#which i get but. it's still frustrating to me-

[rafesweetie]

in which you’re forced into having a talk with your ex-boyfriend, rafe cameron, on the boat ride to morocco.

being a pogue and rafe cameron’s ex was not easy. although you dated shortly before he killed peterkin, and you were sure he barely even remembered your favourite colour, seeing him blatanly disrespect you and his friends, and go down a path you tried so hard to prevent him from, was hard to watch. but now he’s picked himself up since ward died. you thought you had another chance to at least be on good terms. sending flowers and a card to tanneyhill when ward died, smiling at him when you’d see him around. it didn’t work, he still hated you and your friends.

fortunately, he redeemed himself ever so slightly by volunteering to take the pogues to morocco. rafe had to find chandler groff, you guys wanted the blue crown. it was perfect.

until jj punched him, that is. he knocked him out cold. with a scolding “jj!” coming from majority of the pogues, including you, jj carries him down into the downstairs washroom and ties his wrists to a pole. they don’t trust him, which is fair. you don’t either — you shouldn’t, anyway.

rafe was down there quietly for a mere half hour until he woke up with a groan from his head hitting the ground earlier, followed up with yelling once he realizes he was stuck down there.

all touching your noses and saying ‘not it’ the minute pope suggests someone going down there to check on him, you’re the unlucky one who said it last. shutting up your protests, john b gently coaxes you downstairs, saying things like, “you used to mack on him”, “this is good, you know him”, “he won’t hurt you,” john b leaves you downstairs once you make it to the door of the bathroom. knocking gently, you timidly ask, “can i come in?”

there’s no answer. you can picture him. wrists tied, brows furrowed, eyes closed tightly as his head leans against the wall and towards the ceiling. his gorgeous stressed face. you slowly open the door, peeking your head in. “hi,” you say gently, timid around the scary and aggressive man you have the curse of calling your ex.

“…hey,” rafe says, voice rough as he shuts his eyes tight.

unsure what to say, you awkwardly stand there and stare down at him. “um, i brought asprin,”

“right, right, like i can fuckin’ swallow it. what, you gonna throw it in my mouth like a.. seal or something?” sassy, his upper lip lifts a bit as he thinks about it and isn’t very fond of the idea.

a second of silence as you figure out what to say. “…um, ill just set it down here,” you say, putting the container down beside him. “sorry about your head.”

“yeah, uh, your little boyfriend can’t control his fists, huh?”

“…not my boyfriend,” you correct softly, though you’re not sure why you feel the need to tell him that. “but no one really.. trusts you, rafe, so you kind of brought this on yourself—“

he quickly interrupts you. “bullshit. you know why that’s bullshit? because i was helping. who got you this boat, huh? me. i did. rafe. i’m the reason that you guys aren’t swimming, or some shit, to north africa. i’m being helpful and understanding, and this is what i get. you think that’s fair?” when you’re stood there in silence at his sudden raised voice, he repeats, “you think that’s fucking fair, y/n!?” he kicks a can in anger.

it’s like you’re his girlfriend again as you sit down next to him instantly instead of running. you get deja vu to the time three years ago when he was high on coke and got kicked out of the house. everyone ignored him except for you. “..um, okay, i’m gonna give you some asprin,” you say softly. “help your head. open,” you tell him, grabbing a pill as he gives you a look but opens his mouth. you pop it in his mouth and he dry swallows. “there.”

you two share a look. you don’t think it’s a bad look by any means. he looks frustrated still, but there’s an underlying gentleness in his eyes, as if he registers you’re still the same girl you were when you two were together. “…and, um, for the record, i don’t think it’s fair that you’re down here. you helped us, thats.. nice.”

the word ‘us’ when referring to you and the pogues makes him feel weird. “i don’t get why you hang out with them,” he mutters as he looks at the ground. “tried so fucking hard to keep you away from them when we were.. together.”

“i know,” you whisper, your gaze dropping as well, to his tied wrists. you feel awful. “trust me, your warnings still play in my head when i’m with them sometimes,”

“you remind me of sarah.” he says. you’re not sure what that means.

“you hate sarah,”

“nah, nah— i don’t hate her. hate who she’s turned into,” he adjusts himself. “she makes me sad. i’m sad for her, alright? she had so much potential.“ he shrugs. “but there’s no saving her. she’s in too deep,” he looks back up at you again. “i think there’s saving you, though,”

“…this is weird, rafe,”

“how?” he asks.

“because in the years we’ve been broken up, you’ve never talked to me about this. feels like it’s a… trick or something,”

“it’s not a trick,” he assures, voice still rough. “look, i’m out half a mill, i’m tied up in a bathroom, i’m probably gonna.. die or something. i got nothing to lose, may as well tell you my concern,”

“um, i appreciate it,” you say gently, unsure how to respond. “and i’m gonna go back upstairs.”

“hey— no, woah, woah, woah,” he stops you quickly. “stay. okay?”

“i should go up and help with dinner, though—“

“no, stay. i— i want you to stay, okay? i don’t wanna be down here alone, and i want you away from the pogues,”

he doesn’t wanna be alone. you feel bad for him all over again, nodding gently as you sit back down beside him. you always were so good for rafe.

you’re not sure how long you’ll be down here with him. maybe until it’s late at night and he’s asleep. so gently, after about five minutes of silence, to ease some of the tension and pass the time, you murmur a, “truth or dare?”

rafe just smiles.

[ssentimentals]

Hii can i request mingyu + hurt prompt #34? Thankssss

hi sweets! thank you for requesting, hopefully you will like it! 💜

hurt prompts: 'the things you said yesterday... did you mean them?'

someone is caressing your hand. it's a nice feeling to wake up, especially when you know who is responsible for said action. mingyu's face is the first thing you see when you open your eyes and you smile a little. mingyu doesn't smile back and memories of last night rush in, reminding you why you're waking beside him and not in his arms. before panic rises, you remind yourself that mingyu is caressing your hand gently now, so everything can't be that mad.

'morning,' you whisper, afraid to talk in a normal voice for some reason.

'morning.' mingyu repeats and clears his throat. 'slept well?'

you don't really remember how you fell asleep; probably knocked out from crying and fighting. arguments with mingyu were rare but whenever they did happen, they sucked all the energy out of you, leaving you drained and exhausted. truth to be told, you don't even remember coming to the bedroom, so mingyu probably carried you here once you fell asleep in the living room.

'not really,' you reply, not feeling rested at all. 'you?'

he shakes his head. when you first started dating, you both promised each other to never go to bed angry, so what happened last night is an exception of sorts. 'the things you said yesterday... did you mean them?' mingyu asks quietly, voice muffled by the pillow.

your mouth opens but nothing comes out. to your horror, you don't even remember about which things mingyu is talking exactly - a lot of stuff was said yesterday and not all of it was said due to anger or frustration. but mingyu is sensitive, always has been in a much more delicate headspace than you, so you tiptoe around the question, looking for the right answer while also staying honest: 'any of the mean and angry words - no. i love you, gyu, i'd never actually mean any of those. but what i said about the whole thing, like in the beginning, what made me upset in the first place.. yeah, i meant that. i stand by it even now.'

mingyu doesn't say anything at first. he just stares at your hands, chewing on his bottom lip, thinking about your answer. you both treasure honesty the most, so he knows you're being sincere. 'okay.' he settles for in the end, taking a deep breath. 'i also didn't mean everything i said after we moved from the kitchen to the living room.'

you smile and hesitantly interlace your fingers together. 'i know, gyu.'

he nods again and squeezes and when he does that, you feel like you can breathe again. if mingyu is not declining physical contact, if he's still here then you two can work it out. 'we don't have to do it now,' you say, not wanting to get up. 'we can just lay here for a while.'

sigh that mingyu lets out on this is full of relief. 'yes. yes- yeah. please.'

you both move in sync, slotting your bodies together until it's impossible to tell where one ends and another one begins. 'sleep a bit more for now,' mingyu whispers, holding you tight. 'i'll be here when you wake up.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[nightxcreature]

Do You Wanna Touch Me?

18+ ONLY

Summary: Part Two to Hotblooded, Reader can't help herself. She needs Dean anyway she can get him.

Warnings: Smut, Masturbation, Spice, Dirty Talk

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

A/N: wow. I did not expect that last one to get so much love and attention! Thank you all for being so kind! This is only my second ? time writing smut, so I hope it meets your expectations. I may keep this one going for at least one more part if you guys are interested. :) As always, comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated!

do not copy and share my work anywhere, you don't have permission.

I had been trying to fall asleep for hours now, and yet here I lay, half naked and clinging to a pillow for dear life. The ingredients in my drink from earlier were still running their course through my system and had left me panting at the mere thought of Dean. I’d rid myself of my T-shirt before Sam had even left my room, heat emanating from my body at a rapid pace. Sam had awkwardly averted his gaze before locking me in and reminding me that I should feel better after I rest. And yet even hours later, I feel like I’ll die if I don’t see Dean soon, speak to him, touch him…

                I groan as I shift to snag my phone from the nightstand, my hips rolling deliciously against the pillow below me. Feral thoughts of the hunter a few doors down rack my brain and I quickly pull up his contact before pressing the call button. His ringtone echoes down the hall from where I assume he is in the library before he answers.

                “Hey, Darlin’,” His voice alone causes my heart to race, a gasp leaving my lips, “Are you okay?”

                I shuffle to straddle the pillow below me as he speaks, the worry for me in his voice sending me into a frenzy, “No. I need you.” I practically cry into the speaker, “Need you so bad.”

                He sighs deeply and I can hear papers shuffling in the background, “You should be asleep, Sweetheart.”

                “Can’t sleep.” I mumble, rolling my hips against the pillow as he speaks, “Can only think about you. I don’t think I’ll think of anything else ever again.”

                “I’m trying to find something to help make it easier for you, I’m sorry.” He whispers, papers shuffling again, “I promise, it’s got to wear off eventually.”

                I let out a frustrated sound, my bottom lip jutting out as I whine, “I’m going to die in here! I’m going to die from needing you so bad and you wont even come in here to help me.”

                “I can’t come help you, Baby. It’s not you that’s asking for this.” He whispers and I can hear the frustration in his voice. One part of me is yelling for me to shut up, to hang up the phone and go to bed, try to somehow go to sleep and forget this ever happened…but the other part of me is ravenous, feral for the man on the other end of the line, and she is not going to lose this battle without a fight.

                “It’s your job to help people, Dean.” I cry out, a low blow I know, but the desperation coursing through my veins won’t let up, “Are you really going to leave me here like this?”

                “Don’t do that.” He growls out, “I told you before that we could talk about this when you’re not drunk off some god-level fuck juice. I want to talk about this. I do want to help you, but I won’t go in that room.”

                His take-no-shit tone goes straight to my core, which I know is the exact opposite of what he’s looking for, but I can’t stop imagining the firm look on his face as he scolds me. My hips roll quicker, a ravenous feeling overtaking my thoughts, “Please keep talking.” I whisper as my eyes close. I hear his breathing hitch, but he doesn’t speak for a moment, and I bite my lip nervously. Did I make him upset? I don’t think I can live with myself if he’s upset with me, “I’m sorry, I didn’t-.”

                “Don’t apologize.” He cuts me off quickly, “What are you doing?”

                Embarrassment should flood my system, but the idea of being caught getting off to his voice just spurs me on. I lift off the pillow to roll my shorts down my legs and then position myself over it again, “What do you think I’m doing?” I whisper seductively into the speaker. Hoping, practically praying, that he knows and he’ll throw whatever righteousness he has left out the window to come help me reach my goal. Sweat pours down my forehead and a heaviness sits in my hips, I rut against the pillow again to try and alleviate the feeling, a small moan leaving my lips as I do.

                The rough sound of his chair sliding across the library floor and his heavy boots thudding as he walks stills me. I sit with bated breath listening to the sound through the phone, waiting to hear him outside my door, “Where are you going?”

                I hear him chuckle quietly before his voice finally graces my ear again, “Where do you think I’m going?” I hear his boots come to a stop, but no sound comes from the hallway in front of my room.

                I groan in frustration, rutting against the pillow isn’t bringing the amount of relief that my body needs and the thought of Dean not being here to help me brings a sinking feeling in my stomach, “Where are you?”

                A door clicks closed on his end before he speaks, “What are you wearing?” He whispers gruffly, sending a shock to my core. I stay quiet for a moment before he whispers a bit softer, “You told me to keep talking. I won’t come in that room with you, but I am going to help you. Now, what are you wearing?”

                Though he can’t see me, I nod quickly and glance down to my torso. Thankful for the black lace panty set cladding my body so I don’t have to lie…I don’t think I could lie to him right now, “My underwear.” I whisper, holding my breath while I wait for him to speak again, “It’s black and lacy and I think you’d really like it.”

                He groans quietly and I can hear him lay down on what I assume is his own bed, “I’d like to see that.”

                “Come here and you can.” My breathing is heavy, anticipation building throughout me as I beg him, “Please.”

                “Please? You gonna beg me, Sweetheart?” He whispers lowly, the teasing tone spurs me on and I roll my hips against the pillow again, moaning louder as I do. I hear him suck in a breath before he continues, “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“Touch me. Please, touch me.” I cry out, “I need you all over me.”

                He chuckles darkly, “I can’t right now, can I? But, you can.”

 At his words my hips stutter, I glance down at the pillow as I slide back toward my headboard, “You want me to…”

“Touch yourself, Baby. Where do you want my hands?” His voice is low as he instructs me and I dust the hand not holding my phone across my chest as I listen to his breathing, “Where do you want me to touch you?”

 “Everywhere. My chest, my legs, my….” I gasp as my fingertips rub over my clothed nipples; eyes still closed, I imagine his fingers being the ones ghosting across my frame.

I can practically hear the smile on his face when he speaks again, his voice quiet and heavy, “Yeah, I wanna touch you there, too. I can’t stop thinking about the things I want to do to you.”

“What else do you want to do to me?” I whisper, my hands making their way down my body at a slow pace. I play with the hem of my panties, imagining it’s his thick fingers there teasing me as he speaks slowly into my ear.

“I wanna spend all day between your legs, Baby. Wanna fuck you so good, you forget your name.” He whispers huskily, his breathing is heavier and I almost cum at the thought that he must be touching himself, too. I slide my hand into my panties and moan breathlessly at the feeling of relief that rushes my system. I circle my fingers around my opening, brushing my fingertips over the bud at the apex every so often

                “You drive me crazy,” I groan, throwing my head back against the headboard as I picture his face between my thighs and all the filthy noises he would be making while he eats me, “I need more. You make me so wet.”

                He curses into the speaker and I can hear his breathing quicken, “Take off your clothes.” The harshness in his voice causes my eyes to snap open and rushes me to strip bare faster than I ever have. I remain quiet as I lay alone, listening to his rapid breathing on the other end of the line, “You want me to fuck you, Baby?”

                I nod dumbly before realizing that he still can’t see me and quickly recover, “Yes.”

                “I want you on your hands and knees. Arch your back and touch yourself.” I nod again, rolling quickly to my hands and knees to do as he asks, “I can’t see you, Sweetheart. Are you listening to me?”

                “Yes, Sir.” I mumble as I rush to put the phone on speaker and roll my hips against my fingers, “I’m listening.”

                “Good girl.” He replies, chuckling as I moan at the name, “You like that?”

                “Yes. I love that.” I pant, rubbing faster against the bundle nerves between my thighs. My eyes roll back at the feeling and I try my best to focus on Dean’s voice as he continues to talk me through this.

                “All those little sounds your making are getting me so hard, Darlin’. I can’t stop thinking about how good you must feel, about how good I’d make you feel.” His husky whispers sends my imagination into overdrive as I raise up to sit on my heels. A single finger sinks into me and I moan out at the relief, “I’ve been thinking about being inside you all day. Whatever you want me to do to you, I’d do it. I want to be so deep inside you.”

                My eyes roll at his words, my breathing becoming heavier and I barely hear him when he asks, “You close, Sweetheart? Want me to make you cum?” The teasing lilt in his voice urging my hands to move quicker, my fingers rushing in and out of my opening like lightening. My toes curl and my vision goes blurry as the orgasm crashes into me suddenly. His name leaves my lips like a prayer as I come down and I hear him grunt, whispering my name quietly against the phone speaker.

                My breathing is heavy when I finally speak, “Thank you.”

                He chuckles awkwardly and I can imagine the way a blush covers his cheeks when he replies, “No need to thank me, Darlin’. I think I got just as much out of this as you did.”

                I laugh a little in response, feeling the hint of a blush rising in my own cheeks. The relief I feel is insurmountable and I can feel exhaustion taking over my body in exchange for the rabid horniness from earlier. “Do you think this is over? The potion, I mean.” I ask, waiting for the intense feeling of want to return.

                “Guess we’ll have to wait and see.” He mumbles, “If you need me again though, just call.”

                “Will do.” I reply, “We do have a lot to talk about when I’m feeling better though…”

                He laughs nervously before trying to hide it as a cough before agreeing, “Yeah, uh, we do.”

                “I’ll see you after my nap, Dean.” I answer with a slight smile, “And then we can see just how quickly I forget my name.”

                He snorts and I can hear the smirk in his voice, “Set a timer, Sweetheart, it won’t take long.”

______________________________________________________________

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[dokkywokky]

“I’m sorry, the *gay man* I just burned and beheaded for you?” I shot back, pointing at the still corpse on the ground. “Do you know how difficult it is to saw a neck off with a fucking farm tool!? Very hard! Very, very—“

“I’m sorry, wait.” Death rubbed their stony temples with their stony fingers. “You think, and let me get this straight. You think this is okay because he was dating a man?”

“I don’t—“ I sputtered. The candles in the basement flickered unevenly, wet stones echoing our voices. “What!? No! You implied that him being straight was a problem! He’s not!”

I could hear granite sliding as Death frowned. They took in a deep breath like wind in a crypt, considered for a moment what to say, and then merely bent down and grasped his hands. Reverently, they pulled rings from each of them, pinching them between forefinger and thumb. The warm flamelight dyed them—one silvery amber, one fiery gold.

“He was bisexual.” Death strained, expression tight with frustration. “And polyamorous. Even if I’d have condoned the murder—which, by the way, absolutely not. Adopted children are still children—did you not think to check the rings?”

I looked down at the head in the summoning circle. Then to Death. Then to the body. Then to Death again. Then the floor, my hand rubbing against my chin.

“You raise a compelling point.”

“Oh, *do* I?”

I winced. “Surely there’s not a way to pay this back?”

“What part of death,” they asked, “did you think was revocable?”

I thought for a while longer, shifting my weight uncomfortably onto the other foot.

“Can I pick a better offering next time, at least?”

“Get the fuck out of my sight before I kill you myself.”

“Right. Sorry. Yes. Um.”

“Go!”

“Yes! Yes! Sorry! Yes!” I yelped, scrambling up the steps of my home. As I reached the top, I paused, hovering at the precipice as the slow draft lapped at the hem of my robes.

“Um. Death?”

A voice echoed from below. “What is it now!?”

“Where did he, you know, end up?”

The voice came from right behind my ear, heavy with lethal, quiet rage.

“Not where you’ll be going when I see you next.”

When I turned around, they were gone, leaving only an empty wall occupied by my bookshelf and clock.

“I see,” I mumbled, skin colder than it had been a few moments ago. “That would have been good to know earlier. Thank you.”

The avatar of death looked down with frustration. "A sacrifice? That man was meant to have children, as were his children, and theirs, all who would end up in my realm when they died of NATURAL causes. Do you see what you've done?"

[sandwitchstories]

5 More Minutes

I had this image in my head of Mouse in Sukuna's haori. And then this little drabble happened.

For more adventures with Mouse, check out my Dad!Sukuna Series on my AO3 - Here! )

Author's Note: For anyone new to my Dad!Sukuna Series, Mouse is Sukuna's, currently, 2 year old daughter with reader.

Summary: Sukuna's favorite haori has disappeared. It can't just grow legs and disappear. Or can it?

WC: 600+

CW: reader is referred to as 'Mama' but not described, toddler dad Sukuna, girl dad!sukuna, true form Sukuna (4 arms), it's pretty much just plain Dilf Sukuna fluff and crack, SFW in every way, just family fluff, father and daughter fluff, writing them together gives me life

Sukuna gave a frustrated huff as he walked around his estate in search of his black haori. He had somewhere to be and he was not happy to have his departure delayed. He still needed to say goodbye to you and the brat. Which was never a short ordeal between your ��one more kiss’ and Mouse’s ‘now me!’

You had been the first place he checked. You had a tendency to steal his clothing no matter how big it was on you. You had a litany of excuses for this behavior. However, today you were not the culprit.

He headed into your shared room to see if maybe he had left it in there, though he could swear he had grabbed it that morning. It wasn’t like the damn thing could grow legs… or could it? 

He went straight to your bed, looking down with his hands on his hips. It had indeed grown legs.

Two tiny legs attached to one very troublesome little girl. 

Mouse laid curled up in your bed, sound asleep, wrapped in his haori. Tsk. While it was indeed cute, it was also very annoying. Sukuna leaned forward and pulled at the material, trying to tug it out from under Mouse. She growled and rolled so it was tighter around her. He used a hand to gently start to roll her and try to retrieve his item. 

She cracked her eyes open and gave him your look of instant death. “What doing, Papa?”

“I am taking back my haori, Mouse. I have somewhere to be,” he said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.

She regarded him for a moment before turning her head and closing her eyes again. “5 more minutes, Papa. Please and thank you.”

“No more minutes, Mouse,” he said firmly, starting to pull on the material again.

“Don’t do it, Papa,” she said in a sleepy but grumpy tone.

“Or what?” he challenged her.

“I bite you, Papa.”

He guffawed at her. “You’ll bite me?”

“Yes, Papa.”

Her audacity knew no bounds. “Well, if you bite me I’ll bite you back. And I bite harder and have sharper teeth. Now, give me my haori.”

“But I comfortable, Papa…” she whined, rolling onto her back to rub her eyes and look up at him. “Why need it, Papa?”

“I already told you, I have somewhere I need to go,” he said, picking her up with one arm and taking his haori back with the other, ignoring her protests. “You can have it back when I get home.”

“But, Papa… I don’t want you to go,” her lip started to tremble.

“Well, tough shit, little one,” he said, laying her back down on the bed. He pulled the blanket up around her and rubbed her back. “Go back to sleep, Mouse. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Papa?”

“Yes, Mouse?”

“You bring back something tasty for Papa and Mouse?” she asked, eyes already fluttering closed.

He grinned. “I promise.”

“And I get it back when you get home?” she asked, reaching out her hand to sleepily play with the edge of the haori laying on the bed. 

“Yes, Mouse, you can have it back when I get home if that will please you,” he chuckled. “Now, I need to go.”

“Okay, Papa,” she said, a pout on her face making her chubby cheeks even more prominent. 

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead before pulling back to leave. She caught his face between her hands and cracked open one eye. “One more kiss.” 

He gave her one more kiss and started to stand. He grunted as you managed to startle him as you wrapped your arms around him from behind. He glanced over his shoulder at you with an arched eyebrow.

You grinned up at him and said, “Now me!”

He was never getting out of there, was he? 

________________________________________

Author's Note: Sukuna was only that nice about his haori because she was asleep. One time, you and Mouse rolled up like a burrito in it. He grabbed on to the edge and gave it a yank, a huge smile on his face as he watched the two of you go flying across the bed. It's his brand of cuteness aggression.

[yoinkschief]

Strip/Mafia Tord if his scarring was more realistic,,, honestly I really need to keep it more realistic, I only simplified it so much to one color for ease of comic drawing yk but I like seeing him like this

And as much as I love him missing an eye,,, I think I'll keep him still having an eye and it just being blind

This is also me playing around with Gradient Maps so if the colors look off that's why lol

[angellwingss]

Wasn’t going to go on a big rant but you know what since that other post is gaining traction yeah I think I will. So big long rant under the cut. Lolll

I feel like. A lot of people might tell me ‘it’s not that deep’ but to me it is that deep.

I don’t have a problem with JayVik or it’s shippers like. At all. I just think some of them are à really good demonstration of like. Every bad thing when it comes to fandom ever LMAO.

Once again I am (supposed to be) writing a whole big long essay about this already so I will try and keep this kind of short and sweet and it might be a bit lacking but wtvr.

I think a lot of JayVik fans tend to be white queer people. Someone left a tag on my OG post that said basically ‘my take is I’m a faggot and I don’t have to care about a character if I don’t want to’ and no hate to that person cuz you’re right, but this is exactly the kind of stuff that made me make that first post.

I feel like a lot of white queer people have an issue with seeing outside their own identity? If that makes sense? This is seen time and time again with the way some of them behave when big movements happen online, some have a tendency to centre themselves and whatnot so i think it’s kind of the same thing.

It makes total sense that a queer person would prefer queer ships and would prefer JayVik over MelJay, that is not a crime. But I do think part of that is because they can’t relate/identify with Mel or see themselves in her like they can with Jayce or Viktor.

I hate to also make it about feminism but i think a lot of you guys are super like. Male centred, like just in your attraction which once again, not the issue not a crime. But i think it’s also why CaitVi, which is a canon queer ship, although popular is still not quite as popular as JayVik despite being canon. Women fetishizing gay men in fandom is not something new, which I think might play a small part in it- I’ve seen a lot of people especially back in s1 infantilizing Viktor and acting like he had no agency or independence and that he NEEDS Jayce to take care of him (that’s another thing. Ableism(looks at you with my eyes)) and they also do the same thing with Jayce where they act like he had 0 agency with any decisions he makes and that he’s like a big dumb baby who doesn’t know anything politics. Hey, guys. That’s a grown man.

My main issue isn’t that people prefer JayVik over MelJay it’s just that some shippers demonize Mel to an insane degree, blame her for getting in the way of their ship (this is also happening right now with Maddie- there’s a leak going around saying that she gets with Caitlyn and people are so upset that this character is getting some INSANE hate and I feel like that’s the same thing going on.)

they blame her for ‘stealing’ Jayce etc etc like. Idk. You don’t have to ship MelJay but I wish more people would appreciate Mel just as a character- imo she is super interesting and has a great story but she’s only ever seen and ‘the other woman’. I’ve seen people say she isn’t like, well characterized and that her story entirely revolves around Jayce which. Yeah she’s definitely heavily involved with him in s1 but she’s clearly got a lot more going on than just that and you would know that if you GAF 🗣️🗣️

for just being. Who she is. I think Mel deserves more attention just in the fandom and it’s just frustrating. People making memes about Jayce going insane over Viktor leaving but like. Mel also just got fucking kidnapped guys. His lover has just vanished without a trace why is nobody also talking about that !!!! Why can’t he care about both these people at the same time !!!!!!!

Anyway I’m not nearly well equipped enough to talk more in-depth about like. Any of this but I do think the demonization of Mel and refusal to see her relationship with Jayce as it is can often times be boiled down to racism like straight up. And also things like the fetishization of gay men in fandom and just things like that are sometimes what can lead to female characters- even the well written ones to be shelved and pushed aside in favour of their male counterparts.

Obligatory ‘not all JayVik fans’ obviously a lot of you are awesome, shouldn’t have to say this. If I’m not aiming for you, you shouldn’t be getting shot.

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 29 - Fatigue, “Who said you could rest?”

CONTINUATION TO DAY 23 more Warriors and Legend (and the dragon) time!

Lordy this got so long. SO. LONG. it was never supposed to be this long and that's probably why it took so long to write 😔 but I hope y'all enjoy this monster, I had a lot of fun with it :) And also LOOK AT THIS COOL ART it was one of the things that got me to finally finish this and inspired a good bit of it XD Thank you so much for the awesome art Maeson!!

Warnings: same as 23, whipping, animal abuse, arguably torture... bad times. A little nonconsensual touching, but nothing extreme.

Ao3 link

Day 23

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They’d been stuck here for days now, and Warriors was beyond frustrated.

Whenever the troupe’s wagons stopped, Legend was dragged out of his tank, his legs trembling underneath him from the prolonged time with a tail, and pulled outside somewhere to run through tricks or... something. Legend didn’t talk about it much. Half the time he couldn’t he was so exhausted from being beaten up at the slightest misstep, intentional or not.

Apparently their captors weren’t due to reach another town for a good week or two, so it didn’t matter that Legend had a split lip and a cut on his cheek. Those and the other small bruises on his face would heal before any customers saw him. As for the whip marks on his back, well, some scars made him seem more dramatic.

That’s what the horrible woman in charge had said anyway, and Legend had nearly bitten her hand in response.

Warriors had noticed his responses were growing more feral the longer he spent with a tail, growling when he was angry, warbling more when he talked, taking longer and longer to adjust to legs. Warriors tried to talk with him whenever they were together, and regular conversation seemed to help, but Legend was still struggling.

And Warriors still didn’t know how to get them all out.

He set his head against the bars of his cage again, watching a small spot of moonlight creep across the floor. It was nice that they’d parked the wagon so the window faced the moon for once. Usually all Warriors had to look at was either Legend or the baby dragon’s glowing eyes, which, while interesting, weren’t quite as good as natural light. And he was already feeling lethargic from the lack of natural light.

The baby dragon himself was snoring softly on Warriors’ lap, head tucked against his arm, and Warriors ran an idle hand over his scales, watching as they shimmered just a little at the touch.

Legend’s guess was that he was some kind of forest dragon, based on the colors and the fact that he’d never shown the slightest propensity for breathing fire. Warriors didn’t have any clue himself, but that felt right, and would explain the faint hint of trees and leaves he thought he smelled sometimes.

He really didn’t know much about dragons though. It was a little embarrassing.

At least Legend didn’t know all that much either— he’d pretty much only met the monstrous kind.

The dragon shifted a little at Warriors’ touch, and slitted open sleepy green eyes, blinking up at him. Warriors blinked back, and the dragon yawned and shifted around, snuggling up tighter against him.

“Ink?” he chirped, and Warriors shushed him, looking over at Legend. Legend was deeply asleep though, exhausted from his daily attempts at resistance, and he didn’t move.

“Go back to sleep, it’s not morning yet,” Warriors said quietly, but instead of curling back up, the dragon’s eyes opened wider, and he sat up, looking at Warriors and cocking his head to the side.

“Ink? A-rik?” he chirped, and Warriors paused, not having heard that last word from him before. The dragon’s vocabulary had been pretty much limited to ‘ma’ and ‘ink’ before now.

“...Arik?” Warriors questioned, and the dragon’s ears pricked, his face lighting up in the only way a dragon’s could.

“A-rik!” he chirped excitedly, hopping around on Warriors’ leg. “A-rik A-rik! A-riiik!”

“I don’t know what that means,” Warriors said with a frown, and the dragon excitedly chirped the word several more times. “Is... wait, is your name Arik?” Warriors asked, and the dragon preened.

“A-RIK!”

Legend stirred a bit at the shout, but he settled down again as Warriors shushed the dragon. Or Arik, he supposed. It sounded like a name, and just calling him ‘the dragon’ had gotten a little old.

“So, Arik is your name then?” Warriors asked in amusement, and the dragon trilled.

“A-rik! A-rik!” Arik chattered loudly, and Warriors couldn’t help his smile as he set a calming hand on his head.

“Okay okay, it’s sleepy time Arik, settle down,” Warriors whispered, and the dragon chirped again, snuggling up to Warriors. He happily blinked up at him as his eyes began to droop, and a content little sigh came from him as his eyes finally closed.

Warriors smiled and slid down to the hard floor, deciding to try and sleep the last few hours before dawn. He looked up at the ceiling, and his amusement at the dragon’s antics faded as he watched moonlight glint off the bars. Unease churned in his gut at the upcoming day, worry and dread mixing into an uncomfortable lump.

He’d spent all of his time in the cage so far, but he had a feeling that was going to change soon. The woman had been taking greater interest in him and the dragon lately, and he knew it would be their turn soon enough.

After all, they had tricks to learn.

Warriors breathed out, and closed his eyes. There was no use worrying about it right now. He would get some sleep, and reevaluate tomorrow.

The same thing he’d been telling himself every night he’d spent in this place.

(...)

Warriors woke up to frantic screeching.

He jerked upright and banged his head on the ceiling, adrenaline shooting through his veins. The warm weight was gone from his lap, Legend was growling, and Warriors whirled towards the cage door, stomach dropping as he saw the dragon being dragged out, his tiny claws scratching the floor.

“Ink!” he wailed, and Warriors dove for him, moments too late as the dragon was yanked out and the door slammed shut.

Warriors threw his weight against the bars, but the door didn’t budge, and he could only watch as Arik was bundled into a tiny cage with a loop for carrying on top.

“Leave him alone,” Warriors snarled, but the man ignored him, slamming the tiny door shut. Warriors clenched the bars so tightly it hurt.

“Wow, you really did get attached to it,” a familiar voice said, and the woman appeared, a hand on her hip. Warriors glared as Legend’s fins flared aggressively, and she waved a dismissive hand. “Oh relax, we won’t hurt it. So long as you all do what I want.”

“Which would be?” Warriors growled.

She smiled. “To learn your act. I’ve been debating about what to do with you while we’ve been training the merman, and I think I’ve figured it out. It’ll be a real show for the audience, I’m sure the crowds will turn out in droves.”

The mere thought made Warriors’ skin crawl, and he crossed his arms. The woman raised an eyebrow, and set a hand on the cage where the dragon was.

“And I’m sure you know what’ll happen if you refuse,” she said, and her voice turned threatening. “Mer scales would sell for quite a bit, no less ones from a dragon.”

Arik chirped in distress, the same noise Warriors had first heard from him, and he breathed out a hiss.

“Good,” the woman said as his shoulders lowered from their aggressive position. “Perhaps you won’t take as long to learn as your friend.”

Legend glared at her through slitted eyes, but he didn’t move from his place at the bottom of the tank. As much as Warriors hated that it was his turn, he was also relieved Legend would get a break. Maybe he could take the time to recover, and be able to put up more of a fight again. And they could both get out.

The door to his cage was pulled open, and the woman jabbed a thumb backwards, motioning for him to come out.

“Come on. And don’t try anything, or it won’t be pleasant for this one,” she said as she patted the dragon cage. Warriors silently scooted out, fury boiling under his skin as he stood up straight for the first time in days. He let them tie his hands behind his back without a fight, though he couldn’t help his flinch when a collar got pulled out. He forced himself to keep still though, the woman’s threat hanging over his head like a dark cloud, and she smiled as it was fastened around his neck.

“Lovely. It took us a good hour or two to get one on your friend, and it really completes the look. Come on,” she gestured, and one of her burly assistants shoved Warriors forward.

He nearly tripped, but followed without complaint, still fuming. He could stand humiliation. He would stand it, for Legend and the little dragon’s sakes.

This was an opportunity for reconnaissance, or even escape. Warriors had gotten nowhere with any of the plans he’d been working on, and being out of the cage was exactly what he needed. He glanced back before they left the small room, and met Legend’s eyes, tired and worried. Warriors sent him a cocky smirk he didn’t feel in the slightest, and Legend’s mouth twitched upwards just a little.

Then he was pulled out, and Legend was blocked off by the door slamming shut.

After days in near-darkness, the bright sun hurt Warriors’ eyes, but the warmth of it on his skin more than made up for it. He’d always felt better with some sunshine, and though Warriors was still tense and angry, he relaxed a bit. Sure he couldn’t see very well for the first little while of the trip, and the burly man had to keep shoving him along in the right direction, but at least he was outside.

Warriors’ eyes eventually adjusted, and he began to take in the sights. The rest of the place wasn’t much to look at honestly, at least the section he was in. A couple bright wagons parked in the grass, some people cooking food who leered and stared at him as he was shoved past. The town he and Legend has been in with the others was long gone, and Warriors saw nothing past the wagons but grass and open plains.

Are the others going to be able to catch up to us? Surely they’ll put together what happened, but who knows how long it’ll take, and they’re almost all on foot...

Warriors swallowed. He’d been betting on eventual backup.

A hand harshly cuffed his ear as he tried to peer around a corner, and after that Warriors kept his head down. But he still took in every detail he possibly could. He noted who had weapons and who didn’t, which people ignored him and which ones jeered, any small bit of information that could help.

And between it all, he kept an eye on the cage held in the woman’s hand, blood boiling whenever he heard a growl or whimper from inside.

They finally reached a large tent, a bit more sturdy looking with actual walls Warriors guessed could be collapsed to transport. He got shoved inside, and blinked as his eyes had to adjust to another change in light.

He almost wished they hadn’t. The mat on the floor in front of him had stains of what was unmistakably blood.

“I know a dancer’s body when I see one,” the woman began as she strode past him and into the middle of the tent, gesturing for her lackey to untie his hands. There were several other people inside this area practicing a few things, and Warriors recognized them from when he and Legend had been captured. “That along with your pretty face and the dragon, and we’ll have people lined up for miles to come see you.”

“You... want me to dance?” Warriors said in surprise, a little of the knot in his stomach loosening. He wasn’t the world’s greatest dancer or anything, but he could certainly manage. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

“I want you and the dragon to dance,” she corrected, and snapped her fingers.

The man she’d brought with her opened the cage where Arik was, but before he could leap out, the man snatched him, and quickly bundled something over his face. A muzzle.

Warriors’ jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything, merely caught Arik when the man abruptly lobbed him over. Arik made a whimpering noise as he clung to his shoulder, and Warriors ran a quick couple fingers along his scales.

“I know, it’s okay,” he murmured under his breath, and the dragon pressed himself against him with a shiver. He wondered how many times Arik had already gone through something like this.

Probably too many.

“Now,” the woman said, smoothing a bit of the mat with her boot, “I have a specific dance in mind for you and the dragon. So long as you can do what you’re told, and get the dragon to behave, we’ll all get along here just fine.”

Arik hissed through the muzzle, and Warriors stayed silent.

“Your dance is about dragons, harmony, mystique, things that always draw people in. Fire, swords, spectacle. If you wow the crowd, intrigue them, they’ll always want to come back,” she continued, and smiled at him. “Take off your shirt.”

Warriors froze. “Excuse me?”

“Take off your shirt,” she said coolly, and when Warriors didn’t move, tapped an impatient finger. “Come on. Or I’m going to start plucking scales.”

Warriors glared at her, heart in his throat, but when she began to move closer he did as she said and pulled his shirt over his head. Arik slipped down to cling to his leg while he tugged it off, and Warriors hated the way his hands shook despite his best efforts to still them. The air felt cold on his bare skin, and Warriors forced himself not to wrap his arms around his middle.

He could feel everyone in the tent’s eyes on him, staring at his bare chest, and Arik hissed again.

You’re doing it for Legend you’re doing it for the dragon she’s just trying to make you uncomfortable—

“Not even a few scales?” the woman said disappointedly, raking her eyes across him. “People are going to expect scales from a half dragon...well, we can work with the scars at least. Maybe have some makeup done to make you look more exotic. But that can come later,” she said with a clap, her smile growing wider. “Let’s get started.”

Her whip suddenly cracked across his back, and Warriors gasped in shock at the sudden pain. She did it again, and Arik fled to Warriors’ arm as he stumbled, letting out a shriek of alarm.

“That was just a taste,” the woman said calmly, Warriors staring at her as his shoulder throbbed. “You do what I say, and I won’t need this at all. It’s your choice. Now let’s get to work, honey.”

Arik rushed back up to Warriors’ neck as she spoke, pressing tighter against him. His scales were cool against his skin, but not in a bad way, and Warriors glared quietly at the woman as the dragon trembled.

But he knew he was stuck.

The last thing Warriors wanted to do was learn any kind of act, and try to get a tiny dragon to go along with it, especially in front of these people. But he didn’t have a choice. If it was just himself at stake he’d fight against it with everything he had, but he wasn’t alone.

And Legend or the dragon being hurt wasn’t an option.

So Warriors lowered his head, ignored the smirking grins and eyes leering at him, and nodded.

(...)

It didn't get better from there.

After Warriors’ first training session he could barely walk, his shoulders shredded and muscles beyond sore. The entire thing had been brutal, and that was with Warriors attempting to cooperate. He knew now exactly why Legend had been so worn down whenever he returned.

Warriors may not have been a bad dancer, but the moves he was supposed to be learning were nearly impossible in most cases, and the woman demanded nothing less than perfection. If he didn’t get a step right on the first try the whip immediately came down, and he was expected to keep moving no matter how painful it was. A significant portion of his torso had been coated with blood by the time it was over, and the only thing he'd had in regard to treatment had been having a bucket of cold water dumped over him to wash it off.

At least he knew why she’d wanted his shirt off now.

Poor Arik avoided the whip at least, too small to be an effective target, but he was obviously terrified, and getting him to do what the woman wanted was nearly impossible, even with Warriors there. The tiny dragon didn’t do anything except cling to his arm, and occasionally growl at anyone who came too close, spikes raised threateningly. Along with the gouges that had been torn into Warriors’ shoulders from the whip, there were small claw scratches marring a good portion of his arms.

Warriors hated it, but he did his best to coax Arik along with the routine they were supposed to be learning. He barely succeeded. Legend had been right with his initial observation— Arik was a baby, and terrified on top of that. It was a miracle Warriors was able to get him to do anything.

Warriors couldn’t explain to Arik that it would be better if he just tried to go along with it. He couldn’t reason with him barely at all. All he could really do was try to make the woman take out her frustration on him rather than the little dragon when he messed up.

Which she did. Quite often.

Warriors and Legend began being taken out of their cages on alternating days, though sometimes when they stopped for longer one of them was taken in the morning and the other the afternoon. The longer they were there the worse the training seemed to get, and Warriors was at a loss of what else he could do.

The woman at least seemed to recognize she could only hit both him and Legend so much before they truly couldn’t move, but she wasn’t shy about other methods of abuse. She realized Warriors hated taking his shirt off, and made him do it every time he practiced, often with an audience. If one or the both of them messed up particularly bad, they weren’t fed anything, and more than once Warriors was kept up by Arik’s tiny stomach growling, and his sad mewls for food.

Even worse, a couple times the woman had actually gone through with her threat and plucked some scales from both Legend and the dragon, all while Warriors watched.

Legend had actually managed to bite her that time, which only got him several more scales yanked from his tail, but despite the blood dripping from his tail, he said later to Warriors that it had been more than worth it.

The woman had also been pressing Warriors about any dragon skills he had, and Warriors struggled with how much to tell her. Sure he couldn't do all that much, but he didn’t want to admit to anything. And a few things were unavoidable with Legend and a baby dragon on the line. But was it okay to admit he had night vision? Or would that only make escape harder?

He didn’t know.

But the woman had gotten a couple things out of him, and he started coming back with singed hair from her attempts to figure out exactly how fireproof he was.

Their situation was getting unbearable, Warriors and Legend both hit and beaten and treated like less than human on the daily, and it was wearing on them both, any escape attempts immediately shut down, any plans ground into the dirt.

Warriors had one idea left.

And if it didn’t work...

He wasn’t letting himself think about it. It would work.

But he couldn’t put it into effect until he and Legend performed, so Warriors did his best to keep his head down, preserve his strength, and try not to worry as Legend spent more and more time curled up and silent, and Arik’s happy chirps grew less frequent, both of their scales growing dull.

But finally the moment came.

One day the wagon never stopped, trundling along much longer than it usually did. Warriors' heart beat faster when he heard some shouts outside, and he realized they'd finally reached the town they were due to perform at. He rapidly went over his cobbled-together plan with Legend, and they built as many backup ideas as they possibly could into the idea.

Soon enough the wagon was stopped and the doors were open, and he and Legend were both were pulled out of their respective cages, Arik shoved in his own tiny one. Legend’s tail split back into legs again as he was dropped on the floor, and he collapsed when he couldn't hold his own weight.

Warriors tried to go over to him, but the usual group of burly assistants held him tight, dragging both him and Legend out. The only thing Warriors managed to do was brush against Legend’s shoulder, and Legend only flinched at the touch.

Probably because the only human contact he’d had for the past week and a half was in order to inflict pain on him.

They were both dragged out into the night, the moonlight mixing with that of the torches scattered around. Warriors heard the loud chatter of people, saw lights from a town nearby, and he craned his neck, trying to see any of the crowd he could hear. But he was bundled away too quickly, and soon enough he and Legend were hurried off into two small separate tents, Arik's cage dropped to the ground with Warriors.

Inside, Warriors was descended upon by a small mob, clothes shoved at him and makeup painted on his face, unfamiliar hands sprucing up and making adjustments and touching him all over. He briefly considered making a run for it, but Arik was still stuck in his cage, and he didn’t know where Legend had gone.

So he sat there and took it, even though he was really, really tempted to scream.

Warriors caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror as he was fussed over, and blinked, shimmering scales painted onto his cheeks, his hair ruffled just enough to make him look a bit wild. It... made him look a bit like his father, actually.

Huh.

Warriors didn’t have time to dwell on it though, as he was tugged back over and given finishing touches. He was just grateful the outfit he had on included a shirt, even if it was a thin, silky material.

His scarf was wrapped tastefully around his waist, and before he knew what was happening, he’d been shoved into a small waiting area, and the woman was reminding him of the cues they’d practiced.

“And don’t try anything,” she added, eyes narrowed. “I’ve got my men posted everywhere. If you so much as twitch towards the exit, I’ll know.”

“Yes ma’am,” Warriors muttered.

She nodded, and then went through the tent flap, cheers coming from the other side. Arik’s cage had been set beside Warriors, and he quickly unlocked it while he waited, the dragon leaping onto his shoulders in one huge jump.

“Hope you’re ready little guy,” Warriors said, and Arik let out a soft chirp, pressing his head against Warriors’ chin.

He heard the sound of splashing and gasps, then uproarious cheers, and assumed Legend was currently doing his act. The urge to charge out there and stop it all was strong, but Warriors waited, his plan pulsing in the back of his mind. It was messy, and had so many little things that could go wrong with it, but it was all Warriors had.

And it all rested on the prop sword currently in his hands.

Warriors twirled it nervously, testing the weight of the criminally dulled blade while Arik paced anxiously around his shoulders. A chime rang out, and the music outside changed, the cheers and applause growing dying down. Here we go.

“A deadly dance of sword and beast, I give you...”

Warriors clutched his fake sword, and stepped out through the flap of the tent and into the light.

“...the dragon man!”

Gasps and oohs went through the audience as he stepped out, excited faces and fingers pointing at him and the dragon perched on his shoulder. Warriors took a deep breath, ignoring the eyes fixed on him as he gave the room a quick scan, and saw Legend in a tank in the corner, tail lazily flicking.

Warriors let out a small sigh of relief, and began to dance.

He moved through forms similar to fighting, twirling his sword in a careful dance as music swirled through the air. Arik wove around his arms and shoulders with a whispered instruction, and the crowd oohed again as his scales shimmered in the light.

The moves pulled on still-healing injuries, and muscles that had been pushed too far. Keeping the smile fixed on his face was a challenge in and of itself, but Warriors was good at keeping his emotions close to his chest. Even if so much as spreading his arms out was close to torture.

The music slightly changed pitch, and Warriors sped up, whispering to Arik again. He was betting a lot on the little dragon, and could only pray that it would work.

Torches were lit around him by juggling performers, and Warriors drifted closer to them, heart thudding, palms sweating, the beat of the music thudding in his ears.

Then he twirled neatly around, and in one smooth motion, threw his sword right at Legend’s tank.

It may not have been sharp, but the fake sword was heavy, heavy enough to make a huge crack form in the glass. At the same moment Arik leapt from Warriors’ shoulders and knocked over the nearest torch, sending fire shooting towards the tent walls.

Legend exploded into movement as someone shrieked, and slammed his shoulder against the crack in his tank, breaking it with a resounding crash as water burst free.

The audience screamed at the noise and spreading fire, and people began to jump from their seats, rushing for the exit. Warriors bolted for Legend and quickly helped him up, Legend’s now-legs shaking violently.

“Nice throw,” he breathed, and Warriors nodded, giving his shoulder a warm squeeze as he began to drag him towards the exit.

Arik scrambled back onto Warriors’ shirt, leaping impossibly high. He gave Legend a delighted chirp when he saw him, and rubbed against his face as they hurried away from the shattered glass and spreading fire.

Legend gave the dragon a tiny smile, and petted him in turn.

The tent had fallen into chaos, people running and shouting and trying to figure out what had happened. Warriors heard furious yelling above it all, and he quickly pulled Legend out of the tent and into the dark night outside. He didn’t really have a destination in mind, just getting away was his biggest goal.

“Try the town?” Legend wheezed, his lungs obviously straining.

“I was thinking the woods,” Warriors replied, "better cover." Legend nodded.

People streamed around them, largely ignoring the three, but occasionally someone noticed them or Arik and shrieked. Warriors made sure to change direction whenever that happened, and Legend followed beside him, his legs still stumbling as he got used to them again.

Warriors kept his gaze scanning for any weapons he could swipe, but between the crowd and uncertain lighting, nothing caught his eye. Every time someone shouted he flinched, and Warriors could feel himself flagging, pain and exhaustion dragging his steps. The longer they fought their way through the crowds, the worse Warriors' anxiety grew.

They needed to get out of here now.

Arik suddenly let out a screech, and something slammed into Warriors, tearing him from Legend’s grip and wrapping around him as he was thrown to the ground. Legend shouted as Warriors struggled, and he realized he’d been caught in a net.

“I told you not to try anything!” a familiar voice shouted, sharp with anger.

Warriors peered through a hole, and his stomach dropped as the woman strode forward, her hair askew and face furious. The tent they’d set on fire backlit her in an eerie way, and Legend stumbled to put himself between her and Warriors, legs shaking as he held himself up, gripping the prop sword.

His face was equally furious-looking, and Warriors began tearing frantically at the net, trying to rip a hole in order to free himself. Arik had been trapped in it along with him, and his claws dug into Warriors’ chin as he thrashed and cried in distress.

“Ma!” he wailed, and as the woman drew her whip and one of her assistants readied another net, Warriors’ gaze clouded with fury.

He’d had enough.

His rage built in the back of his throat, heat rushing up through his chest in a strangely familiar way. His throat clenched so tightly Warriors thought for a moment he was going to throw up, but then he snapped his mouth open and fire blazed from between his lips.

The net broke from the heat and Legend stumbled backwards, his eyes wide as a huge blast of fire burst towards the woman and her assistants. Warriors heard panicked shrieks, and as his fire sputtered out and the remains of the net fell away from him, he bent nearly double as he coughed, throat spasming, his whole mouth tasting like smoke.

Okay yeah I’m not really built for that, good to know, he thought dizzily as Legend shook his arm, saying something he couldn’t hear over his hacking.

“Ink!” Arik screeched in his ear, and Warriors finally caught his breath enough to stumble to his feet, and Legend dragged him away, the grass burning behind them.

They didn’t make it far before Warriors heard shouting again, and he let out a breathless curse, sparing a single glance over his shoulder. More of the other troupe members were chasing them now, and Warriors forced his exhausted legs to keep going, Legend struggling along beside him.

One of their feet caught on something, Warriors didn’t know if it was him or Legend, but they both tumbled to the ground, a triumphant shout behind them.

Warriors lifted himself up on shaking elbows, back screaming in pain, his throat raw from smoke, and Legend shakily caught his arm.

“Wars, I...” Legend wheezed, his eyes half-lidded. “I’m not... get y-yourself out of here...”

“No,” Warriors snapped, then coughed and gritted his teeth. “None of us are going back in there.”

Arik stood up and hissed as shadows fell over them, baring his tiny teeth and claws. Warriors braced himself to get up and try to fight, when someone suddenly yelled in pain.

One of the figures above them toppled backwards, and Warriors stared at the arrow protruding from a shoulder.

He’d know that fletching anywhere.

“Captain! Vet!” a familiar voice shouted, and Warriors managed to sit up the rest of the way, relief sweeping over him as two figures leapt out of the shadows and began pushing the enemies back.

Another appeared and knelt beside them, and Warriors let Wind snatch him into a hug, even though it hurt.

“Thank Jabun you guys are okay, we’ve been looking for you guys for ages," Wind gasped into his shoulder, "it took us so long to figure out where you went it was like you'd just disappeared and then there was this whole side quest thing we got stuck doing—” Wind continued as he pulled back with a relieved look, talking at warp speed. Warriors nodded as he helped Legend sit up, and Wind paused in his talking just long enough to grab him into a hug too. “—it was a whole thing and that’s why there’s a dragon over where Sky is and—”

“Whoa whoa whoa, wait, say that last part again,” Warriors said, and Wind breathed out, and then in.

“We found a dragon, the good protector kind, not a boss. She said her baby had been stolen and wanted us to help, and once we figured out you guys were here Time said he thought her baby might also be here, so that’s why there’s a huge dragon with Sky,” Wind summed up in one breath. “Also Sky can understand her? None of us can but him. It’s not very fair.”

Warriors grinned despite his exhaustion, and heard a distant roar bellow out across the field. Arik’s head shot straight up from where he'd been pressed against Warriors' side at the sound, his head and ears tilting around rather frantically, and Wind gasped.

“Whoa, what’s that?”

Warriors scratched Arik in his favorite spot. “Another escapee,” Warriors said with an exhausted smile. “...And the reason Sky’s friend is here.”

Arik eyeballed Wind cautiously, but Wind stayed still, only stretching out a hand for him to examine. Arik gave it a small sniff, then chirped, bonking his head against his fingers.

Wind giggled. “Aw, he’s cute. You... said he was captured too?”

Warriors nodded. “Yeah. For a lot longer than us.”

"Put up a good fight, though," Legend wheezed quietly, and Warriors held his shoulder a bit tighter. Legend leaned into the touch with an exhausted sigh, and Wind gave them both a worried look.

A fair amount of the yelling had died down around them, the crowds dispersing, though Warriors could still hear some shouts from across the field. More of the Links appeared shortly, looking utterly relieved at the sight of Legend and Warriors, and Warriors let them all fuss over them. Arik curled up in a trembly ball on his lap as he explained briefly all of what had happened, and Twilight and Time exchanged horrified looks more than once.

Legend was half-asleep on his shoulder by the time he finished, and Hyrule had just started to try and coax him to drink a red potion when Sky suddenly joined them all, the last one of their group to appear.

He gave Warriors and Legend relieved looks, and then his gaze landed on the dragon in Warriors' lap and his face lit up.

"Oh it's him! You found Arik!" he exclaimed excitedly. Before Warriors could reply, a huge shadow swept over them, blocking out the moon.

“Arik!” a chiming voice cried out, and a huge deep blue dragon poured out from the sky, landing effortlessly on the ground before them. Arik shot up from his place on Warriors’ lap and squealed, leaping straight at her and purring wildly as the huge dragon nuzzled him.

Warriors smiled as he leaned heavily against Legend, both dragons purring contentedly as they reunited. Time gave him an amused look from beside him, and Warriors quickly cleared his throat as he realized he was purring as well. Oh sure, now it decides to work.

The blue dragon finally eased in her frantic purring, and she looked around at them all, her eyes bright with relief. Arik sat on her head, still purring up a storm, and began chattering so quickly Warriors couldn't make out a word of it. His mother let out what Warriors assumed was a laugh, and Arik draped himself across her nose, looking happier than Warriors had ever seen him.

“Thank you heroes, you've done more for me than you could possibly imagine,” the dragon rumbled, her gaze resting on Warriors. “Especially you, little dragon and mer. Thank you for protecting my son.”

Warriors smiled, and froze as the dragon leaned forward, pressing her nose to his forehead.

“I can see that you've suffered much. Your kindness won’t be forgotten,” she said warmly, and gave him and Legend's hair a small lick.

Warriors heard a few of the others muffle laughs, but he nodded at the dragon, and Legend, though he looked confused, managed a smile in her direction.

“You guys catch the leader?” Legend murmured as he sipped at the potion Hyrule finally got him to drink.

“We did, don’t worry,” Twilight said, giving the burning tent in the distance a furious look.

“Some knights from the town came to see what was going on, and we explained the trouble. We helped them get her and most of her people in custody already,” Time said, and Warriors further relaxed.

Arik wouldn’t have to worry about her ever again.

As if he’d heard his thoughts, the little dragon hopped off of his mother and scampered over to him, not quite flying with his small hops. “Ink A-rik!” he said with a happy purr, and a sudden pang of sadness hit Warriors.

Logically he’d known this was coming, but... he supposed he hadn’t really thought about what saying goodbye would entail. He had no clue where they were in history, especially not in relation to his own time period. In all likelihood, he’d never see Arik again.

“Ink?” Arik chirped, and Warriors gave him a smile, scratching at the base of his horns.

"You’re going to have to go in a minute here, little guy," Warriors said softly, still gently scratching. Arik chirped again, and rubbed against him with a quiet purr. “Your mom probably wants to take you home.”

“Ma,” Arik said happily, looking back at her, and Warriors nodded. Then he looked back at Warriors, and his face drooped. "Ink," he said a little sadly, and gave Warriors a small lick on the nose.

"Yeah, I’m going to stay here. This is... goodbye. I'll miss you too," Warriors said with a sad smile, and Arik rested his head against his with a quiet coo, meeting Warriors' blue eyes with his own bright green.

Then he licked his nose again and pulled back, giving Legend a quick lick as well before hopping back over to his mother. Legend spluttered, but there was a fond look on his face as Arik climbed up onto his mother’s head again. The large dragon blinked happily as her baby curled up, and gave all of the Links one more grateful look, her gaze lingering on Warriors again.

“Thank you,” she purred softly, then leapt into the air, a triumphant musical cry ringing through the sky.

They all watched her sweep across the field, her scales nearly glowing in the moonlight, Arik chirping along with her. The smell of rain hit Warriors’ nose as the dragon curled over the spreading flames, and he saw mist sweep over the field, steam rising from the now-doused tent and grass.

And then she flew upwards, and both dragons disappeared into the starry night.

Warriors sighed, every ache and pain suddenly reminding him of its presence full-force. His throat and back still aches fiercely, and suddenly all he wanted to do was sleep. Legend looked over at him, and Warriors gave him a faint smile.

“Let’s get you two out of here, I’m sure you’ve have had enough of this place,” Time said, and Warriors nodded, Legend huffing out an exhausted laugh.

“Absolutely,” he agreed as his eyes slipped closed, and Wind and Hyrule helped him up, Time assisting Warriors. Warriors leaned heavily against him, legs wobbling, and Time gave him a worried look as his eye flitted across the scales painted across his face.

“You’re all right, Captain?” he asked quietly, and Warriors nodded, looking over at him.

“I will be,” he assured just as quietly, and sent Time a faint smirk. “I just want a hot meal, a bath, and to get out of these clothes.”

Time chuckled, but his warm grip didn’t lessen in the slightest as Warriors looked up at the sky one more time, scanning the swathe of stars above them.

He almost thought he heard a triumphant chirp echo from above him.

[fanbasetwo]

✦ WHO’S MOST LIKELY TO SAY ‘I LOVE YOU’ FIRST IN ZEROBASEONE !!

001. PAIRING , zb1 × afab reader

002. GENRE , fluff, headcannon, scenario

ZEROBASEONE MASTERLIST !!

#01. HANBIN . . . ✦

Hanbin literally tops. Not only is he the leader of the group but has a confident personality. Never seen him do dance challenges with female idols where he is shy, he's mostly confident and would most probably won't even mind confessing his love for you. It doesn't matter if you say it back, as long as he's said it—he feels the wait off of his chest. But if you do say it back, he'll pamper you with kisses.

#02. MATTHEW . . . ✦

Although he seems shy and all cute at first, he seems the type to love-love. Would fear rejection but would also not be able to keep his feelings inside himself and will for sure spill the tea all out. He'd probably say the first ‘I love you’ when it had been just a week and though this might seem like a red flag to some... he just genuinely loved you and couldn't help himself from saying it out to you.

#03. ZHANG HAO . . . ✦

You'd be stupid if you'd expect a leo to be shy in a relationship. Sure there would be times when he'd be the one shy and hiding his face but when it would come to saying ‘I love you’, he won't miss the chance to say it first. Don't mind though, if you give him enough consent he might even lean in to kiss you on the lips.

#04. GYUVIN . . . ✦

Eh eh eh... Gyuvin is a playful one and though he's not the type to say it first. He might practice saying it in front of his mirror but even so, he will only say it if it's been over a few months and you two still haven't shared the ‘I love you’s couples were normally supposed to do. He will try to be romantic but will end up sounding awkward and frustrated, so much that you'd have to ask to make sure that he was in the right mind when he had said that.

#05. JIWOONG . . . ✦

He's shy (so babygirl coded aghhhhh). Even though he has kissed in a kdrama, boy would be more shy than his members. He would hope that you would eventually say ‘I love you’ to him first but when you were just as shy as him and maybe even more, only then will he agree to take the lead and say it. Will bury his face in his palms and won't look at you until you do say it back or else it'll be a embarrassing moment for him.

#06. GUNWOOK . . . ✦

He won't say it first even if he can and wants to. That is because he wants to know if you will ever say it first. But again, when he least expects it—he’ll be shy upon hearing an ‘I love you’ directed at him. That too by the one he loves so much. But if he gets an opportunity where the two of you are in the moment, he will definitely go for it and say it first.

#07. RICKY . . . ✦

I know you were expecting to see him on top but let's be honest. You won't like a bull (taurus) to say ‘I love you’ first. And I'm not saying it just so—it’s because Ricky would most probably ruin the moment by saying something else. He's stubborn as heck, so he won't be saying it first but will definitely say it back if you do.

#08. TAERAE . . . ✦

Taerae is not going to say it first. He'd go to his friends for advice, asking how to say ‘I love you’ first. Maybe even go on reddit or quora or other websites he could find. After getting all the moral support he will not say 143 first. It's not because he doesn't love you. But it's because he's too shy to do so, so much that it would hurt him and you at times.

#09. YUJIN . . . ✦

Trust me or not, I'm not putting Yujin at last because he's the maknae. It's because as a pisces myself I can relate to Yujin at times. Even on the boys planet, he was shown as the sensitive and shy typa guy. Which I strongly believe is so close to his real personality. He will NEVER. I repeat. NEVER EVER say I love you first. He's too nervous and shy for that.

NOTE FROM SENA , just realised this is my first zb1 fluff aghhhhh. and I deeply apologize if the reference to zodiac signs is annoying (because I believe it was) might try to use them less when making upcoming ‘most likely to’ works <3

© 2024 , all rights reserved to fanbasetwo !

[heretherebedork]

You know what the scene in the school where Jack left Joke to be surprised by his father cemented in me?

That the show is more interested in specific class commentary than in the commentary that the characters themselves offer about their situations.

Which is to say...

Joke's trauma is being underwritten and turned into something funny because Jack's trauma is the serious part of the show, because Jack's trauma from poverty overrules Jack's trauma from his struggles with school and with feeling like a constant scapegoat and unworthy of being loved.

Jack is allowed every trauma, he is allowed to say that he has never dreamed and that being poor means you don't dream even when he's the one who dreamed where Joke never had a thought of his own future in his mind but that wasn't important because he wasn't poor and he wasn't trapped in that way and so it doesn't matter as much ans his lack of dreams is never commented on.

Jack leaves Joke standing in front of a class full of children with a problem he can't solve and it's played as funny, as lighthearted, as if Joke on the verge of a panic attack is something that everyone should be laughing at because his trauma isn't treated as deep or serious. His father, who is the reason for most of this trauma, is sent in to rescue him and then they resolve their relationship. And... that's that! He's invited home. It's over. None of that trauma matters anymore and it was all meant to be funny, to be a joke, to be something Jack did for him... you know, humiliate him because he's bad at school. Funny.

The show is more interested in making class commentary than it is on character commentary and that's why I'm worried that Jack won't be the one to go after Joke but that Joke will have to come back again, that Joke will have to fight for them again, that it will always be Joke fighting because the show doesn't care about Joke's trauma except to solve it as quickly and unimportantly as possible so they can focus on Jack and his neighborhood.

And I'm not saying Jack doesn't have trauma or that commenting about that is wrong or that class commentary is wrong but what I am saying is that Moonlight Chicken did it better and deeper and faced down the fact that trauma happens no matter how much money you have and that trauma might be different depending on class but it's all still trauma all the way down.

Jack has his trauma but so does Joke but the show doesn't care about Joke's trauma because they want to make a commentary on classism and class issues and that means that Joke's issues can never be as bad or as important as Jack's because he's not part of the commentary or at least he wasn't. Now he is and so his new trauma is allowed but the old things? They have to just... stop.

I am struggling with this a lot so I'm making this post to get words and thoughts out. This doesn't mean I hate the show or the characters or the creators or even that I'm not enjoying it! This is just a specific aspect of the show itself and an ongoing issue in Thai B: that has frustrated me for a while tbh because it's so often that they can only honor the trauma of one of the characters in a relationship so the other gets brushed aside (see also: Mhok of Last Twilight).

I also really think that if the show had been more invested in the specific struggles of the characters we could have gotten even more painful social commentary about Rose's trying to help that never does and Jack's struggles with failed dreams and Hoy and Tattoo being trapped where they are and Aran arriving and just so much that would have been just as interesting as The One Ring of Crime.

[tamayakii]

warning i am so high

phillip graves unlocks something in me, touches that part of my daddy issues that makes me sing. He's so country-bordering-red neck daddy energy, all of the looks-ugnff..,, the nimble yet gruff hands,,, years worth of callouses on them rubbing on your back as you sit on his lap, drifting dangerously close to your hips... wiping your cry baby tears away as he shushes you after he raised his voice a bit too loud for your poor heart. Those eyebrows furrowed upwards, lips thinning as when the inside of his lips caught on his teeth, often right before he spoke, a habit he has from his own father...

He knows what it's like for your dad gone emotionally. Having grown up in the classic white-picket family, expect the pristine paint to allude to a perfect family—which was not entirely true. He joined the military to deal with it, and now he has an entire company under him—in a way healing that tiny part of him by becoming a leader and teaching his men. He won't admit it though.

But you? Your father gave you nothing besides a few memories. No tools to try and survive in the cruel world, at least he had the makings of them. You had no tools, not even the plans to make them yourself. Left to wander with an aching heart, burying that hole and the pain with lies that you were fine.

Curling on the couch, laying your head next to Phil's right thigh. A beer in his left hand whilst the other pets your hair, some stupid (at least to you) football game. Letting you take small baby sips of the drink, chuckling at your twisted face. Fully tugging you on his lap, purring in a soft voice- "You're not supposed to like it, baby" his words sent warm fuzzies in your stomach. He doesn't just let you sit up in his lap, no no no... he basically cradles you now, letting your head fall on his shoulder, drawing your knees up.

He lets you satisfy the little girl in you, buys you the cutest frilly outfits, and lets you "win" in playfights just to hear you giggle like a madman. He lets you plan picnics because you want to plan one for once, so diligently—acting like it's all a big surprise, but he went with you to get the food you needed.

Standing beside him, as he works on his old high school truck. Telling you the stories of teenage him- oh GAWD. You know he lives in some big-ish town, still big enough that he may not know everyone, but small enough that he does see a majority of folks he knows.

God I need to ride his dick so bad, I need it so bad. Don't yell at me but I need him to be my daddy AND fuck me. FUCK

and don't get me on if you misbehave around him. The disappointment, dear god it's nearly overwhelming as the tears well in your eyes- Not used to the feelings stirring in your chest but you hate them so much. Phil forcing past frustrations when he sees the tears spill over, cupping your face as he tells you he's not mad... not anymore.

god fuck... the spankings would also be brutal as hell. Sobbing over his lap, slapping your bare ass cause he tore your panties down with your jeans. The rough fabric of his fingerless gloves added to the pain.

I literally cannot stop, somebody help.

OH MY GOD AND TRACING HIS SCAR TOO,,, him telling you mild war stories, having himself be the big hero, cause he is the hero in your mind. Sitting in his lap facing him, thighs straddling him, his hands interlocked behind your hips,,, sobbing on my knees.

[krisluxxeeempress]

MARS SQUARE SATURN SYNASTRY| ASTRO SYNASTRY SERIES

Aw, man. This synastry aspect is like a parent and child relationship, with the beginning stages being the worst part for anyone who shares this synastry. The mars person depends on the Saturn person and resents it and chooses to rebel. The Saturn person feels responsible for the mars person and becomes frustrated more often than not, with the mars person. It’s interesting because parents love their children (most times) and children (usually) love their parents at the end of the day, despite all the growing pains.

Personally, I am estranged from my family, but my parents still have an emotional hold on me. I love them despite all the pain I feel they’ve caused me and I’m sure they feel the same way. They provided me a safe environment and a private education so despite them not being there emotionally for me, I am grateful and love them. They were very hard on me and expected a lot from me but at the end of it all- I am hyper independent and strong because of them.

So, with the mars square Saturn synastry that is how they both feel about each other which inadvertently causes the square, the challenge in this dynamic. A parent can claim that their kids get on their nerves but in the same sentence they claim they wouldn’t be where they are without their kids and usually their life reflects just that. Example, before kids the parents weren't living right or taking anything serious. After kids, I've witnessed parents buying houses, obtaining degrees and having better jobs. They felt the need to grow up and so they did. It wasn't just talk but action.

Kids can claim to hate their parents but when it really matters, the kids always come through for the parents even in adulthood. You hate that your mom makes you clean your room, but you do it anyway because deep down you love her. Your parents hate how expensive you are, but they still work hard to not only provide for you but also strive to give you what you want. Both parties want to please the other and, in this quest, comes the frustration because if only I didn’t love the Saturn person, I wouldn’t have to do this. If only I did not love the mars person, I wouldn’t have to tolerate that.

We tend to EVENTUALLY love what we initially FOUND difficult at first. Therefore, I can say the mars and Saturn person do begin to love each other deeply after some time. Anytime Saturn is involved, you can expect long term. IT’S WEIRD BUT THE MORE ANYONE INVESTS FINANCIALLY (OR ENERGETICALLY) INTO SOMETHING OR SOMEONE, WE BECOME EMOTIONALLY INVESTED- IT'S ODDLY NEVER THE OTHER WAY AROUND. I SUPPOSE THAT IS WHY SOME SAY LOVE IS AN ACTION AND NOT AN EMOTION.

WITH THAT BEING SAID, THIS COUPLE SHOWS LOVE THROUGH ACTION. THE SATURN PERSON TRAINS THE MARS PERSON HOW TO ACT AND HOW TO PROPERLY EXERT THEIR ENERGY IN A MATURE MANNER AND INITIALLY THIS IS WHERE THE HARDEST CHALLENGES COMES IN. THE MARS PERSON IS LIKE A WILD ANIMAL AND THE SATURN PERSON IS THE TRAINER TRYING TO DOMESTICATE A WILD ANIMAL.) SOME WILD ANIMALS WILL SUBMIT MEANWHILE OTHERS RATHER DIE THAN TO BE DOMESTICATED – THE RESISTANCE IS USUALLY COMING FROM THE MARS PERSON WHICH AGAIN MAKES THIS SYNASTRY VERY DIFFICULT TO DEAL WITH. THE SATURN PERSON FEELS LIKE THEY HAVE TO TEACH OR RETEACH THE MARS PERSON EVERYTHING, USUALLY IT’S RE TEACH BECAUSE DUH! WE ARE GROWN.

SO, IF THE MARS PERSON IS USED TO BEING DISRESPECTFUL, IMMATURE, PLAYING GAMES IN RELATIONSHIPS- THE SATURN PERSON WILL CORRECT THIS BEHAVIOR AND IT WILL FEEL LIKE THE MARS PERSON IS RECEIVING AN ASS WHOOPING. SIMILAR TO A PARENT DISCIPLINING THEIR CHILD.  

The mars person will feel like everything they do is a problem and they’re unable to do anything right according to the Saturn person. The mars person will either decide to give up, rebel and run away from the Saturn person- kind of like a teenager who is mad at their parents for expecting better from them and begins smoking, drinking and getting in trouble with the law. The thing is the Saturn person does have high expectations and mars person will be challenged to rise to the occasion. This synastry aspect does give off ultimatum vibes because in reality, the mars person needs the Saturn person more than the Saturn person needs the mars person- and if the mars person is honest with themselves, they know this.

Going back to my examples- the wild animal needs the trainer, and the reckless kid/ adult needs their parents. Parents provide protection from all things the kid isn't ready for, same goes for a trainer. But in the moment, the animal, the kid, the mars person is unable to appreciate this and views it as an opposition (someone against them) not a (square) challenge to overcome.

the Saturn person has more experience and knowledge because they have been there and done that. The Saturn person “wasn’t born yesterday” so to speak. So, the Saturn person has patience with the mars person to a certain extent. Depending on the sign Saturn is placed in will determine just how short that patience will extend.

The Saturn person wants to invest in the mars person but only if it’s worth it and that is where the strength or weakness of the mars person will be exposed AND CHALLENGED. BUT IT’LL BE UP TO THE MARS PERSON TO RISE TO THE OCCASION. THINGS GET BETTER WITH TIME WITH THIS COUPLE SO LONG AS THE MARS PERSON ADHERES TO WHAT IS BEING TAUGHT, SHOWN AND EXPECTED- LIKE ANYTIHNG IN LIFE. WHEN WE START NEW JOBS AND ARE UNDERGOING TRAINING, THINGS SEEM OVERWHELMING BUT AS YOU STICK IT OUT, THE JOB becomes easier, and you will find that you were capable all along. When we start lifting weights at the gym, it’s painful, foreign, uncomfortable, and hard work but only the strong survive right? When you stick with something hard overtime you see massive growth and that is what this synastry is about especially for the mars person.

As for the Saturn person, they must learn greater patience and understanding and maybe some compassion because they have been the mars person before until they learned for themselves. Not everyone heals and learns at the same speed as yourself and having that expectation isn’t realistic or fair. The Saturn person may be too hard on the mars person and sometimes, this is because the Saturn person is trying to be a better through the mars person.

Back to my parent and child example- there are so many parents who failed in life in some regard and then they have children and try to live vicariously through the kid. A parent always wanted to be a doctor but couldn’t accomplish this, so they expect their kid to live out that dream. When the kid rebels, the parent in turn feels betrayed and let down and gives up on their kid with feelings of disdain and resentment. So, the Saturn person is challenged to reflect upon their intentions when it comes to the mars person.

Nonetheless, the mars and Saturn person are invested in each other because they both have a point to prove.  The mars person has the energy, drive and will to rise to the occasion but the Saturn person may initially make them feel insecure and question themselves. This makes the mars person angry but deep down it’s really insecurity because the mars person wants to make the Saturn person proud of them, they just hate how the Saturn person goes about it. Again, it feels like an ultimatum or conditional love not unconditional in the eyes of the mars person and this makes them resentful and resistance initially.

The mars person ultimately doesn’t feel like they can be themselves or accepted if they do not submit to the Saturn person. Whereas the Saturn person feels like they do understand the mars person which is why they have high standards for them because they can see the potential in the mars person that the mars person cannot comprehend at the moment.

Personally, I am predisposed and maybe biased in the sense that I think life is about challenges and growth. If you are with someone who doesn’t challenge you, I feel it to be pointless. I view this synastry to be very beneficial and reflects a mature love that will last the test of time which we all claim to desire at the end of the day. But when things get hard most people run away from it.

If you truly love someone or want to make it work, you’ll find a way. You'll make a way, giving up was never an option.

[cazort]

I strongly agree with almost everything in this post, but I have one quibble, and this is the use of the term "moderate".

I find this frustrating because I'm trans and nonbinary, and I consider myself a moderate, and I very much dislike how some people use the term.

Being a "moderate" on trans issues does not mean caving to any of the right-wing attempts to roll back trans rights. What it can mean, however, is:

wanting sports leagues or their independent governing bodies to make their own decisions about who can and can't compete on what teams (contrast with the right-wing stance saying they want the government to bar trans people from competing even if sports leagues want to allow trans people to compete, but also contrast with far-left stances saying they want the government to force all independent sports bodies to accept trans people according to some set of criteria that the government sets) Why am I moderate on this issue? Because I don't want trans identities politicized. I don't want politicians to be debating our rights. If it's kept in the realm of the independent sports bodies, it's kept out of the political sphere and I see that as a win.

wanting all trans people to face zero pressure one way or the other when it comes to any sort of medical transition (contrast with the right-wing stance which wants to make medical transition illegal, or at least ban it for minors and make adults have to pay for it out of pocket, but also contrast with the transmedicalist stance which is unfortunately common in left-wing circles, which says that medical transition is the be-all and end-all of transition and trans people need medical transition to be happy, it's necessarily the right choice for all trans people, and you aren't really trans if you haven't medically transitioned) Why am I moderate on this issue? Because I see great pressure to medically transition both from transphobia (not having our genders recognized unless we transition) and from other trans people (glorifying the effects of transition, saying it will solve all our problems, etc.) and from left-wing pro-trans ideology which can get wrapped up in transmedicalism (equating "transition" with medical transition, equating medical transition with transness, etc.) and I hate this pressure. When people don't desire medical transition, it can lead to regret. When people do, it can mess with our motivation because it can be hard for us to sort out which desires or motivations are innate vs. which are imposed on us.

wanting people to be a bit more tolerant of the language people use, especially in the absence of any overt rudeness or explicit proof of bad faith. For example, not berating people or snapping at them for using the wrong pronouns (only politely correcting), not criticizing people or telling them they are "wrong" or "transphobic" for using older terminology (like "FtM", "MtF", "became a (wo)man", etc.) Why am I moderate on this issue? Because I've seen so many people get attacked, sometimes brutally, for using the "wrong" terminology, and this then makes the trans rights movement look unreasonable. Also the single worst stereotype I have to contend with as a nonbinary person is the expectation from others that I will be "demanding" and get angry at them if they use the wrong pronouns or gendered language to refer to me. And this is so frustrating because I'm actually laid back about these things, but I have to contend with these stereotypes in part because a lot of people do react this way.

wanting any pro-trans people to be more understanding of things like how it can be hard mentally and emotionally to adjust to people changing the gender, name, and/or pronouns they are referred to by. Why am I moderate on this issue? Because I prefer they/them pronouns and yet I still find it a bit hard or awkward sometimes, even though I prefer them over he/him and she/her pronouns. And more broadly, even though I'm nonbinary, I find the concept of nonbinary genders highly abstract and a bit confusing and hard to wrap my mind around. So I figure, if it's hard for me, it's probably going to be even harder for a cis person so the least I could do is to have a little bit of patience with them. Also, I don't want people to perceive my gender as an imposition on them so I don't particularly want others to be abrasive or aggressive about enforcing my pronouns or gender.

So yeah, I'm a moderate on trans issues. What this means is that I want to keep government out of gender, and more broadly, keep trans people from being politicized, I want there to be no pressure to medically transition one way or the other, and I am tolerant of people using older and/or nonstandard terminology to refer to trans people, and I'm relatively laid-back about people misgendering me or using non-preferred terminology to refer to me.

It does not mean I want to cave to any of the demands of far-right ideology.

The state of gay rights in the early aughts was not good; criminal penalties for homosexuality were rarely enforced but were on the books in many places, there was no right to marriage, and the morality of homosexuality was hotly contested in public. Big culture war issue. In that environment, where substantive protections were lacking, Democrats could be tepid on gay rights without actively giving anything up—if, like Obama in 2008, you didn’t support gay marriage, you could still be seen (correctly) as advocating for an overall better situation for gay people, or at least one that was no worse, in contrast to your right wing opponents.

Trans rights are not in the same position. Before the big trans rights backlash started, access to gender affirming care was pretty widespread, was everywhere legal, and was a matter for private concern only. Trans people could play in school sports subject to whatever their league’s rules were, and the idea of trying to make it illegal to cross dress in public was absurd. The conservative position since has become one of an explicit rollback of rights: revoke access to gender affirming care, create new criminal sanctions to punish trans people, make it illegal for them to participate in school sports, etc.

In that environment, tacking to the right on trans issues means deciding which elements of trans rights you are willing to concede to this project of actually rolling back trans rights. The only thing comparable from the gay rights fight is maybe state constitutional amendments to ban gay marriage, or DOMA—all of which were, IIRC, passed despite gay marriage not being legal in affected jurisdictions. Their enactment, while deplorable, had no material negative affect; gay people already couldn’t get married.

And that this project of rolling back trans rights is not a particular fetish of the religious right is more worrying. Plenty of liberals and liberal institutions are pretty transphobic. Britain has been working to export its flavor of (Moderate, Sensible, Secular) transphobia to other countries in Europe and the Anglosphere. Transphobes winning these fights isn’t a status quo situation—it’s a sharp increase in repression of trans people.

In light of that, I regard calls to “moderate” on trans issues with at best scorn. I think the party of civil rights condoning the rollback of citizens’ civil rights is really bad for its brand, won’t win it more votes, and may sufficiently alienate members of the base—who are invested in the party specifically because of its historic support for civil rights—that they simply don’t bother to show up in elections.

[diazsdimples]

WIP Wednesday

This is more of a "tell me which Wip I need to work on Wednesday" lmao. I feel like I've lost all direction with my writing and am jumping from fic to fic with no real dedication to any of them and it's driving me insane. So! Please tell me which wip I should focus my efforts on finishing! I'll put brief synopses of each one beneath the poll.

Disaster Date Fic - After much pressing from their boyfriend, Eddie and Tommy finally go on a date just the two of them. During their rock climbing date, Eddie has an accident and sustains some serious injuries. Torn with guilt, Tommy avoids him in the hospital, Eddie misses Tommy, and Buck is even more frustrated with his boyfriends and their inability to say what they feel. A long and convoluted way of getting all three of them to admit their love for each other.

Doctor AU - Eddie Diaz - one of the most sought after obstetricians in LA - meets pediatrician wonderboy Evan Buckley when they begin working at the same hospital. They work side by side as Eddie performs live-saving surgeries and Buck helps the tiny, fragile babies Eddie delivers, and both of them fall hard for one another. But love is never easy when you work a Doctor's schedule and you're hiding your relationship from your colleagues.

Ranch AU - Bobby and Athena are still looking for a new home after theirs burnt down in a fire. Bobby finds a ranch on a real estate website and immediately falls in love, convincing Athena to go look at it. They buy the ranch and begin their semi-retired lives working on the vegetable garden, raising chickens and horses, hosting parties for the 118 fam, and providing a home for Athena's rabbit, Hercules.

I was tagged by @hippolotamus and @bidisasterevankinard thanks loves!

np tagging @theotherbuckley @daffi-990 @spotsandsocks @inell @wikiangela

@monsterrae1 @lonelychicago @bigfootsmom @vanmarkus @steadfastsaturnsrings

@cal-daisies-and-briars @bekkachaos @kitteneddiediaz @exhuastedpigeon @swiftiefirefighters

@louscurls @comfortingevanbuckley @dorkydiaz @jesuisici33 @rainbow-nerdss

@thekristen999 @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @bibuckbuckgoose @bi-buckrights @loucifersbitch

@perfectlysunny02 @actuallyitsellie @tommykinard @reginamillls @buckhastwohands

[knight-a3]

Heavenbound AU Masterpost

Alastor Redesign

I've spent an absurd amount of time researching deer, microphones, and 1920s-30s fashion for this. I'm by no means an expert of any of it, but I'm decently confident enough for some fictional depictions.

I'll include some notes under the cut, which does get a little long. I doubt other characters will get this detailed, but Alastor has a lot of design themes and motifs that were a bit too ingrained to remove. Everyone else is either simple in comparison, or much easier to simplify.

Alastor also just catches my interest in ways the others don't.

Design notes (I'll add edits notes as they come, should it be necessary)

My goal was to design him in a way that still felt like the same character, just altering the aspects I thought could be better. So a radical change wasn't what I was going for. That said, I had a logical reason for most of the changes I made.

--Deer-- Quickly, there's some regional terminology to clear up. In Europe, elk often refers to what North Americans call moose. And the NA Elk is sometimes called by an alternate name, "wapiti". I had never heard the term wapiti before researching this. And since I live where NA Elk are native (Rocky Mountain region), I think my terminology takes priority. Alastor would call them elk too. Before anyone says Elk aren't deer; yes they are. The word 'elk' basically means "big deer." They look similar to the Red Deer (Similar looking antlers, but elk are bigger, second only to moose, which are also a species of deer). It used to be believed that elk was a subspecies of Red Deer, but that's apparently been proven false. In NA, there are five main species in the deer/cervid family(listed from smallest to largest): Whitetail, mule deer, caribou/reindeer, elk, and moose.

Deer Sounds If you haven't heard deer sounds, I promise they aren't what you'd expect. Fanfics authors like to describe him making deer noises, but I'm not sure they realize what the sounds are actually like. I'll describe some noises, but search for them on Youtube, for both males and females separately. Using these terms will help you find specific examples. I listened to so many just trying to figure out how to describe them. Snort-They make a huffy blowing sound when alerted or alarmed. Often sounds like a bark. It's basically sounding the alarm. Does often make it when they're being harassed by bucks. Grunts- sounds like a croaky or clicky groan. Sorta like a frog or a pig. Sometimes sounds like cattle's moo. There are casual grunts, curious grunts, frustrated grunts, submissive grunts, low-drawn-out dominance grunts. Bleat- sounds more whiny, sheep-like, and higher pitched than a grunt. But it doesn't sound like a goat or sheep. It's used more by does and fawns. The younger it is, the higher the pitch. Really young fawns will sound like a little meep or maa. Snort Wheeze- sounds like a sniffy huff, followed by extended "F" sound. "sniff sniff Fffffff" There's a lot of air to it. It's basically an insult or challenge. Elk Bugle- much higher pitched than you'd expect from such a large animal. More so than a deer. It's an eerie, high pitched screech. They're basically broadcasting their location, looking for cows. Bulls will bugle back and forth, competing for attention. Elk chuckles and grunts- shorter versions of the bugle. Sounds kinda like monkey hoots. Elk Bark- alarmed or irritated. Sounds like a small dog's bark. Elk Chirps and mews- It reminds me of the curious sounds the dilophosaurus from Jurassic Park made. Or seagulls. They're just chatting.

What deer is he? Based on what I've observed, I don't think he was designed with any specific species in mind. I've seen others say his antler growth is most like elk, but I've found it inconsistent at best. Elk noises are used in the show, but that's because they make a distinct and eerie sound. More impressive than a deer's grunt or snort and wheeze. Personally, I think whitetail makes the most sense for him, since that's the species that would be most prevalent in Louisiana. While I'm basing him primarily off whitetail deer, he is a fictional deer-looking demon man, and doesn't have to perfectly resemble any single species of deer. His bright red color is clearly not realistic, for example. So I will incorporate some aspects of whitetail, mule deer, and elk, since those are the prevalent species in North America. I've given him a whitetail deer tail, but with the white swapped to black. That doesn't make him a blacktail deer, because that is supposedly a subspecies of Mule deer, and the tail does not look like what I am going for. Mule deer have proportionately large ears, and so does Alastor. Fans like to think they're soft and fluffy, but they aren't. I have felt deer hide, and it is NOT soft. I doubt it would be significantly different on live deer. Especially if it's anything like goats or cows(not even sheep are as soft as you'd expect). Deer ears are not positioned as low on the head as domestic livestock, but they aren't directly on top either. I wanted to maintain the upright position, because he didn't quite look right otherwise. I think I managed to get a decent balance. When he's particularly relaxed, his ears aren't as upright, but he rarely lets himself put his guard down like that. So it's basically just when he sleeps that they relax. His antler growth will vary based on a few different factors. When he is feeling confident and composed, the growth will be more typical to either of the three species. Whitetail or mule deer antlers will be more elegant, while elk antlers will be more intimidating due to the sheer size. But the more emotionally/mentally unhinged he gets(anger, fear, desperation, etc), the more nontypical his antlers will become. Which means there will be extra points in abnormal patterns. It's basically an indicator that he's not quite in control. He hates how it basically announces that, but very few people know that detail.

Anyway, here are a few references

--Life and Death-- For simplicity and easy math, I'm putting his birthday around 1900, give or take a year. He died 1933, which means he was around 32-34. Not very old, but not super young either. Lots of fans headcanon that he's biracial. Usually with a black Creole mom and white dad. His dad is often portrayed as abusive. Alastor is often thought to be fluent in French(Creole French). I want to propose an alternative. His mom is half-black half-white, his dad is white, and Alastor is consequently a quarter black. He is distinctly white-passing. He knows some Creole French, but is not fluent. I just think this could make for some interesting dynamics. Just to shake things up, his parents cared about each other and his dad wasn't abusive. But his father died in WW1, when Alastor was a teen. Instead, his uncle(father's brother) was racist and abusive towards them. Without his dad around to fend off the abuse, Alastor ended up killing his uncle in self defense and dumped the body in the woods/swamp/bayou. He had no remorse, and was rather enamored by the experience. Alastor always struggled with empathy. He was the type of kid to kill animals out of curiosity, and was fascinated by it. He felt more alive when watching the life fade from their eyes. His dad taught him to hunt, and he enjoyed the thrill of catching prey. A big part of hunting is understanding the prey's behavior and manipulating them. His parents taught him not to hurt other people, but after killing his uncle that went out the window. He justified it by "hunting" people he decided deserved it, in some twisted sense of vigilante justice. Really, he was just looking for an excuse. He primarily used guns(rifles for a clean kill, shotgun for efficiency, pistols "just in case" an unexpected opportunity presents itself) and knives for a real hands on experience. But in the end, if it got the job done, it could be used. He dabbled in magic and demonic deals while he was alive. He has a pop-culture-voodoo aesthetic, such as dolls that are connected to people and such. But I won't refer to it as voodoo, because I don't want to misrepresent actual voodoo. I will just call it shadow magic and be making up my own rules. More on it later. Radio was a comparatively mundane part of his life. It was his more relaxing pastime. He'd broadcast anything he liked. News, gossip, music, jokes, whatever. He could talk for hours, and his charisma was captivating to listeners. He did live shows too. An open mic was free game. While not aiming to be a musician, he was a decent pianist. He liked saxophone too. He preferred to dance though, and not many could keep up with him, even after some whiskey or rye. He died after being attacked by a rabid dog. He survived the attack, but contracted rabies, which there is no cure for. It attacks the central nervous system and fries the brain. Once symptoms appear, it's a death sentence. He went mad, and a fellow hunter put him out of his misery by shooting him in the head. He thinks it's an embarrassing way to die, so he's told a few alternate stories, sometimes with a grain of truth. He's amused by the gossip and speculation. Nobody knows the true story. These stories include the usual headcanons floating around. Let me explain why I don't like the usual death headcanons Mauled by hunting dogs- Hunting dogs are not supposed to kill the prey, just help the hunter find and catch them. A hunting dog that bites the prey might spoil the meat. To have a whole pack do that means those are horribly trained dogs. I don't buy it. Mistaken for a deer and shot by a hunter- Hunters should not shoot anything if they aren't certain of what it is. Otherwise they risk shooting something they don't have a permit for. At minimum, they should be checking to be sure they are aiming at a buck or a doe. To mistakenly kill a person is absurd. Also, to hit perfectly in the center of the forehead?? That had to have been intentional.

He started killing overlords partly because he could, and partly because they meet his criteria for "deserving it". He remained anonymous about it at first for a few reasons: 1. it was how he worked as a serial killer in life. 2. He enjoyed the thrill of the hunt and getting away without getting caught. 3. Watching everyone panic about the mysterious overlord killer while totally unaware it was him(seemingly unassuming) was amusing. Eventually, the novelty of anonymity wore off(partly because there weren't many consequences to getting caught like there would be in life) and he revealed himself as the mystery killer. Then he enjoyed the reputation and Overlord status. Eventually, being feared bored him too. So now he has to find some new games to play, which is where the Hazbin Hotel comes in.

--Fashion:1920s-30s-- Clothes: Men's outfits typically consisted of a shirt, waistcoat/vest, jacket, trousers with belt or suspenders, and potentially an overcoat if weather permits. If it was cold, I think he'd wear a black overcoat, to reference his earlier designs. I had to shorten the jacket a smidge, because they usually wouldn't be as long as in canon. Unless that's supposed to be his overcoat(in which case it shouldn't be so form fitting) The jacket lapels would generally be pretty wide. The pant legs would also be wide. Some of the pant styles could get rather absurd by todays standards. The basic idea was loose and boxy. The jacket, vest, and pants would be the same color if it could be afforded. But for the sake of visual interest, I've decided to ignore that. Neckties were more common than bowties. But that's more just an excuse for me to reduce the ridiculous number of bowties the show has. Belts were starting to become prevalent, especially in America. Since my research indicated that hunting clothes would use belts, never suspenders, I figured Alastor would favor belts. While hunting, he'd were a buffalo plaid shirt, a hunting cap, and some silly looking pants that were wide at the thighs, reinforcement around the seat and knees, and tight from the knee down, with either boots, gaiters(a shoe/calf cover to help keep clothes clean, similar to spats), or puttees(leg wraps that do the same thing, as well as provide support).

Monocles were used as a portable option for reading glasses, and not worn constantly. They were used to correct farsightedness, not nearsightedness. But they were fading in popularity, in part due to the association with prominent German leaders during WW1. Basically, I don't think the monocle suited Alastor.

Hair: I headcanon that his hair is actually fur. And as I said earlier, deer fur is not soft. It's pretty coarse and wiry. He probably sheds a lot too. His canon haircut is atrocious, so I had to fix it. The look of the time was short sides, long top, and slicked with styling wax. I've styled his hair in what I think would be the closest approximation to 1920s-30s fashion he could manage. Since it's fur, I don't think the wax would do a whole lot for him. He makes do with an approximation of a tousle top, which is basically minimal wax and slightly disheveled. Facial hair was not really in style in the 20s, due to the availability of razors. Cleanshaven was the ideal, especially in America. If a man did sport a mustache, it would be something neatly trimmed, like a pencil mustache. (I'm not totally sold on how I've done his hair in the below image. I may add some wave to it later. Also, don't mind his gun, I just didn't feel like drawing it properly.)

--Microphones-- I think Alastor would actually stay pretty up to date with a lot of things. But most people don't really realize it because he commits to his aesthetic. In regards to technology, if it has improved functionality, and fits his vintage style, he'll go for it. For microphones, he can summon whatever kind he wants. There are a variety of styles and types to choose from. I don't have any practical experience, but I did try to figure it out to a degree. There are three basic types he'd use, and they can look vintage just fine. Dynamic/moving coil: these are durable and less sensitive to background noise. It's the only one you can trust to survive a mic drop. Good for stage. Probably what he'd take out and about, because of the durability. Condenser: sensitive to sounds and capturing detail. Good for recording. Requires some extra equipment to prevent self-noise. Ribbon: Produces natural, smooth, warm sounds. Common in vintage mics. Probably Alastor's favorite, but they're fragile. Pop filters and wind guards help protect it from pressure changes.

--Color-- I tweaked the colors so he wasn't so overwhelmingly bright red. Overall just darkened his palette. His hair is a warmer shade of red than his suit. I also didn't think the green magic suited him. So his magic is more in the red to yellow range, because it matches his eyes and teeth(which glow, btw). Green will be an indication of either something poisoning his magic, or it's a borrowed power. I haven't fully committed to just one, and it might depend on what direction canon takes with his soul owner.

--Magic-- His stitching is an indicator that he's not really as composed as he seems. He's always a few threads away from tearing apart, but when he does he can always pull himself together again. He's in constant pain, but has also become so accustomed to it that he hardly notices anymore. I think he stitched his smile on himself. He wants to be smiling, and sewing it in place is how he can assure it never slips. It's part of his pseudo-voodoo aesthetic. Alastor was known to make overlords disappear, which shouldn't be possible without angelic weapons. But few people knew about angelic weapons before the show(himself included, I'm pretty sure). So I was left to ponder what he could have done to make victims disappear. I'm thinking the little shadow puppet gremlin creatures are the tattered remains of souls he's torn apart. I don't want to refer to them as voodoo dolls, so they will either be called variations of shadow puppets or gremlins. He usually offers fair deals, with or without a soul contract. Souls he owns--like Husk and Niffty--are added to his collection of minions, each minion has a gremlin that represents their contracts with him. But there are some that Alastor feels don't deserve fair treatment, so he tears those souls apart to broadcast their screams of eternal torment, then claims the remains of the tattered souls(whether he had a contract with them or not) and stitches them up into the shadow puppets. That way, they don't regenerate. Husk was lucky Alastor liked him, and offered a deal instead of just tearing him apart. Again, I don't want to misrepresent actual voodoo. So at most, it would be a corrupt version mixed with various pagan witchcrafts. It will just be referred to as either generic magic or shadow magic. If I need spooky symbols, I'll just make up my own. It will probably involve X shapes, to match his death mark. He became a powerful demon so quickly because he's clever, ruthless, and dabbled in magic in life, and was making demonic deals in life. Already having deals and practicing shadow magic gave him a significant boost once he died.

Some examples of his shadow puppet gremlins, plus his personal shadow buddy, which may or may not be the gremlin that represents himself:

--Wendigo-- No, I don't think he'd a wendigo. I personally don't think he was a cannibal while he was alive. He was a hunter who enjoyed the thrill of the hunt and liked venison(deer meat). The people he killed would be those he found disgusting, so I doubt he would have wanted to eat them even if he was so inclined. After death, he became venison himself, which can be perceived as cannibalism, I guess. He was cursed with insatiable hunger, which prompted him to branch out to more cannibalism from desperation. He still favors venison, which gets the closest to satisfying his hunger. Being dead has made him less concerned about cleanliness and hygiene, except when it affects the image he wants to portray. Then he became acquainted with Rosie, who was a cannibal in life. None of this makes him a wendigo. The concept of a man-eating monster or cannibalism isn't exactly unique, and I don't see a reason to apply that specific term to him. The original mythology of the wendigo does not include an antlered creature. I'm pretty sure that was more of a pop-culture addition during the 1900s. They're also more common further north where there are colder winters. Most descriptions say they are essentially ashen-skinned, emaciated-looking people(look at the game Until Dawn for a good example of that). Coincidentally more similar to the people of Cannibal Town. I doubt that was intentional, but the resemblance is still there. If any character was a wendigo, it would be Rosie. But I don't intend to explicitly make her one either.

[hinakazino]

⏳ REX LAPIS & THE MORTAL ⌛️

warnings: pure angst, hanaki disease referenced, zhongli struggling between friendship and love (?), unrequited love, maybe requited if you squint.

Zhongli not knowing how to feel when you confess your love for him. He can't lie, you're quite bold, a mortal daring to express their admiration so valiantly to their god. However, his heart is already taken by another.

Zhongli, or better yet Morax still remises about her. The long lost god of dust, with her soft grey silky locks billowing in the wind, her kind eyes and smile as she greeted him to discuss another of her inventions. Her silhouette atop a mountain in her signature dress and star-imbued sleeves. Zhongli's eyes have a look of gentleness in them you've noticed when she is in his mind. Honestly, you're already grateful enough to be this close to the Rex Lapis, the Geo Archon. You're but a human who managed to capture the hearts of the adepti with your kind nature, happy energy, and curiosity.

But even with all this, you long for more. You wish for the gaze of not just your archon's closest companions but him himself. It is a cruel thing, you're aware, humans and their untamable desires. In the end you ended up confessing, on the basis of not wanting to lie to your god and also why not? It was a horrid mistake.

After a moment of awkward silence, Morax's eyes once soft seemed to have an empty glare. Filled with disgust, anger, disappointment? You wouldn't know, all you registered that day was him telling you to leave and not get wrapped up in fantasies as a human.

That should've been the end of it, is what you thought, and what Zhongli thought. Nonetheless you proved to both yourself and him that it seems humans are quite stubborn. Despite the obvious pain that weighed on your heart from rejection you continued asking for his hand.

Before you had voiced it with the intent of being his equal. Which you soon realized wouldn't suffice. Zhongli wasn't one to sugarcoat his words, "Guizhong, she was the one meant for me. There is no one who can replace her in Liyue and in all of Teyvat. Do not test my patience, you've already stirred up less than pleasant memories little one".

Perhaps you had too much hope, as soon you began degrading yourself to the point you'd offered your hand in marriage not as an equal, but as a worshipper. To this, Zhongli had escorted you to the Guizhong ballista, where he proceeded to explain quite fondly the creator of said machine.

Maybe even Morax himself realized what a heartstabbing punishment this was. Having you listen to him ramble on and on for half an hour about her before ending with the point that this is exactly the key difference between you and Guizhong.

"You have to understand, you are but a mortal, she was a goddess. Your affections would be better directed elsewhere. This is the last I will tolerate this, I bid you a good day".

Zhongli should've been happy, because after that day your presence was nowhere to be found. Well, not exactly, although you had stopped visiting the adepti's and performing your standard rituals for him. The Geo Archon was well aware of all who resided in Liyue and knew you were still there too.

Could it be potentially you had broken into the Geo Archon's heart? No, that was impossible, all he did was feel pity for you obviously. "Why do I keep imagining the impossible..." you repeated to yourself, sitting inside the comfort of your room as you glanced out your window at the lovely scenery outside.

But you knew that even a persons state of mind could change how they perceived the world and right now everything just felt dull. The only memory present in your mind was replaying itself over and over again, it wasn't pleasant.

You're quite certain you'd confessed to Rex Lapis more than 50 times now, pretty much 5 years or more in your life. Yet his last message to you that day was the final straw.

It was so very frustrating, how your feelings towards him just wouldn't go away. You had attempted to build other romantic relationships to no avail. It was suffocating that your emotions just wouldn't disappear, they just couldn't be buried.

Oh but they can, you thought to yourself suddenly, and afterwards your last thought was to find true love in your next lifetime. As on a cool and calm night, you had laid yourself to rest.

The next day, no particular day really. Randomly out of the blue, Zhongli had heard of you once again after you distanced yourself from him.

It confused him, his adepti didn't dwell on his love life much. It was no secret they knew you harbored affections for him. However, that wasn't the reason why he found them all gathered here today.

As he approached them, his fellow adepti had parted a path so he could see for himself the cause of commotion. There, laying on a soft cushion was you.

Lifeless. Dry. Your eyes were softly shut, your face devoid of any emotion with the exception of a small titled smile on your face. But even that Zhongli could tell may have perhaps been his adepti's doing as part of their little ceremony for you. It became quite obvious then that you had decided to end your life due to the pain. Or, maybe the pain had ended you because no one could ignore the obvious flower that now sprouted from your chest. Bright and lovely, standing proud with petals that glowed amber like Cor Lapis.