#they are always so poetic and representative

[presiding]

AITA? the guys at the pub told me to find a woman because she's sleeping with my enemy but all i had was a picture of her ass that i extorted from a well-known pervert. he couldn't name her and i didn't recognise her ass so i gatecrashed a party. i narrowed it to 1 of the 3 hosts but they were basically the same woman, idk, i cant tell them apart. some guy in a mask told me he was in love with the woman i needed and would deal with everything, i just needed to get her into the basement. so i told her she was in danger and she followed me into the basement where i strangled her. i never got proof she was involved but i guess it doesnt matter cause i found the ass i was told to find. i told my daughter's governess and she went quiet but the guys at the pub clapped me on the back. AITA?

poetic justice in revenge games: what's with lady boyle's last party in dishonored (2012)

a longpost i'd prefer someone else made tbh

references at the end

—

where to start?

dishonored 2012 is a revenge game (tagline: "revenge solves everything" [see also dh2: take back whats yours]), where high/low chaos story outcomes represent different types of power fantasies for the intended younger male (1) core audience.

the story & level design

each dh1 level is designed around the concept of revenge. with Corvo as the player character, each betrayal he experiences in the story gives the player rationale to seek out a target for justice in each level.

"The difference between Dishonored and how it works in Half-Life 2 is that it's a lot more personal. I think you get that involvement because the character has personal relationships with people from the beginning. And it's very clear that people have fucked with you in a very personal way," [Austin Grossman] said. "I'm biased, of course, but I think Dishonored grips you much more viscerally, more emotionally." (2)

dishonored is a game about choice: between low or high chaos options, each level's story can justify your decision to kill or neutralise - (nb: this means each target must have done enough wrong to "deserve" death) - and each level design prioritises player decision-making/freedom.

a common misconception about dishonored 1 is that its a game about morality, or right and wrong, but i argue its not that deep (affectionate). the chaos system is more about your role in the city's ecosystem than a morality simulator - kill more people, rats feast, the plague gets worse and the city becomes more chaotic.

poetic justice

because dishonored is a revenge game, each level involves choosing a fate for your primary target/s that will feel like justice to you, the player.

while assassination is always an option, the ultimate goal for each level is to engineer a fitting end for your victim.

this ‘low chaos’ option is reinforced in two ways - if poetic justice isn’t fun enough on its own, the game also rewards you with achievements for choosing ‘nonlethal’ fates.

[sidebar: enough players gave feedback that they didn't enjoy the confusion of choosing the 'right' way to play, that this feedback loop was removed from dh2:doto and deathloop (3)(4)]

storywise, low chaos/nonlethal endings are designed to feel like poetic justice.

to achieve this, the target's neutralisation must be 1) uniquely tailored 2) to the deserving victim.

a common phrase you’ll see in the dh fandom communities is:

“the nonlethal fate was worse”

but if you inspect the villain's actions/planned actions there’s an aspect of scale. your decision to incapacitate a single person leads to countless lives improved, in addition to avenging their role in the character's downfall (see also: the central premise of game called dishonored). this aspect of scale in wrongdoing (eg. villains extend their villainy to not just the player but in-universe to many people) gives a feeling of heroism to acts that might otherwise feel cruel.

because this game is designed around catharsis in revenge, it's important that the player feels that their actions are both fitting and justified - generally in a “turnabout is fair play” sense. these actions may be cruel viewed without context, but they are justified in terms of scale - this game isn't about being moral, or following the law, it's about revenge.

dishonored examples of poetic justice:

campbell branded a heretic and cast out because his power came from weaponising Overseer beliefs & systems

delilah trapped in the paintings she planned to capture a child in.

sokolov who trapped civilians for experimentation, was trapped in an animal cage

each villain demonstrably, within the game’s narrative, earned their fate - and because these are fates they planned to inflict on others, or already had done worse, the player character feels justified in their choice, and by additionally tailoring to each character, there's a sense of personalised and fitting revenge.

with the exception of…

who is Lady Boyle? good qn.

in dh1, there is only one female primary target - Lady Boyle.

canonically, the player must neutralize her because she is providing funding to the man on your daughter’s rightful throne.

in broad story terms, you are asked to find her because she is burrows' mistress.

the clue to her identity is a portrait of her ass ("finest hindquarters in all of Dunwall" - Sokolov), and when you get to the party, almost no one knows who she is even though she's the host.

in terms of level design, she is literally interchangeable with her sisters - the game randomly changes who your target is, and the character models only differ by colour. in terms of the universe, she's less a person, more of a sex symbol. as well as anton's comments about her ass, there's also the pendleton brothers' comments about wanting to fuck her, as well as multiple partygoers comments about the boyle sisters' sexual availability. there's a lot of gossip ingame but little is substantiated (as a reminder: the majority of dh players have only played dh1 and have not/will not read the canon books).

from both an internal logic perspective, and an external logic perspective, it “doesn’t matter” who this only female target is. she's barely a person, more a piece of ass.

poetic justice (for her)

unlike other primary targets with their tidy poetic endings, Lady Boyle (canonically Waverly) is not personally responsible for mass deaths (unlike, say, Sokolov), nor has played an active role in your downfall. let me expand on that.

a comment i've seen a bit:

"well she deserved it because she's partying while the city burns"

a woman planning to stay sober because she's afraid someone's after her doesn't sound like she's having fun.

her funding is not proven story-wise other than hearsay until Corvo has already finished the mission (a note from a guard in the next mission mentions the Boyle funding has dried up) (otherwise its speculation, its not actually in campbell's black book).

there’s no evidence she is providing this money willingly, nor even that she feels positively about Burrows (the letters in game hinting at romance are from him). one of the plot-points is that burrows was using his former role as Royal Spymaster to blackmail nobility with secrets. so, there's just as much a chance that she was his victim. (i've heard others say this is canon but i wasn't able to find evidence for that... if you know something i am curious!)

to complete this mission low chaos/nonlethal, you either need to lure her upstairs to drug her, or strangle her, or lure her to the basement before doing either of those things.

your options are to knock out a woman who has done you no direct harm, and you have no concrete proof she's done you indirect harm, and then traffick her unconscious body to someone you have no reason to trust.

let's review:

is her fate warranted in terms of scale? we only know it's true she was giving money to burrows in hindsight (eg. second runthrough), so not really no.

is her fate poetic justice? she is sex trafficked not because she regularly kidnaps people, but because she is the woman target, and is reduced to the sexual availability that so many NPCs comment on—she is not even a specific woman, given that she is gameplay wise randomly interchangeable with her sisters.

so it's not a case of turnabout being fair play.

yes, there’s a canon ending but that’s not the point here—we’re talking about the experience of playing dh1 first run.

let's rewind to another quote from the writer above:

“[...] it's very clear that people have fucked with you in a very personal way,"

assuming that the point of each level is catharsis for the assumed player, you can read this another way:

if your entire understanding of Lady Boyle as a character is that she is an unmarried woman who is presumably sleeping with your enemy (she's referred to as "the lord regent's mistress" regularly),

and she is someone that many people want to fuck, or at least comment on her sexual activity or attractiveness,

and as the assumed player you view any of this as punishable,

then... I suppose it is poetic justice that she will be locked in some creep’s sex dungeon for the rest of her life as revenge, regardless of her lack of role in your downfall, and regardless of how willingly she aided your enemy.

in other words, in this narrative's logic: sexually attractive women have this coming. as a target, lady boyle is less of a character and more of a trophy to be won.

contrary to poetic justice which is tailored and deserved, Lady Boyle’s fate of being handed unconscious to her stalker, is neither tailored (there was no precedent for this to happen to her - contrast with the targets who take lives), nor deserved (there’s no proof she had anything to do with corvo specifically, other than being his enemy's mistress. its debatable she was funding burrows willingly).

the purpose of a system is what it does

in a game that prioritises player choice, it is not possible to progress the game without choosing either to sex traffic Lady Boyle, or kill her.

this isn't equivalent to random bits of lore you can skip - you cannot get progress past the 5th level without making this call.

it's bad faith to argue "maybe he just locked her up and never intended to sexually assault her" within a universe that provides, unprompted, comments on this woman's body, attractiveness & sexual availability.

It is also canon. this is what corvo decided to do.

but isn’t the empire just sexist?

"when he says bring the bottles, i bring the bottles. when he says undress, I undress." - recurring maid NPC voiceline [multiple environments]

the world introduced within dh1 is sexist and sexually violent. this is valid - i include these themes in my own dishonored fics too, so the issue isn't the inclusion of these issues.

the difference here is that this is a game in which player choices are inherently about justice. rather than being a bystander trying to the right thing in a cruel world, you are an active participant in sex trafficking, and you are rewarded for this behaviour (achievements, a reward later in your room, and this contributes to the 'low chaos' ending).

this isn't corvo fighting the in-universe sexism, he's not even leveraging it --- this is corvo and therefore the player perpetuating it.

there’s no specific storyline reason to mete out a karmic punishment to lady boyle, then, well... is this cathartic to the player? given dh1's target audience, it's not a huge logical jump to say the story assumes you the player won't notice that this isn’t a deserved ending (accurately, given how few talk about this. and we've had years to talk about this). she's a sexy interchangeable woman who might be sleeping with your enemy, and there's rumours she's funding him too, and at that point ingame that's enough for her to deserve this fate.

my most generous take is that it’s lazy writing to forgo a poetic ending for a level/target.

a canonical retcon

the developers later expressed regret about this (see below harvey smith tweet).

presumably to address that "corvo is canonically a sex trafficker" thing, they added a storyline to a supplementary book which demonstrates that Lady Boyle was able to manipulate their way out of being kidnapped by her stalker.

imo this doesn't help:

this information is not in the game - almost no players will know of this (consider the # of book sales vs # of videogame sales). in writing, if it’s important, it will be both in the story and clear to the audience.

It reinforces myths that victims of sexual violence are deserving, or are lying/exaggerating etc. “you lived so why are you complaining?” and/or "well she was a manipulative bitch in the end so she deserved it all along”

gritty 'realism'

“its realistic because women are raped and stalked every day”

hiram burrows has cctv.

people love realism while the power fantasy caters to them. part of the power fantasy of corvo attano as a character is how the women in-game treat you (cecelia trusting you, emily being adoring/attentive/learning from you, esma boyle & lydia etc wanting to fuck you, piero talking to you/begging as though you're the arbiter of callista's honor in the bath scene, and saving countless NPC women). and this level, this target, is part of the power fantasy.

the thing about narratively punishing characters for being women, or having the wrong skin colour etc—is that, when you defend those writing choices by saying its realistic within the context of a fantasy game, you’re saying that inequality and the structural violence supporting it is inevitable, even when everything is made up.

additionally, it's gatekeeping: you're saying that escapist power fantasies are only for certain people. comparing “poetic endings”, there is a massive difference between the real-life statistical likelihood of, for example:

“put to work in your own slave mines,”

“getting kidnapped by a stalker.”

in my experience, people invoking ‘realism’ as a defense of their favourite media don’t want to discuss the ‘realistic’ things — more often, they want the people for whom their ‘realism in fantasy’ is reality to shut up so they can go back to enjoying their gritty fantasy, with other people's lives as wallpaper.

but pres i like this game

me too.

on that note, thanks for reading this far - its natural to resist analyses that critiques something you like. its easier and more comforting to shrug and say everything was justified.

as genius as many elements of dishonored 1 is, it is still a game for young men made in 2012... which isn't an excuse, just a reason. dh1 had every opportunity to not slip into this type of lazy writing - there's no particular reason to handle lady boyle & this mission this way as its not even satisfying at a player/audience level.

this isn't one miss-step, this is multiple miss-steps, and is less commentary on in-story/in-universe sexism, but more just regular sexism on the side of the devs, which is in turn excused at an audience level.

by working out what a game did well or poorly, we can learn how to do better in narrative design. we can also learn to identify similar plot shortcomings in other media.

and, from my perspective - it's another little contradiction to sit with in the things we enjoy. ah, dishonored, you beautiful ugly perfect fallible game.

talking about it

it's important to talk about this storyline.

don’t use the main fandom tags to criticise people who find this storyline shitty. it's weird. even if you don’t care about extending base-level empathy to people who have survived sex trafficking and rape/assault, it’s also citationless behaviour; the devs said lady boyle's fate was a miss-step.

part of why this is rarely talked about is - well, it’s hard. its emotionally difficult to talk about sincerely, and its even more rare to find an audience who will listen.

as a person who has survived similar violence, i feel like i need to write an 2,000 word essay with citations to prove that the only female villain in this game is treated in a way that isn’t justified in a doylist sense, nor in a watsonian sense. and honestly? that's not great.

citations:

1 - Dh demographics targeting (pdf) 2 - Quote source 3 - Dev interview & (4) article with dev quotes

[hyacinthusmemorial]

Someone pointed out that this was flat out wrong! So I researched before I posted this time ahaha. So I will just provide the sources and let them speak for themselves.

Here are the sources on Thamyris's story:

“Linus also, who was admired because of his poetry and singing, had many pupils and three of greatest renown, Heracles, Thamyras, and Orpheus. Of these three Heracles, who was learning to play the lyre, was unable to appreciate what was taught him because of his sluggishness of soul, and once when he had been punished with rods by Linus he became violently angry and killed his teacher with a blow of the lyre. Thamyras, however, who possessed unusual natural ability, perfected the art of music and claimed that in the excellence of song his voice was more beautiful than the voices of the Muses. Whereupon the goddesses, angered at him, took from him his gift of music and maimed the man, even as Homer also bears witness when he writes: There met the Muses Thamyris of Thrace And made an end of his song; and again: But him, enraged, they maimed, and from him took the gift of song divine and made him quite forget his harping.” -- Diodorus Siculus

“And Dorion, famed for Thamyris' disgrace, Superior once of all the tuneful race, Till, vain of mortals' empty praise, he strove To match the seed of cloud-compelling Jove! Too daring bard! whose unsuccessful pride The immortal Muses in their art defied. The avenging Muses of the light of day Deprived his eyes, and snatch'd his voice away; No more his heavenly voice was heard to sing, His hand no more awaked the silver string.” -- The Iliad of Homer Homer

“At Thebes he views the shields of those who died at the Battle of Leuctra, the ruins of the house of Pindar and the statues of Hesiod, Arion, Thamyris and Orpheus in the grove of the Muses on Helicon, as well as the portraits of Corinna at Tanagra and of Polybius in the cities of Arcadia.”

“The river is said to have got its name from Thamyris throwing (ballein) his lyre away here after his blinding. He was the son of Philammon and the nymph Argiope, who once dwelt on Parnassus, but settled among the Odrysae when pregnant, for Philammon refused to take her into his house. Thamyris is called an Odrysian and Thracian on these grounds. The watercourses Leucasia and Amphitos unite to form one stream.”

“Homer states that the misfortune of Thamyris took place here in Dorium, because he said that he would overcome the Muses themselves in song. But Prodicus of Phocaea, if the epic called the Minyad is indeed his, says that Thamyris paid the penalty in Hades for his boast against the Muses. My view is that Thamyris lost his eyesight through disease, as happened later to Homer. Homer, however, continued making poetry all his life without giving way to his misfortune, while Thamyris forsook his art through stress of the trouble that afflicted him.”

-- Pausanias

“Clio fell in love with Pierus, son of Magnes, in consequence of the wrath of Aphrodite, whom she had twitted with her love of Adonis; and having met him she bore him a son Hyacinth, for whom Thamyris, the son of Philammon and a nymph Argiope, conceived a passion, he being the first to become enamored of males. But afterwards Apollo loved Hyacinth and killed him involuntarily by the cast of a quoit.43 And Thamyris, who excelled in beauty and in minstrelsy, engaged in a musical contest with the Muses, the agreement being that, if he won, he should enjoy them all, but that if he should be vanquished he should be bereft of what they would. So the Muses got the better of him and bereft him both of his eyes and of his minstrelsy.”

Below is from the footnotes for this passage.

“This account of Thamyris and his contest with the Muses is repeated almost verbally by Zenobius, Cent. iv.27, and by a Scholiast on Hom. Il. 2.595. As to the bard’s rivalry with the Muses, and the blindness they inflicted on him, see Hom. Il. 2.594-600; compare Eur. Rh. 915ff.; Scriptores rerum mythicarum Latini, ed. Bode, i. (First Vatican Mythographer 197). The story of the punishment of Thamyris in hell was told in the epic poem The Minyad, attributed to Prodicus the Phocaean （Paus. 4.33.7）. In the great picture of the underworld painted by Polygnotus at Delphi, the blind musician was portrayed sitting with long flowing locks and a broken lyre at his feet （Paus. 10.30.8.” --

Apollodor & Pseudo-Apollodorus

Detail of the Muses from a painting depicting the mythical poets Thamyris and Musaeus beng instructed by the god Apollo. Calliope stands to the left with a raised veil, Sophia is seated with a box, Polyhymnia plays a lyre, and Urania gazes at the god. The names of all the figures are inscribed on the vase.

Found at the National Archeology Museum in Athens.

--

theio.com

Hi!! I'm a teen writer who's writing a book on Hyacinthus and Apollo, and I couldn't find ant sources who didn't give any information I didn't know.

You seem to know more than me, and I have a question.

Did Apollo pretend to be a mortal when he first met Hyacinthus?

And what else do you know about the myth?

It would help me out so so much and I'd he really grateful<33

apollo didn't pretend to be mortal, as i know i just thought it would be nice in my fic 😅

but i remember i once read somewhere that some mortal was intrested in hyacinthus (while hyacinthus and apollo were togeter), and the man died or something? i think he was also a poet? (well, i looked for the story. the muses took out his eyes)

i don't think there's much information about this story (i'll be glad if someone here knows more than me and can add)

but thank you for asking me, it made me really happy :)

[itsswritten]

love in ink

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader, (there's a bit of Az and Elain too sorry)

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Heartbreaking angst, rejection, blood, injuries, war, possible death.

Summary: On the brink of war, it was now or never to finally confess your feelings to Azriel, but when you stumble onto a moment you wish you hadn't perhaps it's the gods way of saying your confession had been too late.

The envelope was crumpled at the corners, the paper sure to wear thin under the pads of your thumbs. You stared at your handwriting, his name spiralled in ink slightly faded now.

Words you had written just over 50 years ago, a confession, a secret— a love letter for your best friend. A string of sentences and poetic prose that still rang true. You’re not even sure you remember what you wrote exactly, never really intending for it to see the light of day, however you knew your feelings were still the same. Despite the worn out paper in your hand, the envelope changed with time— your feelings had not. Unchanging. From the moment you met him, your love for him had always remained the same. If anything, it had only deepened and expanded with time.

The atmosphere of the war camp was heavy, the enemy soldiers high on the borders. It was only a matter of time before you would need to take your place on the frontlines. Before he, and your family took their positions among the soldiers to fight to protect the home you all held dear. 

Death was lingering in the air, whispers of it rustled through the trees that sent a shiver down your spine. An impending end felt as though it was looming over you, a clock about to strike its final hour or an hourglass about to crack. For the first time in years you weren’t sure how you’d all make it out of this one. That’s why it had to be now, those words that had always been on the tip of your tongue, the secret behind your gentle touches, the confession deep within your yearning gaze, you needed to tell him—to finally speak your truth. 

You moved between Prythian soldiers and Illyrians prepping themselves with armour and weapons, weaving between people with one destination in mind. Turning to see the commanding military tent you and Rhys had left him in hours ago. You hesitated for a moment outside, smoothing your fingers over the old parchment, your heartbeat quickening with nerves before taking a breath for confidence, stepping inside.

A shadow had tried to catch your elbow, its usual cool presence going amiss with your emotions shrouding your senses. If only you had noticed, noticed how it tried to save your heart. But with the adrenaline pumping in your veins, nothing could stop this now. 

Your eyes blinked adjusting to the dimly lit tent, filled with small fae-lights and a large table with a map spread across. Small figurines representing flanks that were knocked over now, there was no strategy to win this war— only luck, prayer and hope.

It didn’t take long for your eyes to find him, to settle on the large Shadowsinger who had always captured your attention in any room he was in. Even when he lurked in the quietest of shadows, your eyes always found him. He was so beautiful, not just in form but in heart too. 

That’s what you had fallen for first. Not his angelic looks, or that secret smile of his, not those expansive large wings that made you feel protected whenever in his presence— well it was easy to love all those things too, but it was his kind heart that spun this wheel of fate. Perhaps if you weren’t so tangled in your own heart you may have noticed there was someone else here. Scented another, a female. But it wasn’t until you saw his lips locked with hers that your gut sank.

Time seemed to slow in that second, while you saw Elain embrace Azriel in a moment you’re not sure you should have been privy to. Something so private and intimate. A farewell kiss before a war— a kiss you had hoped would have been yours. 

Elain’s body was flush against his front, her arms thrown around his neck to pull herself up to his height. Azriel’s hands, though hesitant, still sat on her waist. It was a twisting torture as you seemed to take in every detail of their embrace, the flush of Azriel’s cheeks, the beat of his heart, the light sound of Elain’s moan.

Your throat tightened then, time finally catching up as a gasp involuntarily left your lips. Heartbreaking and wobbly that you hadn’t even realised you’d made such a distressing sound before you’d stumbled backwards from the tent. One foot in front of the other, forcing your legs to move you faster as your heartbeat thudded in your ears.

Your cheeks were hot, blood rushing to your ears, teeth gritted as you tried to control the sob that was threatening to bubble up. Not here, not now. You couldn’t waste tears on this, not when it was your fault you had left it so long— not when you were about to go to war and you may never make it out again. 

You think you heard your name being called, but you pushed through the crowd further. Winding through the stifling tension within the camp, slipping in and out of pockets of soldiers, a dizzying spiral to try and escape what you had just witnessed. The image of them both kept replaying in your mind, your own vision becoming distorted with tears blurring with that near perfect picture of a heroic farewell you thought would have been yours. 

With one wrong step you collided with a body, a shoulder barging into you that only meant your wobbly legs followed your wobbly mind, and you collided with the mud below. You grunted at the collision, a whispered curse leaving your lips.

You needed to get a grip. 

You brushed the back of your sleeve against your face, wiping whatever tears that had already spilled and encouraged yourself to get ahold of at least a semblance of composure. You hadn’t endured 50 years under that mountain, 50 years away from your family— away from him to now suddenly break.

“Y/n…”

You could recognise his voice anywhere. That deep tone that always seemed to dance on the wind to you, weaving a melody around your heart. There was a shuffle behind you, and with a swiftness those familiar smoky tendrils came to you. Their aid and touch, always so soft as they tried to assist you from the ground. But in a movement so unlike you, you swatted them away. Their touch almost burning you. The embarrassment, the shame, the heartbreak that was coiling in your chest was too much to bear. And although there was nothing that you desired more than the cooling comforting touch of his shadows, you couldn’t bring yourself to indulge in it. Not now. Not after what you’d just seen.

Azriel breathed your name again, raspy and almost pained as you refused his help, pushing yourself from the ground. You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him, choosing to wipe the dirt off your leathers, your gaze remaining on the ground below. You could see him shuffle slightly, his boots stepping closer towards you in the dirt. His hand just in the corner of your peripheral lifting to reach, only for it to fall back to his side. Scarred fingers flexing and twitching against his leathers, the only indication that perhaps his own emotions were reeling right now too.

“Sweetheart…”, the name of endearment he always used with you fell from his tongue like a siren's song. You hated how much of a hold he held on you, how easy it was to give in, how desperate your heart wanted to submit. “Talk to me,” he breathed.

There was a pause for a moment, before you found the courage to look at him. Convincing yourself that this might even be the last time, and despite everything you had just seen, did you want to deprive yourself from one last look at the male who had held your heart for over half a century.

His hazel eyes locked with your teary ones, an expression upon your face that had Azriel’s brows furrowing deeper. He reached for you this time, no hesitation after he got his confirmation that you were upset. His hands coming to your arms. “Hey…hey. Talk to me sweetheart, I need you to talk to me, we can sort this…”

Did he even know what this was? What your tears were spilling over? Did he know it was he causing you pain?

You were certain he didn’t. Otherwise he would have known there was no fixing this. There was no way Azriel could fix your broken heart. But as those thoughts seemed to dwell in your mind, it was as if the Shadowsinger began to feel your defeat, a desperation in his tone, “Look at me y/n, hey…look at me. Talk to me, my lo-“

Rhys’ talons scratched on the edges of your mind, and you welcomed your High Lord in. An urgent broadcast not just to you but all his inner circle.

“Enemies have broken through the barriers on the East I need someone—“

The perfect escape.

“I’m on my way,” you replied with haste. Only to get a harsh no from Azriel in response, his grip tightening on you. 

“Don’t leave like this-“ his voice broke.

A part you almost stayed, your eyes lingering in his gaze, those three words still on the tip of your tongue. You’re not sure you could have survived outright rejection from him though, so, instead, you winnowed away from his hold.

Azriel stood there for a moment, his hands still out in front grasping with the cold air that was now between his fingers. A confusion simmering under his skin as to what had happened. All he had known was that something was wrong, from the moment Elain kissed him, to seeing you stumble out of that tent. Everything was wrong. 

And this was not a time for things to be wrong. There was a war unfolding right before him and he didn’t have the privilege of time for things to be wrong. Especially not with you.

His shadows were coiling around something in the mud. An envelope with his name on, in a handwriting that was unmistakably yours.

✴

The air despite being cool and crisp was stifling, choking, making it hard for Azriel to breathe. Although there was no fire here, no molten ash or smoke coating his lungs. Just an emptiness of a person he held dear who was nowhere to be found. An emptiness so heavy it was getting harder to breathe.

Azriel felt weighed down by the stench of blood that lingered in the air, the battle was over. They had won, barely– and now what could be heard were the grunts and cries of injured soldiers.

Azriel’s torn wings dragged behind him, as he trudged through the eastern battle line. There were more bodies littered here than on the main battlefield, a fact that hadn’t gone untouched by the Spymaster. You had gone here in an instant, leaving Azriel grappling with your scent on the wind as you’d left. Leaving him to find a worn out letter with words he wasn’t sure he was deserving of– a letter that changed everything.

A letter that made everything feel right.

The letter was folded neatly in the breast pocket of his leathers, just above his heart. 

“Where are you?” his voice was hoarse, he had been searching as soon as the battle was won. The usual quiet Shadowsinger had not relented when shouting for you in his search. But with every step he took his chest got tighter, the further down the bank he walked the probability of finding you was becoming less and less. His shadows that lingered on him for comfort began to move frantically, a direct reflection of Azriel’s fears bubbling under his skin. Their jittery movement hovering in the air around him.

Then he caught it. A faint scent he would always recognise. Barely there beneath the copper and rot. His head snapped toward the source, and before he could think, his feet carried him forward.

His shadows converged at a pile of rubble, a mound of shattered stone and splintered wood. They darted in and out, trembling as if confirming what he already feared.

“Please, no…” Azriel whispered, his voice raw. He dropped to his knees and began digging, ignoring the way the sharp edges bit into his palms. He pulled away debris with savage strength, tearing through the wreckage until—

You.

He found you. Broken and soul barely a whisper of the female he knew. Blood was matted in your hair, skin littered with gashes and bruises but your chest rose. Azriel could see small shallow breaths leave your lips, his own movements frozen before his shadows moved into action first. Moving you gently into their master’s arms, he cradled you. Sweet whispers falling from his lips that were pressed against your temple.

“Az–Azriel..” your voice hitched.

“I’m here sweetheart, you’re going to be okay. You’re so brave sweet girl,” 

“It hurts…”

“I know, I know my love…you’re so strong okay. Help is on it’s way, you’re going to be okay,”

Azriel had already sent a mental plea into the vastness but as he watched your eyelids begin to flutter he shouted into the cold air, crying to anyone who may hear for a healer, for help. Because he could not lose you, not now he knew. 

Your name left his lips in a sob as he pulled your fragile body tighter against him “Just hold on a little longer my love, please, for me…” His hand delicately came against your cheek, his own forehead resting against yours as a flurry of pleas rolled on his tongue. “Just a little longer…”

He swore he heard some semblance of a hum in response but your eyes were shut. He was stroking your blood-matted hair now, rambling and whispering. 

“I got your letter, I’m not sure if you really wanted me to have it, not sure if I’m really deserving of what you’ve written in it but oh sweetheart…your lovely words…I’m so blessed…so lucky…so undeserving…”

“But if it’s true..” he was stumbling over his words now, in between the sobs, “if you give me the chance to make this right…”

“I know now why you were so upset before…I think a part of me understood…felt your pain because in some way I was feeling it too…” his thumb was rubbing small circles on your cheekbone.

“If I could go back and change it I would. I need you to know it was a mistake…with Elain…tensions were high, feelings misdirected…

“I was thinking I could take you to the bakery you love when you’re feeling better, if you’d let me…we could make a day of it…walk along the Sidra…maybe our first proper date…

“I wish I hadn’t been so blind my love, you’ve always been the most special person to me…after you came back from under the mountain…I…well I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again…I just felt grateful to have you back, told myself I didn’t need anything more than that…

“Can you hold on for me…please…my love, just a little longer…

“Az…”, his name pulled him from his ramblings, although it wasn’t your voice that had spoken.

Azriel looked up, Rhys was kneeled in front of him. They weren’t on the battlefield anymore though. They were in a healers tent. When had they moved? Azriel couldn’t recall. 

“I need you to give her to me now.”

Azriel looked at his brother confused, then glanced down to your limp figure in his arms. 

“Azriel, now.”

a/n: sorry i know I had some requests for some festive fluff but instead I bring you this angst...sorry not sorry tee hee <3 thank you @writingcroissant for your help I mentioned this fic idea to her months ago and literally only found it the other week, if you don't like the elusive ending blame her ;) Although if I had taken @illyrianbitch advice y/n would most definitely be dead so I think the elusiveness means you can all choose your own endings. Maybe both her and Az are dead and actually Rhys is the devil I dunno

forever tags: @lilah-asteria @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @alittlelostalittlefound-blog @milswrites @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @searchingforbucky

[bamsara]

I'm new to this blog, what's dream lamb and dream narinder?? They're cool but I do not understand I wish to comprehend

Dream Lamb (And Dream Narinder) is exactly as the name implies; dream versions of the counterpart that only appears within Narinder's (Or Lambert's) dreams at night.

They are a visual manifestation of the subconscious, they are not real individuals. They can reflect what Narinder/Lamb's true feelings are about something/someone, or torment them about things that they perceive to be true.

One example is that Dream Lamb often makes Narinder remember how fondly he thinks of the Lamb ("You think of them so poetically" + all prior friendship he had with them in the gateway) or pointing out how his words contradict his actions; behaving and believing them to be a traitor and insufferable but doing things of his own will (resurrecting the crab, not killing their flock because it makes them upset, allowing Leshy to live, ect ect).

Dream Lamb ALSO points out the complicated feelings with his siblings; ie reminding him of how he used to help raise his youngers, and the mixture of emotions he feels towards individuals who he claims he despises.

Dream Narinder (Who is not into written form yet and is only in comic form as of this post) who instead of tormenting the dreamer with confrontation of feelings being denied, instead sews doubt and guilt. The Lamb feels even though they stayed true to themselves, they cannot help but feel like their perceived betrayal has damaged the friendship between them and Narinder beyond repair. Despite that grief for the loss of friendship, they'll accept what little companionship they can have from their best friend left over.

Dream Narinder fuels on this, often echoing their worst fears and worries ('You've done a good job as my vessel, so I no longer have a need for you.") So he acts non-nonchalant and often mocking/teasing, or even indulgent with the acknowledgment that none of it is real. Where as Dream Lamb confronts Narinder with feelings he's wanting to push back, Dream Narinder goes the opposite route, and calmly and casually reinforces what they believe to be the reality.

Dream Lamb represents Denial of the Truth, While Dream Narinder is the Acceptance of a Lie.

However,

Because they are corrupted visuals of the subconscious, but still their subconscious nonetheless, this means that these behaviors can change or be different depending on how the dreamer thinks/feels, and how they're processing their emotions in relation to something. Especially when they're confronting it.

In other words, the closer Narinder gets to accepting his feelings and understanding the Lamb's reasoning for their 'betrayal', and the closer the Lamb gets to realizing Narinder's care for them still persists, the more accurate and truer the dreams become.

Like in this comic, where Dream Narinder is tormenting the Lamb, but after their snap back that Narinder would not say something so cruel to them, despite his outward attitude, they are practically rewarded with a praise for it.

For Dream Narinder specifically, his eye remains closed....but opens a little more the closer and closer the Lamb gets to believing how Narinder truly feels about them, whether the real cat has accepted it or not.

As for Dream Lamb, they go from being very aggressive about their confrontation to something more docile, eventually as Narinder starts to process everything.

Another thing: the Dreams are linked. Not always, but they have to be on the same...wavelength for it. An understanding, perhaps. But they do affect each other, sometimes.

The dreams can be nice too, depending. That's why they're not always nightmarish. Meaning, with enough push and pull, eventually:

Why all of this dream and nightmare stuff is happening? Yet to be revealed.

Remember guys if you avoid your feelings in real life they might hunt you down in your dreams, and possibly bluetooth you to the object of your affections dreams as well if you're nice about it

[camilledlc]

I think the fact that Careless Whisper is Vanessa and Wade's songs and Iris is Logan and Wade's is very poetic and holds a lot of meaning. Let me explain:

Careless Whisper is all about a relationship ending, the longing for this person you won't ever have again and full of regrets. It's a song about a love that will never come back ("sad good-byes", "now that you're gone", etc). I also think the song deeply explains their relationship (Vanessa/Wade) in general.

Wade is feeling very insecure about his relationship in general, knowing that he hurts Vanessa (2nd movie), that staying with her is kind of selfish but yet he doesn't want to let her go ("I feel so unsure", "there's no comfort in the truth / pain is all you find", "guilty feet"). Besides, the lyrics : "we'd hurt each other with the things we'd want to say" is very much them when Vanessa breaks up with him in DP3. Realistically, he knows that "it's better this way", because he isn't good enough for her in his mind. He hurts her and he doesn't matter enough. He knows the relationship have to end.

Yet, he is still very much desperate for her love, and can't seem to let her go, like seen in the 3rd movie. He wants her back ("Please stay", "Was what I did so wrong, so wrong / That you had to leave me alone?"), because he feels as if she's his one true love. No one has ever had him like this (shameless So High School reference). She felt like his soulmate, and losing her is losing this kind of love that you only find once in your life, it's like losing his soulmate. That's why he's "never gonna dance again / The way [he] danced with [her]". And the song adds "Never without your love", and I think it really represents his vision. He can't love again, and entirely be himself again if it isn't for/with Vanessa's love. She was the good thing in him, his one true love, and now he's wondering if he's ever gonna be able to have a love like this again ("But now, who's gonna dance with me?").

Now, Deadpool and Wolverine introduces Logan in the mix, and one of the main song in the movie is Iris. I think it represents perfectly Wade's state of mind during the movie, and his relationship with Logan. I do believe it's to be taken more from Logan's perspective, but the general theme of it is the same.

This song is a love song, yet very melancholic and tainted with sadness. It is very repetitive, and the singer already seems to know how things will play out. I think it puts us in the mindset of Wade, who had a previous relationship that seemed doomed because it would never work with who he is as a person and as a hero. He realizes that, and that a relationship with him can't last ("When everything's made to be broken", "And sooner or later, it's over"). Besides, a lots of other lyrics feels like they could refer to him feeling generally insecure about himself and who he is. He is aware that he is not necessarily a good person, he often lies to mask the truth about his feelings ("the moment of truth in your lies"). He is prompt to annoy, and attack, and doesn't mind being attacked back. He always puts himself in danger, and I think that the lyrics "you bleed just to know, you're alive" could explain why very well. And funnily enough, just before the song says : "When everything feels like the movies" and we all know that Wade knows he's in one.

So I think that we have a Wade that is deeply insecure about himself cause he knows he isn't necessarily a good person, he endangers himself and others constantly, and he can't be too surrounded by loved ones because he's gonna hurt them or put them in danger by his existence alone. He can't love and hold onto love. Yet, he wants someone to truly know who he is and to appreciate him for him ("I just want you to know who I am"). He is willing to be known by Logan during the movie, opening up to him. He always hides behind a mask, and symbolically, it's a way to keep people out. In the comics, it is even said that his scars causes him to often be left out of public spaces ; and in the first movie, he refused to go back to his girlfriend because of them, shutting her out too. Its like the lyrics : "And I don't want the world to see me / 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand", which can be read both literally because of his scars and metaphorically because of his personality, his tendencies to be 'weird' and 'annoying' as he talks and talks and breaks the fourth wall. Yet, he shows his face without a mask to Logan during the important moments, and he also shows him his true self. He wants Logan to know who he really is.

So, despite being broken down and knowing how and why his previous relationship ended, thinking that this one will have the same fate, Wade just wants to be known and seen by Logan, to be loved for who he is.

And I think Logan do, and he very much relate to the first part of the song. From his reality, he betrayed everyone he loved. He has no real home to back to, nothing to live for. This is why he is willing to give up everything to let Wade alive ("And I'd give up forever to touch you"). He wants to sacrifice himself not only because it's what hero do, but also because Wade doesn't deserve to die. Wade is the one who made him proud to wear this suit again, like shown in his flashbacks at the end ("You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be"). Then, they both go to save the world together, and they look in each other's eyes like nothing else exist ("And all I can taste is this moment / And all I can breathe is your life"). After years of being plagued by the voices of his friends, in this moment, he can't hear them anymore because all that exist is Wade and him saving the world, and his memories of Wade giving him a life again. He genuinely appreciates Wade for who he is and what is done, even staying with Wade in his universe and in his home ("And I don't wanna go home right now", "I just don't wanna miss you tonight").

In conclusion, Careless Whisper represents Wade's love for Vanessa, and how despite them having to break up, he never thought he could love someone else again. Yet, with Iris, we know that Wade is still insecure and unsure about it all, but is willing to open up for love again, to be loved by Logan.

(And last detail because i really wanted to include it but it was already very long, I like how the sentence "And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming" reflects how Wade was never really letting himself live truthfully. He never completely acknowledged his own emotions, and so he was spiralling and battling within himself but never could get out of this as long as he wasn't truthful about his feelings towards his need to matter. But in the end, eventually, he realizes that he matters, and there are no more tears to fight).

[red-talkin-graves]

I don't know how to put it into words properly right now but I think there's something very poetic about the narrator and LQ both being represented by a crow or raven.

A man so desperate to prevent the end, so afraid of death that he'd prefer a world without change, is seen as a symbol of that very death he feared. On the other side of the same coin, the being he crafted to kill death is also very similar to a crow or raven. Both the creator of the construct and his chosen champion of eternity appear as symbols of death, and the "death itself" they've been set to defeat looks like just a princess. A normal human, an ordinary person, a consistent and everyday part of life.

Something about bringing about a world absent of death or change being a form of killing that world in itself, becoming the reaper you tried to defeat. Kill her and you've "saved" the world from death, but will always live as a representation of it.

[windvexer]

Using Tarot to Identify: a Person From a Small Group [1/2]

Any tarot card can be assigned a variety of indicators that help identify a single person. Most commonly the court cards are used, but old-school methods (such as assigning specific appearance traits, like gender presentation, race, and hair color) may fall flat.

Instead, you can develop and assign your own indicators according to your reading preferences, and the situation at hand.

Suppose you need to identify one person out of a small pool, such as a group of friends. What information would allow you to single out one from the rest?

If all of your friends are equestrians, it's useless to have indicators for athletic, loves animals, likes the outdoors.

What differentiates them? Maybe some of your friends compete, and others just enjoy trail riding. Indicators for competitive; victory and relaxed; nature might be helpful.

Each tarot card has the potential to carry vast amounts of meaning. For any reading, you must identify the relevant meanings to the question, and discard the rest.

This is true also for identifiers. Suppose we think the Knight/Pentacles relates to an outdoorsy nature and connection to animals. A useless card to identify a single equestrian friend. Therefore, those meanings are irrelevant and should not be included in the reading.

Instead, we can focus on other indicators which do not apply to all friends. The Knight/Pentacles can also refer to a very responsible person, someone who is steadfast and slow to act, or someone set in their ways and uninterested in new ideas.

Here we may begin to have indicators which can actually begin pointing to individuals; Kori is very responsible, but so focused on getting every detail right that she barely meets deadlines to sign up for competitions, and refuses to change her ways.

In order to help gather this information, focus on the way you frame your questions, and what spreads you use.

"Who is going to win the next competition" is a weak question, in that it lacks a support structure to hold desired answers. Craft questions in such a way that they are the perfect mold to cup the jiggly jello of the answers you desire.

You must craft your questions to support your reading style, and what makes sense to you.

Does using personality indicators make a lot more sense to you than physical traits? Frame your questions that way.

"Of our friend group, describe the personality of the person who will win the competition." There we go - a solid support structure to encapsulate the exact sort of information you desire.

Be creative. Brainstorm ahead of time and think about what traits make sense to work with, and assign them in a balanced way to the cards you want to use.

Here is where playing with the structures of tarot can be useful. Do all King cards represent authority in some manner, whether legitimate or otherwise? Maybe all Page cards relate to how the person sees and interacts with the world; Page/Swords can be an observant learner, while Page/Pentacles is someone who must learn through hands-on experience, and values experiences highly.

Then you can start to get somewhere.

The winner of the next competition will be an emotional, poetic person (Page/Cups) who must do things for themselves in order to learn (Page/Pentacles) and always helps others with understanding manual tasks (Queen/Pentacles).

This is perhaps someone you can identify, especially when you apply other techniques of tarot. (Two Pages - maybe they come off as innocent or naive, despite their developed knowledge of horses. Two Pentacles - they are probably very down-to-earth and invested in a hands-on career or trade school, they would never just sit behind a desk doing spreadsheets).

The key here is being crafty with your card meanings, and making sure they align to your reading style.

Suppose that you need to identify someone out of a huge pool, such as someone's future husband.

Here the game changes.

Read about it in part 2.

[transient-winds]

The conclusion of the Noroshi arc has finally arrived! Way to go Bofurin and allies 🥹🙌!!

Spoilers for Wind Breaker Chapters 157 and Chapter 158 ahead! (with additional doodles as an apology for not posting last time, exams was kicking my ass i fear)

Crazy how this whole arc happened in around or in less than 12 hours and I was so ready for it to end on 157 but I should’ve know Takiishi was too stubborn to be knocked out so easily.

GAHHH I have so much to say about the symbolisms in these two chapters.

So first of all, the “Umemiya’s will to change Furin is akin to forging metal” analogy from Endo (Chapter 153) comes back in 157, but now it’s being used in the context of Takiishi. The metal (Takiishi) is finally hot enough to be malleable for potential change and its evident with his new found interest in the rain. Throughout most of Takiishi’s life, he has remained static. He gets what he wants, when he wants and how he wants it. If he doesn’t like it, he gets rid of it. There had been little else that has ever made a significant impact or changes in his life, then he meets Endo and Umemiya—

—both becoming the faces of his perception on the types of people that exist in his life. Then, Umemiya takes it a step further and becomes the catalyst to a (much needed) change in perspective for Takiishi. In my opinion, Takiishi liking the rain can be symbolic of two things:

(1) the rain or more specifically water in Buddhism symbolizes purity, clarity and calmness. Think back to how hellish and messy Takiishi’s mindscape was like in Chapter 153, it had been full of all his interests (notice the fireworks in the bkgd? he said he likes fireworks in 158) and how he perceives things from the outside world. Takiishi starting to like rain means he’s introducing rain to his mindscape, and I can only assume it helps clean up that horder’s wet dream of a place. That is to say, he’s allowing himself to be cleaned from the impurities and bring serenity into his life.

and (2) it represents Takiishi reaching Nirvana (or something similar to it). Now, to most people this probably came out my ass but hear me out: nirvana literally means “to blow out (a light/fire)” or in other words “to extinguish” and as a concept in Buddhism, its a state in which one extinguishes the three posions (i.e. greed, hatred and ignorance) from their life and reaches enlightenment. AND THE TITLE OF CHAPTER 158 IS “The Great Fires of Extinction*”. *smacks my scrub-down board* DO YOU SEE THE CONNECTION RN? TELL ME IM NOT CRAZY FOR THINKING THIS. What I’m getting at is Umemiya was able to help in quelling the poisonous flames of Takiishi’s heart and guided him to self-betterment JUST LIKE THE DUTIES OF FUDO MYO-O AND EXACTLY LIKE HOW BUDDHA CONVERTED THE EIGHT LEGIONS TO BUDDHISM. (Sorry for the capslock im just *gestures wildly* excited)

*note: my delulu brain made the connection between extinction and extinguish because they both refer to the removal of something. (update: etymologically, they both orginated from the same latin word extinguere / lit. destroy or put out)

By the end of this arc, Takiishi has changed significantly and, as much as I hate to say this, but I agree with Endo on this being a beautiful fight. It had been a long time coming for both parties but it had been a necessary conversation to kickstart a new beginning for Takiishi like a rebirth of sorts (+ it allowed Endo and Sakura to gain perspective on people, their complexities and for the latter the responsibilities of being top dog). Wish it didn’t have to end in the rooftop and the town becoming a mess, but oh well, we can’t have everything.

I love love LOVE how Nii-sensei writes Umemiya. His role as a guide and protector to both his people and his enemies is so fucking beautiful and poetic, my words won’t do it justice. In my heart, I see it as him stepping up to be the big brother figure he was always meant to be—had the accident not happened, he would’ve been the best one in the world.

“There’s nothing more fascinating than people.” AGREED KING, SPEAK YOUR TRUTH. I

NOW FOR MY SILLY YAPPING!

UmeEndo conversation really shines in 158 and I’m living for it. I get you UmeEndo shippers, I get you. Endo’s so fucking weirded out by Ume’s optimism and genuineness, I genuinely love how uncomfortable he gets. I’m framing the faces he made in this chapter. Oh how the turns have tabled, you absolute goof.

I already said this once to a friend but I’ll only say it one more time, but I’m genuinely happy for Endo. He has stuck onto Takiishi like a leech without any expectation for the latter’s reciprocation and it was kind of pitiful watching him dance around Takiishi like an annoying chihuahua. Now that Takiishi has officially and verbally acknowledged him, it was heart warming…I guess. I'll let him ride this high with a follow up sketch I'll share here later.

–

Despite no sunrise panel, I think it was appropriate for this arc to end in a downpour. It’s fitting like a forest fire dying down from the rain to replenish the earth and grow anew with all the nutrients from the ash remains of the forest (shoutout to Ales for her EndoChikaUme being Fuel, Fire and Ash post, im kissing your brain rn). Overall, very happy with the conclusion of the Noroshi arc and I’m happily dancing to Happy Xmas (War is Over) by the Plastic Ono. All the love to Nii-sensei and everyone in the official English translation staff for literally the best arc so far in the manga. And thanks for reading ‘til the end of this post. ^^

[ninamodaffari]

concept artist waxing poetic about the machine herald redesign under spoiler cuts

genuinely I know a lot of people aren't a fan of the redesign b/c it is a departure from his lol form, but as a concept artist I FUCKING LOVE THIS DESIGN. I think his LoL form, as fun and awesome as it is (i do love it too!) would have looked out of place in the show. from what we've seen, the arcane, it's corruption, is almost this...celestial cosmic horror? and so his new design reflects that

i know the term 'biblically accurate angel' is overused here but that is the first thing that came to mind. not only with the halo formed of runes (and stars) but the face - *his* face being split in two, eyes closed. a schism, as he's always been. humanity vs 'progress', creation and destruction, life and death. it looks as if his new head, his 'eyes' are emerging from a shell of his former self, the eyes are located higher, almost as if he's 'seeing through his mind's eye'. his crown is formed of gilded, twisted gold, almost like demonic horns but contrasted against the halo? fallen angel vibes for sure.

(also ha ha, he cut through the door in the same shape as his new head)

but seriously. he's terrifying and beautiful. awful. pure, terrible grace and beauty and ascension and so not viktor. the complete opposite of what we've seen, and yet so terribly fitting.

also, relating back to the tarot card we saw in season 1, viktor as the magician...

'The Magician has one hand pointing to the sky and one hand pointing to the ground. '

'The wand held by The Magician is an illustration of his balanced pose. The wand is two identical poles joined together to form a perfect union.'

'Red is the color of passion and energy. It is the lifeblood that drives The Magician to create. The red robe roots The Magician in their emotion and reminds the reader to be passionate about whatever project they are trying to manifest.'

'Above The Magician’s head hovers the infinity symbol. Like a halo, the infinity symbol represents The Magician’s wisdom and holiness. '

i'm just saying. so much fucking thought went into this. I adore the design, I think it's extremely fitting and something I can only dream of coming up with.

[gyll-yee-haw]

I'm yours

Jake Gyllenhaal smut/fluff

This one is a bit different <33

Not requested, straight up self indulgent 🤭

Prompt: you and Jake are ridiculously in love, but decide to take things slowly. One day, you realize you're ready to make love to him for the first time.

Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, like the best relationship ever, you're obsessed with each other, implied trauma with bad previous relationships, unprotected sex.

Like 1k words.

---

It was a big step letting someone walk into your life again.

Letting him hold your hand in front of your family and friends.

Letting him know about all your dreams and insecurities.

Letting him make you laugh and not care if you sound weird.

Letting him tell you he loved you and letting yourself say it back.

Your relationship was full of big steps.

But he always made sure they were taken at the right moment.

No rush.

Maybe day after day, as the trust grew between the two of you, his touch started getting more intimate.

Maybe you became comfortable with him grabbing your butt or your breasts during a make out session, or while you cuddled on the sofa, watching a movie.

Maybe you didn't mind changing in front of him and he complimented your body all the time.

And it's unusual to imagine this, but none of those actions, not the touch or the praises, none of them were sexual.

It was all about love and trust. All about feeling so comfortable around each other that your body represented so much more than pleasure for him…

But as your love grew, so did your desire.

Sometimes it was a poetic desire, like: I want to know all of you, feel your body so close to mine, I want us to become one.

Sometimes it wasn't so poetic, but still a very valid desire, like: I want you to fuck me senseless until I forget my own name.

Romance isn't about what you do, but how you feel while you're doing it, right? Maybe rough sex means "I love you" as much and the slow and passionate one. It's all about giving each other what you need at the moment.

And Jake wanted to know what you needed at that moment...

When he was laying on top of you, breathing heavily after a mind-blowing make out session.

His golden chain wrapped around your finger as you looked him in the eyes and said: "I'm ready."

His face was a mix of worry and excitement.

God, he couldn't wait to take the next big step in this relationship. To be able to love you more explicitly. To be able to give you more. To discover new things about you and, why not, about himself? He craved you more than he ever craved anyone else. Still, he didn't need to have you on the first opportunity he had. He needed to have you when all the circumstances would work together to make that moment unforgettable.

But the universe wouldn't tell him when that would be possible. Only you would. And he asked you a bunch of times if you were sure. Assured you that he could stop at any moment. That he would be gentle. That he was honored to be able to give you all his love.

And you assured him that you were ready to receive it. And to give him all of yours.

He undressed you and you saw a new kind of look in his eyes.

When he called you beautiful now, he couldn't hide the lust in his voice.

When he kissed all over your naked skin, his love felt like fire and your smiles became moans.

He undressed himself and he saw a new kind of look in your eyes.

When his hard cock brushed your folds, making you buck your hips eagerly.

When he finally entered you and you moaned in pain.

"Are you okay, baby?" He kissed your neck and stroked your hair, not moving a muscle until you were ready.

"Yes, love." You replied, bitting your lip. "You fill me up so right. Feels like you were made for me."

"Fuck." He whispered, feeling the urge to fuck you because of the praise, and the urge to give you the world because of how sweet you sounded. "Yes, I was made for you, honey."

It was a very romantic connection, but your bodies craved more than that.

So he started thrusting slowly.

His fingers intertwined with yours, his soft voice telling you: "God, you feel so good…"

Smiles and moans and the sound of his skin against yours.

And love. So much love.

Love and lust. All too much. At some point, he just lost control. And you were thankful for that.

His thrusts became fast, deep and hard.

He wanted to be inside you forever, and he knew that the slower he took things, the longer it would last… but it was all so overwhelming. He wanted you to cum, he wanted to give you his cum, and he wanted to start over. As many times as possible. His self control was based on previous experiences, and with you it was a whole now level, nothing could prepare him for that.

Nothing could prepare him for the way you screamed his name and digged your nails on his back.

Or how your eyes rolled back and you announced desperately that you were coming at that exact moment.

Nothing could prepare him for the way your walls clenched around his cock and how hard that made him cum.

But more than anything, nothing could prepare him for the moment he would have to remove himself from you. So he simply didn't.

He held you close and kissed you like he would die without your lips. At that moment, nothing could convince him he wouldn't.

He felt like his lips had only two jobs in this world: taste your skin and praise you:

"You were so wonderful, princess. I love you so much."

"I'm not letting you go, I wanna stay like this forever…"

Didn't take long for you to feel him getting hard inside you again, and even though your sensitive and exhausted body asked you to rest a little more, your brain knew nothing but wanting him.

"Don't let me go, then." You told him. "I'm yours."

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but how has your opinion changed on Steven Universe now than when it first aired? Like I have fond memories of watching the show while it was airing but now I realize that it had a lot of problems that I feel like a lot of fans either flat out ignore or bend over backwards to make sure their rose tinted glasses stay on.

... okay, fair question. Let's talk about this.

I'll try not to wax poetic too long, but there are a lot of things to be said here.

First and foremost - how has my opinion changed since the show has ended?

Simply put - it hasn't.

When I started watching Steven Universe over 7 years ago, I didn't have much knowledge of it. I sat down, saw a few of episodes and went 'well, this is a silly show for kids with a goofy but loveable protagonist... but it seems like it's also incredibly charming with its delivery and has some nice, more complex themes about loss and healing and grief throughout.'

And if you ask me what Steven Universe is now... I would probably say that exact same thing.

Am I wearing rose tinted lenses? Interesting question.

What ARE 'rose tinted lenses' in this context anyway?

What do these lenses represent? What do they obscure?

Since you didn't go into specifics, I can only assume what you're referring to when you say that many fans ignore the show's problems.

There have been many discussions surrounding various aspects of the show and how it might be read as 'problematic' (ahhh how I've come to despise that word.... without context, it has all the descriptive power of the word 'icky' - none of the critical details and all of the emotional punch of scrunching up your face like a cat that just sniffed a lemon...)

Is this about something as simple as the 'SU doesn't have a consistent size for its characters' debate?

Because that has been gone back to, over and over again, and proven to be a point of opinion. SU favored allowing storyboarders to show off their personal flourish, and even though Peridot was 30% hair in that one episode, it did not overall take away from the plotline being told, which was their goal. If you wanted to watch a show with consistent styling throughout, you can always watch a 3D modeled show, but keeping that up was simply never one of SU's main pillars. And I feel like it didn't have to be.

Is this about something more complex such as the way Rose was presented?

...and how her arc was shown backwards instead of forwards - showing first the person she became in the end, and afterwards revealing all the growth she had to have to get there?

That was on purpose! And I don't think this is a problem. It's a feature, not a bug. Rose was never meant to be an ideal character - she was meant to be complicated and messy, and I think the fact that the fandom is so split in their opinions of her shows that the Crewniverse pulled that off really well!

She fucked over Bismuth! She forced Pearl to be silent! Those are both parts of her character arc that were never resolved because she died before she could resolve it - that's BY DESIGN. Sometimes, you just do something absolutely stupid and cruel, and you cannot go back to fix it.

Is this about the Diamonds? The fact that they were not put in space jail, after being put on trial for space crimes, and then publicly executed for space eco-genocide?

Here's the thing - most people I know who watched and loved SU are fully aware of that. But simply put - Steven Universe was not a story about Revenge.

Steven Universe was a story about love. A story about family. A story about truth, and lies, and hurt, and healing. About how sometimes healing doesn't happen. And how sometimes it will, but you won't be around to see it.

But it's not a story that can be all things for all people.

That is the thesis of my reply: It is a story.

It is not a manifesto. It is not a bible. It is not a Complete Truth.

It is a single story. Made by a group of very talented people, who cared about these characters, who did their best. They made a funny, emotional, well-drawn and complex cartoon show about the things THEY personally wanted to tell stories about.

Does it answer all questions the way everyone wants them answered? No. That's impossible.

Everyone wants a different story. Everyone wants a different solution, a different resolution. A different ending.

Steven Universe is one story. It cannot satisfy all people.

So when you ask me 'has your opinion of Steven Universe changed'? The answer is 'no'.

I went in, expecting to see a story. I saw a lot of what I liked! I saw some parts which I thought were interesting. I saw some parts which, yes, I disagreed with a little.

But overall, it's a good story. And that's what I expected, and that's what I got, which means I'm pretty satisfied. I love that story.

I feel like recently, there's this expectation of media, to be Everything For All People. And it's a bit unrealistic. No one call tell the perfect story. We are all simply telling the stories we want to tell. And people will vibe with that, more or less.

A single story, made by a small group of people, will never be that for you. There will never be an Unproblematic Cartoon that you watch that will be devoid of things you disagree with.

Being critical of media doesn't mean 'Criticize the FUCK outta that media, and the one with the least criticisms is the best one'.

Critical thinking is about evaluating things critically - that means being critical of YOURSELF. Being critical of your OWN reactions. Asking 'why did I like this?' and 'why did I dislike this?'. Asking 'this doesn't mesh with me, but who WOULD it mesh with? It isn't for me, but who is it for? Who would it hurt, but also who would it help?'

Some people HATED how SU: Future ended. They beat their fists on the wall and cried about how Steven was leaving his family behind, and how THEY could never imagine doing something like that, and how he was running away from his problems just like Rose had.

Me? I loved it. I think it was the right choice, and I COULD imagine it and thought it was in character. I thought he needed to be his own person, instead of shouldering everyone else's responsibilities for once. Was one of us more right than the other? Maybe not? Maybe that was the whole point?

Loving things is not about putting on rose colored glasses. Sometimes, choosing to love something with flaws is an act of rebellion. It's about knowing you have differences, but understanding that there is value in the things you DO agree on, and knowing you can consume that.

Healthy consumption of media does not mean throwing the whole cartoon away as soon as you notice something is wrong with it, like a bruise on an apple.

Healthy consumption of media involves critical thinking AND feeding yourself. Acknowledging you may disagree with parts of it, but not starving yourself just because your apples all have small imperfections.

Eat, for fuck's sake. Feed yourself. You'll feel better.

Thassit.

[getvalentined]

Friendly reminder that the only reason Genesis is the antagonist of Crisis Core is because Zack is with Shinra. Literally.

Once he's on the run, once Genesis knows that Zack can't help him, he literally brings Hollander to Gongaga for Zack to kill—he tells Zack what Hollander is planning under the guise of it being a joint effort, but once Hollander runs off, Genesis then tells Zack what he intends to do. He talks to him about Loveless and the Lifestream, he shoves a Banora White into his hands when Zack charges at him, and then he leaves. Hollander is left behind—in Zack's hometown, his own turf, so there's nowhere to run and nowhere to hide—allowing Zack to enact poetic justice at last by striking down Angeal's birth father with the very sword that the man who actually raised Angeal died to earn, the sword that honorless Gillian said represented all the honor the Hewleys had left.

And then, finally realizing what's actually going on, Zack sets out to to Banora to save Genesis from dying.

There's no point after Modeoheim that Genesis outright attacks Zack until he's cured at the Light of Doom; there, he calls Zack First Class SOLDIER even though he's not anymore, because Genesis isn't trying to strike down Zack, he's trying to reclaim the right to the only title he's ever had that felt worth anything, and he's trying to take the burden of that title from Zack.

If he wins, Genesis takes the guilt of killing both Angeal and Sephiroth—because he doesn't know Cloud's role, he doesn't know that Zack wasn't the one to strike Sephiroth down, he doesn't even know Cloud's name. Conversely, if he loses, then it's confirmation that Zack is the hero of the story, truly and completely, and that's all right too. If that's how the story ends, that's how it ends. (Minerva intervenes, pulls Genesis from the duel, and he never gets to see the ending. The final act, as in his beloved ancient poem, remains a mystery.)

Genesis is the main antagonist of Crisis Core, but he's never been the bad guy. The entirety of Final Fantasy VII has a single monolith of villainy, and that's always been—and will always be—Shinra. Shinra made the Reactors and dug up Jenova. Shinra made Genesis, Sephiroth, Angeal, and DeepGround. Shinra burned Kalm, Banora, and (partially) Nibelheim. Shinra used any corpse they found or made as research fodder. Shinra killed the last fullblooded Cetra and drove her only daughter to a place where the only way to save the people she loved was through her death. Shinra is the bad guy.

Zack is with Shinra for the majority of the game, and thus the story behaves accordingly. Shinra's enemies are Zack's enemies, because that's the side he's on. Shinra sees Avalanche as enemies, too, but no one ever refers to Barret or Elfe as "irredeemably evil" the way they do Genesis. Barret dresses up his quest for revenge in the guise of saving the planet, but all that matters to him is that anyone even remotely connected to the company suffers the way he's suffered. Elfe allowed Fuhito to experiment on people, to take the corpses of SOLDIER and make undead weapons out of them, violating the sanctity of their final rest and denying them entry to the Lifestream altogether.

"Genesis experimented on his men!" It was a desertion, not an abduction. People who become Copies when they aren't properly enhanced don't get the same enhanced abilities as a First and they degrade very quickly, we see that in Hollander and Lazard—meaning that every single Genesis Copy was one of those SOLDIER Seconds or Thirds that defected with Genesis of their own free will in Wutai after he grew a wing and the world turned upside-down. Genesis' men loved him and they went along willingly.

When Genesis locks himself up in the Light of Doom, his last hope for a cure, he has one last Copy in there with him. When Zack unlocks the gate, he's attacked by one last Copy, even though Genesis has been waiting for him, he's not antagonistic toward him anymore, he hasn't been for a long time.

Genesis took that last Copy, a man with a horrible disease who is definitely too far gone to save, and brought him along to the Light of Doom in the hopes that maybe, maybe things could be set right. When Zack unlocks the gate, that man throws himself at him to protect Genesis, because this is his last chance and Genesis' men love him.

When Zack fights Genesis' Weapon avatar and is attacked by incomplete and twisted ghosts of Genesis Copies, magical inhuman wisps that hold him back while Genesis heals—they're in the Lifestream then, the Light of Doom pulled them both in. Those Copies are literally the ghosts of Genesis' men, unable to diffuse into the Lifestream because of their Jenova infection, fighting to protect him from beyond the grave. Genesis' men love him. They want to save him. They went with him willingly.

"Genesis killed his parents!" The parents who lied to him his entire life in order to keep getting a paycheck from Shinra? The parents that funded his fanclub as a form of marketing for a company that literally wouldn't exist without Genesis' world-changing contribution to food processing as a teenager? Those parents?

Genesis has a little shrine in the Banora Underground where he keeps all his awards and achievements—a little desk with a lantern in an unfinished stone tunnel. They survived the bombing of Banora because they weren't in the house; the chalkboard has sketches of what would clearly become the Banora brand logo, which was presumably made about a decade prior to the Nibelheim Incident, not long after Genesis figured out how to make Banora White juice shelf stable, not long before he left for Midgar to enlist.

Having all the proof of every good thing Genesis has ever done shoved into a tunnel under his hometown, hidden from the public, while his family raked in huge amounts of wealth based on those achievements, indicates quite clearly that Genesis' parents were the exact opposite of good and loving.

But he buried them anyway, didn't he?

Genesis may not be a particularly good person, but he's never been evil, he's never been the bad guy. Genesis was right—more than that, he was justified. His methods were not. He did terrible things. He hurt and killed a lot of people.

But he was only ever the enemy because Shinra said he was. Genesis doesn't need a redemption arc because he already had one, and Minerva herself said he could serve the planet forever to prove it.

[saguette]

What do you think Johnny's art looked like before he was stripped of his powers? This is something that bugs me a lot, and I'm curious about what you think.

ok i needed to draw a few shitty pictures to demonstrate cuz i wanted to talk about more than just his previous art but his art journey in general IDC if there's some canon tweet that proves something i said wrong or out of timeline these are my headcanons and projections so you either like it or not.. anyways I think his style pre-pre-JTHM (lets say 15-18) depicted many things, He was good at realism and fluctuated just fine between stylized art and big hefty works with a lot of detail. His stylized works looking similar to Jhonens and the whole 2000's artstyle cuz its fitting.

Of course he's like, a late teenager around this time so its GOOD but not perfect. If you pulled up a few of his drawings from this time he would probably be embarrassed by all the disproportionate limbs and goth girls he sketched and thought were badass. He probably has old sketches of friends in his style regardless if they asked to be drawn or not since his art was something he was proud of and people around him made him feel proud of. His old art also feels like it'd have anime elements unintentionally to add to that amateur artist swag. Johnny doesn't like anime copies but stuff he rips inspo from was anime inspired so it rubbed off on his work too. Moving onto PRE-JTHM (18-20) Is when his art started to get more serious and complex. In his happy era he took to drawing lovecraftian horror sometimes but it was always the secondary focus of any drawing.

Moving out and growing up was around the time his mental state started to worsen and he started using art to cope with emotions rather than just use it for fun, drawing complex monsters was a subconscious way to depict underlying mental illness that's out of his hands. He cant depict what he doesn't know he has, he can only scribble things that feel someone close to him because there is no physical appearance to emotions. He never liked his art around this time because it always felt unfinished or wrong or like it just didn't interpret what he wanted right. Overtime his art lost coherent appearance, quality, and meaning which made it feel worthless. It wouldn't be all that bad but it reached a point not even he knew what it was trying to be and it was frustrating. How can your own art not make sense to you? Its weird to let your hands go and do their own and you not recognize what they're trying to say. Which leads to SHORTLY BEFORE JTHM-and later.. Johnnys NEW preferred method for art currently is a little abstract, it became two extremes of the same thing; nothing. his art lost alot of what it used to be so he says he cant draw anymore.

Johnnys lovecraftian horror art slowly engulfed itself over time and always becomes an abstract mess. Its purposely made to be incomprehensible by having too much, regardless if its creation is poetic, an outside view not being able to tell what it is or how much work went into it is on purpose. its metaphorical or whatever.. Johnnys fucked up or something.. Whereas Noodleboy i imagine was made by him drawing a stickfigure one day to see if he can still "draw" and overtime gave him his features like angry eyes and that big hair, creating his own sort of vent sona to replace the sketchy abstract art he used before. Noodleboys chaoticness is too sporadic to rip any meaning off of, he also purposely represents nothing. His existence uses up paper the same way, just without all the extra effort. SORRRYYYY long tangent thats probably super messy i just winged it. but i cant help myself ive thought about this for a while ik i didnt strictly answer the question but i had so much more to say

[vinestaffery]

if I could request something I’d love hc’s on darkheart it’s completely fine if not though I loved ur illumina ones and thought you might be willing to do darkheart:)!

-🩶

darkheart x gender-neutral reader headcanons

content: slight jealousy themes; worshipping elements; romantic headcanons; established relationship; mentions of insecurity of body

authors note: i had actually started this writing a while back, but lost the draft after my computer shut down which caused a major meltdown and pause for me when writing. so sorry for the wait, tried retrieving as much info about the old writing before!

pulling darkheart was something that was completely off of your list. it was strange how such a man could fall for someone like you, but it didn't seem to affect you as much. he was just the same as you, just a few more advancements and such. but, that didn't stop you from loving each and every bit about him. he was so lovable, you couldn't take anyone else other then him repeatedly.

very poetic, but that type of corny poetic, the one where he'd try fluster you but it'd leave you embarrassed and giggling, those are the types of flirts he loves doing around you. hearing your laugh and such just motivates him everyday. he couldn't help but feel proud of himself whenever he got that one smile or laugh out of you just for him being him.

he would always blabber about you to the other deities, sometimes even pissing them off because of how much he just talked about you!! oh he was overjoyed to have you as a partner, i mean, who wouldn't?

he NEVER struggled with affection, unless he wasn't in the certain mood to take it in. but, when hes not in an angry and a type of mood where you'd back off but still cherish his presence, he is the biggest cuddle bear possible. he picks you up, swings you around before embracing you. he were to be acting as if he hasn't seen you after a war! but, it always felt nice to feel him wrap his arms around him and question about your day.

always a gifter, specifically a strange gifter, but you love the little things he sees you in. sometimes, he'd bring you glass-stones or shiny material, it reminded you of a crow! he'd always deliver them by the door whenever he can or window, surprising you with the strangest of gifts. he found it ever so enchanting to see just figments of you in every little tiny thing, settling his interest only on delivering it to you. you have even dedicated this small thing of his to a whole array of ornaments! you just loved his little knick knacks and his lovable, dumb head.

sometimes, you'd play around with him and give him some sort of worshipping-type feeling. it never failed him to fluster or embarrass him, but it all for jokes (nothing sexual) that he tends to do with you! sometimes, he'd worship you in a lovable way, sometimes making the smallest of gestures. but, he does this MOSTLY whenever your insecure of yourself.

you have a tummy? who cares! he loves that shit. you got a small chest and believe you don't represent too much? don't you dare say that! your more then anything! your struggling with some identity issues and crisis's? dont worry, he'll be right there to tell you its completely okay, and that he sees you for who you are. he is so accepting and he'll take that to the grave!

sometimes, he struggles to get some sleep. for some guy, he really doesn't know how sleeping with someone works. sometimes, you can feel his legs tangle with yours, but he'd shy away and apologise. you'd end up tangling yours with his. sometimes, his wings may be the worst case for him, but that doesn't stop you from trying your best to help out.

this guy really likes weight ontop of him (self indulgence here, apologies!!!), so please do whatever you can to give him that weight. you want to just lay on him? go right ahead! he'd love that shit. he'll wrap his arm around you and just hold you close.

a great cook, but also a goofster with it too. sometimes, he'll make the cooking look a bittt funky, but that doesn't stop him from making the gourmet dishes. but, sometimes, he may make something thats... a bit strange. not to recall, that one kitchen incident you both had once!

i know i said this with illumina's one, but he would also do the one where he'd put his chin on your head and relax. he does this mostly to peeve off other robloxians that may interact with you. he doesn't do this because he's jealous (he does) but mostly to tell everyone that YOU are HIS! you are his for keeping!

corny nicknames!!! sometimes you call him your goober and he calls you his little shmoopy. he is always keen on other nicknames, but shmoopy is such a heart resonator for you and him. sometimes, he says it in public and it's the only way to catch your attention.

i hope these were good enough!! i was a bit tired but otherwise, i hope you enjoyed these..!!

[urlovebrini]

arranged marriage with ayato

⋆❀ — includes: ayato x fem! reader

⋆❀ — content: arranged marriage, kokomi's little sister! reader, angst, hurt/comfort, ayato is rude, ayato is bad at feelings, thoma is a sweetheart, traditions and rules, high expectations, conflict, fluff at the end, lots of water allegories, maybe a little to poetic, sfw

⋆❀ — a/n: hello everyone long time not seen, but i am back and will be writing more here! so i always love arranged marriages more if they are traditional, i try to investigate the use of japanese words the best i can but if i make a mistake feel free to correct me.

⋆❀ — arranged marries series: alhaitham | tartaglia | diluc

⋆❀˖°·࿐ ࿔˚ ayato

the strong sound of the rain lets you clear your mind and emotions a little, and even it makes you feel comfortable, it’s like the weather has decided to match your emotions, so you walk, walk to the middle of the storm, walk in the heavy rain trying to watch away all the feelings and emotions, trying to watch them and leave them behind, leave them behind as are you now leaving this house, this life, and this marriage. 

the arranged marriage with the head of the yashiro commission, kamisato ayato, was one of a show, a show of peace, a show of unity and a new beginning of relations between inazuma and ekanomiya, a marriage between one of the sangonomiya clan and one of the sanbugyou, to consolidate the peace between the two new lands, in this way, you took the responsibility, your big sister kokomi had always shouldered the heavy responsibilities alone if you could help her in something you would do, so you accepted and travelled to inazuma and married commissioner kamisato ayato, and you promised to your sister that you will be fine, in reality, you believed that you will be fine, you wanted this to work out. and maybe you were being naive, or maybe you are just weak but now you are walking in a storm hopping to get away, and as you walk you try to leave all the memories behind.

the day of the wedding was wrapped in expectation and solemnity, the gardens of the kamisato state were decorated with flowers and symbols that represent the honour of the union of ekanomiya and inazuma. the ceremony was simple and formal it was what it had to be. you remember your first big impression of ayato, cordial, charismatic, you could say charming, so you smiled, thinking that this could work better than you first thought. but when the ceremony ends and the night comes is a shift of reality, his attitude distant and cold, and you feel a gap between the two, but you try to understand.

the night came and your mind went to the room, you were nervous but you thought it would be a good chance to talk without people, get to know each other a little more, and maybe begin a friendship in the same way. so when the housekeeper of the kamisato clan guides you through hallways, surprise and confusion fill your thoughts as you take notice that your room is located apart from the main rooms. you didn't want to overthink things, but a sense of isolation starts to feel in your chest.

days passed, but the feeling grew bigger, you felt lost, but trying to take control you started to explore the new house, you were surrounded by strangers but that was a thing you thought you could change. and in the reflection of your thoughts you came to realise some things, one, the kamisato clan is always busy, the servants, ayaka, thoma and ayato are always working, two, ayato is keeping his distance from you, three, even if you are now a kamisato, you don't know what are you role or work in this house. 

you were in limbo, with a clear role or purpose in your new life, you are the kamisato ojousama, but is only in word, in reality, it is almost like you are an object a decoration, just a thing that doesn't even have a purpose and is just there. 

time goes by, and the rain gets heavier as the short memories started, you really never had a place here, it was clear since that afternoon that you walked into the office of your husband with nervousness and determination, and you really tried to integrate yourself in the kamisato clan.

“shujinsama” your voice is timid, his gaze rested on you, and although his expression was serene, you could see the trace of fatigue in his eyes. “yes, tsuma?” even in his soft voice, you could feel the distant formality that has characterized his interaction with you. his focus went back to the papers in front of him as you started to talk “i would like to help in the next event, maybe i could be in charge or something, or help in…” your voice stops as ayato eyes rest shortly on you and get back to his papers “is not necessary, all the events are managed fine by the kamisato clan, you don't need to worry about that things”

his voice was calm but your chest hurt with his words, even with that you tried again “i really wish to help in some capacity and be more involved” you don't know why but at that moment a tear slid down your face. 

silence fell between the two, as your tears slowly fell. ayato watched you, and for a moment, you saw a shadow of something beyond his facade of formality. but in the blink of an eye, his expression hardened again “ayaka is the one in charge, you are not needed” that was the first time you cried for his words.

you remember how thoma found you crying, not noticing his presence in your room as he brought you some tea, he was warm, and his words were warm, but you knew that he had a role, and you never would want to tear him from his position in the clan, so even there you were alone. and even if you are torn inside, you tried to believe in his words, in that it was only a question of time. 

for some time you tried to convince yourself that you would find a hold in this place, but is like destiny was laughing in your face, that was today, maybe yesterday, here all things have protocols, and without guidance, is difficult to not make errors. the last thing you remember before just taking a bag and getting out, was the cold eyes and cold words of ayato “your mistakes shows your negligence” you tried to control yourself, now your place “it was involuntary, i was just trying too…” but his worlds felt like knives it was confusing but you remember he saying things about responsibility, about your place, about you need to show your worth

so you try to get out, you come to a realization, even if you share the family name, you are not part of his family, even if you have taken his last name you are not part of the clan and you will never be, even if you are now a kamisato in law or paper, you realize that is not enough, there is a wall, the rain falls and in a strange way, the coldness and harshness recomforts you, without a plan you are walking away. 

"what do you think you are doing" a voice stops you, clear and loud, even in the middle of the storm, his voice is a bigger tempest to come, you can find more words, but you don't want to fight more, you never were a warrior, you never consider yourself strong and you don't want to be "going away". his voice is closer like a hurricane going your way "i ask again, what do you think you are doing?" you are in the eye of the storm "going away!, ayato i can take it anymore, i can't support a minute more” you are not looking at him, but hi looking at you his voice strong like always "and you think escaping is a solution? escaping your responsibilities here?"

your tears flow with the rain, the fear, the pain, the sadness and the desesperación flow inside you like a wave of emotions that they drag more and more into the sea, and all you can feel are those negative emotions, hoping to be washed away on a shore. 

the image of you can escape ayato eyes, his eyes fixed on you watching you, but in reality, seeing you for the first time. he sees you crumble, the intensity of your crying is even stronger than the rain, all the emotions in the wave that drags you more and more inside the sea drowning you, and you can't breath, all the weight of your emotions dragging you down. as more tears fall from your eyes, ayato sees how your breath runs out of air, your breathing more agitated and difficult. almost like you are drowning. he sees how thoma gets to you, face full of worry "breathe slowly, here with me..."

ayato takes his distance but doesn't leave, his eyes fixed on your trembling body, your reaction taking a toll on him, you can feel his gaze, his eyes, and you can feel him coming to you"i am sorry" "never have the intention to take you to this point, i… i should have managed things in a different way” but you feel your mind foggy like its an illusion, the rain pours strong over you, and your heart pours inside of you. 

you don't remember at what moment, you are taken inside the house, you don't remember at what moment you enter the bath, but now you are here surrounded by warm water and vapour, pleasant scents of lavender and rose, the room is lith in dim light, and the sound of rain continues outside.

and then the door opens, his eyes fall on you surrounded by water and spume, his eyes observe you, seeing you, he gets close, with slow and measured movements, ayato kneels next to the bathtub, is all silence only the rain until his voice breaks the silence “i have been a stupid fool, i have been also a despicable man, i made things difficult to you, and i have made you cry” his eyes fixated in you “i know apologies are not enough, but i will say sorry, and you have the right of not trusting in me, but seeing you cry like that… i don't want to make cry anymore” 

lost for words you look at him trying to form a sentence but the only thing you can say is “thanks” ayato smiles at you, and it seems like a real smile “i know I've made mistakes, that i have hurt you, and sorry is not enough, but if you are willing to give me a chance, to amend, i will change, i promise you will not longer feel trapped or unhappy”

you can only nod, this is all you wanted an opportunity, a chance, an open door, ayato hand travels slowly to your check, caressing your face, and it feels warmer than the water, his eyes are soft, his smile is soft, and he rolls up his sleeves “can i?” you nod even if you don't understand his hands travel to your hair and he starts to wash it  “ayato?” your voice is soft and he smiles to you “i promise i will make the things right”

⋆❀ — a/n: it was really a long time since i wrote something creative, but i am here and i will try to stay active and post constantly. really struggled with the start and trying to not make this a bible, hope that you enjoy it a little, maybe if it is received well i can make a long version for ao3, i like the idea of a young kokomi sister. like always commissions and suggestions are open, if you want to be tagged just tell me and be my guest, love you all have a nice day

⋆❀ — lovelies tags: @oveloof,

[cushfuddled]

I don't know if I want to make a video about this because it's SO subjective obv but also like. I've NEVER felt compelled to write a "homophobic au" where I take a tolerant fantasy world and make it bigoted. As a kid I used to complain ALL THE GODDAMN TIME about how fantasy writers could imagine a world with talking dragons and magic powers but always drew the line at equal rights for gay people. And here I am PUTTING THE HOMOPHOBIA BACK into a fantasy world WITHOUT homophobia. And I was like.

do I feel so compelled to do this???

I knew I didn't NEED an excuse to insert homophobia into Arcane. Write whatever you want etc etc. But I was so curious, since my preference up 'til now has always been for casually queer fantasy worlds. And uh yeah honestly I think this pivot stems from like, a disconnect between my understanding of systemic bigotry as a queer disabled autistic woman and the way Arcane appears to pick and choose its world's politics from a salad bar.

In the real world, social issues are all tangled up in each other. Racism and classism and queerphobia and xenophobia and ableism and misogyny and misandry and ageism...all these 'isms bud off each other in a kind of swirling feedback loop, necessitating an intersectional approach to activism.

At the end of Arcane, no one broke the cycle of violence. The council chamber table is shaped like a gear, symbolizing its members' status as a "gear train" for all change within Piltover and Zaun. Jinx's bomb destroys that gear with the rest of the council room, only for an off-screen contractor to glue the pieces together between scenes. Piltover adds more "progressive" representatives to its gear train, but the underlying oligarchical mechanism remains. If the cycle of violence ever breaks, it will be because these new "teeth" convince the council to trade their power for democracy. If the elite don't give a real voice to the marginalized (I'm not sure one or two non-elected representatives makes the cut), the marginalized will take to more radical measures to be heard, and the conflict will start anew.

Arcane's hostile oligarchical world sculpted Viktor into the perfect time bomb. Its proud disgust for immigrants; addicts; the poor; the disabled, taught Viktor great shame and hate for who he was and where he came from. These lessons are at least cousins to Social Darwinism, fascism, and the politics of eugenics. Viktor aimed to "evolve" himself and his people into a "perfect" final form. He equated "progress" with the eradication of disability and sickness...then emotion.

Here Viktor branches off from the emotionalism central to fascist ideology, declaring passion ("Our emotions...rage, compassion, hate...") the "cause of [humanity's] greatest evil." Viktor describes emotions as Freudian "baser instincts," dirty and corrosive in their "self-corrupting" force.

To deserve love and admiration, Viktor believes he must become perfect. And for all he waxes poetic re: science and reason and the people of Zaun, Viktor still bases his definition of "perfection" on the ideals of his oppressors. It says a lot to me, that Viktor's idea of "progress" looks like the total eradication of sickness and disability; the rise of an obedient, docile, dogmatic collective; the dominance of Viktor's dome amidst the modest shelters of his followers; Viktor's sleek, agile, white and gold robots. Viktor's goals share a springboard with those of the Piltover elite. Both systems place undue value on power and purity. Both depend on a complaisant, malleable public, and both punish individualism. Piltover pretends to champion movers and shakers and out-of-the-box thinkers, immortalizing key figures like "Stanwick Padidly" and Jayce, but Jayce was only allowed back into the world of the wealthy once he proved

a. he had something to give

b. he was deemed suitably manipulable.

The moment Jayce tried to clamp down on Piltover's rampant corruption (aka wield his newfound powers in service of the less fortunate), Mel was there to reinforce the status quo. It was made very clear that Jayce's options were either to fall in line or lose his job—along with the chance to make any kind of positive change. Behind the curtain Jayce and Viktor were only puppets in service of the wealthy and powerful. Hextech didn't better the lives of marginalized people. It upgraded weapons for the police and generated new trade opportunities for employers (the economy would've undergone a hell of a shakeup with the sudden flush of consumer goods and access to overseas labor. From the state of Zaun and Piltover post-time skip, I assume the new trade routes shuffled money around but didn't make necessities like medicine or shelter any more attainable for your average citizen).

"You used me, and Viktor, for Hextech. You called us 'investments.'" "Two brilliant young inventors who shared a penchant for impossible surprises. Carrying magic from myth to machine. Rallying the hope and hearts of a nation. You were a wise investment."

Anyway. Why is Viktor so threatened by his ability to feel "affection?" Every other goal aligns with a kind of supercharged version of Piltover's oppressive value system, but this one...not so much.

I guess you could say "civil society" frowns on explosive emotions like rage and hate because they threaten the docility of a healthy status quo. Compassion poses a similar threat. It makes sense for Viktor to fixate so hard on emotions when they're the only weapon powerful enough to snap him out of his Hexcore power trip. But I'm more drawn to the reading where Viktor recognizes queerness within himself (cough his love for Jayce cough) as another barrier on the road to perfection (as measured by the standards of an oligarchical regime).

It seems to me that Viktor's goals are all symptoms of a society steeped in ableism, classism, xenophobia, and queerphobia—but only three of those conditions manifest in Arcane's worldbuilding.

I dunno, man. What resonates with my queer experience will totally contradict someone else's. But I guess I can't envision an oligarchical system like Piltover's—a system founded on classism, ableism, and a weaponized fear of the dirty "other"—would somehow evade racism and queerphobia. Like..."We're fine with black people and gay people. But god help you if you're poor or sick or disabled or from Zaun!" Bigotry is irrational and contradictory, so there are surely examples of this pick-and-choose phenomenon outside of Arcane. And good lord, I don't think anyone should feel "obligated" to fill their fantasy worlds with homophobia! But Arcane definitely sparked enough cognitive dissonance in me to make me crank out some "what if this world was also homophobic" fanfic.

(There's also League of Legends' legacy as an alt-right cesspool. Before I even knew what an MMO was, I'd been warned about a game called LoL, the supposed "worst of the worst" when it came to voice chat culture. Not sure how I feel about that context yet.)