#please tell me if there are any errors!

[cloudravine]

🪷 The Lotus Flower in Mysterious Lotus Casebook 🪷

i. Growing Deep Roots

As noted by difeisheng, Li Xiangyi is an image more than he is a person. He’s the “symbol” and “beating heart” of the Sigu sect; “he embodies everything [the sect] stands for” and “has become one with every person he represents” in his role as a leader. As such, one might say he doesn’t exist as an individual who’s allowed the luxury of flawed, fluid humanity. Rather, he’s fixed into an object: a shield protecting those under his care, a mirror reflecting those he’s taken upon himself to be the champion for.  

While a heavy burden to carry, this identity as image is also shown to be brittle, hollow, like a hazy mirage which is more dazzling appearance than substance. Even Fang Duobing introduces Li Xiangyi to Li Lianhua by showing him a painting of his shifu — ink on a page, a person turned into a hero to be worshipped and idolated. 

Li Lianhua, over the ten years that pass after the Great Battle of the East Sea, works to plant and cultivate a new identity in the same way one might grow flowers. Li Lianhua forms deep roots and grows out of the mythical hero’s shell he’d been carrying as Li Xiangyi, thus developing an identity which is solid and grounding in contrast — an identity which involves “walk[ing] within a crowd instead of [soaring] above it.”

This shift from image to person is itself rooted in the lotus mantra (written by Buddhist Layman Pang during the Tang Dynasty) which Li Xiangyi first encounters after monk Wu Liao rescues him:

一念心清净 莲花处处开

The heart attains peace with a single thought; Lotus flowers bloom all around.

Although the exact timeline is left to interpretation, it’s implied that the lotus mantra operates as a catalyst of change for Li Xiangyi and that he changes his name to Li Lianhua after reading it. Now what is it about it that speaks to Li Xiangyi so deeply in that moment? As noted in 《 人間福報 》, the lotus mantra teaches us that a pure heart will result in an open and enlightened mind. One subtle, profound thought rife with compassion is enough for a person to glimpse Buddha in a flower, a leaf, a grain of sand or a speck of dust. In short, “if you can find peace within yourself, then you will find peace everywhere.” Perhaps Li Xiangyi, at his lowest point, finds solace in the prospect of stripping his life down to its very core and searching for purity, wisdom and peace within his troubled heart.    

By renaming himself 莲花/liánhuā lotus flower, Li Lianhua takes his destiny into his own hands; he empowers himself into reshaping his identity and laying down the foundations for the person he wants to become. Similarly to The Yin-Yang Master: Dream of Eternity which tells us that “names are the shortest spells in the world,” Li Lianhua’s new name functions as a spell which speaks a new him into existence. It’s a deliberate choice, a conscious attempt at breaking free from the suffocating shell Li Xiangyi was trapped in and become a person of his own choosing. 

The act of (re)naming notably also extends to Li Lianhua’s abode which he dubs 莲花楼 “Lotus Tower.” In addition to this significant choice of name, it’s interesting to note that Li Lianhua starts growing vegetables inside Lotus Tower when he’s left with nothing after his demise at the East Sea and is facing starvation. As such, his home is quite literally a site not only of self-sustenance and survival, but also of growth — a growth which requires hard work, patience and faith and nearly brings Li Lianhua to tears when his hopes are finally rewarded and the seeds he planted begin sprouting. The act of physically planting vegetables and learning to cook those vegetables speaks of a refreshing and grounding simplicity — of something disarmingly vulnerable and human after playing the role of a god-like figure. Li Lianhua has sweat on his brow and hope in his heart; he plants seeds, watches them grow and keeps himself alive by his own hands.

It seems it’s not only Li Lianhus’a home, but also his very person, which steadily grow into a lotus flower. Li Lianhua wears a variety of hairpins directly linked to the lotus, and the colour coding of his garments moves from the red he used to wear as Li Xiangyi to a lighter palette filled with greens and blues — colours which are more obviously linked to nature.

ii. Life Borrowed and Given Away

The lotus, both traditionally and within the drama itself, is closely connected to the theme of rebirth. On a literal level, the exotic lotus flowers of Cai Lian Manor grow directly from the corpses of the victims drowned in the pond, thus embodying life born from death. thawrecka writes in their story that Li Lianhua is “nothing but a lotus nurtured by a walking corpse, a body that doesn’t realise it should already be dead.” On a figurative level, the lotus grows in muddy water but blooms unsullied every morning, thus symbolising rising from a dark place and growing into something beautiful and colourful despite all the odds. The different stages of the lotus’ blooming can be taken to represent the beginning, middle and end of a spiritual path in Buddhism — a parallel to the theme of 趟/tāng taking a journey which underscores the drama in various ways.

Li Lianhua’s journey, more specifically, is that of a lotus being reborn. The soundtrack piece 《 一壶莲花醉 》 “A Pot of Lotus Wine” emphasises this connection in the following lines:

问一句莲花的悲喜 断一柄弃剑入青泥

I ask about the joys and sorrows of the lotus; A broken, abandoned sword is thrown into the mud.

Not only does Li Lianhua keep stressing at different points of the drama that Li Xiangyi is dead and all that is left behind is Li Lianhua; he even breaks his own sword Shaoshi at the end of the story, thereby physically reenacting a process of destruction—death—and rebirth. As Li Lianhua writes in his farewell letter: 

剑断人亡

My sword is broken, and I will be gone.

The significance of Li Lianhua’s action is further intensified here by the fact that the sword in the song is said to be thrown into 泥/ní mud, the site from which a lotus flower grows.

Considering that Shaoshi operates as a device embodying Li Lianhua’s character development throughout the drama, the fact that Li Lianhua decides to break it in the last episode should be taken as a key moment in which he chooses how his own narrative is going to end. Li Lianhua decides to kill for good the glorious image of Li Xiangyi which has become sullied with pain and regret in his heart, so that a simple, fragile peace can begin growing in its place like a lotus flower amidst the mud.

However, the tragedy of Li Lianhua’s narrative is that the rebirth he works to achieve for all these years is not his own to enjoy and never was intended to be. After the Great Battle of the East Sea, as Li Lianhua is reborn from Li Xiangyi and starts planting seeds all around him, he has already accepted that he’s nothing but a ghost, “wandering in the jianghu to close his loose ends and finally [...] vanish without a trace, not even a body left behind.” As mx-myth remarks, even the shift in his garment colours to an overwhelming amount of white as the story progresses makes it clear that he’s resigned to go and has “already started dressing for his own funeral.” 

The lotus flower symbolism permeating the narrative accentuates this bone-deep, unshakable resignation. While imprisoned by Jiao Liqiao, Li Lianhua is full of an aching, bittersweet fatalism when he recites a section of Guan Hanqing’s《 窦娥冤 》“The Injustice to Dou E”:

花有重开日 人无再少年 不须长富贵 安乐是神仙

Flowers will blossom again, But a man can never be young again. Seek not eternal wealth; You only need to be content.

Independently from the original meaning of the lines written by Guan Hanqing, the words seem to take on a sad, wistful quality when spoken with a bitter smile by Li Lianhua. In this scene, while the speaker reflects that rebirth occurs outside of themselves in flowers, they acknowledge that their own reality is one inevitably bound to end in old age and decay. Instead of looking forward to a bright future, the speaker doesn’t express any dreams nor ambitions and is only grateful that they’re alive this minute, this second, without any future prospects awaiting them. Perhaps a similar sentiment is reflected in the following lines from 《 一壶莲花醉 》 “A Pot of Lotus Wine”:

了了心事只 不负众生 而已

After settling my worries,  I just want to live up to all sentient beings.

Li Lianhua’s connection to the lotus flower, in fact, was always meant to be one of non-attachment. While Buddhism believes desire to be the root of all suffering, the lotus symbolises non-attachment due to being “rooted in mud (attachment and desire)��� while “its flowers blossom on long stalks unsullied by the mud below.” This explains in part why the lotus is considered pure and noble. For Li Lianhua, this non-attachment takes on sorrowful connotations: it means that he stubbornly refuses to reap the seeds he sows and focuses his purest heart and will into ensuring those around him get to reap them instead. Non-attachment means allowing himself enough (a roof over his head, food on his plate) to survive, but rarely letting himself indulge in the precious luxuries of reciprocated love and care — of carefree joy and thirst for adventure.  

The ten years he lives after his first death at the East Sea are, for him, only borrowed time he didn’t deserve — borrowed time not dedicated to himself, but rather dedicated to others.

In many ways, Li Lianhua’s path effectively goes full-circle by the end of the narrative. When he and Di Feisheng reminisce about the moon they remember from ten years ago, they conclude that today’s moon isn’t any brighter than the one alive in their memory: rather, it remains constant, unchanged, as though the past ten years never existed as anything other than a short pause in the story, a coma, long enough for wrongs to be righted but not  for an already-dead person’s fate to be changed.

It’s interesting and particularly significant that the Styx flower (忘川花, from 忘川 “River of Forgetting” in the original Mandarin) is said throughout the drama to be the only thing capable of saving Li Lianhua’s life. In traditional Chinese culture, the Styx or River of Forgetting is part of the process of reincarnation; only by crossing it (and forgetting everything they’ve ever experienced and everyone they’ve ever loved) can a person finally reincarnate. For Li Lianhua, salvation through rebirth comes at a high cost — a price he’s evidently been ready to pay since the beginning, even if it means turning him into a ghost who must vanish from the story in order for those around him to grow and thrive further.

When Li Lianhua breaks his own sword to allow for rebirth, it’s not himself he’s saving. His sole purpose throughout his journey as Li Lianhua is to use whatever meagre strength he has left, whatever passion and drive are still alive in him, to save the world in any small ways that he can. He becomes a doctor who heals people; he looks for answers and solves mysteries to atone for the sins he thinks he has committed and rectify the mistakes he thinks he has made, so that those he has hurt can finally find peace and comfort.

The most powerful legacy Li Lianhua intends to leave behind by the end of the story has nothing to do with himself and everything to do with the people around him who he never truly admits he loves — the messy, imperfect world that’s caused him so much pain but that he nevertheless insists on saving with everything he has. 

Most strikingly, Li Lianhua chooses—whether consciously or not—to leave the life and future he’s renounced for himself to his companions Fang Duobing and Di Feisheng. The only traces he purposefully leaves behind live in them: in the Yangzhouman coursing through Fang Duobing’s body; the home, dog and recipe book he passes onto him; the worthy opponent he leaves for Di Feisheng to fight in his stead after he’s gone… 

Fang Duobing, by the end of the story, has grown into more than a disciple and a friend to Li Xiangyi/Li Lianhua: he himself has become the lotus flower bringing renewed life after Li Lianhua has left the narrative, thereby taking Li Lianhua’s legacy into a hopeful, vibrant future. As mx-myth mentions in their colour analysis, Fang Duobing notably wears bright pastel tones including a large amount of green/blue — a colour coding which emphasises Fang Duobing’s connection to spring and, by extension, new life and beginnings. “Life will always go on if there’s spring”; and so Fang Duobing’s youth, vitality and optimism can grow in the empty space left behind by Li Lianhua after he fades into the autumn of his life.

While Li Lianhua’s predominantly light colour palette might appear to align him with other characters in the drama who have left the past behind and are looking towards the future, Li Lianhua made peace long ago with the knowledge that he’s destined not to belong in that future. Just as the Lotus Sutra teaches us that “the inner determination of an individual has great transformative power” and “gives ultimate expression to the infinite potential and dignity inherent in each human life,” Li Lianhua focuses all his transformative efforts on creating a future which, despite having no place for him, will be fertile ground for the entire martial arts world to grow deep, healthy roots. In Li Lianhua’s own words:

幼芽生枝 新木长成 武林也一样 这未来如何 谁又能说得清楚呢

The young sprouts and the new trees grow. The martial arts world is the same. What does the future hold? Who can say clearly?

Should we say, then, that Li Lianhua’s story is one of sacrifice, self-renunciation and resignation — of drifting inevitably towards death as a flower carried by a stream? As he disappears on a boat and is asked where he’s going, Li Lianhua gives a response which echoes his first death at the East Sea in a way that feels entirely deliberate:

小舟从此逝， 江海寄余生

From now on I would vanish with my little boat; For the rest of my life on the sea I would float. 

How are we to understand a person being reborn simply so they can pass on that new life to others, and being convinced that their only true value lies in their death?

Perhaps, in spite of it all, we can find some small comfort in the knowledge that, no matter how sorrowful Li Lianhua’s fate, it’s at least one that he chooses — one that he has full control over, even poisoned and robbed of his life force as he is. As the lyrics of 《 一壶莲花醉 》 “A Pot of Lotus Wine” underline, “it’s just a matter of picking an ending that you like.” Perhaps that’s all that truly matters. 

wuxia-vanlifer makes an excellent point when asking: “What would be more tragic? That he never believed he was loved? Or that he did, but vanished anyway?” While I don’t have an answer to offer, there’s one thing I can say. Li Xiangyi, Li Lianhua — they live and die by love. They can’t conceive of themselves as anything other than a sacrificial tool because, for all that they pretend to be aloof and untethered, they actually love others—and the world—in a bone-deep, profound way they’ve never loved themselves. That love is not only the true driving force behind Li Lianhua’s character and the fate he chooses: it’s the beating heart of the entire drama.

“In this life, I have loved and I have been loved. That is enough.”

Shoutout to the following authors and bloggers whose brilliant words and ideas inspire me, as well as this gorgeous video 💖

ao3: @extraordinarilyextreme @thawrecka

tumblr: @difeisheng @extraordinarilyextreme @mx-myth @wuxia-vanlifer @xinyuehui

[mccnstruck]

your wishes marked on my skin (your vision blurred with mine)

characters: kazuha x gn!reader, tomo, mentions of beidou, gorou, raiden shogun, and traveller

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, good ending, headcanons included, major character death, 5k words (ZEE GONE INSANE NOT CLICKBAIT), long fic, curse word, not focused on relationship, reader has a vision and weapon of choice, not proofread, op has gone insane and now is short-circuited to only thinking of kazuha, op has gone bonkers in tags, traveller uses they/them pronouns, unspecified traveler, canon semi-complient

a/n: holy SHIIHDBFJDSFFSFDS. Um. I kinda. Yea this was 5k words what the hell zee DO SOMETHING ELSE YOU HAVE 3 TESTS TOMORROW- anyways i REALLLLY HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS cuz i sure enjoyed writing and imagining this at school. Reblogs and tags are much appreciated yea i hope you have a ASTRONOMICALLY GREAT DAY / NIGHT !!!!! (Zee is hyper because he is going insane) (p.s. i had 168 premium grammarly errors on this piece thats how you know this about to go crazy. crazy i was crazy once they-) (P.S.S. EARLY BIRTHDAY GIFT FOR KAZUHA BECAUSE I AM BUSY ANYWAYS HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAZUHA I LOVE YOU MERA CHAANDA MERA JAAN)

What if there were tattoos in teyvat...but with a twist?

If you are a vision wielder, you can infuse elemental power into your tattoo. Whenever you get into battle, your tattoo glows and it stays glowing until the battle is over.

But, you could also have other vision wielders infuse your tattoo as well.

When you, kazuha, and tomo used to travel together, you proposed of the idea.

"Hey... we should get matching tattoos! You know, the ones with each other visions infused. That would be cool."

Kazuha hummed in response. “Don’t they hurt though?”

Tomo brightened at your suggestion. “Oh yeah! Some methods of inking hurt, but some are less painful and take longer. I think the method they use to infuse elemental power does take longer, considering the person has to wield their vision AND bear the pain.”

Kazuha hummed again but in disagreement. “Why would you make yourself go through all that pain once more?”

The companion to Kazuha’s left let out a huff. “Pssh, in comparison to the result! We can have permanent matching tattoos to remind us of the amazing friendship we have!”

You nodded excitedly. “See Kazuha, even Tomo thinks it’s a great idea! However…”

Tomo and Kazuha both turn to face you with curiosity.

“...I fail to agree with how Tomo views one part of our bond…”

“Hm? [ name ], what do you mean,” Tomo questioned.

You took a deep breath before sending a prayer to any archon who would answer in time. for you were about to make what you believed was the riskiest choice of your life.

You brought Kazuha’s closest hand and let your thumb stroke his rough, calloused skin, before lifting it to your lips. Letting your lips linger on his skin, you ignored both Kazuha’s and Tomo’s widened eyes and whispered your confession. “I would like to turn it into something more. If… If you would allow me.”

When you looked to see him, Kazuha’s face was burning. For once, the calm, collected wanderer was not calm and collected at all. To your side, Tomo let out a whistle which caused Kazuha’s face to become undoubtedly more flustered.

Tomo smirked before saying, “Well, well, well. looks like [ name ] learned from the best,” before patting himself on the back, smug and prideful of himself.

You copied his words mockingly. You let go of Kazuha's hands, instead focusing on making sure Tomo ate dust. Both of these duties were equally important to you, but sometimes you have to fight for dignity, and if anyone could make sure Tomo didn’t leave with your pride, it would be you.

You two bickered for what seemed like ages before Kazuha finally spoke up. “You guys…”

Both you and Tomo immediately shut up and held your breaths at the sudden change of tone.

“Sorry Kazuha…”

“No worries…”

Kazuha looked at you two for what seemed like ages. He realized that, out of all the times and out of all the people he would even dare to get a tattoo, you two were the most reasonable choice. You three have explored, laughed, and eaten together. As wanderers, you’ve slept under the same stars and ran through the same quick-tempered storms. So as much as he didn’t want to deal with more pain for the sake of it, he would want to have both of you engraved into his skin, both of your souls running through his blood. When he is separated from you two (archons forbid), all he would have to do is look at his forearms to remind him of the bond you’ve tightened with one another. It would remind him that “distance makes the heart grow fonder”.

“I would like them. The tattoos.”

Tomo scoffed and shot a disapproving look at you. “See, now that you have Kazuha wrapped around your finger, he’ll agree to anything now!”

“Hey! He’s doing it out of free will. And oh please, you’re just whiny that you’re gonna be third wheeling now!”

“Who said I was gonna be third wheeling?!”

Kazuha smiled, as the bickering sprang back into life. You three reached the city to search for a tattoo, a symbol of the bond you have made with them. Nothing will break it apart.

And you did get the tattoos! For all three of you, each of your forearms was covered in traditional Inazuman artworks, symbolizing each person.

Kazuha chose the maple tree, Tomo chose the koi fish, and you chose the rising sun. Each has its symbolism, having its own way of reminding you of each other.

Kazuha wouldn’t be Kazuha without representing the calm, peaceful maple tree, standing over to make sure all under the shade is rested.

As his perseverance and his courage make him a good traveling companion, Tomo represents the koi fish.

As for you… You found yourself closest to the rising sun. Ever so optimistic, ever so hopeful for the new day. The darkness may have clung to you; trying to slowly hack into your mind to give up, trying to belittle your efforts. But when dawn breaks and the sun rises, the newfound warmth comforts your shivering body. The sun is there to say all will be alright.

…

Except when it isn’t.

For as soon as it seemed like everything would be okay, that hope was crushed by reality as quickly.

The Vision Hunt Degree had been ordered by the Shogun to kill anyone who possessed one.

The day it was enforced to all of Inazuma was the day the two closest people in your life were separated from you. In the heat of the moment, you shouted for them to run; for you would distract the soldiers. Tomo and Kazuha both tried to ignore your order and keep on fighting but were soon met with a sting on their arm. The rising sun drawn on their arms practically shone with the color of your vision, and it was hard to ignore how much of your vision you were using.

“I said, GO!”

They had no time to disagree with you, for another soldier swung the sword at both of them. You saw them running in the corner of your eyes, assumably heading in different directions before focusing on the battle in front of you.

Your anger manifested into your attacks, your arms glowing.

How… How could the Shogun be so cruel..? How could she just determine that Inazuma's hopes and ambitions were useless? How could she take the people closest to you away…?

The soldiers fell to the ground one by one as they tried to get back up. With the last of them wounded temporarily, you ran as quickly as you could. Trying to find Kazuha and Tomo, you lifted your hand to block the light and search far and wide…

Only to find nothing.

Your heart felt as if it stopped and a new sense of fear rushed through. What if they were hurt? What if they were lost, or found by the soldiers? Or worse…What if they were lying dead?

What if what if what if what if what if what if WHAT IF-

You look down and see the maple tree and the koi fish glowing; purple and teal were coloring your arms. The glow didn’t sting, so you knew they weren’t out in battle, but they were out there. They were alive.

You sighed in relief, but it didn’t last long when you heard soldiers yelling to find you. You quickly hid under the trees and took one last look at the view ahead of you. The distance grows the heart fonder, and in this situation, much, much more disquieted.

And for the first time in what seemed like forever, you were alone. And you felt it in your soul.

Before you met Kazuha and Tomo, you were alone. You wandered around, knowing you were to be by yourself. You were just “yourself”.

But now that you know you were separated from them, it was terrifying.

Now, if someone asked “how are you”, the word “you” was Tomo, you, and Kazuha laughing along the trails leading to the city. “You” included the times you watched the stars, pointing to different constellations.

“You” included you, Kazuha, and Tomo.

And now that two-thirds of yourself were lost, you felt as if you would never relieve this pain in your heart.

Every day, you looked at your arms and were met with how dull they looked without the familiar purple and teal glow.

But still, you didn’t stop.

Wandering through a small town, you sat down on the grass to take a rest. There weren’t any soldiers around, and your face was hidden by a hat.

“Did you hear?!”

Your ears perked up at the stranger’s sudden shock.

“What happened? You seem so shocked.”

The stranger closest to you took a deep breath as if what he witnessed was a burden to his soul.

“Someone is challenging Kujou Sara in Tenshukaku, and the loser will face the Shogun's punishment… Last time I saw him, he had an electro vision…”

Your eyes widened. Please don’t be….he couldn’t have…

“Did you see him in person?”

“Yeah, I think he has some tattoos on his arms. I saw a tattoo of a koi fish and a maple tree on his arm-“

“Did you hear that?!”

The two strangers looked towards where you were but found nothing but a straw hat gently falling onto the grass.

Up ahead, your legs ran faster than your mind trying to make sense of it all.

Tomo.

Tomo.

You ran, and you ran, and when you felt like your heart was going to burst, you remembered Tomo, and you ran faster. Your legs felt like they were merely connected to your body, running to a place of its own. But what could you do, when your mind still couldn't find an explanation for all of this?

Tomo… why would he stand before Raiden's Musou no Hitomachi? He knew Kujou Sara was a potent individual, so why…

Thoughts lingered through your mind as you caught sight of Inazuma City. The thunder roared, and you realized it didn't have the spark it used to have.

Your hands shook as the Inazuma City you once knew was not your Inazuma City.

It felt too stiff. Too suffocating. You couldn't feel the cool air breeze through your hair, as the humidity made you want to turn back.

You force yourself to run down to the entrance of the city and Tenshukaku.

You were scared. More than scared. Your shaking hands held your vision close.

Would you see Tomo smiling in victory? Or would you see your vision go white from her strike? Would you regain your vision to see one of your closest friends lying in his blood?

Your pace grew faster and faster.

And faster.

And faster and faster and faster-

But when you stopped in front of the stairs where Tomo was supposed to be, you instead saw Kazuha run to you, panicked. And in his burnt hands, was a gray vision, with the markings of an electro holder.

You were too late.

You almost didn't hear Kazuha's desperate pleas as he grabbed your hand.

"[ Name ], we have to go."

You both ran down the stairs as soldiers ran after; their shouts ringing through your ears.

“You can't resist the Shogun's punishment, criminals!"

Ignoring their threats, you ran past Inazuma City’s entrance and soon past Konda Village. You couldn’t tell if the soldiers were still behind you, but it didn’t matter when all you could hear was their voices running through your head. You and Kazuha ran for what felt like hours. No matter how hard you tried to slow your pacing heart, Kazuha tugged your hand as he ran. You wanted to tell him to slow down, but you didn’t have the heart to.

You didn’t have the heart after you were too slow to save Tomo.

The rain poured as thunder roared in your ears. You and Kazuha ran into a cave and leaned against the wall to catch your breath.

Kazuha, sitting opposite of you, pulled out the gray, lifeless vision. His hands were burned, yet they gripped the vision painfully.

Your breath hitched. Your throat closed in on itself, and your memories of Tomo flashed through your eyes.

Tomo.

Tomo.

Tomo.

Before you could stop yourself, the tears matched the rain out of the cave, and you shakily held Kazuha’s hands. Your tears fell on the vision that once shined with the pride of an electro holder, and your agony couldn’t be held in you anymore.

A gut-wrenching cry of his name left your throat, and you let the cold, gray vision touch your forehead. Kazuha didn’t have the energy to wince; his tears hitting the ground.

The sun never shone that day. And the sun in your soul didn’t either.

After that day, both you and Kazuha stayed by each other’s side, graciously taking the help of the Kamisato clan to board the Crux.

Beidou’s crew were extremely generous to both of you, making sure you got used to life above seas. Yet, they always wondered why you and Kauzha were so quiet. You only talked to each other, and your interactions were short and dry.

As months passed, Kazuha grew to be much more chatty with the crew, even letting you hear his poems underneath the moonlight.

You were genuinely happy for him. Kazuha deserved to let the world guide his spirits without any hesitation. You never wanted the shine in Kazuha’s eyes to stop shining, unlike the fateful day you both witnessed.

But you…you never let it go. You couldn’t let yourself forget.

Too slow.

You were too slow to save him.

Working on the ship, you made sure your hands swiftly moved through your chores; making sure your lack of speed didn’t burden any of the crew. When you had time to yourself, your hands gripped your weapon and your steps were swift and sneaky. Your body ached to rest, but your heart disagreed. You were to make sure that this would never happen again. You were to make sure no one would lose their life because of you.

Kazuha watched your eyes struggle to open daily, your fingers bruised and sore, and the hours spent training without a minute to rest. Captain Beidou seemed to notice as well.

“Kazuha?”

His head turned to the side as his legs dangled over the side of the boat.

“Yes, Captain Beidou?”

She sighed, and she looked to make sure you weren’t near.

“It’s about your partner.”

Kazuha frowned.

“I am aware.”

“Please talk to them. They look like death is at their door. Does this have to do with going back to Inazuma?”

Kazuha nodded and turned his head back to the sea.

“The wind tells me of their concerns. I hear the fears that crawl through their mind. The sun doesn’t shine in their soul like it used to.”

He looked down at his arms as the color of your vision glowed on his arms.

Beidou patted Kazuha’s shoulder in solace.

“I understand. Just…please get a chance to talk to them. I wouldn’t want a part of my crew working themselves to death. As a part of the Crux, you guys have a support system behind you. If you ever need us, you know where.”

Kazuha smiled and whispered a “thank you”, as Beidou returned to help the crew navigate the ship. He looked over at you, who came back from training, and smiled. You gave a tired but soft smile back, before leaving to finish up chores.

The sun was no longer visible as the crew finished their tasks and headed to their cabins. Instead of resting, Kazuha watched over the seas. The moonlight hit his face, and the black ink swiftly glided over his journal.

“I was wondering where you could’ve been. You weren’t in the cabin.”

Kazuha turned to see you walking up to him. Your eyes pleaded to shut, and for a moment you were about to fall asleep standing up. Yet, you still went to make sure Kauzha was okay.

Kazuha cupped your face, and you leaned into his touch.

“Kazu…”

“Do you wish to hear something I wrote?”

You slowly nodded. Kazuha looked at his journal and whispered.

“Rising sun hidden,

the world’s horror blinding you,

my sun stays fearful.”

When Kazuha looked back at you, he almost giggled at your sleep-deprived state. Your eyes were closed, and you leaned into his hand like a pillow.

“Mmm…? That’s nice, Kazuha…”

He smiled at your attempt to stay awake. “Let’s get you to bed, sleepy.”

Your head landed on his shoulder as you shuffled your feet. Kazuha sighed in relief that everyone was in their cabins. He wouldn’t be able to take the crew’s teasing if they ever saw the comical sight of you two.

As soon as you caught sight of your bed, you fell into it and brought the soft blankets up to your chin.

You were dead asleep, it seemed.

Kazuha climbed into bed and laid his head next to yours. With his eyes drooping, Kazuha whispered one more thing before falling into slumber.

“My rising sun. Please don’t hide yourself away from everyone. We’re always here for you. I’m here. Always.”

When Kazuha fell asleep soon after, he never noticed the tears on your skin.

You whispered back. “Thank you.”

After that night, Kazuha was thrilled to see you walking around the boat with more energy, even taking the time to sit with Kazuha as he mused over his poems.

Kazuha recently had started to see if he could somehow ignite the purple glow into the vision, while you had no hope for it.

“Kazuha… are you sure?”

“I want to at least try once. After all, it couldn’t hurt, would it?”

“I guess…”

You both meet a blonde traveler with fiery gold eyes. As the Traveler competed throughout the contest hosted by Beidou, you couldn’t help but notice Kazuha’s keen interest in the traveler.

“You’ve been staring at the Traveler for quite a while. What’s up with that?”

Kazuha hummed. “The wind tells me that this humble traveler is going to be more important to our journey than it seems.”

He paused. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing. Just wondering, that's all.”

You both stayed silent as you watched the duels unfold.

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

You gasped and almost choked on your spit. You turn your head to Kazuha who grinned mischievously.

“Huh?! Where did you get that?!”

Kazuha pretended to act bewildered at your reaction. “Your reaction is quite defensive, dear. That says quite a lot, doesn’t it?”

“You…you! I never thought of you being so cunning and devious!”

Kazuha giggled, and you smiled back. “I’m just teasing. Although, I wasn’t necessarily wrong.”

You scoffed with faux anger. “Focus on the duels, Kazu…”

As expected, the Traveler was victorious in the duels, since the last challenger was nowhere to be found.

Suspicious of the no-show, Kazuha checked to see the award to find nothing in the chest. Kazuha’s eyes widened and his tone lost its playfulness.

“Someone stole the vision.”

You quickly stood up to check yourself and were also greeted by a visionless chest.

Beidou’s voice echoed to the crew. “Everyone start searching!”

You soon found the vision to be with a treasure hoarder. The hoarder begging for his life, Kazuha sighed and confiscated the vision. You and Kazuha were quite impressed with the Traveler’s ability to wield elemental power without a vision.

All that the Traveler asked was to be taken to Inazuma. With final warnings and hesitations from you, the Traveler was to board the ship with you to the land of eternity.

When the ship did reach the docks, the Traveler and Paimon immediately hopped off and looked at the beauty of Inazuma.

With hesitation you walk to the wooden dock, the Inazuman breeze flowing past you.

The Traveler looked back and smiled at you and Kazuha. “Thank you so much, you two.”

You smiled back, shaking your head. “No worries. Just make sure to remember what I said. Don’t want you to get hurt, ok?”

Kazuha snickered next to you. “You sound like a parent. But please do heed caution. May you meet us again, Traveler.”

Paimon laughed, “Alright, alright, we’ll see you later!”

Paimon and the Traveler waved before they headed to Ritou.

Beidou suddenly walked past both of you, before saying she wanted to take the Traveler to Thoma. You both nodded, promising to watch over the ship.

As you returned to the ship, Kazuha looked over the horizon into Ritou.

“Worried?”

Kazuha hummed.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Will the Traveler be alright? I understand the incredible ability to have elemental power without a vision, but…”

“But…?”

He looked down at his arms and stared at the koi fish. “Tomo.”

You looked down onto your arms and stared into the grey koi fish. "Tomo…"

You willed yourself not to shed a tear and squeezed Kazuha's shoulder. "We're not going to let anyone else lose their life and their vision. Not even the Traveler. The dreams of Inazuma will not be stuck to rot in eternity. You got it?'"

Kazuha looked back at you and smiled, wiping a tear from his eye. "Yes, we will."

You took his hand and pulled him towards you, wrapping your arms around his back. He buried his head in the crook of your neck and you pressed your lips to the top of his head.

You quickly lowered your voice before continuing. "I think the Traveler has a major role in the freedom of Inazuma. The Traveler has a lot of power with no vision."

Kazuha hummed in agreement.

"Yet… I fear the Shogun will be displeased with the Traveler’s ability to change her view of eternity."

"The shogun wouldn't be pleased with anything, Kazuha. But in retaliation, do years of anger ask whether anyone's feelings would be hurt?"

A moment of silence, before Kazuha whispered, "You're right. Thank you, dear."

You loosened your embrace to kiss him on the forehead. "Let's go eat something. I'm sure I saw the chef cooking the fish well."

Kazuha laughed, and you swore to the Shogun that nothing, not even her, could take Kazuha from you.

You both walked to the kitchen to fulfill your stomach's desire, and you made your heart promise to you that day to never stop fighting for Inazuma. For your heart desired to love Inazuma, and in turn, Inazuma would always welcome you home.

Months of preparation and months of aiding the resistance, you and Kazuha finally step foot in Inazuma, fighting with Kokomi and her resistance to let the Kujou army retreat.

The Traveler and Paimon were very happy to see both of you, telling you of their journey and the fight with the Shogun herself. Kazuha’s and your eyes widened at the tales they told.

“Like… fighting the Shogun?”

“Technically? Thoma and I ran out as soon as possible and I came to the resistance.”

You were awed by the Traveler’s skill and wit to not be killed by the Shogun. You knew that they were extraordinary, and the Traveler did not disappoint, soon finding out about the delusions being handed out.

You couldn't be surprised at the Fatui's inhumane crimes. But the severity of the damage. The lives lost to their carelessness. The dreams which no longer thrived.

Your fingers and arms shook with anger. You tapped your fingers on your leg to resist pulling out your sword and stabbing the wall.

The Traveler gave you a joyless smile, understanding your pain.

The Traveler went off to fight Raiden Shogun, and Kazuha, the resistance, and you stood outside Tenshukaku. You were discussing tactics to negotiate when the Traveler came back out smiling.

You all watched the Traveler and Paimon walk out of Tenshukaku with a triumphant smile. You were about to run to the Traveler to praise them when a flash of electro appeared behind them. Your eyes widened and you swore you almost saw flashbacks running through your head.

The shogun emerged behind the Traveler and raised her sword.

You couldn't do anything. She was going to kill another person.

The adrenaline ran through Kazuha's body, and he ran towards the Shogun with his sword out.

You saw a flash of purple overwhelm your vision, and you already prepared yourself to see the Shogun's purple glow kill Kazuha.

What you didn't expect was to see your arms glowing in purple and teal. Looking up, you saw Kazuha’s vision glowing as his sword clashed with the Shogun's. Close to his vision, Tomo's vision glowed a vivid purple. The vision glowed brighter and brighter, and as your arms glowed an insane purple, Kazuha struck the Shogun back.

Tomo.

Tomo.

The vision.

The vision lit up.

You whispered.

"Holy shit."

Kazuha was knocked back by her sword and fell backward. His sword stabbed itself into the ground, and he kneeled in pain.

You and Gorou rushed to him to make sure he was alright. You looked at the visions on his belt, before looking back at the Shogun.

Anger bubbled in your throat, and adrenaline ran through your veins. Your vision revealed itself and glowed profusely. The tattoos on Kazuha's and your skins glowed. Before you could process your own emotions, you stood and let out a gut-wrenching, demanding yell. But it wasn't painful like that fateful day. It was of rebellion and hope.

"Charge!"

You ran towards the Shogun with your weapon in your hand and your heart laid out in plain sight.

Except it wasn’t for the Shogun to shatter. It was for the Inazuman kids who dreamed of going into the world. It was for the Inazuman shopkeepers who always looked at the ocean longingly. It was for the Inazuman vision holders to freely let their vision guide them through their ambitions. It was for future electro-holders to make a difference in their lives. It was for Inazuma to glow its purple light throughout Tevyat. It was for Inazuma. This was for Inazuma and it’s forever changing people.

Gorou soon ordered to attack, and the resistance fighters ran beside you towards the Teyvat.

So this is what Tomo felt, you thought. You were to be insane for fighting, but you would be damned to give in to the Shogun. Because do years of anger ask whether anyone's feelings are hurt?

The shogun seemed unfazed by the army charging at her and opened the Plane of Euthymia. The Traveler fell inside, and she shut the seeming new realm. You tried to grab the Traveler back, but the Shogun was faster. The Plane closed, and you cursed at the winds. You looked to the skies to see gray clouds fill the skies.

Why were you too late every time?

You stopped to catch your breath and looked at the ground where the Shogun stood.

The electro-marked ground darkened from the rigorous and desperate fighting to be free.

You looked back at Kazuha and looked back at the fighters who were paused in their steps. Their eyes widened at the disappearance, and their eyebrows were furrowed from the anger, which turned into confusion.

Your voice echoed down the staircase, and it felt like you were yelling to all of Inazuma.

“To all who have visions! To all who have lost theirs!”

Eyes of fighters watched you with curiosity. Crimson eyes watched you with admiration.

“Our visions are a symbol of life to all! With the Shogun’s order to take them away, our humanity is stripped away from us to fit us into a mold of unattainable eternity! To all who have visions, don’t hide yourself anymore! Our ambitions, our dreams, our emotions, and our humanity shouldn’t be diminished to a name on a gravestone! Everyone, pull out your visions! Channel the overwhelming emotions in your heart to your vision! Let the Shogun hear your wishes no matter how far she is, for she is omnipresent!”

The fighters yelled and made their presence known. Some of them closed their eyes to let their visions glow, and you soon joined them. Your heart raced, and your arms glowed the color of your vision. You felt electro cackle around you as it stroked your skin.

The statue outside Tenshukaku glowed in different colors: dark blue, crimson red, bright teal, light blue, gold, and electrifying purple.

The fighters kept envisioning their power in their visions for as long as they could. They didn’t leave, standing with their hand on their vision for as long as they needed to.

And with every action comes a reaction.

The Plane of Euthymia reemerged, and the Traveler fell out of its opening. Bruised and tired, but alive the Traveler seemed.

Gorou, Kazuha and you rushed to their aid. The fighter stood close in case another attack were to happen.

“Traveler, what happened? Are you okay?!”

The traveler struggled to catch their breath but spoke small words as they recovered.

“The…the Vision Hunt…Vision Hunt Decree…”

Your eyebrows furrowed in worry. What did the Shogun want now?

You spoke in confusion. “The Vision Hunt Decree? What does she want?”

The Traveler raised their head and closed their eyes in bliss. Sweat dripped from their face, and they smiled.

“The Vision Hunt Decree. It’s over. It’s gone. Your pleas and protests got to her.”

Your mind stopped all thoughts.

…What?

Blue and crimson eyes widened at the Traveler’s statement.

Your voice unusually got quiet. “You’re joking, right?”

The Traveler laughed, more out of euphoria. “I got back from almost dying from her sword, and you’re asking me if I’m joking? Tell the entirety of Inazuma. They deserve to know this; this is for them.”

You stood up in a daze and shouted.

“The Vision Hunt Decree is over! The Vision Hunt is over!”

The resistance fighters roared in joy. Their steps, running down the staircase, echoed to the winds, and the winds blew in freedom.

Your body ran down the stairs with them, and your voice cracked with emotion as you shouted down the steps of Inazuma City. People stood outside to check the commotion and were instead met with a new sense of freedom. Visions hidden in homes began to glow, and the cheers and laughter of Inazuma echoed around you.

Overwhelmed with too many emotions, you stopped in your tracks when you felt your vision getting blurry. Behind you, Kazuha shouted for your name repeatedly. You looked behind and were almost tackled into the ground. Kazuha’s shoulders shook as he wrapped his arms around you. You responded in kind and sunk your knees onto the floor.

You both wept in joy. For the people you have lost, and for the people who are given freedom.

Kazuha’s voice cracked as he spoke,” We did it. It’s over.”

You cried even more in his arms. Kazuha held your hand as his endless tears journeyed down his face.

“Do you… Do you think Tomo is happy with us?”

At the mention of his name, Kazuha gritted his teeth and almost let out a sob. He raised your head with his hand on your jaw, and you finally saw Kazuha’s tear-stained face. He quickly tried to rub them away, but you were faster. You gently put your forehead on his and closed his eyes.

Kazuha closed his own and whispered in the abode of two lovers’ embrace. “He would be so proud. He would be watching us right now and grin at his glowing vision.”

“Maybe he’s probably cursing at both of us for the non-stop crying.”

Kazuha let out a watery laugh. “He would, but you would be arguing back. Non-stop bickering between you guys.”

You almost gave a snarky response when you felt the sunlight caress your skin. You looked up to find the gray clouds giving way to the sun, and you were enamored with the blue skies that grazed over Inazuma. Kazuha looked up as well, and as the city of Inazuma saw the sun in its glory, no one noticed the slight glow of purple koi fish on bruised, yet glowing skin.

mccnstruck. do not repost or plagarize my work.

[blazepandaartz]

I had fun with the background

[stitcherofchaos]

Maedhros is an ESTJ

He is dutiful and responsible, when he argues with his father to send the ships back to the larger host of the Noldor, I believe he was considering Fingon specifically out of loyalty, sticking to his principles and ideals about the situation. Obviously this is the Te function that butts heads with his father. I don't need to go into his Te too much otherwise this would be a book-long post but is comes out in the fact that he is an excellent commander and leader.

The reason he is a sensor though is because he uses Si to guide him through middle earth. Si is what reminds him of the larger, stronger portion of the Noldor left behind in Valinor, the oath, how he strategizes, and whenever he sticks to his firmly implanted principles and logic which causes him to make big picture mistakes.

For example: His father leads a battle against Morgoth and dies. A little bit after that, Maedhros tries to overpower Morgoth again and gets captured. The big picture he missed- is that his first sole job is as King of the Noldor and to get the Silmarils back and he focused on the 'smaller 'detail of trying to overpower Morgoth on his own.

Maedhros's mind is in two places: remembering the lessons (and sufferings) of the past and planning for the near future (not far).

The Ne function is tricky but ESTJs use it a surprising amount to come up with better, more efficient, solutions to problems and we can become surprisingly inventive.

Examples: when Maedhros gives the crown to Fingolfin (which none of his brothers expected), making allies with nearly everyone (dwarves and men included), and his last desperate attempt to take the Silmarils, which cause him to spontaneously unalive himself due to despair.

(Trust me when I say, when ESTJs despair, it is caused by hopeless situations and finding ourselves in a dark places where we believe that everything that went wrong was our fault.)

The last function is Fi, and we never see Maedhros confront his own feelings through the book, his entire focus is defeating Morgoth so that all of middle earth can be at peace. But then when it became hopeless, then his eyes focused on the next attainable objective, getting back the Silmarils and fulfilling the oath (despite it being in vain).

That despair I mentioned earlier was the inferior Fi causing Maedhros to mentally break- paired in with Si is a horrible experience.

Fi may be the last function of ESTJ, but it's also ENTJ's last function. it's the same thing that caused Feanor to mentally break after his father's death, a deep seated sorrow coated with wrath (and Feanor is clearly an ENTJ). For Maedhros, it's yearning coated with stoicism.

ESTJs (being the community oriented people that they are) care about their neighbors and want to help them (mostly practically), they want everyone just to get along and not cause any drama or situations which create harm so they can work together more efficiently against the common evil (if they do see it). But they can become brutal when people become a risk/danger to their friends and neighbors.

Maedhros did not want to harm anyone, but due to PTSD and despair, he caved and learned not to care; unhealthily utilizing his Te function to its full extent.

If anyone wants to add on to this and/or disagree, feel free to! I'm guilty of not grasping the four cognitive functions completely but I wanted to get my thoughts out there. I wrote this all though the method of the cognitive functions instead of 'which personality traits match what'.

[greekmythssexywoman]

HERE IS THE GREEK SEXYWOMAN BRACKET ROUND 1 MASTERPOST

on the left side you have:

1. Medea (wife of Jason) vs Galatea (statue brought to life carved by Pygmalion)

2. Andromeda (wife of Perseus) vs Electra (daughter of Agamemnon)

3. Arachne (weaver cursed by athena) vs Echidna (mother of all monsters)

4. Antigone(daughter of Oedipus) vs Echo(cursed nymph in love with Narcissus)

5. Atalanta (married the one who could best her at a footrace) vs Ismene(daughter of Oedipus)

6. Psyche (wife of Eros) vs Iphigenia (daughter of Agamemnon)

7. Circe (witch, the Odyssey)  vs Megaera (one of the furies)

8. Eurydice (wife of Orpheus) vs Hippolyta (queen of amazons)

On the right side you have:

9.Helen (the iliad) vs Siproites (turned into a woman for seeing Artemis bathing)

10. Pandora (created by the gods to open a jar full of evil) vs Io (transformed into a cow by Zeus to hide her from Hera)

11. Ariadne (helped Theseus with the labyrinth) vs Jocasta (mother wife of Oedipus)

12. Clytemnestra (wife of Agamemnon) vs Charybdis and Scylla (The Odyssey)

13. Medusa (cursed to turn anyone she looked at into stone) vs Semele (mother of Dionysus)

14.Daphne (Turned into a laurel tree to escape apollo) vs calypso (the odyssey)

15. Penelope (Odysseus’ wife) vs Briseis (the Iliad)

16. Cassandra (cursed seer, the Iliad) vs Callisto (huntress of Artemis turned into a bear for having slept with Zeus

[frosty-tian]

i want to hear about your sun and moon concept of domon and kageno pls <3 (no pressure tho!) -@soccerpunching

(I see another has joined the small Domon x Kageno club, welcome welcome!)

If I’m not mistaken, sun and moon is similar in concept to Ying and Yang, correct?

Honestly, just the fact it’s ‘opposite attracts’ already won me over (it’s one of my favourite tropes).

Domon is more outward going and friendly, he has this natural charm that easily draws others towards him and doesn’t mind being the centre of attention (but deep down feels very unsure about himself). Seems like he pushes his problems down deep and doesn’t want others to see it.

Kageno is the opposite, he’s way more introverted and struggles with having a positive presence (even if he wants to), drifting by like a phantom. Despite him being in the background, he’s very observant and likely a good listener.

In my version/idea, they both are able to help each other despite being complete opposites. Domon feels comfortable and even at ease when around Kageno (even if many claims he has an ‘eerie/depressive aura’). He can open up a bit more, and both shares their problems about their self-worth and self-confidence. Or even just sitting in silence is nice, just some peace and quiet.

On the flip side, after Domon’s encouragement/support (sometimes in the form of straight up going with him), Kageno is able to have an easier time with socialising (though he still makes his way back to Domon if he gets overwhelmed/drained). On top of that, Domon’s cheery/sunshine-like personality lifts Kageno’s spirits up, almost never failing to bring a smile to his face.

[reflectionsofthesea]

The latest studies have been about second type verbs, inessiivi and adessiivi. It feels good to learn how to say where and when/how things happen! The exercise book made me write a small paragraph about my daily routine, and so I also wrote some more simple phrases using the new things I learned. There's a lot of things to remember and I often need to check back on notes to be sure i'm not forgetting anything, but it's been so satisfying to feel my comprehension grow and put into practice :)

[henriiiii-1001old]

pt two to this

i am weirdly thinking of making this a series who's with me. like i already have a semi plot for this. not sure if i'm gonna make this an au or not, but we'll see

this one also ended up being a lot longer than the other one i think uuuhhh yeah :/ oops

fic/technical spoilers under the cut

(quick warning for mentions of suicide as well as general angst)

The aroma of freshly made coffee scattered around the barren Mandela County police station. Adam sat patiently at the high table near the counter for his own portion as Thatcher poured the brew into two separate mugs. The smaller one was for Thatcher, though he was scared of caffeine suddenly being able to reveal alternates’ true forms. Maybe he could consult his roommate for that.

Thatcher carefully took both mugs over to where Adam sat, placing his cup in front of him softly as to not spill the contents. The last thing he’d want is for Adam to be upset, especially in regards to the previous night. They had slept comfortably in some sleeping bags Thatcher had luckily found in the storage area. Adam had practically begged to sleep next to him, as embarrassed and humiliated he felt as he did, but Thatcher reassured him that he’d be happy to comfort him in any way. The night passed with Thatcher feeling like a new man.

“Good?” Thatcher asked, waiting for a comment of his craft.

“Yeah, definitely better than how my old friend used to make it,” Adam replied. Thatcher noticed his inflection change when he said the word “friend,” and as much as he wanted to pry - and imply - about it he knew this was not the time or place to do so.

“So, you feeling okay?”

Adam tensed before replying. “Sort of. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again, but… Yeah.”

Thatcher hummed in understanding and nodded. He took a sip of his own creation before swallowing it and sighing in relief. The only sound filling the room after that were quiet sips of coffee and anxious tapping of their mugs. Adam also tugged and rubbed furiously at the blanket he had wrapped around himself for warmth and comfort. Since he had become attached to Thatcher’s touch so quickly, the blanket was just the next best thing so he wouldn’t be too clingy.

“May I, um, ask about last night?” Thatcher worded carefully as to not upset Adam too much. “I-it’s okay if you’re not ready. I just-”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll try to explain to the best of my abilities,” Adam interrupted, trying to seem genuine since emotions had been difficult for him.

“This all kinda started a few days ago. Me and my… colleague, Jonah, were out doing something for a client. We were supposed to stay there for three whole nights, $500 a night. Can you even believe that? Like, who ever would have thought it was some elaborate trap to have you stick yourself in a basement to hear some shit that doesn’t even make sense? Even from your own mouth?”

Thatcher stared at him utterly confused. Adam had only noticed after a few moments of silence.

“Moving on from that since I’m jumping a bit too far ahead, we had a few disagreements on the place; my colleague wanted to leave but I had a sort of connection to the place somehow. I had even gone there once before with Sarah, in which after that whole thing I had to get my colleague as my new ghost hunting partner.”

“And your colleague was Jonah Marshall, was it not?”

Adam went dead silent. Thatcher got his answer from that.

“Understood. Uh, go on if you’re good with that.”

“Yeah… um, well. We kinda got into a huge fight on the second day, in which he brought up my mother and I just. Told him to leave if he really wanted to not be there. And he… did.

"I went down into that fucking basement expecting something amazing to happen. Something like my mom coming back or some shit. Nothing happened. All I got was more questions and a pissy attitude, which led me to just go searching for J- my colleague myself.”

Thatcher eagerly listened as Adam poured everything he had remembered, paying attention to every time his voice faltered and gave way to his true emotions. He even almost mentioned Jonah, which definitely confirmed Thatcher’s suspicions by that point.

“I found him by the car he stole earlier that day. Dead. I was too deep in an angry, nonhuman frenzy that I just took the car and left, not even shedding a proper tear for him.

Sarah and I had a fight about him, leading her to make me make some stupid memorial video for him. I didn’t wanna think about it, I didn’t wanna do it. I felt horrible, and her making me do that only made things worse. And I even logged off for a few hours after that because I just couldn’t handle it.

“And then he showed up.”

Thatcher perked up. Who’s “he” , he thought to himself, ever so curious as to what Adam could be alluding to.

“He… was the one who told me everything. Started rambling off about how he ‘held me in his arms’ or some dumb shit. I didn’t understand at first, but whatever he did to me made me feel so numb and lifeless. I couldn’t move. Not until he said… He…. told me…”

“Hey, you’re okay. If it’s too heavy for you, you can-”

“I’m not the real me.”

Thatcher held his tongue and listened. It was the only thing he could do as he was too far deep. He couldn’t get Adam’s now black eyes off of him, staring directly into his soul it seemed. Adam looked like he didn’t even breathe to speak his next words, staring Thatcher down like prey.

“He told me I was one of them. If Sarah hadn’t cut the bitch off I would have gotten more answers. But someone always has to stand in my way, don’t they, Lieutenant? ”

Thatcher stared into the orbs that occupied Adam’s sockets, frozen in place as panic rose within his body. He couldn’t move; no matter how much the training had taught him to fight, he could never push himself to. He could only pray that Adam didn’t do this all to kill him, that would just be absurd, right?

“Davis?”

A breath was taken that Thatcher didn’t know he needed. He blinked a few times to ground himself to his surroundings once more. He was still staring at Adam, but his eyes had returned to normal. He sighed in relief.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me…” Adam began to bury himself in his hands, curl into another ball and cry the embarrassment and shame away.

“No! No, no, no, no you’re okay, kid,” Thatcher quickly tried reassuring him, his body ready to hold Adam again at any time in case he needed a quick cooldown.

“I panicked, I… I didn’t know how to process everything, I tried killing myself in so many ways… None of them FUCKING WORKED!”

Adam’s form began to blur as his skin melted, his eyes and mouth becoming more prominent features on his face. His limbs began to elongate themselves again, and his skin even turned even paler than he already was. Thatcher dashed to the other side of the table, cradling Adam’s torso and head into his own. He softly ran his hands through the alternate’s hair, soothing him the best he could.

“Adam, please don’t be upset with yourself right now. I know you can’t control it, and I understand how painful it must be to have your whole identity stripped from you.”

“HOW WOULD YOU KNOW?! ” Adam screamed, his voice echoing throughout the station’s walls and back into the current room.

“The same night your mother died I almost lost my life to one of those things!”

Adam suddenly grew quiet, whimpers and sniffles being the only sound emitted from him as he slowly looked up at Thatcher.

“Her husband called me, asking for help… I should have known it was a trap. I lost a friend too, the only one I could trust. I left her behind to rot in that fucking house… I wouldn’t doubt she’s still there, waiting to exact her revenge on me.

"I couldn’t tell if I was a person anymore after I encountered that thing in the tunnels below Mandela. It took my face, my voice, my mannerisms, everything , and left me there to suffer. I went home that night feeling stalked, haunted, as I have been for the past 17 fucking years. If anyone on this fucking planet knows how you feel, it’s me. And I’m sorry that it has to be me…”

Neither had any words for the next few minutes, Adam shifting in and out of his human and alternate forms before settling on a mix of both. He wasn’t sure how he ended up like that, but he’d just deal with it later like he did all his problems. Thatcher suddenly carefully dropped his head onto Adam’s head, covering his face in the blonde’s curly hair.

“You knew her… ” Adam whispered, his voice wavering slightly.

“Not really. Barely got to even take her body for examination before I got chased out of that damn house.”

“Do you remember anything else from that night?”

Adam took his turn asking for Thatcher’s suffering as he had already explained his. And Thatcher reluctantly answered, lifting his head out of Adam’s hair before speaking.

“Kinda, I remember first walking into the room and seeing some creepy fucking guy on a TV on the floor before it immediately disappeared. Don’t know what that guy wanted or if he was even real at all.”

Adam’s eyes widened; he recognized the figure Thatcher was talking about. He just needed more info. “Do you remember what he looked like?”

“Not really, uuhh. Short and dark hair, permanent smile on his bastard ugly face, looked kinda creepy.”

“Did he look like some sort of weird entertainment guy?”

Thatcher paused. “…Yeah.”

Adam stared at Thatcher dead in the eyes once more but with a look more recognizable as confusion and concern than disdain. Silence filled the room once more, a common pattern between the pair at this point. Speaking so much they end up oversharing followed by a deafening silence as they process every word that was said. This time, however, neither party knew how to advance the conversation.

“Um, we’ll talk more later. Need more coffee?” Thatcher asked to break the silence, following his question with an awkward but reassuring smile.

Adam nodded and smiled back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Night came as fast as it left, the day being spent through joint work on cases that Thatcher suddenly gained the energy to look into once more, joking around with each other, a few video games in which Thatcher almost always lost, and staying in each other’s general company. After a whole range of emotions displayed by the duo throughout the day, both were spent and needed a nice, long sleep to prepare for the following day.

Adam had once again wanted to sleep next to Thatcher, and Thatcher gladly obliged. He felt that Adam was becoming too dependent on him too quickly, but he didn’t want to upset him at the current moment. Thankfully, the alternate fell asleep almost instantly, being overwhelmed with exhaustion with everything he’s had to deal with the past few days - hell his entire life. Thatcher himself was preparing to shut down for the night as well, making himself comfortable next to Adam and ensuring that Adam was also comfortable in his current position facing Thatcher.

“Wait.”

A voice… An actual voice called to him. It seemed dark and raspy, almost as if it was struggling to breathe.

“What…?” Thatcher squinted his eyes in reaction to the intruder. He darted his eyes around the room somewhat quickly to try and scan the area for any potential threats.

“Follow the static, Thatcher. Or if you’d prefer, the music. We have some things to discuss.”

A recording of a music box suddenly filled Thatcher’s ears, almost hypnotizing him to follow its melody. However, Thatcher quickly grabbed a small pocket knife he always kept handy before venturing out into the darkness, a sense of déjà vu hitting him.

He followed the strange melody to where he believed the source would be: his work computer. He carefully took a seat in the almost uncomfortable office chair as he stared into a blank, static filled screen, something he had only seen on old analog TV’s. He didn’t even notice that the music had faded or that a face had appeared on the screen until it started speaking.

“A song made for the girl lost in a land of wonder and inexplicable magic and absurdity, ruby slippers holding more power than any being in that dimension. A song describing how desperately she wished for a better life no matter that her life had been mundane at worst. A song that my son liked very much,” the voice began as if it were making a speech just for Thatcher to hear. It made him shiver at the thought.

“The slippers were meant to be silver, however, though they would seem dull against the colorful atmosphere of the set. My little boy never cared, his caretakers only put it on once to distract the little one before realizing he was entirely captivated by it. Who knew he would react so much when I played it for him again years later?”

“Who are you? What do you want? Why are you talking so much?” Thatcher inquired, anger rising with each question that slipped off his tongue.

“Simple, Lieutenant. I’m Adam’s father.”

The statement boiled Thatcher’s blood for reasons even he did not understand at the moment. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and disgust as he tried to search for words. The figure interrupted him before he could try to put together a single cohesive sentence in his mind.

“I’m the one that took him away. Although, it would have been for the greater good anyway. His caretakers never truly loved him, did they?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The man especially became more absent than the woman, though it’s quite ironic that she was meant to leave this plane of existence before him. The boy’s birth was a joint effort, but one must take more blame than the other, of course. It’s only human nature to push blame onto one party rather than accept the truth of reality. Which is quite funny considering-”

“Stop fucking jumping around everywhere and get to the damn point!”

“Ssshhhhh , you don’t want to wake him up now, do you?”

Thatcher went silent, biting his lip furiously before backing down completely. He looked away, malice burning in his eyes.

“Good. I’ve simply come here to warn you about what you’re doing. We’ve kept tabs on him to make sure someone doesn’t interrupt his ascension into reaching his full potential, his assimilation to become one of us .”

Thatcher felt suffocated by the atmosphere, wanting to back away from his monitor while the static kept him snugly in place, urging him to reach closer to it instead. He couldn’t move, and his breath felt hindered when nothing was stopping its regular flow.

“You… you’re the one who told him…” Thatcher choked out, his words careful and choppy.

“Indeed. Perhaps you remember me? It’s been a long while since I have seen your face, Mr. Davis.”

“Stop switching up how you call me, please just stick to one. And yes, I most likely do.”

“Would this give you a reminder, Thatcher?” the figure’s face warped spontaneously, and his voice changed alongside it. It sounded more cheery, more charismatic. It made Thatcher sick to his stomach when he fully realized he truly had been talking to who he thought he was.

“Yes… it does,” Thatcher practically breathed out. “And I hate it.”

“Good! I was worried it wouldn’t. Then something would reeaaally be wrong with you! However,” its face and voice returned to its previous state, “my warning still stands. We do not need people like you ruining his only chance to join us once again. To become a family.”

Thatcher slammed his palms against his work desk, standing up as he fumed with anger. “You are NOT his family! You things don’t care about people!”

“But he isn’t a person. Why would you care for something as dangerous to your kind as he is?”

“He’s not dangerous; he’s confused, he’s scared, he’s hurt. You hurt him, and he clearly hasn’t accepted the thought of being lied to his entire life, suddenly having his identity stripped away from him sending him into a spiral down through the deepest parts of Hell! I care because that’s human nature, you heartless fuck!”

The screen glitched for a mere moment, revealing the face had disappeared. The static still remained, however, sending Thatcher into a slight panic.

A hand had swiped him from behind, bringing him close to an itchy textured body. The hand’s texture alone threatened to slice Thatcher’s throat at any minute, almost puncturing his skin.

“I told you to be quiet, did I not? If you truly do not wish to hurt him, I suggest you shut your mouth before I make you, ” the figure threatened, squeezing the blood flow traveling to Thatcher’s head to make him feel faint very quickly. Thatcher nodded his head frantically.

“If I killed you right here, would it be too similar to your beloved 'guardian angel’s’ death?” it chuckled, the thought amusing it while only confusing Thatcher.

“How do you…”

“I watched the entire encounter. She died right in front of you, you know. The thing that followed you home hid the blood on his hands for 17 whole years. The blood of your angel coughing up the last bit of her life, his hands squeezing so tight her head almost popped out of place, her voice begging for mercy as she watched her murderer transform into you, making her believe you had betrayed her, all of which happened right before your very eyes.”

Thatcher squirmed, he couldn’t take any more of this thing’s rambling. What was worse was that the grip on his neck only became tighter. He began to try and slam his hands into the figure holding him hostage, pleading for it to release him.

“My final point is that if you mess with his head any more than you have, I’ll find a way to work around your necessity to Him and kill you myself.”

Thatcher was released, being pulled down into his seat to let him recover. The chair moved slightly away from the monitor due to the force, and Thatcher’s head was practically spinning without even spinning the chair. He took several deep breaths before the assailant spoke once more, now in front of him and out of the monitor.

“Or maybe you’d consider a compromise?”

Thatcher darted his eyes to the alternate, still slightly in a daze. “What…? Compromise?”

“I won’t have to kill you if you give him up. We’ll go our separate ways, and if He needs you to be in Adam’s presence again then you’ll know. Or maybe…”

The figure began stepping closer to its current victim, careful in not approaching him too quickly for its own liking. Thatcher followed its eyes as the distance between them shortened and shortened. Once it felt it was close enough, it leaned down to Thatcher’s face, revealing itself in full disgusting glory.

“We could raise him together?”

Thatcher’s heart sank. The skin moved in an unsettling manner, making Thatcher’s own skin crawl. The eyes were mismatched completely, one seeming to have popped out of its socket while the other would have been considered more of a lazy eye if Thatcher didn’t feel like he was being stared down by a predator. Its mouth was probably the most disturbing part, moving slightly slower than how it was speaking and sometimes dragging out certain sounds. The words came out so clean from its mouth, and yet it was like its mouth couldn’t keep up. Kind of like Adam when he screamed in agony…

Every part of him was screaming at him to run, to get Adam and take him far away from this county, from this state, from this whole damn country if he had to. But the fear - and the static - kept him in place to his dismay. He was trapped, required at that point to entertain the monster’s ideas.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice almost inaudible to how much he was shaking. He cursed internally at himself for that.

“You wouldn’t have to worry about death. You could be able to protect him while also helping him achieve his purpose. You could still be there for him. I could see the hope in your eyes every time he smiled. That’s how I was when I first held him in my arms.”

“But… I don’t understand. What would you want from me?”

“You could become one of us.”

Just from that sentiment, Thatcher realized what it meant: they’d replace him with the demon that followed him home. This thing expected him to be that stupid, huh? Was this also part of the other voice’s test? A test of resilience and intelligence? Part of him didn’t want to know, but he did know his answer to the question he was asked.

“No. To Hell with that,” he asserted, his voice deep and quiet as to heed the alternate’s previous warning. “I know what games you’re playing, and I’m not stupid if that’s what you think of me. You’re gonna have to think twice if you think you can deceive me .”

In that instant, the intruder retreated to the monitor, a look of disappointment trying to settle on its face.

“We’ll see when He puts his plan into play. I shall see you soon. Oh, and tell Adam his dear father, Stanley, says hello. Goodnight, Lieutenant.”

And with that, it was gone. The monitor shut off, the static was gone, and Thatcher was alone. He suddenly became so fatigued from having to rely on the static’s influence to keep him awake now that it disappeared. He slumped into his office chair and fell into a deep slumber, hoping that the voice from before didn’t interrupt his sleep once more.

[soubiapologist]

dogfight

you made your bed, now lie in it.

____________________________

characters: nisei, seimei, mimuro, mei, implied mimuro/nisei warnings: it's loveless whump use your imagination. is that what the kids call it. whump. i don't fucking know non-graphic (?) blood, abuse, physical assault, implied teeth trauma, implied drug and alcohol abuse, implied eating disorders, abandonment, animal death mention, religious imagery wordcount: 692 words other: this is like pseudo poetry psuedo stream of consciousness with some ambiguous perspective shifts, capitalization is intentional, idk i haven't written fic or really prose in years i hope this came out okay. smiles.

he took two teeth like communion, like pills he's taken before

(it's not so difficult to pill a dog if you wrap it in something sweet)

god watching from behind, from above

i don't know what's going on

an honest start

but i'm not afraid of you

the lies never stopped, though

and you glance back at master

(there's nothing you could do, even if you wanted to, and you don't.)

before you bolt ahead and your bodies collide

for the first time

was he always this light?

it's a little late to be asking that when you're on your back, on the ground.

it's raining and it's getting in your mouth and he tastes just like you always thought he would; the same as you

and you know that because you can taste yourself too as the dog bites down and can't let go

it's for your safety, can you tell yourself that? is that what the dog thinks?

but you can keep your teeth, and you will, you think, reaching up and tucking his hair behind his ear, like a child into bed

i'm sorry

a laugh overtakes the start of a sob, because you can't learn new tricks, you don't know those words; you were not taught those words.

i cannot understand if you don't sink your teeth in, that's what the collar is for, to protect me from you. it's just play, it doesn't mean anything, i've heard it before, i've heard it before, your barking, your warning

his instincts do not match yours, because you are alone

(there is no bite coming)

you pull back, and wipe him on your mouth as you try to stem the flow of wine that you swallow as well, and sea water parts the rest as you realize he tastes nothing like you always thought he would; the same as you

you're too young to be drinking like this

was he always this pale?

even with all his force, there's barely a weight on top of you, the same as his palor, and you wonder if the sun has followed the moon on nights like these for him; it's hard to tell what time it is when you're sitting in the dark waiting for a call, spinning out, the only voices you hear itinerant and surrounded by walls you can only traverse in static

God watching from behind, from above

and He's a man you know nothing about

you've never had to worship

you touch his bones as he ascends

not on purpose, but it's a thing you can't help but feel

(you've lost control of the feeling in your arms, gripping for anything to hold onto, you can't let go)

fabric can't hide it anymore, not when you're closer than ever before, there's no lie you can tell yourself when you can finally feel him in your hands

you wonder when the last meal you had with him was

(never)

a sip of tea stolen from your favourite mug, was it so precious?

(back to God)

a blow comes again on His behalf as he retreats

was that fun?

shaking assent.

and for a moment you do believe this is salvation for him.

because someone needs to save him

he's made himself so small

you missed him as he fell through the cracks

it was raining when you came and it's raining when you leave; he took his books and bags and so many small things you don't remember but you miss all the same, and you let him

so it washes away the last traces of him you'll ever see

and you go home and she asks you what happened

and you tell her and she says she never liked that dog

she understands that much, but she still doesn't understand it all

you try to explain to her why they have to put down the dog and she asks why dogs fight, and you say because they were bred like this and she asks why and you say because someone wanted a dog that fights and then they didn't.

[safarisaythings]

Also consider the midwest is often rows of flat flat land with stretches of just nothing inbetween

EXACTLY

Like imagine this senerio:

Your car or something breaks down in the middle of the midwest, and you are surrounded by nothing but miles and miles of fields. It's late at night and there aren't any other cars on the road. You decide to just sit and watch the stars for a bit when you start getting an uneasy feeling. You look over to the corn filled field, and you can't help but get the feeling of being watched. You'll never know whether you were or not. All you know is in the few seconds you were staring at the field, your car started working again, and as you are driving away, you swear you could see a silhouette of someone waving from the corn field.

The Midwest is creepy as hell, but they also have that midwest nice in 'em. Just remember, more farmland means more room for, in New York's words, "gardening"

(Also, sorry if this got too long for an ask- this is the first ask I have ever gotten that wasn't from one of my friends from my Discord server, so I'm very much new to this-)

[sgtcalhouns]

Kiss You

For the first time, Felix is feeling a little insecure about his height. Thankfully, Tamora knows what he needs.

Hello friends!! It’s been a while, but I’m back with some arcade-verse smut. This is an idea I’ve kicked around for a looong time, but @ask-icancraft-it’s recent fic All The Ways inspired me to finally put it in writing. @bashfulgnome also deserves a huge shoutout for helping me find some old fanart that I used as a reference to figure out how to position these guys.

In all his 30 years of existence, Fix-It Felix Jr. had never grappled with insecurity. Within the confines of his game he was the hero, beloved by all who knew him. He rarely had a reason to leave his game, but when he did, he was greeted fondly by everyone he came across, because everyone in the arcade knew that his game always threw the best parties. There had never been a reason for him to be anything other than confident and self-assured.

It wasn’t until Sergeant Tamora Calhoun entered his life that he first experienced that creepy-crawly sensation of doubt running up his spine. He was crazy about her, and nothing about her behavior indicated that she didn’t reciprocate his feelings. Despite their differences, they always had a wonderful time together. But, as he looked around at the other men in the arcade, he couldn’t help feeling a bit…inadequate. Tamora had always assured him that he measured up just fine, but as the physical aspect of their relationship progressed, their difference in height only became more apparent.

For the most part, they had found ways to work around this challenge in a manner that was satisfactory for the both of them. As a matter of practicality, they knew that there were some positions they would never be able to attempt in the course of their intimacy, but neither of them were too bothered by this. They took an active interest in pleasing one another and trying new things, and this was enough to satisfy them.

At least, until now.

Recently, Felix had found that his feelings for Tamora were rapidly expanding, settling into his heart in a way that was difficult for him to describe. It deepened every aspect of his relationship with her: the joy when she was near him, the ache he felt when she was away. His desire for her pulsed through him more desperately than he had ever experienced, and tonight, as the heat between them intensified, so, too did his frustration as they locked eyes and he was overcome with his desire to kiss her.

It was agonizing, being with Tamora this way, craving her kiss, and finding her soft lips just out of reach. His arms were hooked around her thighs for leverage as he thrusted into her, and even if he let go of her legs and leaned forward, he only reached as far as her chest. He couldn’t help but find it unfair—if he wanted to kiss her, he had to remove himself from her, to bring the moment to a halt, and he couldn’t bring himself to give in. Not when she was stretched out before him on the mattress looking more beautiful than anything he had ever seen. Her cheeks were perfectly flushed, her hair was tousled against the sheets, and that smile, he thought his heart might stop. She looked so relaxed and pleased, all because of him. No, he could never interrupt her satisfaction for his own selfish desires.

Her hand slid down her body and she reached two fingers down between her legs. Felix shivered as he watched her pleasure herself, his eyes flitting between her hand and her face. A moan slipped past those perfect lips and he felt her clenching around him. She cried out as she came undone, and he wondered for a moment if she was torturing him on purpose; before he could ponder it further, she sighed his name as she slowly made her way back down from cloud nine, her fingers still gently working her clit as the waves of pleasure began to subside.

Normally, this chain of events would be more than enough to pull Felix over the edge, but his mind was preoccupied with a barrage of self-loathing. A woman like Tamora deserved all the attention and affection in the world, and he couldn't give it to her in the way he wanted. Did it bother her as much as it bothered him?

Tamora must have noticed that something was off, because she opened her eyes and looked up at him with concern. His expression was almost pained, and she propped herself up on her elbows to get a better look.

"Felix?" she said. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he replied, casting his eyes down away from her. His pace faltered, but he was making every effort to appear as though everything was fine.

"Hey, stop," she said more firmly. He complied and withdrew from her, but kept his gaze locked on his hands, which began to fidget in the absence of activity. "It's obvious that something is bothering you. Tell me what's going on."

"It's nothin' serious," he answered, still refusing to meet her eyes. His cheeks burned hot with shame. "You're gonna think it's silly."

"If it's making you this upset, then it's not silly," she said. "Talk to me."

"It's just..." he sighed in frustration as he considered how he was meant to answer that question.

He was sitting, naked and still erect, between her legs. A hot ball of shame and embarrassment sat like a lump in his throat as he realized that he had to explain to Tamora that the reason he was so upset was because he was too short to kiss her during sex. That he had interrupted her pleasure due to his own insecurity. He wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole. When it became apparent that he would not be so lucky, he sighed.

"When we're... together like this..." he began, "there are moments when I look at you and feel so far away from you.”

Tamora opened her mouth to question him, but she saw the way his brows furrowed and he shook his head as he realized he wasn’t getting his point across the way he wanted.

“Just now, watching you… you looked so beautiful, Tammy, and I wanted more than anything to be close to you,” he explained. “But I can’t… I can’t reach you from here.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Tamora said gently. “I’m right here.”

“I know, but I—What I mean is—” his eyes screwed shut as his frustration finally boiled over. “I can’t kiss you while we make love. Not without puttin’ a stop to everything. I’m too short.”

“Oh, Felix.”

"I know kissing isn’t mandatory. I’m sure lots of couples choose not to, but I want to,” he explained. “I want to kiss you and feel connected to you in every possible way. The fact that I can’t just doesn’t seem fair.”

He still hadn’t looked up at her, but he could see the movement of her legs as she folded them underneath herself in order to sit up, and he could feel the weight shift on the mattress as she moved closer to him. Still, he refused to look up at her.

“And tonight I started thinkin’ too hard about everything, how you deserve all the pleasure in the world, and how maybe you could have that with someone a little taller.”

By the time he finished his thought, his voice had diminished to a near whisper. Tamora had never seen him look so defeated.

“Don’t say that,” she said. Her voice was soothing but firm. “I hate hearing you talk about yourself like that.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder and he finally glanced up at her, though his head was still angled down toward the mattress.

“Why didn’t you tell me this was bothering you so much?” she asked.

“It’s embarrassing,” he replied. “We were havin’ a nice time and I just ruined it.”

“You haven’t ruined anything,” she said. She chanced a playful nudge of his shoulder as she continued. “In case you forgot, I’m already pretty satisfied.”

He gave her half a smile and turned his head up to look at her.

“So it really doesn’t bother you that we can’t kiss and make love at the same time?” he asked.

“Who said we can’t?” she asked. “I don’t think we’ve ever really tried.”

For a moment, he looked confused by her statement, but after a moment it occurred to him that she was right. While he had made many attempts to reach her face during intercourse, they had never tried together because he had never expressed to her that he wanted to. She couldn’t help but chuckle at his stunned expression.

“Come here,” she said, leaning down to capture Felix’s lips in a kiss. He sighed and let himself relax into the affection. “Think you’re up to continue? I’ve got an idea.”

She glanced down at his member, which was still mostly erect. She was ready to bestow him with attention, but she didn’t want to push him after such an emotional conversation. He nodded, and she kissed him again as her hands found their way to his erection. Sitting up on his knees, he buried his hands in her hair as they kissed. Her soft hands worked him back up easily, and she smiled against his mouth at his small sounds of pleasure.

“I hope you know you’re more than enough for me,” she said, speaking softly against his lips. Her cheeks were flushed, and he couldn’t tell if that was a result of their activity or the vulnerable nature of her words. “You don’t need to be bigger or taller. I want you just like this.”

“Tammy…” he sighed.

He’d never experienced anything like this; for a moment, he thought he might cry. No one had ever said these things to him before, and to hear them like this from the person he cared most about was overwhelming.

“You ready?” she asked.

He nodded, and she released him, reaching behind her to stack a few pillows up against the headboard. She rested back against them, sitting up more than before.

“Come here,” she beckoned.

He obliged, placing himself between her legs. She took his hands and tugged him forward, folding her legs behind him. His hands rested on either side of her, and as he glanced up, he found himself closer to her face than he had ever managed before. Distracted by their proximity, he jumped when she reached for his member, guiding it to her entrance. He bit his lip as he slid up and down against her folds, teasing her for a moment before gently pushing himself into her.

For the first time, he could feel the huff of warm breath on his skin as Tamora sighed. As he started to move, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer to her, and from this angle, his head landed at her collarbone. When he lifted his head to look at her and found her bangs covering one of her eyes, he could easily reach to tuck her hair behind her ear.

And then she kissed him. They had made love many times and kissed more times than he could count, but finally experiencing them simultaneously lit him up from deep inside. This was the closeness he had always longed for; their chests were pressed together, he could hear the small sounds of pleasure that had always been imperceptible to him before, and her soft lips made his heart feel whole.

A deeper, more profound feeling that he couldn’t quite name began to make itself known. While he couldn’t clearly explain it to Tamora, he hoped she could feel it in his kiss, in the gentle touch of his hand cupping her cheek. He had been so worried to open up to her about his insecurity, but she had accepted and accommodated him without judgment.

Felix released her lips with a gasp when Tamora’s nails dug into his back. A desperate whine escaped the back of his throat as she pressed slightly deeper. His body reacted involuntarily to the sensation, his thrusts increasing in speed and intensity, and the pleased little sound she made right in his ear only spurred him on.

“Tammy Jean,” he huffed.

His hand slid down her body, palm coming to rest flat against her mound and allowing his thumb to stretch toward her clitoris. His touch was gentle, bearing in mind that she was probably still sensitive from her earlier orgasm, but there was a clear sense of purpose as he rubbed her in a circular motion. Her body jerked against his at his first touch, but soon her hips were moving in time with his finger as she chased the pleasure it brought.

“Oh, Felix,” she moaned in his ear.

She wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to worry about her, that she was fully satisfied and focused on him. But as he began lavishing her neck with messy, open-mouthed kisses—something he knew she enjoyed but had never quite managed during intercourse—she realized that this was just as important to him as being able to kiss her. That his worries were just as much about her as they were about him. His mouth arrived at the little hollow just above her left collarbone, one of her favorite spots, where gentle kissing became greedy sucking at her skin. Suddenly, he lifted his head, eyes burning with an urgent question.

“Can I leave a mark?”

One nod of her head was all he needed to duck back down to his task. Felix had only given her a hickey once before, and only after lots of encouragement and a specific request from Tamora. Her heart skipped a beat as she felt his hungry bite on her skin, and her toes curled as he followed with his tongue. He didn’t let up, sucking intently to ensure that there would be a mark when this was all over.

All the while, his thrusts as well as his thumb maintained a consistent rhythm, and before she knew it was coming, a second orgasm took her by surprise. This was enough to pull Felix away from her neck to pick his head up and watch as she came undone. He was getting close himself, and the rhythmic clenching of her walls around his member only pushed him closer, but he wanted to take a moment to enjoy this. For the first time, he felt like he was part of this, not just a spectator.

Seeing her this way, with her head thrown back in ecstasy, was so much better up close. Her chest heaved against his as she panted and moaned, and he could feel the heat radiating off of her as her skin flushed. He was once again overcome with the desire to kiss her, but this time, she wasn’t out of reach. Once she had come down from her peak, she leaned down to capture his lips in a greedy kiss as he eased her body through the aftershocks.

"I've wanted this for so long," he murmured against her lips. "It's perfect. You're perfect."

"It's not over yet," she replied with a grin. "Now it's all about you."

He wanted to respond, to make sure she knew that he didn't view their intimacy as transactional, that more than anything he just wanted to be close to her and give her the pleasure she deserved. However, any words that had begun forming in his mind were promptly erased when she scratched her nails across his back. His mouth opened in a soundless gasp, soon punctuated by a moan that came from deep in his chest.

"How's that feel?" Tamora asked.

"So good," Felix muttered. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."

She was more than happy to oblige to his request. Tonight's events had shed a new light on their sexual encounters, and for the first time, she made a point to simply be present in the moment, to witness and enjoy the buildup of his pleasure. The muscles in his back tensed after every scratch from her nails, and each time he shuddered against her she heard a whisper of her name. His brows knitted together as the sensations quickly pushed him to the precipice of his control.

"Harder," he groaned. "Please."

It had never been easy for him to express his desires, but after being so open and vulnerable with her, it suddenly felt possible to simply ask for what he wanted. She responded with enthusiasm, pressing her nails more firmly against his skin before pulling them across the canvas of his back. He responded with a desperate whimper as he was nudged one step closer to his release. She dug in for one last scratch for good measure and felt him spasm against her in response. His moans were all too satisfying as he finally fell over the edge, the crease in his brow relaxing as his body gave way to pleasure.

Before Felix even had a chance to ask, Tamora's lips were on his, and he sighed blissfully against her lips as he spilled into her. His fingers tangled in her hair and his thumb brushed gently against her cheek as he floated back down to reality. He lingered for a long moment before breaking the kiss, nuzzling his nose against hers.

"That was incredible," he sighed.

She kissed him again before responding.

"I'm glad we found a way to make it work," she said. "And I hope you know you can talk to me when something’s on your mind. You don’t have to wait until it’s making you miserable.”

“I know,” he replied. “Thank you for being so understanding. I didn’t know how badly I needed to have that conversation, but I’m so happy we did.”

“Me too,” she said. “Because I have to agree with you, that was pretty great. I think we’ll have to do this more often.”

He smiled bashfully at her comment, but he couldn’t hide his enthusiasm as he nodded in agreement.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

They shared another tender kiss as they came down from their blissful state. Soon they would need to get up so that Tamora could check the scratches on Felix’s back and they could both get cleaned up for bed. But for now, they could simply savor this moment of newfound closeness in the afterglow. This moment, completely surrounded by her, was more perfect than anything he could’ve imagined. And, as it occurred to him that this wouldn’t be the last time he got to experience this, he couldn’t help but smile. This was only the beginning.

[hoodssery]

Recommending Video Essays #2

Still feel bad, here’s another one.

Recommendation: In Search of a Flat Earth by Folding Ideas (https://youtu.be/JTfhYyTuT44)

If you spend much time on the internet at all, Dan Olson's work on his channel Folding Ideas is required reading. The obvious recommendation from his channel is Line Goes Up – The Problem With NFTs. I would argue that this single video alone did more damage to the reputation of NFTs and the crypto-sphere than any thing else in recent memory, and most likely completely destroyed NFTs as an emerging institution at the peak of it's popularity. This is a truly remarkable feat, and speaks volumes to the quality and power of Dan's writing. Despite the insane impact of Line Goes Up, my choice for recommendation is still In Search of a Flat Earth.

[SPOILERS FOR THE VIDEO. IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE VIDEO YET, SERIOUSLY GO AND WATCH IT]

In Search of a Flat Earth would be my recommendation if the video was only the first half of the video. But the video pushes itself even higher by drawing a very real link what used to be the Flat-Earthers of Facebook, and now rising right-wing hardcore accelerationist movements, like Q-Anon and it’s descendants, that are gaining traction not just in the US but all around the world now, making the video more relevant now than it was in 2020. The video also gains bonus points for having the hardest final line of a video essay ever.

Folding Ideas is a very easy channel to recommend as a whole. More required reading recommendations are:

-Line Goes Up – The Problem With NFTs, which I already explained well enough I feel (https://youtu.be/YQ_xWvX1n9g)

-The Future is a Dead Mall – Decentraland and the Metaverse, a very interesting critique and first hand account of the already failed future the Web 3.0 has provided, and the failures of corporatization of the digital space. (https://youtu.be/EiZhdpLXZ8Q)

-Annihilation and Decoding Metaphor, is a critique of “Ending Explained” content on Youtube, a beginner's guide to decoding metaphor, and a breakdown of Annihilation. (https://youtu.be/URo66iLNEZw)

[pony-town-skinz]

not a request, but do you have any tips for making coattails or anything close?

this is a toughy!! it isn't perfect, but this is the concept i came up with:

here's the breakdown:

first step!! make sure the "allow custom outlines" box is checked if it isn't already

this is to change the outline colors so the coattail looks like one piece rather than three :p OKAY now we are ready :D

i used the medium length skirt with these patterns and colors:

colors 1-5 are be the coattail color, and colors 6-8 match the color of the legs. the color outlines for colors 5-7 match the original color...BUT, there is another option for color outline 7 to match the legs better:

this part is hard to get exact, so usually i just settle for "close enough not to notice" :P what you wanna do is take the slider and move it down until it looks the same as the leg color:

yahoo!! that looks better :D now it's tail time

i used the first tail in the last row. the tail is the same color as the coattail, however, you'll have to make it a bit lighter to match

moving on to the shirt!!

i used the fifth shirt with the last color pattern. the sleeves don't matter; they can be whatever you want :)

colors 3 and 4 should be the same as the coattail and so should the outlines. the colors line up perfectly with the skirt!! EASY PEASY.

pants time!! the pants are optional tehe

you can use either of the long pants, or you could use one of the back leg accessories

make sure colors 6-8 match the pants/leg accessories. again, you have the option of making the color 7 outline darker, which is what i did ^-^

tada!! coattail cape thingy achieved!!! hopefully this helped, anon :) if you have any questions, feel free to ask

[mental-jhinstability]

JhinThresh server encourages my High Noon obsession, more at noon

Another ramble by a gay cowboy, about gay cowboys, for my gay (cowboys in spirit) friends.

Some NSFW, nothing directly explicit but there's some level of detail. OOC as always but I've been informed I'm based so... hopefully it's based this time, too?

This specifically is about them being drunk. To start, I headcanon Jhin as an emotional drunk (imagine him getting all emotional about his horse loving him too and practically crying in front of a probably sober Thresh who finds this adorable and jealousy-inducing, because Jhin should giving HIM all that attention) and Thresh as a more relaxed drunk--as in he gets a little more loose-lipped. This will also involve my bartender High Noon Jax, because why shouldn't it. We all know these idiots cannot do anything about their feelings without being beaten over the head with a lamp.

More of another "things I wanna write but probably won't" than a headcanon ramble, but whatever. Jhin comes in to the bar, and Jax already has his first drink (of four) ready by the time he's even at the bar. And, of course, being the weirdo bartender; Jax is already asking him if he's asked out Thresh yet. Giving advice, teasing him. Jhin doesn't respond much, just finishes his drinks and gets out as quick as possible. But now there's an issue; he's a bit drunk and now he has Thresh on his mind. Given that I said he's a more emotional drunk earlier, this is a much bigger issue than he thinks it is. He just heads to the barn, because really what else is there to do when you're a drunk cowboy (aside from fucking and/or killing)?

Thresh is there. He watches as Jhin cries over his horse, talks to it. He's jealous for a few minutes. The horse is getting all this attention, and not him? And then Jhin asks his horse what he should do about his “weird feelings” for a certain man. He doesn't mention Thresh's name, but now Thresh is even MORE jealous. Who's this other guy stealing his victim slash weird crush? Unforgivable. I haven't really imagined much past this, and I'm no good with smut, but Thresh probably gets a little drunk himself, reveals himself to Jhin, who is now cagey and cold to Thresh due to not wanting to admit the guy he loves was him, and then Thresh fucks him because he's jealous. Maybe involving a riding crop. And Thresh's chain/rope/thing. And possible admission of feelings. Who knows.

And a second part… flirting. Their flirting is really weird, because they don’t. They just do a LOT of homoerotic touches and things for each other. Both of them realise this, but neither rationalise it correctly and think the other doesn’t think it’s homoerotic. They think they’re enemies/rivals/begrudging friends, despite both of them feeling attached to the other. I went over the physical homoerotic touch aspects in both of my previous rambles, but I guess I’ll go for other ways here.

Thresh tends to braid Jhin’s horse’s hair the same way he always does it. He doesn’t do a particularly good job and Jhin always scolds him and says “that’s not how you do it, you fool” etc etc until he’s giving Thresh a lecture on how to braid hair. This goes on until Jhin ends up just grabbing Thresh’s hands and “guiding him” (aka just doing the whole thing for him) through it. Thresh knows full well how to braid hair after the first time; but he continues to do it just so he has Jhin’s full attention. As I’ve mentioned he cannot rationalise this in a normal way (“This is torture because I’m taking his time and energy away from more important things, to make him easier to break”) and neither can Jhin. He likes teaching Thresh but he’s not sure why (it’s because he likes feeling in control, as well as the feeling of having Thresh as a captive audience) and instead chooses to think it’s just because he likes being correct. It’s flirting, just nonverbally.

On the same note, Jhin tends to make an effort to argue with Thresh over things. Anything, regardless of how monotonous or how pointless the argument is. He likes getting an anger reaction out of Thresh. He finds it hot (which he mistakes for just being an adrenaline addict; they’re not all buddy-buddy so he figures it’s only natural to get worked up by your enemy/rival getting angry at you). He gets genuinely upset when Thresh doesn’t react or argue back or even concede. He wants something other than constant teasing or silence, and when he doesn’t get that something, he gets a bit fussy and usually ends up touching Thresh in some way to rile him up. Sexually or non-sexually, it doesn’t matter. It gets a reaction and he gets to touch Thresh, so it’s a win-win.

If we combine the two, drunk flirting. Jhin gets emotional, so with enough provoking from Thresh usually you can get a flirty comment—albeit vague and a bit unorthodox—from him. He still tries to maintain a mask of indifference or hatred towards him when drunk but he falls on his face and ends up letting a few things, whether they be emotions or words, slip. Thresh, being loose-lipped, is usually the one to end up very explicitly flirting with Jhin when drunk. Compliments his body, calls him cute and pathetic, says he wants to hear him scream. He, of course, has some level of plausible deniability with these comments when sober, but when drunk he doesn’t tend to defend himself. He never admits it’s flirting, but he’ll not say no. Oh also they both get horny when drunk so if they’re later in to their homoerotic rivalry they probably fuck. Up to you.

Also… please read the tags of this post. There’s a few little related side tangents in there, if you’re interested.

[tabbyclaw]

YES, AT LONG LAST, IT IS FINALLY HERE. The sequel to Gin and Bear It, and part two of what I’m calling the Pub Crawl trilogy. In which there are consequences to Prudence and Corazon’s actions, and not just for the two of them, and everyone else has Opinions. Chapters will probably go up every third day unless a more sensible schedule presents itself, and there may actually be six chapters because I’m still waffling on whether to break one of them up, but it is done and ready to go and I am so relieved that it’s finally out there.

[ishotforthestars]

'play my song' - chapter 9!

'Play my song' - The one where Simon is a night time radio show host and Wille has trouble sleeping.

Read chapter 9 here.