil axis and he would have had to retire the character. He had a playlist entirely for if Caleb turned evil and left the party.

The vision of Zuala was a huge deal for Yasha, even along every other instance she’s had of being mind-controlled, etc. “That’s guilt I think she will always carry with her, but at least she’s starting to forgive herself.” Losing the chains, sprouting wings again--Ashley reiterates that she didn’t know that was even a possibility, she just picked the skeletal wings because they were dope--were huge moments in the character development. Ashley’s glad Beau was there at the moment of the first flight; Ashley thinks of the quotation “Happiness is only beautiful when it’s shared,” and because Yasha tends to keep things very much to herself, having someone there to share it made it more impactful. “That was a cool moment. There’s been a lot of healing for Yasha these last episodes.”d

Ashley also says sometimes in that moment, when all eyes are on you in a one-on-one with Matt, everything goes muffled like Saving Private Ryan. “Wub wub wub.”

Dani feels that the only way she could even have the conversation with Zuala was to let her go in the first place.

Liam thinks one of the things that Yasha & Cad share is that still waters run deep. He loves how much Yasha hangs back sometimes, only to then reveal some new moment like the fighting pit. Apparently Ashley also has a knife collection, and uses that metal side of herself when she wants to let that new side of Yasha show.

Cosplay of the Week: Crystal Armstead (@riyuski on twitter) in a Reani cosplay. Beautiful!

How does Liam feel about the return to Rexxentrum? Very, very complicated. Caleb loves magic and lights up when he sees it, which is wrapped in the Soltryce Academy; he brought folks to the dance hall for the same reason, which was wanting the M9 to see the things that he loved about the city.

Yasha felt the same way about visiting the Chantry of the Dawn. It was a memory of a very traumatic moment (almost killing Beau), but given everything that’s happened between then and now it was cathartic to see again. There’s been a lot of healing in the past few weeks. It also felt like a physical representation of Yasha’s growth, the last time she was controlled against her will like that (or at least, until she was mind-controlled by Vokodo. Ashley sighs, aggrieved.)

Brian: “The tower really feels like a love letter from Caleb to his friends.” Liam: “It is, and a love letter from Liam to his friends.” When he looked at Caleb’s spell list, he remembered how amazing the mansion was in Campaign One and how many role-playing moments it led to and knew he wanted to incorporate it. However, he knew it could never be the same as Scanlan’s mansion because Caleb doesn’t have the same improvisational genius as Scanlan does. Liam has been “tinkering with this machine” for over a year, waiting for the moment to reveal it. He loves that he got a chance to see Jester’s room in time to have her tower room reflect reality. He’d discussed the tower extensively with Dani & Matt. Brian: “Hey! What am I, chopped--what’s the saying?” Ashley: “Chopped cabbage?”

Ashley marvels at the design of the dome. Liam talks about how Caleb knowing Caleb has been abused has been slowly getting better, but he also loves now being able to juxtapose that healing with his innate love of magic and how beautiful he finds it, how he loves to use magic as his artistry. The Soltryce Academy wasn’t “Welcome to DEATH SCHOOL,” it was the Sorbonne. It was amazing, everything he wanted. It was only one bad apple within that recruited him and turned it all bad.

Liam also points out how much it means in real life to be able to express his love and care for his friends in person too.

Ashley talks about how much she loves Yasha’s armor in a meta sense because it’s so cool and useful, and great for her armor class, but struggles with what it represents in game. She might not be able to let it go due to its sheer utility, and she may have to find an in-game reason to justify keeping it.

Ashley segues a moment into talking about her velvet top which apparently has a matching velvet scrunchie. She’s asked to demonstrate the scrunchie and ties her hair up in a way that I have never in my life seen someone do with a scrunchie before, and my hair’s been waist-length most of my life. I watch it again in slow motion. How did she DO that??

Caleb’s been looking for the right time to tell Jester about his past for a long time. She’s a good person and makes him feel like he might be capable of becoming a good person at the end, because that’s how she saw him. Liam knew from Laura that Jester wouldn’t condemn him, but Caleb put it off as long as possible. He also wanted to take the time to make sure Caduceus & Yasha knew the whole story too before they went to dinner with Trent.

Liam was also relieved to get it out, because he could never remember who knew and who didn’t, and now he doesn’t have to track it anymore. “Now we can move forward. Now we can heal wounds, maybe.”

Ashley feels Cad picks up a lot, more than most people realize. Yasha was really affected by Cad’s line: “Patience can be good, but it can lead to apathy.” She really feels it opened her eyes, and she appreciated the simplicity of him pointing out her hair’s growing back white again. Having a friend notice “hey, you’re changing for the better” really means a lot. She’s interested in seeing how this means things might change with Beau.

Dani points out that it also reinforced for Yasha that she can want things too--she can be patient and just continue to be with the group, as she’s wanted, but it’s okay to want more than that too. Ashley remembers Veth asking her what her purpose is. There’s a part of her that knows Yasha is still figuring that out, and she’s interested to see how Yasha will continue to change. She’s always spent her life serving somebody--the Sky Spear, Obann--and then even after she joined the M9, it was very centered on “what do you need, what does the group need, how can I help with our next job?” She’s going to have to take some time to figure out what she wants.

Fanart of the Week! Lovely Yasha & Beau flight art by @JMNP7888. The wings look amazing!

Brian: “One of the things we want to talk to you about, Liam, is about the Vokodo fight and the FUCKING disintegrate spell.”

Liam: “That was one of the most insane 60-90 seconds of gameplay that ever existed for the table, and definitely for me, in the entire history of the show. A lot of people think I just went, oh man, just bet it all on black. But what if I told you that...I Larkin’d the first 20 seconds of that fight and then at a quarter to midnight, I forgot that the reflection was a thing? I just forgot it was a thing! I spent that whole battle thinking I’m just here to banish things. I might buff my friends a little bit, maybe I’ll counterspell, but I’m just here to banish. And it didn’t work and it didn’t work and then it did! Finally it did and Jester made it work and then he was GONE. And then everyone got greedy and it was done but we brought him BACK. And it was a quarter to midnight and I’m not an animatronic D&D lesson machine, I’m just a guy playing D&D at 11:45 at night, and he came back and everyone started Goodfellas circling him and kicking him, and Beau & Yasha are gonna kill him, and then it’s my turn? Disintegrate! And then the room was quiet, and then time passed, and Matt asked, you really cast Disintegrate? And I said yes, of course, and Matt started rolling dice, and in the back of my head I started wondering why he asked if I was rolling Disintegrate. Oh no. In the back of my brain, I was like, well, just tell him that’s not what you did. Tell him you didn’t remember the reflection thing. But he’s already rolling dice! You can’t take it back now. Hold on a second. I’m going to take you on the journey I went through. I was thinking: you have a spell save of 17. This thing wasn’t that fast. +1, +2, maybe? Anything under 14 is okay. That’s 70%. 70%. That’s okay, right? And still no one said anything to tip me off that I was in ELDRITCH MADNESS at that point, no one said anything about the reflection! And then I realize it can reflect back on us, and I realize this is...disintegrate. And then I started becoming morbidly, macabre-ly fascinated at the puppet dance of death I had created. Well, this is a mess. I have made a mess. Let’s just sit in it. And somehow, nonsensically, spectacularly, it worked out in my favor. I went home that night and I got in bed next to my wife, who was fast asleep, and I stared at the ceiling going, dude. Duuuuuuuude. Duuuuuuuuuude.”

He apparently also told his therapist about this and how terrible it was and how close he “danced myself to the precipice like a crazy person!” Marisha (as told by Liam): “Epic roll, though.”

Matt told Liam that night that if it had been reflected, it would have gone back on him. “If a player throws an M80 in the middle of a room, it would reflect on that player who threw it.”

Ashley talks about how interesting that Yasha is not performative, and yet has been doing these public performances with the harp. It’s a great experiment for Ashley--Yasha doesn’t like the attention, but feels like she is making something beautiful for the world.” She’s trying to change something about how she views herself & her place in the world. She was raised to be a weapon for the Sky Spear, but she’s also extremely gentle and loves flowers & beautiful music, and the further away she’s gotten from the tribe, she’s falling in love with gentle, beautiful things. 

Liam also points out it easy (real, but simplistic) to make an entire character centered around a single personality trait: “I’m angry all the time. I’m sad all the time.” He thinks it’s more realistic to see nuance in personality.

Liam can see some paths for Caleb to find peace & do good. He doesn’t know if Caleb is conscious of those. He thinks it’s a huge step forward to admit he was molded in this direction at all and that it wasn’t all his choice, but doesn’t know if this is the same possibility as redemption.

He also mentions Essek in this answer: there was/is attraction there, both intellectual and physical--the forehead kiss was a big marker of that--and he’s interested in seeing where that goes because he’s invested in Essek’s redemption arc on its own, but Essek is not as high on the list as other things Caleb/the M9 need to work on. He loved the “high spy times” of the Essek arc and the tangled-up-ness of feelings getting involved at the same time as intense commitment to duty.

Liam always felt Matt would bring Molly back in some aspect, even though Caleb always demurred because he doesn’t believe in fate. Dani and Brian agree that this is the start of a new act.

Ashley cried at the Vilya reunion. She thought that was an incredible moment and was so glad to see Keyleth. Liam: “Keyleth as part of our story is everything to me. That story is really important to me, so getting just a glimpse of her again was so important to me.” They could all see how that affected Marisha & how special it was to her. Liam: “It was such a great note in her song or color in her painting. She achieved magnificent things and was powerful and great, but had a very heartbreaking and sad ending, so to have this sliver of joy go back in is so complex and beautiful and masterfully done.”

Aaaaaaand that’s all for tonight! Remember, no Critical Role this week. Talks will be back in two weeks. As always, don’t forget to love each other. <3

[the-ethereal-serpent]

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On February 9, we will experience a passion-filled Full Moon in the sign of Leo. This Full Moon is one that will bring about heightened energy and courage and give us the initiative and strength to chase our greatest desires.

This is the first of two Super Moons we will experience this year and will reach its peak at 2:33am EST. Super Moons occur when the Full Moon is closest to the Earth as it moves about its elliptical orbit, making them appear up to 30% brighter and larger than usual.

This incredibly luminous Super Moon will see us experience more heightened energy and vibrations as we are showered in radiant moonlight. This Full Moon was originally named the Snow Moon by Native American tribes because of February’s winter and snow-filled weather.

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Leo is ruled by the Sun so anytime that we have a Full Moon in Leo, we experience a super-charged energy portal that shines a divine light down on those things in our lives that feel heavy and dark. This Leo Full Moon will ignite a fire in our souls and allow us to connect with our inner Sun, clearing away anything that seeks to dim our inner flame.

We are reminded that life is made to be experienced, not controlled. The Universe will help us feel more connected than ever before to our true life’s path. We are asked to take some time for self-reflection.

What brings you a sense of purpose? What sets your soul on fire and fans your inner flame? We will be showered with the divine clarity to clear away anything that separates you from your purpose and fails to bring peace within your life.

This is an incredibly strengthening and motivating Moon filled with incredible restorative energy. We will feel more connected to the present than ever before as we tune into the Full Moon’s energy and infuse it with our own. We are being supported in letting go of that which no longer serves us and that which seeks to weigh heavy on our soul.

This Full Moon relates back to the Lionsgate portal we experienced in August 2019 and we may find ourselves revisiting themes that arose during this time or harvesting the seeds that were planted during this time. As we push past old fears and barriers, we usher in a time of tremendous breakthroughs.

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With the Sun opposite the Moon, our relationships will come into clearer focus in the next few weeks. We will naturally put our attention towards our relationship dynamics and intuitively realize what is causing disharmony. Our emotions are at their highest during a Full Moon which can sometimes cause tension between our inner and outer selves and can sometimes feel draining.

However, it’s important to use this moment of increased subconscious awareness and connection to self to look at your relationship from an outside, balanced, and impartial perspective. The Universe is providing us with the clarity to see our circumstances and the power to make the necessary changes to create more harmony in our lives.

This emphasis on creating harmony is furthered with the Full Moon trine Mars. Mars is the planet of motivation. It blesses us with the courage and motivation to move from a follower to a leader, allowing us to make the first move and take the lead. Your intuition is at its peak as your instincts kick in, you realize exactly what it is you want to accomplish, and you see a clear path on how to get there.

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If you are a normally shy person, prepare to unleash your inner passions as you naturally become more assertive. Don’t be afraid to speak out. You are being wholeheartedly supported by Mars as the entire Universe stands by your side. Continue to move forward with honesty and sincerity, pushing past the fears that seek to dim your inner light. Mars becomes a motivational speaker standing firmly by our side. It offers us the support and motivation to move forward with confidence

The projects that we start during this Full Moon will blossom into something truly beautiful. Mars allows us to acknowledge the fears that have been holding us back, the pains that we have been carrying, and the things we have tried to avoid resolving. It creates a space for change, for progress. Allow yourself to shift, releasing those things that rest heavy on your spirit. Feel your body, mind, heart, and soul lighten as you awaken to your divine inner light.

As Mars and Neptune both increase our emotional sensitivity, we may feel conflicting emotions that can stir up confusion and tension. The lesson here is balance. If you feel tensions rising, take a step back. Become at peace with your situation and circumstances.

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Find the balance within your life as notice the positive shift that this conjures. Find the balance between service and sacrifice and emotional sensitivity and emotional outbursts. By having trust and faith in yourself, those around you, and the Universe, you create a foundation of pure love.

The two major fixed star alignments that will come into play during this Full Moon are the fixed star Ras Elased Australis and Ursa Major. Both of these stars will act as the planet Mars does and help to further reinforce the alignment of this Full Moon trine Mars.

Ras Elased Australis at 20 degrees Leo showers us in bold energy and a heightened power of expression. It allows us to look at our situations carefully before deciding to forge ahead. However, once a decision has been made, our journey down our life’s path will be divinely powerful as we let no challenges stand in our way.

Ursa Major will bless us with the gift of patience. As Mars ignites the fire within us, Ursa Major gives us the self-control we need to find balance.

We are being encouraged by the Universe to let go of past fears as we move forward with passion. We are showered with the confidence to act boldly but are reminded that any action must not be done out of selfishness. This Full Moon is all about balance.

By finding the balance between emotional sensitivity and pure bravado, we find harmony within ourselves and unleash our innate power. The Universe is reaffirming that it is this balance within ourselves that is the key to having our greatest desires fulfilled and the key to manifesting our wildest dreams.

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We are being taught to always move from the heart. Our heart is our soul, it is our inner truth and our most powerful tool. By liberating our hearts from the self-imposed shackles, we have created, we give ourselves permission to try, fail, learn, and evolve. Vulnerability is not weakness; vulnerability is power. Allow yourself to be vulnerable, even in the face of fear.

You are never alone in anything you face and will always find yourself supported by the Universe. It is by looking fear in the eye and saying “not today” that we see our biggest and most incredible growth. It is this shift in mindset that helps us find our inner strength and confidence, helps us to break free of our chains, and allows us to level up on our journey.

This is a Full Moon dedicated to standing in our power. This is the time to walk in alignment with our highest calling and connect with our Higher selves. Leo is a sign ruled by the Sun. It is time to connect with our own inner suns and the core of who we truly are. The core of our being is our ultimate reality and this Full Moon is here to show us our divine truth.

☽⦁──────── ⦁🌕⦁ ────────⦁☾

☽⦁──────── ⦁🌕⦁ ────────⦁☾

Article Source : https://www.moonomens.com/february-super-full-moon-2020/

Image Sources :

https://www.instagram.com/p/B8TmKYnnX- /?igshid=18n6hpusbnuhr https://www.instagram.com/p/B8VMrUxh3rc/?igshid=1acfng7h5ztz1

https://pin.it/tx2bct6n6x4zsp

https://pin.it/kvosm3j7vqp4yz

https://www.instagram.com/p/B581UtinKde/?igshid=et0odb8jl7f5

https://www.instagram.com/p/B8PDqQNB7GN/?igshid=1l61yyx1viygk

https://pin.it/ya233opaosgdar

[hashtagartistlife]

Do you have a license for all these hot takes? ▲ Unleash the other meta conversation. Please give use Ichigo.

Or not, apparently I don't know how to read and missed that you already did one for him. Oh well.

Even though I’ve already given my Hot Take about Ichigo (see here), I figured I can take this chance to write that meta I promised re: ichiruki’s double protag status, the meaning of ichigo’s name, and what it means to be a shounen hero. This will also sort of addresses the debacle a few months ago in regard to the Only well-worded, moderately coherent and somewhat valid IH meta I have read, which is also primarily about the meaning of ichigo’s name and how that ties in with the overall theme of protection throughout the manga. (I think the basis for the IH meta – that Ichigo only ever uses the serious form of the word ‘to protect’ for ORIHIME as an individual, and that the other times he uses them are for broader swathes of things—has been debunked in the comments, but since I don’t speak Japanese I really can’t figure out the validity of either side of the argument so I’ll take it as it is. Also, when I say ‘somewhat valid meta’, what I mean is in the context of the narrative I don’t think it’s valid at all, but at least there aren’t major glaring logical fallacies in the meta itself. The bar is so, so low for IH meta. I’m not even sure we can call most of their…. text-vomit… meta at all. 

Anyway. Petty and off-topic.) 

So, here goes: the meta about ichigo’s name and how it correlates to the theme of protection throughout the manga, what it means to be a shounen hero, and why and how those two things tie in with ichiruki’s double protag status! 

Ichigo’s name is comprised of two kanji – one obviously the kanji for the number one, the other a kanji that means ‘to protect’. We all know this. This leads to Ichigo’s name potentially having two interpretations: ‘one protector’ (or as the official eng translation put it, the one who protects), or ‘to protect one thing’ (the translation used in the scanlator’s versions + official kr translation). Both would make sense given the context of the entire story, but I tend to think the latter version is slightly more relevant (not necessarily more accurate— just more relevant), mostly because in chapter 19, straight after hearing the meaning of his name, Ichigo goes on to single out one thing (one person) that he wants to protect—his mom. 

(And why does he single out his mom for this honour? Because his mom always protected him. This is relevant a little later.)

He then does go on to say that as his sisters were born and he went to the dojo and got stronger, the list of things he wanted to protect grew, so it’s absolutely valid to read his name as just meaning ‘protector’. But, despite that, it’s very clear in the text that Ichigo always has one thing (person) that he wants to protect above all no matter what. This is the ‘one’ thing that he associates his identity of ‘protector’ to. Initially, it’s his mom—because when she dies, despite the ‘growing list of people he wants to protect’ still existing, Ichigo loses his sense of identity as ‘the protector’. Sure, he still protects his sisters, but it’s duty driving him— he no longer thinks of himself as a protector. How can he, when, in his view, he’s the one who practically killed his mother? His ‘growing list of people to protect’ halts to a stop, and years later, we see him telling Rukia that he’s ‘not a good enough guy to stick his neck out for other people’. This is a lie, as we all know, but it’s important that Ichigo is espousing this rhetoric. He has stopped actively wanting to protect. 

So, despite Ichigo having an innate desire to protect, I would argue it’s conditional – 1) dependent on the one person he wants to protect the most (e.g. his mom, and, as I will argue in a moment, Rukia) being alive and well, because otherwise he just falls into despair and rejects his identity as protector, and 2) initially dependent on the subject of protection being someone close to him. Ichigo, despite having progressed to ‘I will definitely protect everybody’ by the tybw arc, did not start there—it was a progression! He starts off very small and quite selfish – first, the person most important to him, his mom. Then his family. Then his friends. Then friends of friends, then acquaintances, then—and so on. This is why I said Ichigo is self-centred: everything he does is dependent first and foremost on the things and people that are most important to him. (Which is fine for a normal person! Maybe not so fine as a shounen protagonist, though that part comes later.) Ichigo doesn’t start off with some lofty ideal to protect the whole world – compare that to Rukia, who lands in the story and immediately demands him to protect everybody, regardless of distance or convenience. As dux put it in his excellent meta, this is an instinct towards protection versus a philosophy of protection. Ichigo has an instinct to protect, like most people do! But Rukia has a philosophy of protection, which most people can’t even begin to fathom or try to emulate. (This will, again, be important for a later point in this post, but for now, back to ichigo’s name.) 

So basically, we have established so far that: Ichigo’s name means one who protects or protector of one thing. But whichever interpretation we go by, it’s evident in the text that Ichigo has a… tether person, of sorts, that he ties the meaning of his name and his identity of ‘protector’ to—a person he wants to protect above all. Initially it’s his mom. But after his mom dies? 

It’s Rukia. 

It’s blatant. Ichigo being unable to save Rukia in ch56 broken coda is DIRECTLY paralleled with him being unable to save Masaki. At the end of the arc, in having saved Rukia, Ichigo regains his identity as protector finally gets some closure re: the Masaki era of his life: ‘the rain’s finally stopped’. It’s very clear that Rukia’s importance to his identity as protector is equivalent to the importance that Masaki had on it. Rukia has now become his ‘tether’; Rukia is now the person he wants to protect above all; Rukia is the one, who, should he fail to protect her, he would fall into despair and reject his protector identity again. He WAS a little down about being unable to protect Tatsuki, Chad, and Orihime in the HM arc, but it was nothing like the abject despair he experienced at Masaki’s death + Rukia being taken away for execution, and as soon as RUKIA comes back and affirms his identity, despite the fact of his failure still existing, Ichigo perks straight back up. Basically, failures to protect people other than Rukia get Ichigo down, but it’s not enough to keep him down as long as Rukia’s still standing. 

Ichigo also consistently goes apeshit over Rukia’s safety in particular. He’s not spurred into action re: going to find the Vaizards until Rukia becomes hurt. He thinks of Yammy and Ulquiorra, but his eyes don’t glaze over black until he thinks of Grimmjow, who has hurt Rukia. He refuses to split up and Rukia specifically calls him out  that it’s out of concern for HER safety. As soon as he feels Rukia being cut down, he immediately throws away the mission to go save her instead. And most importantly – what’s the main criteria for Ichigo deciding on the one he wants to protect the most? It’s the person who protects HIM. Rukia is one of the only people in the text who consistently protects Ichigo, physically, mentally, and emotionally. (She is also the only person that the text refers to as having ‘saved’ Ichigo. Nobody else gets this distinction.) 

Alright! So Ichigo’s instinct towards protection has a self-centred bent to it, and the person at the centre of this instinct has gone from being Masaki to Rukia. So what now from here? 

A little bit of a tangent: when I first read the chapter regarding the meaning of Ichigo’s name, I was a little taken aback, because – what a selfish name for a shounen protag, for someone who’s supposed to go on to become a hero of the world. Heroes don’t get to protect just one thing, they have to protect everybody! How is Ichigo going to be a shounen protag saving the whole world, if he’s only going to protect one thing? 

To answer this question, we need to have a look at what makes a typical shounen protag. Look at Naruto, whose ‘ninja way’ has rehabilitated countless people, who eventually became Hokage, so that ‘his ninja way’ officially became adopted as the whole Leaf Village’s ‘ninja way’. Look at Luffy and his crew, whose carefree attitudes and ride-or-die comradeship between their crew members is widely admired and emulated. Look at Fairy Tail, where Natsu’s guild is the ideal for what a guild should be, and many guilds have reformed in their image with their values. What makes a typical shounen protagonist, I would argue, are two main things: an indisputable, unshakeable, almost inhumanly good ideal widely recognized within the canon as the way that things should be, and the faith, power, and drive necessary to rehabilitate people to this ideal and change the world so that it becomes closer to this ideal. 

Naruto is the ideal of a ninja. Luffy and his crew are the ideal of a pirate crew. Natsu’s Fairy Tail guild is the ideal of a mage guild. 

Is Ichigo the ideal of what a Shinigami should be? 

Not initially! Initially, he’s just a prickly little kid with a shitload of trauma and depression to boot! Initially, his instinct to protect has a self-centred bent to it! Initially, he’s not even a Shinigami at all! 

This is where Rukia comes in. Rukia and her philosophy of protection is the ideal of this series – she is what all Shinigami should be. The text isn’t even subtle about this—Rukia canonically has the most beautiful sword (soul) in all of Soul Society. Realistic or not, Rukia is the ‘absolute good’ of this universe—her ideal is, theoretically, the universal ideal. 

But idealism alone doesn’t make Rukia the protagonist-- Rukia lacks the faith, power and drive necessary to turn people to her way of thinking and enact change, which is the other key component of a shounen protag. This is the part that Ichigo supplies—his complete and utterly unshakeable faith in Rukia and her values, the power necessary to back those values, and the ability to spread these values far and wide so that other people start to take up these values as well. I said above that Rukia’s philosophy of protection is so far-fetched that most people can’t even begin to fathom or emulate it—but Ichigo is not ‘most people’. He’s a shounen protag, goddammit! He has the ability to take up an ‘ideal’ that for most people would be impossible, and actually enact change towards that ideal. 

This is why Ichigo and Rukia are double protagonists. Not because they were designed to be matchy-matchy or because of their avalanche of matching titles or whatever else. This is why. They are literally two halves of one shounen protagonist. Kubo called them sand and rotator in the side A and B poems, and he could NOT have picked a better analogy for them. Think of a watermill (or a sand mill, as the analogy is given), which is used to grind grain. The mill by itself cannot perform its purpose any more than the water by itself can magically grind the grain. The water needs to be driven by the wheel through the right mechanisms, and the wheel needs the water to actually function. Rukia drives Ichigo, points him in the right direction with her values, and Ichigo supplies the force necessary to enact change. Rotator, and sand. One protagonist, split into two. 

(As a completely unrelated aside, I don’t know what it’s like in Japan, but in Korea ‘grinding the grain’ is a euphemism for sex, and watermills are inextricably associated with illicit liaisons. They’re the eastern world’s equivalent to the western world’s stables- any raunchy business conducted outside is usually conducted in a watermill.) 

This is also why Ichigo’s name wasn’t something more all-encompassing. He can ‘protect one thing’ and still be a hero – as long as the ‘one thing’ he protects is Rukia. He wants to protect Rukia above all else, to the detriment of others, even (as evidenced by him turning away from rescuing Orihime to rescue Rukia)—but Rukia tells him no, no, I refuse to be protected by you, you have to protect the whole world. This is why it HAS to be Rukia for Ichigo – anyone with less than the absolute selfless ideal that Rukia has could never make Ichigo into the hero. Rukia turns Ichigo’s head to the whole world, opens his eyes to the possibility of protecting more than those in his immediate circle, makes him selfless enough to go through with it. Rukia makes Ichigo the hero. (Big aside: I’m not using ‘hero’ and ‘protag’ interchangeably here. Ichigo is the ‘hero’ of the narrative, but BOTH ichigo and rukia are the ‘protagonists’ of the story.) 

But that isn’t the end of it. I have mentioned, in the past, that Bleach is not typical shounen, that it is structured more like YA lit and should be analysed as such. ‘But Sera! You just spent like 2 A4 pages talking about why Ichigo and Rukia are Standard Shounen Protags together!’ Ah but you see, that’s only initially. INITIALLY, Ichigo and Rukia need each other to become One Whole Stock Standard Shounen Protag. Rukia lacks faith and drive, Ichigo lacks ideal. They need the other to support their flaws, initially. To be completely honest, this is an excellent way to start an unhealthy codependent relationship. The most beautiful part about Ichiruki is that they don’t go down this path at all. They start becoming a whole shounen protag individually, by adopting the other person’s strength as their own. Rukia’s ideals inspire Ichigo, and by tybw, he is as avid about protecting everybody as Rukia is. Rukia sees Ichigo’s unrelenting faith in the fact that she is a good person worth saving, and starts believing in it herself and reciprocates in kind in HM and FB arcs. This is where the YA component comes in—YA protags, unlike typical Shounen Protags, don’t start off with an unapproachable ideal and the power+faith+drive necessary to change the world with it. They GROW into it. That is what Ichigo and Rukia are doing—they are both growing throughout the whole story to fit their protagonist roles, so that eventually, they can become One Whole Independent protagonist on their own. 

It’s a beautiful, perfectly balanced, ironic jigsaw puzzle: Rukia had the ideal, but didn’t have the ability to turn others to this ideal. The only person she turned to it was Ichigo, but that was enough—Ichigo turns everyone else to it as well, overcoming centuries of tradition. Ichigo had the faith and drive, but no-one to put it behind. The only person he put it behind was Rukia, and that was enough—she and her values guide his choices and actions, and he becomes heroic. Ichigo and Rukia each failed one criteria for being a shounen protag, except with each other, BUT THAT WAS ENOUGH. Affecting and changing just one person—each other—was enough to set everything in motion.

A couple other points that I couldn’t find a place to fit into the essay cohesively, but think they’re still worth a mention:

Rukia says ‘all souls should be protected’, and she enacts this by protecting Ichigo, who is a hybrid of all the different soul types present in the narrative: human, quincy, hollow, reaper. Ichigo, despite being such a mixed entity, identifies firmly as shinigami, not because the shinigami convinced him with their ironclad, lofty morals but because Rukia did. 

If Ichigo’s main flaw is being self-centred and tunnel visioned + a weird sort of superiority/hero complex, then Rukia’s main flaw is probably the exact opposite - despite having this incredible ideal, her lack of faith in herself + her tendency to obey the system in all but the most dire, life-threatening situations. Even their flaws are a perfect balancing act, mitigating each other out. (Rukia’s main flaws I probably want to go into in a bit more detail some other time, since it’s not something the fandom in general has much discussion on.)

So! In summary, the tl,dr version: 

Ichigo’s name means ‘protector’ or ‘to protect one thing’ (both versions have been used in official translations). The latter is more relevant, as I have explained above. This ‘one thing’ initially is his mom, but by the end of the SS arc, it has very firmly become Rukia, again evidence listed above. 

This had the potential to be problematic, as it’s not very heroic of someone to want to protect just one person, to hell with everyone else. BUT the narrative sidesteps that by making Ichigo and Rukia two halves of one shounen protagonist, and making them work best when they are together.

Shounen protags require two components: an ideal, and the ability+desire to enact that ideal. Rukia had the former, Ichigo had the latter. That’s why it’s not problematic for Ichigo to want to protect just one person most— because that one person is actually the ‘ideal moral standard’ of their entire universe, and she keeps telling him to use his powers for good and not just her. 

But that’s not even all. Initially, they need the other to become ‘whole’, so to speak— but they don’t stay that way. Ichigo and Rukia have an immensely positive impact on each other, and help each other grow to adopt the best traits of the other and become a hero in their own right. Again, this is why they are both protagonists— because both of them kept growing and changing, right up to the final arc. 

So, even though it’s been said a million times before, it bears repeating: Bleach genuinely is a story about Ichigo and Rukia, both of whom felt a little displaced in their own worlds and had trouble making connections. They connected with each other, and only then could their immense capacity for good could start changing the world. That’s really the crux of it— that it had to be each other for these two, not anybody else. Nobody else could bring out the best in them except for the other. They would never have become this extraordinary had it not been for the other person recognising their inherent value. It absolutely had to be Rukia for Ichigo, and vice versa. It’s always going to be the Ichigo and Rukia show.

[a-lil-perspective]

The Bad Batch X Sick Reader

A/N: This is my very first posted fic on here, I hope you all enjoy. Please feel free to provide feedback, it’s much appreciated!

Although you didn’t bolt upright in dramatic fashion upon returning from a deep slumber, you nevertheless awoke with a start, eyes fluttering open and feeling vaguely aware of the dampness of a cold sweat permeating your hairline. Disorientation takes over as you lie rigid in the bed, only being able to process the physicality of how utterly terrible you feel- you didn’t think you could move in such quick succession if you tried- Every joint feels stiff and your muscles are resistant to comply, attempting to encompass and entrap your body deep within the mattress, refusing to give way to your motions.

Swiping at the remnants of sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, you become uncomfortably conscious of the fact that your face is burning up, despite the rest of your extremities freezing in stark contrast.

This was no good. Your heart rate quickens as panic rises in your throat, gripping tightly as your breath hitches. Your mind begins racing, conjuring up every angle of the current situation in an attempt to make some light of it. You eventually force the lump down, giving into the overwhelming realization.

You were sick. Big time.

Fearing you looked as bad as you felt, you promptly thrust yourself out of bed with great effort and a groan of pain before stumbling into the ‘fresher, examining your entirety and fervently hoping your initial concerns were just an exaggerated oversight.

One glance at your trembling, pale, and achy form confirmed your worst suspicions.

“Kriff,” is all you can manage, further worsening matters by the realization of your curse rolling out only as a mere croak. Gritting your teeth, you roll your puffy, exhausted eyes and shake your head in disappointment. Great. Sick AND losing your voice. This can’t get much worse, you think to yourself bitterly as you level your gaze back at the mirror.

With great effort you manage you pull yourself together enough to make it out to the common area of the ship, bracing yourself to face the others. You remain self-conscious of your movements, attempting to exert your stance, stride, and demeanor with purpose as to not draw unwanted attention to yourself and your condition.

Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, Crosshair- they were no fools. Hunter especially, what with his enhanced senses and innate perceptions, will pick up on your illness lighting fast.

Realizing you’re up and starting your day much later than usual, it’s no surprise the guys are already up and in their respective places- although Hunter is nowhere to be found upon entering the common room.

Tech, lounging in a seat with his nose buried in his datapad, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, looks up to greet you first, his expression turning into that of perplexity.

“Good morning, Y/N. I am surprised you slept in. Stayed up late last night, I presume?”

You clear your throat in an attempt to forcefully exact your normal, chipper level of voice. “Hey, Tech. Yeah, something like that.”

He nods, returning sights to his work, facial expression evident that his curiosity is momentarily satiated. It’s clear that he didn’t pick up on the fact that your voice, despite your best attempts, came out in just above a whisper. For that, you were thankful.

You head over to the cupboard to pour yourself some caf, hoping a warm drink would do you some good.

“You look like hell.”

A terse statement from the jaded appearance of Crosshair standing in the corner, arms folded across his chest and eyes boring into you, caused you to jump and your already trembling fingers to drop the empty cup you had grabbed, clanging to the ground and reverberating with purpose as if some cruelly overly-dramatized joke.

Feeling frustration bubble to the surface, you sigh deeply and level a thinly-veiled unimpressed look in his direction, unable to muster the willpower to put up with his attitude today.

“Thanks.” You sneer. Before you even manage a step over in his direction to where the cup had predictably rolled, Crosshair moved in the blink of an eye to pick it up and appear alongside you, placing the now unusable cup to the side and in one solid motion, reaching up to grab a new one down for you.

You look at Crosshair quizzically. Out of all the other members on this ship with whom you’ve fallen into methodical and sequential step with, you two have still got some steps to learn to your dance, with you having never quite fully figured out the enigmatic sniper and all of his expressive layers.

“Thanks,” you mutter in just above a strained whisper, though pushing more sincerity and less of a sarcastic quip this time. Turning to pour the caf, you’re taken by mild surprise when Crosshair engages with you once again.

“You sick or somethin’?” His eyes narrow questioningly as he searches your face before reaching out tentatively to thumb at your cheek, gently cupping it.

You’re taken aback by the touch, distantly aware of your heart rate quickening it’s pace. You avoid his questioning gaze, instead focusing on the sensation of his cool fingertips meeting the increasing warmth radiating from your skin with ease. Despite the fact that the action further solidifies your current state of being fever-ridden. It’s oddly comforting.

You hesitantly turn away, but not before slightly leaning into his touch.

“I’m fine,” you manage weakly.

Crosshair’s not convinced in the slightest. But before he can voice his trepidation, Wrecker comes bounding into the room, his voice boisterous and projecting. Not exactly the sound volume you want to hear right now but, you can’t help but smile inwardly at his puppy-like energy. He means well.

“Hiya, Y/N!” Wrecker greets you with a less-than-gentle pat on the back, making you almost spill the cup of hot caf you had laced your cold fingers around just moments before.

You weren’t sure what facial expression you were wearing, but Wrecker falters nonetheless. “You okay?” He asks, voice coated with concern.

Kriff. You wish everyone would kindly stop asking you that. You just wanted to enjoy your kriffing cup of caf and TRY to recoup before your briefing in two standard rotations, with which you’d been tasked with compiling numerous works together in preparation for a large-scale mission forthcoming. The fact that you were in this state, so close to the arrival date of the meeting and your work not AT ALL in a state of completion, was seriously stressing.

“Yeah, Wrecker.” You once again smile up at the gentle giant looming over you. “All good.”

As if on cue in an effort for the universe to illuminate your lying streak with full bravado, your body is racked with increasing pain and you tremble, feeling a shiver go up your spine.

Nobody gets a word out before Hunter comes around. He looks as if he’s just awoke, blinking rapidly and rubbing at his temples. You consider him for a moment then, realization hitting you like a ton of bricks.

OH.

THAT’S why he hasn’t been around this morning.

Guilt suddenly pangs at your chest as you revert back to yesterday, recalling how Hunter had to turn in after the last mission due to a headache caused from a sensory overload. He had explained to you how it plagued him from time to time, and reassured you not to worry, but you couldn’t forget how much pain he was in- eyes glazed over, body doubled over, beads of sweat enveloping his face. It made you feel helpless.

Helpless, and embarrassed at your perceived selfishness.

Here you were, out here dropping cups from the cupboard and making general racket, all the while wallowing in your own self-misery today- having not even previously processed how Hunter could’ve been in the other room feeling just as miserable.

Now he stood before you, addressing everyone about something, something you couldn’t even hear over the sound of your own thoughts simultaneously drowning everyone out.

“-Feels like I heard commotion or somethin’ out here, just thought I’d check on y’all.” He grinned in amusement, feeling a spark of playfulness. “Wanted to make sure Y/N wasn’t acting up in here.”

Everyone cracked a grin but you, who all but blurted out your guilty admission, much to your chagrin. It’s your own guilt, coupled with illness, sporadic emotions due to the fact, and lack of coherent thoughts nagging at you all at once.

“Hunter... I’m sorry,” you croaked. All eyes were on you, each differing degrees of quizzical expressions.

“I-I’m the one who dropped the cup and made the racket. I didn’t consider that you could’ve still been feeling unwell. Sorry.” You sheepishly confess, before spilling into a coughing fit.

Kriff. Shouldn’t have said so much in one setting. Way to make your condition obvious.

Hunter, who holds the most mixed expressions you’ve ever seen- amusement, discomfort, confusion, laced with compassion- comes striding over to you.

“Y/N. You’re rambling. That’s not like you,” he chuckles. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me, okay? You look like you could use a lot more help right now.” He reaches a hand to splay out across your forehead to check for a fever that you both already know is becoming, to which you gracefully duck and sidestep him, all while gripping your cup of caf.

Crosshair chuckles at your motion and Hunter just looks to you. He’s diving fully into empathetic, sensible parent mode- you can tell- as he sighs exasperatedly at your innate ability to prove difficult.

“Y/N... ya gotta let us figure out what’s going on with you, so that we can get ya well.”

You look down into the cup, weighing those words and considering what to say next. You’ve never been one to freely and openly allow someone to care for you, nor have you fully possessed the ability to convey your feelings in a refined way- especially when you’re unwell. Your tenacity, though admirable, doesn’t always make it easy for someone else to know how to help you. Likewise, deeming it challenging for you to even know how one can help you. It’s a tedious cycle that plagues you when you immerse yourself too deep.

“I... I think I’m just tired.” you manage weakly. “Besides,” you croak, “I’ve got to get all my works completed before the briefing.”

With that, collective silence falls as you stumble back towards your room, thankful for the closed doors that keep your vulnerabilities and current physical ailments tightly locked away.

You were thankful for the brief quiet time, and managed to clear your head just enough to work for what you estimated to be about a half hour that came and went. With your work sprawled on the floor, you alongside it, the caf mug well empty now and off to the side, there’s a wheezing that now accompanies your breaths and, it worries you. As you lie flat on the floor, fear swells in your chest and you wish you had the courage to call the guys in here to you. You wish you weren’t so conflicted.

As you finish that train of thought, there’s a loud bang on the door.

“Y/N?” It’s Wrecker, the realization coming unsurprisingly to you judging by the obvious choice gesture of greeting at the door.

“Come in,” you strain your voice to project.

In the doorframe you find all four members of The Bad Batch, all weighing mixed levels of concern at your small, sick frame curled up on the floor. They all collectively rush in, though in a way as to not alarm you. In the moment, you’re thankful for their company.

“Hey,” Hunter soothes as he kneels down beside you, running a hand through your hair. “You’re gonna be okay. Let us take care of you, like you take care of us.”

You nod weakly, coming to your senses and surrendering all complaining rights in that moment.

Hunter orders Tech to go and grab the small medkit kept on the ship, though they’re all well aware of the fact that it’s not on par with medical facilities. Being several parsecs away from the nearest, they want to at least get the ball rolling here onboard for now. They decide not to move you until you’re stable.

Wrecker comes behind you and sits down, straddling you back into his lap and letting you use him as a body pillow. He doesn’t mind, he loves your small frame in contrast with his own, much larger one. You love how warm he is in the moment. It’s a mutual feeling between you two of safety and security.

Tech promptly returns with the medkit and although Crosshair is the only one appearing rigid and most hesitant to be hands-on with you, The Bad Batch get to work, communicating amongst themselves with the same efficiency they project amidst all things. They give you some anti-inflammatories to take the edge off, and you vaguely remember a stimulant- an overwhelmingly pleasant aroma of something very herbal-like. You initially thought it to be reminiscent of Bacta, but it wasn’t.. What was that?

Almost instantly, your chest felt clear. Your breathing became even and despite still being in pain, you were no longer wheezing. You attempted to make a mental note to ask later what the miracle worker was, but you weren’t able to give it much more thought as you felt your eyes suddenly became heavy-lidded, succumbing to rest you know your body desperately needed.

You awoke much later, feeling immensely better, and no longer needing the medical facility services that were finally available to you. Four pairs of eyes were studying you and, upon seeing you wake, the expressions attached collectively sighed in relief. You couldn’t help but feel something soft swirl in your chest upon lovingly fixing your gaze on the crew of the Havoc Marauder. They truly were something special. They knew you the best, and were able to have the most profound effect on you, no matter how adamantly complex you could be. They deeply cared for you. It’s moments like these, you realize how intertwined and inseparable you are.

You hope it always stays that way.

[ranposlittle]

hey can i get a matchup? i’m an intj and in slytherin, i’m usually very quiet because i hate interacting with new people (not shy just dislike it). super outgoing when i’m with my friends. i have a temper and i prefer to be alone, i hate having people tell me what to do and i don’t really care about what anyone thinks of me. but if someone’s in need i try my best to help and empathy is something that comes easy to me when it’s for a worthy cause. is that enough ? thanks!

❴🐰❵┊ I ship you with ➸ . . .

───── 「 𝙵𝚢𝚘𝚍𝚘𝚛 · 𝙳𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚎𝚟𝚜𝚔𝚢 」 ─────

How could Fyodor really ask for someone even better for him than you? As he watches you walk beside him, his fingers unconsciously entangled with yours as pride swells up on his chest. He may not be able to give one answer as to why he chose you, but he's sure of one thing: no one is worthier to be by his side than you.

You don't possess any special power, nor are you in a high and influential position, but as a Slytherin, you are with great ambition that matches your intelligence in order to achieve any of your goals. Or his, if you decided to assist him with his plans. That's why he trusts you so much. He knows he can count on you to accomplish anything you put you'd want, making you not just an excellent partner for his visions but also, an excellent romantic partner. Similarly to himself, you're ambitious and determined, realistic and assertive. You're really charming in his eyes because of your strong personality, so he never really had any issue in taking the certain steps to get you.

You are usually focused on the big picture of things and relationships are no different to an INTJ like you. You seek strong, deep and long term relationships. Because of this, Fyodor knows you only have your eyes and heart for him. It might be a bit selfish of him, but he feels at ease knowing you're not quite keen on interacting with new people, so he doesn't really have anything to fear in regards with your loyalty. Not that he had any doubts about you in the first place, but it's the other people he's wary of. He knows the things he's capable of doing to ward anyone who would lurk around you a bit too much, but he prefers to see you walk away from them yourself and watch their face as you settle by his side. If he really felt a bit threatened, giving a lingering kiss on your lips whilst never letting his stare leave the said threat's eyes usually does the trick.

It's not usual for Fyodor to hold someone in such a high regards as he does with you, so he will be protective of you. He's aware that you don't react well when you feel controlled, so he's careful not to patronize you so much, but he will not be lousy in making sure that you're always within his reach– literally and metaphorically. Of course, he wouldn't put any restraints on you especially if you'd want to spend time with your friends as long as he's the one you go back to at the end of it all. In addition, INTJs usually give a lot of freedom to their partners and would need that favor to be returned– and this Fyodor could do. He's not petty nor excessively insecure, so what really matters to him is that despite anyone else in your personal life, you'd still choose him.

Overall, I think Fyodor could be a good match for you because I think his own personality enables him to understand you beyond what you appear on the exterior. Because on the surface, you could appear cold and serious, doing whatever you in your personal opinion is right and not caring about what others might think or say about you. He understands your rationale behind your actions and will not take things too personal. He's more than willing to sit down and be open to discuss with you anything to reach a decision where the both of you could benefit or agree on. It will be quite an easy and mature relationship between the two of you as you both rarely fall head over heels in love or make spontaneous actions towards romance, nor have the need to do so. You will both approach everything with a logical head, a clear focus on your goal and high perceptiveness. Just like him, your want to be reasonable in your actions doesn't mean that you're unemotional. You perfectly understand the emotions and needs of others and would lend a helping hand if you see the benefit of doing so. Like Fyodor, empathy is not completely absent from your being, but more so kept safely for those who are worthy of it. You would have this innate understanding of each other's quite complex personality that most people might not immediately get, which in return, will make you both feel seen and appreciated for just who you are. I think you and Fyodor would be comfortable to grow together as a person as you go further with your relationship knowing that there's always somebody who you could run to and feel free to unapologetically express your true self with.

▮ ❝ Hello there, anon! 🥰 Thank you for sending in your request and being patient with it~ I appreciate it very much! I hope you liked your matchup! Take care! ❞