#as in affection is boundless yet i have to make up for the fact that i receive care & help from others

[tobi-smp]

you know, I think the reason why there's a lot of strange takes about c!wilbur is that not enough people in this fandom have kids (be that actually being a parent or just being responsible for someone younger than you in some way).

"wilbur had absolutely no obligation to take care of tommy/fundy/tubbo, and in fact it's a Good thing that he left them because he's mentally ill"

is a take that Always reads as strange, but instantly drives off a cliff when you actually take care of kids.

don't get me wrong, I relate to wilbur a Lot. he's an extremely important character to me.

but what's being described here is called Child Neglect. fundy is wilbur's actual son, tommy and wilbur both consider each other brothers, and tubbo is Tommy's brother while wilbur considers himself responsible for him in some way.

All wilburians recognize that wilbur felt responsible for the people in l'manberg and pogtopia, how he agonized over not feeling good enough. and that's Extremely relatable As someone who is mentally ill and in charge of a child.

taking care of a child At All is hard, double so when you're mentally ill. when you're struggling to take care of Yourself but still feel responsible for the lives of other people. when you have to meet needs for somebody else that you can't meet for yourself.

but you can't just like. choose not to take care of your children anymore and have that just be neutral.

sometimes you need to make Choices, you need to rest, you need to take care of yourself. that is all true. but you can't fully disengage from Being a parent without it fucking up your kids.

he Can leave certainly, but he can't do that without it affecting his relationships. he can't do that without it hurting people. and Realistically he can't do that without hurting himself, considering he's cutting himself off from every support he has and going to work minimum wage where nobody knows him.

which simply would not help my mental health if it were me.

and I think some people who see themselves in wilbur don't like that, because it doesn't feel Fair. to have responsibilities for other people when you're barely scraping by. to feel like a bad person for trying to take care of yourself. but that's why having kids is Hard. it's not for everybody, though you don't always get the choice.

and it's exactly Because of that that I think wilbur is extremely interesting representation for mental health, And exactly why I don't like boundless sands as an ending.

because that position that wilbur represents is Real. spiraling over feeling like you can't be what you need to be while Knowing that you Have to be there anyways is an Extremely common thing with mentally ill parents. l'manberg as a Family is real and has always been real.

and the fact that it's Difficult and Complex is the point ! wilbur hurt the people who love him most, and yet those people still love him, still need him, still Want him.

yes wilbur is representation of a mentally ill person, but more than that he is representation of a mentally ill Parent. and that distinction is Meaningful. I also think that distinction isn't as relatable to the very much so younger audience of the dream smp.

of course, that take is Also blanket weird as hell because unlike real life (I hope) the people that wilbur left behind were being hunted by a serial killer and then exploded. it's not a good move for his mental health on account of his entire family did very much so explode and die.

[etrsilk]

₊✩‧₊˚ ᡣ𐭩 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 ⇝ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐩𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 .ᐟ

˗ˏˋ ➛ 𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙨: 𝘒𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘢,𝘎𝘰𝘯,𝘒𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘬𝘢,𝘓𝘦𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘰

˗ˏˋ ➛ 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 — ✘

˗ˏˋ ➛ 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

⎝ 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚:: I'm really disgusted because it was originally an anonymous request but I deleted it without intention! So I'm not sure if the one who originally asked me will be that I made it :(( If that's the case, please tell me that you saw it because that stresses me out! 😭 - Also, I wasn't sure what "puppy reader" meant and if it was literally another version of "neko reader" (with physical characteristics) but in a dog version! For me Puppy!reader means a reader with a character similar to that of a dog; very naive, very social, cute, innocent and kind….anyway if I was wrong please let me know!

 —𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐔𝐀ꫂ ၴႅၴ

Killua is a very realistic person, sometimes cold and nonchalant...exactly the opposite of your personality!

Your relationship therefore constantly oscillates between excellent complicity due to the complementarity of your two personalities, and arguments

I would be lying to you if I told you that the fact that you have blind confidence, that you are stubborn, emotionally fragile, idealize everything, lack independence and lack of prudence never bothers him...

But the combination of your kindness, your joy of life, your boundless energy, your generosity, your empathy, your enthusiasm, your loyalty and your optimism is what he fell in love with!! You are his light, having a person like you by his side is so necessary and essential for him. You are literally the one who lights up his life! The one who makes it better every day!

Obviously, it's not easy for him because he's constantly afraid for you because he knows very well that not everyone is as nice as you, so he's even more careful, which he puts an extra mental load on it…but it’s worth it!!

 —𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐊𝐀ꫂ ၴႅၴ

You have a very different but yet completely complementary personality! He is a very pessimistic and unenthusiastic person by nature, so the fact that you are the complete opposite helps him enormously. He needs someone to help him balance this side of his personality and give him a new, more comforting perspective!

I have the impression that after the massacre of his clan, Kurapika lost the habit of pleasing himself and creating moments of simple joy in the small pleasures of life, but with someone like you and your personality is different: your joy of life is so strong that it affects everyone around you, including Kurapika!

He admires this part of you too!

 —𝐆𝐎𝐍ꫂ ၴႅၴ

You and Gon have very similar personalities! I don't see anyone talking about it but I think that continually hanging out with people like Killua, or even Kurapika (people who can be quite depressing) is a little hard for him in the long run, so it's good for him to have someone more optimistic social and enthusiastic!!

Obviously, there are also bad sides: There is never one to catch up with the other!! (nda: this sentence is the literal translation of a French expression, but I don't really know if it is translatable 😭 ) You sometimes find yourself in quagmires that are not possible because of that

BUT, however, the fact that Gon has a person with a similar personality to him as a girlfriend makes him in a sense a little more mature because his protective side quite regularly takes over to protect you!

 —𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐎ꫂ ၴႅၴ

Your naivety and kindness give him plenty of opportunities to teach you those dubious life lessons! (Which pleases him...)

Similar, but not in all respects: Leorio is much less naive, social and gentle than you….so it balances things out well because he is always there to prevent you from making bad decisions (caused by your naive nature ) before they arrive…you are therefore very complementary!

You remind him of Gon when he was young and that makes him a little nostalgic….

—English is not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes!!

[onehundredandeleventropicalfish]

One thing I love about absolute mess of Endless's parents- and god just how much implication for development of Endless, but also character of their parents, despite them having such minor screentime- is how they are very similarly neglectful and awful but go about it in such different ways because...

They are both nearly totally inacessible. But Time is hard to reach because he is everywhere, because they are within him in a way, and they need to dive in between microseconds to have a chance to talk with him. Meanwhile Night is outside of reality, far beyond any event horizon, any phenomena or concept, and easiest way to reach her is to jump in black hole and hope she lets them in instead of leaving them.

Side-effect of that is how they (can't) communicate with their parents. Time already knows everything, knows them on level they themselves don't realize ( Time is aware that cat-Dream is actually Desire and aware that Dream will kill himself and Daniel will replace him) and treats it like rerun of his least favourite television channel. Night meanwhile is so distant that apparently she is not aware (and doesn't find it important event) that Destruction left and that Despair 1 died.

They are so hard to talk with? Time is both brutal in way he approaches them, personally, but also a mindscrew, as he is talking about past and future and alternate timelines at once? Meanwhile Night seemingly offers warmth and affection, but aside from being shallow and unempathic, it is intersected with really vicious barbs of emotional manipulation?

They are both, strangely possessive and apathetic of the existence, but in rather different way? Time has stated, and Morpheus corrobated, that all things belong to Time, and thus Dream can't give him anything because everything belongs to him and he doesn't long for anything- except for Night, who predates Time and is outside of his constraints. Night, who fundamentally doesn't care about anything in existence (to point of shrugging at being told that there is war to end Creation) because it was once all hers and will be hers yet again, a boundless and infinite void from which all things were born and will be there once they are no more.

Time really, really doesn't want anything to do with his kids. He is so annoyed when they dare show up and would prefer to have no interaction with them if possible. Night meanwhile is all ''you never write, you never visit'' and admits herself that she might try to keep Dream with her forever. (Also, woah, congratulations to Destiny for managing to somehow please both hahaha).

They both make children (well, Dream, but from comments we can assume others too) feel like small lost children, but also be ashamed for being stupid. Time is constantly rolling his eyes at fact that Dream is not omniscient and complains how frustrating it is that none but Destiny see universe way he does. Meanwhile Night laughs; isn't it so funny, so delightfuly naive, how Dream thinks that universe can be saved, and in such funny story way?

They are both very dismissive of, well, everything in regards with children. Time flips off Dream s protest that Hope now got murdered with ''eh, in some timelines she lives and in some she never existed at all'' (which is doubly painful when at the end we are informed that in current reiteration of universe Hope doesn't exist and Dream forgot her and Time had to know that). Night meanwhile uses her condescending-comapssion to dismiss both his fears for universe and idea how to save it, but also his reminder that Delirium wants her love and protest that he and Desire aren't similar, alongside his very purpose (another one of your stories) and desire for family ( you always wanted relationship, right).

They rail that their children are ingrateful, but again from opposite ends? Time says, I gave you your being and moments to spend it in, and there is nothing to make up for it, and refuses to grant requests no matter how important, and calls them ungrateful for complaining about it, and is resentful they keep asking him for things (and accuses it of being only reason they seek him out). Meanwhile Night offers Dream a shallow, tiny, illusionary version of what he wants, and accuses him of being selfish and ungrateful when he doesn't accept.

Time seems to be immutable and implacable, moved by neither mercy nor urgency, and quite frank with how he sees his children, and in contrast to his appearance, very static. Meanwhile Night is mercurial, prone to mood swings, and according to Gaiman, plays games with children to compete for favourite.

Time seems to have almost bussiness like relationship with his children-they make offer, he considers it and if they can give him something he wants ( carry message to Night and get Saeculum back) he will grant request. Meanwhile Night is truly a capricious and chaotic force of nature and ancient proto-god, even to Endless, they can only hope things will go right with her.

In short, no wonder Endless are so messed up- both their parents are very inhuman and cruel but in such radically opposite ways that you really couldn't form a way to adapt to treatment, it was like trying to deal with being burned and frozen at same time!

Also sorry for rambling, hope I didn't bother you!

not bothering at all! (and sorry i took a while to get back to this, had a really busy past couple weeks)

but absolutely this! one of the things about the endless that many of them struggle with is that they don't really experience their own element, they can't, they are that thing. death can never die, dream doesn't have any hopes about his own future, destiny will never have a destination, only a series of paths (that's why he's the favourite son of both, btw, bc he's always two opposite things at once)

despair is one of the most grounded and accepting of the family, what desire thinks they want and what they actually want are two completely different things

i think that's why destruction was the first to leave, why he's the most aware outside of delirium about how the endless can't continue the way they are, this life breaks people, because his domain is entropy and therefore he is endless, and that's a horrifying prospect

(delirium is a special case i will get to in another essay)

and their parents are that way, too

time doesn't experience time because he is time. every moment of every year of every century happens to him at once, always. so he doesn't understand why his children feel the way they do, because all loss and all gain is irrelevant. there was a time you had it and a time you didn't and they are the same. you didn't grieve before someone was born, why would you grieve after they die? it's the same result. he doesn't understand emotion because emotion requires time, emotions evolve over time like people evolve over time and none of that is real in time's realm. he forgives morpheus because of daniel's actions, because they're both dream enough, why does it matter which is which?

night, meanwhile, in her domain over space. space is everything, ever evolving, ever changing, and night is only herself. she doesn't change, she doesn't see from others' points of view, she's barely aware other people exist. she criticises dream for never visiting her in nearly the same breath as she tells him she doesn't know why delirium keeps visiting her, what delirium could possibly want from her. she didn't know despair was the first endless to die, she didn't know destruction had left. time knows everything about his children but doesn't care, night knows absolutely nothing, she sees them only for what they can give to her. when she offers dream what she thinks is a great boon, it's to stay in her realm forever, and forget about the entire universe dying outside. they don't matter. they're not real. and she calls him selfish and punishes him for refusing

there's that line, destiny has, in the wake, which really encapsulates this

there is an inherent tragedy to all the endless, not just dream, because they're all missing some crucial part of being human

and they're undeniably people, they live, they feel, they remember, they're not their parents who exist unbothered by what they lack, their parents aren't human enough to notice

but they're just similar enough to their parents that it hurts

[yumejo]

where the coral grows

「jade leech x haru」 ↳ for @kunehori !! jade was soo fun to write! and ofc, as usual, tell me if anything wasn't to your liking so i can fix it for future fics..! 🤭

“Oya, is the tea not to your liking, Miss Haru?”

The dainty fingers twined around the cup settled it back down onto its saucer as the beholder relinquished an exhale, one birthed of petulant indignation. “That’s not it. Didn’t I ask my cousin, that crybaby mollusk, to prepare my tea? He promised⋯!”

“Azul refused,” Jade laughed urbanely, hardly able to suppress the erring covet gleaming behind his pools as he soaked in her expression, “He said he intended on keeping his promise of never making tea for you again after that incident.”

Intrinsically, that exposition was nothing more than a ploy to garner Haru’s attention for himself this afternoon—he hadn’t even concerned himself in asking whether Azul was up to the task or not, simply sealing the dorm leader into his little sequestered grotto of business.

Nestled next to the pearly cutlery, seashell-shaped scones lavished in heaps of jam and cream glistened with temptation; and Haru could no longer resist. “Mm! This is delicious, Jade! Did you⋯ use clotted cream?” she hummed, lashes fluttering beatifically, “I thought Mostro Lounge typically used whipped cream to meet the time demands?”

“I’m happy you noticed, Miss Haru. I prepared this cream myself for you,” Jade elucidated with a wicked simper, neglecting to add in the fact how he bought each individual ingredient himself with his paycheque and began making the preparations for her since yesterday.

Even if he’s a very busy man and doesn’t have all day, Jade would do anything for Haru.

And Jade luxuriated in how her eyes swirled and swooned with an unguarded innocence, the rapt interest he retains for her still as inordinate as the day he met her. This particular scene is a sight he’s seen many times since childhood; yet each day that passes, each time he witnesses her beauty, it’s never, ever enough.

Once the moray eel twins befriended and latched onto Azul like barnacles, Haru wasn’t far behind—and she was everything Kade had ever wanted.

Perhaps it was imprudent and foolish to devote so much time and effort into someone who remained oblivious to his affections over the years, but for Jade, it was exactly what he wanted. Serving Haru in the manner he does is something only he can do; and besides, do you truly truly believe Haru hasn’t had a lover all this time because she’s unwanted?

No—and with all due respect, you poor, unfortunate soul have only fallen for his trap.

It was precisely because Jade was always there that no one dared approach her with romantic intentions. Just as he organized, he twisted and manipulated the strings behind the scenes in order to cultivate what he has with Haru; and to ensure no one broke what they shared.

“Oh, Miss Haru, you have a little bit of cream on your lip,” Jade told her promptly, amused and enthralled by the heavy glob clinging to her upper lip. It was enough to make his pulse quicken, oh how she was easy to read.

Quickly reaching for a napkin, Haru huffed, “How dare I waste some of Jade’s cooking—” that vexation in her voice made Jade’s heart thump with rapture. She was the type who fussed too deeply over small details like that, and he adored that about her.

“Allow me,” Jade interjected as he placed his hand over hers before she could thieve the napkin off the tabletop. Using his other hand, his fingers—lithe and emitting boundless pulchritude—twine around Haru’s chin and his lips part open.

Glimmering, serrated teeth protruded from his mouth as he eradicated the distance between them, and Jade lapped his tongue across the cream on her top lip. Haru’s complexion instantly flushed from the sensation, eyes widening as spates of heat clustered in the apple of her cheeks.

Pulling back, Jade allowed a coquettish smirk to curve over his mien at the tantalizing vision of her blushing face. “Heh heh, I did do a lovely job, didn’t I?” A chuckle bubbled on his his vocals, right before he added, in a hushed whisper, “Of course, the taste of your lips only amplifies it.”

Jade could audaciously flirt with her like this; and Haru wouldn’t likely ever take the bait dangling in front of her, and that sentiment left Jade craving more and more. 

There isn’t a price too much to pay to have her be his.

[starstrider]

The "42 character development questions" for both Gan and Alma: 9, 15 and 21.

Heyo, thank you for the ask!

9. How do they manifest energy, exhaustion, tension, or other strong emotions?

When Gan is excited and energetic their aloofness takes a back stage and a mischievous gremlin that wants to fling fireballs at everything takes hold. Big toothy smile, flailing tail, all the good stuff. Warmth radiating into every direction, loud laughter and happiness that is rather contagious.

When Gan is exhausted, their stoic veneer breaks. Their posture shrinks and you can see a miserable and weakened person instead of a steady warrior. Slouching walk, hair falling on their face obscuring the pained expression. You can tell this exhaustion was welling up for a very long time, but Gan hid it to either not bother everyone around her, or not being questioned about it herself.

Tension doesn't really affect their expression - they may furrow their brows, but that's it, but their whole body does tense up. Unless it's extreme tension, let's say a breakdown - then they'd curl up and grab their head. A defensive position.

The illustration below shows some other emotions and how they physically manifest.

I haven't drawn anything expression-related for Alma, so the response is going to be text-only.

Alma is very energetic by nature, but if something particular is a source of her excitement, she immediately gets on her competitive streak. She gets a grin that's both determined and somewhat hungry, the same way a monster grins at their toy. Not a predatory smile, but a playful one.

Exhausted / depressed Alma is mostly motionless. Her face shows no anger or sadness - only whisks of regret and boundless numbness, gaze that leads nowhere, hand weakly lying on her chest. Looking at her you see - this is it, this might just be the finish line. But it isn't. She'll get up again, like time and time again before. Hopefully.

Tense Alma is angry Alma pretty much. Whatever or whoever is posing a challenge - she'll take it head-on and she's fully focused on it, groaning shortly when the plans don't work out and immediately taking onto the next one. Plan B. Plan C. Plan C2...

15. What kind of inner life do they have — rich and imaginative? Calculating and practical? Full of doubts and fears? Does it find any sort of outlet in their lives?

Gan's inner life is more intuitive and imaginative, I think. They're often lost in thought or preoccupied with feelings and tasks they have at the moment rather than making long-term plans. Magical theories, experiments, whatever they're currently observing and so on and so forth. The lack of foresight is apparent though, or rather - the confidence to deal with what comes when they're pulled out of their inner world.

That inner world is also occupied by loneliness, sadly, and Gan tries their best to distract themselves from it by either silently sticking around with the others and doing something or receiving tasks to do.

Alma's inner world is rather restless - it's like a long to-do list that will span for decades: Alma always has ideas of what to do next and what steps to take to achieve either her short-term or long-term goals. A headspace that's both chaotic and busy, yet among countless tasks and possibilities fester bad outcomes that might occur. So yeah, doubt and fears are present, but instead of trying to ignore them like Gan does, Alma kind of boils in that evil soup while going about her day.

The fact that Alma chooses not to talk about the inner turmoil with others does not mean it isn't constantly present in her own mind.

21. What kind of relationships do they tend to intentionally seek out versus actually cultivate? What kind of social contact do they prefer, and why?

Gan desperately needs people who would take care of her, entertain her with something new to accomplish and show warmth that would melt her initially cold exterior.

She intentionally seeks out groups of people rather than individuals to be her employers or coworkers, because that's what they're most used to: a group large enough so that their existence in it won't be questioned and scrutinized.

But in reality, if you wait for some time and let her warm up to you - you'll pretty much have a devoted open book of a person as a friend.

Alma prefers partners and no more than 3 people to hang out with. She seeks someone mutually devoted who's willing to accompany her on her crazy ventures. While she's fine with large groups of people, what she really wants is emotional intimacy and feeling of unity, trust and honesty. Though it might become codependent at some points.

Usually, introverted loners seeking friendship and bookworms flock to her because she's fairly straight-forward and offers comfort in her presence, be it conversation or fresh food.

[wanderinguncertainty]

Save me

I've been unwell lately, mentally. There's a lot of things going on in my mind that I can't help but to lose my composure. It only took a single question to blow up my peace of mind and make my insecurities, my traumas to resurface. That's why being kind and being discreet is a must, cause we don't know the battles that a certain person going through. And that's the least that we can do.

I was doing well. I was happy. I was enjoying my peace of mind. I was taking my time. I was doing everything at my own pace. I was motivated to do better in life. I was able to pull out myself from the dark place I've been living in for the longest time. Then someone asked me the question I don't wanna ever hear. I mean, not this time. And that question was enough to break my whole being. My peace of mind crumbled into pieces. My happiness was shattered. I started to question my self-worth again. I started to discern the feeling that I've been avoiding, the feeling of getting left behind. I thought I was doing great. I thought it's okay to move at my own pace. I thought giving my best was enough. But I guess, it's not. I guess it will never be enough. Now, I'm starting to go back to the place I was once in. I'm being surrounded with darkness again. I'm starting to drown with these endless thoughts and boundless questioning of self-worth.

I've been burying these unwanted feelings for a long time. It's not that I don't want to face them or acknowledge them but I just wanna breathe for now. I know for a fact that I am left behind by my batchmates. I know for a fact that they are getting married, engaged and building families, achieving their goals, starting businesses, travelling around the world, climbing corporate ladders and the list goes on and on. Meanwhile, here's me. The me that's in the same place for the past 7 years. The me that didn't make progress for herself. The me that prioritized her loved ones before herself. But, is it really necessary to rub these facts to my whole being? I'm aware that I haven't achieved anything yet for myself, but I was able to provide for my family. I was able to make my brother graduate in college and now, he's a registered nurse. I have small wins too, it may not be directly for myself but.. Aren't these achievements too? I hope people can appreciate these too and stop looking for the things that I don't have nor haven't achieved yet.

I've been beating myself up again to get a grip, hold myself together and just move on from it. I can't stay unstable for too long. I hate this feeling. I hate acting okay in the morning and cry at night. I hate wearing this fake mask and armor of strength when I'm at my weakest. I hate being sensitive. I hate seeing myself alone in these hard times but I also don't want to bother my friends and drag them to my own drama. I hate myself for relapsing. I could've just let it slip but why did I take that comment seriously? But, I really hate the feeling of not being enough, that my best wasn't enough.. Cause I've been giving my best eversince, I've been giving my all to everything, to the point that there's nothing left of me. I'm already tired. I'm already exhausted. I'm burnout. Still ain't enough? I'm sorry for not meeting all your expectations.

It's really funny how I remind everyone that I love that we have our own timelines and life is not a race yet here I am affected by one's comment. It's really ironic how I can save the people I love yet cannot save myself. I don't have anyone to save me from this loneliness, from this trauma. So I need to get up and force myself again, to save myself from all of these otherwise I'm gonna drown and might do something.. Cause at this point, at this moment, I just wanna disappear for good but still want to live. Sigh.

Ack, self. Please, get up. Stand up. Please continue choosing to live. Please, you have to keep going. You know yourself more. You're more than what they think. The world and the people living in it is cruel. But life is beautiful, right? I hope you can see the light again at the end of this tunnel. Keep going, please. Get back on your feet, please. Don't listen to people's negativity, just continue doing everything at your own pace. Self, please. Don't lose yourself. :(

[korusalka]

.

[provisionalsparkle]

The Boy Next Door

Reader x Bang Chan (Stray Kids)

[Genre] exes-to-lovers au, smut, angst.

[Word count] 6.7K

[Warnings] Smut. Angst. Unprotected sex, voyeurism, ample description of bodily fluids.

[Note] This is my contribution to @feliix ’s Summer 2 Lovers collab! Check it out!

Summer.

The season of fun and sun, careless joy, long days and warm nights…

For most people.

For you, this summer is about change. It’s about the little town you used to live in, the quaint house you grew up in, the smell of your mother’s cooking or the breeze from the yard, the sound of younger kids playing in the street. It’s about the big city you will go to live in, it’s purple and orange twilight skies, black silhouettes reaching toward the skies beginning to twinkle with golden lights, the noises of the traffic coming from evening bustle, the scent of the delis and restaurants that line the streets.

You were stuck between these two places, university having been a four year long limbo of boundless sex mislabeled as self-discovery, and now visit your home one last time, reminding yourself of the life you had there before moving on to another.

You think of the past with nostalgia, yet also with a restlessness that makes you want to run from everything. The stillness, the silence, the unchanging landscape in this little town is too unbearable, too unsettling. But it’s familiar, and it’s comfortable. The life you’ll soon live promises excitement, autonomy, it’s the adulthood you’ve fantasized about. It terrifies you too, and you have these horrible dreams about missing the payment of the most insignificant bill and having the entire world collapse on you because of it. You still don’t know how to do your taxes.

College is over, a new life awaits you in a big city after landing a rather ideal job, but it felt like you were leaving things behind. Funny how, after so many years of fantasizing about this grown-up life you suddenly felt like a lost child, scared to forgo the familiar.

It’s these sort of almost-quarter-life-crisis thoughts that fill your mind on a particularly warm afternoon. You’re indecently splayed out on a couch with as little clothing as possible, the door to the backyard is wide open, letting an occasional breeze waft in to disrupt the stifling stillness of the heat. The lights are off, and you were too unbothered to turn them on as the sun set, preferring to stare at a darkening ceiling as the evening sky turned purple.

There’s a familiar jingle of keys from the front door.

“Honey? You home?”

“I’m here, Mom.” You lazily answer back. She wanders from the hall to the living room, you can feel the judgemental look she gives you.

“Have you been laying like this all day?”, indignation lines her voice. Was it so surprising to find you like this?

“Yeah…”

“You can’t just lay here all day. Go out! Get some sun! Go play with those kids you used to hang out with from school!”

“I can’t Ma, I’d rather just plank here.”

“Oh goodness, Y/n. Give me one good reason you shouldn’t go hang out with them!”

“I’ll give you two: either they grew up to be total bitches or they had kids and became a bore.”

“I didn’t become a bore when I had you!” She exclaims, although it’s not too serious and some playfulness hides beneath the surface.

“Yeah, that’s because you’re a cool mom. They don’t make those anymore.”

“Hmm… well, I think you should make a bit of an effort.”

“Mom… it’s my last vacation you know -”

“You know what?!” She suddenly exclaims, her voice brightening like a lightbulb just radiated in her thoughts. “Mrs. Carson’s son is here with her for the summer too! I bet you haven’t seen him in ages, and he’s gotten so handsome.”

“Mrs. Carson?” You didn’t have any clue who that was.

“Well… you might remember her as Mrs. Bang, but Jane changed her name when she married Norbert a few years ago. She still lives next door and Christopher’s in town spending the summer with his mother.”

Bang…

Christopher…

You hadn’t heard that name in years. It surprised you a bit actually, and a hint of a smile came to your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, Mom… I’ll think about it.”

You wouldn’t admit… something did grab your attention. A curiosity of sorts.

You were fifteen years old when you had your first kiss. He was a short boy with a kind smile, a bit awkward really, but you had a fondness for him. It wasn’t about looks at all, all boys at that age were hideous and nothing would change your opinion on that, but you’d swoon whenever you saw him. It was mutual, an icky teenage infatuation that had your friends poking fun at both of you whenever you’d become giddy at the sight of one another. Hot faces, nervous glances, trembling innocent touches.

He sat next to you in chemistry and you’d hold hands under the lab table while the teacher gave class. His left hand always felt soft in your right one. Cute. It’s a bit silly but you’re glad you had that sort of adorable and silly romance. While it lasted, that is.

Christopher wasn’t a bad guy. He was stupid, like all boys that age.

When you saw him kissing another girl, of course you cried, but you knew it had to do with him being stupid more than anything. This simple looking girl that you had been friends with in elementary school, you can’t even remember her name.

You know why he did it, beyond his stupidity. Your mom had let it slip long before - you knew it was coming.

“Honey, would you believe? Mr. and Mrs. Bang are divorcing!” Probably just some hot gossip from one of her PTA yoga groups, no ill intention on your behalf. She didn’t know you were seeing Christopher - over your dead body. You were fifteen and a horrible student, you didn’t need to give your mother yet another element to ground you with.

“Oh no…” You acted as normally as you could, your first thoughts went out to Christopher first though. “Do you know why?”

“Well… I’m obviously not going to ask, duh! But I do know that Mr. Bang is taking the kid with him abroad.” What?! What did she just say? Chis is WHAT?!

“I - uh, what?” Act normal, act normal, act normal.

“Aww… sweetie, was he your friend?” Goodness, parents can be so oblivious, but it’s beneficial in this case. She doesn’t pick up on the depression of your mood.

“I guess.” A sniffle is about to threaten your composure so, in your teenage arrogance, you leave before your mother can see your teary eyes.

The subsequent days were strange. You expected Christopher to tell you the news, you expected to comfort him, you expected to live out the rest of your young romance as best as you could. And then… you saw him.

And he said nothing. He was cold, pushed you away. He must be going through a lot of pain, you thought. More days went by and he still said nothing, and his demeanor grew worse, no affection, no smiles. He must be having a hard time, you reasoned.

Sometimes you thought he was on the verge of saying something to you, like he was about to say something and the words threatened to come out but he’d suddenly pull away and swallow them. You didn’t question it really, it was so confusing but you just went with it.

You never held his hand in chemistry again.

Time made you realize that Christopher didn’t want to be with you anymore. You weren’t sure if it was because he stopped liking you, and that hurt a little, but you knew what he was going through, and you stood by him in case he ever chose to open up and cry on your shoulder. You’d be there for him.

When he kissed that girl, it didn’t really surprise you. Damn it, what was her name? You cried, you thought it was because you were ugly and your boobs were still pretty small - stupid reasons.

It took a few months for you to understand the real reason.

He left without saying goodbye. You never spoke to him after he kissed what’s-her-name. Maybe he tried to do so a couple of times, but you ran away or didn’t let him. Or maybe you remembered it that way to comfort you, just so you’d live with the thought that he tried to apologize, tired to make things right.

But the fact of the matter is he didn’t speak to you and he didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to say goodbye because it hurt.

He was trying to ruin your relationship so you’d break up with him and he wouldn’t have to say goodbye, so that he could kill the feelings you had for him to spare you from the pain of his departure.

Or maybe you were just imagining it like that to make it a cuter memory and think about it fondly.

Maybe in the end, Christopher was just a horny teenage boy that cheated on you. Maybe.

Regardless, you giggle as you think back on the silliness of it all, and how serious and life altering it all felt in your childishness. It seemed so long ago, so distant, and you were so changed that it felt like it had all happened to a different person. You wondered about the man next door, and the entirely different boy who had once been next door. What kind of person had Christopher become?

University did you well. It was four solid years of irresponsible drinking and uninhibited sexual exploration paired with relatively easy academics. You don’t know how it happened, but it had been like a transformation from one day to the next.

You, sort of, kind of, absolutely plain and normal girl that no one would notice lest you stepped in their line of sight. One day, there you were - normal.

Two weeks in - boom. Confident. Your roommate was an okayish girl, another plain one. Then you started noticing how comfortable you were undressing in front of her, to change clothes or whatever, as if it was the most normal thing in the world - which it was. Wearing shorts and skirts became less of a worry, just something that felt better. Sometimes you’d be thrown icky glances from some boys, which you hated, but others were acceptably flirty and you loved those. The best ones were the boys that would get shy and who would quickly whip their heads the other way once you caught them staring.

That definitely flipped the switch. It made you feel strong, it made you feel damn good. You, who at the most had dipped a finger into the world of heavy makeouts during high school, now became a seasoned seductress of all kinds of men. So long as you could wrap them around your finger with your demeanor, so long as you could prowl over them and take the lead.

Ah… the good old days.

What was going to happen now, though? Four years later, no slightly inexperienced men left to be wowed. Everyone you knew was turning into a bland and bitter office worker. Was this the end of it?

To think that you’d be ending this glorious chapter of your life in this tiny town, lounging on the same stuffy couch in the same hot living room every day, having your routine philosophical melodrama where you’d stare at the ceiling in the afternoons until your mother came in inquiring if you were alive. It was a terrible fate.

A few days after the revelation of Christopher’s presence, which you would never admit had been circling your mind nonstop, your mother returns with another piece of information.

“You know, Jane and Norbert are having a get together of sorts next Saturday - just the usuals from the block.”

“Is that so?” You said with disinterest.

“In fact, I borrowed a baking pan from her last week… why don’t you go over and give it back to her for me? She might need it, and you probably haven’t left this house in days.” You didn’t reply, but you could feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to obey.

“Fine…”

The afternoon was enjoyably fresh, although your white t-shirt stuck to you like a second skin, the bikini top you wore underneath tracing its silhouette into the cotton. You lazily stomped your way to the house next door, admiring the tall window where you had snuck into Christopher’s room a couple of times during your short romance. A ladder was perched up against the exterior toward that window, they must have been fixing things up. The porch was full of cans of paint, tools, boxes. It was only when you rang on the doorbell, begrudgingly holding the large tray, that you realized that Jane might not be the one to open the door but instead it could be -

The door swings open and you gasp. Christopher.

Well… his face hadn’t changed much. But he was slightly taller than you remembered, far more masculine, oh, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Yeah, he was shirtless… jeans hanging low on his hips… shirtless… abs… fit waist… arms…

“Hi! Is Jane home?” Good… pretend you don’t remember him.

“I - Uh… no, my mom’s actually out right now.” He replied. His voice had grown deeper, and where did he get that accent? Wait - did he not remember you? Now, that just made you angry, but you wouldn’t let it show.

“Oh, well… my mother wanted me to return this.” You say handing him the tray, avoiding trailing your eyes downward.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll give it to her.” He says. He seems a little frozen, an expression between surprise and caution lingers on his face, but you don’t know if it’s good or bad.

There’s a moment of silence where you just stare at each other.

“Y/n…” He finally says. There’s hesitation in the way he says your name. He’s scared, not of you, but he’s scared about the fact that you’re on his doorstep.

You don’t say anything, calmly, almost coyly, waiting for him to continue. You’d gotten rather good at pretending you were calm, and the slightest tint of a smile painted your lips so you wouldn’t seem cold or ingenuine.

“Do you remember me?” He asks. You can’t help but huff, a tiny laughter really.

“Of course. You know, you haven’t grown much taller.”

With those slightly playful words, you turn to walk back to your home, and with each step your impression of the encounter with your childhood love became more bitter and less sweet.

It was strange how you thought about him, about it. The situation, that is. Seeing him, talking to him, both of you now being older. A few days of thinking now.

You don’t know why you thought about it so much, but you thought about it. You thought about it without knowing how you felt about it or what you thought about it. This man you had only gotten a glimpse of, too overwhelmed to take in his features properly, now walks around your mind freely. He wasn’t the boy you knew. He wasn’t the boy next door whose hand you’d once hold in chemistry, who you’d kiss before turning the corner towards both of your homes. The boy who left all those years ago.

No, it wasn’t that boy. It was that man, who kept perturbing you. What did you feel? Interest? Yes, there was something quite intriguing about all of this which sparked your curiosity. Lust? Of course, absolutely, the man next door looked divine. Suppose you could abstract the person from his body, so that you wouldn’t be so bothered by who he was and what he meant to you, and you’d easily bend over in front of him and invite him in.

You supposed a conversation was in place, though, because after all, he was still the Christopher. You couldn’t just go around fucking people like that anymore - unfortunately. That was something you got away with in college. It’s a shame college boys grow up to be boring men, sex gets more boring, they think they have all the authority… Maybe you should go back to school.

You’re sitting on the windowsill of your second floor bedroom, one leg hanging out and stepping onto the roof. Opposite to your window, beyond a neat shrub, is the window of the guest room of Mrs. Carson, formerly Bang, which seems unchanged from when you last saw it. You remember watching her from your room, also unchanged, using the TV in there to do some aerobics she followed along from a VHS… was it a VHS? No, that’s the machine. What were the things you used to put in the VHS? A cassette? No… regardless, eventually she must have started using DVD’s.

Damn it, it all seemed like thousands of years ago.

Damn it, you were still so melodramatic throwing around words like poetry over some Richard Simmons tape. Aha! It’s a tape!

Your crotch is being dug into by the window frame, and you let your weight rest on it, the slight grind tempting you to have a round of masturbation. But you’ll finish the cigarette you stole from your mother first. It tasted awful, it was another adult thing you couldn’t understand. Why did everyone at university smoke so much? It was just another thing their eager teenage selves did to emulate the adults in grown-up world, to feel a little more grown-up. Who the hell likes this stuff?

But you liked watching it burn, occasionally inhaling its airy and bitter smoke. It wasn’t your preferred type of smore. You preferred watching papers and matches burn, their sweet and rich smell, the warmth of the fire that would sting the edges of your fingers. Shame your mother only used a lighter, you didn’t like the smell of that fire either.

You just surrendered to watching the bright tip of the cigarette and the white streams that came from it.

“You know those are bad for you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You exclaimed, your heart nearly jumping out from your chest. A man had sprung out from the window in the guest room of the Carson house, formerly Bang, and that man was Christopher Bang himself.

“Sorry I didn’t -”

“You almost gave me a fucking heart attack - what the hell?!”

“ - mean to startle you…”

“Damn it, Christopher!”

“Ah! So you do remember me?” He says with a bit of joy, but you just look at him, realizing that this is where the talk will come. His features grow a little more somber. He continues, “So… I guess I -”

“Where’d you get the accent?” You interrupt, genuinely curious. “You sound like the crocodile hunter.”

“Well… I was living in Australia with my dad.” He says it in a normal tone, but you make sure it doesn’t stay normal.

“Oh, so that’s where you went?” You both wince at what you just said. Yep, it’s finally time for that talk.

There’s a bit of silence, but you’ll let him be the one to fill it.

“I…” He sighs deeply. Uuhh… it’s quite a masculine sigh. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again but I… there’s something I’ve always wanted to say.”

“I’m listening…” You say. It’s a flat tone, but it’s funny. You hope it’ll ease him.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.” Some silence again, “I’m sorry for being an ass, I’m sorry for cheating on you -”

“Chris, we were like fifteen… you kissed a girl with braces, big deal.” You waved it off. Really, kissing that girl didn’t bother you so much, now almost ten years later.

“I left without saying anything.”

“Yeah, you did. Hard to not notice.”

“I was - I know it’s not an excuse, but I was going through a lot and I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“So you left without saying anything?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok… we haven’t spoken in years. I practically forgot about it.” No you didn’t.

“Did you?” He says. Was he hopeful when you insinuated he hadn’t hurt you as much as he thought he had?

“No, not really. I mean, yeah, you kissing another girl was pretty insignificant, we were just kids. It did hurt that you left without… I don’t know… There wasn’t any closure. There wasn’t a goodbye. I felt confused for a while, I guess.”

“I’m so sorry about that. But my parents were splitting up, I was going to have to leave everything behind. You were the first girl I loved and I was going to have to say goodbye and I couldn’t handle it. I was too hurt and embarrassed to even tell my friends. I wish I had done it differently.”

“Yeah, I wish you had too. I wanted to be there for you, you know? I wanted to hug you, hold your hand, tell you it was going to be ok.

“I really messed up there…”

“It’s okay Chris, you were just a kid. We were just kids.” You offer your sympathy but he doesn’t soften.

“Mhmm. Doesn’t make me feel less guilty about it.”

“Can I ask you something?” He nods, “Did you do all that stuff… you know, treat me that way, for real or where you…?”

“I was hoping you’d break up with me, get over me. That way we wouldn’t have to say goodbye and we wouldn’t get hurt.”

“I got hurt.” You admit.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” You insist. “It’s fine. We’re fine. We’re old and grown and fine. All of that’s in the past, I can’t blame you for acting like a kid. It’s okay.”

“Well I can agree with you there. We did grow up, not kids anymore.”

“You didn’t grow that much.” You laugh, he laughs too.

“You certainly did.” He’s being flirty. It could have been bad timing, but the mood felt right.

“Oh, you noticed?”

“Hard not to.” Goodness was he being direct. “You were really cute back in school, I had a crush on you for like, forever.”

“Really…Plain old me?”

“Really. And now here we are and I think I could have a crush on you all over again.”

“So you can go off and kiss another girl with braces and leave the continent?”

“No, I’m a one woman man.” He says while making himself comfortable on his own ledge. It’s getting comfortable overall, like you’re talking to someone you’ve known for the longest time, like a decade of separation didn’t do much harm.

“Well, well. And who is that lucky woman now?”

“There’s no one at the moment. I’m in the middle of some life changes.”

“Do tell.”

“I’m moving back. Well, not here, just in the country again. A big city, big job, kinda scary.”

“Seems we’re on the same boat. I just came back to say goodbye to this place forever and I’m ooout.”

“Did you finish school already?”

“Yeah… I wish I hadn’t though.” You think back on your experience with longing, lamenting it’s end.

“Wow, can’t relate. I couldn’t wait for it to end. What’d you miss about it?”

“Well, I didn’t have to work, grades were good and easy. And I guess, it was tons of fun.”

“How so?”

“Being on a campus full of horny and stupid guys - it was open game.” Chan hisses at your admission.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for that type.” He chuckles, “You would stutter for like the first two months we went out.”

“We were just kids.”

“I guess we were…”

Another comfortable silence as you stare off at the sky, your cigarette burnt through with only the spongy bud left to pinch.

“Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m single too, you know.”

It might have been a bad idea, you said it on impulse after all, something quite instinctive having taken over you. Maybe you were just horny and Christopher was just hot, regardless, the conversation was over. Before he could even process what you said, and the implications to it, you had already slipped back into your darkened room and out of his sight.

Chan felt like a teenager again. Not in a good way.

Chan remembered your first kiss, holding your hand. He remembered your breasts being the first he had ever really noticed, your legs being the first he ever caressed. He remembers how you’d press your bodies together while you kissed, not really understanding what both of you felt, only understanding the urgency of it.

Now he can name those feelings, the ones that once belonged to an inexperienced boy, merely dipping his toes into the surface of that world. But now that he dove, and had dived into its waters several times, he knew how to swim in them.

Yet, seeing you made him feel like he didn’t. It made him feel like he couldn’t swim, like he couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was drowning.

The first moment he saw you on his doorstep he felt his stomach drop, a pang of guilt that had lingered on his mind during countless of sleepless nights hitting him with full force. He didn’t expect it. He thought he would never see you again.

And after taking another look, a longer look, it was like he was swimming in completely different waters. He felt submerged, and he didn’t know which way was up. He wanted to open his mouth and swallow it all up, let you drown him.

He hadn’t felt this raging feeling since he was a teenager. He certainly hadn’t had a specific woman make him feel like this until you.

It made him feel another kind of guilt. Shame even.

The following days he’d watch you, shamefully. His mother had him painting the house and when he stood on the rooftops he took his time to enjoy the view of you swimming in your pool, wearing tiny bikinis that stuck to your skin and showed the buds of your niples and the lines of your labia through the fabric. He would admit, shamefully, that he stopped watching from the roof because he needed to get closer to see these beautiful details.

He now watched you from over the fence in his backyard. Getting incredibly hard watching you swim, watching you oil your body down.

It was all horribly, horribly shameful.

But weren’t you the one that mentioned you were single? It had caught him off guard. He was being cheeky in that moment, but he didn’t know what waters he was testing then. Now he knew, and it was making him behave so, so shamefully.

Should he go over there, push you into a corner of the pool and pull your bottoms to the side? Should he kneel at your feet while your rubbing yourself with that golden oil, and beg you to let him fuck you?

It wasn’t just the thought of sex that drove him mad, it was you in general. How inferior he felt in front of you, like he had to prove himself. Every day he worked shirtless, hoping you’d get a glimpse of him, but you were just so unbothered by it all.

It was driving him fucking insane.

If only you knew.

Except - of course you did. Of course you did. This is what you craved, what you were best at. Driving boys, technically men but boys sounds tastier, to be absolute slaves to their desire for you. Christopher wasn’t doing a good job at hiding it. Did he really think that you would suddenly spend every day swimming in the tiniest bikinis after having not left your couch for over a week? They really are such stupid, fuckable animals.

And Chris was particularly fuckable.

Day four of his perverted project, he was hammering away at some boards in the back porch of his house. Your mother wouldn’t be home for hours, his parents were away for a couple of days.

Everything was perfect.

“Chris?!” You call loudly over the fence from your chaise lounge, carelessly flipping through a book. The hammering stopped, he had heard you. “Chris, it’s hot today. Don’t you think you should come over for a swim to cool down?”

Why on earth were you acting so damn unbothered and confident, he thought. Why on earth were you asking him over?

It’s only a matter of time before he circles his own house and slides in through the gate on your end. He’s still wearing jeans and a utility belt, gloves too. No shirt.

“You can’t really swim in those, take them off.” You hardly peered at him from over your sunglasses. He was just standing there, frozen. That’s usually a sign that you’re working your magic well. Good. “Come on Christopher, take them off.”

“I - uh, I’m actually not wearing trunks right now. Uhm… I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go.” Insert unbothered page flip. “Why don’t you just undress and get in the pool so I can join you?”

“W-what?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He genuinely thought he had imagined it, maybe all of his hornyness was driving him insane.

“Christopher!” You whine. “You’re ruining the fun!” You slam the book shut and throw it over to the side, taking your sunglasses and hat off. “Chris, I think it’s obvious. Do you think I haven’t noticed you being a peeping tom for the past half week? Look! You’ve already got a tent in your pants and everything!”

“Fuck.” Shit, you were right.

“This is like, hmm, like an open invitation to fuck me.” You say with an eye roll, but your eyes roll toward his abs because they are absolutely distracting you.

“Are… are you serious?”

“Well… You want to, I want to. You’re nice, look like you’ve become quite a decent man - and I’m not just referring to your physique Chris. Maybe, just maybe, it would be an excellent idea if we finally fucked this tension away.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. You’re here for a few weeks, so am I. Why not enjoy each other while we can? After that we can just go our separate ways, just like before except we’ll end it on good terms.”

Too many points for him to argue with - you were right on all of them. He couldn’t disagree. In fact, he eagerly agreed. Little did he know you had this pitch rehearsed to perfection, to your benefit, because he seemed to be completely subdued by it.

“Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. Fumbling with his belt, zipper, exposing the line of his abdomen down to his hardening cock. A fat, heavy cock that swung between his muscular thighs. He was fully nude now, standing in front of you, his tan skin glistening in the sunlight. You’re quick to urge him over with a finger.

He pounces, but once he’s crawling over you on that narrow chair, he becomes slow.

“Hi.” You manage to whimper out, now feeling a bit small beneath him, feeling nervous even.

“Hey.” He’s just as nervous but there’s an energy that goes beyond either of your wills pulling you toward one another.

He kisses you. It’s a kiss you melt into, and he sinks his body against yours, with you spreading your legs so he can slot between them. His cock rests against your lower abdomen, his body pressing further into you.

You can’t help but slide your hand between your two bodies in an attempt to finger yourself, prepare yourself, but he stops you and pulls back.

“No.” He growls.

“No?” Is he going to leave you like this?!

“Let me.”

And you do. Chan lowers himself, adjusting you so he can easily bend over the chair while kneeling on the ground, and his hands shake as he dips the tip of his fingers into the hem of your bottoms, just slightly tugging at the material, playing with it before he starts to play with you. You’ve got the perfect view of him basically drooling over you.

He slides the bottoms to the side, but you pull at the strings at your hips, so they come undone and he pulls them away completely. Your lips and the juices coming from between them are just as glossy than your oiled skin.

He can’t help but dig in. Fucking you with his mouth, jamming his fingers in you. It’s an animalistic frenzy and it’s hot and slippery and sticky. You cum and your fluids spill over the impermeable cushion below, pooling under your ass. He can see every sparkling droplet fall from you.

It’s just a haze, he nearly jumps on you, bending your legs nearly over your head, bouncing his pelvis on your cunt like a trampoline, smacking with every thrust. You’re completely glued to one another. If he’s not abusing your mouth with his tongue then he’s biting on your shoulder or grunting, growling, into your ear. It’s filthy. You’re absolutely sure you’ve never been fucked like this.

He cums, several times, as do you. He pulls out each time, jerks himself off on your body, although a couple of times you urged him into your mouth and face. He pulls the triangles on your top to the sides, so your breasts are exposed. He made sure to cum on those too. Semen, sweat, squirt, oil, spit, everywhere there are droplets of your fluids shining on your body like jewels.

It ends with him lying on top of you, nearly sleeping from exhaustion, and your lips feel deliciously sore and sensitive, almost ticklish as he softens inside of you.

It happens again. Several times in fact. Many, many times. When his parents are away, when your mom is away, you fuck all the time. Just a little call of his name over the fence or from your window and he’d be running to you. You were too comfortable with one another to bother with formalities, it was like you’d never been separated. You’d wait for him on all fours, wet cunt on display for him to dive in, but he’d always greet you with a gentle kiss.

Fucking each others faces, drinking eachothers fluids. You even let him fuck you in the ass, multiple times, and he was the first guy to make you cum that way. You were just as hooked and as desperate as he was.

Things started to change though.

The welcoming kisses became longer, you’d talk between the rounds…

You’d fall asleep in his arms, or he in yours.

You’d fuck slowly, deeply, staring into each other’s eyes.

You’d talk to him, tell each other stories of all these years, asi if you had been together the entire time.

You’d smile as you made love, gently. You’d let him cum inside of you.

He’d hold your hand again. They were as soft and warm as you remembered.

You were holding his hand on one particular pink evening, your head resting on his heaving chest, teaching circles into his pecs and nipples. On your bed, in your quiet childhood room. It was a painful silence now. It had been weeks, weeks closer to your respective departure dates.

“I wish I had never left.” He eventually says. You don’t know what to say. “I wish we could have stayed like this for longer.”

“Maybe we would have broken up eventually, or left for college.” You ponder.

“Maybe I would have taken you to prom, or we would have had sex together for the first time…” He returns.

“On this bed? Hmm? With my cute school uniform?” You tease. “Yeah, maybe.”

“But I guess this is what was meant to be.” He sighs, as do you.

“I’m sorry.” Is all you can say.

“What for?”

“I don’t know, I just feel bad. I started this and now we have to go our separate ways again.” You feel something sting in your eye. You can’t cry now.

“Shh…” He coos as he hears you sniffle and feels you twitch. It makes his heart ache like it did all those years ago when he left.

“I - I…” You cry. “I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to go.”

He pulls you into his arms, crushing you in an embrace. Your eyes are closed but you feel the tears fall from his face, he’s crying too.

“I know… but what else can we do?”

There was nothing left to do, other than fuck the days away, crying, holding each other until it hurt. It was a horrible, horrible thing to have fallen in love with Christopher Bang this final summer.

You didn’t go with him to the airport. You didn’t want to say goodbye, you didn’t want to see where he was going.

But he did slip into your room that final night. You made love quietly, he kissed you as you cried.

He said it was the second time he loved you, and the second time he had to leave you.

It hurt much more this time around. Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, maybe you shouldn’t have gone next door.

Being in your house was unbearable once Chris wasn’t next door.

A week later, you’ve arrived at your new place. It had been a whirlwind and you stayed at a hotel the first couple of nights while your new furniture got brought in, most of your personal belongings only fitting in a couple of bags.

It’s kept you busy. That way you think about him a little less. Crying into pillows that have that certain ‘brand new’ smell isn’t quite as comforting as you’d expect. Everything seems unfamiliar, strange, artificial. Nothing here reminded you of him - it was for the best and you hated it.

The place is nice, bright. It’s on the third floor of a small apartment building, a couple of other doors beside yours in the hall. You go downstairs to grab a few packages that have arrived, carefully treading up the stairs in a kind of balancing act once they’re piled in your arms. It’s a choreography you can dance to with expertise, always denying any help from your neighbors.

However, you do fumble with the lock and handle once you’re at your door, holding the boxes up by pressing them against the door with your body as your hands blindly fumble with the keys, nothing but cardboard in your sight.

Nothing you can’t handle, until they start to slip.

“Woah, let me help you with that!” someone says behind you, and in your complicated state it’s a bit difficult to process what happens but the boxes are soon out of the way, said someone pulling them from you and freeing you.

And then you see him.

Him.

Your him.

He says your name and you’re too stunned to react. He’s in awe too. He drops your packages, and you’re certain some of them contain some makeup palettes but you don’t give a damn at the moment.

“What are you doing here?” You finally ask, frozen in place.

“I… live in 304.” He says.

“You live in 304?” He nods. “You? You’re serious?” He nods again, eyes still wide.

You both stand there, processing it all. This can’t be real.

“I live in 302.” you manage to say, after some time. Your voice is weak, all the air has left your lungs. You shake.

“You do?” He asks. Now you nod.

This can’t be.

But he cups your face, holds it like you’re precious and delicate, he kisses you. It is real. You kiss him back, harder. Eventually you’re both clinging to one another, gripping each other’s clothes desperately.

“You live here.” He says, little tears sparkling in the corner of his eyes. You nod, the same tears coming to you.

“I do. Mm-hmm.” The sniffles you let out seem so sweet to him, he swoons with how happy you are to see him. Knowing you feel the same joy he does - it makes him feel complete.

“I live here too!” He cries, laughing, smiling, beautifully.

One more kiss, just to make sure it’s real. You pull him in and kiss him one more time.

It’s real.

[dathen]

Absolutely obsessed with the character insights we got about Georgie, Melanie, and their relationship this week, but ESPECIALLY Georgie--not because we got new information, but we were given a lens to view all her past choice and interactions with.

Some friends and I have been analyzing those choices for months and had speculated a lot of it, and today’s episode was the final, most validating piece of the puzzle.  It all comes down to her trauma and how that has affected her, and how that affects the choices she makes and then rationalized.

I loved hearing from Melanie that Georgie struggles with the fact she can no longer feel fear, which leads to her doubting her own ability to have accurate, instinctual judgment, which leads her to overcompensate and throw up barriers more extreme than the situation calls for.  Which then leads to her possibly feeling guilty about who is left outside those barriers, which then leads to her rationalizing that choice as the only possible solution.

This works together inextricably with Georgie’s concept of Her Own.  She is so fiercely protective of Her Own and will defend them to lengths most people wouldn’t, but who belongs to that group shifts drastically over the course of the series:

>> In season 3, Jon belonged to this group.  She lied to the police for him without hesitation, and shrugged off a mannequin with a body count invading her home.  Even Jon was worried that her lack of fear was making her too accepting of the danger he brought to her--this is what pushed him to actually move out.  Even as Jon left to avoid drawing danger to Georgie, she insisted “don’t be a stranger!” (Georgie pls...) and was very open that he was welcome back, and that she wanted to continue their friendship

>> In the s3-s4 hiatus, Georgie regularly visited Jon’s body in the hospital during his coma.  He was still one of Her Own.  During this time she was no longer in contact with Melanie--Melanie hadn’t joined that group yet.  

>> In season 4, Jon wakes up reeking of The End, an eerie echo of Georgie’s traumatic experience with the corpses in university.  In an instant, he is no longer one of Her Own.  She goes from “it’s fine if people trying to kill you break into my house, you can still stay here!” to overcompensating with “if I even answer a single phone call or explain why I’ve stopped talking to you, it’s too much.”

>> Later in season 4, after Melanie is freed from the Slaughter, she gets in touch with Georgie again.  Georgie shows the same instant boundless help that she showed Jon in s3: Melanie is one of Her Own.  Georgie rationalizes this choice by inventing many harsh differences between Melanie and Jon, which she later tells Martin--and later realizes were wrong.

>> In season 5, the cultists are now part of Georgie’s Own.  “Saving the world” is too big, too abstract; she can survive, she can help Her Own survive.  She doesn’t even risk saving her cat because her cat might threaten Her Own.  Jon...oddly enough, is in the same category as the Admiral.  Someone Georgie cares about, but may be a threat, and who will no longer be welcome if he proves to be a threat.  Georgie’s worry of overextending herself likely got validated and exacerbated even more when she “greedily” tried to save too many people from the nightmare realms and lost most of those she’d already saved.  

This doesn’t make her a bad person, or a cold one, or an uncaring one.  But she’s made some choices she regrets, and it’s clear she wants to make good choices from now on.  It’s so good to hear that Melanie is willing to tell her when she feels she’s heading in this direction again, and even better to hear how receptive she is to it.  

[hurricanes-art]

i am interested in your hades au, would you mind giving some details about it? 👁 it looks really interesting

[This AU is from these drawings!]

*cracks knuckles* Ok! I actually got enough sleep last night so I'm finally feeling up to explaining this au lmao

Also I hope that by “some details” you meant “way way too many” because I am nothing if not long winded. Also @hades-hellsite asked for context too, here you go

The central premise is that, after he dies, Achilles manages to make an arrangement with Hades that allows both him and Patroclus to stay in Elysium together. He's not employed to work at the house and he never becomes Zagreus's combat trainer.

Hades makes a few attempts to find Zagreus a different teacher among the shades of great warriors, but being skilled does not make someone able to teach. And being able to teach one way doesn't mean someone will be good for every student. When Zagreus doesn't learn well with the few mentors Hades tries, which he barely gives a chance to breathe anyway, he's quick to decide that he must have no martial ability and declares Zagreus a failure in that as he has about so many things.

This has two major effects on Zagreus before his escape attempts begin. One, without any chance to actually grow into aptitude in combat, he's left without anything substantial to put his energy into and, more importantly, he's left without anything he feels good at and that gives value to his efforts. Two is that, in Achilles' absence, very few people in the house give him any care and support untwisted by the politics of the house and the judgment of his father. There is Orpheus, kind to him before Hades locks him away for refusing to sing, Hypnos, willing to put the house to sleep so he can find the truth though jumbled up in his own problems, and Nyx.

Nyx is the only one to aid Zagreus when he decides to try to escape. She contacts Olympus and weaves careful lies to win their support and blesses his departure. She's also the only one who believes that Zagreus has the slightest chance of escaping. Already in canon, most everyone tells him there no way he'll make it out, but here, it's so much worse. He doesn't know how to fight, his initial attempts are pitiful and his progress negligible, and near everyone lashes out at him to get back in line and stop making things worse.

He doesn't even have the Infernal Arms. Achilles is the one who brings them to him in canon; here Zagreus takes a simple bronze sword from one of the house's many displays of weapons from wars long past. He thanks the Fates that the Styx restores it the same way it does his body when he dies because he nicks and dulls the edges every time.

Despite all the disadvantages, Zagreus throws himself into escaping with unshakable determination, bone deep stubbornness. He picks up his sword and will figure out how to use it himself. Experience will be his teacher. He dies over and over and he watches his enemies and learns how they move and how he must react, mimicking their attacks for his own use and adjusting and adjusting after each failure. And contrary to Hades' adamant belief, Zagreus is very intelligent and learns brilliantly when allowed to and he grows stronger and stronger.

There's no teacher more savage than experience in something like this, though. The pursuit is agonizing and the cost is enormous and adjusting to this ceaseless violence feels impossible.

Much of my interest in this idea is how the added strain on his circumstances and relationships affects Zagreus and his mental state. At his best, Zag looks a lot like he does in canon, with his laurels unfurled and vibrant, and his feet glowing hot, but he rarely feels his best here. His laurel leaves curl in dry and crisp, muted like the leaves of autumn. Flakes of ash and soot build up over his legs and encase more and more as he suffers. So deep is his feeling of failure and being trapped that it affects him physically.

Not always, though. His flames respond to his emotions, burn brighter in his passion. Enthusiasm, love, fervor, bliss, anger set him glowing.

After a brutally drawn out span of time, Zagreus meets Achilles and Patroclus in Elysium and tbh, the rest of my interest is really in how the altered circumstances change the evolution of their relationships with each other. The pair of warriors were never separated for an extended time and Achilles is less downtrodden and resigned and Patroclus is less bitter and abrasive when Zagreus stumbles upon them.

They don't fight him, which Zagreus counts among his greatest blessings, although Achilles still seems to have an interest. It makes him twitchy and he jumps when Achilles finally lifts his spear and swings it around in his third time in their little glade only to bump the flat of the blade against elbow and tell him to keep it in more towards his body. Zagreus blinks rapidly at him before adjusting his arm.

Achilles helps him here and there, tips and tricks and valuable advice, but he never gives anything near the thorough instruction he did in canon. On one hand, he doesn't need to. Zagreus is a self made fighter and it leaves him with weaknesses but it is also a powerful thing. He is unpredictable and incredibly adaptable and he only continues to improve.

On the other hand, there's no room for it. Achilles is gentle with his guidance, but Zagreus is rubbed raw by all the fighting he's done and all that still depends on it. He doesn't want to always focus on the weapon in his hands. Patroclus notices and curbs Achilles' input when it exceeds its bounds. He sits aside and observers carefully when they spar. Zagreus doesn't need another's direction which is fine by him, who's lost all desire for combat. He gives his aid through his assortment of trinkets that carry Zagreus further to the surface.

Zagreus barely knows what to do with himself in the face of their care. He's so unaccustomed to such generous and genuine support, interest devoid of expectation or blame. As familiarity between the three of them grows, their interactions grow warmer, more tender and comfortable. Their care lays on a foundation, not a hinge, and Zagreus grapples with understanding that he really can lean on it. It all leaves him so uncertain yet so desperate because he wants more than anything to have joy and conversation and company with others where he doesn't shoulder heavy guilt from unspoken accusations over his escaping the house and to have a place he feels he belongs without being an intrusion.

He does at first believe he's intruding, though. Intruding on their time together in the peace of Elysium. It takes them time to convince him that they value his presence immeasurably. The opportunity to stay together in the Underworld has been invaluable for Achilles and Patroclus, but the peace of Elysium is a deceptive thing. It wears away and prickles at them, pressing down in odd warping ways. Patroclus is beyond pleased to have the war behind him and that it can never force him to fight again, and despite Achilles retaining an interest in competition and combat, he does feel the same way. Having a cause though, something to believe in and worth devoting their efforts towards... They didn't realize how deeply they missed it until Zagreus. It is revitalizing. They thrive in his genuine, boundless kindness and long to support him.

The drawings of Orpheus arguing with Hades and Zagreus fighting with Nyx is from one of my plot point ideas. Later down the line, together, Hades, Persephone, and Nyx agree to forbid Zagreus from seeing Achilles and Patroclus at Nyx's behest. Similarly to how she talks about Dusa in canon, she sees mortal shades as beneath his station and that it's highly unbecoming for the prince to be consorting with them. Zagreus fights against the idea ferociously and is only smothered by the threat that, if he seeks them out anyway, Hades will void Achilles' agreement and have Patroclus moved to the proper plane of the Underworld.

It crushes Zagreus. He loves them and cares about them so much and being torn apart from them is a wound that cuts so deep. But even more than that, what breaks him open most, is the fact that it came from someone he cared for and trusted most. Nyx was the one person in the House he could depend on most and this betrayal at her hand is devastating. And for such a worthless reason as propriety and godly vanity. It's not her place to force those upon him. It hurts Zagreus to the core.

Orpheus is the only one willing to stick up for him in this, deeply empathetic to the grief of being separated from loved ones and well acquainted with the fact that such punishments will only damage, never correct. After all, his stint of punishment in Erebus didn't revive his desire to sing, it was Zagreus's dedication and vibrancy that did that. One of the many invaluable gifts Zagreus gave him, including reuniting him with Eurydice, making him happier than he'd been since her death. Orpheus can't keep biting his tongue when all these gods refuse to see any of this.

It all comes to a head dramatically and painfully and I've thought of a few variations on how it would play out. I'll leave it for now though, I might draw it or write it later >:3c  Also this got really long lol. Hopefully the idea is at least somewhat interesting!

And here, have the lines from these two drawings because I like the way they look

[remsmoonlight]

— title : a sweet truth

— word count : 2.1k words

— pairing : john wich x reader

— summary : you get an overwhelming need to share with John how you feel, unable to keep it to yourself anymore, leaving only the good to follow.

— warnings : none, issa soft one

note: my first one shot back and it’s john of course! anyways i need to binge the movies again because this man’s voice was difficult to master this time around, now i will be getting to requests now i have indulged myself oops

                    ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*   requests are open !   *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The dull crackle that runs mindlessly beneath the audio of the radio is the only sound that can be heard illuminating the space of the bedroom where you and John lay contently together. He’d offered to repair the object, or even buy another but you refused stubbornly — remarking that it gives it a certain endearing charm. You had joked that it reminds you of him. In the sense that while it has a flaw, it was able to bring joy and amusement to a person’s life. It’s humbling to know that even the John Wick was human, that he had his flaws despite being difficult to witness them in the flesh.

It took a lot for John to bare the darkest and most damaged parts of his conscience. He couldn’t go another day where his mind leapt endlessly to conclusions, his mind conjuring haunting images of your departing body that would eventually come to pass — to him, it was inevitable. He fully convinced himself he was hallucinating when you had not retreated in fear, with the look of disgust cosying up to your reflection, but the opposite. He is still a man greatly feared by a whole world beneath yours, yet you still gaze upon him with nothing but warmth.

You will your mind to focus on the words from the small object, yet it’s the heat that is emitting from his body in waves that prevent you from fully taking in what is being said, its presence doing more to provide white noise than entertainment. The minor glint in your gaze turns upwards to drag your sight across the body that half lays on top of you.

Like vines, to be found in a twist of limbs that would be almost difficult to distinguish what belongs to who is a common occurrence, the sense of shielded from the scorching realities that the world bares boldly is an addicting concoction that you can only find with him. Your heart swells tenfold at the mere thought of him and being here in such a simple way that holds so much affection just for two people.

“ What ? “

The suddenness of his voice lifts you from your thoughts that run their own race, a shy lift of your lips can be seen twirling gracefully in response.

“ Nothing, I’m just thinking. “

“ Thinking? “ he asks you, a light hint of laughter gently coating the question with a feather-like touch. “ Are you trying to scare me? “

Eyes widen in response to what he says, a heavy burst of air plummeting to the soft mattress below the two of you. “ Don’t be so rude! “ A short chuckle trails behind your reply, secretly loving the cheeky side of his personality coming out to peek out.

You’ve realised that he has a warmth whenever you’re together, but even still he maintains an air of such seriousness you’re surprised he has not collapsed under the pressure of holding such a wall up with his bare hands, these moments are the kind that you paint mentally — a still of this moment in a thousand shades of gold. Upon your first meeting of his, you’d never associate that with him, with how intimidating and stone faced he was, it would be a honeyed lie if someone would have described him in such a way but here he is. Not a honeyed lie but a sweet tasting truth that you never want to be without again.

“ I’m sorry. “ he apologises as the amusement in his tones still very much present that would aim to refer to him as a hypocrite, but it’s not spoken with vitriol, his words directed towards you rarely contain any harshness. “ Tell me, I’m curious. “

It’s a minor debate that dances with only itself, zig zagging with a biro pen that creates a mess of lines converging at multiple points to create a tangle plot point that should not be as complicated as it’s being made out. Neither of you have muttered the L word, not even under your breath in passing and the one dominating emotion you can feel overwhelming your body entirely is incredibly close to it.. but is it too soon? Even as a description? It’s a fear you can feel tickling your neck from behind, whispering stained words of discouragement, but if you have learnt anything, it’s that hiding your feelings will be worse off in the long run. Never can a human being strive for the euphoria of authentic happiness clutched in their fist when they lock away their thoughts and their desires in a box to gather age and dust — leaving behind a hollow shell of what could have been had it the opportunity to bud and grow.

“ Well.. “ you begin, your sight lowering to meet the sight of his neck, unable to look him in the eyes fully and you approach the topic. “ I was thinking about you. “

“ Yeah? “

“ I’m just.. happy. More than I thought I could be and it’s you I have to thank. “ Your shoulders shrug as best they can from your position laying down on the bed.

“ I think I should be the one saying that. “ he replies softly, his words ringing truer than they could ever be realised to be as he leans down to leave behind a ghost of a peck behind your ear. It’s an action that is short and sweet.

Never did John imagine himself being rewarded for being the architect in more tragedies and more horrors than he could ever recall. Though, he soon realised your presence was rather the opposite, a ticket to a greener field void of bloodied bargains and death, and should he keep you in his life that would be an opportunity he would not let pass him by in a sea of missed chances left to drown due to his lack of motivation. He gazes upon you fondly in affection, a hand reaching up to draw mindless circles in the back of your hair, memories of his last bargain to leave his previous life playing before him as if an old gritty movie.

“ Stop it, John. I haven’t done a thing! “ your nose wrinkles as you refute what he says with a bashful glint that explodes in your gaze. After all the time you’d spent together and you still refuse to see yourself in the way John has painted you in —

“ You’ve done more for me than you realise. “

It feels like yesterday you shared your first kiss, fondly remembering how you’d mentally remarked that it’s so unfair that what is between you should be so perfect, a cruel joke were it not to work out. Though your heart is full of gratitude when you still tell yourself that not a worry should be had, your need for a physical reminder as you move your hand to his clothed back — bringing him closer as if to burn a permanent reminder into your fingertips.

“ I guess that’s why we compliment each other so well, huh? “

A wispy sigh plummets, your thoughts and emotions mixing more and more into a blend of intensity as you fully realise just how much you have fallen and adore the man who shares your bed. It has been such a long time you have had these emotions to this degree rouse from, what has felt like, an endless slumber. Yes, there had been a few who had caught your eye, but compared to the substance that has been created and nurtured from you both, they had nothing more than a water drop in a boundless and enduring sea. It’s a hope of yours that you don’t look foolish before him, getting so emotional over something like this, you scold yourself mentally — trying to pull yourself together before you completely crumble.

“ What’s wrong? “

“ It’s nothing, really. “ you shake your head, accompanying the almost denial. You want to let everything in your heart free, but the question is how to without scaring him off. There’s not much that can scare him, but you’d rather not throw a spanner in the flawless equation.

“ You don’t have to tell me, but it might help if you do. “ John lends a soothing weight in your hand as he interlocks your fingers together, leaving the choice completely up to you, refusing to force you to share something that is so personal to you. “ it’s your call. “

“ It’s nothing crazy.. “

The side of John’s brain that has been hardwired to jump to every scenario imaginable — good and bad, is running rampant. Itching to be prepared so nothing is able to disrupt the perfect day dream of a life that had only been made available through television shows and movies, now that he has it, every day he promises to never let it be ruined. Nothing good can ever occur from ripping away the first drop of water that touches a person starved of it for days, only a troublesome path of anger can walk that path on its twisted and turned limbs.

“ I think it’s time that I tell you how I feel, “ you state, your lips almost devouring your lips by how hard they bite them, a lost thought of how you have not drawn a drop of blood seeping into irrelevancy. “ how I really feel. “

“ Right? “

For the first time, John is completely unable to get a read of you. The apprehension that is emitting off you in strong waves is not something that comforts him fully, though the fact that you speak not from anger and have opted to stay in your current position as opposed to fleeing is the only source of relief he can continue to draw energy from. Curiosity is the only thing that dominates his mind, wanting desperately to hear the next part of your statement.

In his silence, your brows furrow purely from your own thoughts. Mainly in the wonder of how you can approach this while sounding as if you have capacity and are not obsessed with him as some are with their idols. You know that would be something that would probably scare him off. Your fingertips lay a random beat on the top of his hand, you nestle closer to him as to make yourself comfortable — this does feel like the right time. Should it not? You remind yourself that it is part of a plan that the universe has for you, that it is part of a bigger picture you are not allowed to know until the final moment.

“ I just, “ you pause, blinking as you gather your thoughts and your words further. “ It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything remotely close to this. “

Your words are like a cozy kiss goodnight before two lovers depart until the next time they see each other, a warmth that slowly grows in his heart overspills at the sentiment you individually wrap with each word you speak. He can’t help but tip his head ever so slightly, to take in every detail on your features — in his mind, nothing is more so perfect than this moment.

“ What I’m trying to say is, and you don’t have to say anything — “ the rambling leaves your lips so effortlessly, as if to savour the last few moments of normally before the inevitable confession. “ I can’t help but realise how much I am in love with you. “

His eyes widen instantaneously as his features follow suit, his lips part in surprise. With how your speech had begun, it should not have come as a surprise, yet to hear it from your lips is as pleasant as the final summer’s day, surrounded by warmth and an impenetrable energy that shields you from any harm that would befall you. He’d lived the life of a haunting ghost story that it soon became a belief that he was a monster, to hear you in this moment recite something so real is something that is difficult for him to wrap his head around. Maybe he isn’t a monster that has made its peace with the darkness, that there is more for him as a person.

The emptiness is soon replaced by a soft weight on your lips, he has leans down to join you — unable to fight the desire to savour the taste of him as you often do when you kiss. It’s a fight you have not yet one, and it’s a fight you imagine you would prefer losing. Time is no longer a concept, you’re too wrapped up in the concept turned reality that is John Wick, only are you able to concentrate on the burning that his free hand leaves as they slide up and down your waist. If this is a dream, neither of you want to awaken.

“ Who says I’m not feeling the same as you? “

[cancerjupiter]

🔥 fire moons 🔥

aries moon

Probably the simplest, most bluntly honest and emotionally direct of all the Moon signs, they tend to be single-minded when involved in their latest enthusiasm, not liking to be bothered (least of all by “emotional” distractions or someone else’s “personal needs”). Most of them will have thousands of such interests in their lives, each of which takes on a feeling of pressing importance and tremendous urgency … until they lose interest when the source of excitement is no longer new. Very action-oriented and thus often a bit pushy, they frequently react impatiently, even when they are not nearly so annoyed or irritated as others may assume from their explosive behavior. Aries above all needs new challenges throughout their lives. Often fearless, the one fear Aries Moon does have is fear of boredom. They always need a new challenge.

They are usually poor listeners, not just because of their obsessive self-interest but also because they tend to jump to conclusions (unless they have, say, lots of Gemini or Libra in their charts, in which case the result is people who can be superb at “active listening”—quickly grasping the essentials and energetically giving lots of instant feedback). Actually, as one perceptive woman with Aries Moon pointed out to me, they need to feel that they are not influenced by others, and therefore they appear not to be listening to others’ advice or observations. And yet, months later, they may inadvertently reveal that they heard it very well and even reflected on it and accepted it later.

Easily bored, restless, rather self-centered, they are by nature competitive—even though many of them don’t like to acknowledge it. They simply have to be the best at everything! As one woman wrote, “Two women I know with Aries Moon are domineering. They think they know all the answers, and that they are always right” (AQ). However, even though instinctively competitive, they do not tend to hold a grudge since they move on to their next interest so quickly—unless they see the other person as an enemy to their freedom who is trying to control or limit them. They are in fact extremely self-sufficient; they prefer independence and the freedom to act without restriction and rarely seek any kind of input from others.

Women with Aries Moon (or Sun for that matter) often use “toxic masculinity” at least in a gentle, non doctrinaire way, because they respect strength and competitiveness, and thus have little time for weeping and moaning from others.

Men with Aries Moon tend to expect a lot from women. In women it gives a strong sense of purpose and freedom.

A thirty-year-old female wrote the following about men with Moon in Aries:

“They seem to totally involve their attention in a very direct and powerful way in the scrutiny of new “data,” often to the extent of monopolizing conversations or others’ attention until their interest wanes or changes focus. They’re also very self-centered: their ideas, their action, their feelings come first, and they don’t usually have a lot of empathy for the needs or feelings of others; they’ll listen, but they’re not consistently good with feedback or support.”

Aries Moon can be outspoken and tactless. Their emotional reactions to stimuli seem raw, completely spontaneous and uncensored.

leo moon

Those with Leo Moon react warmly, generously, and often with enthusiasm and/or humor. There is a childlike simplicity about them, and in fact their notable pride often resembles that of a child as well. These people need recognition and demonstrative affection, and their pride is often hurt if such attention is not given in sufficient and public ways. Like all the fixed signs (Taurus, Scorpio, and Aquarius being the others), Leo is a sign of extremes; and it is therefore difficult to paint a balanced picture of their personal tendencies. They are often shallow and prone to flattery, and yet they have considerable personal integrity, which is not usually compromised. Needing to live up to a big and rather dramatized image of themselves, the Leo Moon person can be rather a show-off. But they do it with such innocence and high expectations that they are often forgiven for their tendency toward self-absorption and dramatization. In fact, it seems they are so in need of attention and so childlike themselves that in very few cases do they have room for children in their lives, even though they often have a natural way with kids and can be great parents. Although not a scientific fact, all the Leo Moons I can think of offhand have either no children or only one child.

They can be loyal, sometimes blindly loyal to the point of foolish behavior that has a negative impact on everyone concerned; and they can be generous (but they do not mind if others notice their benevolence). Shortsightedness is perhaps one of Leo Moon’s worst faults. Some “cannot see past the ends of their noses” and are so self-absorbed that they do not even notice others’ reactions to their sometimes obnoxious, grandiose behavior. This shortsightedness surprisingly extends to their understanding of their own potential. It has always amazed me how many Leo Moon people (with innate talents and ability in abundance!) sell themselves short and wind up worldly failures in comparison to what they had the ability to do. I cannot help but suspect that one reason for this is that their huge pride prevents them from ever listening to (or asking for) honest feedback about themselves. Perhaps they secretly fear that they are not quite up to their self-image. They are known for being insulted easily, so they naturally do not want to expose their fragile ego to criticism, no matter how well-intentioned. But unless they develop a deeper self-understanding and the ability to accept authentic personal communication from others, they may remain engaging in their earnestness and simplicity, but it can eventually wear thin, like a person who never grows up.

Leo Moon people have a capacity for encouraging others that can be extremely supportive and strengthening in a crisis. They can be as solid a support system as one could ever want, but in other cases they seem fanatically convinced that they are having a great, positive impact on others (regardless of the truth) and they want to be thanked for it. Being admired is a central need in many with this Moon placement. (Note that Leo Moon is much more passive than Leo Sun, who is usually busy creating and doing.) There is a deep-down feeling of needing to live up to an image of bigness and greatness, even if they wind up resenting others for not noticing all that they have given. In short, the vast range of Leo Moon personalities evokes extreme reactions, and they are probably included in anyone’s list of people whom one has either deeply loved or strongly resented! Note the extreme and varied qualities noted about Leo Moon in this questionnaire response:

“People with the Moon in Leo always like to be on top of things. They like attention and some can be easily appealed to through the ego. Moon in Leo makes for dynamic personal expression. These people tend to make their presence felt.… the person often tries very hard to make others see them as somebody special, getting mixed reactions from others. While tending to be somewhat opinionated these people can make good listeners, can be very concerned, very caring even if a little overbearing. Moon in Leo is gregarious, dynamic, and can be very creative.”

Another perceptive observation about them:

“Moons in Leo are emotionally melodramatic. They’re easily upset, and tend to get fixated on what they’re feeling, sometimes to the point that their feelings become a major issue in which everyone around them has to participate. They like the excitement of having everyone’s attention on them, even when the price for that is an argument or some kind of conflict. Once they’ve satisfied themselves that they have everyone’s full attention, they’ll usually happily drop the issue and magnanimously allow someone else the “spotlight.” They’re performers.”

sagittarius moon

Tolerant, broad-minded, with a buoyant attitude toward life, those with Sagittarius Moon are idealistic by nature and instinctively react with a philosophical attitude toward any setback, knowing that the future (not the past!) is what matters. They are most comfortable when exploring ideas, ideals, or outdoor places and love a sense of freedom without limits. The distant horizon is always felt as more appealing than the here and now. They particularly need mental freedom (including religious and spiritual room to improve themselves), since their aspirations are not just high but boundless. In fact, the term “upbeat” was invented by a Sagittarius Moon! As one Sag Moon woman always repeated as her mantra, “I see the glass as half-full, not half-empty.” They like to entertain groups of people with their humor. In fact, they want to say yes to every opportunity; they want to feel that life is unbounded by any limits, and so they tend to instinctively promise far more than they can ever deliver. They assume, I suppose, that everyone else forgets as many immediate details as they do, a habit that backfires when angry friends and colleagues confront them demanding to know why the promise did not follow through. As a questionnaire reply asserted, “A need to be all things to all people” characterizes Sagittarius Moon. Generosity and “bigness” are dominant factors in their lives and in their sense of reality and self-image.

Sagittarius is the sign most likely to be oblivious to the realities right in front of them that are obvious to everyone else, so focused are they on the distant goal. Since the road to hell is paved with good intentions, Sagittarius Moon people need to be sure that their goals and ideals are grounded in what is truly possible. They do need a large guiding vision to motivate them in life, but they also need periodic times of self-examination to assess whether they are themselves living up to their ideals. They like to preach to others (usually “helpfully,” in their view), but if something does not work out, well, that is not their problem. Sagittarius Moon people rather dislike the heaviness of daily “reality” and personal or emotional problems.

They have difficulty handling any criticism and often in fact become more indignant than any other sign—a pride that is usually hidden and often surprises others who take their positive, happy demeanor at face value. As Donna Cunningham wrote, “The things that set Sagittarius Moon people off are having one of their pet theories or convictions demolished”. This pride, manifesting at times as a rather exalted view of oneself (perhaps as the only one who can reveal the “truth”), is part of the dualistic nature of Sagittarius, the symbol for which is the centaur—half horse and half human. Sagittarius has the lifelong task of integrating their more idealistic nature with their more unrefined, impulsive, egocentric tendencies. At their worst, they are so proud of their “honesty” (sometimes viewed by other people as tactless bluntness) and of their own moral or intellectual righteousness that—unless more humble or sensitive factors are also dominant in the chart—they can be so uncompromising in their mode of expression that they are often perceived as inconsiderate and unnecessarily hurtful.

Perhaps the key for Sagittarius Moon people to feel authentically at home with themselves is to apply their honesty to themselves as bluntly as they express it to others! They often think too highly of themselves and want to project an admirable image to others. They like to feel idealistic and upstanding, but if they look at themselves honestly, they often have to admit that they are not as impeccably honorable as they like to think; for they can rationalize their behavior as well as anyone when it is convenient or advantageous to do so. Sagittarius Moon is thus a good example of the fact that how people feel about themselves (always directly related to the Moon in anyone’s birth chart) is not necessarily how others see them and their behavior.

A couple quotations from questionnaires can round out this description of Sagittarius Moon:

“Easygoing, gets along with and accepts strangers without discrimination—though sometimes self-righteous and snobbish. Independent emotionally, doesn’t seem to need so much from one as they can get from many.”

“Moon in Sagittarius can be very high-minded, they respond very actively to life. These people can try to push others or just be domineering in general. They can be a little pushy but this is generally out of enthusiasm. For both sexes, can be very direct. For men—very honest in attitude, they say what is on their mind. For women this is also a very blunt placement. Both sexes can often be tactless; they speak the truth as they see it and figure that others should just accept it no matter how hard it is to swallow.”

[yan-twst]

hi! could i please request yan azul, kalim, leona and malleus with their darling figuring out abt them,, yknow being yanderes and trys to flat out look and act unappealing and/or just basically be the opposite of what theyd want in a s/o, as an attempt to try and get them off their back?? 

warnings: general yandere themes, mentions of physical violence

azul ashengrotto

the problem with azul’s attraction is that it comes from his own insecurities rather than him attaching to some aspect of his darling

perhaps they somehow reassured him when he was feeling low, perhaps they accidentally said something that soothed his insecurities- maybe it was something as simple as them always being nice to him without him ever having done anything for them; once he first gets an inkling of interest, it snowballs into an obsession and a desire to have them reassure him and keep him company

his darling starts to notice something is off when azul suddenly seems to be almost always pestering them to form a contract with him, when they can feel the tweel’s eyes on them throughout the day. it- it feels wrong to say he’s stalking them, but fuck, it sure feels like it

every day it seems to increase a little- the stalking, the pressuring, the way he’s trying to force himself closer to them, and it feels like a ticking time bomb. it’s as if every day they put off a contract or avoid him, the pressure’s building up, but they don’t know to what. but they can tell that if this goes on for longer, something is going to happen

azul notices when they stop taking as much care of themselves. they’re disheveled, hair messy and uniform wrinkled; not something bad enough that they’d get in trouble, but just so enough that it seems they’re actively trying to appear “unappealing”. too bad for them, though; in his love-addled mind, he dreams of them holding him, caressing him and telling him he’s loved, he’s good- the fact they’re not put together doesn’t affect him that much

of course, if they realize that what azul is fixated on is how they treated him and try to do the opposite of that- being rude to him, then that’s just making things go worse. azul was obsessed with them before, yes, but once they start acting rudely to him it just makes him snap

no more waiting. he was trying to get them tied up in a contract, lure them in until they were too far in and couldn’t leave him; but once they burst his little bubble by being rude to him, once they snap the fantasy version of them in his head (the fantasy version of them that’s always at his beck and call, always reassuring them and telling him how great he is, that adores all he does with no questions)- he’s suddenly craving their kindness again, and he doesn’t care how he has to get it

that really might be a fast route to getting dragged by floyd into a dorm room- azul’s room- and be confronted with a desperate azul

suddenly bombarded with questions- why did they do this? is he not enough? did they find someone else? it’s that bastard who sits next to them, isn’t it? what does he have that azul doesn’t? he can take it from him- he can be better than that guy, he promises! why isn’t he enough? why don’t they love him? why why why why-

it’s dizzying, and they realize just a bit too late the door is locked- and it’s going to stay that way. azul might regain his composure, but going back to his usual self from his little crybaby side doesn’t mean he’s suddenly letting them go; no matter in what state he’s in, making them his is all he has on his mind

kalim al-asim

the problem with kalim is that it’s so hard to tell his love is something far worse, far more dangerous, bordering into obsession until it’s too late

he’s just so naturally loving and affectionate; it’s not weird for him to always invite the same person over, not weird for him to be hugging them, it just doesn’t raise any alarms for him to shower them in expensive gifts that they didn’t ask for, it’s just not unusual for him to compliment them so sweetly every time he sees them

after all, he’s just known for being adorable and sweet and nice. if anything, onlookers might think he has a puppy crush and find the whole thing adorable

hell, outside of the discomfort of receiving so many expensive gifts, the target of his obsession probably also thinks it’s just some passing fancy, just another demonstration of his big heart and his boundless kindness

but it’s just a little too much. the hugs last a second too long, it’s just too many gifts- where the hell do they safely put all this gold? it’s too much time spent in scarabia’s common room being hugged and pet and coddled by kalim

perhaps the kindest way to make him back off is to just not appeal to him, right? to be just a little bit cold, to look a bit worse for wear than the average student- surely that’ll be enough to dissuade him, to make him lose interest and maybe focus his attention on something else

but it doesn’t really work. trying to even give a cold shoulder to his affections makes kalim so visibly sad it hurts them (even though they’re the ones trying to make distance between him and them), their disheveled appearance makes him fuss and worry and pay even more attention to them

if the plan was to get kalim off their back, then it backfires completely. he’s suddenly just that much more attached to them; he doesn’t seem to take their cold treatment as a dissuasion, and he gifts care products and clothes and jewelry saying that perhaps they need a little pick-me-up

it just culminates in him “worrying too much” and “taking the decision to care for them, since they’re clearly unwell!”- which translates to being put in a private room in the scarabia dorm for kalim to pamper

he seems to chalk up their distress and their absolute anger at his actions as them “being unwell”. is it the school stress, or something else...? well, it’s ok! he’s taking care of them now; they’re not gonna have to work a day in their life or stress over anything at all, because he’s going to stay with them forever. that’s what love is, after all!

leona kingscholar

what a ridiculous little herbivore

do they truly think he can’t tell what they’re doing? leona knows he isn’t subtle about his little crush, as ruggie calls it- he isn’t stupid enough to deny the obsession that swirls in his heart and raises all his animalistic instincts when he’s in the presence of his darling. he knows they’re worried about how he’s monopolizing their time, that they’re keenly aware he’s trying to keep them for himself

but do they really think that they can somehow drive him away by switching up the way they act? that if they try to put on a brave stance, try to act as if though they aren’t a little weak herbivore for the big mean lion to hunt down for dinner, that he’s just going to shrug and move on?

if his obsession was something so minor, he wouldn’t be putting in the effort to secure his prey. really, how dumb do they have to be to think it’d be that easy? they know him- they know he wouldn’t be putting energy into this whole thing if he didn’t truly want to

leona isn’t stupid. he can see right through them; he’s had his eye on them for a while now, and all of a sudden they’re trying to change up the way they are? he can easily figure out what they’re trying to do

in fact, he might bring it up to their face- looking down at them with a smirk arms crossed

just because the prey tries to act brave doesn’t make it any less of a prey animal. he can sniff them out without trying.

really, it’s about then leona just says ‘fuck it’ and pounces. it’s as easy as saying that if they don’t nicely follow him back to savanaclaw he’ll gladly turn them to sand, with his hand pressed against their back- and that’s all it takes for the brave act to crumble and for the lion to force the rabbit into his den

even if once held captive they keep trying to act unappealing, leona sees it as amusing and perhaps as a bother he can quickly get rid of with a bit of force or punishment. cats like to play with their food, after all: he might let them try to keep up the act for a while, just for his amusement, but once he says they’re done and to drop it, they better drop it, because he isn’t above letting them learn through pain that they aren’t in charge of themselves here

malleus draconia

catching on that malleus draconia might be a bit too interested in them is a bit of an unnerving discovery- because what does one do when the most powerful student in nrc and the heir to the throne of the valley of thorns is a bit too into one? 

it doesn’t help that malleus is just not very socially adept, and it feels... cruel to tell him off. maybe it’s just the way he makes friends- perhaps showing up to their dorm unannounced is just him being friendly, perhaps him just staring at them is how he thinks friendship goes, maybe the extended physical contact is just him being touch starved

it’s just tricky, because what can they do? malleus is powerful and he’s very, very much attached to them. perhaps it’s their fault for letting it get to this level, but they just thought the guy needed a friend; they were trying to be nice, to offer him companionship, and now they’ve got a fae watching them sleep, talking about how they’d be a perfect co-ruler for the valley of thorns, glaring at their friends when they spend time together; it’s a problem

and yet what to do? trying to make malleus “not attracted to them” is easier said than done. after all, what seems to have gotten him so attached is the fact they treat him nicely, that they weren’t scared of him- and they’ve seen malleus spit fire and use magic so powerful they can only dream of it. they don’t want to just go ahead and upset him by suddenly being mean.

and trying to put him off with their appearance just doesn’t seem to work either. if anything, it just makes him that more overbearing; as if he’s worried about their behaviour

there’s no way to win, really. they can try to keep going this way, as his obsession grows more and more each day and he starts to take more and more from them, eventually declaring his “love”, eventually placing them in a tower, trapped with him- no amount of messy hair and poorly ironed clothes can make the lovesick obsession leave malleus; and the alternative is to potentially anger him, to make the move from their dorm to a cold, stone room somewhere in the dorm for malleus to unleash his anger and the worse parts of his obsession onto them

[capri-ramblings]

Ooh requests are open! Can I request some headcanons on how the yandere octavinelle trio + Malleus and Lilia would react to their s/o being poisoned and afflicted with sleeping death where the only cure is true loves kiss? And surprisingly, their s/o actually wakes up afterwards.

Excuse me,yansweet, how dare you have such a deliciously well thought idea? I didn't do Azul and Floyd because they ended up a bit too similar with Jade though,so I hope you don't mind! 💖💖

Please Refer to Pinned Post. [This post was set on cued!]

[ True love's kiss? ]

Malleus Draconia

- Malleus is furious at first.

- He's blundering the halls of his castle when he hears of the misfortune cursed onto you

- How dare anyone lay their hands on you? And who were the fools who were so incompetent to allow it in the first place?

- This Fae King is ready to tear down the walls of his ancestral home until Lilia comes to soothe his anger, reminding him that if it was a curse begotten by another other than himself that there would be a cure for it no doubt.

- So,he simmers down. Compels himself to unsheath his claws and fury for another day.

- For now, he must go see you

- He smiles lightly when he does; The mere figure of you laid atop his bed in what seemed to be a deep slumber dousing his rage of fire.

- What an odd feeling he has when you are present. This gentleness that you evoke in his core is something Malleus believes no other being could give him.

- You are his special bride. His soulmate.

- "A true love's kiss" He murmurs underneath his breath, earning glances from both Lilia and Silver as they stood on each of his sides.

- Malleus considers this notion thoughtfully, wondering if he'd be able to do so for he wasn't a fool (though he felt he was one for your love) and he was aware of how stoic and reserved you had been with him despite the closeness he's tried to build with you.

- If he had kissed you then and you remained asleep. It would shatter a great deal of both his pride and heart.

- How would he cope with such a rejection?

- Truly,if he couldn't have you then no one else would have the chance to be.

- But if he did not attempt this then you'd remain asleep forever, and that seemed a fate worst than death or rejection.

- For then you'd be further away from him. You would have your freedom,your peace and he would be left with just a remnant of your existence.

- No, Malleus didn't want that.

- He wanted you, your soul,your laugh. He wanted to see the glistening of life kindling in your eyes, the sound of your voice cooing in his ears.

- If you remained in deep slumber, he would have none of this

- And he'd go mad.

- The world would matter not to him.

- If you demanded a kiss to awaken, he will give it to you. And if you refused him, he would litter your body with each mark of affection he has to offer.

- For if the Fates denied him your love , he would deny the world of peace.

- "Leave."

- The words were an order,drawled out with enough demand that Lilia and Silver didn't spare a second to obey.

- Malleus strode to his bed and allowed his gaze to drink the sight of your serene beauty bared before him, the way the light sprites lingered around you reminding him of a star he saw when he was younger.

- He wanted to ask you if you'd be willing to have him. If you could find it in your heart to accept his twisted one.

- Surely, a life encased in a dream was far from what you wanted as well?

- He knew you always had a spirit for living, and that by keeping you at his side Malleus had taken that away from you.

- But he'd promise to not repeat his mistakes.

- He'd allow you the freedom you so wished for so long as you accepted him as your one and only.

- Your true love. That's what he wanted.

- Malleus takes the place beside you, his weight causing the bed to sink ever so slightly as he leaned down to your face.

- Your subtle scent of flowers and grass greeting his senses almost immediately.

- "Be mine" He cooed,coaxed. Voice as gentle as a summer's breeze, a yearning song from the woods. "And I will give you the world."

- His lips presses onto yours gently and without a hint of greed in it. The sensation of being ruffled by the wind causing Malleus to furrow his brows before he loosened his body and deepened the kiss.

- Once he pulled away and your eyes remained shut, Malleus gripped the sheets. Expression feral, like a wounded beast.

- But then, your chest heaved a fraction more than it did before and Malleus watched in awe as your eyelids began to flutter open and your lips parted in a silent murmur.

- "___?" Your name leaves him breathless as it slips from his mouth and you turn your head in his direction.

- The glazed look in your gaze slowly regaining its composure the longer you lingered on his expression.

- "Malleus..." You called,soft and gentle it has him craning his head over you like a shrine to be worshipped. His hands gathering yours as he lifts them up to his lips where he lets it linger on your skin.

- "Malleus,I...I was asleep..."

- "Cursed,my raven." Malleus cut in, the hint of aggression he held before returning. "Someone had cursed you into an eternal sleep"

- Your expression shifted,from dazed to disbelief as you looked around the room before returning to Malleus's grief stricken form.

- "Eternity didn't seem to change much of your room."

- Malleus's eyes widened.

- Then,he laughed at you for that. A sound so broken and worn,you had trouble believing it came from the very same Fae who you knew to be cold and proud.

- "You didn't reached an eternity yet. I broke the curse." He said, and you tilted your head.

- "How?" The question was a quiet one, as if you didn't want to stir up the silence in the room.

- Malleus looked you straight in the eyes then. Gaze still and unwavering.

- "With a kiss." He said "A true love's kiss."

- And if that didn't answer his pleas, then perhaps, you could tell him yourself. For now, he knew the Fates were on his side and nothing you say would make him think otherwise.

Jade Leech

- Jade is livid.

- The very seams of control and patience he's paid attention to uphold slips through his facade like sand and his fists feel cold.

- The rush of aggression coursing through his veins then makes him see red as he strides his way to you.

- Floyd and Azul are waiting on him there, each standing at either side of your bed. He wants to tell them off for it, to bare his jaws and tell them that he didn't need anyone to play nurse for you.

- He knows it's unreasonable to act in such a way but he can't help it.

- All that meticulous planning to keep you from others reach, wasted.

- And it's entirely your fault,isn't it? You and your stubborn will to slither away from your one and only. The ungratefulness has Jade seething with more rage than he could ever contain.

- If only you'd stay put and not run off...This wouldn't be happening. You wouldn't be hit by that curse and Jade wouldn't need to wrack his brain for a solution to this mess.

- His wrath is silent though. Not a single word escapes him as he takes in the sight of your sleeping figure.

- Floyd makes a chide comment about it, ignoring the harsh glower in Jade's eyes but ultimately saved by Azul who seemed able to read the mood and divert the topic towards another.

- It takes days for them to figure out the cure for your curse but even when it's laid on the table before him, Jade finds himself frowning.

- A true love's kiss? What kind of childish fantasy was this? How could a curse strong enough to keep you asleep for an eternity be broken by a mere kiss?

- Surely this was some sort of joke. Jade turns to Azul for another possibility, but the Octo-Mer simply shakes his head.

- Jade involuntarily clicks his tongue, something he rarely does so openly but he thanks Azul for the information and asks to be left alone.

- He doesn't need anyone telling him the consequences if his kiss doesn't stir you awake.

- Then again, if he doesn't at least attempt to do anything, you'd remained unconscious and that was practically a death sentence wasn't it?

- Jade applauds you for making him internally conflicted. The fact that you alone could make him want to tear apart the world was no small feat after all.

- He somehow feels entitled to answer this ridiculous demand of yours, seeing that if he does wakes you up then it will be something he'll use against you

- Because if Jade breaks the curse it means you and him were meant to be, and he'd have the proof for it.

- So,he swallows his rage and he leans down to kiss you.

- In that moment where you actually stir awake and let out this almost pained gasp, Jade finds himself staring at you in awe.

- The very chains of his possessiveness coiling around you as his thoughts gathered together in one single notion of acceptance.

- He was your true love's kiss.

- How fascinating. How rewarding.

- Safe to say after this little event, Jade's primal aggression over you heightens to a frightening degree. Though oddly enough, he lets you do whatever you wished, going as far as allowing you to live away from him.

- And this is because, Jade has the full assurance that no matter how far a distance you placed between you and him or how harsh you acted towards his affection, it doesn't change the fact that if you were to fall into a deep slumber, the only one to pull you out from it is none other than Jade himself.

Lilia Vanrouge

- Lilia's temper simmers but he isn't entirely mad enough to start a war.

- No,he's a patient man and one with boundless knowledge.

- He's quick to identify the curse as a traditional sleeping curse and finds the cure for it rather amusing.

- He doesn't know if he's your so called true love, knowing very well that the relationship he's put you in is one similar to eternal confinement, but his heart flutters at the thought of you waking up because of his kiss, even if he knows it will never happen.

- Lilia is enamored by you, so much that he's taken note of every single aspect of your life. From your lineage to the people you linger about with to that boy you've always been in love with ever since your childhood years.

- You can't really hide anything from him, can you?

- He wonders if he can cheat the little curse with a transfiguration spell but then laughs at himself for such naive thinking.

- Instead, he sings you songs, every night. Not lullabies or love poems, but songs of ancient Faes. The kind that spins humans into a web of submission both body and soul.

- Oh,he knows he isn't your true love but he could be the one you can't live without, and that's all the same for Lilia.

- The song weakens the spirit of a human, and in turn the body itself, and a curse will only last for either a certain amount of time or until the one afflicted by it is dead. So, Lilia pushes you into a near death state, lulling your senses so dangerously low until you're pale as death and he can barely hear your heartbeat.

- Then seconds before you die, he cuts the curse off and reverse the song, healing you completely. It's a flawless plan yet risky if not handled by the right hands. Lilia smiles at his success, and that smile broadens when he leans down to kiss you, minutes before you stir awake and find that the person you lifted your curse was none other than Lilia himself.

- You're confused, but relieved. You hadn't remembered how you were placed under such spell but you remember the death-like state you felt, the way your body seemed to grow weaker each passing day you kept your eyes shut, but then as immediately as it happened, the heavy burden disappears and is replaced by the most soothing sensation you've ever experienced.

- And it's all because Lilia kissed you?

- You couldn't actually believe it, but how do you doubt something that felt as gentle as the lips that saved you?

- Perhaps, you've misjudged him. Suddenly,Lilia didn't seem all that hard to love.

[sylleblosscm]

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ – v: au: can i dream for a few months more? / insomnia

An AU in which, after the invasion of Tenebrae, Lunafreya is brought back to Insomnia and grows up in the Amicitia household.

   (Many of the details of this verse are flexible for the sake of different threads; ie, the age Luna is when she is rescued, who she ends up with in the end, whether Ravus is taken too, and whether Regis also survives the raid on the citadel. However, what follows is the broad strokes of the story that will usually be referred back to by default. I’ve aged Luna down to 8 at the time of the invasion by default because I want classmate shenanigans, and who’s gonna stop me? And of course, this entire verse wouldn’t exist without @oldamicitia​ being a terrible influence on me, so. Thank you 🤍)

 During the Empire’s attack on Tenebrae meant to target the visiting Lucian royalty, King Regis manages to keep a hold of Lunafreya’s hand. With no other choice left to them, she is whisked away from the chaos to Insomnia, where she lives out the rest of her childhood.

 For some time, Luna’s future remains up in the air. There is no safe passage by which she might return, no way to send her home. While the matter of who should bear the responsibility for her upbringing remains unclear, Luna is sent to stay in the Amicitia household temporarily - the rationale being that Clarus’ time in Tenebrae has given him a rapport with the Princess, and surely there is no safer place for her to be within Insomnia’s walls, aside from the Citadel itself. 

 Beyond her flourishing friendship with Noctis and her instant adoration for Clarus’ then-three-year-old daughter Iris, Luna remains deeply affected and withdrawn, keeping mostly to herself at first. Slowly, over time, she begins to warm up to Clarus as they bond over their mutual love of tea and general sleeplessness. By the time the selection process has narrowed down for Luna’s long-term accommodations, she is as settled as one can possibly be. So upon hearing that there is indeed still such a process, she becomes incredibly distressed and asks to remain where she is. It is around this time that she begins referring to Clarus as Papa.

  At this point, the only Amicitia Luna has yet to bond with is Gladiolus, who she has given a wide berth. It is no comment on him (in fact, she is certain that she would like him very much given the chance); rather, it is an expression of her own guilt about leaving Ravus behind. Eventually, however, she begins making small efforts with him, too.

 During her years growing up in Insomnia, Luna becomes stronger, more outspoken and more confident than her canon counterpart. What she lacks in her Oracle training, she makes up for with various other skills. She is an exemplary student and active within the community, earning herself a somewhat darling reputation in the public eye. Those who know her well are familiar with her passion and tenacity, and her boundless determination to make life better for those around her. Her childhood from then on is mostly a happy one.

 Eventually Luna is given special leave to return to Tenebrae to begin her training proper. Once she is of age, she returns to her homeland wherein she throws herself into learning as quickly as possible, what she otherwise might have had years to study. 

 Soon enough, the peace treaty between Lucis and Nifleheim is brokered, and Luna’s hand is promised to her own highschool sweetheart. Suspicious of the suddenness of it all, rather than head directly to Altissia as ordered, Luna instead travels back to Insomnia, arriving the very eve of the signing ceremony.

 Before she can so much as greet her adoptive father all hell breaks loose, and he is killed in service to his King. A grief-stricken Luna dons the Ring of the Lucii and finds herself with a mysterious power no Oracle before her has seen. She rushes to her father’s body and in her desperate pleading for him to wake, inadvertently brings him back from the dead - at a cost. She falls into a coma and does not wake for some months, only learning once she does just how close she’d come to losing her life. At Clarus’ behest she promises to never again utilize such a dangerous power.  

 From there, she is free to pursue her duty, making at once for Altissia to reunite with Noctis and return the Ring to him. Once Noctis is pulled within the Crystal, Luna spends most of the Long Night shepherding refugees to Lestallum and preparing for the arrival of the Chosen King. 

 Noctis is forced to give his life to dispel the darkness, and Luna - who had known nothing of the cost demanded of him before this - breaks her ten-year promise by putting on the Ring and, in an act of direct defiance towards Bahamut himself who orders her to desist, attempts to resurrect her beloved. She is successful, but as punishment, her gift of healing is renounced and the future of the Oracle line is thrown into question.

[cybernaght]

Guardian rewatch: Episode 3

First of all, wow. When I decided to post those online, I was expecting that they would be read by two people, both of whom I personally know. It was in equal part surprising and terrifying that so many of you ventured here. Thank you for reading, I really appreciate it. 

Episode 3 is probably my favourite case. It’s not perfectly strung together, there is little actual investigative work in it, but it’s a beautiful story of boundless love and devotion, which echoes through the relationship between our protagonists

Professor Shen is looking at some materials that are looking suspiciously like research into something supernatural, when Zhang Ruonan makes an appearance at his office, claiming that she is absolutely fine, while clearly being very far away from fine. This is something Shen Wei can certainly relate to, because he is the king of hiding his ailments from others. 

Zhu Hong’s one-sided affection for Zhao Yunlan starts to show already in this episode:  while he has the cold, she nags him to take care of himself, shoves tissues into his hands, and presses him to drink his meds. It’s easy to imagine even this early on that she will be the woman drunk dialling him one day. 

I know this could be seen as straightbaiting, but I honestly thing that the actual purpose it serves in the show is the opposite; I’ll talk more about it when we get there.

Zhao Yunlan spends a lot of this episode in Shen Wei’s office, starting with this scene, in which is obviously flexing. Not only does he sneeze all over the office, he goes to eat Shen Wei’s cake after specifically being told not to eat it.  He also takes his opportunity to mix questioning with flirting, as is his usual way. He keeps eye contact while spooning cake into his mouth, as he explains, jovially, that another mysterious death on his campus cannot possibly be a coincidence. And, to be fair, he is not really wrong. We are meant to believe that this is all set in motion by Zhu Jiu, aka the least scary villain in the history of villainy, and an owner of your staple baby goth wig. I will not mention him again until the plot makes it impossible for me not to do so. 

Zhang Ruonan comes in, and Zhao Yunlan introduces himself as Shen Wei’s good friend. Which is half-way between a flex and an act of kindness. On one hand, he could have said he was from the police - which would be absolutely true - and risk tarnishing the professor’s good name. On the other hand, he could probably look less pleased with himself. Shen Wei, at the very least, looks neither grateful, nor amused. 

Zhao Yunlan asks her if she new the victim and she looks incredibly shifty as she flees. He is right to think that something is up, and he correctly assumes trauma, rather than guilt. We can now start to see that he is very very good at reading people. It must be equal parts thrilling and disconcerting for him to have met something who he decisively cannot read. Shen Wei vouches for the woman, partly, surely, because his Hei Pao Shi sense is tingling, letting him know that someone is eavesdropping. 

Despite feeling uneasy, Shen Wei still offers Guo Changcheng, who is left to collect various paperwork from his desk, a little smile. He has a reason to like Xiao Guo, of course: he was the one to see the young man’s kindness and understanding, and he is already growing protective of him, way before he will start seeing members of the special unit as his people. This reminds me of how many months later, he will subtly, but decisively stop a barrage of verbal abuse against Xiao Guo by dropping a pair of chopsticks. 

Zhao Yunlan is taking Xiao Guo with him on the case rather than anyone else, partly, supposedly, because of Guo Changcheng’s familial connections. The young man looks more sure of himself, asking correct questions, dutifully records answers. He also tries to look after his Chief by asking him to go home and rest. He does phrase it badly, but Zhao Yunlan has a thing against his own health and well-being, so he reacts extra poorly.

Soon after, Zhao Yunlan’s at Shen Wei’s office yet again, as Shen Wei tries his best to ignore him, in the hope that he… well, maybe not goes away, but does not ask him anything that will require him lying. Instead, Zhao Yunlan is asking Shen Wei why he is bad at reading people, which is a very strange thing to ask. Shen Wei answers his question with a question, “Will seeing through people really lessen the hurt and disappointment?” Adding, “Many tragedies were destined from the beginning”. He looks well.. like this as he says it. 

This is loaded. On first glance, it’s a pretty good set-up to the way this story will unfold, as a tragedy of two individuals who let their devotion to each other nearly ruin each other’s life. A fragile human and a dangerous powered Undergroundian: what else is that, but a tragedy, waiting to happen? But this story - this one right in front of us - will not end tragically, at least not for the two people it enters around. It could do so, but it will not. Maybe, this truly is the first hint that this entire narrative, so carefully set up from the very first time Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei meet, is destined to be a tragedy. Moreover, that it must be one, for some cosmic reason. 

(… I apologise while I go have a little cry in the corner. Damn you, Guardian, why do you make me hurt so much?)

Da Qing inexplicably morphs from black cat to a human in white t-shirt while doing night shadowing, and promptly falls asleep on patrol. Why is he being sent to stake anyone out? He is least suitable for it.  He is literally a cat. He sleeps 16 hours a day. 

Surprisingly, when pressed, Zhang Ruonan comes clean very easily, revealing that she was a victim of the three students she failed (two of which are already dead and one one standing right next to them), who lured her out at night, which left her vulnerable to be attacked. Zhao Yunlan listens to this story, and instead of… oh I don’t know, perhaps asking her the identity of the third student, leaves to go find that out for himself. It is heavily implied that he does it on purpose, which is definitely not okay.  

Moreover, he goes and... asks Shen Wei. This makes me suspect that he’s not really thinking with his head at this point. As he does so, he is brandishing a letter opener. 

Shen Wei is looking even less impressed with him than he did during their last few conversations. 

Zhao Yunlan is a little bit flippant when it comes to students’ lives this episode. And yes, they have done something really quite horrible to another human being, but that's not a very good excuse to let the last of them just die. As it happens, the situation Yunlan created - perhaps on purpose - did lure out Zhao Ruonan’s murder girlfriend, but it also cost a student his life. Which is far from ideal, but is somehow never even mentioned. Instead of being aghast, he sits on the table as he goes into full interrogation mode. (As he will continue to do a lot. Sometimes he crouches on tables instead. There is no further point here, apart from: I like this character quirk. It’s a nice character quirk.)

He brings some of his team in at this point, and asks Zhu Hong to continue interrogation. It would be a nice gesture is he did not interject two questions in. 

“How do you regard your relationship with Wang Yike?”

“We are family.”

They are definitely, decisively not going for sisterly bond here. Which is kind of incredible. This is one of the moments the amorphous being that show is looks at the censors, wiggles its battered low budget eyebrows at them, and then proceeds to flip them off. Well done, Guardian. 

Wang Yike calls Zhang Ruonan, saying there is one more victim she needs to take care of, and Lin Jing traces the call back to campus. Zhao Yunlan, who did not even bat an eyelid at a dead student earlier, now looks decisively worried  

“Oh no. Professor Shen.” 

The only reason Shen Wei is attacked is jealousy. Wang Yike does not know this of course, but trying to kill him is a bad move, because a) he has long ago given his heart away, and is definitely not interested; b) this is probably the only thing she could do to make the man on the case very very upset; c) Shen Wei’s immune to her powers. 

“Someone like you will never understand what she means to me!” Wang Yike shouts eventually. “As long as I can protect her, my life has worth!” And, even as Wang Yike has no way of knowing it, these are the words that ultimately save both her and her loved one. Because Shen Wei does in fact understand what Zhang Ruonan means to her. His own endless and ultimately self-destructive devotion is his main driving force.

Shen Wei pretends to be hurt, again, which earns him a half-hug from the object of his devotion. If Zhao Yunlan does notice that Shen Wei should really come out of this attack grey haired and dead, and not just mildly inconvenienced, he chooses not to say anything. 

Worried about her murder girlfriend, Zhang Ruonan rushes in and accidentally touches her. Zhao Yunlan Freaks The Hell Out. Shen Wei does, too, but in his own, reserved, way. They are both emotionally invested in those two people, although for very different reasons: Shen Wei is acutely feeling resonance of his own past in their story, and Zhao Yunlan, I think, wants to fix it, he wants to be able to make it better. Instead, Shen Wei fixes it for him, turning the tide on this tragedy, and giving it a happy ending. He heals Zhang Ruonan right in front of the officers of SID, albeit with much subtlety. (“Have someone saved her right under our noses?” Zhu Hong will snort the very same evening, and she will be 100% correct.)

Shen Wei also lets Wang Yike go despite the undeniable fact that she did kill three people. Here, he is looking at the picture of this human/Undergroundian couple, surviving despite all odds, and touches his only reminder that Kunlun really was in his life. 

He then burns the picture as the only evidence that Wang Yike was not punished by him for her crimes. 

In the end, Guo Chengcheng is making first of his many diary notes about the events, recounting a conversation between Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan we had not witnessed, in which Shen Wei mentioned a relationship based on devotion that can last a thousand years, and Zhao Yunlan called such a relationship “guarding”. Finally, Guo Changcheng hopes that he can become a guardian of all. 

And this is making me think that this absolutely should be a set-up for him becoming a wick of the guardian lantern, as per every single other decision that was made prior to the last two episodes. Right? This is a perfect foreshadowing, and mentioning it here, so early in the show would not make any sense if it were a deliberate subversion. So, was Guo Changcheng meant to become the wick after all before... what, some rewrites happened? What made the final episode be what it was in the end?

(This is a genuine question by that way, if anyone has any insight on the matter.)

The episode would end here, if this was a western show, with a familiar monster of the week structure, but it does not. At least, the way it ends is reminiscent of a cliffhanger, with Zhao Yunlan catching Shen Wei in a middle of a crime scene, and looking betrayed. 

Next episode: Lynchian Nightmare, aka people without faces. 

PS.

I did not have a seamless way to stick this in anywhere but... Shen Wei’s technological ineptness at the max: he does not know how to use a Polaroid camera. Help him, he is so lost.

——

Second point of housekeeping to say a few things: 

I don’t think I will be consistent with certain things being transliterated versus translated. I am more likely to use Hei Pao Shi rather than Black Cloak Envoy (because the later reminds me of Tuxedo Mask, which makes me inwardly giggle every time) but at the same time I am also more likely to use Underground/Undergroundian rather than Dixing/Dixingren. I am more likely to use Xiao rather than Little, but have called Chu Old rather than Lao before. I hope that’s not grating, but do tell me if it is

My recaps are Shen Wei-heavy. I have no real explanation for this, apart from.. I like Shen Wei. 

I realise that there will definitely be things here that are head canon and speculation rather than flat observations; this show is a work of fiction and a work of art, which cannot be interpreted objectively. If you have alternate takes on anything I write in the future, let me know!