#like it's hypocritical at time sure and definitely sometimes people need better hair care

[revcleo]

hyey guys late night thoughts

one problem out there is when people externalise a problem automatically, like:

if you have a misunderstanding with someone or something isn't clear, saying "You need to be clearer, no-one will understand you if you act like that."

It's no, it's a case of one-to-one communication there, it's "We need to figure out how to work this out, I didn't understand what you meant."

Even if you legit think that other people won't understand the other person, the first case here doesn't work. It will just do one of two things:

1. Annoy the other person

2. Depress the other person.

Note: If you are being spoken to in generalist terms like someone always saying "people don't like/won't understand when you" or even like "black people don't/won't", "abuse survivors don't/won't", "women's don't/won't". Then always just, consult some other people, read upon things. It's often someone saying "I don't like" and trying to make it look like they have back-up. Look around and see if things make sense, or if it's just someone who doesn't vibe with something, trying to make it out to be worse than it is.

[suguru-getos]

Thoughts on Aizawa? The skrunkly eraser man?

Ahahaha oh my god Aizawa huh? I wanna write something about him now

Aizawa hcs (nsfw/sfw):

Quiet, thoughtful, introverted and serene man. He carries all the characteristics of being perfect in his own way. Gives his work and the people close to him an assertive prioritiy and also shows that. For his s/o he would definitely do the same. They come above his work sometimes because that’s who he is. Hardwired to be a genuine caregiver.

He doesn’t put much thought into dressing up, but does take care of himself physically. Regular workouts and trainings, helping his students train with him. Appearance wise I think he couldn’t care less. However that doesn’t mean he does not understand the significance of dressing appropriately at a given situation. He would put a lot of effort when there are planned outings, dates, press conferences. It’s his regular attire that he prefers not to mull over into much.

He loves coffee of course, as an underground hero he doesn’t have much energy to cope up throughout his day except with a stronf espresso. He would be completely hypocritical and chid his s/o about not drinking much coffee and how it overstimulates your already tired brain & makes it even more tired. “It will have high stress hormones, Cortisol. Then you’d be unable to rest. It will give you anxiety.” Yes sure Aizawa sensei, sure -_-

He loves bringing his partner flowers, he is a hardcore gentleman and wants to behave that way. Even when there’s the smallest of occaisions, you’d have huge bouquets for yourself. Your period? You had a good day? Anything and everything.

Is possessive in a caring way, “Oh you’re going out, great! Have fun.” Would text you every two hours about it though ;-;

He can’t cook for shit but is happy to do that when required and would methodically follow the recipie and everything. He just prefers in acts of service as his love language and is very keen to show it.

Uses $$ like a sugar daddy to spoil you. <3

He can use his words to comfort you during bad times and he is pretty good at it, hugging you, craddling you close to his chest and kissing you. Telling you how proud he truly is of you. This man is the standard, mkay?

Nsfw hcs 😏:

Hardcore pleasure dom, he gives a fuck only about your pleasure which inturn, gets him hard. He loves having you by the lap and cockwarming you though, like to see you struggle and try to buck your hips against him.

Funishments is where it’s at. He loves to use his capture weapon to tie you up with your legs spread apart, eat your cunt for hours if needed (of course giving you enough breaks) but it’s his hobby to make you squirm and whine & cry.

Aftercare king and would soothingly rub any areas that are bruised, would draw out a bath for you, order your favorite snacks, tell you how much you are loved. Have you on his lap while he kisses your forehead, plays with your hair. All the cutesy stuff UnU

His favorite position is to bench press you because he just wants to see your face when his cock destroys your cunt with his railing thrusts.

Nipple play king and has once made you cum just from playing/toying with your titties.

Aizawa also loves to edge you, he just loves to be in control and what better than controlling the very desire and need of your body? Your orgasm? He’d stop, or have you asking/begging for permission as he pounds your sweet pussy.

[lynnlovesthestars]

Bg3 male matchup plz

Gender: cis female

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: heterosexual ally

Zodiac: Capricorn

Appearance: 5’2 African American hourglass body (although I’m more top heavy if you know what i mean) black curly wavy hair blackish brown eyes chubby cheeks wears glasses sometimes (im far sighted so it’s usually when driving in class or at the theater)

Mbti: infj

Enneagram: 2w1

Personality: kind smart funny motherly responsible empathetic anxious emotional moody perfectionist helpful people pleaser caring compassionate nerdy curious protective polite respectful indecisive fearful nervous introvert shy awkward clumsy low self esteem low confidence (more pertaining to my talents or personality then my looks) sassy sarcastic (I’m mainly these things with people i feel comfortable with like friends or family) soft spoken cute (my friends think im cute because i can be pretty innocent plus I’m small physically)

Likes: animals books reading writing fantasy magic sci fi anime music video games friends alone time learning personality quizzes sweets and bread helping being a part of something bigger than myself

Dislikes: spiders loud sounds people i care about not caring for themselves (im a hypocrite on this i take care of everyone else but not me) not being listened to weird holes and patterns math and tests (I’m being tested for a math disability and i have test anxiety)

Love language:

Giving: acts of service gift giving and physical affection (if they’re ok with it)

Receiving: words of affirmation and physical affection (although i can be shy about it)

Extra: i pace a lot i sing when im alone i talk to myself im a picky eater (mainly with textures) i have a cat i have minor ehlers danalos (a hyper mobility disorder) but it doesn’t hurt me like it does my sisters i get abdominal migraines which is basically like a migraine but instead of headaches it’s nausea

Thank you

hii, first of all sorry for being late, ive been keeping this ask in the drafts because of my fear of commitment (me and posting don't go along well, xD im usually there keeping everything in the draft n never showing anyone so this was holed up with some other stuff..) nevertheless here i am and i'd say you waited enough so here i go,,

I think every motherly person deserves their fatherly like opposite, this being said i think you'd pair up lovingly with Gale.

He does give that father, dad, parent vibe, doesn't he? ahah

I think you are so kind and bearing that you do need some care as well and Gale never fails at that. Not to say that he babies you, nor that he treats you as a child, but he definitely spends and indecent amount of time and effort in coddling you, making sure your every wish is taken care of, but most of all it's like he's your other half.

Before you know he can finish your sentences, he knows right away when something good or bad is happening, he can almost sense it.

I do see a lot of him in you and maybe that's why i know he'd be a lovely fit. They always say opposites attract but no one is better than someone that can understand you, that laughs at the same jokes, that can empathize with you and cheer you up..

He is protective, but he gets especially caring when you have a flare up, imagine with me for a moment.

He comes home from work and finds you on laying down in agony. Whatever he's holding is dropped on the floor instantly and he's rushing to your side, thousand questions he wants to ask you, yet he knows the pain must be so overwhelming he must first help you out.

He reaches for a few pillows, propping them around you making sure you are a little more comfortable before he's off to his study for a moment to find one of his alchemic creations and comes back, assuring you that the pain will go away with it.

As he's gently massaging the mixture on the painful areas he starts talking, as if to distract you. "You know how i know this concoct will work?" And he doesnt wait for your answer cause all he wants to do is soothe your pain, entertain you. "My knees are not what they once were, so i had to come up with a remedy" He smirks as he takes a moment to kiss your stomach. "Well the first time I adventured into alchemy didn't go so well" He chuckles. "When I applied the mixture to my aching joints they started burning, and dear me i was in even more pain" He laughs as he resumes his gentle kneading and massaging, and finally you start feeling the soothing cream gently activating. His hands glow ever so slightly as if he's imbuing the tincture with magic and all you can feel is the cooling sensation rippling gently over your skin. "Doesn't it feel good now, love?" He murmurs as he doesn't stop with his massaging, despite being done with the application he still wants to care for you. "Next time just let tara know you are in pain, and i'll be here in the blink of an eye, got it?" He kisses your forehead gently. "I will drop anything for you"

[moemoemammon]

(Two things, 1. This is my first time requesting so I'm sorry if this is not the thing to do it, and 2. Sorry if somethings is misspelled or grammatically incorrect, eng is not my first language:p)

May I request some of the bros, specially Mammon, Luci and Satan, with a MC who's similar to Lucifer in some aspects (like, some of their manners are the same as his and sometimes they're little bit too strict) and after a while they discover that its bc MC is also an older sibling. And (only if you want) meeting their younger sibling, please 🙏

Btw love your works ♡♡♡

Lucifer Number 2~

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

It doesn't occur to Lucifer how similar the two of you are, but the first thing he realizes is how pleasant conversations with you can be. You both share common interests, your tastes suit his own, and you seem to be the only competent person in this house.

You're the responsible type, and he likes it. He'll sometimes find you scolding his brothers for their behavior too, and as amusing of a sight as that may be, he doesn't want you to be burdened with their idiocy.

AND you're the eldest sibling in your household? Cheers to that. You too know the weight of being the responsible oldest, and the role one must take to ensure their siblings grow up well. You too know that you'd rather your siblings have things easier than you did.

But there's one thing he finds annoying... You can NEVER speak your feelings, and act as if it’d kill you to do so. He can respect secrecy when it's appropriate, but Lucifer would like to know what's on your mind. Not only that, but you can be HORRIBLY headstrong. There's nothing that can stray you away from what you've already decided.

"MC, I request that you take a few days off from school to do as you please. I've already spoken with Diavolo and your professors, and you've been given an excuse. I know you'll study anyway, so I've dropped off your assignments in your room. But... you should rest. It isn't good for you to be pushing yourself so hard. Hm? You're calling me a hypocrite?"

Mammon

As if one Lucifer wasn't enough. Now there's TWO of em?! Why's his luck gotta be so lousy!

Definitely the first to realize how much like Lucifer you are, and was SHOOK. Seriously, what gives?! What horrors exist in the human world that could've made you like THAT..?

Ever since you showed up, it's been impossible to get away with anything! He can't sneak out of the house because you're always there somehow, you tattle on him when you catch him leaving anyone's room, and you won't even let him copy your homework! What gives?!

Avoids you like the plague. You're no fun! There's only rare moments when you're kinda okay, and he likes those the best. The times when you're kinda sensitive and you'll drop the high and mighty act. But then you're back to being a pest!

"For the billionth time, I ain't got time to study! There's money to be made, and a guy like me ain't gonna waste a second lookin' at a dumb book when I could be- H-Huh?! You're gonna call Lucifer?! N-now, there's no need to be so hasty, right? Oi!! I'm sorry, damn it-!"

Levi

What's the deal with Lucifer number two? As comedic of a trope as that may be, Levi doesn't really care for having two nagging types in the house. Especially a human...

When you're in his room, all you do is nitpick about how he should tidy up and open a window! Don't you know that an otaku's room is his pride and joy?! It's a sacred space not to be trampled on by the opinions of a normie!!!

But still... he has to admit that even if you don't get all the stuff he's talking about, you at least try to understand it. And there are even some of his interests that you're genuinely invested in!

You might be a pain in the neck and harass him about annoying things, but he guesses he can deal with it if you'll actually sit through a TSL marathon with him...

"I-I'll lend you this manga, so make sure you read it! And when you're finished with that, I'll lend you the spin-off series by the author's brother! I know you'll like it, since you're interested in gritty stuff. Oh, and- Huh? My laundry? Y-yeah.... I'll do that.."

Satan

You are... surprisingly good company. Satan enjoys talking to you over afternoon tea, and the two of you share stories between one another.

But still, he can't shake the feeling that there's something... unpleasantly familiar about your personality. It isn't until you say something that sounds suspiciously similar to what Lucifer would say that he realizes who you remind him of. And oh, he hates it.

Tries playing pranks on you, but somehow they never go to plan. How that is is beyond him, but you never fall for anything! No matter how sweet his smile, you're always rightfully suspicious. You're annoyingly meticulous about checking your surroundings, and you're so aware of yourself that it's troublesome! Be more gullible!!

The king of petty has decided that its now his life goal to make you fall for at least one of his pranks. He doesn't care how elaborate he has to make it, or how unrewarding the payoff may be. He'll make you pay for seeing his brother in two places at once.

"MC, would you like to join me this afternoon for a book reading? Though, I'd love it if you could read this book in particular. I think you'll find it very-.... Hm? 'Isn't this the cursed book that makes you grow hair all over your body', you ask? Ahaha.... tch."

Asmo

Come now, there can't be TWO killjoys in the house! That's way too depressing!! It was funny at first to see that there's someone who can match the scary Lucifer's energy, but now it's becoming a nuisance!

You won't even go to the countless parties he's invited you to! Hell, you barely even give yourself room to mess around a little? Isn't it boring being so tightly wound? You're in luck, because the adorable Asmo-chan knows the PERFECT way to let loose~

You'll RARELY let him close to you, and that's usually when you're tired of him harassing you. Then he gets the honor of playing with your hair while you've got no energy to fight back! He'll style it wonderfully for you!

Also nags you to take better care of yourself. You're not a demon, so you have to care for your health! These late night study sessions are giving you bags under your eyes! And stop taking on so many extracurricular activities!

"Geez, MC! I didn't think you'd die from overworking, but that's the path you're headed on! You really are like Lucifer, you know? That being said, I'll do my best to make sure you relax! Shall we begin~?"

Beel

Beel may not be too bothered by Lucifer's strictness, but that doesn't mean he's immune to it. To think that even a human can be like that...

It's nice to see that you can take care of yourself, but aren't you working too hard? Your grades are good and you've got many interesting talents, but you also have to properly rest.

Has started bringing you snacks on the regular. And don't even think about skipping meals, because he won't allow it. He'll literally pick you up and bring you to the table if he has to. And if you're staying up late to study? He'll carry you to bed. Don't try to protest.

Beel is your babysitter now and there's nothing you can do about it. It's good to be responsible, but don't think about trying to take care of everyone else if you can't care for yourself. Now eat these twelve meat buns he bought for you.

"MC, let's eat lunch together. I know you were going to skip because I heard you talking to Solomon earlier, and I won't let you. Ah, don't worry about not having money, because I've already bought you some lunch. Let's eat in the courtyard."

Belphie

NO.... IT CAN'T BE... THIS HAS TO BE A NIGHTMARE....HE WANTS TO WAKE UP....

You're such a drag. You harass him to attend student council meetings, but him about his studies, and won't let him avoid a single obligation he has. What are you, his mother?

Has 100% joined forces with Satan to try to make you fall for many, many unsuccessful pranks. Are you curse proof or something? When he tried a '10 hour bed-head' spell on you, it just rebounded right to him! Then he found out that you'd borrowed a spell repelling amulet from Solomon and realized just how prepared you are...

When you aren't bothering his entire soul by trying to make him do things, you're actually nice to talk to. You're knowledgeable, you pay attention to the people around you, and you can always read a room. He likes to ask you for advice sometimes.

"Aren't you tired of being like that all the time? So... attentive, I mean. You should just take a nap some time. Or better yet, take the week off. Maybe I'll teach you how to properly relax? Then you might finally be able to take that stick out of your- ow... What're you hitting me for?"

[elysianslove]

helo love! i hope you're having a good day. kinda want a break from bf hq boys. can i ask for miya twins as reader's older brothers? 👉👈 i was thinking if she can be the manager of inarizaki just because i want aran to lose his mind from dealing with three miyas hahahaha. thank youuu ily!! ʕ•ε•ʔ

omg i lovelovelove the concept of the miya twins having a sister and now that i’ve gotten an ask about it skfsbfkj <3333 thank you for sending this and i hope you like it!! 

MIYA TWINS WITH A YOUNGER SISTER 

considering you and the two of them are only a year apart, you’re pretty close with one another. of course, the older you got, the more annoying they were, and there was this one era when they were like 9-12 that they made it their life mission to annoy you. but then they grew out of that phase eventually, and as they matured, they became more tolerable. 

they’re not only teenage boys, but also your older brothers. they’re going to be annoying. 

atsumu definitely does that sibling thing where he’s like eating a bowl of cereal or whatever and he enters your room, just stands there and chews really loudly, then walks back out without closing the door. it makes you want to kill him every time.

osamu probably just like tugs at your hair whenever he sees you because why not yk, especially if it’s in a ponytail or a braid. and this isn’t 9-12 year old osamu. this is like 15-17 year old osamu. he just grabs your braid and pulls. you might snap your neck one day honestly. 

atsumu eats your leftovers. all the time. like literally all the time how do u still have 2 brothers and not 1

osamu comes and sits in your room like on ur couch or bed cause you have better wifi or whatever. he farts and goes “sorry :D.” he is not sorry.

sometimes the both of them team up on you and it’s so exhausting. but if you manage to get your mom on your side? consider them obliterated. 

and yk what’s even more fun? when you and a twin team up on the other twin. it’s just always hilarious cause the other twin will act so betrayed vjshsdsk

anyways because you’re only one year apart, their friends are your friends and your friends are their friends. have you ever had to deal with a “best friend’s brother” type of thing where a friend of yours only wanted to come over because she heard that miya atsumu likes to walk around the house shirtless? yes. 

she ended up being extremely disappointed at the fact that miya atsumu has a lot more respect for those living in the same house as him and doesn’t walk around shirtless. ironic. 

but also atsumu does flirt with every single one of your friends. 

flirt with his it’s okay <3

you’d think atsumu would be more protective or selfish about you being close with him and samu’s friends? nope. 

it’s osamu

like, for example, every time he sees you walking alone with suna he wants to either deck suna or deck you. he can never decide on which one. 

he’s just very good at hiding things like that, and atsumu isn’t, so it always seems like atsumu gives more of a shit than osamu does. and honestly, osamu’s not even sure why it bothers him so much. he’s not mad that you’re friends with his friends, like, obviously he isn’t, because he’s happy to share, especially since you’re his sister. but at the same time, he can’t help but feel like he really can’t have anything for himself you know? sounds pathetic and selfish but he can’t help it. 

i think you bring it up at some point and ask him if he’s bothered by it, and it took a whileee before he admitted that yes, it kinda does. it made sense in your head though, only because he’s your brother, and obviously you’re not gonna stop being friends with them, but you understand. they were his first, in a sense. 

but!!! he’s not gonna lie, osamu loves the fact that he can trust his friends with you. like if anything were to ever happen to you, he knows his friends will react the same way he would, and that alone kinda reels him in. 

since you’ve known aran since you were really young, he’s kinda like a third older brother to you. he always acts like a mediator between you and your brothers (and is always on your side, even if you’re in the wrong. so what if his favoritism is showing?). you genuinely feel like you can turn to him for anything at any point if you can’t turn to your brothers first. 

but out of all their friends, you’re closest to suna and you can’t explain why. he’s just so nice to be around and if you’re left alone with him, it can’t ever be awkward, even if it’s completely silent and quiet. plus, suna’s probably covered for you a couple of times if we’re being honest :)

anyways! 

protective wise, they’re honestly a lot better than you’d think they’d be. like yeah they’ll give you hell if you even mention the fact that you might have a crush on someone, but in reality, they just want what’s best for you, and they want you to always be happy.

obviously, if the person of your choosing really doesn’t seem like they have your best interest in mind, your brothers will be extremely blunt about it. like i said, they want what’s best for you, and they’re not going to sugarcoat anything at all. 

good luck trying to get your opinion in on their love interests they’re suddenly incapable of hearing. hypocrites and double standards <//3

they will do the whole interrogation thing, but it’s mostly because they don’t wanna look like they’re softies. they want the person to fear for their life if they even consider hurting you. 

in regards to comfort; 

osamu is the best listener there is. genuinely. he just sits there and lets you talk his ear off. he won’t care if you spend hours doing it. if it helps you relax, and calm down, then he’s all for it. 

atsumu is who to go to when you’re sobbing and need to get your mind off of something. he’s great at distracting you, but healthily. he’s not very good at the talking thing, and he will listen if you need him to, but go to him when you don’t want to think about anything anymore, yk? 

btw!! both of them are secretly huge suckers for the drama in your life. if there’s some friendship drama, they want all the details. they’re giving you the best reactions and the most ridiculous advice, and are definitely heating you up more than they should be but, what else are you expecting?

as each other’s siblings, you’re insanely supportive of each other and your respective dreams. like when you found out osamu wanted to go into a completely different field than atsumu, you spent a thousand nights trying to convince him that what he was doing was right, and spent another thousand nights trying to convince atsumu that osamu choosing a different career path didn’t mean he was leaving him behind. 

whatever your own dream may be, they’re hella supportive. like suffocatingly so. if it’s something they’re well versed in, like volleyball or cooking, they’re helping you out in every way they can, every second they can. but if they’re unfamiliar with it, they’ll either pretend they’re the most knowledgable people about it and end up embarrassing themselves, or will just support you any other way they can (for example, buying or promoting your things, or proofreading, or helping you edit, etc). 

when the three of you are older and have lives of your own, you still take the time out of your day to catch up. sometimes other days are harder than others, because your lives are so different that there can be no time at all, but every time you see them through a screen or you meet up after hours in osamu’s restaurant, or you and osamu sit front row at one of atsumu’s games, it genuinely doesn’t feel like any time has passed. you’re so different but the exact same. 

they piss you off, insanely so, and you get on their nerves too. you’ve spat ugly words at each other, words you didn’t mean, and made each other cry, frustrated and angered one another, but at the end of the day, you’re siblings. at the end of the day, they’re the most important constants in your life. no matter what, they’re there. 

you can always count on that, you know? :) 

so are y’all gonna send me more prompts like these? 😼 please? 

[tinyjeanmarco]

zeke relationship hc’s!

note: this was just going to be zeke as your husband, but it turned into outright zeke relationship hc’s! modern setting! hope you all enjoy! <3

zeke x gn!reader

warnings: none <3

you wouldn’t believe it, but.. zeke hit on you when you were out at the pool with friends on a hot summer day.

listen, he just thought you looked really hot and he didn’t wanna let someone so stunning slip away so easily.

he was so smooth about it too, he would come up to you, water droplets hanging off his golden, glowing skin, and hand you an ice cold lemonade.

you were really taken aback, unsure if you should trust a random bearded man at the pool who was hitting on you.

your friends were egging you on, saying it had been a while since you dated after your last ex, so give it a go.

agreeing, thinking it was time to finally let go, you asked him for his name and began flirting right back with him.

you two spent the rest of the time at the pool together.

your friends didn’t mind if you spent the day with him, thinking it was funny and also very good for you.

for some reason, it was. you had never met this man before, but suddenly  you just felt comfortable with him.

he asked you for your number after you began to feel tired, stating you were going to go. you gave it to him, not reluctant at all.

he asked you out after you exchanged numbers and you had nodded. he said he would text you the deets and gave a wink before turning to also pack his stuff and leave.

you joined back up with your besties, telling them all about him. they were pretty hyped about the whole situation, saying they would help you get ready for your date whenever it was.

you steadily spent more time with him after that date. that date being a trip to an arcade together. it was a really fun first date and you got to know him a lot better.

moving in with him was fun, moving the boxes in became sort of a game of who could carry the most boxes into the apartment. not necessarily at the same time, but overall. 

he unfortunately won that little game, boosting his ego more than you needed.

now, when he proposed to you, he was a mess of nerves, definitely not his regular confident self, which that in itself tipped you off that something was going on.

he took you on a date to the arcade you went to on your first date when he proposed. it was honestly really sweet, he made sure it was at a place with special meaning for you two.

zeke 10/10 ugly cried at your wedding. he just thought you looked absolutely stunning, he couldn’t help it.

he also probably got totally wasted at your wedding too which gave you tons of funny memories. 

you def whipped out your phone and recorded him being silly as well as taking fun pics with him.

the type to wake up before you and make you breakfast in his underwear.

he likes to bring you breakfast in bed whenever he can. 

wakes you up with soft forehead kisses, brushing his thumbs over your cheeks.

sometimes when he wakes up, he just decides to lay with you, watching how peaceful and comfortable you look.

you eventually wake up and catch him just looking at you, so you roll over onto him, just kinda plopping onto him.

he gives a hearty laugh and just wraps his arms around you whenever you do that, making sure you stay close to him and can’t get up. he wants to bask in the warm sunlight leaking in through the window.

don’t ask why, but when you run your fingers through his hair and scratch his scalp, he becomes a puddle of goo. (maybe it’s the monke genes)

if he were a cat, he would purr whenever you did that.

loves holding you in his arms on the balcony of your apartment, just enjoying the fresh air and sunlight.

he’s only allowed to smoke outside, cause we all know this man smokes too much.

you try to get him to stop as much as you can. he does try, but it’s really hard because it’s a stress reliever whenever he is overworked.

you haven’t been able to get him to stop completely but he definitely has cut down on how much he smokes since you’ve gotten together. just one step at a time.

although he is a smoker, i feel like he would have a really nice singing voice. he sings you to sleep sometimes. it’s just really melodic and gentle. 

that’s honestly another reason you try to get him to stop smoking, because it could harm his vocals really bad and then he wouldn’t be able to sing as well as he does now.

you love hearing him hum or sing along to music as he cooks for you.

sometimes you join in and sing duets together, whether you think you’re good or not, he loves your voice when you sing with him. really makes his day when you join in for the chorus!

a married, grown man, but still a literal child. takes you out on a sushi date and then takes you to a railroad track so you can run around being idiots, just talking.

likes to have deep, meaningful chats with you when you’re walking on the train tracks.

don’t worry, you guys are always safe when you visit them, he wouldn’t ever let anything happen to you or even put you in a dangerous situation if he can help it.

please, i see him as being really good at roller skating. he wants to teach you because it’s something he really enjoys. he will not let you do anything related to skating without elbow pads, knee pads, wrist guards, and a helmet.

buys you fun skates that match his.

also, he wont let you skate without safety gear but he’s out here wearing only wrist guards. mister “i’ve been skating for years” is a hypocrite.

to be fair, he doesn’t fall a whole lot.

you get nervous skating at first so he takes you to empty parking lots to teach you before moving on to skate parks.

ngl i forgot indoor skating was a thing so i didn’t mention it, but he would also take you to those places! would make sure you have your indoor wheels on when you go though.

he doesn’t want you to fall because you have your gummy wheels on, or get in trouble for using the wrong wheels.

you’re really good at it before you even notice because you have such a great teacher.

i see zeke also being the husband that wants to travel a lot. you would go to so many places and experience lots of things.

ziplining, sky diving, bungee jumping, cliff diving. all the things.

he loves going cliff diving a lot though, will yell super loud as he jumps into the water.

you’re scared the first time he takes you, never having done daring things like that before. he tells you that there is no pressure and if you want to go back to the cabin, that’s totally okay too.

you tell him with a trembling confident voice that you’re going to do it. he goes first so he can be ready to comfort you after you jump.

you actually had a ton of fun, the adrenaline pumping through you as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a bruising kiss.

laughter surrounds you two as you get lost in one another.

hiking and canoeing are also something he really enjoys with you.

he tells you all the time how he wants to get a cat or dog so you guys can be like those instagram pages where people take their pets with them on adventures.

zeke also seems like someone who would like to go cold plunging! he likes the health benefits that come with it, as well as connecting with strangers.

now, one final thought since we are on adventure zeke who loves taking care of his mental and physical health, man loves to meditate.

he will make you meditate with him and practice mindfulness and breathing techniques.

10/10, zeke is good hubby and partner in life. he loves going on adventures with you and spending time with you. ♡

[blog-jei6x]

Mostly about character's flaws in LO

I want to talk this time about protagonist`s purpose, action and flaws in LO.

Let’s start that usually protagonist has some goal and protagonist does something for implementation this purpose, and has flaws which hinder to take this purpose. Few examples from some of my favorite stories (you can make parallel with yours and see that it s fair for them too).

Kaiman from Dorohedoro, his purpose is to understand who he is and what happened with him, he catches mages for this, we literally see it from first panels of manga. And this goal goes with him to the end, it main intrigue of plot. On my opinion his main flaw is self-rejection, to find yourself is his purpose and his main problem and it works with each other very interesting.

Furiosa from Mad Max, her purpose is fight for freedom and independence for her and other girls, we understand it very fast and it literally movie plot, yes, her acting changes but purpose still same. it s difficult to notice her flaws, but I think her main problem that she is very separate and doesn't trust others.

Over the Garden Wall, Wirt wants to return to home, his adventure is way to home and his purpose, and his flaws are arrogance and cowardice, after he coped with it, he found the way.

The Tatami Galaxy, protagonist wanted to find love of «raven-haired maiden» and for this he joined different campus clubs, he said about his purpose so many times that it was understandable and it was leitmotif of all story. Oh this dude has a bunch of flaws, he is cowardly, diffident, contemptuous, and I like him, his flaws don’t make him terrible person, they make him human, none of us is perfect. btw it s not very popular anime but rly cool and heartwarming , so check it.

So it s very different stories, but they all have few general features: protagonists have purpose (it is said or understand visually), push their story by actions and cope with own flaws. It s very important moment: not story pushes protagonist, protagonist pushes story. (you can make parallel with yours favorites and see that it s fair for them too).

Sometimes it can be unfair for nasty passive protagonist which has bad finale in the end or protagonist, which trouble is inaction and such person changes in finale, but it s specific stories.

Hades

Part about flaws is fair for Hades and Persephone, Hades actually has bunch of flaws, but they make him displeasing person, not more live. It s sounds hypocritically, isnt it? But flaws makes someone likeable, if this person pay for own flaws, in Tatami Galaxy protagonist can't move forward because of it, he sinks in own mistakes. Hades pay nothing for own flaws.

Let's see on his flaw - anger and how he works with it.

My favorite example of Hades anger: it is when he tortured guy and stolen his eye.

Look at those bastards, they are casual talking above tied guy, they clearly do such thing not in first time. I think would be great if Hades would have to pay for it, for example his reputation would sufferer and Persephone would start to fear or became angry him, he would take apologize of this guy, would sincerely repented and would became a better person and after it Persephone would start to became closer with him, but no he, only became closer with her, he doesn't need became better and to work with uncontrolled anger.

yeah, he returned Alex's eye, but Hades still terrible person, he didn't think that to hurt someone is wrong. He did not change at all.

so at least Hades has goal, he want to find true love, and he think it's Persephone and do some action for it, he wanted to step up to Persephone on party, he saved her from different accidents (tower 4, riot on Styx) he found her when she hidden and he is protecting her from Zeus.

Hades still poor written protagonist, but he has purpose.

Persephone

With Persephone everything is much worse. She doesn't have purpose, she doesn't push own plot, she doesn't work with own flaws. She is just there as beautiful lifeless manikin which goes with the flow.

Let’s see on it more detailed.

First scene where me met Persephone it s scene where another person chosen dress for her, so in first scene we saw how passive she is, she event can’t wear what she chosen, and she did not want to go on this party and Artemis forced her.

From this dialogue we can think that her flaws should be inaction and uncertainty, but again she never had trouble because of It, everyone think that it s cute and attractive.

Just watch on plot further, because she is inexperienced, Eros gotten drunk her, (don't drink with strangers irl, it's actually dangerous) and he and Aphrodite put her in Hades car and everything were fine after as you know. yeah she had some trouble with TGOEM but it s more not because of her flaws because Hestia is mean.

And it's going in all story, she is pushed by plot, or other characters, if you wish. She is in TGOEM because Demeter, she lived on Olympus because Artemis, she started to work in Underworld because Hera, she has salary because Hades likes her, she said Hades to return eye because her classmates, she gone in Tower 4 because Minthe, she became uncontrolled angry because Minthe and evil villagers, and it is mostly her action, she did something because someone pushed her.

She almost didn't do something which was her real decisions, or someone pressed her or she just uncontrolled yourself. And we can't say that it's her flaws because flaws mean to have trouble because of wrong actions.

But for sure she has flaws, again on my opinion uncontrolled anger is flaw, and she has this. Does she have trouble of it? - Not really. Does she try to work with it? - Definitely no. Does she feel guilty? - In very weird and selectively way.

I want to touch two episodes village's incident and Minthe's transformation.

All first season she didn't care what she have done with this people and doesn't show any sorrow about dead nymphs. She said to Hades that she tired from them, no trauma, no sadness. you know if you lose someone which you love you never will say something this way.

But when the truth was revealed she started to show how sad she is, it s very conveniently, show feelings when they are useful. I think it s not normal behavior, usually people can't control yourself so good (she lost her friends few weeks ago and can talk about them so). So looks like her feelings are insincere.

About people she doesn't care too, she never thought about them, never tried to learn how control yourself or get rid of this power, she just continue to live, she doesn't need to work with this trauma, it s so repulsive, I just can’t empathize such person and she doesn’t need it because she already fine.

So she doesn't pay for it emotionally, maybe does she pay for it in another way? - Indirectly, Zeus wants to punish her but everyone condemns him for this, and Hades protects her, she just became closer with Hades and he loves her more because of it.

Almost the same about Minthe transformation, Persephone tried to uncurse her, and shown some kind of remorse, but she danced in next episode and doesn't care, others don't care. Hades was a bit sad few hours I think.

And that s all, no guilty, no remorse, no changes: she just goes forward and lives.

In LO nothing does effect on protagonists, they always the same, they don't need to meet own flaws and defeat them, because everything will be fine anyway it s pretty boring and even nasty in some way, because usually they torture someone weaker and they don't have trouble because they have money and power, it's not enough for making characters interesting.

[astralpenguin]

@transnaturalweek day 2: coming out

1.4k, ao3 link

Kaia knew about Claire, but Claire had never needed to tell her.

Kaia had been there with them while they figured it out. Kaia had listened while they tried putting into words what they’d been feeling for a long time. Kaia had encouraged them to research these feelings, and had been there when they’d found out that there were a lot of people out there who felt exactly the same way. Telling Kaia that, hey, it turned out they’re not a girl after all, was easy, because Kaia had been sitting right next to them when they realised and accepted this about themself in the first place.

But if they wanted the other people in their life to ever stop calling them she, then they had to tell people about it.

Claire wasn’t interested in changing up how they looked. They liked having their hair long, and they liked the tinted lip balms they wore every day, and they didn’t want to bind. But they knew what this meant. They knew what people would assume when they saw them. Frustrating as it was, most people weren’t psychic, and they weren’t going to know that Claire wasn’t a girl unless they told them. Claire would be free to get as angry as they liked at anybody who continued to call them the wrong thing after they’d been told about it, and that anger would be fully deserved, but getting angry at people for using the wrong words to describe them when they literally didn’t know any better wouldn’t help anyone or solve anything. The world sucked, and the assumptions that people would make sucked, but it wasn’t any individual person’s fault.

They knew that if they’d figured this whole gender thing out while Kaia had been gone then they absolutely would’ve followed it up by getting angry at everybody they’d ever interacted with for not knowing. Kaia’s presence in their life calmed them, made them feel more able to face the world and all of its unfairness. They were okay so long as Kaia was in their corner.

And Kaia was in their corner about this. But Kaia couldn’t tell people for them. Claire didn’t want Kaia to tell people for them. This was something that Claire had to do themself.

They already knew how the conversations would go. Castiel and Sam would be supportive for sure. They’d probably be painfully earnest about it. Dean wouldn’t lay it on as thick as the other two, but he’d be supportive as well. Donna would grin like she always does and give them a hug. Jody would thank them for telling her and tell them that she was proud of them. Alex and Patience would actually know how to be chill, and Jack would definitely get excited and be overenthusiastic and very unchill. Claire knew that nobody that they wanted to know would react badly, and they knew that none of the people that loved them would love them any less once they knew.

It was still daunting.

Claire watched the coffee machine do its thing and considered the pros and cons of putting everyone in a group chat, making the announcement, and immediately leaving the chat. It was sounding more and more appealing every second.

“Oh, hey.”

Claire turned towards the kitchen doorway, and the source of the voice.

“I didn’t realise anyone would be in here,” said Patience.

Claire glanced towards the clock. “It’s three in the morning,” they said. “What are you doing up?”

Patience stepped into the room. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Claire flashed a grin. “I haven’t gone to bed yet. You’re the one with a normal sleep schedule.”

Patience eyed the coffee machine. “Are you planning on sleeping?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re making coffee?”

Claire shrugged. “Want some?”

Patience nodded. “Please.”

The coffee machine beeped and Claire poured out two mugs. They stirred in milk and sugar, and handed one of the mugs to Patience.

Most people weren’t psychic, and wouldn’t know Claire’s pronouns if they didn’t tell them. But Patience was actually psychic. Her specific brand of psychic ability allowed her to see into the future, not read minds, so Patience likely still didn’t know. There was a possibility that she’d already had a vision of Claire telling people, but there was a bigger possibility that she hadn’t had a vision about that, especially since Claire hadn’t made a concrete decision yet about when and how they’d be telling people.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” said Claire, leaning back against the counter and cradling their mug. “Why are you awake right now?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Patience turned towards the window and looked out into the night. “It happens sometimes. Usually nobody else is around.”

“Sorry to disturb your insomnia routine.”

Patience caught Claire’s eye through their reflections in the mirror and smiled gently. “It’s okay. You’re not disturbing me. The company is nice.”

“Does Jody know? Or-”

Patience shook her head. “I don’t want to worry her.”

Claire sipped their coffee. “I get that,” they said. “But if it gets any worse then you should tell her. She might seem overprotective but she’s only like that because she cares.”

Patience raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, and you take it so well when Jody’s overprotective with you. Are you really trying to play the wise older sister thing with me right now?”

Claire stifled a laugh, aware that other people in the house were trying to sleep. “That depends,” they said. “Is it working?”

��Nope. You’re too much of a hypocrite.”

“Damn.”

Patience laughed softly and sipped her coffee.

And she didn’t know, she didn’t, so Claire couldn’t be upset with her when what exactly she’d said sunk in a little deeper. Claire wasn’t anyone’s sister, but Patience didn’t know not to call them that. She hadn’t done anything wrong. The only person that Claire could get upset with over this situation was themself, but they weren’t about to do that.

But there was a way to make sure that it didn’t happen again.

For all that it had seemed daunting earlier, in this moment it was easy.

“Speaking of things that Jody doesn’t know about, I’m not a girl.”

The smile on Patience’s face dimmed. She turned to face Claire properly. “You’re not?”

Claire shook their head. “I’m gonna tell everyone soon, but. Yeah. I’m not.”

“So you’re a guy?”

“No,” said Claire. “Well, it’s complicated. I’m kinda somewhere in between.”

Patience nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Should I use they and them when talking about you, then?”

Relief flooded Claire that Patience already knew about this stuff, and that they weren’t about to have to give a big explanation about things that they didn’t even understand themself until a few weeks ago. “Yes, that’s exactly what you should use.”

“Got it,” said Patience. “Do you want me to hold off on using those pronouns in front of people who you haven’t told yet? People might not notice either way, but I wouldn’t want to out you.”

“Uh...” Claire drank more of their coffee as they considered this. “I guess you can judge it for yourself? I’m hoping to tell people soon anyway, so I don’t know if that’ll be an issue. Kaia already knows.”

Patience placed her mug on the counter. “I figured you’d have told Kaia already if you’re telling me.”

“Kaia helped me figure it out.” Claire traced their finger over the rim of their mug. “You’re the first person I’ve told.”

“Oh.” She looked touched. “Thank you.”

Claire pushed themself off the counter and put their empty mug in the sink. “Yeah, well. I mostly just wanted to correct you that I’m your wise older sibling, not sister.”

Patience laughed softly. “Older sibling? Yes. Wise? I’m not convinced.”

“Hey, screw you,” said Claire, a bubble of laughter escaping as they spoke. “I’m wise!”

“Didn’t you nearly get yourself killed last month because you tried fighting a pack of Rawheads by yourself?”

“I successfully fought a pack of Rawheads by myself, and obviously I was fine.”

“Jody was so angry when you told her about it.”

Claire grinned. “She was.”

Patience picked her mug up and placed it in the sink. “I’m gonna head back to my room,” she said.

“Gonna try and sleep?”

She shook her head. “Not much point. I’ll spend a few hours reading and go to bed early tomorrow to make up for it.”

Claire nodded. “Enjoy.”

Patience smiled. “Thanks,” she said. “I will.”

She left the kitchen, leaving Claire alone.

Okay.

So that went well.

They took a deep breath.

Maybe tomorrow they could tell Alex. After that, they weren’t so sure. The group chat announcement was still looking like a good idea.

They didn’t need to worry about it now.

They hit the kitchen light and made their way up to their and Kaia’s room.

It was time for them to sleep.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fire and Light (ao3) - on tumblr: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

- Chapter 10 -

Nie Mingjue was starting to become accustomed to the routine of the cell.

Wen Ruohan would generally visit the Fire Palace twice weekly, sometimes more if he had had a very bad day and wanted to let off some steam. Nie Mingjue would get visited on at least one of those instances, whether for a short time and a bit of emotional devastation or for a longer and much more physically uncomfortable visit, and sometimes more often if Wen Ruohan was not doing well in war.

Wen Ruohan still enjoyed asking him questions, but Nie Mingjue didn’t think he had to answer them anymore. This was a subject that came up sometimes during some of those longer visits.

The rest of the time, he was left to recover and be bored. He was not given access to his saber – Baxia had been hidden away somewhere, he thought, he could feel that she was safe if unhappy – but his spiritual energy was not restrained, the way some other prisoners were.

He spent a great deal of time meditating. Sometimes, if his physical condition allowed for it, he would practice old techniques, trying to focus on a different muscle each time to try to avoid letting them atrophy. His empty hands bothered him, but he deemed it unlikely that anyone would give him equivalent to a saber something to wield, not even if he asked.

Food was twice a day, usually just a bowl of rice and vegetables that the kitchen would otherwise have thrown away, and it was brought by the same prison guard each time.

Nie Mingjue liked the prison guard.

Possibly it was because he was the only person Nie Mingjue saw on a regular basis, other than Wen Ruohan – Nie Mingjue’s cell was a little ways away from the other prisoners, lest they infect him with something and he die too quickly, although he was still within earshot of all the screams – or possibly it was the prison guard’s pleasant demeanor, friendly and calm like a lake of still water.

They were playing a long-running game of sorts.

Nie Mingjue had guessed that Meng Yao – that was the prison guard’s name – was an outsider, recently joined, and that he had previously spent time in both the Lan and Jin sects.  This perspicacity had surprised Meng Yao, drawing his interest, and he had asked, very politely, for Nie Mingjue’s name.

Nie Mingjue had, just as politely, refused to give it.

Meng Yao, surprised yet again, had asked for his reasons.

Nie Mingjue had explained that he wasn’t sure if Wen Ruohan would react badly to other people knowing about him, and it would be a shame for Meng Yao to be murdered while he had yet to achieve whatever it was that he was seeking so strenuously to accomplish.

For some reason, Meng Yao saw this as a challenge.

“Gongzi, I have your dinner,” Meng Yao said. “Would you like me to ask the cook to give you some meat, next time? Just let me know. I would be more than happy to tell her to send more food to…?”

“Certainly,” Nie Mingjue said. “You can tell her that it’s on behalf of the last cell on the right.”

Meng Yao wrinkled his nose at him, and Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes back.

Their normal initial exchange of wits over, Meng Yao gave him the food and supervised him as he ate – a babysitter upon whose head the consequences would fall if Nie Mingjue misbehaved was the condition of giving him chopsticks. Wen Ruohan had a great deal of experience in keeping prisoners alive, and he knew Nie Mingjue’s character quite well.

“I heard that you were giving Sect Leader Wen advice on the war,” Meng Yao said casually as Nie Mingjue tried to guess what pickled vegetable he was eating, since neither taste nor appearance was definitive. “Gongzi must be very well-respected.”

“Did you hear about the part where I told him the best counterstrike would be to shove his troops up his own ass?”

“…and very brave.”

Nie Mingjue chuckled. “And you must be very competent to have made your way up to prominence in two separate sects, especially at such a young age.”

Meng Yao did not want to like him, Nie Mingjue could tell. He did anyway.

It wouldn’t help him if something more important to Meng Yao was at stake, of course – Nie Mingjue had lived too long with Qishan Wen cruelty, selfishness, and ruthlessness to miss seeing it reflected in others – but it was still nice to be liked.

“…how do you know?”

“Was that a direct question?” Nie Mingjue asked. “Be still my heart.”

“This humble servant has observed that gongzi does not answer anything else.”

“Humble,” Nie Mingjue drawled. “Yes, that’s the first thing I think of when I think of you.”

Meng Yao’s eyes were narrowing, though, so he stopped teasing.

“It’s your hair.”

“My – hair?”

Nie Mingjue nodded. “The way you set it. It’s clear that Xichen must have taught you how to arrange the braids personally, which means that you must have gotten fairly high up in the Lan sect – but Sect Leader Wen referred to you as being poached from the Jin sect.”

Meng Yao reached up touch his hair. “…I never made it that high in the Jin sect,” he finally said. “Not even lieutenant.”

“In the middle of a war, with how competent you are? Does Sect Leader Jin have something against you?” A small furrowing of Meng Yao’s brow. “Did you complain that he raped your sister or something?”

A long, slow blink. “Is that a problem he has?”

“Not liking people who try to make him responsible for his actions?” Nie Mingjue snorted. “Yes.”

Meng Yao looked contemplative.

“What are you thinking?” Nie Mingjue asked, finally giving up on the pickled vegetable and handing back the bowl.

“Only that you know a great deal of gossip –”

“Involuntarily, I assure you.”

“– and that you feel comfortable calling Lan-da-gongzi by name, and are familiar enough to know how he personally styles his hair.” Meng Yao smiled. “I’ll figure out who you are yet, gongzi.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Nie Mingjue said. “They’ve probably already forgotten me.”

-

“This is your fault,” Wen Ruohan murmured in his ear, and Nie Mingjue was too weak to refuse to listen. “You did this – to yourself, to them. Why couldn’t you have just been obedient?”

He didn’t know anymore.

-

“I’m Sect Leader Jin’s son,” Meng Yao said.

“Your mother must be a genius,” Nie Mingjue replied.

There was a moment of silence – probably Meng Yao staring at him.

It was probably not the response he had been expecting.

“I’ve met Sect Leader Jin,” Nie Mingjue said in explanation. He was lying face-down on the floor of the cell while Meng Yao tended to his wounds; the conversation, he knew, was only to distract him from the sting of the stitches. “He’s cunning, not smart, horribly self-absorbed, and ‘competent’ isn’t the word I’d use for him; he makes do mostly by paying enough to hire good help. Given the contrast with you, it follows that you must have gotten all the good traits from the other side…I hope he didn’t rape her. Sorry about making that joke, earlier. I didn’t realize.”

“You said sister, not mother.”

“Right,” Nie Mingjue said. “I forgot.”

“Anyway, he didn’t have to rape her. He bought her,” Meng Yao said. He was tightening the bandages now and his hands were perfectly steady. Too steady, the way Wen Qing’s were when she was having to control himself. “She was a whore.”

Nie Mingjue got the feeling that Meng Yao was expecting some sort of reaction. He wasn’t sure what, though.

“Okay,” he said. Out of lack of anything better to say, he added, “Was she nice?”

“What type of question is that?” Meng Yao demanded.

He’d picked the wrong reaction again, Nie Mingjue presumed.

“I don’t know,” he said. His eyes were closed and his forehead was pressed against the cool stone. “I don’t really remember my mother. All I know is that she was a rogue cultivator, and tall –”

“I would never have guessed the latter, gongzi.”

“Yeah, yeah. Like I’ve never heard that one before. My father raised me on his own – we don’t believe in using nursemaids to do it.” He exhaled. “I’m forgetting him, too.”

“He died?”

“Sect Leader Wen killed him.” He heard Meng Yao exhale. “I know. I’m not very filial, am I?”

“I don’t think that’s a consideration,” Meng Yao murmured. “Under the circumstances.”

Nie Mingjue didn’t want to talk about it. “So, your mother,” he said. “Was she nice?”

“…does it matter?”

“Why wouldn’t it matter? She’s your mother, isn’t she?”

Meng Yao chuckled. It was not a nice sound. “Most people don’t really care to listen past the part where they find out she’s a whore.”

“I’ve never actually met a whore,” Nie Mingjue confessed. He was starting to drift off again – it was hard to stay awake. “The closest I ever got to even talking about one was when we had to put the fear of brothels into A-Chao. Sect Leader Wen was trying to ruin him.”

“A-Chao?”

“Mm. Like – a little brother, almost. I’ve got a bunch.”

Meng Yao snickered. “Yes, gongzi does seem the type.”

Nie Mingjue smiled into the floor. He knew that tone – it was just the same as A-Chao’s, in fact. “You’re welcome to join in, if you like.”

Meng Yao’s hands stopped moving abruptly.

“Assuming I’m not dead, of course.”

After a moment, Meng Yao’s hands started moving again. They were gentler.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “After a promise like that, I’ll be sure not to let him kill you.”

“Need to get your money’s worth out of me?”

“Of course.” A pause. “Naturally, it would be easier if gongzi would tell me his name…”

Nie Mingjue huffed – like Meng Yao was going to get him that easily.

“No need for such formality, A-Yao,” he said. “Just call me da-ge.”

-

“You must have some hobbies.”

“Must I?”

“Everyone has hobbies.”

“I collect younger siblings. Does that count?”

“It does not.”

-

“It’s your fault,” Wen Ruohan crooned as Nie Mingjue’s shrieks split the air. “Your fault. You turned them against me. It’s because of you that I’m going to need to kill them…”

-

“I don’t think I would have liked you, in the normal course of things,” Meng Yao said conversationally. “I usually find righteous people boring. Most of the time, they’re arrogant hypocrites, as rigid like the stiff pole that must have gotten shoved up their asses at some point. No one looks down on you like the righteous, and usually for stupid reasons, too. For something as petty and as simple as just not being them. Not having their advantages from the moment you were born.”

He paused. Cleared his throat.

“Lan Xichen was the first one I met who wasn’t like that. He really – he’s nice, I think you would put it. Kind. Everything they say about what gentlemen ought to be, he is.”

A brief silence.

“Naïve, though. Almost painfully so. I twisted him around my little finger without even trying…even when I was trying not to.”

Nie Mingjue believed him. Manipulation seemed to come as second nature to Meng Yao, even when he was being sincere. Sometimes, even especially when he was being sincere.

It was a bit like Wen Xu, actually. It was hard to throw off the way you’d been raised.

“At first I thought the problem was with me, that I didn’t appreciate him enough, that I didn’t understand how to have a friendship with a person like that. A good one. Sometimes I thought, well, no, maybe the problem’s with him – he pities me too much to see what I’m really like, and that means he’s deceiving himself, it’s got nothing to do with me. In the end…I don’t know. I don’t think I ever resolved it.”

He sighed. It was a long, low sound, almost whistling in the dead air of the Fire Palace.

“You’re not like Lan Xichen at all. You really are unbending, rigid, inexorable…I ought to despise you. You ought to despise me. I torture people most of the day, you know. I even enjoy it.”

For all his poise, Meng Yao was younger even than Lan Xichen. He shouldn’t be anyone’s prison guard. Shouldn’t be torturing anyone. How could you blame children for doing something that would win them praise?

“It’s this place that makes me like you, I think. It’s just – it’s filthy, here. Disgusting. The more I’m in this prison the worse it gets. The more bad things I do, the more bad things I think. I barely dare recall my better memories, my mother, Lan Xichen. I’m too afraid that the filth and grime of this place will stain their purity even in my thoughts.”

Nie Mingjue didn’t understand, not really - maybe he’d been here so long that the stain had sunk in already, blackening everything it touched. But he tried as much as he could to sympathize.

“And then there’s you. You, all shining steel and stiff unbending morality, the sort of person I hate the most. But when I’m here knee-deep in the muck, trapped in the dark without any hope of surfacing, I look at you and I feel – it’s almost like I can see light again, reflected in you. As if I’m breathing clean air. For the first time in my life, I think I understand why people have ethics. That they’re not some stupid thing made up by someone to fool someone else into voluntarily crippling the hand they’ve been dealt to play.”

That was definitely not what ethics were.

“I don’t know if we’d get along outside this place. Where I’m still me, with all my flaws that make me all the worse, and you’re still you, with all your imperfections that only make you better, but without this place to make us get along. I really don’t know. For once in my life, I don’t have a goal, a target, a scheme. As far as I know, you’re nobody I can use, and keeping you close to me will only tie an anchor to my legs, weigh me down. But even with all that, even if nothing I do works out and it all blows up in my face…I’d still like to find out. Find out if we would get along, if you really would treat me like your little brother even though you know what I’m really like under the smile. Find out if someone like me really can get along with someone like you.”

Nie Mingjue felt Meng Yao squeeze his hand, and wished he could respond in kind.

“So you have to wake up, da-ge. You hear me? You have to wake up.”

-

“It’s done. They’re gone. And it’s all your fault.”

He lies, Nie Mingjue told himself. He lies, he lies, he lies –

[oiikawabii]

best of friends

oikawa x fem reader x matsukawa, implied iwaizumi x reader

short thing based on this episode of grand army on netflix that was written while i was on a caffeine high after work, so good luck my reading my guy. i really just wanted to get this out before halloween since it’s been a while since i posted and i wanted to get my writing motivation up

Friends fuck each other all the time. The circumstances only suck when one of them is pining and jealous, and the other two don’t actually care about your well being.

tw and cw: ns//fw, noncon, rape, cannabis, public sex 

“So you’re just gonna ignore me all night?” You ask, coming up to Iwaizumi’s side.

He glances at you, but quickly averts his gaze. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about-”

“I thought we had a thing going and now you’re all over my friends all of a sudden?” He interrupts. All night he had to watch you be all cuddly with Oikawa, sitting on his lap and giving him puppy dog eyes, but you made it seem like he was the problem. “I mean, like the least you can do is turn me down.”

A scoff mixed with laughter leaves your mouth. “First of all, you mean our friends. I mean, I’ve been part of this group long enough to be considered their friends right? Second, I just want things to stay normal between us; if they change we all fall out with each other.”

“That’s dumb.”

Your arms swing over his neck and you giggle, “You’re dumb.”

He kisses you. Just a peck, a quick one at that, but he was tempted to do more. Though he wasn’t the one who had to initiate when you start sucking faces with him. Iwaizumi wants to go on, he really does, but he’s so done with your shit. 

“I’m not doing this with you tonight.” He says, backing away.

“Iwa,” You whine, reaching out for him but he dodges your hand.

“I’m actually serious this time.”

“Fine, whatever.” You back off and then announce to the others, “I’m gonna go to the restroom. You douches better not leave me here.”

Watching you walk off, Oikawa comes up and pats Iwaizumi on the back. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Fuck off,”

“You gotta chill-”

“Don’t even fucking touch me! It’s not even like that.” He leans away from the touch on his back.

Oikawa snorts. “Yeah, but you were hoping it was gonna be something. You’re so obvious, it’s barely even funny.”

He rolls his eyes. “You love it when she gives you attention. You know, her and I, we’ve actually been-”

“What? Sucking faces?” Oikawa teases. “I mean, I can’t believe you’re hung up on her and still haven’t gotten it in yet. You know how easy she is?”

Iwaizumi knew it was true, though he didn’t like the way it was implied. “Don’t say that about her.”

“She gives it up so easily,” Oikawa laughs. “I got with her! Hell, even Mattsun was able to get with her. If you haven’t been with her yet then maybe, just maybe, it’s because you’re a pussy.”

Iwaizumi's eyes glare at Oikawa and his comment. “No, I’m just not an asshole like you guys.”

“Acting so high and mighty all of a sudden that you’re hung up on one bitch,” Matsukawa comes over and jokes. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

You come back out, walking towards them with a pep in your step. “Alright idiots, let’s get going!” You beam, throwing an arm over Oikawa. “Got your hash pen?”

Oikawa pulls it out of his pocket and hands it to you. “Don’t steal it.” He scolds, watching you take a hit.

“Too late, this is mine for the night.” You take another hit, blowing it into his face and suppressing a giggle, skipping away from him.

“Fucking idiot.” He laughs, chasing you down the sidewalk. When he catches up to you his arms wrap around your body, lifting you up as your feet kick helplessly.

You squeal, holding on tight to him. “Don’t drop me! Don't drop me!” He hoists you up and down, pretending to lose his grip and almost giving you a death scare.

“Hurry up before we miss the taxi!” Matsukawa calls, running towards the nearest stop with a car about to leave in just a few minutes. 

The group runs toward it, pushing past the busy people on the sidewalk without even a 'sorry' or an 'excuse me'.

“One of you guys should sit in the front.” You comment.

“No, let’s all squish in here.” Oikawa whines, already taking a seat next to Iwaizumi, who was the first inside. He pulls you in after him, tickling your sides and saying some stupid joke about you being all his. He looks over to Iwaizumi, hand resting on your outer thigh, only earning an annoyed sigh in response. The space between everyone grows smaller as Matsukawa gets in last and slams the door shut.

Matsukawa gives the driver instructions before closing the little window that separates the front and the back.

You lean your body over Oikawa to get a clear look at Iwaizumi. “Hey, can we talk or something?” Your response is him shaking his head. “Come on, don’t be that way.” You try to get comfortable and sit next to him, but Matsukawa pulls you back.

“Get over here, princess. If he doesn’t want you then you got us!”

“You fuckers!” You laugh. “I can’t do shit around you guys.”

Another hit. You cheer, throwing your head back as the smoke leaves your mouth.

“Oh my god, are you about to give Matsukawa a show?” Oikawa jokes.

Just to egg you on further, Matsukawa’s hands rest on your hips to help you from swaying with the car. “No,” You drag. “I would never.”

“Come on, show us some moves.”

“How about you show me yours first?” You jab back, poking at his sides. His body jolts, loudly laughing. “Iwa, where are your moves?” You giggle, tracing a finger down his arm. 

“Makki’s already starting to let everyone in for the party, said they were just chilling outside.” Iwaizumi comments.

Matsukawa shrugs. “We’re gonna be late. Fucking traffic!”

You poke at his face, grabbing onto his arm to steady yourself. “Think we should bail? Most of the good stuff might be gone by the time we get there.” He says.

“Dude, no, I’m not bailing on this party tonight.” Oikawa retorts. “Tell him he better save some for us.”

“So you’re just not gonna talk to me now?” You pout.

He stops your hand from swinging in his face. “I’m not not talking to you.”

At this point, you’re slurring. Sometimes you forget how easy it is to get high off of hash, especially as a lightweight. “But you’re not having fun with me anymore, and-”

“Okay, sorry! What, you wanna get on top of me too? Give me a lap dance or something, yeah?” He snaps. “You need any more attention? It’s no problem, let’s go.”

It takes a second for you to register what he said. And when you do, your brows furrow, slapping his chest. “Don’t fucking say shit like that.”

“Chill.” Mattsun snorts, grabbing your hands before you could do more damage. 

Oikawa leans over and whispers into his ear. “I promise you, keep acting this way and she definitely won’t be fucking you anytime soon.”

Matsukawa tries to calm you down, running his hand against your cheek, though you can’t easily ignore what Iwaizumi said to you. “You’re so hypocritical, you know? You know how many girls I’ve seen you fuck around with? I mean, let’s just take it back to the girl you fingered in the dirty ramen shop bathroom! And I didn’t say shit, did I? I don’t need you fucking judging me, okay?”

“I’m not judging you babygirl!” Oikawa snickers.

“I get to do whatever I want with you and whoever the fuck I want to do it with! Fuck you, Iwa-chan!” You slur. You take another hit. “I’m just saying, you guys get to do whatever you want; well, so can I.”

His head shakes. “I’m not saying you can’t.”

“But… you are.”

“I’m just saying I don’t need a fucking blunt.” 

You lean back surprised by his comment. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he meant by that. “Scoot over a little.” You tell Oikawa, swinging your legs over Mattsun’s lap and pressing his face between both your hands. You laugh a little, hips grinding into his before pressing your lips onto his.

There’s a loud chuckle from Oikawa as he drums on your back. “Oh shit! Holy fuck!” He takes out his phone and instantly starts recording. The flash shines on and off of you as he tries to capture the moment. 

Iwaizumi sits off on his side, staring down at his phone to ignore the three of you.

“I get to do that! I need to be able to do that!” You proclaim to him. “And you can’t make me feel fucking guilty about it!”

Matsukawa’s hand gently grabs your cheek to pull you back into him and a disgustingly wet kiss. His hands roam up and down your body, squeezing your thighs and making sure to guide your body to what he liked.

“Yo, you’re like hogging her.” Oikawa nags, putting his phone away and pulling at your wrist. “Come on, can’t just leave me out of this babe.”

“Back off ‘Kawa.” Matsukawa mumbles.

You pull away from him, hands resting on his chest. “Hey, don’t be mean. It’s not that hard to share is it?” You slide between the two of them, lips immediately latching onto Oikawa.

He pulls at your coat, pulling it down your arms to expose more of your body. “Jesus, I forgot to tell you how much I love this dress on you.” He breaths.

At this point, there are two pairs of hands on you; Oikawa’s and Mastukawa’s. Mattsun’s are on your hips, teasing you with soft caresses, keeping your body planted against his chest, feeling every exposed area he could get to as he sucks up and down your neck. Oikawa’s hands are squishing your cheeks, making sure to keep you in the kiss for as long as he wants. His fingers tangle in your hair, hardly giving you any escape. You’re on his terms and you don’t get to stop until he does. It’s not long until you feel the need for an actual breath, though he’s still at it--jesus how was his breath control so good?

You hum against his lips to give him a hint. It seems he doesn’t notice, instead thinking you’re just enjoying the pleasure. It’s not until you pinch his waist that he jerks up, panting with red lips. You wipe yours, looking at Iwaizumi to see what he’s up to. 

Back to looking at that damn phone. 

You lean over Oikawa, a hand resting on Iwaizumi’s leg to see if he would pay attention to you. “Iwa-chan… I think you’re missing out.’ You pout. He rolls his eyes, brushing your hand off.

“Screw him, just means more for me.” Oikawa chimes, pulling you back onto him.

“Look who’s hogging now,” Matsukawa’s hand grips your inner thigh, pulling it towards him. You hiss at the feeling, at how rough he was being all of a sudden. Oikawa’s hand grips your other thigh just as harsh, successfully spreading your legs wide open for the two of them.

Your head swings back onto the seat. “Fuck, that hurt.” Your body wriggles against theirs, trying to close your legs. “G-guys… just wait, just wait,” You huff, soft hands pushing at them.

Your pleas go ignored as both of them are on either side of your neck, trailing down feverish kisses. Matsukawa’s hand is the first to trail up your leg, resting between your thighs. His fingers slide up your slit and press down onto your clit, making a choked groan seep through your mouth.

“I know just how you like it.” He whispers in your ear.

“Mattsun- you guys-”

They giggle and chuckle like schoolboys as you try to fight them off, only using more force and putting more pressure down onto your body. Oikawa’s hand is the next to skitter up your thigh. 

There’s no prep, no warning, no comfort as two--maybe even three, you were too hazy to tell--of his finger thrust into your cunt all the way down to the knuckle. Even the kicks of your legs couldn’t keep them off.

“Iwa- Iwaizumi!” You stagger. You could barely get a good look at him through your blurred eyes, but you know he isn’t paying any mind to the three of you at all, off in his own little world.

“You’re so wet.” Oikawa coos, pumping his fingers in and out of you. He’s fast, skilled with his fingers and in any normal situation it would’ve felt good, but it hurt, and it hurt badly. Every time his fingers curl, your body jolts up and he laughs thinking that you’re getting off when really you’re trying to hold back the pain.

Matsukawa isn’t doing anything better for you. His fingers are tracing sloppy circles over your clit, missing and slipping every so often. It doesn’t even feel like he knows what he’s doing when he’s using more than a light pressure in an attempt to get you off. 

Your eyes try to open again to look for help, to look for Iwaizumi. Through hooded eyes, you make contact with him. Your mouth is agape and, god, you’re probably drooling as you look at him. You can’t even get out normal words, just a garbled mess of moans. His eyes fall from your face to your legs that are twisting in pleasure, no, pain? He gives you a disappointed look, turning away from the sight.

“Do you hear the noises her pussy is making, Mattsun?” Oikawa squeals. “She’s so tight, so fucking tight.”

Their fingers trade places and you don’t know if it’s better or worse. Oikawa is more gentle when rubbing your clit, more considerate. Mattsun pumps into you at a steady pace, testing to see what could make you squirm under him. When you do react, hips jutting forward into nothing, he chuckles and says, “Fuck, I wish I could put my cock in you right now.” At this point, it doesn’t matter what happens to you. Everything is starting to hurt, but it also feels good. You’re conflicted and you just know that you want it over with.

“Gonna- gon-” You choke.

“Aw, she’s gonna cum.” Oikawa mocks. Matsukawa snickers after him.

That’s all you heard all night; Oikawa, Matsukawa, and their stupid laughing fit. You just needed them to shut up, to keep quiet.

Your chest rises and falls rapidly, biting down on your lip hard enough to bleed just to hold onto some dignity and not sound like a prostitute in the back of a moving taxi. One last thrust of Mattsun’s fingers help you come undone for the two of them.

And what lucky timing it was. The taxi comes to a stop as it pulls up to the house with loud music blaring through the walls.

“I’m sick of your guy’s shit.” Iwaizumi mumbles as he opens the door. 

The other two follow suit in getting out of the car, greeting other peers, and mingling around. Though you’re still processing everything. Your head falls between your knees, wiping the streaks of tears away and putting on a happy face before hopping out to join everyone.

[mashiraostail]

plz sir may i have some general midnight fluff hc?? please im starving

dfhdsk yes sir i will feed you

ngl this kinda hurt my feelings but its all soft and fluff no angst or anything but like...damn...i rlly do b fleshing this woman out better than mangaka himself 

*She’s a super light sleeper but she does not mind always getting woken up by you, since she can fall asleep so fast, you’ll be in the middle of a convo and just look over and she’s passed out mid-sentence. Getting woken up by your sleepy snuffling just means she can cuddle up a little closer to you or just feel your warmth a little longer.

*Unlike some of the other teachers who may just not think to do it/don’t very much care she makes it a point to introduce you to her friends after you’ve been together long enough, if it’s just sex she won’t bother for obvious reasons but if it’s more than that even if it’s not super serious she’ll still do it, she likes for her life to be fairly blended work and personal life don’t really have a harsh line drawn between them, she likes it when her s/o is friends with her friends. If she hears about you texting Mic, or helping Eraser patch up his costume, or getting lunch with Vlad and Hound Dog she’s going to be totally over the moon, she’s never jealous of or wary of her friends around you. Go ahead and hang on Mic at that party she’ll think it’s funny and sweet and she’ll be glad the pair of you get along so well.

*She’s a really good cook but she hates cooking sometimes. She’s either super in the mood to make food or she’ll beg and whine for you to do it. 

*She wouldn’t mind dating another pro but also I think dating a non-hero responder (police officer, firefighter, paramedic, detective etc..) or especially just a civilian would be something she’d enjoy a little more than the others, I don’t think any of the pros have a strong preference either way, a job is rarely a deal-breaker, it would be sort of hypocritical of them considering how busy their work keeps them. That in mind the more mundane her s/o’s 9-5 the more she’ll kinda like it..she gets a little sense of normalcy if you have a set schedule and set day off and set vacation time,  she really likes it. Not because she’s controlling/overbearing but just because she sort of likes routine..and the domesticity of it all. If you have every Tuesday off so you always bring her lunch or if you get off early Saturday afternoons so you always go to see her at her agency that day will become her favorite day of the week. If you’re always home by 6 PM it will become the best part of the day. Always being able to expect you at home when she returns is a treat for her (especially if you like cooking too, the first few times she comes back to you cooking dinner for her you probably at least make out in the kitchen). 

*She likes handholding and if that’s your preference she won’t be upset by it but her absolute favorite thing to do is pet her arm around you, she likes being able to squeeze you. 

*If you have long/unruly or very textured hair she’ll take so much joy in being asked to help style it, ask her to braid it for you, help you diffuse it, can she straighten that one piece in the back? All of it just makes her soo happy so don’t be shy asking her to help you out, and if you’re comfortable do the same for her. 

*She’s such a hugger, she may not kiss you all the time but she’ll at least have to hug you every time you part ways and it’s never a half-assed hug either it’s allllwaayys a tight squeeze and you’re pretty sure you always hear her take in a big whiff of your hair or the crook of your neck before she pulls away. 

*Always is telling you she missed you after short periods of time. You went out to grab take out and took a minute longer? ‘I missed you babe’ You got stuck at work and got home later than expected. ‘I’m so glad you’re finally here babe I missed you.’ Went to the bathroom? ‘I missed you.’ She just thinks it's funny to watch you roll your eyes at it despite the fact that you always go right to her side whenever she says it. 

*Will be very suggestible during a back rub/ shoulder massage. If you need something from her that is the time to ask, she knows she's being set up the minute she feels you climb on top of her but it feels too good to stop you. She knows she's about to agree to some stupid shit but she can’t help it.  

*Chronic neck kisser, she’s always kissing your neck, if your sensitive or it flusters you she’ll do it even more. Honestly, at times she goes for your neck/jaw before going for your lips. Doesn’t really care who’s around to see it, if your back is turned to her, unexpecting, she only has one thing on her mind. But even when you’re hugging or cuddling or about to go to sleep at night she can’t help but pepper a bunch of kisses around your neck and collar. 

*Speaking of sleeping she prefers sleeping with as little clothing as possible because, a, it makes morning sex more accessible and she cannot lie it is her favorite, and b, she has terrible wandering hands, she likes to touch and squeeze and pinch everywhere she can. Her favorite spot is the place where your ass and thigh meet she’s always pinching you right there on either leg if you’re laying on your chest. 

*Probably also the cheesiest out of the group if the relationship is really well established/once it is. She can definitely fall victim to domestic bliss and it makes her totally lovesick for her s/o. She's definitely the kind of partner that like when you say something like ‘oh my hands are cold’ or ‘ahh I ran out to the trash without shoes on now I’m freezing’ to just like take the afflicted body part(s) between her hands and rub them really aggressively while she breathes hot air on them/kisses them and scolds you for staying out in the cold too long while she makes that pouty affectionate ‘oooh’ noise.       -At first, she loves summer and it’s her favorite, and she’ll always love summer; the warm weather and sunshine gives way to amazing moods, people are always so happy in the summertime, but the longer she’s in a relationship the more winter becomes appealing to her. She still loves summer for all its beaches and warmth and bare skin and even tans. As strange as it sounds a slow sticky August morning will always be one of her favorite things...but winter with its big sweaters and hand-holding and cuddling for warmth? Seeing you come inside and peel off a huge scarf and big, chunky gloves, your hat pulling away to reveal disheveled hair covered in quickly melting snowflakes, nose and cheeks red from the temperature, lips and eyes just a bit puffy and irritated from the wind. Watching you shed multiple snow-covered layers to reveal cool skin that’s still somehow pink and flushed from the snow?...yeah, she probably realized she was in love with you in the winter.  

[cinaja]

Before the Wall part 54

Masterlist

----

Standing at the edge of her camp, Andromache surveys the castle perched at the bottom of a nearby cliff. The castle itself looks unusually small, but its back extends deep into the cliff, hidden from view and protected by tons of stone. Amarantha choose her hideout well. After the Alliance landed their ships on Hybern’s shores a few weeks ago, she took the soldiers remaining under her command as well as the people living on her land and barricaded herself in the fort with them.

For the weeks Andromache’s army has been stationed in front of the castle, glaring over at it has been all she’s been able to do. This, she reflects, is the exact reason she hates sieges. They are tenuous affairs, straining, above all, her patience. Still, as long as they manage to keep Amarantha and her army contained in their hideout, it will leave the rest of the Alliance’s troops free to take Hybern with little resistance.

Andromache tears her gaze away from the castle and looks over at Miryam who is standing next to her, also staring over at the castle, eyes narrowed slightly and fingers flexing and unflexing at her side. She looks like she would love to send the entire cliff crumbling over Amarantha’s head, which is not a particularly reassuring expression from someone who is actually capable of doing just that.

As if following her thoughts, Miryam turns around to Andromache. “I might be able to find a way through the wards,” she says. “I’d have to be careful – Amarantha brough her slaves along and I can’t put them in danger – but I might find a way that only takes out their defences.”

“Thank you for the offer,” Andromache says, “but an attack is not planned. All we need to do is keep Amarantha where she is. As soon as her king surrenders, she will, too.”

Miryam wrinkles her nose. “And she’ll likely be spared,” she says. “Just as everyone else.”

Andromache is not entirely sure what to reply to that. It was always Miryam who pushed for the need to show leniency to surrendering Loyalists, Miryam who convinced the other human Alliance leaders that this is the path with the highest chance of leading to success. Andromache was always amongst those who were more doubtful, angry that the Loyalist leaders would walk away unscathed, but now, Miryam seems intent on reversing their roles.

This is you plan, not mine, Andromache thinks, but doesn’t say it. After all, she knows that Miryam only pushes for this strategy because she firmly believes it is the smartest choice, not out of any actual belief in showing mercy to people like Amarantha.

“You could push for her death to be made a condition for any surrender Hybern will sign,” she says.

“And expose myself as a hypocrite for all the world to see?” Miryam’s tone is bitter, her gaze flickers back to the castle. “What do you think it will look like if I push to punish only the people who harmed me personally?”

Andromache opts to remain silent on that, both because she knows Miryam is right and because she still doesn’t entirely agree. Yes, it would look bad, but how much can one misstep weigh against seven years of running the Alliance with hardly any mistakes at all? Amarantha would certainly deserve death, and as far as Andromache is concerned, the more of these monsters get brought to justice the better.

“If we attack the fort,” Miryam says, “we could avoid any political issues with trying to bring her to justice. And who knows – Maybe if the king sees his most important general defeated, it will push him towards surrender.”

Andromache sighs. “Killing Amarantha won’t undo what she did to Jurian,” she says softly.

It was not a subject she was originally going to bring up. But if Miryam insists on being unreasonable about this, she has no choice.

Miryam presses her lips together. “I’m well aware. It might make me feel better, though. And even if it doesn’t, at least we will have brought a sadistic Loyalist general who more than deserves death regardless of what she did to Jurian to justice.”

“The answer is still no,” Andromache says, even though she would like nothing more than to give in and help hunt Amarantha down. “And I’m sorry, Miryam, but no matter how hard you argue, I won’t have you anywhere near a battlefield with Amarantha on it. Chances of you getting killed would be far too high.”

“I can take Amarantha.”

“Or you’d make a stupid mistake and get yourself killed. You are far too emotionally involved in this. And don’t bother denying it – the fact that we are having this conversation at all proves me right.” Andromache keeps her voice soft but firm. “You are being unreasonable and you know it.”

Miryam looks away, and Andromache feels like a terrible hypocrite. What right does she have to forbid Miryam from going after Amarantha? If anyone harmed Mor, she certainly wouldn’t let anyone stop her from hunting them down. Still, it seems that for today, she is stuck in the ungrateful role of being the voice of reason.

Before she can change her mind, though, Miryam straightens. “You’re right.” Somehow, she managed to chase and traces of anger from her face. “Apologies. Please forget I suggested anything – I have been sleeping too little, and I’m afraid it is messing with my judgement. It won’t happen again.”

“Alright,” Andromache says. Miryam snapping all of her walls back up is far from ideal, but at least it is far less likely to get her killed than the alternative.

Miryam nods. Pushes a loose strand of hair out of her face. “Then we’ll see each other at the council meeting later,” she says.

Andromache inclines her head in agreement and Miryam hurries off with a parting smile, her guards following after her. Andromache remains standing at the camp’s edge for a moment longer, then turns and walks back into the camp.

She doesn’t have anything in particular that needs to be done before the meeting in two hours, she decides to spend the time with her soldiers. She walks around the camp, chatting with the some of the passing soldiers and the camp’s smith. She just finished inspecting the new swords he’s working on when someone wraps their arms around her from behind.

“Hello,” Mor whispers into her hair.

Andromache smiles. Mor lets go of her quickly – she is always careful with how much affection she shows in public – and spins her around to face her.

“Hello,” Andromache says a tad breathlessly. She tugs her hair aside to distract herself from wanting to kiss Mor, which she definitely cannot do in the middle of the camp. She links her arm with Mor’s and starts leading her towards her camp where they will have some privacy. “How is Rhys?”

Mor’s smile dims considerably. “He isn’t doing well,” she says. “The injuries are mostly healed, but… What happened to him hit him hard.”

Andromache squeezes her arm. “I’m sorry,” she says.

Mor shrugs and nods at the same time. “I wish…” Her expression hardens. “I wish I could kill Amarantha for what she did.”

Andromache sighs through her nose. It seems like today is the day of her having to talk people out of killing Amarantha, even though she herself would also like to kill Amarantha. It is very frustrating.

“I just had this conversation with Miryam.”

“And you talked her out of killing her?” Mor sounds incredulous. “Why?”

“Because I believe what happened with Jurian proved to us all how badly it can end when people try too hard to get their revenge. And I don’t want to have to burn either of you two, so it seems I’ll have to be the reasonable one here.” She shrugs. “Besides, if we attack, chances of the humans there being caught in the crossfire are far too high.”

Mor sighs. “Damnit,” she mutters, voice somewhere between joke and seriousness. “Why are you always right?”

Andromache laughs and pulls open the entrance to her tent. “After you,” she says. “I’ve got almost an hour left until the meeting with the council. We could have lunch together if you’d like.”

----

By the time Miryam is back in her rooms in the palace in Sajeo, she has worked her way through a startling number of different emotions. Starting out with anger, she has quickly gone through disappointment, sadness and embarrassment, and is now back at anger, this time at herself for behaving so ridiculously.

“Stupid,” she mutters to herself as she pulls off her leather boots and places them in the corner. “Be any more obvious about the fact that you don’t have your shit together, will you?”

She only realizes she is crying when she feels the wetness on her cheeks. “Shit,” she mutters, voice coming out far too high-pitched. She furiously wipes at her eyes, but that doesn’t do much to stop the tears, so she simply drops down into the nearest armchair and presses her face into her arms.

She doesn’t know what’s wrong with her. During the autumn festival two days ago, everything was just fine, as close to good as it gets these days. She had thought that evening and what Ghost had told her would raise her spirits enough to easily carry her through the next few weeks.

But apparently, her emotions don’t make any sense at all anymore because she barely made it through the surprise-negotiations with Montesere yesterday and didn’t manage to get so much as an hour of sleep last night, nightmares chasing her from her sleep every time she dozed off. Sometimes she dreamt of Jurian – Jurian screaming for her as he lay tied to a torture table, Amarantha laughing, Jurian dead on the ground, Jurian blaming her for not saving him. Sometimes, she was back in the Black Land, a slave again as if she never escaped at all. Sometimes, she has already won the war, but Ravenia is there, laughing at her because she will never get punished, or because her people are dead and she was unable to do anything to save them.

She has no idea where this is coming from. Well, she supposes there are several options. Jurian’s death might be catching up with her. Or this is the worry that comes with being so close to the end of the war, the fear that everything she ever fought for might be snatched away moments before she reached it. Of course, there is also the option that she is finally cracking under the stress. That one would be particularly unpleasant.

At least the tears stopped by now. Miryam even feels marginally better except for the fact that her face is swollen slightly, which is a nightmare since she has a council meeting in two hours. An important meeting, no less, since they will be discussing the threat at Erithia’s border among other things.

Miryam finds a jug of water at her bedside and washes. She kneads oil into her thick curls and applies cosmetics. Once done, she looks at least halfway presentable. Once she changed out of her tunic and into a deep blue dress, she doesn’t think she looks worse than the usual. Tired, but well, they are all tired.

She is just done weaving a blue ribbon through her hair when a light knock sounds at the door and Drakon pokes his head in.

“Ready?” He asks.

One last glance at her reflection in the mirror confirms that she looks well enough for the meeting. “Ready.” Lifting the hem of her dress with one hand, she turns to Drakon. He is wearing blue as well, although it is far lighter than the colour of Miryam’s dress. “You look very handsome,” she says as she links her arm with his.

Drakon smiles. “Thank you. You do, too. I like the ribbon.”

Miryam returns the smile, mood lightening considerably. She squeezes Drakon’s arm and lets the feeling comfort her.

They arrive at Telique later than most, but not yet so late that it would draw unwanted attention. Miryam takes her usual seat next to Andromache, Drakon sitting down on her other side. She has to fight the embarrassment bubbling in her stomach. She really made a fool of herself earlier. It was so stupid. She doesn’t even want to know what Andromache thinks of it, she must consider her truly –

She forces herself to stop that line of thought before it can go any further. Andromache, she reminds herself, is one of her closest friends. You can be foolish with your friends occasionally, there’s no inherent issue with it and she does their relationship a disservice if she acts like Andromache will think less of her for it.

The meeting begins relatively unspectacularly. They spend an hour discussing the updates on the different war fronts and Miryam gives and official report on the negotiations in Montesere. Its rulers, proud to a fault, had been reluctant to admit that they were considering surrendering sooner than most of the other Loyalist countries, but they let it shine through that they would be willing to stay largely neutral for the remainder of the war in exchange for favourable conditions later on. Apparently, they don’t want to be marked cowards for an early surrender, but don’t want to risk punishment for holding out too long either.

Andromache frowns slightly at the report, and Nakia presses her lips into a thin line. Miryam can understand their annoyance – this strategy means that the humans in Montesere will spend a few more months than necessary in slavery. But Montesere will not consider surrender at this point, and save for military action, which might endanger the very people they are trying to save, Miryam sees no way to change their minds.

The council at large agrees that it is best to leave Montesere alone and reach out to them again once a few of the other big Loyalist countries have surrendered so that they will be allowed to save face.

“Alright. Now that this is settled, let’s move on to the next point,” Miryam says. “Drakon and I have noticed a worrying troop movement near Erithia’s northern border. Troops from both the Black Land and Vallahan, as well as some from Rask, are assembling there. Does anyone have intel on what their task might be?”

Silence answers. After a moment, Zeku speaks. “I have no concrete information,” he says, “but given your… history with Ravenia, I’d assume that the target of whatever they are planning will likely be Erithia.”

Miryam nods, trying to ignore the knot that begins to form in her stomach. Ravenia had quarrel with Erithia well before she married Drakon – in fact, she would argue that it was Drakon’s father who started this issue in the first place – but she can’t help but feel that she made it worse with the marriage. Any invasion that might be happening will be at least partially because of her.

“We came to the same conclusion,” she says. “And I think it would be sensible to send some additional troops to Erithia. Even should it not be the target of this attack, that way, we will have enough soldiers in the region to counter whatever Ravenia is planning.”

“I agree with Miryam,” Nakia says. “And we should act quickly so that the soldiers will arrive in time to be of any use.”

Miryam nods. It is the only logical course of action, and certainly not something she expected resistance to. But resistance there is and, just as surprisingly, it comes from one of the lower-ranking Fae rulers, someone who wouldn’t generally speak out against suggestions made by the Alliance leaders.

“Forgive me, Your Highness, Your Majesty,” he says, inclining his head first at Miryam, then at Nakia, “but I am not entirely sure if this is the most prudent course of action.”

He falls silent, apparently waiting for someone to give him permission to continue. Miryam would like nothing better than to let him stew – something is very wrong about this situation – but that might just make it worse. “Go on, then,” she says coolly.

“This is a large percentage of the Black Land’s army, as well as Vallahan’s. Their presence at Erithia’s border leaves both of those countries unprotected and many of their allies short on reinforcements. It might be in our best interest for those armies to remain there for the time being.”

Miryam narrow her eyes at him. Strictly strategically speaking, the plan has merit, but she would bet both of her spellbooks that it wasn’t his idea to suggest this, and that the intention behind it isn’t a good one. He would never have dared without the backing of someone who has more power than he does.

“Only most people don’t assemble an army just to leave it standing where it is,” she says. “Those armies won’t just do us the favour of remaining where they are, they will march on Erithia, and we will need reinforcements to be able to fend them off.”

Silence answers. Then, after a moment, another minor Fae leader speaks up. “If we send soldiers,” he says, “Ravenia might decide to do the smart thing and abandon her quest, which would free those soldiers to return to other war fronts. If we manage to keep them occupied for long enough, if Ravenia still believes she can reach something that way, we might be able to take the rest of the Continent with little resistance and decide the war in half of the time that it would take otherwise.”

A shiver runs down Miryam’s spine. “And how exactly do you intend to keep these armies occupied?” She asks sharply. She looks around the table, but no one seems quite willing to meet her eye. Drakon is looking at her, though, like he is hoping for some explanation or reassurance. Miryam can offer neither.

“This suggestion is ridiculous,” Nakia finally says, voice gruff. Miryam could have hugged her for it. “It should go without saying that purposefully allowing one of our countries to be invaded is not an option and shouldn’t even be considered.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to disagree,” Shey says. “It is a drastic strategy, true, but we have to think of all the lives that might be saved. All the soldiers who might not die if this war ends sooner, the humans we will be able to free more quickly.”

Miryam presses her lips together. That hypocritical, two-faced snake. As if he ever cared about freeing the humans. No, his real intention is quite transparent: This is not an attempt to end the war more quickly, but a direct attack on her. He likely coordinated with the other Fae, asked them to bring the suggestion forth so that it wouldn’t be quite as obvious that this was his doing.

But surely he can’t expect this suggestion to go through. The council might no longer stand behind her as they once did, but they would never allow an entire country to be invaded, its civilians slaughtered. They wouldn’t. And Shey must know. So what is he playing at?

Drakon is still watching her, waiting for her to say something, but she doesn’t know what to do. Without knowing Shey’s strategy, anything she says might end up working against her. Maybe whatever plan Shey actually has relies on her arguing against his stance, maybe whatever trap he is laying will snap shut the moment she voices disagreement with what he said.

“And what about the people this plan will kill?” Drakon asks and Miryam realizes that she waited too long with her decision. “You might not care about them, Emperor, since they are not your people, but I didn’t know that this Alliance left innocents to die.”

Miryam hides her wince. This was far more offensive than anything she might have said, and she doubts that accusing Shey of not caring for innocents will work in their favour, true though it might be. This is on her, though, for not answering herself.

Shey doesn’t jump at the insult. Instead, he merely inclines his head in faked sympathy. “Please take my word on it that no one is considering leaving your people to die, or your country to fend for itself. There’s still enough time to evacuate, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who would be willing to offer resources to help with that.”

Shit. Miryam freezes. She was wrong – Shey wasn’t trying to coax her into some foolish reaction by pushing for unrealistic plans. This is his endgame. He actually does want to destroy Erithia, and by taking the issue of civilian casualties out of the game, he just made the plan a whole lot more realistic.

“And what about their homes?” Drakon asks. He doesn’t entirely manage to hide his desperation. “What about the fields and workshops – are we to starve next year because our entire country has been destroyed?”

“There would, of course, be reparations,” Shey replies evenly. He is playing his part well. By remaining so calm and sympathetic, he makes Drakon look unreasonable and emotional by comparison. “You and your people would receive any means necessary to help rebuild, as well as food enough to last you through the next year.”

Why is he doing this? It makes no sense. This must be an attack at Miryam somehow, but out of everyone in Erithia, she will actually be the one who is least affected. Her emotional connection to the country is not yet that strong, she will only suffer through having to watch its people suffer. All Shey is doing is stripping thousands of innocents of their homes and making them into fugitives for no good reason at all.

And then, she figures it out. Her marrying into royalty scared the Alliance, so now, they are trying to undo it by destroying the country whose leader she became.

It makes a horrifying amount of sense. If Shey’s plan goes through, Erithia will spend the years to come rebuilding and relying on help from the outside. That help might even actually be offered, but what must count to Shey is that it will make it impossible for Miryam to pursue any ambitions of her own after the war.

She needs to stop them. Not for the reasons Shey undoubtedly thinks, but because there is no way she can allow so many people to suffer because of her.

“Still, this goes against some of the very foundations of this Alliance,” she says, voice mercifully calm even though she herself is anything but. “We stand together against any enemies and we certainly don’t leave one country to be destroyed.” She looks around the table. “I realize that this might seem like an easy choice for most of you, but ask yourselves: If it was your country under attack, what would you wish for the Alliance to do? Is this truly a precedent you wish to set?”

A few of the listeners shift uncomfortably in their seats, but most seem unmoved. A few years ago, this argument would have convinced them easily, but now that the war is drawing close it its end, it no longer holds as much weight. There is no real reason for anyone at this table to fear that their country will end up in the situation Erithia is in now anytime soon, so they don’t need to worry about precedents.

Shey doesn’t even bother to reply to her argument. Instead, he only gives her a sympathetic smile and says, “I know that you are personally involved in this situation, Your Highness, so I can sympathize with your stance. But you have to understand that this is the sensible route.”

Miryam stares at him. He completely dismissed her. And not only that – he as good as invalidated any other argument she might have brought forward. To make matters worse, there is nothing she can do to dispute his claim. She can’t deny emotional involvement because she is involved and everyone knows.

“Miryam is right, though,” Andromache says. “And honestly, there might be a time and place to take such risks, but it isn’t now. We are already winning, there is no need to gamble with thousands of lives.”

It’s a lost cause. Miryam only needs to look around the table to see it. A few people seem to be on her side, but nowhere near enough. She turns to Zeku, silently begging him to help her, but he doesn’t even meet her eyes.

“Then let us vote,” Shey says. “That way, we’ll see what the majority thinks.”

Drakon turns to Miryam, eyes wide, but what can she do?  Nothing she can say will change anything, and if she tries to stop the vote, she will just make more people turn against her.

“Alright, then,” she says.

The vote isn’t even close. The other humans stick with Miryam, as do two or three of the Fae, and some abstain, but most support Shey’s plan. This is a nightmare. A complete and utter nightmare.

“But that’s impossible,” Drakon whispers. “We can’t do that.” He shakes his head. “How can you decide this, it isn’t even your country!”

“You are, of course, free to decide what Erithia’s next steps will be, Your Highness,” Shey says. “But the Alliance will not send troops to support you should you choose to fight.” He turns towards the assembled leaders. “I believe it would be best to end the meeting here so that Prince Drakon and Princess Miryam may decide on their next steps in private.”

Miryam would very much like to tell him where he can shove his faked sympathy, but that wouldn’t change anything. Not quite able to muster a polite farewell, she rises and waits for Drakon to do the same before stalking out of the room.

“We can’t do that,” Drakon says as soon as they are outside. His wings are trembling and he has his fingers balled into tight fists. “We can’t.”

Miryam nods. “I know.” The desperation on his face makes her chest constrict painfully. This is her fault, they are only doing this because of her. She messed up, she messed up so badly. And in the meeting, she didn’t even manage to follow any strategy. She just let Shey walk right over her. “I’ll try - ”

Drakon doesn’t appear to hear her. “This isn’t an option,” he says. “We need to find a different way, we can’t do this.”

Miryam reaches for his hands, a feeble attempt to offer comfort. “Alright,” she whispers. “Alright. This will be fine. I’ll fix this.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth, she regrets them. What is she thinking, making promises she has no way to keep? She doesn’t have an army large enough to ward off this assault, and she doesn’t have a way to get one. Once, she might have had the political power necessary to convince people to help regardless of what the Alliance wants, but these days, most of the Fae members of the Alliance seem more inclined to work against her than help her. The other humans might help, but most of their armies are stuck in other assignments and even if they weren’t, they likely wouldn’t be able to move quickly enough.

If Miryam could, she would take the words back, but she doesn’t know how. Drakon looks a bit less desperate now, and she feels terrible about giving him hope where there is likely none, but she can’t bring herself to take it away either.

This is her fault. It’s retribution for her mistakes, the Fae punishing her for holding a position she has no right to in their eyes. Only they aren’t punishing her, except maybe by forcing her to watch other suffer for her actions. If anyone gets punished here, it’s Drakon. And his entire country. They are punishing thousands of people who have absolutely nothing to do with this.

She can’t allow this to happen. If it had hit her and only her, she would have accepted it, had prepared to accept it, but this… this goes too far.

“I’ll fix this,” Miryam repeats, this time with more confidence. “Can you wait here? I have to talk to some people.”

Drakon nods, shoulders slumping. If Miryam had to guess, she would say he feels bad for not being able to contribute anything to the solution. She should tell him that this was her fault in the first place and that it is only right that she should fix it, but she can’t bring herself to say the words so she merely squeezes his hands before letting go and walking back into the meeting room.

Everyone else is still there, although they left their seats and are now standing around in small groups, talking in quiet voices. Miryam ignores the looks directed her way, some full of pity, others smug, and walks directly towards Shey.

“Your Excellency,” she says without inclining her head in greeting as she should have. She doesn’t care if he thinks her impolite, being addressed by title is already more than he deserves. “A word.”

Shey inclines his head, expression mildly curious. There is an amused cast around his eyes, though, and it takes all of Miryam’s safe control to keep from gritting her teeth. “As you wish, Your Highness,” Shey says.

Miryam turns around and stalks off towards one of the private meeting chambers without waiting for Shey to follow. She is not exactly keeping to the rules of diplomacy, she knows as much, but in this specific situation, she sees no reason to hide her anger.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this conversation?” Shey asks once they have reached the meeting room. His tone remains politely inquisitive, but now, he definitely seems amused.

Miryam closes the door behind them, then turns to face him. “You are going too far,” she says icily.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

Miryam bites down the reply simmering on her tongue. Takes a deep breath instead. Anger won’t accomplish anything here, it will just make Shey lose whatever respect he has for her and weaken her position further. She needs to keep a cool head and not let him taunt her. She has to fix it, she promised Drakon she would.

The look on his face during their conversation earlier flashes through her mind, and suddenly, the idea of simply extinguishing the blue aura shimmering around Shey seems far more attractive than it did a moment ago. Not helpful. Murdering Shey won’t solve any of her problems, but create a host of new ones instead.

“I think you do know,” she says. “And I would appreciate if we could skip the games and get straight to the point.”

Shey still has that half-smile plastered on his face. “And what would the point be?” He asks lightly.

“I know what you did. I know why you did it. And I want you to fix it.”

Shey’s smile doesn’t waver. “I’m afraid you are mistaken. I did not do anything.”

Miryam ignores him. “What do I have to do to make you fix this?”

Now, she has his attention. She sees it in the slight narrowing of his eyes, in the way his entire posture seems to straighten. “Is this an offer?”

Miryam’s heart is thundering in her chest, everything in her is screaming that this is a bad idea, that she shouldn’t make herself vulnerable like this, but what other course of action is left to her?

“Yes.”

“I see,” Shey says, and then, he says nothing at all for a while. He simply watches Miryam.

She stares back at him, trying hard not to show her nerves. This is the only way, she is sure of it. She doesn’t think that she has the power to sway the council on this, not anymore. She needs Shey. The alternative…

“And interesting offer,” Shey says. “You are aware, of course, that I could ask practically anything?”

Miryam gives a curt nod. She supposes just because Shey asks something, she wouldn’t have to comply and she didn’t really give much thought to what he might ask of her, but now… What if he tells her to jump off the palace’s highest tower? The thought sends ice shooting through her body, she shivers slightly.

“I’ll admit, you surprise me,” Shey says. “I did not think you cared enough about your husband to be this stupid for his sake. Don’t you think this isn’t quite worth it?”

Miryam shakes her head. “I’d explain it to you, but I don’t think you’d care enough to listen. Or understand.” Neither her relationship with Drakon, nor the fact that she would be doing this even if it wasn’t for him. She certainly doesn’t need a personal stake to be opposed to hundreds of thousands of innocents losing their homes, but this is not the type of thing Shey could ever understand.

“I’m almost tempted to take you up on that offer,” Shey says, “if only to see how far you’d be willing to go. But I really have no reason to humiliate you, amusing though it might be. You’ve fared admirably well so far, and I’d rather get this over with everyone’s dignity intact.”

Does he even realize how twisted that logic is, how it disgusts her? Her dignity he may spare, but if she isn’t entirely mistaken, his end goal is still to see her dead. And he doesn’t care at all about the hundreds of thousands of people who are getting caught up in the crossfire.

“Thousands of people,” Miryam says. She doesn’t think he will care – he would never have come up with this plan if he did – but she still has to say it. “You can’t… you can’t just drag thousands of people into this.”

“I believe you were the one who dragged them into this, as you put it,” Shey says. “If it wasn’t for you, none of this would happen.”

The words are a punch to the gut. “I – “ Miryam begins, but Shey cuts her off with a shake of his head.

“There is nothing you can offer to change my mind,” he says. “You’ve already lost, and I have no reason to settle for anything but a full victory.” He smiles slightly. “Go comfort your husband,” he says. “We’ll see each other during the next meeting.”

With that, he turns around and walks out of the room. Miryam stares after him. She realizes, distantly, that she is shaking; she doesn’t know if it’s with fury or despair. How can she face Drakon, face anyone from Erithia? She did this, she brought this about, she…

Her throat tightens and her eyes burn, tears threatening to well up, but she forces them down. Straightens and walks out of the room.

She runs into Zeku as she rounds the first corner. Clearly, he didn’t expect to meet her, nor is he pleased with the fact if his tense body language is anything to go by.

“Miryam,” he says. It’s the first time in months that he doesn’t address her by title, and he looks around to check for any listeners before turning back to her. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, you just need to help.” It is a graceless attempt, but she has no energy left for dancing around the subject.

Zeku adverts his eyes, just as he did during the meeting. When he abstained from the vote and didn’t say a word to back her.

“If it was your country being attacked,” Miryam says, each word sharper than the last, “Drakon wouldn’t hesitate to send help.”

“I know.” Zeku’s voice is heavy with regret, but he shakes his head. “But there is a reason why it’s Drakon’s country getting invaded and not mine, isn’t there?”

Miryam stares back at him, not quite believing what she hears. “You coward,” she says softly.

Zeku doesn’t reply. Miryam shakes her head at him.

“I hope this haunts you,” she says. “I hope you live a long life, and I hope that you will think back on this every day and know that you are a pathetic coward who doesn’t have the spine to stand up for what is right.”

Now, Zeku finally does look at her. Miryam wishes she could take comfort in the shock and pain that is written plainly over his face, but it doesn’t make her feel better at all. Without giving him a chance to reply, she shoulders past him and goes to talk to Drakon.

----

“I hate having to say this,” Sinna says, “but we might need to consider following the council’s decision.”

Her, Miryam and Drakon are sitting together in Drakon’s private study where Miryam just spent the last twenty minutes recounting what went down in the council meeting. Drakon feels like by all accounts, it should have been him telling Sinna, but he didn’t manage to get the words out, so he just ended up sitting curled up in his armchair while Miryam told Sinna what happened.

Sinna took the news surprisingly calmly, but maybe that’s her military training showing. Drakon wishes he was as calm, but he just can’t stop the panic twisting his stomach, can’t control it enough to be able to focus on anything else. He looks around the room they are sitting in and imagines it destroyed, looks out of the window at the city below and can almost see flames licking over buildings, destroying everything in sight.

This is his home. He grew up here, there are a thousand memories tied to this place. Sitting together at dinner with his parents, his sister chasing him through the ballroom, both of them laughing. He is at home here. How can they demand he just give it up?

“But we can’t,” he says, feeling vaguely childish. He jumps to his feet, unable to remain sitting, and leans against the window. “We can’t just give up Erithia.”

He looks over at Miryam, hoping for some support, but she is staring down at her feet.

“We have soldiers of our own,” he says, turning back to Sinna. “And we know the terrain. We should be able to hold the borders.”

Sinna studies the map they’ve placed on the table. “Of course,” she says. “But you have to understand, Drakon, that while we could probably avoid Erithia being entirely overrun, there’s no way we would be able to hold back the enemy. Our borders would fall for sure.”

If they had the council’s backing, none of this would even be a problem. Drakon doesn’t understand why they are doing this. Well, he does understand that this strategy will save lives, but there were other occasions for similar strategies in the past and the council never took them. Why are they doing it now?

“And if we were to fight, how many…” Drakon hesitates for a moment before continuing. “How many would die?”

“It’s hard to estimate,” Sinna says. “A large part of it depends on how the battles go. How much of the country we manage to evacuate before the enemy troops arrive and what the enemy does to the people we haven’t been able to get out in time. Thousands for sure. Tens of thousands, maybe.”

Drakon curses softly. So it’s the choice between Erithia’s land and its people. He can either give up his country, allow it to be pillaged and destroyed, or he can put his people in danger, knowing that many of them would die.

The decision should be easy. He should follow the Alliance’s directive, order an evacuation. They’ll be able to rebuild houses and replant fields, but they can’t resurrect the dead.

But what if the people might want to stay? It’s possible, isn’t it? That they might choose to stay and fight for their homes instead of abandoning them. He would certainly be ready to risk his life if it meant he might save his country, but he can’t expect others to do the same. Certainly can’t ask it of them.

He presses his hands against his face. He can’t decide this. How can he decide this?

“And if we were to evacuate?” he asks.

“We’d retreat towards the Erythrian Sea. That way, we’d be protected by the mountains.” Sinna nods towards the mountain chain that runs through Erithia, parallel to the coast. “The passes would be easy to defend, casualties would be low.”

Drakon nods. He starts drumming around on his leg, trying desperately to calm himself. He looks to Miryam and then away again – he can’t turn to her for this choice. She already begged for Shey’s help in his place, he can’t ask her to take up this responsibility as well.

“Whatever you choose to do,” Sinna adds, “I’m afraid you’ll need to decide today.”

Drakon nods. It is getting difficult to breathe, and he pushes the window open. A cool winds blows in, carrying with it the smell of the forest behind the city. At least the forest would surely remain. Unless Ravenia decides to have it torched. He certainly wouldn’t put it past her.

He desperately wants to cry, but the tears won’t come. He leans his head against the window frame and stares down at the city below.

He can’t make that choice for his people, he doesn’t have the right. But maybe… maybe there’s at least a way for him to let them have part at the decision, in whatever way is possible.

Slowly, he turns back to Miryam and Sinna. “I’ll have a meeting with my ruling council,” he says. “Tell them about the situation, hear their voices. I think… I think it would be right for them to be the ones to decide.”

He doesn’t know if this is a brave choice to make, or a cowardly one. Letting the only representants of the people he knows choose seems like the right thing to do, better than him making a choice alone and forcing everyone else to bear the consequences. Or is this just him hiding behind other people, relying on them to make the difficult choices?

Sinna doesn’t comment on it. She merely nods. “I’ll call a meeting. In an hour, I think.”

The moment Drakon nods, she is out of the room. He doesn’t even get the chance to offer that he can deal with the preparations for the meeting. But maybe this is Sinna’s way of dealing with what happened – to keep herself busy with something, anything, to keep the despair at bay.

“I’m sorry,” Miryam says into the silence that had followed in Sinna’s wake, making Drakon turn around to her. He voice is small, unsteady. “This is my fault.”

Drakon walks over to where she is sitting and crouches down before her. He tries to reach for her hands, but she pulls them away, shaking her head.

“You did everything you could,” he says gently. Surprisingly, comforting Miryam makes him feel better, too. It gives him something to do, a manageable problem to take care of. “It’s not your fault Shey wouldn’t listen.”

Miryam shakes her head. She doesn’t even look him in the eye. “No,” she whispers. “You don’t understand. They are doing it because of me. They are scared of me and so they…” She shakes her head. “I think they are trying to make sure I won’t have an army at my disposal once the war is over. That we will be too busy with rebuilding to even be able to consider a war.”

Drakon doesn’t manage a reply, all he can do is stare in disbelief. Even with his limited understanding of Continental politics, Drakon had considered that option – considered and quickly discarded it. Formal alliances are sacred on the Continent. You don’t get to betray your allies without formally ending the alliance first, and while this probably doesn’t quite count as betrayal, he still assumed…

He can’t believe that the other Fae are putting his country, his people, in danger over a stupid power game. If the Alliance had made this choice in an attempt to end the war as quickly as possible, to save lives and avoid needless suffering, he might have been able to bear it. But this… This is unbearable, if only because it is so unnecessary.

“I made a mistake,” Miryam says. “I should have known this could happen, I should have considered it.” She shakes her head. “I didn’t think. When I suggested we marry, I didn’t think of this possibility. This is my fault.”

Drakon withdraws his hand. “Your fault?” He asks.

Miryam fidgets on her seat but nods. “I’m sorry.”

“So when we married, I had no voice in the matter?” Drakon asks. He knows this was not what she meant to say, but it was certainly the implication, and being annoyed with her over this is stupid, he knows it is, but he can’t help it.

“Of course you did, but…” She shrugs helplessly. “This is my area of expertise.”

“And knowing that, I could not have conferred with my advisors on this?” Drakon presses. “Because if it is your fault alone, it must also mean that the choice was yours alone, and until now, I had assumed we made that choice together.”

Miryam flinches slightly. “I’m sorry,” she says. “That’s not what I meant.”

Drakon sighs. His anger evaporates, leaving him feeling even worse than before. “I know,” he says. “I’m sorry, too. I know you were trying to be kind, I just…” He shrugs.

He doesn’t even know why it made him angry. It should have been easier to pretend this disaster wasn’t partially a consequence of his actions, to place the blame on someone else. He should have jumped at the opportunity. But there are already too many people who act like he is incapable of making decisions, and it stings even worse when Miryam does it, even if it’s with good intentions.

He is about to tell Miryam as much to get the issue out of the way before it actually turns into a problem, but then, he realizes how stupid it is to discuss stuff like this when his country might be on the brink of destruction. He buries his face in his hands.

“It was a good idea to leave the decision to the council,” Miryam says, startling him into looking up. “I think it is the right thing to do.”

“I don’t know what I want them to decide,” Drakon whispers. “I don’t want to put my people in danger, but I also don’t want us to lose our home.”

“I understand,” Miryam says, then winces. “I mean, not really, of course, I’m not trying to pretend my situation is in any way similar to yours, but…” She shrugs. “I’m sure they will make the right choice.”

Drakon certainly hopes so.

----

Amarantha is pacing in the courtyard. Back and forth, back and forth. Jurian’s vision is rocking with each movement. If he had a stomach, he would surely be sick by now, but as it is, he doesn’t even feel dizzy. He doesn’t feel anything at all.

It has been months. Eighty-nine days, to be exact. Jurian counts them, and with each new sunrise, his hope of rescue flickers and dies bit by bit. Miryam hasn’t come. She hasn’t come and with each day, Jurian finds it harder and harder to think of a reason. In the beginning, he thought she might be still be injured, but an injury likely wouldn’t have kept her out of the field this long. He can think of no reason, none at all, for why she wouldn’t have come yet, or at the very least asked someone else to go in her stead. Knowing her, nothing would have been able to keep her from helping him. And yet she hasn’t come.

Amarantha says that it’s because she doesn’t care. That she is likely glad about what happened to him, that she has already forgotten him and is happy with Drakon. Jurian doesn’t want to believe it, and yet with every day, it becomes harder.

No one is coming for him. Not one of his friends, of the people he fought with, the people he loved, seems to care enough about him to try and rescue him from this nightmare.

Amarantha pauses her pacing so abruptly that Jurian’s eye starts spinning wildly and it takes him a few moments to get control of it again. By the time he does, Amarantha has lifted the hand with the ring – with his eye – up to her face so that he is forced to look at her face. He wishes he could look away, could at least close his eyes, but he is forced to look right back at her.

“I assume you heard, my dear Jurian, that my failure of a king is considering surrender.”

Jurian does the only thing he can do in the situation he’s in: He rolls his eye and hopes that Amarantha will understand the gesture as the insult it’s meant to be.

News that the king of Hybern was considering surrender to the Alliance arrived in the morning, and the temper tantrum Amarantha threw when she heard lasted almost half an hour. Jurian dared to hope for rescue for almost twenty minutes longer than that, right until she spun around to him to snap that should it come to a surrender, she would dump his eye into the middle of an ocean before she handed him over to the Alliance.

The bottom of the ocean, Jurian thinks, might be preferable to being a ring at Amarantha’s finger.

Amarantha goes back to her pacing, this time with Jurian’s eye raised high enough for her to look at while she walks. It also gives him clear view of the bone hanging on a chain at her neck.

“These mortal worms are already whispering of freedom,” Amarantha continues. “They imagine your faithless ex-lover will come free them, or maybe one of those mortal queens.”

Something about her tone unsettles Jurian.

“Freedom.” Amarantha spits the word. “These fools. They seem to forget that there is only one type of freedom their kind will ever be granted.”

By the time Jurian understands what she is saying, she has already turned away from him. Her eyes scan the courtyard, then, she calls one of her commanders over.

No, Jurian thinks. He is only vaguely aware that his eye has started spinning again. No. He wants to scream the world, but he can’t. Can’t move, either. He is helpless to do anything.

“I want every mortal currently in this castle assembled in this courtyard,” Amarantha says. “Every single slave, no matter who the owner.”

“Yes, general,” the commander says. “May I ask for what purpose.”

Amarantha shrugs. “How about a competition for out archers?” She asks. “Whoever manages the most hits will be my guest for dinner this evening.” With a smile, she turns to Jurian. “And you and I will watch from the battlements. We’ll want to have a good view, won’t we?”

----

Tags: @croissantcitysucks @femtopulsed

[blitzturtles]

Title: Tre

Rating: Mature, for implied adult activity (though it isn't detailed.)

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Golden Wind

Pairing(s): BruAbba

Summary: “Is… Bucciarati avoiding anyone else?” Giorno asks, quiet. Unsure. By the look on his face, it’s something that’s been bothering him for a few days.

Abbacchio looks up with raised brows, “Don’t think so, why?”

Notes: Please note that Bruno experiences quite a bit of gender dysphoria here. It's reflected in his internal dialogue and could be triggering.

Also, missing doses of T doesn't necessarily guarantee the return of someone's period, but Bruno has a whole lotta bad luck, too much stress, and not enough time.

-

“Is… Bucciarati avoiding anyone else?” Giorno asks, quiet. Unsure. By the look on his face, it’s something that’s been bothering him for a few days.

Abbacchio looks up with raised brows, “Don’t think so, why?”

Giorno frowns. How does he explain that he feels like he’s seeing more glimpses of zippers and Sticky Fingers than the man they belong to? That he feels like every time he turns a corner, Bruno is already leaving? Maybe even fleeing?

“No, no, I think Giogio’s onto something,” Mista cuts in before Giorno can answer.

Abbacchio’s neutral expression shifts to something less sure. His frown reflects Giorno’s, and he seems to lose himself in his thoughts for a moment. He recalls the last several days and tries to replay the interactions in his head.

“I’ll check it out,” he decides, finally. He pushes himself up to his feet and heads out the door before the other two can think up an argument.

“Uh?” Mista looks to Giorno, then the door, and back again.

“I don’t know,” Giorno admits. Something in Abbacchio’s features had only validated his worries.

______ ______

“Bruno,” Abbacchio calls, rapping the back of one hand against their shared bedroom door. He hates to admit it, but the kid is right. Bruno’s been quieter. A bit more aloof, but he isn’t fully avoiding Abbacchio. He knows better than that, which is exactly the problem. The bastard knows just the way to adjust his behavior to avoid suspicion.

The room remains quiet on the other side. No one moves, and the door stays shut. Abbacchio isn’t buying it for a minute.

“Bruno, I’m coming in if you don’t let me in.”

He waits approximately ten more seconds-- no one has ever accused him of being a patient man-- before he digs out his key. The only reason he has it on him at all is because of Bruno’s borderline refusal to use doors. There’s been a time or two where Abbacchio has been locked out because Bruno used his zippers and forgot to flip the lock. It’s not a frequent occurrence, but it’s happened enough to make Abbacchio more diligent about having his copy on his person.

His chest aches with the burning need of oxygen, reminding him to take a breath. He has a vague idea of what might be happening, but he can’t be sure. Can’t know that Bruno isn’t half-dead somewhere beyond the threshold.

One blue eye pops out of a pile of blankets and disappears just as quickly. There’s a quiet groan and possibly a few words, but none of it is audible to Abbacchio.

“Cramps?”

The blankets shift like someone might have whacked them.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” Abbacchio says with an undeniably fond tone. He doesn’t take offense to the attempt to shoo him off, but he does feel guilt for not recognizing the signs earlier. To his own credit, it’s been many months, possibly more than a year since last this happened. He’s gotten out of the habit of identifying the warnings. Bruno is a lot like a wounded animal. Unless it’s killing him, he won’t make his pain known (and even that’s up in the air, sometimes. It’s the blood trail that gives him away more often in those cases.)

He bypasses the mass on the bed to slide into the bathroom. He notes the painkillers on the counter and finds some relief in the fact that Bruno at least has those on board. Absently, he brushes his thumb against Bruno’s toothbrush and winces at the dampness of it. That’s one of those things he’s learned from being with Bruno for so long: when his cramps are particularly awful, his stomach crawls its way up his throat. Sometimes more than once, but Bruno being in bed is hopefully a sign that he’s finished with that for now.

With the painkillers taken and his stomach emptied, there’s only one thing that Abbacchio can offer. He crouches down in front of the sink and starts digging through their unholy collection of toiletries and makeup. A not insignificant amount of it is Abbacchio’s, but he finds a crushed box in the back after several frustrating minutes of digging and rearranging.

There’s one left, but it will do. He can bribe the kids to go get him more. Something tells him the reusable is missing in action. Probably tossed after one too many times of someone bleeding on it.

Bruno hasn’t moved since Abbacchio’s break in, and he doesn’t look like he intends to move when Abbacchio makes his way to the bed.

“C’mon. Stretch out for a second,” he holds up the packaging for Bruno to see and gives one of his rare, soft smiles when Bruno unhooks his arms from around himself and uncurls his body.

Abbacchio carefully peels the blankets away to find that Bruno has stolen one of his night shirts and a pair of his shorts.

“Sorry,” Bruno breathes.

The pain in his voice is heartbreaking, and the fact that Bruno thinks Abbacchio gives two shits about a pair of lost shorts (to blood of all things, as if they haven’t both bled on every other thing they’ve ever owned) only makes the ache worse.

“I really can’t emphasize enough how much I don’t care,” Abbacchio says and immediately wishes he had thought his words out, “About the shorts.” He sees the way Bruno tenses for a moment before he relaxes again. He’s on edge. Less sure of himself than he usually is, which means he’s second guessing everything. Even definite truths. And one of those is that Abbacchio would give him anything he asked for without question. A singular set of clothes-- that he knows Bruno will probably replace without his noticing-- mean nothing to him.

“I know,” Bruno admits. His fingers dance at the hem of the shirt. He’s buying time.

Abbacchio doesn’t push him. He waits patiently until Bruno slides the shirt up his belly enough for Abbacchio to place the heating pad. He’s mindful of the dark patch of hair that peeks out from above the shorts. Bruno usually prefers them to be placed higher up anyway, and his belly is relatively hairless.

“There. That’s the last of the peel and sticks, but we can get more,” he reaches to tug the shirt back down but hesitates a moment to press a kiss to Bruno’s hip. He knows that Bruno feels the most dysphoric when he’s bleeding. Sees himself in a way that Abbacchio doesn’t. Being in agony doesn’t exactly help his mental state any.

“I don’t want to be trouble.”

Abbacchio snorts-- if only because the idea of that is so preposterous. “If they knew it was for you, they’d kill each other to get to the store first,” they won’t know. He won’t tell them. They might guess that it’s Bruno that’s out of commission, given his absence, but Bruno isn’t full-time anymore. It’s easy to dismiss his lack of presence as his attention being elsewhere, but Giorno’s made it apparent that he’s noticed. Mista, too.

Bruno might have gotten away with it if he weren’t feeling so poorly. The pain clouds his mind and disrupts the smooth way that he and Sticky Fingers work together. It’s probably why Giorno kept catching glimpses. It’s all Bruno can do to stay upright when the cramps kick in at full swing.

Speaking of, Abbacchio reaches up to gently wipe the tears away from Bruno’s cheeks.

“You can roll back. I’m going to change, but I’m not going anywhere.”

Truthfully, he isn’t changing for his own comfort. Abbacchio has fallen asleep fully dressed more times than he can count, buckle included. He could care less about what he’s wearing, but he knows that Bruno’s nerves are already frayed.

In the time it takes him to switch to his softest night clothes, Bruno has curled back up, facing away from him. Abbacchio takes a moment to shoot off a text before he climbs in behind him. He carefully scoots his body as close to Bruno’s as he can without putting any pressure against him. Bruno uncurls enough to lean a fraction of his weight back into him, and Abbacchio counts that as a win.

Abbacchio reaches up to undo the clips in Bruno’s hair. The braid needs to come out, too, but he doesn’t have the angle he needs to work on it. He settles for petting along Bruno’s arm, a slow drag of his calloused fingers from wrist to shoulder. His nails drag lightly against tanned skin. It’s all about distracting without being overwhelming.

“I missed three,” Bruno says eventually.

“Three? Oh,” well, that explains it. Bruno’s had problems with his cycle coming through in the past. It’s the reason he switched to shots in the first place, and he’s suspected his dose has been too low for a while. The problem is that his own health and wellbeing always comes last. He doesn’t pursue the doctors the way he could; he’s always too busy taking care of everyone else at his own detriment. Sometimes Abbacchio thinks Bruno does it as self-flagellation, but he feels like a hypocrite if he points it out.

The dysphoria creates something of a feedback loop. It’s the one aspect of himself that Bruno struggles with the most. He can typically climb his way out of his cycles of grief. The flashbacks are generally ignored. It’s amazing, Abbacchio thinks, that he ever sleeps at all. There’s enough trauma and stress there to last several people their entire lives. Bruno ignores it all, but he can’t ignore this.

Abbacchio carefully drapes his arm around Bruno and presses his face against the back of his neck. “I love you,” he says, the words pressed against Bruno’s nape.

There’s a wounded sound from Bruno, and he curls up tighter.

Abbacchio moves with him. Careful, but without hesitation. “I love you no matter what, in any way that you’ll have me. I will follow you to the end, and I will give you all that I have.” He can’t refute the words playing in Bruno’s head, but he can make sure he knows that he’s loved. “None of us would have made it without you.”

“That’s not-”

“Shut up,” Abbacchio’s tone is far from harsh, but Bruno does as he’s told, “Fugo might have stayed out of legal trouble, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be dead from pissing off the wrong person. Narancia would have died of an infection. You said it yourself, Narancia was on death’s door when Fugo brought him to you. Mista wouldn’t have survived jail,” another one of Bruno’s assessments that was exactly on point, “Giorno would have probably gotten himself killed trying to take out the boss by himself, and Trish would be dead if you hadn’t killed yourself to save her.” Being revived after doesn’t change the fact that Bruno had died in the first place, “And I would be passed out drunk. Maybe dead.”

Silence settles over them for a long few minutes. Bruno only occasionally tensing and squirming from pain. The over-the-counter stuff barely touches the cramps, but he won’t take anything else. At least the heating pads seem to help some.

“Thank you,” Bruno says eventually.

“Sure,” Abbacchio presses a kiss to soft skin, “I’m always available to grind the truth into that thick skull of your’s.”

Bruno huffs in response, but his hands find Abbacchio’s arm. He curls his fingers around pale skin and finds himself admiring the muscle underneath. Neither of them are particularly built, but Abbacchio has the thicker, wider frame that Bruno had longed for for so many years. It’s odd to remember when they first met, when Abbacchio had a bit more muscle. Bruno’s own body had been a hated thing. Something he used to wish he could shed with curves he could see if he looked for them.

Sometimes he wonders which of their memories are distorted. Abbacchio’s, from the alcohol and the depression and not actually knowing better. Or Bruno’s, from the self-hatred and the dysphoria and the abuse inflicted on him.

He can still remember the first time they managed to lock themselves in the bathroom, all hands and teeth, and Leone-- god help him-- had been surprised.

It had been the first time they made it past making out like teenagers, and Leone had stared up at him from his spot on his knees with big, gold-violet eyes. Confused and at an obvious loss. Bruno can still remember the way his stomach turned as reality kicked in, and he had realized the significant misstep on his part. He had thought, with his waist and the scars on his chest and the width of his shoulders, that it had been obvious. Had thought himself lucky that Leone still wanted him.

”Tell me what to do,” Leone had demanded, all determination and enthusiasm.

Bruno almost laughs at the memory. It’s not funny, really, but he can remember the overwhelming endearment he had felt. Still feels. That’s the thing that Leone can’t accept. Can’t understand about himself: all that he does for Bruno. All the ways he makes Bruno a better man. He can’t imagine doing this on his own. He’ll have to find a way to better show his appreciation when his insides aren’t threatening to tear him apart.

“I love you,” he says, squeezing Leone’s arm.

“I love you, too.”

[rickriordanfandam]

opinions on riordanverse ; my edition

a lot of people have been doing this so i decided why not right. probably gna lose some followers or smth but anyways. pls respect my opinions! if u disagree, thats fine, but please be polite. unless any of my opinions strikes u as morally wrong then pls point it out to me respectfully. thanks!

- i actually liked drew. im so sorry to everyone who hates her but full offence, why. think about it this way ok, first of all drew became hc because silena died. silena was the traitor, the one who betrayed chb, yet after she died campers celebrated her as a hero? and then drew suddenly has to replace her and live up to idk that legacy she left behind,, when all of a sudden this girl named piper swoops in and takes her place. idk abt u but i wld be salty abt that too. not only that, but as an asian, the chances of drew having faced racism/bullying as a child is pretty high (she studies at brooklyn academy). which means that when she finds out shes a demigod, and arrives at chb where most of the campers are white (this is an assumption btw), she’d obviously be scared of being bullied for her skin color right?? so the first thing she wld do before the campers get to bully her is to bully them before they can do so. (sentence structure here is wack i apologize) ofc this might not even have happened, drew could have had a perfect childhood && was a b1tch for no reason, BUT EVEN THEN HER ROLE AS A BULLY WAS PRETTY VITAL BECAUSE THAT FURTHER SHOWED THE CONTRAST BETWEEN HER AND PIPER,, HIGHLIGHTING PIPER AS A HERO//GOOD CHARACTER,, AND THEREFORE MAKING READERS LIKE PIPER MORE. anyway stop hating on drew please. ALSO WHY IS THIS SO LONGA SDFJHG

- jason isnt bland, the fandom just kinda erased his backstory (thanks to @pjohoo-memes for the phrasing lol)

- reynabeth wouldnt have lasted/would have broken up several times. idk i just see them as two extremely powerful characters who have firm opinions and will definitely clash at some point. in a platonic relationship,, i can see them as really good friends but as lovers? idk i just think theyll break up

- PIPABETH

- i dont really like jercy,, i see them as better friends than lovers. also idt jason and percy were that close..?

- the dam and not my type jokes are srsly cringey and were never funny. ik that seems hypocritical since my username literally makes use of the dam joke but honestly i dont actually like the joke. its not funny to me and has never been funny

- the seven were not best friends. they definitely argued,, and honestly probably werent as close as the fandom makes them seem. like ure dumped with 6 other people, out of which u only know a few. my introverted ass would have jumped off the argo 2 quicker than leo valdez could bomb camp jupiter up. also leo was a dick to frank. so what if frank is bigger sized?? thats not a valid reason to tease him

- the fandom needs to stop hating on octavian while worshipping luke. if u hate luke and u say u hate octavian too, then okay. but if u tell me ure a luke stan but u despise octavian?? imma disagree w u. luke was worse than octavian im sorry. first of all, octavian being a dick was kinda justified. hes been after the praetor position for so long, and everyone keeps saying to “wait for jason” when suddenly this dude, whos a son of NEPTUNE (neptune wasnt liked much by romans), and the camp decides to make him praetor?? dude i would be pissed off big time. and then afterwards, he finds out that greek demigods are real and the dude they made praetor is greek. AND THEN GREEK DEMIGODS COME TO CJ AND ONE OF THEM BOMB IT UP?? octavian has been told all his life that greeks are scum and this dude called leo valdez attacks cj. sure it was an accident, but did octavian know that? no. so it was honestly justified that he was such a salty prick im just saying. also some of yall be hating on octavian for cutting a teddy bear open and thats the funniest shit ive ever heard i swear 

- luke didnt go to elysium

- travis and connor stoll r way too underrated. the two have been head counselors of the hermes cabin since luke was revealed as a traitor, can u imagine the stress? luke, the person they probably looked up to as a brother, betrayed them. and they didnt even have time to process this when they were  thrown the roles of being hcs. that would have been so stressful and i would probably have broken down if i were them. the stoll brothers taking turns to wake up at ungodly hours because a new camper is crying and homesick and terrified, the stoll brothers having to comfort and take care of new campers, having to deal with the amount of people in that cramped space because not enough campers are being claimed fast enough. having to resolve issues between campers in the hermes cabin all the time. the stolls arent just comedic relief, and we need to stop treating them as such

- tratie shldve been canon idc idc

- demigods of the demeter cabin arent talked about enough and i love the fact that meg was demeters kid. like she isnt the child of one of the big three yet shes so powerful.

- we need to hype clarisse up more her character arc was phucking amazing 

- rachel is overhated. sis found out greek gods exist and regularly come down to earth to fuck around and went “ok cool”. queen shit behavior methinks

- the floor 19 crew of mcga is srsly underrated. like do u even remember halfborn gunderson, mallory keen, tj, etc??? bc i feel like we only remember samirah, magnus, alex, and sometimes blitz and hearthstone

- sadie (tkc) was kinda annoying at first. i like her more now tho but i rmb not liking her for a phat while

- tkc and mcga need more love

- carter kane and jason grace arent boring. theyre just really sweet boys who are too good for this world and yes yes yes 

- hazel and frank (especially frank) need to be hyped up more. i hardly ever see anything about them. also yall seem to forget that frank was literally made praetor and that even hecate admired hazel and was willing to fight beside her because of how powerful she was

- frazels age gap is kinda sketch but i still think theyre really cute

- nico definitely had trauma from going to tartarus on his own

- GROVER IS PERCYS BEST FRIEND

- annabeth isnt smarter than leo but neither is leo smarter than annabeth. ive seen a lot of discussions about who is smarter and heres my hot take on it: neither. theyre equally smart, just in different ways. leos a genius mathematically speaking. he has no issues solving math problems meant for people much, much older than him. annabeth on the otherhand, is great at strategies etc. she can make an army of 1000 more powerful than the enemy, even if theyre outnumbered. so in my opinion, both are equally as smart//u cant compare their intelligence, because their talents lie in two different areas.

- while i do agree rick riordan isnt a god and that hes bound to make mistakes,, AND that hes given us a lot of representation,, if the representation offends the people its sposed to represent, then theres a problem. im talking about piper as a poc and wearing feathers in her hair. im not a poc, so i cant speak for them on whether or not its wrong, because i dont know either. HOWEVER, i have seen multiple posts BY pocs talking about how they didnt really like rick’s representation of piper, and thats an issue. pocs have been and are still oppressed and discriminated against by many. as a white cis man, we cant really blame him for not knowing (tho he could have done a research,, asked some pocs,, idk), but by representing pocs in that manner, hes influencing impressionable kids/teens into thinking “oh pocs wear feathers in their hair all the time” etc, which isnt true. the pjo/hoo series is extremely successful, and kids who read the books will probably start forming inaccurate opinions on pocs. the amount of fan art that depicts piper with feathers in her hair dont help either. “but rick said so in the books, so its canon” yeah well rick isnt a god and he can get some things wrong at times. im not saying we should cancel him, im saying we should start educating ourselves and not spread false info like pocs wearing feathers in their hair all the time. also that snake song shit where she sang Summertime was just- yeah. bc heres the thing you can be racist, and still include minorities, but portray them in a racist way. And even then, ignorance isn't a thing to admire. Getting those facts wrong still has a major impact. It continues to perpetuate racist stereotypes.

“ With the feather thing, I looked it up myself; it takes less than five minutes to figure out that Cherokees don't braid feathers into their hair. I didn't grow up in the country where my parents are from. I have many other first/second generation American friends who have also been through that, with a bit of a disconnect from their culture. But something that most of us have in common is that when we didn't know something, and when our parents weren't that big of a help, we looked it up. We sought out resources online and through other people from our culture to be able to connect more with where we came from. Some of that took a Google search. So I find it hard to believe that Piper, a girl who Rick's trying to portray as someone who is attempting to connect with her culture and is totally against racist stereotypes, wouldn't know that eagle feathers aren't supposed to be braided into your hair casually. She may be disconnected from her culture, but she's also shown to want to connect back to it. Piper wouldn't be casually braiding feathers into her hair while also telling off people for being racist. It makes no sense.” - reddit thread (down below) 

for those of yall who wanna know more please please read this, it has a lot of things i wanna add in here : https://www.reddit.com/r/camphalfblood/comments/gy3gl2/piper_mcleans_portrayal_is_innacurate/ 

as well as https://finding-my-culture.tumblr.com/post/189422373260/maxie-ratties-and-cattie-finding-my-culture 

i will be posting screenshots of these in future posts so if ure viewing this on ig and u dont have tumblr,, dont worry 

- the fact that most of the strong female characters in the series refuse to be “girly”, and ngl i dont really like that. just because ure girly doesnt mean u cant be strong. 

- piper would have been a great way for him to start making the strong characters act girlier, but instead he went with the “I’m not like other girls” trope which is quite obnoxious to hear constantly, and I don’t think it’s necessarily great for younger girls to read that idea growing up.  the closest we've ever had to a strong female character who was also into "girly" things was Silena. when I was younger I admired Piper's "I'm not like other girls" thing, but then I got older and realized that the whole mentality of "not like other girls" is super obnoxious, and a little bit toxic

i have a heck load more that i cant rmb rn but yeah feel free to add more 

[brave-clarice]

“Clarice” Liveblog: Episode 2

Again, some extremely unfashionably late hot takes.

(Special thanks to @kathrynethegreat and @special-agent-pendragon​ for encouraging another liveblog!)

Clarice is working out! And eating junk food! I love it.

and cleaning her gun!

hey, Ardelia is drinking what I’m going to assume is her grandmother’s “smart people tea”.

Krendler disciplining Clarice already is infuriating but appropriate.

“I lost control.” Oh no, I don’t like that. Don’t make Clarice unstable. Her mental and emotional state never had anything to do with her failing career.

getting weird mixed signals from Ardelia. Last week, she obviously didn’t want Clarice to lie/stick to the script Krendler gave her, but now she’s telling Clarice she messed up by not doing so...?

“I better know you if you’re calling this early.” Amen, Ardelia.

I’m in love: this cinematography is straight out of the film (when she’s flying to WV with Crawford)!

“When’s the last time you went back to Appalachia?” “It’s been years.” What??? It has NOT been years--Clarice was JUST in West Virginia last week as well as in Silence, and she arguably attended college there as well. (UVA is at least nestled in the mountains, and you don’t have to drive far outside the Albemarle Valley to hit Appalachia proper.) After all the details about her character they’ve been nailing, they miss this glaring error? 

I like the tiny details she’s noticing (like the guy biting his nails). Not only because she’s an investigator, but because it’s reminiscent of Hannibal’s influence (imo).

Clarice Is Short: The Saga continues

still not getting any creepy vibes off Krendler. He’s going to be much less effective as an antagonist if he isn’t lewd as well as a dick.

I really don’t care for the way the opening “credits” fade out from the death’s-head moth to Clarice’s face. There are MANY animals that represent her, or parts of her, in the books--lions, lambs, horses, and of course birds--so this choice feels empty and lazy to me.

also lazy: having a fellow agent straight-up tell her in episode 2 “you shouldn’t be in the Bureau.” Maybe in two or three years, after some further “Death Angel”-type incidents, I could see this blatant rudeness, but not yet.

“Reesey”? Thanks, I hate it.

this flashback must be of Clarice’s little brother. That answers one question I had last week. That said...Clarice’s brother doesn’t play the same role in her story that Mischa does in Hannibal’s--but this sure feels like a Mischa-esque flashback.

good: they’re finally getting to the source of Clarice’s actual trauma!

bad: this is NOT how Clarice found out about her father. In fact, that whole incident is laid out in detail in the novels, and there’s nothing overly literary/un-cinematic about it, so this feels unnecessary. “The police are here! Something happened to Daddy!” No, bad! Show, don’t tell!

she would’ve known better than to introduce herself to that kid as “Clarice Starling, FBI,” come on now.

were they regularly able to wire tap hair clips in 1993? 

actually, nothing in this show looks very 90s to me so far. I’m sad about it.

so in eighteen months, Ruth Martin has gone from a junior Senator to the Attorney freakin’ General, and now she might run for governor?? At least let her get settled in one position of power first, why don’t you!

yet more Buffalo Bill flashbacks...alas.

are they trying to make this guy another surrogate Hannibal character? He’s commenting on Clarice’s accent and the dryness of her skin, asking about who she “left behind”...it all feels very Hannibal. (I know he’s a Charismatic Cult Leader trope, too--but when played off of Clarice...)

“Ew.” “I hate this guy.” I laughed.

I understand that Clarice probably feels conflicted re: her siblings in the book, but I’m really not digging the flashbacks of this Tim Burton character her brother.

@ the writers: Clarice already has the lamb backstory/symbolism, too. We don’t need this Little Brother stuff.

*shrieking* Mrs. Starling! At the sink washing the blood out of his hat!!! 

...aaand they had to ruin it with the brother’s painfully bad dialogue. Will still be good for gif-making, though.

are we supposed to interpret all these flashbacks as Clarice being incapable of controlling her emotions/state of mind? She keeps losing herself in memories and emerging all doe-eyed and panicky. I don’t like it.

not to be a broken record but...Clarice should be TOUGH. Again, Ardelia only saw her cry once in seven years. But she’s more worked up in this scene than Jodie was in Memphis!

when Mr. Cult Leader shouts “Agent Starling! Agent Starling!” he sounds exactly like Hannibal calling her back to his cell in the asylum. That has to be intentional. 

damn, wish that I could look as good five minutes after I’ve been crying as Clarice does.

I LOVE that Ardelia gets to be the crucial behind-the-scenes book-smart partner to Clarice’s action heroine.

AG Martin’s just playing politics by turning a blind eye to the crooked sheriff. But when her own daughter was just kidnapped and almost killed, she looks like a real hypocrite.

gosh, Rebecca Breeds is great. I already hope she gets nominated for an Emmy.

so Krendler is...doing the right thing???

Clarice’s father was definitely not a sheriff. I hope she’s just exaggerating for dramatic effect. (Maybe this will be clarified later.)

she couldn’t just sit with a manipulative guy without getting emotional, but she’s cool as a cucumber while telling an extended story about her father? HmmMM.

sometimes her mannerisms and facial expressions are so much like Jodie’s that it’s uncanny, like here when she leans forward to confront the Cult Leader.

“She did it.” Damn straight!

another great callback to Silence. this show’s camera crew knows its stuff!

“He’s concerned I have some residual trauma from Bill.” I. Hate. This. Subplot--and all its OOC implications.

“Catherine was close to her father, too.” Ooh, a nice allusion to the novel! Clarice makes note of their “common wound,” the loss of a father, when she’s in Catherine’s apartment in Silence.

she is just SO pretty.

little Clarice looks a LOT like Rebecca Breeds. I hope we see some more of her. 

The Good:

the continuing visual nods to the Silence film via cinematography

Mama Starling!!!

Clarice’s “The World Will Not Be This Way Within the Reach of my Arm” attitude, refusing to leave without helping the victims.

Ardelia Mapp coming in clutch! 

Clarice being, generally, a badass

and using psychological tricks/mind games to pin the antagonist...that’s the woman who disarmed a monster with just a few words.

Rebecca Breed’s acting has been phenomenal so far.

I like Clarice’s haircut a lot better when worn down (though it’s not very practical for fieldwork, so we probably won’t see it much).

The Bad:

the continuing Buffalo Bill-related Trauma Subplot. Ugh.

all the flashbacks to Clarice’s brother (and the not-so-subtle suggestion that her brother is, symbolically, another lamb).

will the real Paul Krendler please come forward? this guy is so TAME.

the other agents’ hostility towards Clarice needs to be toned down slightly so that it can escalate. Otherwise, where’s the tension?

is this actually 1993? I’m not feeling it. Shouldn’t it have a little of that Season 1/2 X-Files aesthetic? Please give me more than once-an-episode references to pagers and fax machines!

that glaring Appalachia continuity error...it’s still bugging me.

I missed the overt Hannibal references, even though they’re not necessary to any part of this episode. A lady can dream!

Overall, I really liked this one despite my various issues with it. It started shakily but built to a great finish. The emphasis across both episodes on Clarice being in the FBI not just to “get out, get anywhere,” but out of a genuine desire to help victims has been wonderful. I just hope they don’t swerve too far into the “too traumatized and emotionally compromised to function” lane. It would be a disservice to Clarice’s character and to her journey (and would smack too much of “Hannibal really did prey on her weak mind/brainwash her”.

Things I’d still like to see: More of her personality. Her hobbies and interests. That she’s cleaning her gun is great! Now let’s see “Poison Oakley” practicing her sharpshooting skills. Or car shopping. Or clothes shopping to show off her “developing taste.” (Ardelia can come!) I’ll take literally anything. Give us more of Clarice’s sense of humor as well. She had some subtle funny moments in the pilot, and it’s nice to see Rebecca smile for a change.

And Krendler? Smear that man in grease! I appreciated a happy ending even though Clarice’s career is, as we know, already in a downward spiral--the last thing we want is for every episode to be a slog, especially when a good chunk of the audience hasn’t read the book and doesn’t know Clarice is doomed to fail in the Bureau.

However... Krendler’s not a “redemption arc” kind of character. Or even a “run-of-the-mill sexist asshole” character. This is a man who spent seven years systematically sabotaging a young woman’s career because a) he was jealous that she solved the Gumb case before him, and b) she wouldn’t fuck him. He was a Justice Department official working fist-in-glove with a serial child molester who was planning some of the heinous vigilante justice imaginable. THAT’S why his very gruesome end at Hannibal’s hands felt deserved--even Clarice thought so! In short, he needs to get nasty.

Anyway, thanks for coming to another long-overdue TedTalk. Fingers crossed that the next one will be more timely (aiming for Sunday night)! 

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Angel Guzman

(My crap gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You meet Angel in Mr. Escalantes class. But you knew of him before then, let’s just say he had a reputation around the school. Before your class together you thought Angel was just another gangbanger. He got into fights, he acted tough, hung around the boys who started trouble; what else were you supposed to think.

- You weren’t particularly excited when he walked into your math class; very late might you add, with his buddy. You also werent excited when he arrived the next day and was sat a seat behind you in the row next to yours.

- Things get better when his friends stop showing up to class. You see a different side of him and one that you like much better.

- Angel’s had a crush on you for a while but never had an excuse to talk to you or the time to approach you without his friends catching him. He’s pleasantly surprised when he sees you in class on your first day.

- A big part of his uncomfortableness with Escalante teasing him is because of you. He doesn’t want to be made a fool of in front of you; or anyone in the class for that matter.

- One day you laugh at one of his smartass comments, the next day he asks you for a piece of paper, and before you know it the two of you occasionally speak to each other.

- He would definitely loiter around the hallways, standing behind a corner he knows you pass and waiting there until he sees you. He’d quickly put out his cigarette before catching up to you and starting a short conversation.

- After you’re on somewhat friendly terms he’d make sure to get to Escalante’s class early so that he could be there before you. When you arrive he’d open the door for you and try to speak with you a little before class.

- Mr. Escalante takes note of his behavior and gives him looks whenever he sees him trying to get closer to you. Before Angel actually asks you out I can see him approaching Escalante with “hypothetical” questions about girls/dating.

- Angel catches you after school one day in his usual fashion except this time he asks if you’re doing anything and if you’d like to come over to his house since his mother and grandmother are making *insert food here*.

- His family is really important to him, the town you live in isn’t exactly filled with things to do, and he doesn’t want to stumble across his friends out in public (neither do you). So honestly it’s the perfect place for him to bring you.

- He also doesn’t exactly call it a date so you go there as a “friend from school” which makes things a lot less awkward and gives you time to warm up to the older women. Even though he doesn’t say it, you know from the way he acts that it’s not just a platonic hang out.

- Things go really well, you have a great time, his family embarrasses him, and they love you as much as he does. His grandma almost pulls out his baby pictures but he’s thankfully; for him at least, able to stop her.

- As he’s walking you home from his house the two of you stop under a streetlight for a minute and he makes his move. He tilts your face up and softly kisses you.

- He continues to walk you home while the two of you struggle to stay composed. You just can’t seem to keep the smile off your face and neither can he. When he gets home himself both his mother and grandmother are waiting for him and tease him about his lovestruck face.

- Ever since then the two of you were a couple.

- He likes to act tough but he’s a big softy at heart. When you’re alone you get to see just how sweet he is.

- He’s showing you affection constantly although he keeps it on the down low when you’re in public.

- You’re almost always going to have to pluck a toothpick out of his mouth so that you can kiss him.

- Neck and jaw kisses.

- In all seriousness he can turn your legs to jelly when he kisses you. You’re thankful that he keeps you pressed close to him because you’d probably swoon and fall on your ass if he didn’t.

- Handshakes; they always end with him kissing your knuckles.

- Tracing his tattoos with your fingers while you play with his hands.

- Going to sit with him as he smokes; he always makes sure to blow away from you.

- Surprisingly enough he’s quite the gentleman, always opening doors for you or giving up his seat.

- Swearing is a form of endearment in your relationship except around his family. His mother would lose it if she heard him lovingly call you a bitch.

- Dodges when you try to touch his hair.

- There isn’t a lot of things for teenagers to do in your city, not only is there not much to do but the two of you are kind of broke so you usually just wind up hanging out somewhere like one of your houses or a park.

- He insists on paying for dates, he won’t let you spend your money on him unless it’s like his birthday.

- Hugging and cuddling him is the best because he smells sooooo good.

- You switch things up everytime you cuddle. You swear the two of you never lay/sit in the same position twice.

- Gets jealous when other guys talk to you; he doesn’t trust them. He tries to catch as much of what the guy or you say before he decides to interject (depending on the situation).

- He quietly does what you tell him to do without much of a fight, like if you ask him to get you something or ask him for a favor he doesn’t hesitate to do it or make a big deal out of it when he does.

- Speaking Spanish, if you don’t know Spanish him and his family would most likely take advantage of it; in a nice way. Like his grandmother would comment about how pretty you are to him in Spanish.

- Kind of embarrassed by his tattoos. He tries to hide them from you and even more so your parents.

- As long as it’s not Mr. Escalante’s class he doesn’t really have a problem cutting it with you.

- Helping each other study. He’s actually really smart when he puts in the effort which he often does so on the down low.

- He likes having the excuse that he’s carrying something school related of “yours” so that he doesn’t need to worry about if his friends catch him (at least when they were actually friends).

- He quietly gets your attention in class to show you how one of your classmates is sleeping or doing something equally as amusing.

- Gets attached quickly; you show him some affection/attention and he’s yours for forever. He’s not touch starved but his life has been lacking in the romance department.

- Momma’s boy; its a good thing she loves you.

- Helping him take care of his grandmother when you go over to his house after school.

- Since he takes care of his mother and grandmother you can rest assured that he wouldn’t be embarrassed to pick you up anything period related.

- Would want to take care of you when you’re not feeling well. He feels bad when you don’t let him help you, he knows you just don’t want him getting sick because of you but it’s a habit of his to worry about and be there for his girls.

- Subtly showing your disapproval of him staying out all night. He knows what you’re getting at and agrees himself that he should stop but he tiredly makes a joke instead of saying so.

- Though you might be a slight hypocrite since you’ve snuck out to be with him during the night more than a few times.

- Lending him supplies when he doesn’t bring them to class.

- Makes kiss faces at you especially after saying something sarcastic and/or you scoffing at him.

- He looks over at you whenever he makes a joke. You try your best to stifle a laugh at his smartass jokes and antics.

- Sharing food, especially oranges and drinks on a hot summer day.

- Trying to stop him from fighting. He loves you and wants to make you happy but sometimes you won’t be able to succeed.

- Very protective; he isn’t keen on you taking public transport or walking the streets alone. He always walks closest to the road when you’re walking on the sidewalk together.

- Hes completely ready to start a full on fist fight with someone for disrespecting you.

“What? I’m doing this for you.” He says all worked up as you try to hold him back from the person. 

- Feeling bad for thinking he looks hot when he’s angry... and when he spit’s at people. 

- Smoothing out his hair and wiping any blood from his face after he gets into a fight. It helps calm him down and gives you time to give him that tsk™.

- Trying to help calm him down after a fight. Depending on how angry he is there’s a few way that you can... help.

- When he gets angry he gets angry. He never gets as furious as he can be at you but you’ve seen your fair share of moments when trying to calm him down. He often slams his head on things when he gets mad but he’s also been known to throw or flip things.

- Comes to your house uninvited...a lot. Be ready for him to show up without any warning.

- Your parents would probably care more if he wasn’t so sweet to them and didn’t help with things around the house as much. When a kid fixes your car, takes out the trash, helps with the dishes and mows your lawn for free every week it’s kind of hard not to like him.

- Hes got a lot of balls, sometimes he genuinely shocks you with the shit he says or does.

- Sitting in random positions together or on things you usually wouldn’t sit on. A lot of the time he just chills on your kitchen counter while you cook.

- If his grandma knows he’s going to see you she makes him take food or flowers.

- The both of you take turns insulting each other...lovingly.

- Lowkey muscular. When he took off his shirt in front of you for the first time your eyes nearly fell out of your head; all you could do was gulp.

- If you get hurt or sick then prepare to be called stupid and blamed while he takes care of you. It’s just a reflex of his; he has trouble voicing the feelings he has that make him feel weak. 

- Doesn’t like pictures; you have to fight him to take one with you.

- He has quite a few pictures of you though. His grandmother keeps a framed photograph of the two of you in the living room.

- Has and will take his clothes off instead of getting them dirty or wet. You were washing your car and he just straight stripped in your driveway when you asked him to help you a little.

- Can and will fix your car if there’s a problem with it. Him and his boys probably “steal” it for a little while and make it look and run like it’s brand new.

- Jokingly makes a cross at you with his fingers whenever you mess with him or look like you’re about to voice your disapproval over something he’s done.

- Kind of just sits down and takes it when you get angry with him. He usually rolls his eyes or bulges them out a little when you turn your back to him.

- You don’t fight very often, there’s only been a few actual fights in your relationship. The biggest fight you’ve ever had was about him not wanting people knowing about your relationship(in its beginning). He just wanted to protect you and keep you away from the shit he gets himself into; you understood that.

- But let’s be honest, a secret relationship is hard, not being able to acknowledge your boyfriend in front of people is hard, hearing other girls say he’s attractive is hard. And that isn’t lost on him either, he hates seeing other guys flirt with you or not being able to walk you to class like a proper boyfriend.

- He’s really good at apologies. It’s so hard for you not to forgive him especially since you can’t stand being upset with him in the first place.

“I may be a sinner but I’m willing to pay for my sins.”

- He introduces you to Chuco who really doesn’t care. He does kind of hit on you though. After the two of them stop hanging out he flirts with you just to piss him off and tries to get answers out of you.

- Trying to cheer him up after the whole scandal and after he cuts ties with his gang. He’s a bit of a pessimist in general and you try your best to change that, he thinks it’s cute.

- Supporting him and his ambitions.

- He wants to prove himself to you even though you assure him that he doesn’t have to and that you love him no matter who he is.

- He says “love you” often, anytime the two of you say goodbye he’ll say it as though it’s the easiest thing in the world for him to do.

- If he didn’t marry you; which he in all seriousness plans on doing, his mother and grandmother would never let him live it down.