#something something estrangement from your aspect

[aleksatia]

🖤 Sylus – Five Years Later

The first in a series of stories exploring MC’s return after five years of silence. Others are coming soon — links will be added as they’re published.

Original ask that sparked this continuation.

CW/TW: emotional whiplash, estranged parent dynamics, mentions of past abandonment, grief & regret, yelling / intense arguments, emotional manipulation (mild-to-moderate), parental guilt, references to alcoholism (brief), weapon mention (non-violent context, antique firearm), implied past trauma While inspired by the original characters and lore of the game, this is a personal interpretation. Some aspects of character behavior, relationships, or world-building may differ from canon — especially given the five-year time gap and the impact of traumatic events. Consider it an alternate emotional timeline, shaped by growth, grief, and what-ifs.

Rafayel | Caleb | Zayne | Xavier (coming soon)

(He never lets go. Not really. So when the world bends just enough for their paths to cross again—he grabs the thread like a man who’s been drowning for five goddamn years.)

The scent shouldn’t have hit him like that.

Bergamot and peach — too specific to be coincidence, too cruel to be real. It lanced through the mall’s artificial air, slicing straight into the part of him that had learned to rot in silence.

He stopped mid-step, black gift bag swinging at his side like dead weight. He hadn’t meant to be here. Just killing time before a meeting, maybe grabbing some pointless toy for Kieran’s son.

But that scent.

He followed it — not fast, not frantic. Just... pulled. Like gravity had shifted without asking his permission.

He rounded a corner. Walked past the blinding colors of a candy kiosk. Ignored the buzzing arcades. Stepped into the glow of the children’s department, bathed in too much light.

And then he saw him.

White hair, soft and unbrushed. Crimson eyes.

Staring down at a plastic capsule, tiny fingers struggling to pry it open, cheeks puffed in sheer, adorable defiance. The boy looked up and grinned at someone just out of view.

And then—there you were.

Crouched beside him, arms around your knees. That necklace still at your throat. Your hair longer. Your posture calmer. But it was you.

He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

You looked up. Met his eyes.

The world didn’t fall apart. It just... recoiled.

Your lips parted. He couldn’t tell if it was shock or guilt. Maybe both.

He took a step forward. Controlled. Precise. Like walking through fire and pretending it didn’t burn.

“Well,” he said, voice rough, cool, razor-sharp. “Isn’t this adorable.”

You didn’t answer.

He tilted his head, gaze dragging from the boy to you.

“You got taller,” he added, tone almost conversational. “I always said you needed better posture.”

Still, silence.

He smiled — the wrong kind of smile.

“And here I thought you were dead. Would’ve sent flowers. Or a bottle of wine. Maybe danced on your grave. Depends on the day.”

You stood slowly, one hand resting lightly against the child’s back. Protective. Subtle.

“I wasn’t hiding from you,” you said.

“No?” he murmured. “Just... the rest of reality?”

You didn’t answer that.

His eyes dropped again. To the boy. Then back up. He didn’t ask. Not out loud. Didn’t have to.

Your expression answered for you.

He exhaled once, slow, through his nose. Then laughed. Just a little.

“Of course,” he muttered. “Why not. Five years of silence, and now I get the full soap opera.”

He took another step, voice dipping low.

“Tell me something,” he said. “Was it worth it? The running? The silence? Did it help you sleep?”

You stared at him, steady.

“I did what I had to do.”

“Sure,” he said, nodding, the sarcasm now soft, silky. “And now you’re back in broad daylight, in my city, with my blood standing in front of capsule machines. Very covert.”

His fingers twitched slightly at his side. Not from rage — from restraint.

The boy turned.

“Mom?”

Your breath hitched.

“Come here, sweetheart.”

Small feet padded over. A tiny hand found yours without hesitation. Sylus watched it like a punch to the ribs.

The boy blinked up at him.

“Who’s that?” he asked.

Your voice was quiet. Even.

“Someone I used to know.”

Something in Sylus’s jaw clicked. He crouched down, not too close. Not yet.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi,” the boy replied.

“What’d you get?”

A capsule was held up proudly. “Tiny raven with red eyes!”

Of course. Sylus stared at it, almost amused.

“Good taste,” he said. “I used to have one just like that.”

The boy beamed.

Sylus rose to his full height again, gaze flicking to you — sharp now, cooled over, dangerous.

“This conversation’s not over.”

Your grip on the boy tightened, imperceptibly.

“I know.”

He didn’t linger. Just turned. Walked away like it cost him nothing.

But you saw it — the slight tremble in his fingers. And for the first time in five years — you knew: he wouldn't sleep tonight. And neither would you.

***

He doesn’t sleep. Not because of nightmares — those he’s made peace with years ago — but because of you. Because you were real again. Present. Breathing the same air. And now the silence he once ruled feels like a cage made of your absence.

He paces his study like an animal too big for its den, the whiskey glass untouched on the desk, sweating against the dark wood. The documents in front of him blur, ignored. His body is wired, restless, his mind clawing at thoughts it doesn’t know what to do with. He used to find solace in this room. Now it’s just another echo chamber.

You came back. Just like that. No warning. No apologies. As if you hadn’t torn him apart and scattered the pieces across five fucking years. And you didn’t come alone. You brought his son.

His son.

The words twist inside him like a blade. Rage flares hot and sharp — not just at you, but at himself. At the way he still aches for you. At the way his hands trembled the moment your eyes met his. You don’t get to come back like this. Not after he worshipped you. Not after he handed over every part of himself — the power, the silence, the vulnerability — and let you keep it like it was nothing.

You, who once ruled him with a smile and a whisper. You, who made the most dangerous man in the city gentle. You, who he let in so deeply that even now, after everything, his instincts still tilt toward you.

He should hate you. He wants to.

But all he can think about is the boy’s eyes — his eyes — and the fact that he didn’t know. You hid it from him. You stole that from him. And yet, the second he saw your face, all he wanted was to feel the warmth of your body again.

No. This can’t be impulsive. He tells himself that. Over and over. He has to be careful now. Strategic. This isn’t just about you anymore. There’s too much at stake. A child. Blood of his blood. If he moves wrong, if he rushes this, he could lose everything before he’s even had the chance to hold it.

You came back so openly, so carelessly — as if you knew. As if you were daring him to act.

But this isn’t a reunion. It’s a chess game. And he intends to win.

Still, all the logic in the world can’t stop the pull. His body moves before his mind can catch it. He throws on his jacket, crosses the hall in long, deliberate strides. He ignores the way his pulse hammers, the way his breath shortens. He tells himself this is reconnaissance. Observation. That he won’t knock on your door, won’t say your name, won’t touch you.

But he’s already walking to the car, and he knows — he’s lying.

Because it’s already too late. You’re a gravity he never escaped. And he’s hurtling back toward you like a star on its last, burning descent.

***

You hadn’t heard the door. You were sure you’d locked it — triple-checked, in fact. But when you stepped barefoot into the living room, the shadows shifted. And he was there.

Sylus.

Sitting in the armchair by the window, so still he might’ve been carved from shadow. His face half-hidden in darkness, but his eyes — those eyes — watched you with the slow, dangerous heat of banked coals. As if he were waiting for something. As if he’d already decided what it was.

You clutched your son’s sweatshirt to your chest, still warm from sleep, still soft with safety. Your fingers curled into the fabric like it might shield you from the inevitable.

Your throat closed around a breath you forgot to take.

“I should’ve known you’d find a way in,” you said. Not angry. Not even surprised. Just… tired. But not the kind of tired sleep could fix.

The silence stretched. And then—

“Why.” His voice was low. Steady. But there was nothing calm about it.

“Why come back?”

You hesitated. Sat down at the edge of the couch, careful to keep distance between you. Close enough to feel the tension, far enough to pretend it couldn’t touch you. Your grip tightened on the tiny sleeve in your lap.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you said quietly.

A lie. And you both knew it.

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just watched.

The air between you hung thick with everything unspoken — all the years, all the damage, all the silence that had grown teeth.

You tried again, voice thinner now. “Money was running out. And I didn’t want him to grow up in places that... don’t let kids be kids.”

Still no answer.

You looked down, as if the floor could save you.

“But that’s not really why I came back.”

There was a shift in the dark — barely perceptible, but enough. A muscle in his jaw, maybe. Or the faintest tilt of his head.

“I kept dreaming,” you said. “That he’d start asking questions. About who he is. Where he came from. Why he can hear footsteps down the hall before they happen. Why his teachers can’t meet his eyes. Why he knows when I’m lying, even when I don’t.”

You paused. Swallowed.

“I didn’t know what I’d say.”

For a long, breathless moment, there was nothing. And then:

“Thought maybe I was dead?”

You laughed — bitter, small, nothing like real humor.

“No. That would’ve been easier.”

He still didn’t move, but something in the room recoiled anyway. Maybe it was you.

You turned toward him, carefully, like stepping toward a storm you once loved.

“I thought if I stayed gone long enough, you’d forget. Or hate me enough not to care.”

He leaned forward slowly, like something waking up. The light from the hallway carved across his face, catching the sharp edge of his cheekbone, the faint scar at his jaw. He looked older. Not in his body — in his bones. In the way ruin settles behind the eyes and builds a kingdom there.

“Do I look like a man who forgets?” he said.

God, the way he said it. Like the last bell before a burial.

You didn’t answer.

“You ran,” he said. “Took my son. Hid him from me. For five years.”

“I had to,” you said, a little too fast. “You know I had to.”

“Say it.”

You met his eyes, barely.

“I didn’t want to raise him in your world.”

There was a pause. Then:

“He is my world.”

That broke something in you. The sweatshirt slipped from your lap, forgotten.

“I know,” you whispered. “I know.”

You stood before you meant to, took two small steps forward before you could stop yourself. A mistake. A betrayal of your own walls. Still, your hand lifted — hesitated — and reached out. Just barely. Fingertips grazing the side of his.

He didn’t flinch. But he didn’t hold you back either.

Not yet.

His breath caught, brushing your wrist like memory.

“I could’ve loved you softer,” he said. “But you were never meant for soft things.”

Your eyes burned. You couldn’t speak for a moment. And when you did, your voice was almost gone.

“Maybe I’m not. But he is.”

And still, beneath all of it — the guilt, the weariness, the regret that howled behind your ribs — you waited for the part that scared you most. The part where he would turn cold. Where he would say the thing you feared since the moment you left.

The part where he would take your son from your arms and never look back.

You knew he wouldn’t hurt you. Not you. Not the boy.

And still, that fear clawed at you like a curse.

So you did what fear makes people do — you attacked. With silence, with half-truths, with distance you didn’t want. You kept the mask on as long as you could, clung to it like armor, because if it slipped — if he saw how badly you still wanted to crawl into his arms and sleep like you used to, when he would whisper in that deep, velvet voice and stroke your hair until the nightmares went quiet — he might use it against you.

He might leave.

And you… you had no idea how to survive that again.

***

The night he left, you didn’t sleep.

You just lay beside your son, one hand curled protectively around his small, warm frame, the other pressed to your chest like it might keep your ribs from collapsing inward. Every breath felt like it came with splinters. He slept soundly, unaware. Safe in a world that you had built with trembling hands and stubborn silence.

By morning, Sylus hadn’t returned.

But Luke and Kieran had.

They didn’t knock. Didn’t speak. Just entered with the quiet precision of men who used to be part of your life — before you made them ghosts.

Their arms were full. Boxes, bags, toys, medicine, books. Clothes in every size. Food you hadn’t even realized you needed. And a black card, placed on the kitchen table like a detonator.

“From him,” Luke said, voice clipped, eyes avoiding yours.

You opened your mouth. To say thank you, maybe. Or I’m sorry. Or how have you been.

But Kieran was already turning away.

“Don’t,” he muttered. Not cruel. Not cold. Just done.

And it hit you, like it hadn’t hit you until that moment — not just guilt, not just regret.

You didn’t just run from him.

You ran from them too. The only people who had ever stayed. The only ones who’d held space for you when you were nothing but sharp edges and unfinished grief.

Now they wouldn't even look at you.

You stood there, frozen, surrounded by things you didn’t ask for — abundance you hadn’t earned — while your son laughed on the floor, tangled in a new toy, as if the world wasn’t cracked beneath your feet.

You didn’t cry. You didn’t scream.

But something broke. Quietly. Deeply.

Your pride was already bleeding. Your shame had nowhere left to hide. And still, it wasn’t the card that pushed you over the edge. It wasn’t the gifts or the silence or even the anger simmering in Luke’s shoulders.

It was the absence.

It was the fact that he didn’t come himself.

That he sent others. That he kept his distance — like you were already something to be managed, not faced.

And it shouldn’t have hurt. You’d told yourself a thousand times you didn’t want to see him. That this wasn’t about him. That you didn’t need his money or his empire or the echo of what you used to be.

But the truth — the ugly, humiliating truth — was this: you didn’t want his wealth.

You wanted him.

His voice. His arms. The way he used to pull you close and whisper things that made the dark quiet. The way he used to tuck you in like a secret, like something too rare to risk losing. You wanted him. And you hated yourself for it.

So you moved before you could think. Before the fear, the shame, the rational voice could stop you.

You grabbed your coat. Your keys.

Tara, bless her, had shown up just minutes before, arms full of groceries and soft reassurances, promising to stay the night if you needed to rest. You told her you’d be gone for a few hours. That everything was fine.

You kissed your son’s head — maybe a little too long, maybe a little too tight — and walked out the door without another word.

And then you drove.

Not because you knew what you were going to say.

But because if you didn’t see him now, if you didn’t make him look at you — you might shatter into pieces too small to ever come back together.

***

His estate was still the same.

Too grand. Too silent. Still heavy with ghosts you left behind.

The guards moved aside the moment they saw your face. No hesitation. No questions. Just doors opening like jaws — welcoming you back into the mouth of a beast you once dared to call home.

You didn’t knock.

You didn’t hesitate.

You stormed into the room mid-meeting — a rupture in the polished calm — slicing through tailored suits, cigar smoke, and the tight, brutal quiet of dangerous men interrupted. Every head turned.

Including his.

Sylus sat at the head like a monarch grown colder with time. Glass in hand. Eyes unreadable. And that stillness — the kind that wasn’t calm, just leashed violence.

He saw you. Took you in.

And didn’t blink.

“Out,” he said.

Just one word. Soft. Absolute.

And the bosses of N109 — men who’d burned cities, bled kings, slaughtered empires — obeyed without a sound.

The door clicked shut behind the last of them.

You stood there. Just the two of you now. Five years of silence between your ribs. His name lodged somewhere behind your teeth.

You stepped forward, fists clenched.

“So this is how it’s going to be?” you snapped. “You send your men with toys and blank checks and think that counts? You think that makes you a father?”

He arched a brow. Slowly. And then — God help you — he laughed.

It was low. Mocking. Bone-deep with disbelief.

“You’re angry?” he said, with a cruel sort of wonder. “That’s rich.”

“I’m serious—”

“Oh, I can see that. Look at you,” he gestured to you with his glass, casual, vicious. “Marching in here like I haven’t been erased from his life. Like you didn’t take a scalpel to the past and cut me out clean. And now what — two days after a chance encounter, suddenly I’m not doing enough?”

His smile was the kind that used to make people flinch.

“What exactly were you expecting? Balloons? A welcome-home banner? Me groveling for the right to meet the child you kept hidden like some dirty secret?”

You flushed. Heat crawled up your throat.

“That’s not what I—”

“No?” he cut in, voice quieter now, colder. “Because from where I’m standing, you vanish for five years, show up with a son that wears my face, and get pissed when I don’t instantly fall into step like nothing happened.”

You stared at him, stunned. But he wasn’t done.

“You don’t get to paint me as the absentee,” he said, each word deliberate, venomous. “You built that absence. You enforced it. You chose it.”

You swallowed, but your voice cracked anyway.

“I didn’t have a choice.”

He laughed again, but there was no humor in it. Just razor-sharp ache.

“Oh, come on, kitten. You always had choices. You were the clever one, remember? The strategist. The girl who read people like maps and always knew the way out. So tell me—what part of your master plan involved disappearing with my son and calling it love?”

“I was protecting him.”

“From me?” His voice dropped, dangerously soft. “Because you thought I’d do what, exactly? Teach him how to hold a knife? Make him my little monster?”

You didn’t answer fast enough.

He stepped forward, eyes burning now.

“You don’t get to disappear, reappear, and accuse me of being a bad father in the same breath. You don’t get to bury me in silence and then demand I dance the role you left me.”

And then, softer, darker:

“You think I wanted this? To send strangers to the doorstep of the boy I didn’t even know existed?”

Your mouth opened. Nothing came out.

He stared at you — not with hate, but with something worse. Hurt twisted so deep it no longer bled. It just settled.

“You think I wouldn’t have taught him to live?”

Your lips part. No sound.

“I would’ve taught him how to breathe in a world that eats soft things alive,” he says. “I would’ve taught him how to survive it. How to carry your laugh like a shield. How to fight for it. How to protect it.”

He’s not shouting. But each word cuts deeper than a scream.

“I would’ve laid down my empire for him,” he says. “I would’ve bled for every step he took.”

He pauses — just long enough for the weight of it to hit — and then:

“But you didn’t just take him from me.”

His voice lowers, rough and hollow.

“You took me from him. You took you from us. You didn’t just rewrite the story — you burned the whole fucking book before we even had a chance to open it.”

He steps closer, and you don’t move.

“You didn’t trust me with him. Fine. But you didn’t trust me with you either. And you—” his voice catches, jaw tightening, “you didn’t even give yourself the chance to know what it could’ve been like.”

His eyes are glass now. And every word is a knife he’s too tired to stop from falling.

“You robbed all three of us.”

You try to speak, but the words catch somewhere in your throat. A hard knot of guilt and grief you can’t seem to swallow. You want to say his name. Just his name.

But before you can, his voice changes.

It’s no longer cold. No longer composed.

It’s blistering.

“Do you know what I did the day I realized you were gone?” he says — and now it’s breathless, like the memory itself is suffocating him. “Do you?”

You don’t answer. You can’t.

So he does it for you.

“I drank,” he bites. “I tore the city apart. I hunted ghosts. I played the organ until the walls bled. Until the sound felt like your scream in my skull.”

You sway. He sees it. Doesn’t care.

“I sat in your chair,” he hisses, “and begged it to creak. Just once. Just once, like you were still in it.”

Your knees buckle.

Still, he doesn’t move to catch you.

“I watched videos of you sleeping,” he says, hoarse now. “Kept that ugly little mug you always hated — because your lipstick was still on the rim.”

You cover your mouth with both hands as your breath shatters open.

“I slept in our bed fully clothed,” he whispers, “because I couldn’t let the sheets forget your shape.”

He finally takes one step forward — and then stops. Something in him splinters.

With a growl pulled straight from his chest, he turns and hurls the whiskey glass into the fireplace.

It explodes in flame and glass, the sound like a gunshot, like a scream. Fire licks up the wall as the liquor catches, dancing high and fast.

You flinch. Cover your face.

But not from fear. From shame.

You drop to your knees, hands shaking uncontrollably, sobs raking through your ribs. You can’t see through the tears anymore, and your voice is barely there when you whisper—

“I didn’t know how to love you without losing myself.”

There’s silence for a beat. The kind that hurts worse than screaming.

Then his voice — softer now. Almost gentle. Still raw.

“Kitten,” he says. “Was I really such a monster that you had to vanish with a newborn? Cage yourself in pain and loneliness for five years?”

You can’t look up.

“Did it help?” he asks. “Did it ever help?”

Your voice comes out choked.

“No... no,” you cry. “It felt like I was dying every second. I called for you every night. I prayed you’d come.”

He exhales sharply through his nose.

“Maybe your pride didn’t let you call loud enough.”

His words hit like lashes — and they’re meant to. You hear the fury under them. The wound he’s trying to cauterize with cruelty.

“And now what?” he snaps. “You think I’ll just let you use me again? Let you touch me again? And then vanish with my son all over again? Is that the plan?”

“Sylus, please...”

Your voice cracks as the sobs take over. The panic. The helplessness. You’re unraveling at the seams.

“Please don’t do this. Please—” You clutch at your chest, as if trying to physically hold your heart together. “You’re cutting me open— You’re cutting me alive— I made a mistake— so many mistakes— I didn’t know how to come back— I was scared— I was so scared— I didn’t know how to fix it, I didn’t— I never— I never—”

You can’t breathe. The words collapse.

But one thing pushes through.

“I never stopped loving you.”

Everything halts.

His expression breaks. Not shatters — breaks, quietly, like a fault line slipping beneath the surface.

And then he’s moving.

Down to the floor. To you.

His knees hit the marble hard. He doesn’t feel it.

His arms are around you in the next second, pulling you in, wrapping you up like a shield against everything — even himself. Even your shared grief.

You sob into his chest, into his collar, into the hollow beneath his jaw that still smells like night and memory and danger and home. Your body convulses with it, trembling like the child you once were in his arms.

And he holds you. Tight.

Because there’s nothing else left to do.

And now, with you in his arms again — trembling, broken, real — something in him gives way.

Not all at once. Slowly. Inevitably.

You feel it before he even realizes it’s happening: the way his muscles start to loosen, the way the sharp lines of rage soften, his breath slowing against your temple as his hands begin to move. Hesitant at first. Then helpless.

He’s touching your hair — slowly, gently — like he forgot what softness felt like. His fingers slip through the strands, curl at the nape of your neck, anchor there. One hand presses against your spine, the other strokes up your back, down again, grounding you with each motion like he’s trying to memorize the shape of your grief against his skin.

Your sobs soak through his shirt, seep down to his chest, dampen his collar and slide down his neck. And he lets it happen. Welcomes the burn. Because after five years of silence, your tears feel like the only thing real.

You cling to him like the world’s collapsing again — but this time you’re dragging him into the rubble with you. Your arms around his shoulders. Your knees curled against his sides. Your legs wrapping around him like instinct. Like survival.

He doesn’t flinch.

He welcomes the ache of it. Every breathless grab. Every tremor in your limbs. Every desperate mark your body makes against his.

Because it means you’re here.

Because it means he still feels something.

And then your voice — a wrecked, shaking thing — finds its way through the ruin:

“I came back… because… because I couldn’t give him what he deserves. I tried. I tried so hard to be everything. But how can I show him joy, or love, or hope — when I live in the ashes of something beautiful I destroyed?”

Your voice cracks.

“How can I teach him love, when the only thing left in me is the bitter taste of everything I ruined?”

His arms tighten around you.

Your voice drops to a whisper.

“I know I don’t deserve forgiveness. Not now. Maybe not ever. I don’t even know how to fix myself. Let alone… heal you.”

You press your face into his chest, as if that could protect you from what you’re about to say.

“But please,” you whisper. “Please help me find the path back. What do I do? What do I say to make you stop hating me?”

There’s a pause.

A long, dangerous pause.

Then he exhales slowly — like the weight of your question cracked something inside his chest.

His lips find your temple.

Tentative. Testing.

He lingers there, breathing in the scent of you, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to want this.

Then he moves. A little bolder now.

Your hairline. The crown of your head. Your forehead. The slope of your cheek. His lips brush over each point like it’s a litany. Like he’s not kissing you, but praying through you.

He kisses your nose. Your brow. Your eyelids.

And then—your lips.

Or almost. Just close enough for his breath to mix with yours.

Each kiss a scar he’s trying to erase with his lips. Each touch a memory he’s begging not to lose again.

He doesn’t say your name.

He devours it.

“I hate that I still love you like this,” he breathes between kisses. “I hate that even now, after everything, all I want is you.”

You gasp. Half-sob.

“I hate that just being here… makes me want to forgive you.”

And then he’s kissing you, not like before. Not like memory. Not like longing.

Like a man drowning. Like someone trying to inhale every second he lost, burn it into his lungs before it’s torn away again.

You kiss him back — shattering into him, against him, with him. Arms tight. Mouth hungry. Breath wrecked.

Because this isn’t peace. This is survival.

When he finally pulls back, it’s only just enough to breathe.

His forehead presses against yours. His voice shakes.

“I’m not ready to forgive,” he says. “But I can’t go another day without trying.”

Your eyes stay closed. Your lips tremble.

“That’s all I want.”

He exhales — broken. Guttural. Human in a way he never lets himself be.

“I missed you so much it ruined me.”

And you say it — softly, clearly, the last shard of your heart finally offered:

“I came back to help you rebuild.”

***

A month later.

The dining room is too big for three people.

The chandelier still glitters like a threat. The long table could seat fifteen warlords. The silverware looks like it costs more than most apartments.

But tonight, with one small boy seated on a velvet cushion, feet not even reaching the chair rung, and a half-eaten pile of mashed potatoes in front of him — it somehow feels… livable.

You watch him with a kind of cautious awe.

He’s trying so hard to be proper. Sitting straight. Using both hands to hold the fork. Stealing glances at the towering ceilings and flickering wall sconces like they might come alive. Every now and then he glances at you — checking if he’s doing this right.

And then there’s the raven.

Mephisto — jet-black, silent, elegant — perched on the edge of a nearby armchair, watching your son like a curious god. Your boy is enchanted. He keeps whispering questions at him, occasionally offering a green bean as tribute.

Mephisto doesn’t flinch. Just cocks his head like he’s listening.

You’re barely touching your food. Too busy memorizing.

The way your son laughs softly at the bird. The way the candlelight flickers against the long mahogany floors. The quiet.

God, the quiet.

You don’t realize you’ve zoned out until footsteps echo down the hall.

Sylus appears in the doorway — sleeves rolled, collar undone, a worn copy of Somewhere in the Sky in one hand.

“He’s out,” he says, voice low, warm. “Fought it like a gladiator. I barely survived.”

You smile.

He crosses the room, setting the book on the sideboard. Loosens his shoulders like someone still unused to relaxing.

“Apparently,” he adds, deadpan, “the only thing he truly cares about in this mansion is the antique rifle mounted over the fireplace.”

Your blood runs cold.

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” he replies, reaching for the wine. “I told him if he managed to fall asleep on his own tonight, he could hold it — under supervision.”

You stare.

“Are you insane?”

He pours. Slowly. Deliberately. A touch of amusement in his eyes.

“He fell asleep in two minutes.”

He passes you a glass. You take it like it might explode. He clinks his own against yours and sits beside you.

There’s a pause. The kind that tastes like something new, but gentle.

And then, without looking at you:

“I like being a father.”

You glance over.

He’s staring into his glass. But the corner of his mouth twitches, like he almost doesn’t believe he said it out loud.

“It’s because it’s still new,” you say softly. “Still shiny.”

He shakes his head.

“No. It’s because he’s mine.”

 A beat.

“And because when he runs into a room, he doesn’t hesitate. Like he belongs there.”

Your throat catches. You take a sip of wine just to avoid answering.

He leans back, drapes one arm across the back of the chair, and looks at you like he’s about to say something dangerous.

And he does.

“So.”

You blink.

“How do you feel about making a daughter?”

You choke on the wine.

He doesn’t laugh. Just smiles — that smile. The slow, calculated one that used to mean someone was about to lose a war.

“You’re not serious.”

“I’m entirely serious, kitten” he says. “We could use someone to balance out the chaos. She’d keep him in line.”

“She’d own you in three weeks.”

“I’d let her,” he says, completely unbothered.

You shake your head, laughing into your glass.

“You realize we’re barely functional as it is?”

“And yet, here we are,” he murmurs, “functioning.”

The silence that follows is soft. Safe. Domestic in a way neither of you knows what to do with.

You lean your head on his shoulder.

And for the first time in years — no one is running. No one is bleeding. No one is apologizing.

Just this: Candlelight. A boy upstairs dreaming of ravens and rifles. And the possibility — for once — of something beautiful not ending in fire.

[loveemagicpeace]

Pluto in houses & your transformation

Pluto's workings seem to represent the beginning of things and the end of things; the beginning and end of a chapter in our lives; the beginning and end of our lives.

The symbolic psychological meanings of Pluto, when exalted in a sign, house, or aspect, include transformation, transmutation, rejuvenation, revival, regeneration, exaltation, and transition. The symbolic psychological meanings of Pluto, when disabled in a sign, house, or aspect, include death, decay, destruction, carelessness, the struggle for existence, fanaticism, sensuality, adventurism, and some black magic as opposed to Saturn's ceremonial magic. The symbolic sociological meanings of Pluto include sorcerers, witches, and vampires, and people who project charisma to crowds of people, such as actors, politicians, public speakers, and propagandists. The symbolic biological meanings of Pluto include the collective consciousness, the regenerative forces of the body, the creative forces that give life. Some astrologers consider Pluto to be the ruler of the pineal gland.

Pluto in 1st house -It shows strength, courage, transformation. You will experience a lot of transformation in your life, which will have a very emotional impact on you and your personality. Your personality and appearance can change whenever you lose something. You will have to let go of many things in your life and you may struggle a lot with your ego. The person may have a robust constitution, often with an ability to recover quickly from illness or stress. However, due to Pluto's deep and transformative influence, the individual may also experience periods of dramatic shiftsin their health or energy levels. Pluto can indicate susceptibility to injuries or health challenges related to the head (such as migraines, head injuries, or mental strain) and the bones (particularly the spine or joints). Early experiences may have involved control issues or feeling the need to assert personal power in some way. This could involve transformative sexual experiences or relationships that allow the individual to explore deeper emotional or psychological themes, whether through travel or meeting new people who push them out of their comfort zone.

Pluto in 2nd house- You will experience a lot of transformation through money, material things. Your inner feelings can be very strong and you can experience your surroundings very strongly. Your memory can be good but things leave a more emotional impression on you than a mental one. With memories tied to physical objects, family heirlooms, or places of significance. In some cases, the person may collect things out of emotional need or as a way to exert control over their environment.It will rarely happen that you will borrow money from others, you also do not talk much about it and can be very private when it comes to your finances. You can find comfort in intimacy or a strong emotional connection. You are a person who gives a lot but if you lose what you have given or if someone betrays you, it is difficult to trust again. The person may receive large inheritances that radically change their life, but the process might come with deep psychological challenges or conflicts regarding the use or management of that wealth.

Pluto in 3rd house-You can have a strong connection with your siblings or you can be very estranged from them. Here you can have siblings who can be jealous of you or are more intense, possessive. Your travels can be very transformative and can completely change the way you view the world, you can live away from your family for a long time. At some point in your life you may have to separate from your siblings due to moving, which can be very difficult for you. Siblings usually live somewhere far away. You have very strong opinions and like to explore topics that are deeper. Moving away from home is usually transformative and can also bring you difficult goodbyes. Many times moving can be emotional.

Pluto in 4th house- The relationship with your mother can be intense and your mother can have a big impact on you and your development. You may have a mother who is more possessive and controlling. Your mother may also have psychological problems at some point and you may be by her side a lot. The home may be in a darker neighborhood or somewhere more secluded, lonely or private. Your childhood and home environment may have been deeply transformative, possibly marked by power struggles, secrets, or emotional upheavals. There could be a dominant or controlling parent, or you may have felt like you had to protect yourself emotionally. Your family may have strong karmic ties, and you could feel a sense of duty to break generational patterns.

Pluto in 5th house- Your love life is anything but casual. Relationships can be obsessive, passionate, or transformative. You attract powerful or intense partners and might go through major changes in your romantic experiences. You express yourself with depth and intensity. Your art or creativity could have a dark, mysterious, or taboo element. If you have children, they could be a major source of transformation in your life. There may be power struggles or deep karmic connections.You might be drawn to high-risk, high-reward situations, whether in love, creativity, or even gambling. Passion is all or nothing. Pluto intensifies the need to gamble with life’s pleasures. There’s a strong urge for risk-taking, and gambling can become an outlet for this desire. The intense nature of Pluto could also manifest in gambling as an obsessive or addictive behavior.

Pluto in 6th house- Your routines are very strict and planned. You like to stick to a certain routine. You can become obsessed with your body or the way it looks and have a need to constantly change your body. You can have pets that change your life and have a strong influence on you. The death of a pet can be very painful and emotionally transformative. You tend to have a strong attachment to animals and are reluctant to trade one animal for another if you lose it. Work can change.Pluto in the 6th may indicate that marriage brings responsibilities, obligations, or power struggles that directly affect work and daily life. A partner might have control over work choices, either through direct influence (e.g., financial dependence) or indirectly (e.g., responsibilities in the marriage limiting career flexibility). If Pluto is negatively aspected, marriage could bring health issues due to stress, emotional burdens, or even legal restrictions related to work and location.Avoid toxic work environments. 

Pluto in 7th house- Marriage can be very transformative for you and bring about many changes. You usually have a partner who can have a great influence on you and you can learn a lot and transform emotionally through the relationship. The end of a relationship can be very painful and transformative for you, you can become a different person after that. The partner is usually intense, strong, very protective, can also be jealous,powerful, dominant, mysterious, or deeply transformative in some way. If connected to the 6th house or 12th house, health problems could be deep-rooted, chronic, or related to psychological/emotional trauma. The person may experience conflicts with doctors, hospitals, or medical treatments, needing to take control of their own healing process. The father may experience power struggles, hidden conflicts, or legal issues in later years. Mother may remarry or go through an intense personal transformation due to relationships in later years.

Pluto in 8th house-Here is a pluto in your house, which means it is more exposed to strong changes that will change your life. Pluto here can bring large inheritances, but often through dramatic or intense circumstances (family conflicts, legal battles, hidden assets). This placement naturally enhances psychic abilities, astral projection, and connections to the spirit world. Pluto in the 8th often makes a person fascinated with the occult, life after death, and deep esoteric knowledge. The native might deal with banking, stocks, loans, insurance, or business partnerships where power dynamics play a key role. Pluto here suggests that an aunt or uncle of the same sex may have intense experiences while traveling abroad, possibly involving financial, legal, or spiritual transformations. Many people with this placement experience near-death experiences (NDEs), strong premonitions about death, or a natural understanding of life’s transitions.

Pluto in 9th house- show long journeys to places that are more realistic, dark, and perhaps even dangerous. You  may be drawn to esoteric knowledge, secret teachings, hidden wisdom, or alternative education paths.  You might start with one field and completely change direction due to a life-altering event. You may experience culture shock, karmic encounters, or major transformations in a foreign land. You may experience a spiritual crisis that forces you to question everything you once believed. The person may gain money, power, or recognition through psychic work, astrology, or spiritual guidance. The parent of the opposite sex (father in a female’s chart, mother in a male’s chart) may experience major health crises, surgeries, or hidden illnesses. This parent might be a powerful influence in the native’s spiritual or philosophical development. Love relationships may involve people from different cultures, long-distance relationships, or karmic soul connections.

Pluto in 10th house- Maybe you always felt like your father had control over you or some kind of pressure from him. Government figures or other authoritative persons may be significant throughout the native’s life, either as mentors, power figures, or adversaries. There can be karma to resolve with authority figures, especially in the professional realm. Fame may come through overcoming significant challenges or gaining recognition for powerful work, leadership, or radical innovations. There may be ego challenges or times when the native’s pride and personal identity are tested by external forces(bosses, the government, public opinion). The death of the spouse could involve secrets, power struggles, or unresolved issues that require deep healing.

Pluto in 11th house-friendships are likely to be intense, transformative, and karmic.The native may attract friends who are powerful, mysterious, or transformative, or they may themselves be a transformative influence on their social circles. At times, the native may feel the need to let go of certain friends who no longer align with their path or whose influence feels controlling or manipulative. There could be an intense magnetism for certain types of experiences, hobbies, or items, possibly drawn to things that have a transformative or deeper meaning (e.g., items with a mystical or esoteric nature). They could spend money on social causes, innovative ideas, or group projects, often going all-in on what they believe in. There could be hidden opportunities for financial gain, career advancement, or personal growth through international connections. These agreements may involve powerful business partnerships, karmic connections, or even the transformation of beliefs and ideals when dealing with people from different cultural backgrounds. The native and their spouse may experience life-changing events or power struggles together, particularly when it comes to shared interests or future dreams.

Pluto in 12th house- This placement encourages self-help and self-healing, as the native has to confront the deepest, hidden aspects of their psyche. Opening up to others, particularly in terms of vulnerability, is a significant challenge for Pluto in the 12th house. The person might face losses that force them to confront the impermanence of life and to let go of attachments, but these events will also ultimately lead to rebirth. Pluto's influence in this house often signals emotional intensity, secret attachments, or unresolved issues from the pastthat come to the surface and cause the relationship to dissolve. The native may feel fated to experience psychic or spiritual awakenings in a place away from home, or they may undergo a deep psychological transformation while abroad. Living or working in a foreign country can help the person break free from the limitations of their past or ancestral patterns. Sleep can be a time of dreams and psychic experiences, and the individual may experience unusual dreams, often related to spiritual matters or psychological healing. The person may have a strong psychic intuition, an attraction to esoteric teachings, and a propensity for spiritual awakening. The native is often deeply connected to their soul's purpose and may feel an inner calling to undergo intense spiritual growth.

-Rebekah🧜🏻‍♀️🌊

[fawnforevergone]

The Ultimate List of Dante References in Hozier's "Unreal Unearth" !!

Hello and welcome to my new-and-updated ultimate compilation of all 'Inferno' references I found in Hozier's new album! If I think of anything else, or if anyone else suggests something, I will be sure to add it, but, for now, enjoy this ridiculously long (you've been warned) list I made!

Since I didn't wanna make a post for every individual song and spam you all, the songs are separated by their respective circles! I hope that organises stuff a bit more :]

Usual disclaimer: I could be wrong about some stuff! I've read 'Inferno' and try to stick to the objective references, but sometimes I let subjective interpretation bleed through. If anyone has any corrections for anything, just lmk!! Okay, cool <3

DESCENT:

"De Selby (Part 1)"

We start the album not in the circles, but instead at the Gates of Hell. One of the main themes of Inferno is darkness, and these first two songs are embodiments of that.

The lyrics mention the idea of this being a "new empty space", suggesting that Hozier is being introduced to the feeling of Inferno through the relationship he's singing about, and, so, we begin the descent.

"The likes of a darkness so deep that God at the start couldn't bear." God is obviously a large theme of Inferno and is, biblically, the creator of light, hence the absence of it in Inferno. In fact, the first three stanzas all reference the heavy darkness of the threshold and its estrangement from God.

The Irish/Gaeilge lyrics roughly translate to: "Although you're bright and light, you arrive to me like night fall. You and I, together. You and I, metamorphized. Although you're bright and light, you arrive to me like night fall. The art of transformation is a dark art." The imagery of light and dark mixing together mimics the idea of walking from the brightness of Earth into the darkness of Inferno.

This entire album appears to be the recounting of a relationship and how it feels like walking through Inferno. Here we see the beginning of this relationship, of Hozier losing himself to the threshold.

"De Selby (Part 2)"

Part one appeared to be the step through the gates, whereas part two seems to be Hozier being enveloped by the threshold. In 'Inferno', Dante says the entrance to Hell is a darkness that no stars could shine in. We hear this shift from Earth to Unearth through the production alone; the weightlessness of part one falling into the heavy grunge of part two.

"Your heart, love, has such darkness, I feel it in the corners of the room." The theme of dark continues, as it will through the entire album, but, this time, Hozier feels it radiating from within his lover rather than the space around them. Though, him saying his lover carries darkness is not an insult. This extra depth to his lover is something more to know, something more to love. This idea actually differs from Dante, who sees the darkness as deceitful.

"I want to be so far from sight and mind." Inferno is a lawless place. He would be far from sight due to the darkness, and far from mind due to the insanity that persists within the circles.

"Let all time slow, let all light go." This lyric shows me that he has been submerged in the threshold. Again, the lack of light, but also the slowing of time. Punishment after death is eternal, something that time has no grasp on. Hozier is willing to let these aspects take a hold of him.

"I'd still know you not being shown you, I'd only need the workin' of my hands." Christianity is a heavy theme of Inferno, and this lyric plays on the proverb 'Idle hands are the devil's workshop', a proverb Hozier also hinted at in his song "No Plan" (from 'Wasteland, Baby!') - "My heart is thrilled by the still of your hand."

Now, though, Hozier's hands aren't idle, instead the opposite, his hands are working as God intended. Drawing us back to that idea we were given at the end of part one, we get the feeling that Hozier is bringing something light/Godly to Inferno, and he and his lover are fusing the ideas of Heaven/Earth and Hell.

FIRST (LIMBO):

"First Time"

We now enter circle number one, 'Limbo'. Limbo is an uneventful circle for those not worthy of punishment but also not fit for Heaven. It is mainly for those who do not believe in God, the unbaptised.

Firstly, to get to circles, Dante and his guide, Virgil, must be chaperoned by the Greek Psychopomp Charon down the river Acheron, and we see that in Hozier's first couple stanzas.

"And the soul - if that's what you'd call it, uneasy ally of the body - felt nameless as a river, undiscovered underground." This appears to be Hozier mentioning the river Acheron, one of the five rivers of the Underworld that surround Hades, and, in 'Inferno', are used to transport the souls of the dead to their respective circles.

"The first time that you kissed me, I drank dry the river Lethe." The river Lethe is another one of the five rivers, and is one that causes anyone who drinks from it to forget everything they know. Hozier is simply saying that kissing this person wiped his mind clean, similar to the end of "De Selby (Part 1)" where he mentions partaking in a transformation.

"Some part of me died / Some part of me came alive the first time that you called me 'Baby'." Relating to the previous quote, souls that drink from the river Lethe usually do so before being reincarnated, so they forget their past life. Hozier seems to experiment with the idea of being reborn by his partner's love for him - an idea prevalent throughout his entire discography.

"To share the space with simple living things, infinitely suffering, but fighting off - like all creation - the absence of itself." This lyric tells us that we should not ignore the privilege of living just out of the fear of dying. This lyric is reminiscent of "All Things End" and the circle of Heresy. Since Limbo is home to those who don't believe in God, the theme of Heresy is a very fitting one.

SECOND (LUST):

"When I was young, I used to guess 'Are there limits to any emptiness?'" The punishment for those in Limbo is to exist eternally with the curse of a hollow, empty feeling meant to represent the lack of God in their lives. This punishment seems referenced in this lyric.

[ i ended up thinking about this song more so if you want even more "first time" content, here ya go: "first time dante references." ]

"Francesca"

Into circle number two, 'Lust', we have the story of Francesca Da Rimini, a woman Dante spoke to during his visit to circle two. Francesca fell in love with her husband's brother, Paolo, and when her husband discovered the affair he murdered them both.

Hozier seems to be singing from the perspective of Francesca/Paolo but throughout the album we see Hozier liken his lover to aspects of Inferno - darkness in "De Selby (Part 2)" or Lucifer in "Unknown / Nth" - so the story of Francesca and Paolo is fitting as another metaphor here.

"Do you think I'd give up? That this might've shook the love from me?" Even in Hell, Paolo and Francesca physically cling onto another. They do not let their death affect their love.

"My life was a storm since I was born. How could I fear any hurricane?" The punishment in Lust is an eternal storm meant to replicate the throws of passionate love - a storm also depicted in the production of the end of this song. Hozier/Francesca/Paolo says that it's impossible for them to care about this punishment when life was already as treacherous as it was.

The whole chorus emphasises the imagery of Francesca and Paolo not being able to let go of each other.

"When the heart would cease, ours never knew peace. What good what it be on the far side of things?" Francesca and Paolo lived their love secretly and anxiously, so what good would peace be in the afterlife when they've already become accustomed to difficulty?

"Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I." In the opening songs of the album, Hozier describes his lover as darkness, akin to something God cannot bear. Due to the depth of his lover, the mix of light and dark they've made, he believes Heaven would crumble beneath the weight of their relationship. That something as corrupt as Inferno is the only place suitable for them to live.

"I, Carrion (Icarian)"

Still in circle two, Hozier plays on Dante's own metaphor. In Canto 17, Dante refers to his own dread of descending Inferno to the same dread that the 'ill-fated Icarus' must've felt on his fall from the sky.

Hozier twists this, instead comparing his love to the hope Icarus must've felt as he flew towards the sun. He said, during a live show, this song is based on the idea hat Icarus never realised he fell, and woke up dead, too clouded by joy to realise what had happened.

"If the wind turns, if i hit a squall, allow the ground to find its brutal way to me." Again, we mention the storm of circle two. Lust is also said to have treacherous terrain - sharp rocks and jagged stone - that seems to be hinted at in the second half of this lyric.

"While you're as heavy as the world that you hold your hands beneath." This imagery seems reminiscent of the Greek Titan, Atlas, who holds up the Earth on his back. Dante talks about seeing Titans and Biblical Giants at the transition point of circle eight to circle nine, 'Fraud' to 'Treachery', which makes this lyric a sad hint to where Hozier will end up finding his lover; Taking the place of Lucifer in the deepest part of Inferno.

THIRD (GLUTTONY):

"Eat Your Young"

We enter the third circle of Inferno, 'Gluttony'. There are no specific references to Inferno, but the concept of gluttony is apparent. Hozier does what he frequently does throughout this album; He refuses to see the sin as "right or wrong" as Dante so stubbornly implies.

Hozier often divulges in a grey area, a spectrum or sale of severity, when it comes to the sin. Hozier's perspective seems more nuanced than Dante's, seeing sin as layered rather than objectively bad. In this specific song, he displays the different sources of hunger in humans, and where the line should be drawn.

"I'm starvin', darlin', let me put my lips to something, let me wrap my teeth around the world." We start, and reference back to in verse two, a sexual hunger, a harmless passion between two people. This is an innocent side of the sin, not deserving of the punishment of Lust which is to be ripped apart by Cerberus (the three-headed dog from Greek mythology) for all eternity.

However, Hozier moves onto the hunger of politics.

"Pull up the ladder when the flood comes." The government refusing to help the people when the sea levels rise.

"Throw enough rope until the legs have swung." When you don't have a ladder, you use a rope. This lyric plays on the notion of when governments give the impression they are helping, but are only making things worse - a take on the saying 'Give someone enough rope and they'll hang themselves', since what else are they meant to do with it?

"Skinnin' the children for a war drum, puttin' food on the table selling bombs and guns." The hunger for power manifests in war.

"It's quicker and easier to eat your young." Here, Hozier uses the common saying in a more literal sense, saying that if these politicians are hungry enough to destroy the world, they may as well physically eat their young, since it'll have the same effect.

FOURTH (GREED):

"Damage Gets Done"

This song takes place in circle four, 'Greed'! The title of the song alone is already very meaningful. In circle four, the main punishment is that the inhabitants are split into two groups and are forever forced to charged into each other and fight. Dante describes them are being so injured and damaged that they have become 'unrecognisable'.

The song is about greed within the changing of the world. It's about growing up and losing the naivety and innocence you once had, no longer able to ignore the burden of politics and money. Hozier and Brandi sing about the excitement of being young and in love, but, with the rise of inflation, it's hard to exist like that anymore - You need greed to survive.

"Wish I had known it was just our turn being blamed for a world we had no power in." This seems to be a reference to two things. One, the idea that governments blame the people for their own poverty, and Two, the idea of arriving in circle four by no fault of your own. It's not their fault they wanted more money with the world being how it is, but, nevertheless, they're being punished for it.

"I haven't felt it since then. I don't know when the feeling ended, but I know being reckless and young is not how the damage gets done." They talk about the enjoyment of the love they're singing about fading, and how they miss that, but they know that, again, this is not their fault. They know they didn't change, the world did, and they won't take responsibility for their 'sin' when all they did was adapt.

As aforementioned, the inhabitants of the fourth circle suffer extreme injuries, so Hozier saying "I know being reckless and young is not how the damage gets done" is him saying "I know that we are not at fault for being served the punishment of Greed."

FIFTH (WRATH / ANGER):

"Who We Are"

We enter the fifth circle, 'Wrath', where the inhabitants spend their time fighting to stay at the surface of the river Styx, another one of the five rivers of the underworld.

"Falling from you drop by drop." / "To hold me like water." These lyrics obviously give the idea of water, representing the river Styx.

"Or, Christ, hold me like a knife." This lyric comes in quite loudly, Hozier's voice strengthening with it. The subtle blasphemy of "Christ" and the violent imagery of "knife" comes across as a sort of anger. Being held "like a knife" is representative of how those is Wrath must feel - like they are something particularly dangerous, but still desperate to be held.

"We're born at night, so much of our lives is just carving through the dark to get so far." Again, this theme of darkness that is so frequently displayed in Inferno is mentioned again. After this song comes "Son Of Nyx", which Hozier said was the transition into the darker half of the album, and Nyx is the Goddess of the Night. Being "born at night" would make Hozier the son of the night, the son of Nyx. This gives the impression that, if the album is following on chronologically, this is the point where the relationship portrayed in the album begins to fray as Hozier starts to be consumed by the darkness.

"And the hardest part is who we are." Those in the circle of Wrath possess a 'savage self-frustration' that Hozier seems to represent throughout this whole song - A fierce annoyance with the way he and his lover let things go: "We sacrificed, we gave our time to something undefined", "Chasing someone else's dream", Etc.

SIXTH (HERESY):

"Son Of Nyx"

We have no lyrics for this song (though you can hear him faintly saying some things, one of which is him saying "who we are...") but we know it takes place in circle six, 'Heresy'. Heresy is a belief or opinion that is contradictory to religious doctrine, especially Christianity. As aforementioned, Hozier said this track is a transition song meant to replicate a descent into the darker half of the album.

Nyx is a Greek Goddess and is often known as the personification of night. She had many children all representing different things but the title would essentially mean 'The Son Of Night', and, as dissected in the previous song, we can see that Hozier sees himself as reborn into the darkness.

Once again, darkness is a large theme of Inferno, but Hozier saying in circle six that he is the Son of Night is particularly meaningful due to the association of light with God. He has been reborn as something that could not be further from God, something that opposes the idea of God, something of a Heretic.

Nyx was feared and respected by all, including Zeus, and, though I believe there is no reference to her in Inferno, she was described as residing in the dark recesses of the Underworld, which is heavily incorporated into Inferno.

"All Things End"

This song does not have many overt references to circle six but definitely incorporates the idea of heresy. As mentioned, heresy is an idea that contradicts (especially, but not always) Christianity. In this song, Hozier talks about the ephemeral nature of all things, particularly romance.

"When people say that something is forever, either way it ends." Whether it be death or a break-up, God doesn't plan for you to be able to spend eternity with your lover.

"Movin' on in time and taking more from everything that ends." Hozier, however, argues that things still have meaning beyond their end. That, even after moving on, we will remember and learn from the things we have lost.

"Just knowin' that everything will end should not change our plans." Throws back to the idea of the second verse of "First Time". If you avoided something just because it was going to end eventually, you would never achieve anything. That's like refusing to finish a movie just because you don't want to get to the credits.

When this concept of ignoring the end comes to death, we ultimately cross the concept of God. There are many rules people follow in religion, avoiding certain things because they are against 'God's Will'. Although this practice can be kept in moderation, it can quickly become self-imprisoning.

Not living your present life out of fear for an unproven afterlife can be limiting, especially if you dictate who you love due to what supernatural punishment may or may not follow. Hozier sings that we should not let God's plan interfere with what we need from life, allowing ourselves to indulge in love even if it will end - ultimately, Heresy.

SEVENTH (VIOLENCE):

"To Someone From A Warm Climate (Uiscefhuaraithe)"

This song places in circle seven, 'Violence'. Violence is split into three subcategories, or 'rings'; Violence against others, violence against self, and violence against God. I believe this song gives an overview of all three.

With this song, we recognise that the title says "To someone..." and Hozier said this song was a gift to someone who was from a geographical warm climate, but there is also a lot of heat in circle seven.

"A joy, hard learned in winter, was the warming of the bed." Throughout this song, Hozier describes himself as cold, and his lover as warm. The idea of warming the bed is a concept Hozier mentioned in his song "Nobody" (From 'Wasteland, Baby!') where he sings that, if he had a choice between the warm bed of his lover or performing on stage, he'd go home to the bed. Since this song comes after "All Things End" (the break-up song), this call back to "Nobody" could be instead referencing a permanent distance, rather than a temporary one (like the temporary distance in "Nobody").

"And, darlin', all my dreaming has only been put to shame." This could have two meanings. One, Hozier waking from a dream about his lover to find them not here. Or, two, Hozier's expectations of his lover falling short as their relationship has finally fallen through. These expectations could be a form of violence against self, the second ring, as he set himself up for heartbreak.

"And I wish that I could say that the river of my arms have found the ocean. I wish I could say the cold lake water of my heart- Christ, it's boilin' over." As mentioned, Hozier is cold, his lover is warm. His wishes he could find something to to fill the loss of his relationship, but he still feels the heat from his lover in every part of him.

"It's boilin' over." References the river of boiling blood in the first ring, violence against others, Hozier could be talking about the way his partner loved him, how that was almost an act of violence with how hard it is to now let go.

"Butchered Tongue"

This song has less references to 'Inferno', and is more of a commentary on the act of violence itself. Hozier sings of places and cultures lost to the violence of man, and he mourns this deeply.

"To say 'Appalacicola' or 'Hushpukena', like 'Gweebara'. A promise softly sung of somewhere else." This grieving for a time when native land wasn't colonised and culture wasn't violently erased is prevalent throughout the song.

In the second verse, he sings very strongly of the brutal acts inflicted upon Irish rebels by the British forces in the Wexford Rebellion of 1789. As we know, Hozier is from Ireland, and he incorporates both the Irish language and history into this album, and recounting such violent acts for this song feeds into the grieving of what has been lost: "Between what is lost forever and what can still be known."

In the context of 'Inferno', it feels as though Hozier is listing the sort of actions that would land someone within the circle of Violence whilst also appreciating the efforts those above ground take to preserve erased culture. Altogether, the song is a very moving commentary on modern violence.

EIGHTH (FRAUD):

"Anything But"

The eighth circle is 'Fraud', split into ten subcategories that are positioned around the circle in trench-like ditches, known as 'Bolgia'.

"I wanna be loud, so loud, I'm talking seismic," follows up with, "I want to be as soft as a single rock in a rain stick." Who he wants to be fluctuates between moderation and severity. He is changing, unreliable, possibly referring to bolgia one, Panders and Seducers. Seducers tend to 'lead astray', as Hozier's unreliable narration does.

The punishment of bolgia one is to be marched backwards and forwards rapidly whilst being whipped, very much evoking the imagery of a stampede: "If I were a stampede, you wouldn't get a kick." This alludes to the fact that if Hozier were sent to hell for the various sins he commits for his lover, he wouldn't resent them for it at all.

"If I was a riptide, I wouldn't take you out." The second bolgia of Fraud is for Flatterers, 'the act of giving excessive compliments, sometimes for romantic courtship'. Obviously, the song is filled with these compliments.

"I hear He touches your hand and then you fly away together. If I had his job, you'd live forever." The imagery of "fly away" gives the idea of ascending, perhaps to Heaven, as hinted at again by the idea of the longevity of living. Bolgia three is for Simoniacs, those who would sell church roles, offices, or sacred things. This seems to fit with Hozier saying that if he had a divine role, he wouldn't follow protocol, he would allow his lover immortality.

Simoniacs were sinners because they were disobeying God's trust, because the selling of divine roles would lead to corruption in the Church. Hozier is using this hyperbolically, saying that if someone were to sell him the role of God, he would most definitely be a corrupt power.

"I'd lower the world in a flood, or better yet I'd cause a drought." In bolgia four we have Sorcerers. Although Dante used this term in a more logical sense for fraudulent sorcerers - false prophets, fortune tellers, those who lied about the plans of God - Hozier uses the term in a supernatural sense. Sorcerers were punished for trying to interrupt God's prerogative, whereas Hozier is blatantly saying he would summon another flood, usurping God's plan overtly.

"I'm talking seismic." The bridge that leads to bolgia seven was collapsed by the great earthquake and, as we know, seismic activity leads to earthquakes.

"Worry the cliff side top as a wave crashing over." There happens to be a cliff near the entrance of circle eight that a large waterfall plunges over.

"Abstract (Psychopomp)"

This song appears to be the crossover point from circle eight to circle nine that I mentioned when discussing "I, Carrion (Icarian)". Before we get to that, the title itself is significant.

A psychopomp is a chaperon of death; Someone like the Grim Reaper, or Charon from "First Time", or Dante's guide through Inferno, Virgil. Here, Hozier is describing the act of hitting an animal with your car as taking on the role of a psychopomp, whilst also relating this idea to the act of letting a relationship die, leading it from life to death.

In the crossover point from eight to nine, Dante and Virgil stand and look at the large well that leads down to circle nine, 'Treachery'. The Titians and Giants burst out of the well, to big to fit, but their feet stand stubbornly in Treachery. I believe that, at this point in the album, Hozier stands here, too. He's visited all eight circles, and has one last place to go before he leaves Inferno, and ultimately his lover, behind. This song is him realising he has to let his relationship end, he has to act as a psychopomp for his love.

"Sometimes it returns like rain that you've slept through." Circle nine, 'Treachery', is a frozen over lake, aka a memory of water, similar to the residue of rain. With viewing this song as the predecessor to "Unknown / Nth", we can take this as a hint of what's to come.

"The Earth from a distance." Since Inferno is arranged in rings (like a circular staircase), Dante could feasibly look up and still see where he started his journey. The same way Hozier could look up and see where his relationship began, "De Selby (Part 1)", The Gates.

"Streetlights in the dark blue." We have the mix of light and dark again, as mentioned in the opening track, referencing back to Hozier and his partner falling in love.

"Darling, there's a part of me I'm afraid will always be trapped within an abstract of my life." Of course, Hozier is talking about the memory of the animal hit with the car here, but the way this relates to circle nine is beautiful. As we'll properly dissect with "Unknown / Nth", sat within the most central point of circle nine, the deepest part of Inferno, is Lucifer, the fallen angel. Lucifer was thrown down to Hell from Heaven, and found himself trapped in Treachery, his body too big to escape. Dante says that the more he struggles, the more stuck he becomes.

That moment he was struck down to hell is a moment he finds himself forever stuck in, just as Hozier is saying here. In the next song, Hozier relates his lover to Lucifer, but these lyrics are a gorgeous mirroring of Lucifer's experience, and another hint at the final circle we will now head to.

NINTH (TREACHERY):

"Unknown / Nth"

Okay, buckle in.

The ninth circle, 'Treachery', is also one split into subcategories, yet Hozier appears to be singing about the centre. The frozen over lake of Treachery gets more frozen the closer you get to the centre. The inhabitants start half-submerged in ice to fully plastered in it. Throughout Inferno, and the deeper we descend, a soft breeze becomes a strong wind, that, as we reach the centre, we find is caused by the violent flapping of Lucifer's wings. Here he sits, stuck and chewing on Judas, another one of God's biggest betrayers.

After "Abstract (Psychopomp)" Hozier is now exploring the final stage of his relationship. The circles of Hell had mirrored the love he once had, and Treachery is where it shall be buried. He also represents his lover as Lucifer, though not maliciously. In interviews, Hozier spoke about the song being about a heavy betrayal he suffered from someone he truly loved, and likening this to God and Lucifer is just heartbreaking.

"You know the distance never made a difference to me." The song is about knowing someone in their entirety, discovering their best and worst parts. Hozier uses Inferno to talk about the tiresome journey of finally knowing someone. He says he would've made the trip all the same, that he would've walked this far for his lover no matter what.

"I swam a lake of fire, I'd have walked across the floor of any sea." This mirrors the previous lyric, but also references specific parts of Inferno. The are many fires in Inferno, particularly in circle seven, 'Violence'. The sea floor lyric reminds me of the lake of Treachery. Though a surface, not a floor, the lake would still be below any seabed, since Inferno is geographically below the Earth.

"Funny how true colours shine in darkness and in secrecy." You guys are probably sick of hearing me say it but... Darkness is a big theme in Dante's Inferno. It is meant to represent the deceiving nature of humans when light is not being shone. Secrecy is a running thread through 'Inferno', too, as Dante finds many people he thought had done no wrong residing there. Hozier is simply saying how (sarcastically) funny it is that he only truly knows his lover in the remains of their relationship; How he only knows them after seeing them in their cruellest form.

"Where you were held frozen like an angel to me." There are many angel lyrics, but this one specifically references the ice of Treachery. The fallen angel is indicative of Hozier's experience: Seeing someone he regarded highly, even heavenly, falling from that pedestal and turning into something that couldn't be further from God's work.

"You called me angel for the first time, my heart leapt from me. You smile, now, I can see its pieces still stuck in your teeth, and, what's left of it, I listen to it tick. Every tedious beat going unknown as any angel to me." Hozier references his ex-lover chewing on his heart the way Lucifer chews on Judas. He listens to it somehow still ticking, however slowly, and at the end of the song we hear something akin to a heartbeat. The beats are "going unknown as any angel to me" since he can no longer recognise his own heartbeat after it has been mangled by another, and, since he mistook someone alike Lucifer to an angel, the idea of angels must be "unknown" to him.

"Do you know I could break beneath the weight of the goodness, love, I still carry for you? That I'd walk so far just to take the injury of finally knowing you?" We again have this imagery of walking far, referencing the journey of Inferno, and, even though he's aching with the realisation of who his lover truly is, he can't help but be grateful that he does now know them, no matter how painful that may be. That he would do this all again if it meant he at least got to the answer of who they are.

His weak heartbeat follows him through to final track as we begin the Ascent.

ASCENT:

"First Light"

The title is very meaningful for the Ascent. The song references both Dante and Virgil's ascent and the creation of light by God himself. Dante and Virgil leave Inferno through a tunnel that Lucifer left in the Earth as he was thrown down to Hell, and they emerge on the other side of the hemisphere. This song signifies Hozier stepping away from the relationship as he also makes that journey out.

"One bright morning changes all things." Dante is disorientated when he exits Inferno. He'd become so accustomed to the darkness that he asks Virgil, 'How is it that the sun progressed so rapidly from evening to day?' Hozier seems to recognise here that his relationship is no longer fit for him, that the darkness has become too encompassing, just as Dante realises on his ascent.

"The sky set to burst, the gold and the rust, the colour erupts...the sun coming up." Not only does this give the imagery of the birth of light, but it also represents Dante's view on his exit: 'Until...I saw the lovely things the sky above us bears. Now we came out, and once more saw the stars.'

"Like I lived my whole life before the first light." Hozier says that the darkness from his lover was so overbearing that it was hard to believe he'd ever felt light before - that light could not have exists with a darkness this heavy alongside it. It is a call back to "De Selby (Part 1)" - "A darkness so deep that God at the start couldn't bear."

"One bright morning comes. Darkness always finds you either way, it creeps into the corners as the moment fades." He speaks of bringing light to a moment between them, but has it quickly smothered by the darkness inherent in his partner. Another call back, this time to "De Selby (Part 2)" - "And your heart, love, has such darkness, I feel it in the corners of the room."

"After this I'm never going to be the same, and I am never going back again." This lyric is heart-breaking. Hozier states that Inferno has changed him, but he has no wishes to re-enter it. At the beginning of this album, he was begging for the likes of Inferno - "De Selby (Part 2)": "Let all time slow, let all light go." - and now he is desperate to get away from it. In "Francesca", he said, "At the end, I'd tell them, 'Put me back in it.'", yet, now, he's at the end, he's ascended, and he has no desire to go back at all.

He is letting go of his lover because he recognises that this pain was not worth it, that this love was not worth the punishment he received, so he leaves.

---

That was Hozier's Inferno !! I hope this was helpful to some people since it was very fun to make (I'm exhausted) and it's very enlightening to see how these lyrics relate to Inferno (I'm heart-broken) !! Okay, wooooo !! Enjoy !!!

[2hoothoots]

alright, here's my hot take on the Sasha-Raz dynamic: i think Raz represents a wish fulfilment self-insert figure for Sasha just as much as Sasha does for Raz.

Raz wanting to be like Sasha and seeing him as an aspirational future self is self-explanatory, right. Sasha is his hero from his favourite comic books, he even dresses up like the guy – it’s cute! there’s a fun hero worship angle there. but i think there’s also an aspect of it going the other way: Sasha sees Raz as an idealised past self. he's an excuse for Sasha to recast his own troubled childhood in a more flattering light, to imagine a version of himself who was more confident, more capable, more driven; and to explore the fantasy of that version of himself getting support and training and recognition, instead of the way things really played out.

here's something. when you use clairvoyance on Sasha, he sees Raz as a younger version of himself:

not as his younger self – specifically, a miniature version of his current self. there's a difference.

here's something else: from what we see in the memory vaults, I don't think younger Sasha was actually like Raz at all.

this part is heavier on extrapolation, because all we see of younger Sasha is a single memory vault; but i think the expressions and the body language tell a clear story here. the boy we see in these vaults is shy, uncertain, estranged, lonely. the distance between him and his father is palpable, physical and emotional. 

think about the things that Sasha says to Raz: your talents will always set you apart. sometimes, isolation is a good thing. those are very weird things to say to a kid as “advice”, and they’re very revealing about Sasha’s own mindset! i think it’s very easy to read Sasha as someone who had a very troubled, lonely childhood, and then sought to retroactively redefine and romanticise it. it wasn’t grief that stopped him and his father from ever forming a meaningful bond; it was just his talents, his father didn’t understand. if he was lonely and isolated growing up, well, maybe that was a good thing. just look at where he is now!

and i think Raz serves as a vessel for Sasha to project all of that onto. because their experiences aren’t that similar, not really. Sasha left home because he was unable to connect with his father; Raz ran away because his family didn’t understand or support his gifts. Sasha pushed things too far with his powers, and was shocked and unsettled by what he saw; Raz pushed things too far with his powers, and was rewarded for it. Sasha left home uncertain and afraid; Raz left home on a mission. the two stories aren’t the same, but they rhyme – you can draw parallels, if you squint, if you’re willing to change a few details here and there. and one of these stories is much more alluring, more satisfying, more compelling than the other. 

when Sasha says to Raz in the shooting gallery, “I would have done the exact same thing at your age” – sorry, but i absolutely do not buy it. younger Sasha was meek and conflict-averse, he faced one single unexpected consequence and immediately noped out. i think he absolutely would not have done the same thing. but i bet Sasha wants to think that he would have, y’know? i bet he wants to see himself in this boy, who’s driven and confident and focused and such an eager student – who has so much promise, and is in an environment where that can be recognised and rewarded and nurtured. Raz isn’t just a promising student, to Sasha – he’s also an opportunity to live out that what if, to explore the wish fulfilment of his own younger self getting that kind of recognition and support, instead of being left, lonely and alone, to fend for himself. 

one final thing: one of the big reasons i really like this reading is that i feel like it makes the scene where Sasha scolds Raz for messing with Hollis’ mind way more interesting: [screenshots from this upload of the game's cutscenes]

"You thought you could manipulate another person's mind, to bend their will to your own! There are few things worse, Razputin."

i’m not the first to point out that this feels a little hypocritical coming from Sasha, especially when you consider that this is basically the exact same thing he encouraged Raz to do in his own mind! and besides that, you could argue that it isn’t even Sasha’s place to hand out this lecture – Hollis was the one whose mind was actually messed with, and her and Raz have already hashed things out.  but if you think about Sasha as projecting himself onto Raz, then i think there’s more depth here. this isn’t just Sasha being upset because his protégé did something bad – he’s shaken because Raz did something unexpected. suddenly, Raz has broken away from the model that Sasha had built up in his mind, of the perfect, confident young agent that Sasha could easily see himself in. now he’s having to realise that Raz isn’t perfect – and maybe he isn’t just like Sasha, either.

[the-east-art]

hello!! I hope you don’t mind me asking this, but do you have any good gf fic recs? I really like your sister’s one so maybe ones with similar vibes to that? :D

heck yeah! *to the tune of Stunkle Bunkle* East gives Gravity Falls Fic Recs!

idk if i can say for sure what does or doesn't have similar vibes to Pines Paradox, but I can tell you fics I like! Although legally if you like a fic I recommended you have to tell me 'I read that one and liked it' so I can feel like I'm getting a good grade in fics recs. One last thing: I'm not really a shipper so these should all if not mostly be gen. (if you want to see my entire list of bookmarks fics you can check out my ao3

Pines Paradox - BrownieFox

Ford's research is interrupted by his estranged brother showing up on his doorstep with a kid who claims to be time traveller. Meanwhile in the present, Stan and Mabel try to figure out how to get Dipper back to the right time. There will be secrets revealed, old wounds readdressed, and above it all a one-eyed demon watches with interest.

East: the primer. the blueprint. The one I do all the fanart for. Obv you have already read it, but in case this list gets around to other circles outside of my own, I want to put this one up first. Dipper gets stuck in the past BEFORE Not What He Seems.

Adrift - Jamesneatojourney

Stanford wakes up on the deck of the Stan O'War, concussed and alone

East: intense and dramatic - I'm kind of a sucker for Stan whump and that's what it is paired with REALLY good Ford POV

Pines! Pines! Pines! - hellmandraws

A collection of my various Gravity Falls fan comics, previously posted on Tumblr. The main focus tends to be on the Stan twins.

East: MUST READ COMICS. Hops all over the timeline, mostly focusing on Stan and Ford. Explores a bunch of aspects of their relationship, of the years they spend alone. It's the beast stuff out there.

putting the dog to sleep - parsnipit

ford can’t stop thinking about old yeller that night, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on their ceiling. he couldn’t do it, he thinks. he couldn’t ever shoot his own dog, no matter what. “well,” stanley says pragmatically the next morning, pretending like he doesn’t care as much as ford knows he does, “since he was sufferin’ and all, it was really better for him to be dead, wasn’t it? not much point in being alive if your whole life is terrible and you’re a danger to everybody you ever loved.” something cold and sharp takes up residence in ford’s stomach. he doesn’t like hearing stanley say stuff like that. he doesn’t like it at all. “i wouldn’t do it,” ford insists. “no matter what, i wouldn’t. there’s always another way.” “heh. yeah, i bet you’d find another way, brainiac,” stanley teases, reaching over to muss ford’s hair. ford swats him away. stanley can make fun all he wants—ford still spends all night thinking about cures for rabies.

East: OUTRHGDSGD the old yeller analogy that runs through this one shot absolutely kills me - I'm such a sucker for these types of metaphors. It uses quotes from the book to set the stage the the different sections and it drives me crazy in the best ways.

Things You Can't Take Back - thesnadger

It's Nineteen Seventy-Something. Stan is running from his mistakes, when he suddenly encounters the last person he ever thought he'd run into out here. What is he doing in Columbia, so far from Glass Shard Beach?

East: dare I spoil the twist? I won't. Read it. One of my all time faves.

Persist and Dwell - fencesit

Wendy pauses with her hand on the door and then says, "Hey, Soos—you ever notice Stan doesn't really...touch things?" He probably should have seen this coming, but the problem with deliberately not looking at things is that they have lots of chances to blindside you. In hopes of avoiding this conversation, Soos says, "I haven't noticed that." "Okay," Wendy says. "So. I'm going crazy, right?" "Dude, you're too smart to be crazy," Soos says, "but he totally touches things. He handed you money like five minutes ago."

East: What if Stan was lowkey-highkey haunting the shack?! THIS IS SUCH A GREAT IDEA. I really wish that there was more for this au or this idea

Deja Vu - interlude

Stan and Ford get stuck in a time loop on the day of the portal incident and are forced to work through some things.

East: Through the lense of a timeloop, watch the brothers have their struggles, and find that with infinite time on their hands there is nothing else for them to do but to eventually work things out (and maybe deal with how to get out of the loop). ITS GOOD SHIT

The Sacrifice of Stanford Pines - Jugare

Instead of sending Stan a postcard, Ford leaves Gravity Falls to find his brother. But to his shock, Stan is not nearly as willing to help as Ford thought. Everything goes south quickly.

East: I love this fic. The act of Ford going and finding Stan rather than having him send a letter gives these characters more time to interact before they arrive at the Shack, changing the course of fate. A top tier fic.

Under The Ice - castielrisingabove

What if that phone call the Bill-possessed Ford made to Stan actually went through?

East: short but to the point. A fun thought experiment and I think does a good job portraying both Stanley and Ford.

Sleight of Hand - impish_nature

Stan the magician!

East: Stan, post weirdmageddon, shows off his sleight of hand and his magic tricks. Ford POV. If you like the idea of the things lost in the cracks of memory after the series finale, or at least while Stan recuperates, you'll like this.

Unexpected but not Unwanted - impish_nature

Ford struggles as Stan remembers.

East: the tentative movements towards being a family, being brothers again, post weirdmageddon. shamelessly soft.

I Am A Selkie On The Sea - scribefindegil

The twins may be able to use the same sealskin, but only the one born with it is the true selkie. At least, that's what Ford's been telling himself for the past 40-odd years.

East: This series in general is really good. I like how the selkie skin is used to unit and to tear apart. My one gripe is I wish we never found out whether the skin belonged to Mabel or Dipper, and it was left for the reader to decide (and to decide if that even matters)

Too Late, Too Soon, Not Enough - IncomingAlbatross

(Another take on the missing scene in the Fearamid, featuring protectiveness, promises, and some long-overdue emotional progress. Also Stan being annoying on purpose.)

East: one of my favorite depictions of this scene. Does a good job with Fords POV and writing Stanley

why can't we just teach kids swears? - untrustworthyglitch

“Anyway, what’s in my kitchen that needs kid proofed? I keep the liquor in the high cabinets, where the kids won’t be able to reach,” Stan says. “Plus, the gun in the breadbox isn’t even loaded. Probably. I think.” Soos sighs. “I have my work cut out for me.” Or, in which Stan's niece and nephew are coming, and it's up to Wendy and Soos to fix Stan's life and habits.

East: A good fic, but more than that I really love this idea of how Soos and Wendy helped Stan get the shack ready for the kids.

Protective Instincts - ShyEye

Stanford decides to do some out of house research one late full moon night. He returns home only to almost instantly be attacked by an unfamiliar monster that maybe isn't as unfamiliar as initially thought.

East: I just love werewolf Stan au okay?

The Other Portal - Haberdasher

AU where, when items are lost in the Bottomless Pit, they come to Ford… regardless of his current location in the multiverse.

East: A good fic, but more than that it's a really fun idea! I wish they had pushed the implications of this even more (especially with the bottomless pit episode)

Off-Season - anistarrose

Winters running the Mystery Shack are difficult, but two unexpected guests improve Stan’s day.

East: cute oneshot. I'm a big fan of timetravel oneshots that are from the pov of the person who ISNT the timetraveler. Dramatic (or in this case tbh just very cute) irony.

In the Shadow of Death - A_Zap

It all started with the grim. Now it seems like every time he turns around, Ford finds yet another death omen hanging around his brother. Seriously, what exactly is going on with his brother that death constantly seems to follow his footsteps? A 5+1 fic of the death omens that adopted Stan and he adopted back.

East: It all comes together in the final chapter, trust me.

Changing Tides - Ariasune

When their dæmons settle, they'll be grown up. At least, that's the general idea.

and

Post-script - Ariasune

Poindexter, your deed is in the safe -- Wendy can open it for you -- don't worry about the mortgage, that's been paid off. Sorry about messing your life up again. Bye. PS - the milk is about to go bad, so you should use that up.

East: DAEMON AU DAEMON AU I'm such a sucker for these kinds of aus. Changing Tides focuses on canon, flipping between when the Stans were kids and the time of the show. Post Script naturally happens after the show. They're both good and dramatic.

Raising Stakes - Mary P Sue

East: heck, my copy and paste stopped working for some reason, so no summary for you. This is a vampire au and it's good! Create characterization, pretty clearly written either while Mystery Trio was a big thing or inspired by it. Carla fans get your juice.

[theotherwesley]

I'm going to posit something that may sound a little weird at first: but I think the same kind of dissatisfaction that leads people into questionable or dangerous reactionary movements, is the same dissatisfaction that leads people to start witch hunts and dog piling on social media, is the same dissatisfaction that gets people into new age, vibes-based "health" and "cleansing your toxins" lifestyles, is the same dissatisfaction that leads people into an Marie Antoinette-style obsession with cottagecore and the nostalgia for an imaginary bucolic lifestyle that never really existed. It's estrangement from results, particularly direct results.

This is essentially just the Theory of Alienation, but the connective tissue between cult-of-action-to-cottagecore hit me in a particular way that made me want to dig into the specifics in terms of internet phenomena.

Just about every aspect of the computer-bound/computer-dependent lifestyle is geared towards separating people from process from product. We don't see the results, we don't see the mechanisms, we don't see the other people involved. So the prospect of working outdoors to plant something nourishing and be able to see and enjoy the results is intoxicating (especially if you don't rely on doing it for a living). So is the idea that you can just pick up a weapon and make something happen. So is the idea that you can punish people for real or much more often perceived crimes directly without waiting on due process. So is the idea that you don't have to throw yourself on the mercy of a doctor who trivializes and ignores your symptoms to the tune of hundreds or thousands of dollars. Hell, the obsession with generative AI being pedaled as a "solution" to the apparent "gatekeeping" of "talent" (or time/labor/compensation) is stemming from the same thing. There are plenty of examples but the roots connect. Returning to the theory of alienation for a second-- is not an accident that we have been separated from each other and from our labor, it is unimaginably profitable for the ones selling us things and keeping us beholden to them for scraps and pennies our entire lives. It is killing us. It has been killing us. Some people exponentially more than others. You know this, you're living in it.

I don't have a plan for the Revolution or whatever but I am pretty convinced that it is critically, vitally important that we Make Real Things, with our hands and brains and with other people-- real art, food, friends, crafts, tools, stories, clothes, fun; help with something, do things for people, grow something, fix something, learn something. Get a result you can see that's YOURS and GOOD and not a product of consumerism or fear. --Are there obstacles to all these things? Oh baby, are there ever! That's the point! That's the problem!! <-THE PROBLEM. This isn't a judgement!! We are all fucking struggling!!!

Making real things is essential not in a woo-woo way but in a practice so you can improve way. So many people are convinced they can't make things simply because they haven't made things before. Start somewhere, anywhere, and you can build the confidence to in yourself that you can do more. It will help you adapt and strengthen yourself in a world that is trying very hard to keep you powerless and isolated. Again -> The point. People end up seeking things that make them FEEL like they've made an instant change in the world, or feel like they're escaping the rat race, or anything that feels like regaining power over their lives.

But if you don't also control where that feeling comes from, you are open to being manipulated by all manner of opportunistic and predatory forces. If you create something tangible/observable within your own means (and this does NOT preclude collaboration), you made something of value and that value remains with you, to do with as you wish.

That's empowerment. It can be practiced and nurtured, in fact it MUST be.

[the-monkeies-girl]

Oblivion. ( Noa x Human! Reader ) Part Fifteen.

oh my god this chapter and then one more what am i going to do with my life. posting two hours early? WHAT.

Title: Oblivion. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( VERY SEXUAL IMPLICATIONS HERE, strong sexual language used, Ape Mating, Human Sex. You get the drill. ) Pairing: Noa x Human!Reader. Words: 8.8K+ ( WHEEEEE ) Summary: Two days did not seem like such a long time. Hours did not seem like such a long time. But minutes? They seemed to drag themselves into eternity. READ THE SERIES HERE.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

Five Months Later.

“Two more days.” Noa’s voice was as steadfast as it had been, your hair being tangled between the thick fingers of his left hand as your own grip rose to touch against the bandage of thin fabric he had cased around his wrist that was used to ensure that Eagle Sun did not claw at his bare skin, pressing his fur in to his tendons and all you wanted was to be touch the untouchable. The fabric was coarse from use and tattered right around the edges, your eyelids falling shut slowly as the Chimp who held onto your head dredged ahead and let himself sink into a palmful of your skull in order to keep your head positioned for him to see your expression. 

The dim light of the fire in the corner of your small hut was indicative enough to Noa’s internal clock that told him he needed to leave soon; sharing a nest was protested against unless you were in the communal bundle of other Apes that slept together out of a desire of being close or if you were already a Mated pair. You were too private to share in the nature of communal sleeping, something that took the Master of the Birds time to understand but it ultimately fell down to the innate Echo aspect of privacy once more. And well…

“Two more days.” You were self assured in that as you ran your fingers against the band on his wrist before it dropped a small bit as you went against the grain of Noa’s furred forearm. 

“Would not have believed…” Noa started and rubbed the back of your head soothingly, urging you in some estranged way to urge your body forward which you were inclusive to at the time and shifted so bring your body against his own.

Slowly, you were languid in how your thighs parted, Noa’s eyes drifting downwards at the motion that was familiar but held such a touch of aggravated assault against his sense of smell. “When… I offered you to stay… You would become… so important…” “I’m not that important.” You grumbled from deep in your chest, the sound reverberating through Noa as he felt his mouth fall ajar at the tone. You were being… Humble, Noa thought of the Echo word you had taught him. Humble. Low importance to yourself, the leathered skin of his palm moved over your ear and tickled at the top as Noa pet you affectionately before he transitioned to the top of his fingertips against your cheek. 

High importance to the Ape, he felt shell-shocked at his body’s own mind as his weight fell back as if he had no control over the movements. Grunting upon impact drew into your primal desires, your body wanting to follow him down. His spine conformed against the animal pelts that carried your scent, the hue that clung to them was dimly different than the fragrance that was hitting at him now. This one was sturdy and potent, fresh and wet.

He wanted to lap it up with his tongue as his breathing began to pick up, chest rising and falling against your hands as you dangled yourself into a position to hover above him. Noa’s nostrils flared as he drew a deep breath in to coat his lungs and minds in a bid to remember the shifting in your pheromones, unknown to both of you for it had only been captivated a few other times. 

Dragging yourself down with him, Noa felt cross-eyed as you brought your forehead against his own, slotting your longer legs into the crevices by his pelvic bone. Ghosting over his own waist, you never allowed full contact and felt Noa dragging the grazing against your face to your bottom lip where he traced the plump nature and tugged downwards. Like the dream he had been in… When you two met before Death. Noa found infliction towards the action and stared longingly at the flattening of your teeth as you bared him a gentle smile which bounced when he released his touch. 

“Are you… not afraid?”

“I am.”

You admitted with ease, such a crazed juxtaposition to when you first began this journey with the talks of romantic love. How you never allowed yourself to admit anything to him before was such a foreign idea as you felt free as an Eagle now. Noa felt the sensation of your hands against his chest as he fluttered his eyes to captivate you from beyond his thin eyelashes. Hard to see still from the light, but with you so close to him, Noa was able to see that your own irises were dilated before your eyes fell shut. 

The Chimp used the muscles in his neck to touch your forehead more affectionately before he relaxed his neck down and the hooded nature of his gaze underneath his hard browline ran shock down your own spine as you sat fully onto him. Noa noticed. The stiffening of his own self against the placement of your weight was evident as the odd push and pull in his stomach reminded him of being sick from eating too many mangoes. Not unpleasant, he liked the fruit and it always left him a sticky mess that he got to lick off his muzzle and fingers but the Ape felt abundantly full despite the last meal you shared a few hours prior being rather light. 

“Me too.”

He admitted in return, that pinch in his stomach dropping to his navel and with another shuffle of your hips against his own, the fabric of your pants grinding against his fur too harshly and friction based contact was known to both of you, Noa felt it drop to drench his hip bones with unconfined fire. Harder than he intended, a large hand smacked against your hip and pulled you down onto him even further accompanied by a minor lift of his lower half. “It is… confusing.” “We’ll know better in two days.” You whispered in a hushed tone and lifted your body upwards and tossed your head back as Noa rode you against him, fully clothed the both of you as you tucked your hands downwards and into the thin nature of the twined belt that got to hug around his lower waist, the satchel attachment had been forgotten but the belt itself remained against him and you felt jealous that it got to rest so easily against him.

Noa’s mouth popped open at the brashed induction of your hands with a huff, snarling his teeth for a minute lingerance as he felt his nostrils flare once more.. Was this… Echo? It had to be, he thought and looked down, desperate to see the new contact but to no avail as it was done against the darker indentations of his fur.

“Two days.” Noa repeated to you, raising himself onto his forearms and fixed his gaze into your own. Swiping your bottom lip where he had caressed so lovingly just a minute ago drove Noa to stiffen below you once more, feeling a hardness that was getting more desperate between his legs, now casing right against his left thigh and holding itself against the fur there. What… Noa panted and no attempts of breathing were going to help him anymore. What were you doing to him? 

Once again as he had done so many times in the past, Noa looked at your jugular and felt himself grow in a heightened state of notice of the smaller aspects of your body and how it moved, not unpleasant. The usual stifle of your heartbeat against the vein your neck was pounding now, your hands were against his hips and dug into the bone there. More, he yearned for it and grasped the side of your neck and drew his face into the crevice that you offered when your head tilted to the side, the exaltation of your breath against the Apes ear enough to send him into an infinity worth of overdrive.

Echo, Echo, Echo. This was all so Echo! The way that you smelled. Like a flower of sorts… Begging a pee to pollinate.The way you were touching him, your hands so much smaller than Noa’s which were doing nothing more than digging their imprints into your t-shirt bunched hip bones. There was mutual affliction that he was giving back, the fur that was touching any part of your bare body enough to send all of your senses into overdrive and you knew…

Oh how you knew that if Noa was willing, he’d toss you onto your back and take what you wanted him to take. Two days made no difference. Two days… Swallowing hard, Noa’s face twitched at the sound that catapulted from that and earned himself your hands relinquishing their control on his hips to seek elsewhere. 

Noa’s mind was yelling at him as he raised his pelvic bone to get more of what you were offering him. You were barely able to comprehend, your own mouth falling open as you brought your fingertips downwards to the cap between your bodies. Noa--- What… Were you doing!? It felt… Almost… Good…!

Noa growled hard as your touch barely hit the velvety skin of what was stifled against his thigh, your position finally allotting him to spring free from the metaphorical cage it had been trapped in.Noa jerked with the force of his legs that were much stronger than you had bargained for in the first place, your entire form falling nearly flat on your back as you were tossed like a child who was caught with their hand in the berry basket, wide stanced as you looked up at the ceiling of your small hut as the breath was knocked right out of you.

“I-I’m sorry---”

"What was that?!” 

The Chimp was moving away from you suddenly and you had no response, Noa quickly turned his form from you as his large frame left your make-shift nest. Temporary for only two more days as you looked over at his hunched over form. Your mouth flew open as you found no words to properly express anything that just happened, the dawning realization of what you had… Placed your hand on too much in the forefront and it was obvious now as Noa staggered in a curled position as he paced in front of the fire, your eyes looking to where you had your touch only seconds ago and feeling a wash of embarrassment hit your every sense. 

You went too far. You went too far! Noa let you go too far! You let yourself go too far! And he had no idea what had just happened either as you rose to sit up, your heart racing incredibly fast as you squeezed your hand shut, the one that had touched him so intimately as Noa demanded once more. “What was… that?!”

“I don’t know---!”

“Echo thing?!”

“I don’t know!”

“I---” Noa turned so your vision was full of nothing but his back. Hardened breathing was evident in the rising and falling of his broad shoulders. Green eyes that were now acute with the color as Noa was drawn to intense focus, he looked at himself. Between… His legs. What you had done to him. “Need to go. Should have left… When fire… Started to die.” “Noa-” “Will see you in… the morning.”

The Ape was fast to depart, never allowing you the full frontal that you desired to meet his gaze and to kiss his forehead against yours as you had become so accustomed to when Noa would leave you for the night. Instead, your hand now alight with fire, you looked down at it in silence, knowing fully well what had just transposed and felt a small rack of guilt hit you for the confusion it caused. For the aggression of which he pushed you back at it.

Neither of you--- You whimpered to yourself, bringing your knees inwards. Had any idea, your gaze looking at the entryway of your hut, almost like you were anticipating Noa’s return.

A large body collapsed a few paces away from your hut after being carried by rather shaky feet, the shoulders and stomach still tearing into themselves out of the lack of confusion of what just happened and the response that you garnered unwillingly from just touching him. Behind another building that was used primarily to dry fruit and felt the stiffening in his body dissipating with lack of anticipation of your next movements against him.

Arousal was known, at least so he thought. You had attraction to each other that Noa thought was undiluted, normal and returned. This… Tipping his head back, Noa hit it against the wood bundles that created the walls of the hut. His breathing was all over the place as Noa tried to recollect the seconds that he had with you against him, touching him, touching him! Touching! That! Noa clenched his jaw and refused to look down any longer as his clear aroused state fell back into the normalcy of being tucked into the tuft of fur between his muscular legs. Was that how it was with Echo? Noa whimpered softly and growled. That sort of interaction?! That sort of brazen?! Contact!? Different! His mind was yelling at him. So different from what he knew his instincts were telling him. Take you, place you and mate. That’s it! What was that!?

Noa lifted his frame from the hut’s side and paced himself in an aggressive circle. Echo Mating! What… was he going to do…? Getting this worked up from just one touch…? He had two days to figure it out, Noa said finite and stared at your hut. Two days. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

There was no way to convince your fingers to stop shaking, the very tips feeling almost numb as if you were losing sensation throughout your entire body and it was beginning with the tops of your appendages. Your gaze was innately sharp and focused as you flattened the front of a camisole that you had scavenged so many years ago, surprised that it was still vivid white despite being dredged from the depths of the remains of Humanity.

The remains of whatever past it was that you felt Kin towards and wanted to hold onto for just a few minutes longer. Only that, nothing more, your mind buzzed with exhalation as you sighed. Friends and family were gone; the Humans you had been raised with, nothing more than memories to tell children some day. 

Placing a hand atop of your stomach, you hoped that to be the case so as to not disappoint the Clan you were about to embark in as if taking the signifying Feather from Noa months and months ago was not solid proof of your commitment. As if dying for them was not what you needed to do. No, you shook your head minutely and let your fingers play against the fray of the shirt now bunching around your hip bones.

That was not what you needed to do, and it was clear now in the way that your stare trailed over the ornate and detailed garments that were soon to be placed against your Human bones, sleeping for now against the wooden and carved-rough tabletop to your right. Never once has that happened, you swallowed hard and found it difficult to breathe again as aggressive anticipation took hold over your already racing thought stream. 

Never once had they touched bare flesh, always allotting themselves against the fuller frames of a Female Ape. You were so bare and cold, admiring in the full way that Soona’s were covered so thickly as she moved beside you, not as thickly now as when you were healing as that had been closer to the Winter Months, now you were rolling into the Summer where the prosper of the Season was evident to everyone of the Eagle Clan and was abundantly clear when you had seen the Master of the Birds hours ago in passing and how the sun's rays were now beating down onto his skin, not just the honey-sunken color that clung to the very outer edges of his fur coat.  

They had to be repurposed for you, the cloak of a thousand feathers, gray, white, black and blues rustling like they had been made to take wing into the Sky above, the headdress that had been passed down from generation to generation and beckoned you to do the same if the consummation of your love and affection towards Noa was fruitful, a cusped bicep band of orange, yellow and tan leather, not as thick as Soona’s or Dar’s. All your own.

The significance of a Bond that was never to be broken. Smaller, more dainty in your shoulders and down your entire frame otherwise they’d have been too big. Dar, you looked over at her and let a shuddering breath out, made sure that they fit; taking it upon herself to coordinate the task with the knowledge of how important it was to her Son that there were adaptations made for you here.

Dropping your shoulders and feeling the shift of the thin straps of your shirt drift with your shoulders pressing in on themselves, there was a look of acknowledgement drawn between you and the Mother of your soon-to-be Mate. You thanked her in silence, the feeling heightened when she nodded her head towards you, a smile tugging at the very corner of her lips.

Balling your fists against the bottom half of your shirt, you straightened it once more and felt tears prick at the back of your gaze and was quick to look away with a staggering teardrop down your right cheek which you let dance down the rounded bone and off the sharper point of your chin. Without Dar’s knowledge, she had given you everything you had ever wanted, never knowing how to search for it until it found you, half dead and gave you a purpose greater than that of what any Human could give. 

Everyone… Drawing a hardened breath in to replenish from the reminiscent exhale you released moments ago, you let it linger in your lungs and pushed it down onto your diaphragm to strain at the muscle. Everyone you were about to become would see it, eyes flickering towards Soona for a moment as she recollected you from the throws of anxious terror with a look of assurance.

Thank you, you whispered with your expression, raising a hand to wipe the condensation from your cheek and crease of your eye, softened and acute with admiration with the turning of your mouth into a smile for the Chimp who was helping you through this, having taken her time to explain what the ceremony you were about to step into truly meant and what would happen during. 

You… Parting your lips, your tongue peeped out and swiped against them as racked nerves flooded the front of your mind. You hadn’t gotten to think about what was going to happen afterwards for two days. You tried so desperately to keep it out of your mind but it was eating you alive as you flexed your hand at your side. You had…---- Touched him before being Mated. You felt just a graze, a tease of what was laying for you and there was no basis now for what was going to commence after the ceremony wrapped and you were on your own together.

When Noa and yourself trailed along the dirt path of the Village, the land still scarred but healing like the two of you had been doing from the fire that threatened the distance between you to be so great that there was no chance of memories being made in the future. Your bare feet against the ground that was a mixture of soot and ashen, toes bouncing as Noa dragged you alongside with him, eagerness in his palm as he cusped at your hand, willingness as he laid bare to your flesh for the first time and allowing you to drench your entire body against him without the reserve that had been blistering since the night of his sacred confession.

Sure, you had thought about it many times before and it was so clear in your mind from two days ago when the dam that was caressing everything back was struck with a bullet, holding yourself against Noa’s large body and sinking into him without any fear despite it lingering in your mind that he could take your life if he so chose to. 

And you’d let him, you released a bated breath, you’d let him take it over and over again if it brought him the utmost satisfaction. The tearing of your flesh with bite marks that drew the crimson to the surface for Noa to lap against his tongue, casing his canines deliciously with your essence, the release of nearly two years of pent up desire but there was no assurance on whether or not it would go according to the plan you had imagined when you were in bed alone the night before, letting your imagination get itself worked into a jumbled mess of aggravated worriedness. 

You’d never even seen a Human Male nude, all your knowledge came from books about anatomy that were faded and worn from time, watermarks cased around the edges as your gaze flickered against the pictures. Moving your attention downwards at the fact that you wore clothes and Female Apes did not caused the juxtaposition that Noa had… no idea what to expect with your own body as if you had any clue yourself. And surely… Your mouth ran dry and no amount of saliva was going to help it as you imagined what Noa was going to offer you in return for flashing him, you had no idea what to expect.

Would it… Be like a Human Male? Did the gene that caused their intelligence at all heightened their state of arousal to the point that it was comparable and pleasurable in the same way as Echo mating? Like you had any idea! You yelled inside of your mind, you’d never been touched outside of the contacts that Noa had given you in your states of healing, minor brushings here and there from your time before you left, yearning the return to his side and the flush against you when he admitted to feelings beyond what was spoken before. 

All you thought about before were nothing more than fantasies that yielded mind pleasure, nothing to say towards the heat that you felt when Noa looked at you a certain way during late night conversations that were stretching to you two being alone and taking in a forehead touch that lasted moments longer than any other but remained incredibly chaste, when he’d place his hand on your shoulder and dropping it to the small of your back to let you know of his presence behind you, a consideration to your Echo nature of being startled at times. All of these catapulted and desirable seconds from the last five months were wrecking your conscious mind of any semblance of rationality.

All so fleeting and all so distant now as you were digging a hole into the ground with the knowledge that he soon was going to touch you beyond any of your wildest dreams.

You wanted him to touch you like you had touched him! You… Wanted him to make you his but you had no idea what to expect anymore now that you were so near to it, now that it was so clearly obtainable.

It felt like you were tearing yourself apart with the ideas that were flooding your mind. Brief, surely. Neither of you had done anything like this before and the visceral response that you garnered from Noa before seemed pretty pointed in that direction. Would it be though? You felt your breathing rapid against your lungs, the air doing nothing to help the situation and it felt like you were being smothered from the inside out. Would you not want to make it last for as long as possible? Fingers flicking at your side, you dug your fingernails into your thumb and dropped your eyes once more to look over your body. 

He’d find it… Repulsive, right? Unnatural? You had no fur. Breasts were going to be exposed to a set of golden encrusted and green dominant eyes, fulled and perked with the knowledge that they were allowed to be touched by Noa’s calloused palms. You had nothing to cover yourself with other than a thin lining of small hairs that rose at the attention you drew to the notion that Noa would soon be laying with you as his Mate and a tuft of pubic hair that served to protect what was between your legs---

Between… Your legs… Noa was going to be there, your mind flashed itself into sudden and irrational fear of the highest degree of not wanting to cause disappointment, your heart racing inside of your chest and pounding at your ribcage which flared from drastic change in pace. 

You had been healing well, you knew and tried to bring yourself teetering back to the ground instead of floating off into the Heavens, but at times, if thinking about something that got the blood pounding, it caused your bones to heave with irrational irritability. 

Lightly, you let your hand touch at your thigh, coated now with fabric but then… Five moon cycles ago, Noa had been touching it at this very moment, now fresh in your mind as you wanted to feel that again. You could still sensationalize the pressing ovals of Noa’s finger pads digging into your skin there. Virgin, he had taken something with him that day as you told him that you’d take him as he was. You wanted nothing more… . Together. 

Shoulder to shoulder for the first time towards a nest whose intentions were to hold carnal desire along with the forelonged notion that this was all meant to be. You had not had time in all of this, the attunement of the details of the actual mating. Was it… Appropriate to bring up? To ask Dar or Soona what to expect? Would asking… cause more anxiety or would it put your mind at rest?

Out of the corner of your peripheral fluttered the captivate hue of the sky against the dimmer natural light that was pouring into the small enclosed hut along with the bustle of a crackling fire that allotted the azure color to appear more orange around the creases. Feathers, you recognized them as being from Eagle Sun, held in animation by Soona’s hand as she began whispering gently towards you, aware that you were suddenly terse with keen eagerness that was wafting off in the form of apprehension. 

“Will… all be okay… Noa,” She turned her back to you and you felt another racketeering breath escape your shuddering lips, “Chose his Mate… well. Will make Eagle Clan… Proud.” She was good at maternal reassurance you had noticed in the last five months of getting closer and forming a better relationship, Soona bringing her head in and casing your forehead with a tiny fleeting moment of a touch.

Grinning at her as she pulled away, you grasped her forearm and gave a small squeeze to the muscles below as to say a small ‘thank you’ for calming you down. For taking the time to notice knowing that she didn't have any obligation to do so and she did it now because you were seen as a Sister. Noa chose you, Soona recognized that and brought her hand up to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear, so Echo was the action but Soona did her best and let her stocky fingertips linger there by the tip of your ear and for that… You were so grateful to find a family when all you had left behind as a Human was taken unwillingly from your grasp. “Eagle Clan already proud.”

Dar explained and gave you a brisked huff of a laugh that Soona returned as she pulled away for a split second and the statement got you feeling more self-assured as you cracked a genuine smile, a tinged pink radiating from your cheekbones. Thick fingers raised themselves fully into your hair now, tucking in the delicate snitch of the feather into the strands, stare captivated in how Soona moved her forearm in front of you to get the feathers to stay in their positions in the braids that catapulted against your head, tangled a few minutes before you put on your based layer of a shirt with no bra or undergarment, underwear and a pair of pants. 

“Noa surely proud.” Soona hooted a laugh that got you into a deeply ingrained chuckle. “Walks around like… He is… King or something.” “He’s not that bad.” Biting your bottom lip, you glanced over at Dar as she rose from her seat and trailed slowly towards the cloak of tightly bound feathers and twine. It was time--- Your mind rang out like a small alarm as Dar met your glance for a moment but it seemed to drag into infinity. “I… Would be proud of him for all that he’s done. I--- Am proud… of him…” “We all are,” Dar’s voice was a brick amongst the most unsteady of Echo structures that were toppling over. Strong and ever so present in their knowledge of the World and what it can do to a person, “As his Mate…” She picked up the cloak and your stomach dropped like a pin at the sound that the feathers made as they danced against each other. Like Eagle Sun flapping to a take-off, you felt afraid to jump from the nest of security, from the netting of Humanity but you were so ready. 

Shoulders heaved downwards in a dance of captivity and self-reflection as Dar placed her body in front of you, her feet digging into the ground in self-confidence of having raised her Son so well, accepting and holding him to her for as long as she was able. With this placement of the cloak against your body would she be telling Noa that he was now yours but you were both welcome against Dar’s embrace if you ever needed it. 

And you knew you were going to as you met her eyes with bolstering confidence that was being stoked like a fire that was falling to Death itself. It felt like you were always going to need it as she grasped your hand with her free palm, the other balancing the cloak and displaying it for all it was worth right in front of you. “You must feel the most pride in him.” Nodding in silence, you squeezed at her fingers and felt a twinge of pain hit at the back of your throat that threatened tears again. “I’ll make sure he knows… Every day, Dar.”

You’d only said her name a handful of times, the intimidating factor of the Mother of the Eagle Clan’s leader always so great and powerful that you were afraid to speak to her so familiarly but that was all torn away in this moment, minutes away now from Dar herself blessing the union in front of the other Apes of the Clan and assuring that there was going to be a future for them all and that their culture was not going to be forgotten. 

Noa would make sure of it. And… making it abundantly clear that you had the same intentions as her Son, you smiled at the Ape Mother, bringing your own forehead inwards to kiss her browline hard, causing an influx of pain to shoot against your eyebrows as your smile tore into a thankful frown of sorts as you shattered a small cry. She accepted you, the palm that was holding onto you reaching and holding onto your forearm tightly and pulled you inwards, you would make sure that the Clan would not forget either. Staggering your feet, you let a choked sob leave your esophagus and crashed into Dar fully, her proportionally longer arm casing against your spine and holding you against her muscles. 

“Need… not cry, my Daughter.” Dar whispered into your ear and pressed you further into her shoulder as you let the tears flow freely for a few seconds as you shook violently, hands reaching into her fur and holding her much like a Child saying goodbye to their prized childhood toy would. Saying goodbye to a piece of yourself for something new, you wanted it so badly but there was still fright in the unknown. What if Noa did not find you as pleasing as a Mate? What if you were only destined as friends? What if--- What--- If!!!

The contact was lost as Dar pulled back to stare longingly into your face, the expression you wore was familiar to her as a thick pointer finger ran against the bottom of your right eye, taking away the tears from your ducts with one swift motion outwards, “Fear is… Normal. This is something… different. Something Ape have never seen---” She corrected herself with a tilt of the head, “Something Eagle Clan has never seen. Echo with Ape. Ape with Echo… Fear is… normal.”

Swallowing hard, you nodded at that and closed your eyes as she wiped at the left side of your face. So Motherly, it made your senses scream at themselves that you were actually allowed a moment of vulnerability in the world where Apes hunted down your kind for the thrill of a game. “What if he doesn’t… like me?”

That was odd; that did not sound like your voice at all, drawing and complaining like a child who was not allowed something they deeply wanted. You knew that you didn't need to worry, it was indicative in the way that Noa stared at you alone that should have left you assured that you were what he wanted but still the idea lingered that you were just a Human and there was going to be an expectation that you drew yourself more into an Ape’s nature.

Save for a few dirt marks that had made its known history against the ripstop fabric of your shirt, you seemed so acutely focused on how the knit looked in the firelight that was dancing against your body, casting shadows against the lashings of tightly bound of wooden spears that sprawled from what seemed to be the depths of the Earth itself and was encasing yourself, Soona and Dar in a warmth of the highest possible degree. 

“You do not see… the way he is around you? Born within Sunset, I know…” Soona was to speak now, helping Dar as she grasped the cusped shoulder piece of the cloak, telling you in silence first that this was the intended way and once Noa set his gaze on you so long ago, there was no turning back for either of you. “Noa is… Sure of what he wants. It will be that way, always. You… Are what he wants. Would not want to be Mated otherwise.”

You had to know that, the cloak rising with your eyelids as you looked and beheld the customs of the Eagle Clan, soon to be your customs. Eventually to be passed on. Peering up at the garment, the shimmering of the feathers reminded you briefly of the stream that danced itself into the significance of your relationship with Noa. Silvers and blues trudged themselves into a dark scape of gray and near blacks. It all came to head at the ocean current as it tugged the fresh water into salt.

You were that stream. So gentle and caring against the land but willing to cut yourself a new path against the sediment and rocks. Noa was the ocean waiting for you. Always waiting for you…

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

Anaya felt his darker eyes shade over his best friend. Noa seemed… Remarkably calm for the situation the Ape thought to himself, the cheers and hoots upon Anaya’s arrival subsided into the back of the silent conversation as he twirled a blue feather between his stocky hands, fluttering in and out of his finger tips with skill.

Anaya was able to sense that the soothing output of Noa was radiating with anxiousness as was clear from the fur against the other Chimps shoulders raising in anticipation of being crunched and flattened with the cloak of his Father. Ceremonious in all regards, Anaya glanced at it and narrowed his gaze on the cerulean feathers that were most abundant in color against the otherwise monochromatic garment. 

“You are,” Anaya started his usual chatter, happy around the outside and deeply satisfied within that Noa had found what he had been searching for his entire life, thinking it was a lack he had that caused the adverse drift between himself and his Father but it was simply… An Echo that had been missing from it all. “Nervous.”

That was accompanied by the sign that adjoined the word, Anaya huffing in amusement as Noa scoffed at him as his friend went to grab his shoulder, blowing a small raspberry at Anaya out of defense that was not justified at all as Noa could feel the budding sensation of wrought anxiousness in all of his senses, digging into the skin that laid under a few inches of his fur. 

“Wait until your mating ceremony,” Noa touched Anaya’s chest with a ‘C’ shaped hand and pushed him away in a playful gesture, Anaya hooting at him, arm forward and shooing Noa’s embrace away before ardently grasping at where his friend had made contact with his chest. “You… will be nervous too.”

Reaching upwards, Noa traced his scarred chest and drew a deep tentative breath inwards. His ribs. Healed now, he was grateful but no matter how much Noa tried in the moment, it felt like he were unable to catch his breath at all.  

“Not as nervous as Noa.” Anaya said assuredly, looking over the feather in his large hand before holding it up between their two large bodies, “Echo are different… Than Ape. Must have thought about that… before. How things… Will… Work… Do you know how… They work?”

Noa barked at him faux and playful before it tapered into a small whimper of sorts at the ending of Anaya’s questioning. Grabbing the feather into his own hand and looking down at it with hooded eyes as he let it tickle the very edges of his calloused fingerprints, imagining if your skin was going to feel just the same.

Or even better, Noa hoped. Softer… More… delicate under his touch, yearning with every pore, every whisper that there was something more in store. “Of course… Have thought about… That.” Only leaving out the details of two nights ago, Noa thought to himself and tilted his head to the side. Anaya… did not need to know about that. No one needed to know about that other than Noa and you.

That was all he offered for Anaya who just rolled his shoulders at the lack of detailing. He was curious, Noa could recognize why. There had not been anything like this in the Eagle Clan before and Noa felt a sense of sickened pride that he was the first to take an Echo for himself. 

Anaya was alluding to Female Echo anatomy previously. The intricacies that Noa had thought about before. How you would react to his touch against your sides, pulling you inwards to his chest as he buried his body into your own. There was conscious care towards the scheme that you were going to react differently than an Ape and that… Worried Noa.

How would you react to him? Noa’s body was built drastically differently than Echo Male. Similar, but not the same. Would you not prefer that? Echo Male? Allotted for your size? Careful with their hands? Not afraid of causing unintentional pain? Given the events of two nights ago… It only riddled Noa with more careless nerves. 

What if Noa--- Did not satisfy your curiosities that were obvious enough in how you looked at him? In how you touched him that night, your legs carding themselves around his hips as you kissed his forehead against your own, chest flushing hard against his own and your breasts crunching along his ripped muscles, heady breath against his face as he refused to breathe. Noa would have taken you then and there if he chose to soak in your scent, so poignant and powerful that it urged the Ape to lose all control he had over his conscious mind and actions. 

Noa bit at his self-deprecation for a moment like a ripened and juicy fruit. He should have held you to cure his own insanity and to tell you that it was all returned, that in two days, you were to be Mated and all the waiting would come to a slow and blasphemous end. He should have but your brash movements, so Echo and foreign to him, caused Noa to stiffen as something rose in the bile of his navel. Unfamiliar, he shifted his large body under your touch and tried desperately to get away. Not repulsed but so confused.  

Noa knew what it was now after having to rationalize it the last two days. Arousal. Of course it was, you stupid… Stupid Ape… You aroused him so many times since agreement was reached to court and mate five moons ago. He was blind to feel your hand against his stomach, pressing upwards with want that left Noa gasping slightly. He was naive to see the prickling of his own shaft between his legs that you were yearning to see before Noa was quick to pull away before he disgusted you with what he had.

To admit that there was indeed an aggressive attraction you had towards him and it was undiluted to the point that it made Noa want to go feral. You touched him without care with the intent to get him into a state of acute and catered arousal, Noa was impressed by that… He had no idea it was even remotely possible. Mating was used for one thing within the Apes and to see that you had him lapping at your every motion was a mind-bending cluster of anxiousness paired with exhileration. 

His thoughts ran away from him at times but never that far; he imagined how hot your skin would be against his muzzle, if you’d be receptive of Noa’s bite marks against your shoulder to tell the Clan that you were his intended as he took you in the most basic way that his mind could muster. The only way his instincts really knew how.

Never had he gotten far enough into his own fantasies to think beyond the aspects of more animalistic and primal intents. Pleasure was always there, but not in the teasing glimpses that you had blessed him with. The last time enlightened him too deeply into what you meant when you talked about Echo Mating. 

Two nights ago in your hut, the dim firelight illuminating barely your expressions to each other as you were against him, Noa flattened on his back with you above him. He’d never imagined this… His green eyes dilated beyond all relief as his hand grasped at your sides to keep you near. Never imagined… He stiffened at the hardening between his thighs.

Noa felt like being sick. It was uncomfortable and how quickly he was to sit up and advert away the moment left you reeling beside him as you were shoved off. You held him without fear and if he had been in his right mind… He’d have ravished you over and over again, no care in the world about the Mating Ceremony that was to take place this evening. No care of the traditions that the Clan held. 

It had to have been somewhat similar from what Noa gathered from thinking about that night, Noa now allowing himself to admire even further in privacy as you two were torn apart for long stretches of the days that followed due to the Ceremony preparations. Ape Mating versus Echo Mating. The arousal that scented at him from between your legs. Familiar enough, Noa’s eyes would dilated when it would waft his way and you caught glances. A smile would fall his way, the Ape taking it with stride that it was coming from a place of attraction.

Noa barked at Anaya faux and playful before it tapered into a small whimper of sorts at the ending of Anaya’s questioning. Grabbing the feather into his own hand and looking down at it with hooded eyes as he let it tickle the very edges of his calloused fingerprints, imagining if your skin was going to feel just the same. Or even better, Noa hoped. Softer… More… delicate under his touch, yearning with every pore, every whisper that there was something more in store. 

“Of course… Have thought about… That.” Was all he offered for Anaya who just rolled his shoulders at the lack of detailing. He was curious, Noa could recognize why. There had not been anything like this in the Eagle Clan before and Noa felt a sense of sickened pride that he was the first to take an Echo for himself. 

Rolling his green gaze backwards as Anaya let out a laugh, hard and long from his chest at the admittance he got from Noa, Noa was embedded with embarrassment as he turned his gawk to the side and looked at the headdress that was sitting near the cloak. All things were going to be placed on him in mere minutes. Each, a representation of Noa’s true desire to take you as his Mate for the rest of his time on the Worldly Earth and even then when you two would soar the Skies as the same Eagle afterwards. 

“Have thought of how… it will be… different.” 

Noa nodded and only flickered his gaze towards Anaya who seemed to be waiting in bated anticipation to hear of Noa’s ideas on Echo Mating. Truthfully, Noa drew his canines into their gummy enclosures in his mouth and gritted his blunted front teeth together, he had no clear thoughts about it anymore. Any expectations ran away with him the night you were so willing to touch him. Things would turn out the way that they meant to, he tried to tell himself over and over again but the personality shift from his obsessive nature was tearing apart his mind. 

Obsession told him to think about it; the shift of your body in front of him as you were naked… He wondered… How it must have looked. The obvious out of the way, you had no fur. Your breasts would be bare to Noa’s scrutiny of affection for the first time; not including the glance he had gotten of them when your sternum had been crunched in and Soona and Dar were running a desperate camp to analyze your injuries. What did the spot that wafted your scent towards him look like? He wanted to know. Noa wanted to pin you down and cure all his thoughts and gain the knowledge of it all. It was his for the taking and he intended to take it all to the very edge of Noa’s advantages.

Despite the clothes that drenched your body, Noa felt he could envision it nude if he really thought hard about it but there was that pit of lingerance in his stomach that he held expectations that were unfair to you. The dips of your smaller hip bones, the longer proportions of your legs and the shorter nature of your arms; those appendages he wanted to feel grasping onto him. Ape mating was straightforward, Noa knew that much.

Echo Mating was surely lost to him now despite the conversations he had picked apart from the agreement that lasted to the very cusp of Death before turning into a consensual relationship that had a finish line. You had mentioned a few times that it was prolonged. 

How much? Would Noa be able to sustain himself for you or would there be reserve on his part when his arousal was known to you? Would you… Think differently of him? Shun him? He barely lasted you touching him once--- What was going to happen later this evening when you were going to grab at Noa’s shaft and beg him to mate.

Quickly, Noa looked between his muscular thighs and huffed at what he knew he had to offer for you before trailing his stare to Anaya who had watched the motion from the corner of his gaze with a hooted and subdued chortle and joked towards Noa. “Afraid Echo will not… like?”

“Do not imagine… It is like... Echo Male.”

“Have heard size matters to Echo. And… Echo Male are small---”

Noa chuffed again, feeling the fur against his shoulders rise at the implications of Anaya’s words despite having cut him off in the first place. “Have not heard that before!” Noa shouted at him and drew his body inwards towards his friend to grab at both of his shoulders. “She will not care.”

Anaya laughed at him, drawing a small smile as he uttered to Noa and grasped the hands that were on his smaller shoulders, mere inches away from Noa’s face and taking in the fact that his friend now snapped into an acute panic, “She chose Noa as Mate,” A brow ridge was raised, “Echo obviously does not… Care.”

Noa preened at that assurance from Anaya and released him, Anaya hissing a small bit at the severity of how hard he was grabbed in Noa’s attempt of self-assurance. The headdress that accompanied his cloak captivated Noa’s attention as he tried to bring himself down from the heightened state of anxiousness that his dear friend had presented to him.

Quickly, his chest rose and fell with the whistles and pulls from his nostrils which flared with every breath. The dress.. A bundle of twine that were tightly bundled into a circle with the yellow and oranges that were similar in construction to the leather bicep band that dug into his right upper arm and happily nestled into the fur there. 

Noa knew that his own head piece matched yours in ornate, two feathers resting above and reaching into the air a few inches. Both gray in the color and the blue feather that he was now holding… Noa stiffened and looked down at it with a tear in his shoulders, bringing them inwards in self-reflection. He would place the blue feather he had in his possession between the two feathers that were already on yours. Signifying for the rest of the Clan the Bond that he was making. The Bond that despite no one understanding, they were all so acceptant of. 

Noa’s choice of Mate; as if you had no agreement in the matter. It all rested on you and the Clan deserved to know that, Noa looked over at Anaya with a smile of sorts. That night five moons ago after you ate, that night where Noa laid bare his truest of wants to you with his hand against your flesh, unwavering and determined. His words; less confident now as he replayed them in his mind but from the look on your face as he spoke them to you… The Ape was sure of your answer before you managed to say anything in return.  

“Will tell Anaya about it after?” Noa’s brother chirped playfully and dragged the Chimp right out of his own headspace with the joke that presented itself. “Curious to know… Echo Mating routine. As if the Clan will not be able to hear.” The way that Anaya snorted tore Noa into a small smile as he sat back down, calming his flying nerves as Anaya reached for the cloak to place against Noa’s broad shoulders.

“Will not tell you… anything.” Anaya’s expression fell in fake disappointment, knowing that to be the case as Noa made a joke for his friend as his nimble body twisted and shimmied the cloak in front of Noa’s face. The feathers of the many generations laid on it as he scanned what felt like each individual feather. “Echo… Like Privacy, remember?”

“Not much privacy when Noa… Will….Make Echo scream at all… times of the night. They are louder than Ape.” “No assurance.” Noa rolled his eyes.

“Noa… will offer better things for Echo.” Anaya was positive in his words and gave the other Ape a stern stare. “Need to. For the sake of future Apes. Show Echo… We are… Just as good, if not… Better than the…” Anaya laughed with his crude words, “The small Echo Male offering.”

Noa stared at the cloak that Anaya presented to him, giving a minor shift on his head to allow his best friend to lay it against his shoulders. Green eyes stared into another set of twinning irises as Noa smugly retorted, “Ape are better. Even my Echo knows that.”

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・ TAGLIST:

@ohwaitimthewriter @hera-annwn @saturnnie-03 @filliandkili @hadesbabygurl @supergoat12 @moonchild1433

@kaenalsha  @unsteady-bitch  @whamsworld

@yummyfanta @nuhteyam @babylockley @edynmeyer1  @callsignwidow  @moonlightnyx @undecidedcookie

[northopalshore]

hi I was curious if the Venus sign is important for solar or lunar return charts? like if Venus is in 4H for LRC, which can mean harmony in the home etc etc, but it's in Aries. Does that change the interpretation in anyway?

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ It does depending on what you're looking at in the first place, generally though Venus shows what could be easier, harmonious or enjoyable for you that month/year.

If Venus is in the 4th house, then it's likely you will enjoy a lot of time at home, with family or with the people you live with. Aries adds movement, confrontation, a little more stress & bickering. The context itself depends on your current living situation; are you living alone? With housemates? With a partner? I find that it really switches up depending on those aspects as well.

Let's say you're living alone, with friends/a shared apartment maybe in college or something. It likely means you'll be out of the house pretty often that month/year, maybe hanging outside more and spending less time trapped inside your room. Keeping yourself busy with things that are enjoyable.

If you're living with a romantic partner, then there may be some playful debating going on, wanting to switch up your routine & home life; you could be moving around furniture or adding a little more spice in your daily to-do list. There could be some petty arguments, but it's nothing serious, and nothing (about the argument) will last either.

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

From my experience,

Here is what the signs mean in the 4th house in the SRC & LRC (mostly LRC):

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

🌒 Aries

You're at home less often, likely very busy with work or just keeping yourself busy in general. Arguments may spark in your home life during this time.

🌒 Taurus & Libra

You'll be buying things to spruce up your home, paying attention to how you want it to look cleaning up, adding furniture, new appliances & knickknacks, changing the wallpaper or the vibe of your home in general.

🌒 Gemini & Virgo

Being more productive at home, being busy but staying indoors.

🌒 Cancer & Pisces

If you're away from family, you'll likely go back to your hometown for a visit. If it's in pisces then long-distance travels are involved i.e long drives or flights. It's also a sign of moving out of your current home or taking a vacation. In some cases, it means being reclusive or a shut in this month.

🌒 Leo

Having more fun at home or with your family, I usually go on outings with my parents when Leo is here.

🌒 Scorpio

There may be a lot of gossip going around in your home life (especially if you live in college or a shared apartment), fights, disagreements and passive aggressiveness. There may be these of "odd one outing" someone, seeing someone's true colors show at home. My past few LRCs have been occupied by Scorpio in the 4th house, it's engraved in my brain now lol. On the bright side, it presents an opportunity for you to bond with the people you live with on a deeper level. You will either be much closer to them or more estranged after this month/year.

🌒 Sagittarius & Aquarius

Always a sign for traveling that month. Moving away! Moving out, going on vacation, moving into a new home or someone coming over to live with you.

🌒 Capricorn

There's usually a bit of tension at home with Capricorn but it's not like fighting - fighting, it's more like passive aggressiveness

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

Planets in the 4th House in the Solar Return & Lunar Return Chart;

🌕 Sun

You'll be spending a lot of time at home and with your family.

🌕 Mercury & Jupiter & Uranus

Your home will be quite busy, maybe from moving or guests coming in and out often. Could also be a new family member (or family visiting) for some which includes children, pets & plants. Something could happen that will cause everyone to be on their feet.

🌕 Mars & Chiron

Fights are more likely to appear this time around, especially if you live with your parents or children. You may feel more frustrated at home either because of the people you live with or your personal pent up emotions. There could be a lot of crying this month as well. In extreme scenarios, you may be losing your home.

🌕 Venus

As you already know, it means that your home life will be very favorable this time around. You will enjoy being around your partner, parents and the people that you live with. It's a good time to have dates at home or have children (especially in the SRC).

🌕 Saturn

It might be a little challenging for you at home, mostly because of boredom, routine or responsibilities you have to tend to.

🌕 Neptune & Moon

You're likely to be rather sentimental at home. You could think of moving, or travelling (& may actually do it as well). Could also be a sign of moving away from home or visiting your parents/grandparents/close relatives.

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

Hope this helps!

Sincerely,

@northopalshore

[abbyfmc]

Yandere story idea #33:

Yandere hazbin hotel idea x reader:

Let's start with the boys first.

Here's a little idea of ​​how I think the guys at Hazbin Hotel would react if you tried to escape or left them.

Yandere Lucifer Morningstar:

I don't think that after suffering the abandonment of his first wife (Lilith) and the estrangement between him and Charlie, he would like the idea of ​​you leaving him. I like to think of Lucifer as a yandere who is a combination of an emotionally dependent yandere and a mildly possessive yandere who, no matter what you do or say, will not let you go.

Yandere Alastor:

If he were human, he probably wouldn't accept it and would hunt you down with an axe. If you're not his, you're not anyone's, so run little daisy!.

If he is the radio demon everyone knows he won't let you go either. It doesn't matter which part of hell you run to or with whom; if you even mention this idea to him, he will most likely laugh in your face and then punish you or say "Don't think about that stupid thing. I will always find you."

Yandere Angel Dust:

I haven't read any yandere fics about Angel Dust and therefore, I don't have a solid basis to imagine him in that aspect. What I can say is that he wouldn't take it well (like any other yandere) and he might even feel betrayed and quite indignant at the fact that you just dumped him from one day to the next.

Yandere Husk:

He would be angry, indignant, and just like Angel, he would feel betrayed that you had left him, run away, or even proposed such an idea to him. However, he would also be bewildered.

Yandere Sr.Pentious:

Well, Pentious is in heaven so I guess it would be the other way around XD.

I haven't read anything by Pentious either, so I can only say that he would be disappointed and frustrated with your escape or breakup, and like any yandere, he wouldn't accept it.

Yandere Valentino:

"Who do you think you are?, are you stupid?" He would probably tell you angrily (or mockingly) before grabbing you by the neck or hair and dragging you back to his domain. You better apologize, because he won't show you any mercy for daring to defy him.

Yandere Vox:

If you remember my previous prompt or phrase for him or not, I'll leave it here:

"Do you think you can beat me in my own game?!"

"(Y/n), don't forget one important thing: I'M ON EVERYWHERE YOU GO and always watching your steps, so don´t think about the stupidity of leaving me!"

He, like Valentino and the others, is a jealously control freak. Even if you leave the V's tower, he had eyes in every place (except for the Hazbin Hotel and maybe Cannibal Alley), but you still wouldn't be safe from his clutches. Following this, Vox will likely want to control or hypnotize you so that you won't even think of trying to escape from him again.

Yandere Adam:

I would think he will be like Lucifer, but more angrier, frustrated or agressive.

There's two posibilities:

#1: He mocks at you for your failed escaped attempt and then drag you back to his side by force.

#2: He will be angrier, and the he drags you or punish you.

PS: If you were sent to hell, he will take advantage of the extermination to pay you a visit and teach you a lesson about what happens when you try to escape from him (or he will only do it to get revenge after having left him).

-The End.

This is the first time i wrote something about Hazbin Hotel, so I know there are some flaws that I hope to correct over time. For now I have in mind to write small things about other fandoms to feel more confident about myself.

[plutodexay]

Red envelope- Neville Longbottom pt.1

Pt.2 will be smut on a different page. Please do not view pt.2 if you are not 18+. This is a sfw work (Any age), can be read as a stand alone,pure fluff, both charcters are written as adults. Enjoy!

679 words. Gen!Reader. No warnings.

It stood out, the red envelope. All of your mail scattered about on the table in different shapes of white paper, save for the parchment from friends. It reminded you of the holiday cards you'd get from estranged family while at school. There wasn't a holiday near though, or an address on the card.

There was almost an eerie feeling to open it, like the moment you did something would change. It was sealed with wax, more a wizarding thing than not, making the feeling grow more.

It snapped easily, thankfully. Small chips of gold wax falling onto the table as you carefully pulled the small parchment out. You recoginzed the hand writing almost instantly from days of stealing notes in class. The ink was harsh, almost as if it was meticulusly used, every stroke thought out for longer than the ink could stay wet.

"Your eyes shine like the stars in the sky

making it easy to find one self lost

you are much more within my eye

making me wonder if you would do the most and be mine?"

A poem? You think aloud, chuckling slighty at the horrid attempt of rhyming from your friend. It took a moment before you took in the meaning of it, backtracking to the last two words once again. "Be mine?" Your eyes squinted, trying to make perfectly sure it was the writing of Neville Longbottom, not willing to fall for a prank from a particular set of twins this far out of school.

You couldn't be more sure, ages spent looking at the parchment assured you. You found yourself in a daze, not thinking about your next moves until you were face to face with the all too familar door.

"Hi." Neville spoke, face redder than it was when he first opened the door. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" You frowned, walking past him, entering his house without hestiation.

Neville followed behind, shutting the door quietly before trailing you, standing awkwardly in front of you as you stopped. He took a seat at the table, putting his head in his hands before muttering something under his breathe.

"Why are you sorry?" You asked once again, standing in front of him as he peared up at you slightly.

"I shouldn't have done it, especially like that."

'Why? Was it a joke?" You could feel tears starting to well in your eyes at the idea of it being some sort of prank, something to try and trick you into being vunerable.

"No." He said rather loudly, his own eyes wide at the mere thought of it. He stood up, making it so you two were standing scarily close and taking a deep breathe before he spoke. "I'm in love with you, the question wasn't a joke. I'm just." He trailed off, countless emotions filling his eyes.

"Bad at poems?" You chuckled slighlty.

"Really bad, but Hermione assured me you'd like it." He responded, voice lighthearted, mimicking your own.

You couldn't think of any words to fill the space settling around the two of you, the tension was thick, as if both of you were waiting for the final pin to drop. Instead of trying to ramble your way out, you took the route of sheer impuslive confidence.

Without another thought, you reached up and grabbed the dark collar of Nevilles shirt, pulling him towards you just enough that you could place your lips onto his. It barely took him a second before he caught on, taking his hands and placing both onto your face carefully.

His lips were soft, not shocking seeing how well the man takes care of every other aspect of his life. Even with the confidence in his movements, you could feel the slight quiver in his lips out of nervousness. It didn't bother you and he didn't seem to care, his face flushed with a wide smile as you pulled apart for air.

The matching look on your own face was all it took for him to pull you right back in, not that you were going to complain.

Pt.2

[coastalwritingprompts]

Ultimate list of 100 unique questions to help you create a deeply fleshed-out original character (OC). These questions dive into every aspect of your OC’s life, personality, and inner world, providing a comprehensive blueprint for their development.

Have fun! 🙂

1–10: Identity & Background

What is your OC’s full name, and what does it mean to them? Are they proud or ashamed of it?

What are the origins of your OC’s name? Did they inherit it from someone, or is it entirely unique to them?

Where were they born, and does the location influence their personality or worldview?

What is the most significant event in your OC’s early childhood? How did it shape who they are today?

How does your OC view their cultural heritage, and how does it affect their identity?

If they could change one thing about their past, what would it be, and how would it alter their present?

Does your OC have a birthmark, tattoo, or scar? What is the story behind it?

How does your OC feel about their family? Are they close to them, or are they estranged?

What role did your OC play in their family growing up? Were they the caretaker, the rebel, the peacemaker, etc.?

If your OC had to leave their home forever, what would they miss the most, and why?

11–20: Physical Appearance

What is your OC’s physical appearance in great detail? How do they feel about their looks?

Do they have any distinctive features, like a permanent expression, odd habits, or features that set them apart?

How do they carry themselves physically? Are they confident, hesitant, graceful, or awkward?

Does your OC have a personal grooming routine? How much effort do they put into it, and what does it say about their personality?

How do others perceive their physical appearance? Do they feel misunderstood or appropriately seen?

Does your OC hide anything about their appearance? If so, why?

How does your OC dress? Is it a reflection of their inner world, or do they wear a uniform mask?

If your OC had to change their appearance for a day, what would they do and why?

Does your OC have any physical or mental conditions that affect their daily life? How do they adapt to it?

How would your OC feel about someone who pointed out their physical flaws or quirks?

21–30: Personality & Inner World

What is your OC’s deepest fear, and how do they cope with it in their everyday life?

Does your OC believe in fate, destiny, or free will? How do these beliefs guide their choices?

What is your OC’s greatest strength, and how do they use it to navigate the world?

How does your OC view vulnerability? Are they open with their emotions, or do they hide them?

How would your OC respond to being emotionally manipulated? Would they resist, or would it affect them deeply?

Does your OC believe in second chances? Why or why not?

How does your OC handle grief or loss? Do they mourn openly, or do they bottle up their emotions?

How does your OC define love? Is it idealistic or practical, passionate or comforting?

How does your OC react to failure? Do they retreat, try again, or abandon the pursuit altogether?

If your OC could only keep one personal item, what would it be, and what significance does it hold?

31–40: Goals & Aspirations

What does your OC want most in life? Is this goal realistic, or are they chasing an unattainable dream?

What would your OC sacrifice to achieve their ultimate goal?

Does your OC have a secret ambition that they’ve never told anyone? What would they do if they had the opportunity to pursue it?

How does your OC deal with being forced to abandon a long-term goal?

What kind of legacy does your OC want to leave behind, if any?

Does your OC find satisfaction in their accomplishments, or are they constantly seeking more?

What’s the most significant risk your OC has ever taken, and what was the outcome?

How does your OC handle criticism when they’ve worked hard for something?

If your OC achieved their life’s dream tomorrow, what would they do next?

Does your OC believe they deserve happiness or success? Why or why not?

41–50: Relationships

Who does your OC trust the most, and why? Have they ever been betrayed by this person?

How does your OC handle betrayal or dishonesty in relationships?

What is your OC’s view on romantic relationships? Do they believe in love at first sight, or do they prefer slow-burning connections?

Does your OC ever push people away? Why or why not?

How does your OC feel about their closest friend? Are they truly seen for who they are by this person?

How does your OC express affection? Are they physically affectionate, verbally affectionate, or do they show love through actions?

How does your OC feel about family loyalty? What would make them break that loyalty, if anything?

What would your OC do if they were to discover someone they cared about was lying to them?

Has your OC ever been in a toxic relationship? How did they cope, and how has it shaped their current views on love?

What would your OC do if someone they care about suddenly pulled away emotionally?

51–60: Moral Beliefs & Values

What is your OC’s view on justice and fairness? Would they bend the rules for the greater good?

How does your OC handle moral dilemmas? Would they choose what’s right or what’s easiest?

What is the one thing your OC would never forgive, and why?

How does your OC feel about revenge? Do they seek it, or do they believe in letting go?

Would your OC be willing to break the law for a cause they believe in? Why or why not?

How does your OC approach ethical issues related to power and control?

Does your OC believe in the concept of ‘the greater good’? How do they weigh individual rights against collective needs?

Would your OC sacrifice one person to save many? Why or why not?

How does your OC feel about the concept of “an eye for an eye”?

What personal values does your OC hold that others might consider outdated or naive?

61–70: Social Behavior & Public Life

How does your OC act in a large crowd? Are they confident, shy, or indifferent to attention?

Does your OC enjoy being the center of attention, or do they prefer to stay out of the spotlight?

How does your OC handle social expectations? Do they conform, rebel, or find a middle ground?

What is your OC’s opinion of people who lie to gain power or influence?

Does your OC believe that everyone has a purpose, or do they think people are just drifting through life?

How does your OC interact with people they consider beneath them socially?

How would your OC feel if they were suddenly thrust into a position of leadership or authority?

Does your OC have any social causes they actively support or care about?

How does your OC feel about fame or public recognition?

Does your OC ever manipulate social situations to get what they want? How far would they go?

71–80: Conflict & Challenges

How does your OC react to being pushed beyond their limits? Do they fight back or shut down?

When faced with an opponent stronger or more skilled than them, how does your OC strategize?

Has your OC ever been forced to compromise their morals in the heat of the moment? What was the outcome?

How does your OC feel about their enemies? Do they want revenge, or do they want to move on and forget them?

What’s the hardest decision your OC has had to make in a crisis?

If your OC could run from their problems forever, would they, or do they face them head-on?

How does your OC feel about taking responsibility for their actions when something goes wrong?

How does your OC handle pressure from outside sources (society, friends, family) to meet expectations?

What would make your OC break under pressure? What would make them rise to the challenge?

How does your OC feel about conflict? Do they see it as something to be resolved or something to be won?

81–90: Secrets & Personal Struggles

What secret does your OC keep hidden from everyone? Why do they keep it, and what would happen if it were exposed?

How does your OC feel about being vulnerable to others? Are they comfortable with it, or do they avoid it at all costs?

What is your OC’s biggest insecurity, and how do they try to hide or deal with it?

Has your OC ever broken someone’s heart or betrayed their trust? How do they feel about it now?

What is the one thing your OC would do anything to forget or erase from their memory?

How does your OC react to being judged or criticized unfairly?

What is the hardest lesson your OC has had to learn in life?

Does your OC have a deep regret they can't seem to shake? How does it affect them daily?

How does your OC handle the weight of guilt? Do they try to make amends, or do they bury it deep down?

Has your OC ever been afraid of their own potential? What would it take to push them to fully realize it?

91–100: Personal Growth & Transformation

How does your OC evolve over time? What personal transformations do they undergo throughout their story?

What event causes your OC to have a major change in perspective or worldview?

How does your OC view failure as a stepping stone to success? Do they see setbacks as learning experiences?

Does your OC struggle with personal growth, or do they actively seek out change?

How does your OC respond when someone challenges their deeply held beliefs?

How does your OC learn to trust others after betrayal or hardship?

What is the one moment in your OC’s life where they felt truly alive or at peace?

How does your OC balance their past mistakes with their future potential?

If your OC could give their younger self one piece of advice, what would it be?

How does your OC envision the end of their journey? What do they hope to have achieved by the time they reach the end?

These 100 questions are designed to help you develop a character that is deeply complex and multidimensional, rich with contradictions, desires, and motivations. Each question can open a new door to understanding your OC and can be adapted to fit various settings, genres, and character arcs

@zencpoeticcomms

[loveemagicpeace]

✨Astological Things🎄

Moon is your safe place. It is something that you emotionally need and where you feel most seen, safe and fulfilled emotionally. The moon represents what you need in your partner and what would work between you in the long run. When you have many moon connections with someone, it means that you are closer to that person and that you feel more emotionally fulfilled and seen. You feel that you can share a home with this person. To invite someone home is usually your moon.

Venus shows strong attraction and love. However, it is not necessary that the relationship will work in the long run because the moon shows more attraction and giving love, but not something that would last for a very long time. Which means a lot of venus connections don't always mean a long term relationship. However, Venus in aspect with Saturn is very good for the long term.

Countries ruled by pisces are: Spain, Portugal, Normandy. Places ruled by fish are oceans, ponds, water areas, wet and humid areas, spiritual centers.

The countries ruled by the zodiac sign of Aquarius are Abyssinia, Arabia, Lithuania, Poland, Russia and Sweden. Places ruled by Aquarius are hilly and uneven, places where small rivers flow, roofs of houses, overhangs. Aquarius also rules highways, airports, and things related to electricity and electronics.

The countries ruled by the Capricorn zodiac sign are Albania, Bulgaria, Old Macedonia, Thrace, India, Afghanistan, Mexico and the Orkney Islands.

The countries ruled by the Sagittarius zodiac sign are: Madagascar, Spain, Australia and parts of France.

The house position of Uranus always shows where instability or destructive qualities may appear at any time. Uranus in the corner house (first, fourth, seventh, tenth) in the birth chart means that aimlessness will radiate from the person's life. This also means that the person will move often. Uranus in the tracking house (second, fifth, eighth and eleventh) tends to produce a greater number of unexpected ups and downs in a person's life circumstances. Uranus falling in a house (third, sixth, ninth and twelfth) indicates that education and religious beliefs will fluctuate, causing problems in this person's life - usually alienation. It also means that work is done in spurts and irregularly.

Neptune in angular houses produces romantic personalities. This indicates frequent changes of address, estrangement from relatives and strong possibilities for travel. If badly afflicted, strange accidents may occur on these journeys. Neptune in tracked houses brings tendencies towards strange, obscure illnesses that are difficult to diagnose. It indicates restraint and imprisonment. Neptune in descending houses is the planet of substitutions, which means false teeth, glasses, wigs, wooden legs and the like.

Neptune tends to feel that the ordinary things in life are unimportant, too vulgar, and therefore the person is looking for something more stimulating, more mysterious and sensational. Neptune sometimes seeks a temporary escape and takes refuge in the dream world. Some people feel that Neptune is neutral. Other astrologers say that he is the bringer of evil.

Saturn in the first house or in the first quadrant (first, second or third house) in the birth chart tends to throw burdens on the native early in life. This is often due to the father's accidents. Saturn in the second or eighth house signifies the power of saving money. In the fourth house, the individual tends to build a property of great value. If Saturn rules the 12th house and is angular, it means that personal matters will be revealed in public to the great embarrassment of that person.

Saturn is a symbol of karma: trials that will come into our lives slowly and surely. Because Saturn causes or symbolizes our delays and losses, it becomes the symbol of fate, which sets the normal man firm limits to his efforts. Saturn is the greater bringer of evil and the bringer of tasks. On the other hand, he is also the best friend because you can learn the most from him.

Jupiter also rules sports, hunting, athletics. It also rules the love of animals, religion, marriage, philosophy. Based on the position of the house and the sign and the aspects of Jupiter, to be able to find out how a person thinks in a philological sense. Regardless of the aspect, it is considered very fortunate that Jupiter is in an angular house (first, fourth, seventh or tenth) because it is said to protect the person from major misfortunes.

Mercury at birth is the key to healing powers. If Mercury is positive in sign, house and aspect, it brings healing powers. It also symbolically indicates whether a person is able to heal mentally or is able to solve current life problems. A study of natal Mercury shows how the individual will approach solving problems. Mercury in a fire or air sign tends to produce healing powers because it allows the person's mind to focus strongly on the site of illness or problems.

Wherever you find Venus, there you find an audience of admirers. Whichever house Venus is in, that's where you find the greatest love for people, places or things.

Venus conjunct Uranus often symbolizes several fleeting relationships followed by separation. Venus is most important for chart comparisons because it shows what to expect and what type of obstacles will show up.

Cancer individuals are sometimes difficult to live with because of their ever-changing mental sides. The waxing and waning of the state follows the lunar cycle. When the Moon is waxing, they are in a good mood for two weeks and when it is waning, they are depressed for two weeks. They have cyclical ups and downs.

Virgos tend to be withdrawn and require a lot of attention and time for themselves. They are loners. Only when they end one relationship do they start another. They are quite gentle. They are sophisticated warriors. They are rebellious. Virgos usually have a very beautiful body that is soft and clean. Many times they don't like to put on too much makeup and prefer a natural look.

The nature of a Libra person is harmonious. It has a sense of relationships in an individual's perception, which gives balance to his worldview and/or artistic perception. Many painters and musicians are born under this sign because it gives them musical talent and a love for beauty and colors. A Libra woman is resourceful and seeks perfection. The man is honorable, outwardly balanced and kind, but not passionate.

Pisces: Be romantic. For water signs, romance is important: flowers, food, confetti, etc. If you do something for them, make it very personal: they are very personal. This applies to gifts as well as other actions and relationships. Let it be according to nil's taste. Don't do anything by standard procedures, make it personal. Make them care. They don't need a lover, but love in the form of tender care. That's the only thing that matters to them. Encourage them to express themselves. Inside, they are nervous: This concern has to go to plan. The pain they take on from others must be expressed outwardly. What I have noticed many times with fish, especially in the sun, is that they want to be seen and want someone who cared and felt things like they do. Pisceans can feel younger than they are and keep their good looks well into old age.

Leo people enjoy the good life, and eating well is part of this. They like rich food and fine wine. Fortunately young Leos have strong stomachs and good circulation, and keep in shape because they are active. However, time does catch up with them, and Leos must learn to eat correctly and cut down on fatty foods.

Moon in Leo -you have strong emotions and can be reached through your heart rather than your head. You are a quick and accurate learner when your feelings are involved. But if a subject does not arouse your affections, you have no interest in exploring it further. The sensory impressions you receive from the world around you come to you on an emotional level. In order to make you change your mind, someone first has to change how you feel.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah🩵🧚🏼‍♀️☁️

[pikahlua]

sometimes I feel like I can’t stand criticism of bnha, and then I read critique from people like you who actually enjoy the story and think about what it did well and what it didn’t—and I usually don’t mind it so much. so anyway, I guess I mean to say, thank you for participating in fandom from a place of affection

Thank you. I'm interested in honest criticism, and it's hard to take criticism seriously when it comes from a place of bad faith. I can tell a lot of people feel betrayed, but it was so predictable they would feel that way, because most people chose to back themselves into corners rather than stay open to the idea that things weren't as they believed. I can't take seriously any criticisms like "Horikoshi is a bad writer because he wrote something I didn't like," which makes it sound like they think Horikoshi somehow tripped and stumbled into this ending by accident. I also can't take seriously claims that the story failed in its themes or messaging that then go on to describe themes/messages that don't connect to the plot at all, like "failure to fully address the child soldiers aspect" when the story never brings anything like that up as a point it's interested in tackling.

I'm far more interested in talking about the actual fundamentals of writing. If you think the ending's rushed, give examples. If you think the ending's incoherent, give examples. If you think the ending stands in contrast to the major themes or messages of the story, give examples. Otherwise you're not giving criticism, you're just ranting your feelings--which is OKAY, but it's not anything I'm interested in reading about. Your personal feelings don't sway me. Your logic has a better chance of swaying me.

My criticisms will come when I'm confident in my reading of the story. At this time, I'm still puzzling out what the ending means to me, and I'd say I'm about 70% there. As a preview, the things I'm most likely to critique negatively are the order of the major story beats, especially in the final battle, and the decision to estrange the main characters from each other for so long it dampens the emotional impact of major moments because we don't get to see the characters we care most about react.

[hyperlexichypatia]

This survey of why parents are estranged from their adult children is such an interesting illustration of how neurobigotry functions in society and interpersonal relationships. People accuse their estranged family members of being Mad/neurodivergent, because Madness is synonymous with being at fault in a relationship. It's considered inherently Reasonable and Justified to cut ties with a Mad/neurodivergent person -- especially an untreated-by-choice Mad/neurodivergent person -- because to be Mad/neurodivergent is to be inherently wrong, inherently unreasonable, inherently burdensome, inherently the one who is not abiding by the social compact.

Or as one of my friends put it, "Mental illness exists as a sociopolitical concept of ontological wrongness."

One of the pervasively enduring aspects of neurobigotry is that people who have been abused by neurobigotry will, instead of rejecting neurobigotry, simply accept it and turn it around on their abusers. People think they're really onto something with "No, it is my abusive parents who are mentally ill and need therapy" or "No, it is the people in power who are mentally defective" or "Racism/capitalism/bigotry are the real mental illness!"

But you can't dismantle the master's house with the master's tools. Pathologizing your parents doesn't correct the power imbalance of being pathologized by them, and using pathologization as a way to convey wrongness is still reifying pathologization and neurobigotry.

The context of family estrangement reminds me of this thought process I started about the construction of "cults." When the anti-cult movement began, it was centered on family members of people who'd joined new religious movements. The premise that people who joined religious groups their families didn't approve of were victims of "cult brainwashing" who needed to be "rescued" and "deprogrammed" (against their will, of course) was a tool of controlling families trying to deny their (usually) adult children's right to freedom of religion and general life choices. The idea that "cults" caused family estrangement was an integral aspect of the moral panic around them.

But over the decades, the stigma on "cults" has shifted. The contemporary anti-cult movement is fueled by people who grew up in abusive religious communities and chose to leave. It's applied as often to older, larger, established religious groups as it is to newer, smaller ones. While the original anti-cult movement largely centered on parents trying to control their adult children, the newer anti-cult movement largely centers on adults who've broken away from their parents' control.

Except. Except. It still uses the pathologization framework established in the 1970s. It's still a reversal -- No, it is you, the parents, the church, the authority, who are the Mentally Ill, the cult, the deviant, the ones in need of being fixed -- rather than a rejection or reframing: Actually, young people should be free to choose their own path in life.

It's not only applied in relationships between parents and children -- it's even more commonly invoked in breakups between former friends or partners. People feel the need to establish which party was Mentally Ill and Needed Therapy as a proxy for which party was At Fault in the breakup. In reality, breaking up doesn't necessarily mean either party was At Fault, but it's more socially acceptable to say "We had to break up because he's Mentally Ill and Refused To Get Help" rather than "We just didn't get along." Discussions of bad and badly-ended relationships are just constant rounds of uno reverse allegations of Madness/neurodivergence.

One of my least favorite examples is trying to "rebut" the neuromisogynistic trope of "Women are crazy" with "Men cause women to become crazy." Why are you validating "Women are crazy" by trying to "explain" it? Why are you accepting the premise that "crazy" is a bad thing? Why are you reifying the idea that being "crazy" has to be "caused" by something "bad"? If a man says "I broke up with my ex-girlfriend because she's crazy!" why validate the neuromisogyny with "No, you're crazy!" or "You must have made her crazy!" instead of challenging it with "What's wrong with being 'crazy'? What does that have to do with anything?"

If someone says "I stopped speaking to my child because they refused to seek therapy," why validate the neurobigotry with "You're the one who needs therapy!" instead of challenging it with "Why is their choice whether or not to seek therapy any of your business?"

[rainbowtitania]

That Kitchen Scene

Okay, I gotta talk about kitchen fight for a minute, because it was visually GLORIOUS.

tldr: every aspect of the scene’s mise-en-scene, lighting, sound, camerawork, and blocking all work together here. Even without a single word of dialogue, this scene makes us feel estranged from this familiar place; uncomfortably close but also disconnected from these characters; and we’ve got subconscious alarm bells ringing because all sorts of small details feel menacing and unreal.

It's such a smart way to film a fight between two characters who are almost always on the same page but are uncharacteristically alienated from each other, who are both hiding how they’re feeling and pretending to be normal when they’re not, and are now pushed to a breaking point. It’s also such a smart way to film two characters who feel alone in their grief for different reasons. It’s such a relatable feeling: when you’re trying to make your pain heard but it feels like you can’t break through; when your familiar spaces and relationships all feel tilted on their axis and everything looks mostly the same but feels wrong in some indefinable way.

Anyway, let’s dive in and see how they did it:

The scene opens on Eddie’s dark hallway, and when we see the kitchen, it’s harshly lit. There’s some yellow, but it only accentuates the sickly, shadowed atmosphere compared to the bright, sunny way the kitchen is usually lit. There are also no photos, magnets, or drawings on the fridge, which differentiates this from what Eddie’s kitchen used to look like, but also what Buck’s kitchen in the loft looked like. There are no objects to clutter the counters or table (again, unlike the way the set used to be dressed), which gives the whole room — especially considering the way it’s lit — a sterile and impersonal feel. It feels subtly wrong from the get-go.

Similarly, there’s no soundtrack for much of the scene, and the ambient audio (I’m not a sound person so this might not be the right term) is turned way up, to a degree that’s louder than it would be in real life. We hear every shuffle of their feet, every crinkle of the plastic on the paper towels. And they move and bang around so much that there’s just this underlying clamor to the whole scene that’s — again — artificial by design.

Next, I want to pause on the first angle we get of the kitchen. Ostensibly, it’s from Eddie’s POV. He walks in, stops, sees the grocery bag. But the camera is lower to the ground than Eddie’s eyeline, and shakily moves up to Buck putting away cereal. I think this has three purposes: accentuates Buck visually in the space, creates an ominous or disempowered feeling (which low angle shots are often used to do), and flags for the viewer immediately before a word is spoken that something isn’t right. On 911, the cinematography usually fades into the background; when it doesn’t, it’s visually unsettling.

The camerawork through the whole scene is deliberately provoking. Even when we do get a more traditional shot-reverse-shot during the argument, the audience is never allowed to align with either Buck or Eddie. The camera is never quite filming from their POV or over their shoulder, it’s always at an odd off-angle. But neither is it filming from a neutral POV where the audience can be an observer like a fly on the wall. Instead, we’re just a little too close. We’re in their faces. When Buck and Eddie move forward, the camera moves back jerkily and too slowly, at a different speed than Oliver and Ryan are walking, rather than with a frictionless travelling shot. Oliver and Ryan also shift from side to side as they move, as does the camera, so the camera is often zigging when Oliver and Ryan are zagging. It’s almost nauseating, and makes us feel like they’re about to bump into us. It’s as intimate as it is claustrophobic.

Speaking of bumping into each other: the blocking. You’ll notice that Buck and Eddie are rarely in the same shot together at all, and only cross near each other once: when Eddie comes in to get a cup of coffee, they physically turn their backs on each other until Buck is on the other side of the room again. (Compare that to the kitchen scene where Eddie tells Buck he’s moving — even when Eddie is keeping a secret, the two of them are all up in each other’s space).

It makes the moment when they finally meet an emotional source of tension but a huge visual catharsis. And the camera might be uncomfortably close, something awful might be happening between them, but the moment they touch is also the moment when the music kicks in and Eddie and Buck can finally be honest with each other about how they’re really feeling. Eddie and Buck get close to each other and both their composures crack.

[lets-try-some-writing]

Humanformers Unicron being former mafia boss 👀.. Unicron gets babytrapped by the goverment

Unicron: Whoever told you that child is mine is a liar. They must've mistaken me for my brother.. You see He is the lady man that ends up with his flings throwing kids at him.: I never slept with anyone outside or in my.. Job. And i was never drunk.

?: What about morphine? Being mafia boss is dangerous and surely resulted in some injuries.. That lead to someone using y-

Unicron: She is not mine.

?? :Good we took samples then. We can confirm that she is yours

Unicron: You-

? :She has no other relatives to take her in. Consider her as something that keeps you from going to prison. We will also give you a parole officer. Better watch yourself Mr Reaper

Unicron: ...Very well then

It was a surprise to literally everyone, but Earth (Or Terra), according to DNA tests, was indeed Unicrons. No one knew how she was actually conceived since Unicron hadn't been with anyone. Unicron certainly didn't believe she was his, but he took her in anyway. No use letting a baby die. He had hoped that his brother would never catch wind of the whole affair considering their estrangement and Primus's health issues. But Primus found out anyway, most likely through one of his illegitimate children. And so against everyone else's better judgement, Primus sent his youngest legitimate son over to give Unicron a congratulations gift. Poor Optimus was given no peace as he was coerced into child care on Unicron's behalf.

Optimus didn't actually like Unicron and still doesn't, but he keeps coming back of his own free will as a sort of pseudo CPS just to be sure Unicron is actually parenting. He is fondly regarded as "Mr. Thirteen" by young Terra since Unicron refuses to call him by his name and instead refers to him by his number. Optimus is not fond of it, but he tolerates it for his young cousin's sake.

Unicron may or may not scare the ever living scrap out of Optimus and the government in more than a few ways with the things he teaches Terra. An ex-Mafia boss has enemies, and he can't have his unofficial heir getting wrapped up into any of it. Terra being trained in the correct way to swiftly kill a man? Self defense obviously. She's a young woman in a world filled with creeps. Terra being taught the art of skirting the law? Unicron is just making sure she is ready for the hassle that is taxes and lawsuits. Terra being very VERY familiar with Unicron's old associates? What on earth are you talking about? She's just visiting some of her aunts and uncles.

Terra suspects nothing. The government is nervous but largely fine so long as Pluto is keeping a vague eye on the situation. Optimus is stressed. He's a dad too and Unicron's method of throwing Terra into the deep end of the pool to see if she swims or drowns in all aspects of life puts him on edge. One of these days, he is going to go to Primus to request payment for his efforts.