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lokativa · 9 months

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People calling Hobie×Miles (punkflower) shippers proshippers as if we didn't ship them for longer than the movie even came out will always be crazy to me.

I've seen lots of people sending threats, or reporting people because they made punkflower, goldenflower (pavxhobie), ghostbyte (gwenxmargo), flowerbyte (margoxmiles), etc, arts or videos. Going to assume that it isn't because most of these ships are POCs ships, there's just literally no point to do that.

First of all, there's no confirmation of hobie's age. If ur basing urself of that one interview, then it was of the CONCEPT of hobie, and even so remember it was only one person who said it. Its heavily implied thats he's a teenager throughout the movie. (Also in the art book, its said that he's slightly older than Miles).

For the thing about him going to the pub and all, minors can and will go in pubs, (not saying that its always legal) are yall living under a rock or just dense on purpose? Teenagers do wtv the fuck they want, even when theyre not allowed to. Youre all going to tell me teenagers respect the rules of not drinking and go to clubs becuz theyre underage? Come off it. Also hobie literally merked his president and u think he'd draw the line at drinking alcohol as a minor? HA.

Aside from that, to be fair to everyone, the directors keeps on changing what they're saying about hobies age, one day they'll say and imply he's a minor and the next second say he's an adult. It's like they all have different idea of this character's age. So, nothing is really comfimed, and his age is really up to interpretation.

Now that we're past THAT point, the other kind of people talking about his age are people saying "oh but he looks old" "that man is most definitely 30yo" "there's no way he's underage" things of the sort, u get it. And I'm just over here like??? Why is it impossible for you to think that this guy could be a teen? Is it the air? The wrinkles? What makes it seem like for you that there's no way he could be around the other teens' age? And 30??? Cmon. People often assume black people are older than they look, which is a universal experience for all of us. Did none of u ever see a blk teen who doesnt have a baby face? Because thats literally what hobie looks like to me. To others we can seem too "mature" for our age, or just look too "old" to be the age we say we are, so is it really impossible for him to be a teenager? Think about it.

(Speaking of him being black, this discourse turned into some kind of racist thing that honestly was not unexpected at all. Yall come over here shitting on people talking and educating u about a character they relate to cuz hes like them, and the representation is making them go bonkers. I don't know why yall can just sit ur arses and listen for a bit, its not that difficult tbh. And dont get me started on the mischaracterisation of his character. Marking him as "an angry black man"? Really? Be. Fucking. Original.)

Same goes with Margo?? Yeah in the comics she's in college, but cmon now u guys know damn well she's a teenager in atsv😭. Gwen is also much older in the comics but i never see anyone talk about it, so what does that mean???The only reasons I can see that you all don't want Miles & margo to be together is because you're all stuck on the milesxgwen ship. News everyone, other ships exist, not everyone is going to like the same ships as you, so either move on or stop being on the Internet.

Also, the thing about pav being 13 is bonkers, where'd u even get that from? I need to know asap. "Oh, but he has a gf!" Yeah? Well he has two hands. (Idk why u all act as if that has ever stopped anyone)

Everything just seem like a race thing to me tbh.

The movies might be inspired from the comics, but not everything is going to be 100% the same. For exemple: gwen is 2 yrs older than Miles in the comics, but in movies she's only 15 months older, Jess Drew is white in the comics and black in the movie, Miguel O'hara is white passing in the comics, compared to his version in atsv where he has brown skin, lyla's disign is also different.

You get it? Things are going to differ as much as things are going to be the same, because (get ready!!) this is the multiverse! Just as earth-616 is just one universe in all the marvel comics, atsv is another universe.

All in all, im not saying u can't view them as adults, or wtv u want, thats ur interpretation, but don't go around being pissy at people around u cuz they have different point of views.

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satoruwiki · 2 months

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Please could ya write fem reader providing satoru aftercare?

cw: suggestive content; not proof read; implied fwb; fwb to lovers, perhaps?

n/a: i tried my best, sorry if it wasn’t what you requested 😭

Jaw-slacked, Satoru grunted in shattered breaths, the waves of pleasure washing over him. He flopped down beside you, with bated breath and feeling his heart about to burst out of his rib cage. God, I could do this over and over again, he thought, a satisfied smile plastered on his flushed face and euphoria coursing through his veins.

Satoru turned to look at you—the same look of fulfillment drawn on your face, half-lidded blissed-out eyes, a faint and tender smile playing even with your messy hair, hell you looked so, so...

"Phew! That, that was..." Satoru tried to say, the air and words failing him to describe what he felt, drawing a shy laugh from the both of you as you caught your breath, "That was really good, thank you. I really needed that."

You scooted closer to him until your head rested on his chest, and your skin was grazing each other; you could feel the heat emanating from his body and smell the faint scent of sweat and his cologne. You gave him a short kiss as a form of your welcome, "Anytime, you were amazing too," you said, reaching for his hand and pressing a soft kiss on his knuckles, that simple act of the plumpness of your lips touching his skin so softly had Satoru's breath caught in his throat, the butterflies he felt in his stomach fluttering wildly, "so, you don't feel stressed anymore?" you asked, your velvety voice tickling his hand.

Satoru took your hand, his slender fingers intertwining with yours. Cute, he thought, seeing how small your hand was compared to his. "Not at all, you're quite good at this... stress relief thing," he jokes, earning a small snort from you.

Then, a silence settled between you—the pad of your fingers skimmed over his bare skin, drawing patternless strokes on his chest. Satoru didn't know why, but it felt good to be in silence with you; he didn't feel pressured to bring up a remotely interesting topic to fill the lack of sound in the room. Just having you close to him as you traced his skin and he played with a few strands of your hair made him feel good inside. I could get used to this, he thought. Though of course, Satoru knew the kind of relationship you two had.

"How did it go with that guy?" Satoru broke the silence. He didn't even know why he was asking, maybe because he saw you smiling so much that time you went for drinks, so much so that you stopped paying attention to him, laughing at whatever that guy had sent you. Just remembering it, he felt a bitter taste in his mouth, a subtle grimace creeping up his face.

"What guy?" you looked at him confused, "Oh, you mean the one I was texting with last week. Nothing, otherwise I wouldn't be here in your bed," you replied nonchalantly, your gaze fixed on the faint strokes made by your fingertips, ignoring to the tones of jealousy his words carried.

"I'm still available for you if that's what you're worried about," you added, returning your gaze to his chest. Satoru frowned, if that was what he was worried about? What-

"You think I just wanna have sex with you?" he asked you, puzzled, his words making it clear that he was somewhat offended by what you were implying. Your eyes switched back to him; words weren't needed to understand what you were thinking, and that frustrated him even more, "I mean, yeah, I like it but it's not only-" Satoru sighed heavily, trying to find the right words without giving himself.

Not yet, Satoru, he reminded himself. "It's not just sex. You're more than that for me," he said sheepishly, biting the inside of his cheek to not spill everything and potentially ruin his chance with you.

A soft smile tugged the corner of your lips after hearing his words. You brought your hand up to his neck, pulling him closer for a kiss, weaving your lips against his silken smooth. Satoru closed his eyes, letting himself be carried away by the honey-sweet kiss, a small sound of satisfaction escaping his throat. Pitifully for him, you pulled away—too soon for it to lead to anything else again. "That was sweet, coming from you," you said, teasing him a little as you got off the bed, covering your nudity with the bed sheets and heading to his shower.

"Hey! I can be sweet when I want to," he replied, following you to the bathroom. His arms encircled your waist, hugging you, "can I join you?" he murmured coyly, dropping soft kisses into your neck, tickling your skin.

"Only if you promise you won't try anything else."

"Can't promise you that," he said, a mischievous smirk decorating his face.

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orion4ever · 6 months

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Omg my gosh. Can i request step 2 tamarack and qiu with a gn mc/reader who is like so smitten with them. And i mean always looking at them with the biggest heart eyes, always lingering with touches and always taking any chance to touch them, doing almost anything for them? They’re so obvious 😭

Author’s note: Hello , Thanks for the request! I found this idea super cute so I hope you enjoy!

Pairing(s): Qiu Lin x MC and Tamarack Bauman x MC

🍂🗒️

Qiu Lin🗒️

They catch on quickly and are smug about it

Qiu probably teases you a little about being so obvious

(They are a hypocrite, Qiu is also head over heels for you. They’re just better at hiding it.)

But deep down inside Qiu’s soul, I feel like they would think MC was just joking around

Giving them love-filled looks, giving them lots of hugs and always having a hand on either their arm or back, etc.

Yeah, just some big practical joke that you’re pulling

If you're the type to be really direct and either straight up tell them that they were like a angel sent down to earth because their greatest sin was being so amazing and their punishment is to roam this cruel earth, reminding everyone who looks at them that they could never compare-

Or just…yuuno. Implying that you have a thing for them

That works just as effectively

Qiu has a soft spot for you, so their touch always lingers on you as well.

Qiu and you were sitting around their hideout. They weren’t feeling it at all that morning and wanted to skip. You decided to give them some support by skipping as well, to keep them company.

Mx. Qiu Lin always felt comfortable around you and was happy with your company.

Qiu laid their upper body on the hideout while their lower half hung off it. You were sitting crisscross applesauce while doodling in a notebook, which you should’ve been using to write in your chemistry class right about now.

Qiu took notice of this and asked. “Are you taking notes on something?” They teased a little, sitting up, using their elbows to prop them up.

“Just doodling, Qiu,” you chuckled.

"Oo, lemme see that, please,” Qiu asked, now fully sitting up to properly talk with you.

“….Ok! Just don’t peek at the other pages.”

Qiu snorted while rolling their eyes. “No promises.”

You gave them the notebook, and they looked at the drawing you were working on; it was of a few characters from shows you enjoyed and detailed trees.

Qiu nodded and then flipped the page.

“Wha- , Qiu.” You said , crossing your arms with a fond smile.

“Sorry , I did say no promises.” Qiu started before faltering when they saw the page.

While this page also had drawings of trees and a big, detailed sparrow, a good chunk of the page was occupied with a sketch of Qiu.

They took notice of how you flattered and highlighted their features

their eyes when they crinkle slightly, and their shiny hair.

The teenager took notice of how you even added a little heart near the sketch.

“Oh.” Qiu said, a little blush forming before they closed the notebook. “You're really good at drawing, Y/N.” They complimented.

“It's easy when you have a good muse.” You sighed lovingly.

Tamarack Baumann🍂

*twirls her hair* omg, really?

I think Tamarack would be oblivious to it.

She probably thinks you are just really friendly

It mainly stems from her insecurity issues. I mean, how could someone as great as you ever like her? Right?

If anyone told her that you were making heart eyes at her, then she’d think they were trying to pull a prank or something

If you were to heavily hint at her that you had a massive crush on her, then she’d probably think you were being silly

It drives everyone insane, like tearing hair out and clawing out the walls.

Tamarack does have a crush on you too; it's just that her underlying issues with feeling like an outcast make her feel undeserving of you.

You just have to remind and reassure her that you do have a huge crush on her and that she does deserve love.

It was late in the evening, and Tamarack was sitting in her room.

She couldn’t sleep today; her mind wouldn’t let her. She was stressing a little and overthinking about an event her orchestra had.

Tamarack was talented; the way she played was different and had a sort of uniqueness to it. She didn’t think the same, though.

Tamarack was about to try and sleep again when a pebble hit her window, startling her.

"Oh, oh.” She quieted down, remembering that her grandparents didn’t have her problem and were fast asleep in the other room. She made her way to the window and opened it to see something in the dark.

It was you.

“Y/N? What are you doing? It's so late.” Tamarack called down as quietly as she could without it turning into a mumble.

“I have something to show you! I know you can’t sleep right now, and I can’t either." You replied. “It will be quick, I promise!” They motioned for the orange-haired girl to come down.

Tamarack looked skeptically but thought that going outside might help her sleep—nothing like a calm nature walk with your neighbor to help.

It didn’t take long for Tamarack to creep down the halls and out the door.

When she came down, you started to walk, motioning for her to follow you. She followed you to your part of the woods.

You crouched down, and Tamarack finally asked after being silent. “What are you looking for?”. You smiled at her and replied. “Just crouch down and see.”

She did and gasped; it was a bunny nest, and a little group of bunnies were all sleeping. “Oh my god! Oh my god, bunnies,” Tamarack said excitedly, cooing at the baby bunnies.

"Cute right? As soon as I found them, I knew you would want to see them too." You smiled, watching Tamarack with sparkles in your eyes. "I-thank you for showing me." Tamarack calmed down a little and was intent on just watching the bunnies. "The bunnies remind me of you, cute and cuddly." You turned to Tamarack with a warm blush on your cheeks.

"..Pft, OK, you jokester." Tamarack deflected with an even warmer blush.

"....."

#tamarack baumann #our life now and forever #fanfic #qiu lin #olnf mc #olnf qiu #olnf #olnf tamarack #orion fic #orion4ever #gb patch #our life qiu #our life tamarack

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jotun-design-party · 4 months

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that's it for jötun design party! i had so much fun seeing everyone's designs. the most difficult part was picking the winners, but i got there in the end! here are the winners, why i picked them, and the prizes they won!

as i will not be using this account anymore, i'll leave this as the pinned post and link to This Post as well as the #orientalism search for anyone who may stumble upon this blog in the future ❄️

Jötun Design Party Winners

First Place

Prize: full-body drawing of a character (original or otherwise) of their choice. I have your discord, and will contact you when I have the time to start and complete your drawing!

@therese-lokidottir

elegant and cohesive, it's clear that a lot of thought was put into the world and culture of jötunheim. every design is distinct and filled with personality while still maintaining a singular aesthetic. looking at these designs together, it's easy to imagine how the characters might interact with each other and their vibrant world.

Second Place

Prize: half-body drawing of a character (original or otherwise) of their choice. Please message this tumblr with your preferred method of communication (Discord, Instagram, or Tumblr itself) and I will contact you when I have the time to start and complete your drawing!

@ak800

looking at this design, it's easy to tell how much love, time, and effort was put into it. with elements that mirror loki's canon moteifs altered in ways that feel cozy, it's undeniable that there was a lot of thought put into the jötnar as a people. they mirror asgard in a way that directly contrasts the claims we see the aesir make of them, while still feeling like a separate and distinct culture with their personalized magic, unique horns, and clear social dynamics

Third Place

Prize: bust-shot drawing of a character (original or otherwise) of their choice. Please message this tumblr with your preferred method of communication (Discord, Instagram, or Tumblr itself) and I will contact you when I have the time to start and complete your drawing!

@corvusartchronicles

while deceptively simple, this design is thoughtful and paints a very different picture of jötunheim than we are used to seeing in canon. this design implies a combination of mythologies, which we are very used to in marvel, while giving love and thought to a vivid world of religion which is not often given the same respect as norse or greek mythology. protected from the weather in a way that would not make a temperature-sensitive frost giant overheat, loki's design is full of love for both fantasy, and the very real people who often inspire it 💞

it means the world to me that as many people participated as they did and i really hope that this contest helped make this fandom a more inclusive space in some way

picking the winners for this was SO DIFFICULT. so under the cut, i have also enthused about some of the submitted designs because i wanted to be able to share my thoughts on more of them. i'm so sorry that i wasn't able to get to everyone!!

treacheroustrickster

all of those shades of green? i am in love

red tichel!!! was this a callback to loki's red hair in mythology? I AM IN LOVE EITHER WAY!!!

i know it's based on a canon design and russian ashkenazi fashion but the hair jewelry just looks so in-place here. if it was cold enough outside that i needed to layer my clothes then i too would prefer to wear my metals in my hair where it wouldn't feel cold against my skin

newsted

this one specifically is just so ROYAL to me. far more than most of the entries! it has my heart

the riding pants >>>

the fingerless gloves >>>>

this design, with the minimal layers of clothing mixed with the warm cloak, makes me feel like it's designed to keep loki protected from the cold winds that comes with riding horses at high speeds in the winter

vvviktor

NY FRIEND I LOVE THE DETAILS

the embroidery on the sleeves

and the idea of loki in bronze instead of gold is one that i adore. i associate gold so heavily with asgard AND with loki that whenever i try to design jötun lokis, it's incredibly difficult to pick whether to use gold or not. bronze is the PERFECT solution to this

also shut up the feet literally are not bad

du-ed

HOOVES!!!!!!

okay cuteness aggression aside i think this is such a smart idea for the jötnar.

it helps with that balance of showing them in minimal clothing to get across their lack of sensitivity to the cold while also actually protecting them from the snow they are likely at least knee-deep in half the time

like yes. just yes

of COURSE they would look like this it just makes sense to me

imreaallyasorry

look at this. JUST LOOK AT IT. what more do i need to say

its perfect. i will be following you on my new account

this is the cutest thing i've seen in my entire life

also the staff/scepter is so cool, it's gorgeous, that's MY moon queen and magic theatre

unityrain24

this one is SO COOL, it's my absolute favorite out of the designs you submitted.

it looks so warm and sleek, and the idea that travel wear is so different from everyday wear makes me wonder just how harsh the conditions on the planet are.

i'm an absolute sucker for designs that are distinctly alien like this and it has my heart i love it so so much

#jotun loki #jötun loki #jotun design party #marvel #frost giant loki #jotun loki fanart #loki fanart #loki art #loki of jotunheim #jotun form #jotunn loki #marvel loki #loki fandom #marvel fanart

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alavestineneas · 3 months

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The star reborn

pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader summary: But most importantly, her eyes. Bloodshot. Sharp. Intelligent. The eyes he tried so hard to ignore, the eyes he will undoubtedly try as hard to forget—they are his eyes, even if the colour is different. Inside them, there's nothing of the person he painted or conditioned her to be—those eyes are neither of prey nor of a sheep. No, the dreamy, unblinking orbs are the curved mirrors reflecting the truth he fears to control. warnings: canon-typical violence, narcissism, character death, implied sex, implied/referenced suicide word count: 3,5K

PART 1 IS HERE

author's note: hiiii! chapter 2 is finally here!! please let me know what you think of it in the comments - I did leave my comfort zone a little with this one. also, it is kinda angsty - be sure to be in a right headspace before reading it. Love you - enjoy!!

The lights above her head shine with dull, warm colours, casting their heavy shadows on the green, heavily painted walls. The silver lining of the ceiling opposes almost sickening stuffiness. YN's eyes follow it through half-opened lids: hot and cold, the contrast so vibrant it hurts already irritated senses. Was it alcohol? The half-full bottle of sugary liquor stood as if trying to hide, beside the gigantic bed. It couldn't be; her body was long used to the fire spreading through its small canals. The feeling, although equally unpleasant, was different—like a hidden bruise she took too long to notice, its purple hands stretching down her abdomen.

It was supposed to be just a one-time thing, a job she could handle without any complaints—like she did every time. Maybe it was, but soon one time turned into twice a week, then whenever he felt like it. It was good, sensing the want, and need every time his figure appeared at the doorframe—almost too good. Staining her lips with taste, his taste, sending her head round and spinning. A twisted carousel with countless bed sheets, counters, and extravagant salons of the latest cars instead of smiling animal figures.

Coriolanus's breath was hot on her skin; his whispers marked it with unreadable praises that YN knew he didn't mean—they still landed right on her chest, sinking their way into her lungs and clouding the air her brain desperately needed. He curses and swears, so far from the professional persona he puts on every time he finishes. The feeling of cold, long fingers on her hips pulling YN's body closer turned into electric-like impulses, crashing into her flesh and mixing with the rhythm of her poor, booming heart.

It's easy to guess the patterns of his movements, his broad shoulders covering almost the entire room from her eyesight—a minute more, and all of YN's vision would be taken by the knitted blonde brows and silk-like lips. Coriolanus's eyes draw motifs on her bare body, drinking everything down to the slight twitches of her legs, but never meeting her own. She almost feels sad about the fact; after all, she deserves to see how they grow dark, changing from sky-like blue to almost sapphire, heaving along with his breathing.

His hand changes its position, clasping YN's throat instead of the bedframe. It's brutal and animalistic to feel him holding onto the last bits of self-control to not let his guard down completely, in an attempt to regain the power back. YN closes her eyes—the sensation of his trembling limb is poisoning her insides with the sweetest taste of fear. The heartbeat in her temples, echoing in the empty chamber of her chest—the tempo of prey running from its hunter, the pace of the chase of an illusive prize. She feels Coriolanus twitch, the grip tightening along with her before finally relaxing. Caught. Eaten.

She doesn't mind the feeling of heaviness his body seems to plant in her own; he lays his head near, chest rising and falling, the smug, satisfied ghost of a smirk lingering on his swollen lips. YN doesn't remember when exactly she became content with it; it seems something inside of her has always craved him. Coriolanus squints his eyes under the light of the ceiling lamps, but all she sees is a wolf. A hunter sizing up the sheep before sinking his white, pearly teeth in the soft waves of flesh. Now, he is full, although no one knows for how long. YN guesses the hunger never entirely goes away.

Hers doesn't. She devours until she's sick, and does it again, again and again. His touch is too much, and YN wants to leave, hide, and scrub it off until her fingers bleed—and at the same time, she craves it more than anything. If he is a hunter, what does that make her? Prey. Deer. But does the prey have teeth as sharp as she does? Does she bite as often, tearing her way to survival? Maybe, and maybe not—YN is never in the habit of putting a label on her head and eating at it until there is nothing left of her but a hollow shell.

''Is there something wrong?''

YN almost cringes at the sound of her voice; its sound travels the room, circling the bed she was lucky to call her escape before finally landing on the tip of Coriolanus's tongue. He doesn't turn to her, taking in the ball of nerves she called a question before answering.

''The reviews of Games become more and more disappointing—game makers, although they change each other quickly, don't bring anything new. People don't want to watch.''

The hum of understanding escapes YN's dried lips before she can think twice about it. Coriolanus leaves her mind a dessert, an arena she thought she left behind, left as a victor, making her fight for existence once more. His next words prove it.

''You gave a show with all the weaponry skills, especially because they aren't typical for your district. How?''

She shouldn't feel pride in what sounded more like an interrogation, but YN never liked to do as she should've—that's why her naked body is now interwoven with his, the rising heartbeat in her ribcage sending waves to his fingertips. ''I trained with stones and butter knives. When you learn how to kill a bird with them, the human body is nothing.''

Coriolanus chuckles, the deep vibration resonating against her head on his chest. ''Impressive. But why risk getting caught preparing for something that might never happen to you?''

Maybe it's the way his hands draw circles around the lines of her neck, or maybe it's the way the lights flicker, but the slumped words from YN's mouth become more difficult to pronounce. ''You see the games as punishment, but the real punishment is life outside them—the arena is a golden ticket, and to compete is a privilege. Once more people get that into their heads, they will fight to even have a chance to put on a show for you. Of course, if you turn a blind eye to the preparations: can't impress with excessive knowledge of gemstones or fabrics, can you?''

His silence could've meant a lot to people who didn't know better, but the slight, almost invisible nod of the blonde-crowned head suggested understanding. If YN had been a little more attentive, she would've noticed the subtle shift in his pose. That way, the voice booming into her ear wouldn't have caught her by surprise.

''Turn on your stomach.'' Coriolanus only commands, and never asks. His pale cheeks are not yet free from colour, and the glimmer in his eyes reeks of determination.

YN wants to refuse; she wants to open her mouth and bite him right where a vital vein pulsates on his neck, draining the life force mixed with the scent of his bitter cologne. She doesn't; she hides her teeth in the silk pillowcase, its soft fabric making a home in her opened mouth. It wasn't the closure she craved, but YN knew better. You take what you can get, and with Coriolanus, you take what he gives. She needs to be adored, to be worshipped—he turns a blind eye to her every time he gets what he wants. Maybe that's what she gets for loving a man like him—he knows she is just a woman and tolerates her despite that. In the end, it doesn't really matter; he is still a god, and she is still on her knees, begging until they grow raw.

It was harmless fun at first to have her around. In addition to his small collection, a limited edition of the human she was—the whole world underneath her pretty heel, her eyes only on him. It fed his ego; Coriolanus will admit that much. Like a golden watch on his left hand or a new-tinted car, YN revolved around him. An ode to status, a testament to his power. But all things have to end—the lights are turned off after the long day of work, and the plates are cleaned after dinner.

He watches the buildings change rapidly, their warm windows mixing with tall structures of concrete. Even now, in a silent car, he finds their ever-changing looks captivating—the city jungle is never asleep, its loud voices covering the streets with a thick coat of isolation. Among men, he still stood alone. Undefeated. Victorious. Coriolanus doesn't bother to turn to the woman beside him. He played this conversation in his head too many times; now, there is nothing of the initial curiosity that used to sparkle. ''I think it would be better if we stopped seeing each other; the press is too relentless, and it's becoming dangerous for our image.''

He doesn't even have to come up with something plausible—rumours are circling of a ''new mysterious man" who was seeing the Panem's favourite star. But no one suspected it was him, and even if they did, who would dare to question him? The reason behind his decision is less poetic—the one he is somewhat reluctant to admit, even to himself.

''What?''

Her voice cuts the air, pulling Coriolanus out of his thoughts. He almost feels her figure tense up, her manicured hand gripping a stunning purse with all the power she has. It looks like claws, which he notices with humour. He imagines the same nails digging into the skin on his back, just like they did a few nights ago; the feeling sends a pleasant wave down his spine. ''You will continue with modelling and photoshoots, just like before. It even might be better—there are a couple of new projects I want you to take on.''

''Do these ''projects'' include other men that you promised to keep me safe from?''

She is mad. Coriolanus, it seems, tastes the venom dripping from her painted lips on his tongue, its bitter acids burning his throat. Maybe it's that lingering sensation, or maybe it's the air conditioning in the car—his body grows a little hot, and his head turns a lot more annoyed. He swallows; the car is almost at the mansion's driveway. A few more minutes and a starch of fresh air will get to his lungs.

YN doesn't wait for the car to fully stop; she opens the door abruptly and closes it right in his face, her boots stomping on the expensive lawn, leaving small holes in the green scenery. Her long coat flies as she walks, ignoring the shouts he throws her way. The wind, or him, leaves her eyes watery; the thick black mascara is already smudging and creasing under her beautiful lashes.

''YN! YN, wait! Woman, why won't you stop for just a fucking second?''

She doesn't answer, pushing through the buttler into the huge hall and throwing the leather bag onto the grand staircase. Fleeing, escaping—the actions stir something in Coriolanus—a mixture of anger and strange excitement. He grabs her by the shoulder, showing her back, but YN twists away, turning to face him instead.

''Why won't I stop? You are planning on leaving me, on selling me like a used car, and you have the audacity to ask me to stop?''

''YN, darling, let's just quit shouting for a second; you are overreacting.''

''Me?'' Her eyes are mad, maniac—nothing of the stoic beauty he is so used to enjoying. She yells, backing her way into the living room and throwing anything that gets under her hand at him. Coriolanus watches as the books, vases, and small statues fly over and into him, crashing against the walls and crashing into small pieces. ''I am overreacting, asshole? I have given you everything I had, every fucking piece of me that you wanted, and now you demand that I stop?''

He only plants his feet and abandons chasing her when the coffee table is in her hands, its golden lining matching the buttons on her blouse. Coriolanus lifts his hands in surrender; they both know she is not above launching it at him. So, he leaves her be.

YN's figure slides down the wall, her body trembling with anger and cries. They echo inside his head, a strange melody of defeat and desperation. Coriolanus watches her from a safe distance on the sofa, his head resting against the soft pillows. He can wait—this is likely the last time he gets to admire the beauty the world has graced her with.

The carefully styled hair that now resembled nothing of its original form, the freshly applied makeup that now streaked across her face. Even the way her neck bends to allow her a better view of him. YN's gaze follows his every move—it seems one wrong step—and the newly bestowed stillness will flee from his grasp again.

But most importantly, her eyes. Bloodshot. Sharp. Intelligent. The eyes he tried so hard to ignore, the eyes he will undoubtedly try as hard to forget—they are his eyes, even if the colour is different. Inside them, there's nothing of the person he painted or conditioned her to be—those eyes are neither of prey nor of a sheep. No, the dreamy, unblinking orbs are the curved mirrors reflecting the truth he fears to control. Coriolanus desires her; Coriolanus requires her; and if there is a want, there is a need. That's why he doesn't wish to see her anymore; if he does, she will eat him alive.

''Don't leave me,'' YN's voice is a siren's call, softer than any other sound. She crawls to him, carefully placing her head on his lap, searching for something, anything, on his face.

''You should get help, darling, for a little bit. What do you say? A nice place near the mountains—just a few months to wait for the press out.''

YN looks up at him, her face deprived of any emotion. ''Promise you will have me back?''

Coriolanus just nods, his large hand running down her back. The matter is already decided. He is not safe just because he owns her. If YN feels like it, she will stain her mouth with his blood, too.

''Hi Maggie!''

YN's voice booms through the speaker of the phone Mags holds tightly to her ear; finally, her friend is allowed to answer her calls. ''Hi! How are you? Are they feeding you well?''

That's probably not true—the mental health institutions have a history of underfunding, but Mags hopes Mr President was kind enough to choose a better place for his ex-mistress. She wasn't shocked when she heard of YN's mental breakdown; on the contrary, Mags thinks the hospital is just what her friend might need—the life of a victor isn't all glamour.

''Good enough! You know I can't put on too much weight; the designers won't forgive me for that!''

She sounds happy over the phone like this—if she is, Mags is too, no matter how much she wants to cry at the sound of her voice.

''Did he say something about me?''

Mags knows who she is asking about but hesitates to answer. She doesn't have the heart to tell her that the Snow family just announced the pregnancy of his wife, so she does what any good friend would do—Mags lies. ''I don't think so. But! The new law was just put in place—1, 2, and 4 are allowed to train their tributes from now on!''

''Oh, that is wonderful! Maggie, I am so sorry, but I have to go now. I promised I would help with books in the library. But I will call you as soon as I can!''

''I'll be waiting, YN. Be on your best behaviour; I would like to see my best friend soon!''

YN laughs. It's not very clear, but the warmth radiating from it translates definitely. ''I would never leave you, Maggie. Even as a ghost, you will never get rid of me—not for a moment.''

Mags hopes it's true. It's hard being YN's friend sometimes, but no one deserves to be alone in this cruel world. The phone call ends before she can answer; all that is left are long beeps.

The same beeps she is left with after the next call. It is answered by a different voice; this one is more mature and not as lively at all.

''We are sorry to inform you that Miss YLN lost her battle to depression on Friday, the 25th, at…''

Mags doesn't listen after that; she throws the phone across the room, bringing yet another death to delicate machinery. She has no point in keeping it in her house now for a simple, mundane reason: there is no one left to call. That is when the feeling she tried so hard to escape all her life finally nestled in her stomach, swallowing her from the inside. Hatred.

She hates the games, Panem, the Capitol, and the people who live there. Hates newspapers, hates tabloids, and hates interviewers—the people flooding the centre where the funeral is held. She doesn't want to see any of them—to see them cry and hug, whisper and tell long speeches about a person they murdered—YN didn't know any of their names, yet somehow all of them ''grieve with the world at the loss of their dearest friend''. But most of all, she hated the one who didn't even bother to show up, the one who had caused all of this.

Mags doesn't even bother remembering her own pain; it is greatly overshadowed by the cold body of her friend in a coffin she would've hated—nothing bored YN more than simple colours and ''refined tastes''. If Mags could, she would've filled the room with clashy patterns and as many shiny things as possible and served the cheapest burgers one could find in Capitol—just how she liked it. But all she can do is stare at the cold ground and a freshly planted bush of pearly-white roses on top of it. Her hands itch to dig it up, to stomp on it and replace it with something else—she doesn't. YN would've wanted them to stay.

She told her that one time, a year or two after her death—every time she appeared at its anniversary, exactly a month before the reaping. The first time Mags saw her, she thought she was going insane, but then the fear adjusted to never-changing grief. YN was harmless, even kind, although she communicated only with hand gestures—those are the rules, she told her, and rules should be followed.

The sky already grows dark, but YN hasn't shown up yet - Mags is too tired of a long day of teaching in the academy to ponder why. Maybe, after the fifty years that passed since, her friend finally found her peace. If so, Mags is happy for her. She can't wait anymore—the old woman picks up a coat from the locker and puts it on, closing the classroom before starting her journey to the exit.

The halls of the training grounds are empty; all of the children have already gone home. It pains Mags to remember who inspired the careers, and it fills her heart with immense pride at the same time. YN, to this day, is the golden standard of tribute; she is forgotten, neither by the people of Capitol nor by her own. Mags can't even count how many times the young victors of one hesitantly came to her with an old magazine in hand, asking to share something about their idol's life. She would often only smile; those children learned it by themselves sooner than she would like them to, most suffering the exact fate at the hands of the same man. The only thing that brought hope to Mags's heart was her declining health; she was getting older, and so was Coriolanus Snow. And as much as he would like, no one was immortal; he would pay for all the deaths on his hands, she would make sure of that.

''Excuse me, Miss?''

''Yes?'' Mags thinks that she heard it wrong and that her hearing is getting worse. But no—a boy, not younger than fourteen—leaves his spot at the bench near the gates and stands up, coming closer.

''Are you Maggie?'' The childish voice contrasts with the muscular build; the boy is definitely a student. ''I was just practising knots when Miss came up to me and said Maggie could help with that.''

The air leaves her lungs suddenly. Mags grips onto the coat, her hands desperatly in search of the headache pills. It all must just be her imagination, right? But the boy looks real, studying her face in curiosity. ''What woman?'' she finally breathes out.

''I don't know,'' the boy shrugs. ''Not from here. In a pretty white dress with stars on it. I asked her where she bought it, but she just laughed.''

Mags smiles weakly—that does sound like something YN would do. ''Did she say anything else?''

''Yeah!'' The boy beams excitedly, showing a missing-tooth grin. ''She said I will be the brightest star there ever was if I work hard enough!''

''That sounds about right," Mags says, her voice filled with nostalgia. "You know what? Find me tomorrow after your classes - I'll help you with knots. What was your name again?''

''Finnick, Miss. And thank you!'' The boy turns on his feet, not listening to whatever she has to say, and hurries home. ''Bye Miss Maggie!'' he shouts on his way before disappearing in the maze of brick buildings.

An impulse to correct him and remind him that her name is ''Mags'' crosses her mind, but she decides against it. After all, the name was too special to forget. The stillness of the evening lands on Mags' shoulders, and she continues the way to the victor's village. She has a lot to do - the 65th games are starting in a month, and then she will have a chance to finally rest.

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crepes-suzette-373 · 5 months

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Ichiji can "fear" (or panic)?

A while back I said that something feels funny that Ichiji was visibly sweating when Sanji freed the Vinsmokes from the candy.

Another thing that caught my attention is that Ichiji's face was heavily shaded in that scene, and it's a scene didn't seem to warrant heavy shading for lighting effect.

So, I checked through the artwork for comparison. Here's my artwork related hyperthink.

I'm noticing that when characters are in panic/in distress/experiencing turbulent emotions, sensei draws them with cross hatching on their face. Sure, sometimes the hatching is just "lighting effect", but when there's no intense lighting that warranted that kind of shadow hatching, the hatching means strong emotional reaction.

There's also dark shading for intimidation/horror effect, but based on context that's not what this is either.

Usually the "distress shading" is on the eyes, but sometimes there's more shading on the other parts of the face too. Below are examples of that on characters when in distress, panicking, nervous, or tense:

Well, Ichiji's eyes can't be seen, so my guess here is that sensei chose to cross hatch a large portion of his face (maybe to make sure you can see it?). In these instances, he's the only one whose face has that kind of intense shading when nobody else does, so it's not because of "lighting".

Also, I want to point out again, in the left picture, it wasn't just one or two drops. It was drawn in a way that implies he was sweating very profusely (the drops were dripping off his face). That seems rather intense, if it's not meant to be anything.

Example of comparison:

The only other ones with "stressed out faces" in that scene are Sanji, Bege, and Judge, so Ichiji's oddly shaded face is not lighting. Those three people I specified are feeling emotional pressure/tension in that scene.

(Also, might there be a significance in choosing to also screentone-shade Yonji there? We know that Yonji is rather openly emotional, so this might be something to scrutinise as well)

And if you apply that reading to other scenes it feels appropriate. For example, this part here:

The distress lines being drawn there probably meant that he was also concerned, but he's gritting himself to not linger and stay on track.

He may say "leave her for being weak", but I think that's not what he meant. He's prioritising "the mission" (covering for Caesar and Bege, so the Straw Hat crew especially Sanji can escape) over their individual safety.

Even if it had been himself who was knocked down, I can bet that he'd say the same thing. Stop getting distracted, get going with the mission.

Once Caesar made it out safely with Bege, you can see him also having sweat droplets and sighing in relief.

In the scene when he commands the ship to go, my read of it is that he's feeling the tension of knowing they're going to fight a tough enemy:

He's probably not sure they'll come out of it unscathed, and he's concerned for their safety, but still determined to step in to help. Just like how he's making that same face when saying to leave Reiju and keep going.

The "proof" is that Niji and Yonji don't really do this. Yonji sort of made that face after he did Winch Danton, and he and Niji somewhat do it too when Big Mum screams. Both are contexts of "physical strain" stress, from pain and exerting energy.

Otherwise, they don't have that distressed shaded face even when clearly showing concern:

In that third picture, you can even see that Reiju has the "distressed hatching" on her forehead, in comparison to Niji and Yonji who both don't at all (in the second picture).

Ichiji was making those faces when not under any physical strain, and was actually not making that stress face when Big Mum screams (even though Reiju has that same distress hatching on her forehead then).

My tentative guess is that, while Ichiji might not have empathy/sympathy like Reiju or Sanji do, what he might have is the ability to feel "fear". Maybe adjacent feelings too, like panic or very intense worry that's beyond just concern (Niji and Yonji can still be "concerned" too, as shown above), as well as "relief" in response when the fear is alleviated.

It somewhat fits with what I had dissected in the "thug Ichiji" analysis. He seems angry despite what looks like a smile on his face (I argue it's a sneer, and not a smile like Niji and Yonji were doing). Sometimes, people lash out in anger when they are scared.

Edit: Just wanted to add, to be clear. Yonji has been given the "shaded face", but I meant that it's rather clearly the intimidation one, when he was telling the Straw Hat crew he doesn't want to help Luffy. And I said in the context, Ichiji's shaded face don't seem to suggest intimidation.

The only possible counter I could think of for Ichiji is that "Oh, it's not fear/other emotions, he's just really angry the whole time".

#vinsmoke family #one piece #vinsmoke #vinsmoke ichiji #manga read along #ichiji #theory #analysis

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ronancebible · 2 years

Text

jealousy, jealousy {robin buckley x afab!reader}

Summary: Robin finds herself incredibly jealous of the way you and Eddie talk to one another. When she comes to talk to you about it, she finds you in a rather compromising situation. 2.6k words.

A/N: For my wonderful anon! I hope you enjoy. There is the slightest bit of period-typical internalized homophobia, but nothing too heavy! It's still a light read. No pronouns used, but the reader is implied to be female through discussions of same-sex attraction.

Warnings: Brief, slight mentions of internalized homophobia, masturbation, mutual masturbation, tiny alcohol mention

—

You let out a sigh as you finally took a sip of the cold water you had left at the picnic site. The hot July sun beat down on the meadow; the cheese was sure to be warm now and the champagne bound to be flat.

Steve had had the absolutely terrible idea to take a hike up to Weathertop from the picnic site, not realizing it was over 4 miles away. Everyone had given up and turned around after an hour of fruitless walking.

Steve had beat you all back to the large blanket, lazily spread out on a fluffy patch of grass. He was reaching for the strawberries when you walked up. Eddie and Robin trailed slightly behind you, only meeting you there after you had already quickly drained your bottle, panting heavily.

“Man, I thought you only made those sounds when you were with me,” Eddie said, grinning as he toed his shoes off and sat down on the edge of the blanket. You rolled your eyes fondly.

“Maybe if you keep up the good behavior, I’ll make some better ones for you,” you teased in return, throwing him a showy wink for good measure.

You and Eddie had established this flirty rapport a few months prior. It wasn’t that you were really into each other, no, it was because of an incident at a local mall. Eddie had been stoned, carelessly licking at an ice cream cone. Inhibitions lowered, he openly goggled a large poster ad for Calvin Klein briefs, only to quickly realize his mistake when he got a funny look from a mother with her children.

He had immediately tried to cover, his only thought being to tell you, “Can’t wait for you to get me out of those tonight, (Y/N).”

The mother looked scandalized, and quickly walked away with her kids as you doubled over in laughter.

“Want me to use my teeth?” you managed to reply after several seconds laughing, which only served to make both you and Eddie crack up all over again.

It had been a recurring theme between the two of you since. As much as it was silly, you had really grown to appreciate it for the peace of mind it gave Eddie. And you, on the occasion that your eyes lingered too long on a Victoria’s Secret model poster at the mall.

For the two of you, it was comfortable and reassuring, however stupid it sounded. For Robin and Steve however, it was endlessly annoying.

“Oh my God, enough,” Steve groaned through a mouthful of strawberry. “It’s endless.”

“Please, try walking next to them on that hike,” Robin commiserated before spraying whipped cream into her mouth. You watched how the muscles in her neck moved when she tipped her head back, how her lips pursed to catch all the cream, blushing and looking away when her tongue darted out to clean the corner of her mouth.

There was that small fact, too.

You and Eddie scoffed and rolled your eyes as Robin flipped you off.

—————

“Are you actually into Eddie? Like, for real?” Robin asked you later, back at your apartment. You could see her chewing her thumbnail out of the corner of your eye.

Your breath hitched a little, like it did every time someone asked you about guys. Answering always felt like a half-truth. You forced a smile.

“No, don’t worry. We won’t be messing up the group dynamic anytime soon,” you said, not looking up from the picnic dishes you were washing.

“Well, I mean… you kind of already have,” Robin said, finally drawing your attention away from the dishes. You searched her face, seeing genuine annoyance and frustration.

“We can’t go anywhere or do anything without you two flirting like crazy. And it’s so graphic,” she continued, her face reddening slightly.

“Robin, I didn’t know it bothered you,” you said, feeling bewildered. “You know it’s just a joke, it’s just the way we are. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well it’s getting on my nerves!” Robin shot back.

You turned back to the dishes quickly, trying to hide as emotion welled on your face. You didn’t know how to justify your actions without telling her about you or Eddie, so you stayed quiet as Robin lowered herself off the counter, looking slightly remorseful.

“I’ll get out of your hair,” she muttered, letting herself out of your apartment.

You let out a heavy sigh as you heard the door slam. This was the last thing you wanted.

You had no idea that Robin was genuinely bothered by the way you and Eddie talked to each other. As far as you knew, she and Steve only teased you about it. Her reaction took you by surprise.

Your mind wandered to earlier in the day as you tried to remember if Robin had seemed more upset than you noticed officially. You wracked your brain, but after a few minutes, all you could come up with was the vision of Robin spraying whipped cream into her mouth. How her lips had moved. How her eyes closed when her head tipped back.

You tried to shake it off, but then you remembered the flush of her cheeks, her heavy breathing as you hiked across Hawkins earlier. How the fine hairs at the base of her neck stuck to her skin, how you wanted to lick every drop of sweat that beaded down her cheeks.

Great. Robin was mad at you and all you could do was get turned on by her. Like always.

You huffed, putting the last dish on the drying rack. After standing still for a few seconds, turning it over in your head, you gave in with a sigh. You were too worked up to do anything else.

You walked to your room, swinging the door shut and climbing on top of your bed, shedding your jacket as you went.

You lay on your bed, still for a second, as you let the thoughts swirl around your head. At a particularly fond memory of watching Fast Times at Ridgemont High (53 minutes, 5 seconds), you groaned impatiently, shedding your top and sighing as your boobs hit the open air. Thoughts of Robin’s thigh pressed against your own at movie night spurred you on as you unceremoniously shoved a pillow between your thighs, lightly pressing down to tease yourself as you worked yourself up.

You bit your lip as you trailed your hands over your body, slowing down at your nipples, the swell at your underboob, right above your waistline—you were entranced by your own touch, imagining Robin’s smartass smile as you did so. Her hands covered in rings.

You almost wished you had more of a moral compass. One that told you it was weird to get off to thoughts of your best friend. But in the moment, you couldn’t care any less. Right now, all that existed was your need, your touch, and Robin’s face flitting through your memories.

Eventually, though, the pillow wasn’t enough, and you threw it aside in a huff. You were good and truly wet now, the kind of wet that left you whining as you felt your folds easily slide together. You haphazardly reached into your nightstand, digging under school papers until you found what you were looking for. Your prized Playboy.

You lazily flipped through it, your fingers getting closer and closer to your center as you went. About five pages in, at a particularly tantalizing photo, you slid your fingers in through your folds, shuddering heavily at the feeling. You looked at the woman in print, mesmerized as always with the way her tits sat against her body, whining as your fingertip brushed your clit.

You were just about to start touching in earnest when you heard a startled voice.

“That’s a Playboy.”

You shot up, face burning an obscene shade of red as you finally noticed Robin in the doorway. She looked transfixed, eyes flitting between your hand and the magazine. Her face must have been as red as yours.

Still, she gulped and repeated, “That’s a Playboy.”

You moved slowly to cover yourself with the covers. “I know,” you whispered.

“Why are you getting off to a Playboy, (Y/N)?” Robin said, voice hardly higher than a whisper.

Tears threatened your eyes. You didn’t want to have to do this. Not right now, not ever. Especially not with Robin.

“I… I mean, shit, Rob, why do you think?” you forced out, not knowing what else to say, voice just as low as Robin’s.

The most unexpected thing happened. Her face slowly crept into a smile, a smile that read no malicious intent. She took a step closer.

“I came back to, um… apologize. I shouldn’t have said that shit,” Robin said.

You shook your head, bewildered. Now, of all times? When you were basically naked, caught masturbating?

“Robin, I—”

“No, hold on, let me finish,” she insisted, taking a few steps forward and sitting on the edge of your bed. “I came to apologize.”

She took a deep breath. “It’s kind of hard to come to terms with… some feelings. Ones that you’ve been told your whole life aren’t right… aren’t natural. Shit, even the more accepting people basically imply it’s abnormal. But, I did. After a while. And I’m really okay with it. I like it about myself, actually. And I think you might know what I’m talking about,” she said, eyes meeting yours shyly, briefly. You held your breath.

“I thought you and Eddie were for real. And it bothered me so much, and I didn’t really know why, until I realized I was… jealous. I was just sickeningly jealous. I wanted you to say those things to me. Not him.”

Silence. Your eyes met.

“So, I’m sorry for snapping at you. And I’m sorry for walking away,” Robin finished, looking sheepishly at her feet.

You were shocked. You didn’t know there were other people in Hawkins like you, let alone that it was the object of your affections. You hardly even knew what to say, still reeling from Robin’s announcement, still trying to come to terms that you were normal. You weren’t alone.

Rationally, you had known that. You knew queer people existed, heard about their existence on TV, in books. But seeing a living, breathing person in front of you who was the same. You were overjoyed.

That’s when you noticed Robin’s flush. Her eyes darted, in a way she probably thought was inconspicuous, between your exposed tits, your damp fingers clutching a pillow. Your face. You noticed the way she was shifting in place, as if to hit the perfect spot against the seam of her jeans. You turned it over in your head, deciding it was worth it.

“Rob?” you whispered, drawing her attention back to her eyes. “Do you want to know what I think about?”

Robin seemed to short-circuit. “Um… I mean, I guess I don’t really… If you’re offering—”

You cut her off with a reassuring smile. “You.”

Her eyes widened, almost comically. You trailed your hands back down your body.

“You, and that gorgeous fucking smile. The way your whole face lights up. How it feels when we touch, like electricity running through a wire. How during movie nights when we share a blanket, all I can focus on is how it might feel to touch you beneath the blanket, how quiet I would have to keep you while I fingered you senseless.”

Robin let out a choked gasp, mesmerized as you dipped your fingers through your core, soft, wet noises filling the room. She seemed rooted in her spot, unsure what to do as her face reddened and she unknowingly wiggled in place.

“Lay down?” you pleaded, breath heavy as your fingertips lightly circled your clit.

Robin hesitated. “Like…?”

You nodded, a whimper escaping you as you imagined Robin laid out next to you, touching herself the same way you were.

Robin smiled. “Okay. Just a second.”

She sat up off the bed, wiggling out of her jeans and shedding her top, revealing no bra.

You moaned in earnest now, still taking it slow to allow Robin to catch up with you, but spurred on at the sight of her bare tits. Your mouth watered.

“Fuck, Rob,” you breathed as she climbed back on the bed, laying down next to you.

Robin let out a little whimper as she mirrored your actions, one hand tracing her boobs, catching at each nipple, and the other down, teasing her lower half.

This was every single one of your dreams come true. As your fingers began circling your clit in earnest, you turned your head to look at Robin. The real thing was so much better. It wasn’t overly dolled up, over staged, with fake-looking scenes, like the Playboy.

Instead, you watched Robin, her full tits spilling over her sides, jiggling deliciously with every vigorous move her arms made. You watched her chest heave, sweat bead on her forehead as both of your paces picked up. She ground herself down on her palm, letting out a full-bodied moan as she slipped her middle finger inside herself. You were mesmerized, more turned on that you’d ever been in your life, giddy that this could even happen.

Robin’s head turned to meet yours, and you saw her give you the same thorough looking-over you gave her.

“Am I dreaming?” she sighed, eyes slipping shut as her hands gained speed.

“God, I hope not,” you replied, the coil tightening in your belly as Robin’s face screwed up with pleasure.

“I—God, (Y/N)... I think about you, too,” Robin whines, her eyes opening to drink you in again.

You couldn’t look away. Robin’s face, flushed and freckled, was all you wanted to see for the rest of your life. Fuck, she was so pretty, forehead increasingly shiny, hair mussed from exertion. Your heart felt so full looking at her, and you could hardly contain the words as they spilled out of your mouth.

“Kiss me, please.”

Robin smiled lazily, turning her head the extra few inches it took to meet you in the middle.

The second your lips met, it felt like puzzle pieces falling into place. You knew it was corny, but that was all you could think as her plush lips met yours. You sighed into her mouth, holding her lips with your own like your life depended on it.

Robin moaned breathily into your mouth, and you took the opportunity to run your tongue across her bottom lip. She tasted like her Lip Smackers and something so uniquely her. You could have sat there all day, drinking in the miracle that was Robin Buckley, but there was a more pressing matter at hand.

“(Y/N), I’m close,” Robin whimpered, mumbling against your lips. Both your hands were unrelenting, elbows and forearms knocking against each other. You rubbed at your clit hard, circling tightly while your other hand thrusted shallowly inside you. Every part of your body felt like a live wire, only accentuated by the intoxicating slide of Robin’s lips against your own. The coil in your body tightened violently, threatening to snap. You panted.

“Me, too,” you whispered. “Come for me, Robin, please, I need to see you.”

When your lips met again, Robin came with a high keen and a full-body shudder, calling your name hoarsely and biting down on your bottom lip almost painfully as she worked herself through it. You thought you might die, feeling Robin writhe against you, kissing you like it was a life-saving antidote.

That was all it took for you to fall over the edge, too, hips rolling in the air as your nerve endings were set alight, a world-shattering orgasm ripping through you uninhibited. Robin’s lips against yours were the only anchor to the world you had.

As you both came down, panting, you grabbed Robin’s sticky hand with your own.

“Gross,” she said, with a goofy smile and no real vitriol.

You turned, giggling as you dropped your head onto her shoulder.

“Mmmm,” you sighed, sated. “I don’t ever want to let go of you.”

Robin kissed your head sweetly. “So don’t.”

You smiled against her, stomach fluttering with the world’s entire butterfly population.

“Sounds like a deal, Buckley.”

#robin buckley #robin buckey x you #robin x you #robin x reader #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley imagine #stranger things smut #robin buckley smut

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wafflebroski · 6 months

Note

Okay, um... Can I see a scenario of Uzi comforting an adopted human child that is heavily implied to have had a sad, difficult, painful past before she took them in? The kid is quiet, timid and fearful, and is prone to nightmares and crying. Um... You can just take this concept and do whatever you can think of with it, okay?

Okay...!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Let's be honest, the chances of Uzi taking in a human child of all things are pretty low.

So the only way I can think of her sparing you, let alone taking you in is if you had a traumatic past that she can relate to! Which was the prompt I was given.

She would definitely try to be distant at first, just give you the bare necessity's like food and water and warmth so you don't die on a hypodermic planet.

Eventually, like N, she get's attached to you.

And suddenly, she's making sure you have the best life possible for you on this planet.

Even when other worker drones are pressuring her to get rid of you, including her dad. She's still sticking it out for you.

But, having a traumatic past meaning having a traumatic breakdown!

She has absolutely no idea how to deal with something like a breakdown when she's still panicking about her own problems, let alone yours.

So, she'll try to repeat what N did, trying to make you focus on something that isn't so bad. She'll try to point out the good things you or you and her did.

"Hey, that drawing you did the other day was... good. How about we do that instead?"

So once she does manage to calm you down and the situation is under control, she'll find something you two can do for fun instead of doing all the depressing stuff.

So, this girl has almost no idea what she's doing, and she took in a human child when she has a virus inside her that's hellbent on killing all humans, but she's doing it anyway.

Speaking of the virus; Since it doesn't have full control yet, all that it can make Uzi do is make her think about killing you, since making her go out of control doesn't really work since cabin fever.

She, obviously, make the thoughts go away quickly as it came.

When she does eventually introduce you to N or V, she is keeping an eye on them since she doesn't really know how they'll react.

N is absolutely appalled that you managed to survive in hypothermic conditions on a planet that's unforgiving. He does treat you similarly to Uzi though.

V has more or less the same reaction as N, but is more on board of getting rid of you. Which doesn't work since both N and Uzi is protective of you.

Yes, N did get attached that fast.

Back to Uzi, once that's all and done with introductions, you'll be happy or frustrated to know that you rarely get to go outside the bunker.

Humans can be fragile in certain conditions. These are those certain conditions and Uzi knows that, so even if you ask her endlessly "Can I come with you?" The answer will always be the same.

"No."

So overall, her treatment of you does ease into her actually caring about you. And all things considered, I think she would do a great job with caring.

The actual parenting part? It could use some work.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I made a longer chapter this time! These are more headcanons for human child rather than traumatized child reader, but I had a lot of headcanons for this so sorry. :p

#murder drones x reader #Platonic Murder drones x reader #Uzi Murder drones #Platonic because child.#waffleguy #Uzi just beating the ever-loving hell out of V because she backhanded the reader.#Y/N: I don't want to be on a deadly planet!#Uzi: Then why did you come here?

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rush-the-stars · 1 month

Text

only

pairing: sukuna x half-curse f!reader (referred to as girl, daughter)

wc: a breezy 900 (unheard of for me)

cw: incest? it's not explicit but heavily implied. sukuna technically sired reader and she's a weird half-curse. but they're like non-human and kind of god-coded so. if that makes it better (it doesn't, you say? my bad then). use of "father" to refer to sukuna. toxic power dynamic.

a/n: um. look away. avert your eyes. etc. etc.

***

"do you think it's amusing to defy your nature? to defy me?" sukuna's voice echoes against cold stone, hanging in the air between you. sitting upon his throne, he is a god of death here, perched above the bones and rot of it all. the darkness whispers, slithering around you like phantom wings that brush your bare shoulders, your cheek. it could be the caress from a lover, the fading touch of a ghost.

"not amusing, no." you reply icily.

"do not take that tone with me, girl." he snarls, standing.

"not a girl," you reply bitterly, lifting your head, eyes glinting in the watery light. hardly human enough for that.

"don't test me." he snaps then. "and if you're going to stand at the foot of my shrine, address me properly."

"apologies, my lord."

in a blink, he is in front of you. thankfully, you are so accustomed to this, that you hardly flinch. except when he grabs your face in one, large hand. he squishes your cheeks. his claws arch around the bend of your ear, into your hair.

despite it all, you don't truly fear him.

his hold nearly shrouds your whole head and he pulls you up, closer to his dual-sided face. you lurch, scrambling to hold his massive wrist, to keep on the tips of your toes.

"that is not my title to you." his grin is feral, mean.

your eyes flash dangerously. your claws dig into his flesh—strangely you have always been able to mark him with little effort. ever since you were small, you were able to draw his blood.

"apologies, father." you spit.

(if you think about it, his own flesh rebelling, or perhaps—you, his only weakness.)

he lets you go and you drop like a stone, unceremoniously, and at his feet. you look up at him. the thin, slip of fabric you adorn swims around you in a glossy pool of ink. it falls from one of your shoulders.

"such disdain from my only daughter." he sighs, "such attitude."

his eyes—all of them—roam your form brazenly. the bare skin. the dips and curves of your body. you feel it the way a rabbit must know the feeling of teeth; sudden and frightening, and then altogether too late.

"such animalism from my only father." you hiss back like a little asp, "such—"

your voice catches.

he leers down at you, "such what?"

the word dies in your throat. you hate to name it, whatever he has for you, you hate to give it life. you hate that you can not, in such basic, human terms, encapsulate what he is to you. or you to him. you hate whatever this is. you hate what he is, or what you aren't. or could be.

you hate, hate, hate—festering with it, true to your name.

his very own little curse.

you hate most to let him win.

you turn your face away from him, chin up haughtily. "your lechery does not frighten me anymore."

"such a brave girl you've become." he laughs and suddenly all his arms are moving, reaching for you, and you've known them your whole life. he lifts you the same way he did when you were child. and now they linger, gripping the curve of your waist. the plump place of your thigh. "do you want me to praise you?"

"i thought i was here for punishment." you remind him, snippy and sharp, but careful to go lax in his grip.

when you fight and squirm, it excites him. so you play dead. you freeze like the rabbit, too.

he steadies you back on your feet. he stares at you for a long moment in a way that you cannot parse; all his eyes peering at you, prying at you, like they're trying to see under your clothes. under your skin. inside of you.

"for you, they might as well be the same thing."

he isn't even being cruel now, just honest. he's not leering at you. the frankness is worse, the honesty is damning. you lurch away from him, breaking the hold he has on you. your stomach turns. you bare your fangs at him, growling in warning, warbling like a curse.

he doesn't flinch.

"my praise of you feels like punishment to you, no?" he says lightly and you try to glare at him, but you fear horror is seeping through your expression.

he laughs again, rough. horribly fond.

"come," he says, turning away from you. he expects you to follow, "you reek of humans. you're done trying to live among them."

"you can't—"

"they'll never understand you. you will never belong to them." he says simply, and then he glowers, "and it's beneath you to try. come. i will not ask again."

he begins to walk. when you don't move, he looks over his broad shoulder, eyes darkening.

"they drove you out—they tried to exorcise you and i had to save you."

"it was only because of that six-eyes use—"

"i don't care. you should be ashamed and i should've finished the job for them since you are so weak—" he snarls.

(you—)

your head falls, chin dipping. perhaps in misery, maybe in surrender.

"now come, daughter of mine. you'll stay where you belong."

(—his only weakness.)

#not tagging this #nobody look actually #i just needed to write something sorta weird #had to get it out of my system #almost wrote smut but decided i was too tired #cw: incest #cielo's writing!#cielo writes!

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 2 months

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Hello. I've been binge reading your meta post an I loves all of it. I have one question, though I don't know if you had the same question or not. If you had I'm sorry feel free to ignore this but if you hadn't, this is my question. Many people said Adrien as sentimonster is a good plot and the other said it's also good metaphor for abuse children. But what do you think about the senti plot? Is it necessary? And what do you think the writer is trying to achieve with the plot if Adrien doesn't even allowed to know about what he is?

Thank you! I'm glad that you've been enjoying my rambles! I don't think I've touched on those aspects of the sentiplot, so here goes!

Is it Necessary/What's The Goal?

I don't think that the sentiplot is even remotely necessary. My two cents is that it reads like something that was added relatively last-minute in order to add some cheap drama to draw the plot out because they didn't have enough content to organically fill seven seasons. Part of the reason that I'm comfortable saying that is because we've seen the writers do this type of move many times before. I don't wanna get too into the weeds on this, but a good example is the love triangles with Luka and Kagami.

Luka and Kagami are never treated as real alternate love interests. They're just road blocks on the love square highway that allow for seasons three to end on a cliff hanger. The fact that season four opens on two episodes meant to reassure the audience that Lukanette and Adrigami are doomed to fail is proof of this. No one is actually supposed to ship those ships. There's no Team Luka vs Team Adrien. It's just cheap drama.

The other reason that I feel comfortable calling the sentiplot cheap shoehorned drama is because the sentiplot has no teeth. A big reason why I refused to believe that it was going to be a thing was because it's an extremely serious plot that has no place in a Y-7 show. The wielder of raw destruction can have his free will overwritten at any time! The show has made jewelry theft a common teenage past time! This is bad!

And yet, once it's introduced, it goes nowhere. Gabe gives the most lackluster commands humanly possible and Nathalie undoes every one of them before they have a chance to meaningfully impact the plot. The biggest fallout of the sentiplot was that the Adrienette kiss got delayed a bit. How terrifying.

If the sentiplot had the weight it deserved, then it would have destroyed Adrientte in a big, dramatic fashion. Gabriel would have commanded Adrien to date Kagami and Tomoe would have done the same for Kagami re Adrien. But that's too serious, so we don't even get Gabe telling Adrien to break up with Marinette. He just tells Adrien to not see her and Marinette never has any clue that something went wrong there because Nathalie undoes the command two minutes later.

The Sentiplot's and Emilie

You may have read the previous section and thought, "But wait, doesn't the sentiplot give an explanation for why Emilie used the peacock? Didn't we need that?"

No, we didn't. Felix's little play and Gabe's memory of the night they used the peacock both heavily imply that no one knew that the peacock would kill you. It's why Felix exists! His father did not willingly give his life to have a kid and neither did Emilie. It was an unknown side effect.

Imo, it would have actually been better if Emilie hadn't used the peacock for such obviously selfish reasons. I mean, is anyone really saying, "Oh no, the rich lady used forbidden magic (and possibly killed some people?) to get a designer baby, then faced unexpected consequences! How awful for her! She didn't deserve that!"

Wouldn't it have been a far more interesting and complex story if Emilie used the peacock because she wanted to help someone else? If she was an unambiguously good person who suffered for doing the right thing or even just a morally gray thing? Wouldn't that make Gabriel's quest feel more righteous and less like a temper tantrum by a rich, entitled white guy who used his wealth in a morally dubious manner and paid for it?

The Sentiplot as an Abuse Metephor

I don't think that the writers meant for the sentiplot to be an abuse metaphor. In fact, I sincerely hope they didn't because it's a terrible one! Or, at least, a depressing one.

Abuse - especially childhood abuse - is something that sticks with us. A lot of victims will be forever scared by what they went through. But just because they bare scares doesn't mean that they're trapped by their abuse and can never break free. This is true even if the abuse caused mental health issues like PTSD or CPTSD, conditions that can never be cured because you know what they can be? Controlled and mitigated to the point where the victim is no longer ruled by their condition.

There's also the fact that abuse victims - especially child abuse victims - can and often do reach a point where their abusers no longer have any power over them. I have personally seen a child abuse victim go thought the process of realizing that their parent is just another adult now. All the power that the parent once held is gone. The child doesn't depend on them for food and shelter anymore. If the abuse starts up again, then the child can just get up and walk away.

That's not true for a sentimonster. Sentimonsters don't grow up and get more agency/power. At any point, their abuser can get ahold of their amok and override their free will, taking away the sentimonster's freedom even if the sentimonster is on another continent! There is no means of true escape.

No abuse victim will ever be that powerless. Abuse victims can escape abuse and they do have true free will. Sentimonsters will always be sentimonsters.

Is the Sentiplot Good?

No. It's too serious for a kids show. In fact, now that it's canon, here's my two cents: all of the sentikids are massive liabilities to the team who need to give up their miraculouses immediately because they can never be truly trusted. Felix has shown us time and time again how easy it is to steal an amok and replace it with a fake, so we must always assume that the sentikids are compromised because to assume otherwise is to invite the miraculouses to fall into the wrong hands. It's just not worth the risk to trust a senti.

Along the same lines, the love square should never be canon unless Marinette gives up Guardianship because Adrien is a liability to the safety of the miraculouses even if he didn't wield on himself. The only way to get around this issue is to use the wish to make the sentikids human, but Gabe failed to even do that one kindness for his son, so here we are. Season six will either drive this point home by having Lila use the amoks to mess with Adrien or it will drop the sentiplot forever, proving just how cheap and poorly thought out it was.

Other issues I think I've already addressed in other posts, but that are still a problem that make the plot bad:

a sentimonster's creator defines the sentimonster's worth, thus there being no issue with Felix making sentimonsters and then killing them or the heroes destroying them, but it would somehow be wrong if we did the same thing to any of the sentikids

any command you give a sentimonster can be overwritten and sentimonsters can't resist even if they know they're being controlled, so there's truly no hope to free them

giving your leading lady anxiety issues and a boyfriend whose free will is constantly in jeopardy is cruel and unusual punishment

an insane number of lore issues like why is it impossible to destroy other sentimonsters, but Adrien can be destroyed in akuma fights? Cataclysms are pure destruction! It makes no sense that akumas can do what a cataclysm can't. And is Adrien able to die a natural death? What happens to his amok when he does? Will his children be able to be controlled by his amok too since they're part of him?

the lore around Gabe & Emilie finding the miraculous makes no sense and should not be possible. That's another rant, though.

#senti salt #ml writing salt #ml writing critical #ml season 5 salt #adrien deserves better #this plot is only suited to an angsty or bittersweet ending #I don't know how you can hope for a happy ending when Adrien is forever a slave

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ask-the-rag-dolly · 6 months

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First of all sooo excited for your blog! The one thing I don't like about digital circus is the complete and utter lack of Ragtha love! Lol

I know you said you prefer platonic relationships, and for my girl Ragatha, I think if her and Jax were secretly besties, it would add so much more to each other. Cause it means Jax does have a vulnerable side, and Ragtha has an unlikely ally perhasp willing to push things a little far for her.

Also just a personal headcannon since Ragthas been there the longest maybe she's actively helped some of the main cast figure out to cope and hold on to their sanity, because she did say their was still time to "fix" Kafmo. So that's implies someone can be brought back if their not completely constructed yet. I think there's so much potential in her doing that for Jax because their different morals and personality seems like the most interesting dynamic to me. Plus, gotta love that angst.

// yeah same ! ragatha quickly became my favorite - for several reasons that will be too long for this post - and it really saddens me that she's already getting pushed aside ...

like don't get me wrong , she gets more attention than gangle and zooble ( who are also characters i'm fond of that i wish gets the same level of analysis as jax and kinger ) , but there's so much to pick apart and analyze with ragatha that someone has to take the mantle ^^

besides uurgh i may love jesterdoll but ragatha has so much potential for interesting dynamics , not just pomni ! like her being very compliant towards caine , how she might've helped zooble considering they were the newest before pomni , the history she might've had with kinger , how she's the most suitable to comfort gangle , and just !! her entire thing with jax !!

like i can see why they can be an interesting dynamic - they're like two sides of the same coin in a way ( both are secretly terrified out of their minds and hides it by either servicing people or pushing them away . do you see my vision ) . i personally see them as begrudging siblings - really dislike each other but most likely won't be able to live without the other

( also a part of that may not be fueled by how ragatha's heavily inspired by raggedy ann and that jax's voice is a raggedy andy impersonation ... )

i will admit it's a bit too early to draw a conclusion on what's going on between them though since gooseworx keeps reiterating that no one likes jax and that he's an irredeemable asshole - but i know their dynamic won't just be pure , mutual hate . i personally love the thought of them being the only one who truly understands the other despite the vitriol lol

also ! i've always thought of ragatha as the group meditator in a way ! in my head , she's the glue that helps hold the group together - i don't think the current cast will survive even a single hour without the only person who isn't panicky and/or irresponsible . i won't be surprised if she actually saved someone from near-abstraction !

though i don't think it's a role that's doing her any big favors . do you think anyone ever asks how she's doing ? (: //

#[ ooc ]#[ ESSAY WARNING ]

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blaperile · 3 months

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Homestuck: Beyond Canon (reactions pages 554- 576)

Wow, that was quite a heavy update.

I love that we finally got some insight into Yiffy's personality! Feels like she got a lot from Rose there, haha.

Too bad we still don't have dialogue from her yet though, I wonder when we'll get that honour.

But yikes, that tension between Kanaya, Rose and Jade. When Kanaya started putting on her lipstick I got REALLY afraid that the lipstick was going to turn into her chainsaw and that she was going to attack Jade with it. Good thing that didn't happen.

Rose and Kanaya's relationship has gone through a lot across both Meat and Candy!

What's drawing my attention MOST OF ALL though is that shot of Jade's captchalogue card!!

That's clearly a hand with stitches on it… which heavily implies it to be a STUFFED CORPSE. :o

We know Jade and her Grandpa had quite a history with stuffing corpses, so this immediately makes you wonder… whose corpse is this? And just what is the Homestuck Beyond Canon team planning on doing with it?

The most obvious candidate is Candy Dave's corpse! He recently died, from Jade's perspective, and she was most likely the first one to find his corpse. So if her old mannerisms surfaced again, perhaps she immediately stuffed him?

It's kind of a strange pose for this hand, but maybe his corpse is still lying in about the same pose Jade found him in?

If they all end up in a new SBURB session, does this mean we're going to get a new Davesprite???

And what impact would it have on Davebot, if any? Seeing as it's technically Candy Dave's consciousness (in ultimate self form) inhabiting the robot, would it be pulled from the robot into the sprite and cause the robot to explode (just like Aradia experienced when she went God Tier)?

Even the "WEE WOO" text beneath the panel is heavily implying this, using red and orange text, much like Dave and Davesprite's text colors.

An alternate interesting theory raised by abundantChewtoys is that it's Candy Dirk's corpse. I don't think it's very likely considering that they had a funeral for him and all, but it would be another notable corpse here in the candy timeline Jade could technically get her hands on AND it also fits with the text colors (Dirk's orange and Arquiusprite's red).

Finally another excellent point abundantChewtoys raised is that this update made sure to point out that Rose never buried her Mom. But then what DID happen to her body? Was it left on the Battlefield?

I may recall John or pre-retcon Jade having mentioned that they had a funeral for the dead Guardians on the 3-year trip on the Prospitian battleship? I might be remembering that wrong though. I can't find it with the search function, so my mind might be making it up.

But in any case, post-retcon Jade was ALONE on the ship, she had no John or Davesprite with her. So, knowing her family history, it's POSSIBLE she stuffed the corpses of John's Dad and Rose's Mom (and Dave's Bro?)… and that she still has those corpses with her?!

Anyway, most likely it's "just" Candy Dave's corpse, but it's hilarious to think of the other possibilities as well. At least we know for sure it's not a troll corpse considering the white human-like hand, hahahahaha.

I also just want to point out that this green captchalogue card implies this to be Jade's Pictionary modus… which would mean Jade had to DRAW the corpse to captchalogue it… think about that for a minute. Yikes. :(

It's interesting how in both Meat and Candy we currently have someone holding onto a dead corpse (Terezi holding on to John's body and Jade hanging on to this mysterious body who may or may not be Dave). Where is this leading? New Sprites in a SBURB session or something else entirely?

Finally I just want to talk about James Roach his newpost, where he hints one or more [S] pages are upcoming a few months from now!!!

I'm VERY excited about that, but also very curious what it could be about…

Ever since this new creative team took over we've got plenty of updates which seem to be building up to everyone heading to the Plot Point at the meteor. So are we going to get an [S] page featuring an epic confrontation between Jane and the rebels at the meteor, tying up everything that's happened so far in Candy and ending this "Act"?

Maybe that same page will also be the one to finally reveal what the Plot Point truly is. Is it some kind of portal (like from Hiveswap) to the Meat timeline or is it something else entirely?

My mind has been going crazy on theorizing and imagining where this could be going.

If everyone is gathering on the meteor and the Plot Point will activate then and there, what if it will somehow transport the entire meteor to the Meat timeline and have it go to Deltritus??

That would be an absolutely crazy but also amazing way to merge the Meat and Candy storylines into one.

Alternatively, I would find it hilarious if the Candy meteor transports to Meat Earth and it turns out that Calliope and Caliborn grew up there in the distant future (making it a combination of Candy and Meat, which is an appropriate symbol for both Cherubs).

#Homestuck #Homestuck: Beyond Canon #update #upd8 #update reaction #Yiffy Lalonde Harley #Jade Harley #Dave Strider #Kanaya Maryam

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thxrnking · 4 months

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Day One - A Night Children AU One-shot

Tag List: @phoenixriaartemis @anja-the-sane-sibling @simplycreatorjo @miraimeity @sparklingdiva678 @punsandquips @lyna-possibility @32nder @libralelia @luvvy-star @caitlynnrosespn @generalakuma @anonymous-gremlin @mightnightmooon @delphinus-dancer @mudpuddlenl

Summary - Today's the first day of the rest of Jack's life. So what's his choice?

Content Warning - implied physical abuse/torture

----

Everything hurts. A pounding throb is threatening to tear my head apart while my limbs ache, every muscle feels over-stretched, and I’m pretty close to just slipping back into unconsciousness. Something itches though, at the base of my brain, something pushing me to stand and look. I have no idea at what.

It takes some time to drag myself up, every muscle crying out in overworked agony. With a stretch, my joints crack and pop back into place, releasing pressure I had no idea I’d been carrying and drawing from me a long sigh of relief.

You’d think standing would be easier now that I’m sat up. You’d think. Not even halfway up, my head reels, swirling worse than a snow-globe. Everything’s spinning around me and I land heavily back on the bed. I think I might be sick.

I don’t know what happened. I vaguely remember my friends, there was dancing, but after that there’s nothing. No faces, no names, not even a vague feeling in any direction. Just a great blank slate where my memories should be and the more I look at it, the more my head hurts. It takes a minute or two but I finally manage to stand. My balance is still off and I stumble into my dresser which isn’t fun, and all thoughts leave my head when I catch sight of myself in the mirror.

At least I think that’s me. Same pale complexion, stellar cheekbones, striking jawline, but that’s not my hair. I’ve had the same hair my whole life, short, red, gently styled. Easy to maintain and iconic; but the hair in the mirror is an inch shorter, and black. Well except for a small pink streak near the top of my head.

I reach for it in shock, barely believing as my reflection does the same. What the-?

“You’re awake.”

The sudden voice scares me near shitless. My knees thud against the dresser but I don’t have time to feel the smack, turning to see Wanderlust standing a short way away. At least I think it’s Wanderlust. He looks taller; his clothes and his crown are darker, more twisted. Over his shoulders is a feathered cape that can only mean one thing. Mother.

“What happened to you!” I blurt, but he doesn’t even blink.

“What do you remember?” he asks.

“Nothing. I-”

Wait.

Cold. I remember being cold. I don’t remember what happened to my blazer, but my shirt was torn and damp and I was littered in cuts and bruises. I look down at my chest. My smart shirt isn’t torn. It’s purple and neatly pressed and fits me perfectly. As ever it’s good at hiding Mother’s sins.

A hollow ache blossoms in my chest. I’d been alone. Restrained and locked away. Never mind days it had to have been weeks. Had anyone even realised I was missing? Did anyone care?

I start to cough, hacking and spluttering; desperately trying to catch my breath as my chest spasms over and over. My stomach twists, wrenching violently as I drop to one knee, trying and failing to catch myself against the dresser.

I’m going to be sick, or I would if there was anything in my stomach. For a few minutes I’m retching as my body tries and fails to eject something, anything from my mouth. When was the last time I ate something?

Then comfort floods me as something warm comes in beside me. An arm wraps around my shoulder and pulls me in. I look up. Wanderlust holds me, his grip firm and strong as he pulls me close, gently hushing me. The ache in my chest fades to a dull pain.

I remember.

Wanderlust was the one who found me. Walked right in with a new smile, some new clothes, and quiet promises to keep me safe. I’d flinched away but he didn’t care.

‘Trust me.’ he’d said. The two dumbest words I’d ever heard him say. Of course I trust him.

Wanderlust moves to stand, pulling me up with him and without thought, I follow his lead. I hold tight as I try to get my legs to take my own weight. I’m not ready to let him go; he’s so warm. His fingertips drag along my forearm, sending goosebumps dancing across my skin and I think he knows what he’s doing because his lips are quirked in such a shit-eating smile. I just might melt in that smile. Gradually, he drags them towards my hand, taking it and interlocking our fingers, holding tight.

My head is swimming as we stand there; he’s holding my hand up, while the other has dropped to my back, holding me close; it’s almost like we’re dancing. As if we’d ever be allowed to stand this close.

But we are.

With a gentle twist of my fingers as he lifts my hand, Wanderlust encourages me to turn, wrapping his free arm around my waist again and pulling me back against him.

“Look at us,” he tells me.

So I look.

This can’t be us, I tell myself. The arm around my waist tightens like he’s afraid I might walk away. I should. We agreed a long time ago that we can’t be together. No one will accept us, and there’s more important things to focus on.

But look at how entwined we are. Wanderlust’s chin on my shoulder, his chest pressed firm against my back, his arms tight around me. His lips brush against my cheek as he presses a soft kiss and I can’t help but drown a little.

How many times have I let go for the greater good? For the sake of safety or sacrifice? Don’t I deserve this? Don’t I deserve to be happy?

“What do you think?” There’s a sly smile on Wanderlust’s lips as his reflection pins me with an unyielding gaze.

I stare at us. At my hair. At his crown. In his eyes. My eyes flit to every point of contact; like a drink of cool water after hours in the hot sun, it’s all too much and not enough. I push myself back into his hold, and Wanderlust pulls me closer. He’s only too happy to give me what I want. Finally.

“Perfect.”

#Just Dance 2024 #Jack Rose #jd Jack Rose #jd Jack Swan #jd Wanderlust #Night Children AU #NCAU #Jacklust #Wanderrose

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duhragonball · 1 year

Text

Dragon Ball Super Manga ch. 21-26

Phew! We’re almost done with the Zamasu Saga.

Last time, we left off with Trunks holding off Goku Black and Zamasu so that Goku and Vegeta could escape in the Time Machine. This is somewhat similar to what Trunks did to save them in Episode 62 of the DBS anime. Except they never bothered to explain how Trunks survived against such hopeless odds. Instead, in Episode 63, he just wakes up in a Resistance Bunker. No one explains how he got away from Black and Zamasu. It’s bullshit.

In the manga version, he gets rescued by the Shin and Gowasu of the “main” timeline. In Trunks’ timeline, all of the Supreme Kais are dead, but the “main” timeline versions can still travel to this world using their Time Rings. They can also teleport to any planet they wish, including this reality’s version of the Sacred World of the Kais in Universe 7. It’s deserted now, but they still know where it is, and it provides refuge for the good guys while they wait for Goku and Vegeta to return.

But why do they even need to wait for Goku and Vegeta? They used the Time Machine, so why don’t they just set the return coordinates for a few seconds after they left? Goku asks this very question, and Bulma tells him that it can’t work that way. I won’t get into the details because later it turns out Bulma was mistaken about this, but in this scene, she tells them that they have to “sync up” with the other timeline. Spending one day here means that they have to return one day later in the other timeline as well.

Tell you what, let’s just jump ahead to the ending, where Emperor Pilaf of all people figures out Bulma’s error. Presumably Future Bulma, the one who actually invented the time machine, understood this, but Present Bulma is still learning as she goes.

Oh, before I get too far ahead of myself, check out this goofy rendition of Trunks’ sword. It looks too wide in a lot of scenes, but in this one it’s like Toyotaro is trying to make it looks stupid on purpose. Aren’t swords easy to draw? Also, why is Mai wrapping her fingers around the blade like that?

One more thing, I appreciate Goku Black in this scene declaring that he doesn’t want to destroy the entire planet. He could wipe out all mortals very efficiently if he just blew up the planets they were standing on, but he wants to keep all the planets in tact. This was heavily implied in the anime, but they never came out and said so, which always frustrated me.

Here’s a scene of Black and Zamasu’s hideout, and it works a lot better than it did in the anime, because this scene shows them discussing their plans instead of just sipping tea and congratulating themselves. Because of Gowasu and Shin’s little rescue earlier, they’re concerned that their plans have been exposed to the gods of the other timelines. They’re worried that Grand Zeno might even catch wind of this, so their best bet is to leave this Earth and move on to a new base of operations. But they still want to finish off the remaining Earthlings before they leave.

See, this is excellent storytelling. The way the information is presented, we learn additional things about their plan. They could have wiped out the Earthlings some time ago. It’s not even hard for them, which is why they’re gonna knock it out in one afternoon before they leave. But like I mentioned in the last post, they’ve been using this Earth as a training ground to get Goku Black powered up and to practice for the more difficult work of invading the other timelines.

It’s also important to show that they’re actually concerned about something going wrong. Their Zero Mortals Plan isn’t foolproof. The only reason they were able to kill all the gods in this reality is because they had the element of surprise on their side, and because of that business where killing a Supreme Kai kills the Destroyer God and deactivates his Angel for free. But now that Gowasu and Shin are onto them, it’ll be a lot harder to get the drop on the other gods from here on out. Black and Zamasu are still confident about their plan, but they’re clearly troubled by this development.

This was something that was sorely lacking in the anime version, where Black and Zamasu were constantly making those smug little grins the entire time. They never worried about anything until Zamasu nearly got trapped by the Mafuba near the end of the arc. And if the villain is never inconvenienced, it makes the story kind of dull. Think about how troubled King Piccolo was when his children were killed, or how frightened he got when he thought Goku’s Kamehameha stance might be a Mafuba. Or how annoyed Frieza would get when he lost the Dragon Balls. Anime Zamasu never gives you any of that.

Anyway, their final push to kill the remaining Earthlings forces Trunks’ group to take action. Gowasu refuses to stand by and wait for Goku and Vegeta. Instead, he goes alone to appeal to Goku Black’s better nature, except Black has already murdered two other versions of Gowasu, so he has no problem doing it again. And there’s a scene like this in the anime, but this time Black actually gets to stab him, and Gowasu falls off a building. It’s pretty cool because:

1) It actually looks like he’s dead, because Black’s attack seriously hurt him, unlike all the times he stabs people in the anime and they’re fine.

2) It gives some karmic payback to Gowasu for failing to recognize the problem with Zamasu before it got this bad.

Gowasu isn’t a bad person, but he made a very grave mistake, and it’s unsatisfying how he never suffers any direct consquences for it. I mean, two other versions of Gowasu get murdered, but that’s a little too clean for my tastes. Those dead Gowasu’s don’t have to live with it. This Gowasu, who gets stabbed but survives, has something painful to remember this by. It’s much more satisfying this way.

So when Gowasu gets hurt, Trunks, Shin, and Mai return to Earth to save him, and not long after that, Goku and Vegeta return to pick up where they left off. This time, Goku has learned the Mafuba Technique to deal with Zamasu, while Vegeta trained in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber to counter Goku Black.

Vegeta’s strategy this time is to fight in the Super Saiyan God form, which is weaker than Blue, so Goku Black doesn’t understand the point. But as Goku explains, Vegeta has learned to control his powers more precisely, switching from SSG to Blue at the very instant he attacks. This way he gets the best of both worlds. Super Saiyan God is easier to maintain and a little more agile, so Vegeta can defend himself in that form, and then he only uses Blue in very small doses, getting all the raw power while minimizing the strain on his body.

This is similar to something Goku did against Hit in the previous arc, but he only managed to do it once, at the very end of their fight. Vegeta’s mastered the trick to the point where he can do it repeatedly. Again, this is way better than the anime, where Vegeta didn’t do anything differently after training in the Chamber. It was understood that he would be stronger than before, but there was nothing more to it than that. One fight he lost to Black, and now he’s winning. I hate to sound like a broken record, but the manga is just styling all over the anime here.

I’m not even saying this “Switching Between God and Blue” trick is a cool idea. I seem to remember fans disliking this when these chapters were published. But the point here is that it is an idea. It’s something new Vegeta does that he couldn’t do before, and that’s the in-story reason why he’s winning this time. He doesn’t have to invent a new transformation every time he trains, but he has to come up with something to explain his improvement, and this works.

Meanwhile, Goku actually gets to do the Mafuba, so that’s another win for the manga. Also, the gag with the talisman works a lot better in this version. In the anime, Goku forgot the talisman altogether. Here, he remembered to bring it, but he picked up the wrong piece of paper. The joke is less about Goku screwing up and more about him looking at the talisman and seeing a coupon for “Club Tight & Scanty”.

So this leads up to the Zamasu/Goku Black fusion, which works a lot better here, because Vegeta is handily kicking Black’s ass. Goku may not be able to seal Zamasu away like he planned, but he can definitely keep Zamasu contained long enough for Vegeta to kill Goku Black, and Zamasu won’t be able to carry out his plan alone. The anime borked that up by having Goku Black still have the upper hand, so they really only fused because Zamasu was rattled about the Mafuba.

So Goku and Vegeta fuse, right? Well, not right away. They have the Potara at their disposal, but they don’t want to go through with it. Goku asks Vegeta, but as soon as Vegeta refuses, Goku’s more relieved than anything else. Then while Goku fights alone, Vegeta hears Gowasu explain that Merged Zamasu should unfuse within an hour. See, in the anime he said Potara fusion is permanent only when a Kai is involved. But in the manga, it’s only permanent when a Supreme Kai is involved, and Zamasu never officially achieved that rank. He’s just a usurper, so his fusion has a time limit too. That gets Vegeta’s attention, and so does Trunks when he says he wants to join in the fight because he doesn’t want Vegeta getting hurt over this, because his mom really wanted to go back in time and see him again before she died.

So all of that changes Vegeta’s mind about the fusion, and that’s how we get Vegito in this version. I like that, because Goku and Vegeta have shown a reluctance to fuse in the past, and it’s a lot cooler to have Vegeta motivated by sentimental reasons than just “The bad guy is really strong, so we just gotta.” I like fusion, don’t get me wrong, but they need to sell me on it a little first.

So Vegito starts off by blowing off Zamasu’s right arm, which sets up a nice little homage to Cell getting Final Flashed. I think this is one of those scenes where fans whine about Toyotaro “tracing”, which is dumb as hell, because it’s clearly a callback. Of course he’s gonna do stuff like this. He’s a Dragon Ball fan working on a Dragon Ball comic. Comic book artists do this all the time. There’s probably a few thousand different tributes to the cover of Action Comics #1.

Vegito comes apart pretty quickly, and Zamasu works the boys over with Kachin metal blocks and that portals trick Janemba does. I get the Katchin thing, because Toyotaro probably played Budokai 2 where the Supreme Kai would throw blocks at people, and he wanted to use that move here. The portals thing... I don’t know. He definitely needed to do a new power just to show off Merged Zamasu’s on a different level, and this works for that, but it feels a little out of left field. I’m not sure what he should have used instead though, so I won’t complain too much.

So from the sidelines, Gowasu and Shin watch Goku and Vegeta getting clobbered, and they wish that they could help. Once, when they were apprentice Supreme Kais like Zamasu, they had healing powers of their own, but they had to give that ability up once they assumed the role of Supreme Kai. Then Trunks remembers that he was an Assistant Supreme Kai in a manner of speaking. Back when his own Supreme Kai was training him to fight Babidi and Dabura, there was a ritual Shin did for him, one that he didn’t understand at the time. As it turns out, that ritual was to give him the powers of an Assistant Kai, which included healing powers. Trunks just didn’t know about it until now, which is... kind of goofy, but okay.

So he can heal the others, but it turns out he only has enough power to heal one or the other, so he’ll have to choose. At first, Trunks goes with Vegeta, but Vegeta refuses. While he was fused with Goku, he realized that Goku has the power to win this fight, so that’s who he wants Trunks to heal up.

This part isn’t exactly brilliant, but it sure beats what they did in the anime after Vegito came apart, which was just having Trunks chop Zamasu in half using ki from a handful of ordinary civilians. I mean, if we’re choosing between two different asspulls, I’ll take the asspull that makes a little more sense.

So Goku gets healed and fights alone, and Vegeta explains how Goku managed to perfect the Super Saiyan Blue form, allowing himself to use Blue for sustained periods of time. And that works because this is the first time we’ve really gotten to see Goku fight at this level, but if he had this mastered already, why was he so impressed with Vegeta’s deal where he switched between God and Blue? Because that sounds like a workaround that Goku had already made obsolete.

Goku even manages to use Hakai against Zamasu, but he pulls Mai in the path of the attack so Goku has to back off. Again, a little goofy, but I can like with it.

The main thing here is that Goku didn’t get to do much in the first two-thirds of the arc, and that’s by design. You bring him out at the end so he can show off all his cool powers and everyone talks about how strong he is. Which means you have to do a lot of scenes where Goku is on the sidelines, or absent altogether. And this is nothing new. We’ve seen it in a lot of classic Dragon Ball arcs in the past, but Toei wants to go against that idea and put Goku all over the place. Well, they got their way in GT and they got their way in the anime version of the Zamasu arc, and both of those things sucked. This manga Zamasu arc has some problems, but it’s a lot more sound from a structural standpoint.

Does it make sense for Goku to be able to fight Merged Zamasu alone? Not really, but he doesn’t have to beat him, he just has to hold out long enough for the fusion to wear off, and it does. But it’s all weird because it was two Zamasus.

And that’s when Trunks chops them in half. See, this works so much better because Merged Zamasu was already starting to come apart anyway, so this is just Trunks delivering a final blow instead of inventing some new power from nothing.

But it’s not the end just yet, because each half grows back, and then the Goku Black half gets up from being impaled. How did he become immortal?

Then both of them regenerate into their Merged Zamasu forms, so now we have two Merged Zamasus. Vegeta does a Final Flash variation called “Gamma Burst Flash”, and that rips them both apart, but then the pieces grow into even more Zamasus, so we have this Sorcerer’s Apprentice thing going on.

Retreat isn’t an option either, because the Zamasus reveal that they have their own time machine. Remember that ancient civilization in Universe 12 who invented a time machine? Well, the Destroyer God from U12 kept it, and Zamasu found it . So he can use that device to invade the other timelines. Wait, how would Zamasu know how to operate an alien time machine? I mean, he’s not stupid, but still. For all he knows, it’s not even functional anymore, and there’s no tech support in Universe 12 because he killed everyone in it.

So Goku and Vegeta try to hold off this Zamasu army while the others escape. They have no idea what good it’ll do, but it’s better than nothing. I like Vegeta’s like here when Goku asks him if he has a plan. “Go wild until you die. That’s all.”

I also like how Goku’s only regret is that if he has to go out in a hopeless battle like this, he’d rather do it in Super Saiyan mode. Luffa would be touched.

But then he remembers his button that he got from Grand Zeno, and things pretty much play out like they did in Episode 67 of the anime. The entire timeline is erased, and in the manga, we see the Time Ring that represents this timeline vanish along with it. That kind of bugged me in the anime version, where Gowasu looks at his box of rings one last time at the end of the arc and all the rings are still there.

On the other hand, should the Time Ring vanish? Zeno didn’t erase the timeline, just the multiverse it contained. Is that the same thing? The history of that reality still exists, right? Then again, maybe it doesn’t matter, since the Time Rings can’t go back to the past, and now this timeline only has a past. So even if the history of that timeline remains, the Time Ring that goes with it is useless, so it might as well self-destruct.

Except Whis still has that plan to go back to the timeline before Grand Zeno destroyed everything in it, nip Zamasu in the bud, and drop off Trunks and Mai to live out their lives. This will create a new alternate timeline, but the fact that Whis can do this at all suggests that the Time Ring for that reality still needed to exist. Ah well, this whole business is pretty dumb anyway.

My head canon for all of this is that Whis dropped off this version of Trunks and Mai in the timeline where Xeno Trunks lives, and sometimes he’ll come home from Time Patrol duty and say hello to his blue-haired duplicate, an older, more traumatized version of himself who lives with his wife in some cabin out in the middle of nowhere. Blunks sees his mom now and again, but he and Mai keep to themselves for the most part, as they can’t quite feel like they truly belong in this world. But they have each other, and that’s enough.

But I can never figure out the timeline logistics to make that provable. It probably isn’t worth the trouble.

Anyway, Pilaf keeps asking Future Mai what happened to the Pilaf and Shu of that timeline, and she seems to know the answer, but she can’t bring herself to tell him the truth. I was sort of hoping Future Mai wouldn’t even know who Pilaf was, since the anime never bothered to establish this, but the manga makes it clear that this is the same Mai who we saw in the first DB arc in 1984. So whatever.

The thing is, Pilaf’s all worried because he doesn’t know what unspeakable fate awaits him, but for all we know, Mai just doesn’t want to tell him he died. I mean, everyone died in that timeline. It’s just a question of who killed Pilaf and when it happened. Maybe something else happened to him before he got killed, and that’s what Mai doesn’t want to talk about, but even if he lived right up to the end, he still would have died in that one shed Goku Black blew up.

Like I said, this arc is pretty damn morbid, and it bothers me how casually Toriyama brought back this alternate timeline just to eradicate it completely. He could have just... not brought it back, and that would have been the same as destroying it, but instead it’s like he went out of his way to do this arc just to burn the whole thing to the ground and piss on the ashes.

And we never really know for sure that Whis succeeds in his plan to relocate Trunks and Mai. This feels very much like when someone says they took your pet dog to a farm where they can run and play all day long. Maybe Whis just killed them in secret to wrap up the last loose ends. Or maybe he made a good faith effort and it just didnt’t work the way he expected. Or maybe it worked just fine, but Trunks couldn’t handle it and flipped out. It’s not fun to think about.

But it’s over now, and I’m pleased to say the manga version is a lot better than the anime, although I guess that’s not saying a whole lot. Good night, and fuck the Zamasu Saga forever.

#dragon ball #dragon ball super manga #2023dbapocryphaliveblog #goku #vegeta #trunks #mai #emperor pilaf #shu #gowasu #zamasu #goku black #beerus #whis #supreme kai #kibito #master roshi #fuck the zamasu saga forever

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heraldofcrow · 1 year

Text

Coldblood Flower Theory

So, I feel like FromSoftware has a habit of taking biological phenomena in nature and either personifying it or treating it like a magical element. For the flowers in Bloodborne, there seems to also be this trend.

Coldblood flowers themselves are inspired by a real world bloom if we go by the Japanese text.

Here are the descriptions—

“The pale vegetation is said to bud within deadblood in abandoned places. However, when its large petals have opened, it is a pure red higan flower.“

Higan flower is likely a reference to my very own beloved Lycoris Radiata, or the Red Spider Lily. In Japanese, they are called higanbana, literally meaning “flower of higan.” Higan is a Buddhist holiday for the autumnal equinox.

Spider Lilies can also be called corpse flowers or equinox flowers. They are very popular in East Asia, particularly Japan, and are often cultivated there by locals. These flowers bear their deathly names because they bloom primarily in autumn, usually in response to heavy rainfall.

They have also been planted on the graves of ancestors by Buddhists in order to pay respect to the deceased and to celebrate the advent of autumn, hence the further association with death. To add to the identity of these flowers, the link they have with cemeteries and the autumnal equinox inspired writings in the Lotus Sutra (famous Buddhist sutra) that described the flowers as being ominous plants that grow in Hell, eventually guiding the dead to their next reincarnation.

So, what do these death flowers have to do with deadblood flowers? Well, I think it’s worth noting that visible distinction we can see between the Japanese and English when referring to the Coldblood medium. It is called “dead blood” in Japanese, further clarifying that it’s meant to be corpse blood.

It makes sense that we can extract the dying wills of the fallen from this type of blood, and it also feels like Bloodborne’s equivalent of collecting souls from the dead like we did in Dark Souls. It appears to be a theme in Soulsborne that the soul is in the blood, and so when we extract the souls/blood from those who have passed on, we absorb part of their essence.

So, now we have these flowers that bloom from dead blood in abandoned places. Seems reasonable enough. I think that’s why they are so prominent in the Chalice Dungeons, places that have been long-lost. They are also dropped by Loran Clerics, which would make even more sense, because Loran is notably a lost civilization.

But that’s where my theory comes in, because I suspect it may also have to do with the cosmos and the Great Ones.

In Bloodborne the connection between Lumenflowers and the cosmos seems to be heavily implied. Lumenflowers or Starflowers, as they’re called in the Japanese, seem to provide aid in cosmic ascension. This idea comes from the Milkweed/Seedbed Rune.

The Japanese description follows:

The Caryll rune of "Seedbed." Become a Starflower stem that houses phantasms. A Caryll rune borne by the laboratory patient Adeline. It is a phonetic representation of damp sounds, whispered by inhuman voices.

It divinely reveals the way to attend the stars. Those bound to it become a starflower stem that aims toward the sky. As a Seedbed, phantasms become able to dwell inside you. Phantasms guide, perhaps they will bring even more discoveries.

When you become a seedbed or a Starflower stem, you become a host for phantasms that guide towards further ascension. The flowers literally connect you to the stars.

So, now my theory about Starflowers and Deadblood flowers is based around the concept of redshift and blueshift, mostly figuratively, but perhaps also literally?

To sum up what I mean, I think the blossoming of either of these flowers indicate how close or far away the cosmos/cosmic beings are to the earth and its inhabitants. When they draw nearer, the starflowers bloom (perhaps even with an intentional blueish hue like we see in the art above), and when the cosmos abandons a place, the dead flowers bloom with their red-stained petals. This is why i call it the redshift/blueshift theory, because here is the definition of the phenomena.

Redshift and blueshift describe the change in the frequency of a light wave depending on whether an object is moving towards or away from us. When an object is moving away from us, the light from the object is known as redshift, and when an object is moving towards us, the light from the object is known as blueshift.

It’s how astronomers determine things like if a star or planet is moving away or towards us. Redshift is a big part of the reason why we believe the Universe is expanding. We can see the red light in the distance.

So, in Bloodborne’s world…where the cosmos and its movement can be associated with the Great Ones, I suspect that the two flowers I’m analyzing might be connected to that. I mean, a Loran Cleric dropping a Deadblood flower in the depths of the Chalice Dungeons may not seem too significant, but it would make so much sense that the corpse flowers were blooming in the ruins of the places long-since punished and left behind by the Great Ones.

I think the inhabitants of both Loran and Pthumeru lost their ties to Greater Beings, hence why they were ruined by the beast scourge and their civilizations were lost. Now the Deadflowers bloom in red, marking the death and loss of divine favor. The cosmos moved away.

Meanwhile, the Starflowers are blooming in the shade of night under the stars, aiding patients like Adeline in ascension. They are everywhere, likely planted by the cosmos-obsessed Choir, who clearly figured out quite a bit about divine communication. Even the Living Failures are fought in a field of Starflowers and in the shade of an Astral Clocktower, with the Failures being able to call the stars to their aid. I think the symbolism is all there.

When the cosmos draws near, the Starflowers bloom. When it draws away, the Deadblood flowers bloom.

Redshift and Blueshift!

—

That’s the theory, haha. Short and simple, but it got stuck in my head a little while back when I discovered that the Deadblood flowers are called Higan Flowers in the Japanese. I adore the Red Spider Lily as a flower, so I got really excited about the connection. This theory is also so fun for me because…botany and astronomy are just such fun topics for me to explore, so I love it when I can apply them to Bloodborne. Miyazaki has such a habit of incorporating concepts from the two fields into his games anyway, so I’m always looking for the connections.

Thank you!

#i loved this #finally get to talk about my fav lyrcoris radiata too <3 #imagine giving a bouquet of those to your mortal nemesis #yes i have thought about that before don’t ask lol #heh #maria liking starflowers has to hold some symbolism as well but i am still trying to figure it out #anyway #bloodborne #bloodborne theory #mutuals #CrowNotes

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