#I love being kind I just wish other people loved being kind more
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there’s something so brilliant in cooper howard’s costume design - it’s so much more than just a simple blue and gold cowboy fit.
at the beginning of the show, before the bombs dropped, cooper howard was a good person - always kind to others despite the circumstances or how he was feeling in the moment.
you could say… he was exemplifying the golden rule.
this is evident in his costuming - cooper is decked out in gold even when the bombs dropped. the golden rule is still so close to his heart - i mean come on - look at how tight that bandana is around his neck.
even in certain lighting, his hat looks gold.
cooper howard being a good person and living by the golden rule is what barb probably fell in love with (she has her own interesting character analysis and thought process which i would love to discuss later). because this trait is so admired by her and those around cooper, she probably saw him as who she would hope future generations would become as they grow up in the vaults. people like him are the better future she envisions - so it’s no coincidence that the vault suit is in his colors.
what does the blue symbolize?
well, to me, i think it’s the corporate presence in the world. there’s more blue in the suit than there is gold - hinting at vaultech’s corporate greed, capitalism, and evil machinations. (there was also blue in his old cowboy costume - i.e. the presence of the studio and how they use cooper to push a mccarthyism narrative. kinda in the same way vaultech will use him)
the blue in the suit - symbolizing vaultech’s overwhelming presence and the reason for such a bleak and cruel world - does not swallow up the gold - the small semblance of humanity’s capacity to do and be good. it’s the small hint at barb’s intentions (analogous to the road to hell being paved with good intentions).
yet the man who was an inspiration for vaultech’s workers - the man who they all wished they could be like, the man who symbolized all the “do good” ideas they pass down to their children but in the end have no intention of following them (wink wink, looking at you, hank) - was in the end stripped of all his humanity by the world vaultech created (wow, would you look at that? another analogy for capitalism!)
this man, once rich in morals now robbed of them all, wanders the wasteland a ghoul. everything has been taken from him - symbolized being devoid of layers of skin.
now, he’s nothing but the ghost of the man he once was - haunted by what has been done. everything he wears as the ghoul is frayed, tattered, and dark - symbolizing that cooper howard, that kind and caring man before the bombs is dead.
but wait - is that…
you don’t see it? Ok, i’ll zoom in some more
GOLD? (perhaps even the same shirt he was wearing during the bomb drop??)
perhaps the golden rule, those values that he once held so dearly, are still there just dormant - waiting to be awaken again.
maybe cooper howard can come back… that just maybe there’s still hope for the good in humanity…
#fallout#cooper howard#the ghoul#fallout amazon#fallout spoilers#ghoul x lucy#lucy x the ghoul#lucy maclean#maximus#fallout series#barb howard#hank maclean#fallout tv series#fallout show#fallout prime#maximus x lucy#mr. house#fallout 2024#cooper x lucy#cowboy#character analysis#costume design
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Rage, rage | two
prologue | one | two | three |
Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC
Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she knows who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.
Warnings: violence, injuries, description of injuries, PTSD, bad language, again The King of Hybern...
A/N: so here it is, the second part. I really hope that you're all liking it. It's starting to settle, our protagonists are meeting and it's getting more interesting!! As always, any kind of support would be greatly appreciated! Thank you all for your time❤️
Nimue stands in the middle of her enormous room: a chamber so deep within her father's castle, it is carved directly into the mountain rock. She doesn't see natural light, hear the ocean waves, or watch birds fly.
Not that she has ever seen them. She simply knows they exist, how they sound, how they smell, because the Cauldron has told her so.
She observes her own reflection in the huge mirror on the wall. The girl she sees is truly beautiful. She possesses an ethereal beauty that seems to emanate from within her, as if she were imbued with the same magic that created her. Her long, silky hair falls in wavy cascades of silver, with flashes of light that seem to dance with every movement. Her eyes are of a hypnotic color, like the whitest of pearls, shining with ancient wisdom and fierce determination. Her skin is pale as the moon, yet it gleams with a radiant glow that seems to illuminate even the darkest night. Her figure is slender and elegant.
The reflection the mirror returns is that of an ancient, wise, powerful being.
However, she only feels like a child, surrounded by things she knows from others' words.
When her father isn't listening, Nimue asks the Palace cooks to recount to her what the world beyond the walls is like. In particular, it's the words of old Ferlan that she enjoys hearing the most: she describes the landscape beyond the cliffs on which the castle stands, the dense enchanted forests, the fertile plains where people live in beautiful villages, the beaches of black sand and cold water, the cliffs where giants were said to have once dwelled...
It's those stories that comfort Nimue's lonely heart, that shed light on her shadow-filled world.
Before she knows it, she's wandered so far in her daydreams that she doesn't even know what time it is.
That's when she feels it in the air, even before hearing it. That sweet scent that accompanies The Voice...
"You have everything in your power to be free, child," it whispers in her ear. The scent, the presence, like a smoke-shaped entity, swirls around her, caressing her cheeks and tucking strands of hair behind her ears. "No one would dare stand in your way. Once you decide, the world will bow to your will. Your father will submit to your will..."
Nimue violently shakes her head. The Voice steps back, but when she becomes still again, it clings to her skin once more.
"But father... what has he done to me?"
The Voice laughs, and Nimue feels like she's going to be sick.
"What has father done to you? You're foolish, child. Foolish. Foolish. Innocent. Foolish," it spits out word after word, and Nimue feels them like daggers.
"Father brought me into the world, father gave me life. I owe everything to father, and he asks me to fight in his name. To protect my people from those who wish us harm."
Nimue clings to her own words like a mantra.
"Father loves me..." she whispers into the air, for The Voice is no longer there with her. She wonders if it was ever really there at all, or if it was just feverish imaginings to soothe her own loneliness.
Father loves her. But she knows he's not a good person. Nimue knows what lies beyond, and she longs to see the sunlight, to see the sea, to feel the rain on her skin...
Nimue knows her father isn't a good person. But neither is she.
She knows she has to kill her father. But where will she find the courage? She only knows these four walls that surround her. What will she do when she kills him? Will the Cauldron be angry with her? What kind of child kills their own father?
She spins, and spins, and spins with the same questions for years. Since the moment she gained enough awareness in her fae body to realize that her "father" wasn't the hero of the story, and she was just another puppet in his conquest game.
The only thing she was sure of was that she wouldn't be the good one either. That she wouldn't let her father win that game.
With light steps, she leaves her room and decides to wander around the castle for a bit. Curiosity is what moves her.
In these past weeks, her father's castle has been filled with various guests of all kinds, a very diverse selection. The legions of the attor, her father's elite soldiers, the highest-ranking officials, there were even two males from Prythian and a few simple humans.
Humans. Nimue had been smelling them for weeks in every corner of the castle. That stale stench that seeped into her pores.
She wondered what reasons the King would have to bring humans into the cleanliness of his castle, but as always, even if she asked, the answer would be the same: politics is not Nimue's concern. Nimue only fights, fights, fights.
However, today the hallways were surprisingly empty. Empty of humans, attor, and even the guards.
Where was everyone?
And it was right at that moment, in that desolate and gloomy hallway, that Nimue noticed the silence.
There were guards all over the castle. Magical guards isolating something, someone. There was something blocking her senses, and no matter how much she extended her magical perception, she couldn't feel the Cauldron.
The Cauldron.
Her heart skipped a beat when she realized she was alone without the presence of the Cauldron. If until then she had felt lonely, she realized it was nothing compared to the pressure she felt in her chest.
What was happening?
She began to run, like a lost child in an enchanted forest.
While she had never seen the Cauldron after she emerged, she had always lived with its constant presence in the castle. She knew it was there, it comforted her, it kept her company. Sometimes she even believed that The Voice she heard was the Cauldron itself, seeking to keep her company.
She kept running, and running, and running, not knowing where to. As she turned a corner, she felt the need to grip the white stone wall so tightly that she felt a nail break.
What was that pain in her chest? By the Mother, she had never experienced an arrow to the heart, but she imagined that's how it must feel. What was happening to her?
As soon as she caught her breath, she continued running somewhere, with that throbbing pain between her ribs.
And she heard it:
My creature, my sweet creature.
She stopped abruptly, all senses alert and panting like a racehorse.
Come, princess. I have gifts for you. Follow my voice, sweet girl.
Nimue almost sobbed. That voice, sweet, like a mother's... The Cauldron was calling her.
She finally saw it clearly: she knew which doors to open, which stairs to climb, which corners to turn. She saw it so clearly that for a moment she was blinded by all that power that the Cauldron emanated.
"I'm coming!" she cried, desperate.
She knew which door it was behind, and when she opened it, the wave of power that greeted her completely stunned her.
And then she began to process her surroundings: in the throne room, there were all the guards, all the creatures that formed her father's court. All surrounding a truly grotesque scene.
Nimue put on the intimidating mask she had practiced so much, while her gaze danced from figure to figure: an Ilyrian (an Ilyrian male, she hadn't seen any!) lying on the floor, its black and powerful wings now nothing more than torn limbs and patches of skin. A little further away, another Ilyrian male (by the Mother, two in one day!), this one with an arrow lodged in his chest and kneeling in a pool of his own blood, next to him a beautiful blonde female with tears streaming down her face.
She kept looking, there was everything in that room. When everyone recognized her presence and turned to look at her, she felt as if time stood still as she advanced, making her way among the guards' armors. With her head held high and her curious gaze, she tried to calm her own nerves and continued observing.
There were humans there, those women her father had once called queens. Queens of what? Also that hateful Jurian, with whom she had coincided a couple of times, enough to decide he was nothing but trash. And two females...
Her gaze returned to the group beyond, where behind the Ilyrian she found a pair of fae, and unwittingly she recognized him, his darkness.
Rhysand.
She frowned and continued walking towards her father, circling the whole scene while feeling all eyes on her, following her graceful movements.
Come, child. And look at the gift, look at it...
And she set her eyes on the Cauldron.
She forgot about that phantom arrow lodged in her chest, and stopped next to her father, her gaze fixed on the Cauldron.
She felt her father's accusatory gaze on her, but putting that aside, he spoke:
"You arrive at the perfect moment, my dear daughter," and after those words, she felt as if everyone in the room breathed again after her untimely interruption.
What the hell was going on there? What was the High Lord Rhysand doing in her castle? Who were those accompanying him?
"You arrive at the perfect moment to witness the miracle of the Cauldron. To witness the demonstration these humans will perform for it..."
Her father continued speaking, but Nimue completely ignored him. She just stood there, next to the King of Hybern, and analyzed the whole situation.
The two fae males who had been hanging around her house for weeks, the blonde and the redhead, bound by her father's magic. Weren't they allies? Why was her father imprisoning them?
A little further away, the two guards holding one of the two human girls began pushing her towards the Cauldron.
She heard screams, pleas, denials from all sides. The King spoke, the human Queens, the fae female next to Rhysand, some of them shouting at each other.
But Nimue only had eyes for the poor human they were pushing towards the Cauldron.
What were they going to…?
And as if she were a feather, they lifted her above the edge of the Cauldron and submerged her in a single motion, plunging her until she lost sight of her.
Nimue felt pure terror. Memories that weren't hers flooded her.
Skin dissolving, bones breaking, desperate screams.
She screamed into the air, bringing her hand to her mouth to stifle the sob that escaped her chest. Her father stopped her by pulling on the leash, even before she had thought of throwing herself towards the poor girl.
Rage, rage, rage, rage, rage.
Everything that happened afterward was like a blink.
The Cauldron spat the girl onto the flagstones as if she were a fish out of water.
Look, child. I have given you a sister. I have created a sister for you.
Nimue breathed so fast she thought she was going to faint.
The people present were saying things, shouting, crying, laughing.
The other human fought tooth and nail against the guards, her screams piercing Nimue's eardrums, who only let herself be infected by the rage of that poor human.
Her rage. Rage. Rage.
The rage that boiled in every nerve of her being. It bubbled at the tips of her fingers, beneath her skin, in her eyes, everywhere.
If she opened her mouth, she felt like her own rage would burst forth in torrents, like a river after the snows.
Her rage was going to burst out, all over her father.
The second human kept fighting. Nimue never imagined the human spirit could be so untamed.
And the hand of that woman pointing at her father made something change in the air.
Nimue felt her leash loosen, felt her father getting a little nervous.
And she saw the moment.
She saw the weakness in the air, the King's doubt.
And she embraced it.
The second human emerged from the Cauldron, transformed into something.
And Nimue exploded.
A beam of white light burst from her chest, throwing her father backward. The King's head hit one of the columns, and everyone present in the room recoiled at such a wave of power.
What rage. What immense rage. It consumed her inside, burned her. So much, so much rage.
She raised an arm and pointed at her father, feeling how, again, energy rose from her feet to the tips of her fingers. She struck the King again with all that rage.
"You're a monster!" she shouted. She shouted it again and again, while feeling that with every pulse of power she directed towards him, she was gradually breaking down his shields.
However, the King of Hybern laughed, kneeling on the flagstones and trying to regain his composure. A venomous, disgusting laugh that made bile rise in Nimue's mouth.
In a last attempt to take control of the situation, Nimue raised a shield in the center of the room, around the Cauldron. In two agile leaps, she positioned herself next to Rhysand.
"Show me a place," she demanded. Rhysand clung to the brunette female beside him, tears streaming down his face. His gaze jumped from Nimue to the Ilyrian males, from the Ilyrian males to the new fae females, and back to Nimue. "Tell me a place and I'll get you out of here! Quickly, show me!" the princess demanded again.
The guards pounded Nimue's white shield again and again, and behind her, she felt the King of Hybern standing up.
Her gaze met Rhysand's again, and the male, trembling, took Nimue's hand.
"To Velaris," he managed to whisper.
Nimue didn't know how, but as soon as she heard the name, she knew exactly where it was, what it was. She chose whom to take: the two Ilyrian males, the beautiful blonde fae female, the two girls who had been submerged in the Cauldron, the female clinging to Rhysand, and finally Rhysand himself, whose hand Nimue held when she let her magic transport her and everyone else away from there. Away from Hybern. Away from her home.
To Velaris.
Taglist:
@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading
If you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know! Thank you for your support 🥰
#azriel x oc#azriel imagine#azriel x reader#azriel#acotar fic#acotar fanfiction#acotar#rhysand#cassian#azriel x female!reader#azriel x you
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The Luck-Bringing Cat
Jing Yuan x Fem!Reader; a shy former imperial concubine
The Apothecary Diaries-esque AU (I am kinda-sorta stealing this plotline from ep. 3), arranged marriage, budding romance, domestic fluff, pet names (JY calls Reader my dear, my love), Reader is also referred to as ‘my lady’ 🌿 3.162 words
Jing Yuan, a famed general and childhood friend of the emperor, has yet to take a wife. The emperor decides to solve this by giving one of his least favorite concubines to his best friend. Even though Jing Yuan is against this practice, he can't help but fall head over heels in love once he meets you.
Thank you so much to @a11eya for beta-reading this for me!
Only one man had managed to stay at the emperor’s side through most of his life. Jing Yuan, the son of imperial scholars, made friends with the crown prince early in their lives, and they quickly became inseparable. As they aged, Jing Yuan became an asset to the newly crowned emperor; a seasoned warrior, an accomplished general, a brilliant strategist, and one of the few people who dared oppose the monarch when needed.
The emperor loved him like a brother. And it worried him that Jing Yuan never seemed interested in taking a wife. The general was far from blind to the longing gazes of the women of the court, he accepted their offers on occasion but he never seemed to want more than one or two nights with any woman. The emperor did not see anything wrong with this as he himself split his time more or less equally between his favorite concubines. But any man who was less fortunate than the emperor should surely want something more stable, especially a man who was slowly getting through his best age.
When Jing Yuan was pressed about why he did not want to marry, he stated with a lazy smile that he had neither the time nor the energy for that kind of courtship. But the emperor saw the slight downturn of the corners of the general’s lips. He saw through the facade of his best and oldest friend.
I have neither the time nor the energy for that kind of courtship. But I desperately wish I did.
The emperor thought deeply about this issue. Then he remembered someone in the inner court. A concubine who had fallen from his favor at their first meeting. He had never spent time with you after that. Why, he had barely thought about you in years. Still, you were a beautiful woman, well-educated, and, from what he had been told, quite quick-witted. You would make a good gift for his best friend.
Now he just needed to convince Jing Yuan that he would not take no for an answer.
Jing Yuan was still unable to fully understand how everything had come to this. He could not fathom why the emperor suddenly wanted to give him one of the imperial concubines as a wife. Giving an unfavored concubine to a newly appointed officer as a reward was far from an uncommon practice, Jing Yuan was well aware of that. But he had never expected it to happen to him, not after so many years in service of the emperor. He had been lucky to manage arranging a meeting with you before the wedding.
This practice seemed so wholly unfair in his mind. Unfair to you and any other concubines affected by the custom. You had already been given as a gift to one man, now you were being given to another, neither of whom you had chosen for yourself. Jing Yuan knew there was little he could do about the situation, but he did not feel right accepting another human being as a gift.
He continued towards the palace gardens which had been chosen as the meeting place, still in deep speculation about whether he had any chance of changing the emperor’s mind.
Turning a corner, he was torn out of his thoughts when he came upon a small gathering of women, all of them wearing identical robes. One held a folded-up parasol. They were all calling out to someone in voices too hushed for Jing Yuan to discern any words.
Ladies-in-waiting, he thought, paying them little mind. Then, his eyes fell on you.
The emperor had shown him a painting of you, commissioned shortly before you had begun your journey to the palace. Even if some years had passed since then, Jing Yuan still instantly recognized you.
You stood at the top of a small bridge crossing one of the many creeks in the garden, your face tilted up towards a nearby tree. The setting autumn sun fell upon you at an angle that made your skin and hair glow. Tearing his gaze away from you, Jing Yuan looked towards the tree as well, his trained ears picking up the song of finches. For a moment he wondered if it might be the same flock that visited the small garden of his own residence. Turning his eyes back to you, he watched as you lifted a hand, holding it up towards the tree. A finch took off from a branch and landed on one of your outstretched fingers.
Until now your face had been mostly devoid of emotion, eyes fixed on the tree. But when the finch landed on your hand, looking calmly at you with one black eye, your features softened, a fond smile gracing your face like the sun appearing from behind rain clouds.
Jing Yuan watched you lift the bird closer to your face, whispering to it, your other hand coming up to gently scratch the top of its head. He unconsciously raised a hand to his lips in an attempt to hide the smile blooming there. If this was how you behaved with one of his beloved finches (and he was certain at this point that the bird was indeed from the flock he possessively thought of as his), if you acted so kind and loving towards the smallest of creatures with no prompting, then marrying you could quite possibly be one of the best things to ever happen to him. The thought of having you gifted to him still felt wrong, but… perhaps he did not need to dread it as much as he had at first.
Stepping forward, he cleared his throat, trying his best to school his features into a pleasant, if slightly detached, expression.
You gasped, raising your arm to hide your face behind your long sleeve. The finch took off, frightened by your sudden movement, and the rest of the flock followed it. The flapping of their wings filled the air, drowning out your greeting as you and your ladies-in-waiting bowed to him.
Jing Yuan felt another smile tug at his lips. He managed to hide it behind his hair as he returned your bow.
Your ladies-in-waiting quickly moved to one side of the walkway, letting him pass. He looked at you as he ascended the bridge. The way you peeked shyly at him over your still-raised sleeve made his heart clench. He sent you what he hoped was a pleasant smile, and nodded towards the path on the opposite side.
“Shall we, my lady?”
The two of you strolled along the garden path for a while, Jing Yuan filling the air with what idle conversation he could think of, and you giving brief, shy answers.
Then, he heard the flap of wings and felt the touch of tiny claws digging into his hair, brushing against his scalp. Soon, he felt a small tug as the finch began to preen him. He could barely help but chuckle when another finch landed on his shoulder. He felt your gaze on him, then your eyes moved to the bird on his far shoulder.
“Oh!” you exhaled.
Raising his opposite hand, he gently encouraged the bird to hop onto one of his fingers, then moved the hand -with bird- closer to you.
“I have worked quite hard on taming them over the years,” he said. “The most recent brood is the tamest yet; they are the only ones so far to actively seek my presence. Though I suspect they only come to me in hopes of food. Would you like to hold it again?”
You looked away, your sleeve rising once more to hide your face. “Again…” you said, sounding very put on the spot.
Jing Yuan tried to quell his laughter. “I must admit that I was watching you for a moment before making my presence known. What I saw was very… endearing.”
You were silent for a while, then you peeked at him over the top of your sleeve. “May I be frank with you, General?”
He nodded. “Please.”
Staying quiet for a few seconds, you then drew in a deep breath. “I was rather nervous about this meeting. I have heard quite a few rumors about you, about your excellence at anything you do. And I was worried that I might not be able to live up to the expectations of the august general. But… You handle these birds with such tenderness and care. They trust you. Maybe they can trust me too, in time.”
Looking off to the side, you finally lowered your sleeve, clasping your hands in front of you. “I am very fond of small animals. My family owned a couple of tame nightingales when I was a child; I used to love falling asleep while listening to their singing.”
He felt another smile tug at his lips. He too had pleasant memories of falling asleep to the sound of bird song as a child. Though in his case it had been the wild birds outside his windows lulling him to sleep. Sharing such a similar memory with you only made him feel delighted.
Briefly peeking at him, as if to judge his reaction to your words, you then continued, “I have always yearned for a cat too, but my parents would not allow it because of our birds. And I never mustered up the courage to request permission to keep a cat after I arrived at the inner court. Though I doubt the emperor would have indulged me.” You sighed ruefully. “I suppose even now, since birds are favored once again, a pet cat will be impossible. The birds will be enough.”
Jing Yuan looked at you for a moment, stroking his chin. “A cat is a pleasant idea. As the saying goes, ‘a cat well cared for may bring luck to its owner.’ Though if I had my way I should like a lion instead!” When he saw your eyes widen, your mouth starting to open in surprise, he could not stop himself from laughing once more. “I jest, I merely jest! A housecat will suffice! Perhaps we can teach it to leave the birds in peace, or keep it indoors at all times.”
The thought of keeping a cat locked inside, though he doubted it was truly achievable, brought his thoughts back to the way you had been hidden away in the inner court for years. His smile faltered. Would it be right for him to mention his hesitation? Would it assuage you to know that he was far from satisfied with how the situation was handled?
“If I may be so bold, my lady… You were not the only one who had a certain level of apprehension about this meeting.”
You shrank back a little, shoulders slumping. “I… see.”
Jing Yuan saw you raise your hand again, he could only assume to hide your face once more. Without fully realizing what he was doing, he reached out to take your hand in his.
“Please, do not misunderstand me, my dear! It is not because of you, it is the entire situation. I do not much like being given another person as a gift. And I find it wholly unfair to you to be given away once again.”
He had so much more to say on this subject, so many points to make about how the former concubines nearly always came out as the losers in these circumstances. And yet he felt his mind go blank. He brushed his thumb over the back of your hand in an attempt to gather his thoughts. It had the opposite effect. Your hand was softer and more delicate than he could have ever imagined; so different from his own strong, calloused hands. It took every last shred of self control to not raise it to his lips.
Releasing your hand with great reluctance, he forced himself to finish his thoughts. “I am loath to receive a wife under such circumstances, even if she is one I should have quite liked to court of my own volition, had I been allowed to. But in the end it is His Majesty’s decision. Even so, I can promise you this, my dear: No matter what may come, I will always do my utmost to ensure that we are both happy with this union.”
You grasped the hand he had held with your free hand, rubbing the skin, your head bowed enough that he could not see your expression.
“I-I…”
Then you raised your head again, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I must admit, I am quite relieved that you feel that way. That you understand the situation from my point of view too.”
Jing Yuan returned your smile. “As much as I am against this entire circumstance, I must admit… the more I get to know you, my dear, the more I am looking forward to you becoming my wife.”
The two of you talked for a while longer, then Jing Yuan escorted you and your ladies-in-waiting back to the inner court. Seeing the gate leading to the inner court left him with a sense of melancholy he could not quite place. Perhaps he had already grown so accustomed to your presence that the thought of being without you left him empty. It made him look forward to your wedding day even more.
One early morning, some six months later, Jing Yuan was found crouched over a rosebush in the small garden of his residence, pruning shears in hand. It was something he refused to give up, no matter how many people told him it was below his rank to tend to his own garden. Gardening was one of the few things that truly cleared his mind, one of the few still moments of the day that allowed him to relax. And today, he needed it.
He had already spent several hours lying awake, tossing and turning, his mind whirring, until finally giving up on sleep once he heard the first birds singing outside. Rolling over, he pressed a kiss against your bare shoulder, then left the bed to start his day.
The air outside was cold enough that his breath created little puffs of mist, the remnants of frost biting his cheeks. He paid it little mind; it helped clear his head. And so, he crouched over the few bushes that needed pruning this early in spring, settling into a calming rhythm as the world around him slowly grew from a milky gray to pink and orange.
His rhythm was disturbed as something brushed up against his knee. Looking down, he spotted the white kitten he had presented to you on your wedding day, just a few days before the new year began. You had been infatuated with the cat (as had he, as were both of you even now), and you had aptly named it Snowmoon in honor of the full moon hanging in the sky, casting lambent light over the snow-covered ground of the garden outside your windows.
The memory of that night still made him smile.
Snowmoon raised itself on its hind legs, the little bell on its collar jingling. It propped its front paws against his knee, and chirped imploringly. Jing Yuan could only assume that he had been so engrossed in his gardening that the sound of the bell had gone unnoticed.
How did you get out? he wondered as he picked up the kitten, holding it up in front of him.
The kitten returned his gaze evenly with its brilliantly blue eyes and began to purr. Cradling it to his chest, he stood, intending to put the cat back inside. It had yet to learn that the birds of the garden were off-limits. And the birds had yet to learn what the sound of the bell signified.
But as he stood, he caught sight of another figure in the morning light. You were bundled up in several layers of clothing, seemingly ready to spend a while outside.
Jing Yuan frowned. “What are you doing out of bed, my love?” he asked. “It is still so early.”
You looked away, trying to hide the shy smile forming on your lips. You were still not used to the terms of endearment which he favored.
“I wanted to lend you a hand,” you said.
He appreciated the sentiment. But he found it difficult to imagine you crouching in the dirt like he had been.
“There is no need, my dear, I am almost finished.”
Your mouth set in a stubborn line. “Then I will help with the last of it.”
The firmness in your voice made his heart flutter. He enjoyed all the work you put into getting to know him better. And he made sure to return it tenfold.
“Very well, my love. Let me just put this little rascal back inside.”
As he came outside once again, he found you crouched over the rosebush he had been working on, your long sleeves almost trailing in the dirt.
That will not do.
Jing Yuan pulled out the long ribbon holding his hair as he moved closer. Crouching behind you, he deftly wound it first underneath one sleeve, across your back, then underneath the other sleeve, tying it at your shoulder. His actions left your arms bare, sleeves far out of harm’s way.
You shivered in the cold air, goosebumps forming on your newly exposed skin.
Jing Yuan rubbed your arms, trying to get some warmth into your body. “You are still free to go inside.”
You huffed. “I will not.”
He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple.
Handing you the pruning shears, he showed you where to prune, guiding your hands. The two of you chatted idly about the roses for a while, when he expected them to bloom and what colors he had planted. Then the topic moved to the future as a whole.
“Tell me, my love,” Jing Yuan said, wrapping his arms around you, “I know you have only been with me for a few short months, but how do you like it so far?”
You leaned back against him, nestling further into his embrace.
“I enjoy it so very much. I appreciate the freedom I have, compared to the inner court. And…” You turned enough to meet his gaze, raising a hand to caress his cheek. “I have grown quite fond of the master of this house.”
He felt a smile tugging at his lips. “Oh? Do I need to be jealous of this man?”
“Perhaps,” you said, a smile lingering on your own mouth. “He has been very kind to me.”
“I suppose I shall have to be even kinder, then,” he said, before leaning in to press a kiss to your lips.
Maybe there really was something to the saying of ‘a cat well cared for may bring luck to its owner.’ Jing Yuan was certainly feeling very fortunate at that moment.
Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! If you like, you can check out my other works here. Love, Birin 💖
#hsr#honkai: star rail#jing yuan#fem!reader#arranged marriage#domestic fluff#budding romance#pet names#x reader#x you#drabble#drabbles
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I've been pretty positive about Yuu so far, but watching her magical girl story... hmm.
Basically I like everything about Yuu, but man that serial killer bit is the only thing that really sticks out as an overt bad choice. Having Nagisa stand around and watch Yuu kill people is such a weird choice, it feels more like fanfic than actual canon. Like this doesn't feel like something that could happen in Magia Record-- or hell, even in Madoka Magica either.
For example, Sayaka has a scene on a train where some dudes are being sexist assholes and it's left up to the viewer to decide if she kills them or not. It doesn't go: Sayaka killed them and also they were calling out for help the entire time while Madoka watched you know?
That said, this is something I can see in a bunch of the spinoffs (Kazumi, Oriko, Suzune), but I think everyone agrees that the spinoffs are of dubious quality. I love me the spinoffs but they're a hot mess.
I dunno. It's one thing to know that Yuu is a serial killer, it's another thing to have a character watch her go around and kill people and not intervene in any way. Especially in a story that goes out of its way to not do that. Walpy hitting Kamihama is noted to have no causalities at all (which goes a little too far in the other direction imo but it is what it is), Suzune isn't able to kill anyone in Kamihama and is dealt with by kicking her out (and not killing her), the deaths in arc 2 are mostly accidental and have massive consequences, everyone is forgiven in the end-- this isn't a story that really has "watch someone kill people and do nothing" in it's cards, you know?
I actually liked Nagisa's Wish for a lot of things. For example, I like that Nagisa didn't think she could be a magical girl until she saw Yuu, because she assumed that magical girls had to be good people-- aka, Nagisa did not think she was good. But that's not because Nagisa is a bad person. Nagisa is just unloved, and since she's a young kid, she's internalized that to mean that something is wrong with her, not that something is wrong with her mom. It's heartbreaking to see her go from "I can't be a magical girl," to seeing Yuu the murderer, to then going "oh okay if she can be a magical girl then so can I." Like sweet pea, your mother not loving you is not the same as being a killer. You've done nothing wrong. You are not a bad person for having Feelings and Emotions about the neglect you are experiencing.
However the serial killer/organ seller bit just goes too far for me and it kind of overshadows a lot of the better ideas present in Nagisa's Wish. Like how can you focus on the interesting ideas about justice or self worth when there is a serial killer/organ stealer walking around.
I think that the best qualities of Yuu are her design and how creepy she is-- having her actually go all the way and be a serial killer/organ seller actually makes her less creepy in my opinion. Yada yada, less is more, leave it up to the viewer's imagination. If she was just off, if we just knew that something was wrong with her and that people are disappearing but it's not outright stated what she's doing... I dunno. That would make her a lot more scary to me. A lot of fear can be found in apprehension and outright telling all the details will fill in too many gaps.
Like, the things that we all like about Yuu would be her voice direction, her memory issues, the way her Live2D is designed to be slightly off kilter from everyone else, the gap between her attitude and the darkness she engages in, the weird weaponry she uses and how it changes the way she walks/moves-- all of this is effective because it is offputting and different, not because the narrative is telling us "hey she kills people and sells their organs."
Basically I really love Yuu, but I do have some criticisms for her character and I understand why some folks don't like her.
That said, it did lead to this fantastic line from Kyubey so like,
You take some, you lose some.
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Can we have kalim's ending for the yuu auction as well? I was pretty excited for his outcome
of course of course!
parts 1 | 2 | 3
summary: a kalim ending
type of post: short fic
characters: kalim
additional info: yuu is gender neutral, this is maybe a little short, hi kalim :)
"Problems don't just go away when you throw money at them, you know," Vil says. The tone of his voice is sour, and he's making no effort to hide it. "You'll have to actually take some responsibility."
Leona rolls his eyes. "Oh, shut it. They're not a pet, they can handle themselves. You're just butthurt it wasn't you,"
"And yet, here you are, still moping just the same," he snaps back. "Kalim, congratulations. I'm sure the prefect will- where'd he go?"
Despite their best efforts, Kalim hadn't heard a single word of the other housewarden's well wishes (and warnings).
He was gone before they'd even started, in fact.
Even with all he'd had prepared beforehand- the new room, the uniforms, all of your favorite foods- there was suddenly a list a mile long on his mind.
First, he had to get you.
Then, he had to show you around your new place.
Then, dinner.
Followed by dessert, of course.
(Maybe a light appetizer to start? Why hadn't he thought of that already?!)
And then he'd treat you to an evening of your favorite songs, laughter, and fun.
So on, and so forth.
Kalim may be a little oblivious at times, but your poor condition at Ramshackle is no secret to anyone. He'd been talked out of helping more than once before- and, so, this was his chance.
The gravity of technically owning a person who doesn't legally exist in this world hasn't crossed his mind even once. The way he sees it, he gets to host you indefinitely, take you on vacations with his family, treat you to the life you deserve after all you've done for everyone, and no one can tell him no.
Though, something still sits in the back of his mind, something that asks him to walk before running. A voice of reason.
If Kalim had a shoulder angel and devil, both of them would somehow be Jamil:
"I would advise taking it easy on them as they adjust. This whole spectacle must have been difficult for them. You're a good listener when you try. Now's a chance to show that,"
More than anything, Kalim wants to impress you.
Such a thought would make anyone else scoff- the gold and jewels and magic carpets aren't enough?
And his answer would be... well... no.
Kalim possesses many things. He has entire houses full of treasure, trinkets, fine silks, servants at his every whim... and yet, he's still missing something crucial. Something he's become more and more aware of since coming to NRC.
A bond.
Of course, he loves his siblings. And his parents. And the students in Scarabia. And the students in the other dorms. He might consider all of the above friends, but not at the emotional level he seeks. Jamil is a work in progress. But you- you're already well-acquainted, and friendly. You're a gracious guest, a great listener, and... well, you had the kind of bond he looks for with so many other people on campus.
Why else would everyone be lining up to pay to be your friend otherwise?
(That's how he saw it, anyway).
So, he listens. Makes an effort to, anyway. He even stops feeding Grim at dinner when you ask him to.
"Oops!" he says, offering the direbeast a gold-lined handkerchief to wipe around his mouth. "But it's good, right? Jamil's family recipe is always delicious!"
You quirk a smile at him. "I liked it. Grim?"
Grim mumbles something indistinct and crawls to sit on the other side of you.
"I'm glad! I remember you telling me that you miss it from your home- I can't believe some of our recipes are so similar!" he beams. "Maybe Scarabia will start feeling like a home to you, too, then!"
You laugh, a little awkwardly. "Aha... maybe. This is all just so sudden,"
"But... good, right?"
"Yes, good," you smile, tilting your head to the side. "It's a step up from being Crowley's errand-runner and sleeping in the cold, at least."
"Well, you'll certainly never be cold here!"
He laughs again, and a murmur of agreement ripples through the students in attendance, all the way down to the end of the long table.
"Ah... Kalim, this is nice. Really nice... I don't know how I'm going to repay you for any of this,"
"Pay? Like with money?" he raises an eyebrow. "You're my guest, and an honorary member of Scarabia now, so you don't have to do anything but relax."
That's not exactly what you meant, though you don't have the heart to explain what exactly Crowley's care had been like.
"...Right. But really, if you need anything done- I'll be glad to do it,"
He's quiet for a moment, thinking. "Well... if you're really bored, I'm sure you could find something to do. We have lots of board games,"
"No, I meant like, work,"
Kalim blinks. "Why would you have to work?"
You should've just let it go. Now this is getting embarrassing, admitting all that Crowley had you do when you had no say in the matter.
"You know... to earn my keep,"
"Earn your..." he squints. "You don't have to earn anything. Having you here is reward enough for me!"
Sometimes his oblivious nature can be a little comforting.
And even though it's dark, his positivity is as radiant as the sun... you can't help but return his smile.
"Alright, then,"
"Alright! Now..." he says, looking around the table. "Who's ready for dessert?"
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I'm not sure why anyone would be upset about Colin gaining experience when the whole point is him understanding why he's not as invested in that sort of thing because there's no emotional connection between him and his partners which in turn makes him examine his relationship with Penelope when he realizes how he feels about her. It's sex vs making love here and because he's yet to really be in love those experiences will pale in comparison to being with Penelope. That's the whole point. While some want Colin to be a virgin along with Penelope to gain that experience together, there's something to be said about Colin understanding he was doing it wrong hence why he felt nothing more than gratification, if that. He doesn't yet understand the act of making love because he's never been in it so he's merely sating a physical need. I would want him to have more practical knowledge than Penelope. The better to pleasure her with, you know?
No that totally makes sense anon!
I can’t speak for everyone but I’m not angry or anything over the choice of him being with other people before Penelope because, like you said, he probably doesn’t understand the difference between just purely sexual satisfaction and making love with some you cherish and care for. And we could be entirely wrong on this lol.
I personally wish we could see more tropes of teens/young adults falling in love and learning their sexual awakenings together. And I know the above and what I’m about to say isn’t the case with Polin, but I find a lot of the preferred romances to be a bit icky/a power imbalance with wanting someone who has so much experience being with someone who has none. It kind of gives me the ick anymore and that’s why I think it’d be nice to see something a bit different from time to time.
Again, not saying this is Polin at all or really any of the Bridgerton couples, it’s just something I’ve noticed within the genre as a whole that irks me.
#bridgerton#polin#bridgerton s3#bridgerton season 3#penelope x colin#colin x penelope#colin bridgerton#penelope featherington#ask#answer
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I really wish Buck’s big arc last season had been the leadership thing that they started out with. The sperm donor and death arcs didn’t really go anywhere or change anything for him, when a leadership arc could’ve led to a lot of tangible growth.
It started off great, with Buck getting pissy about not being interim captain. It showed exactly why he shouldn’t be captain anytime soon: he acts on emotions first and logic second, especially when he perceives something to be a personal judgment against him. That isn’t the person you want leading a team, and Mr “I cannot handle anyone else getting hurt” is clearly not someone who’s comfortable sending other people into danger, which is part of being a captain.
But then it got completely dropped until the finale, which…didn’t really tie into leadership anyway. He just ran around saving everyone himself. He wasn't actually leading anyone or doing any kind of real, on scene coordinating like a captain would—Maddie did more of that than he did.
This arc could've continued all season in the background and involved the whole team, with Bobby giving Buck opportunities to take point and give him feedback. Chim could’ve talked about why he didn’t like being captain, Eddie could’ve talked about his experience as a staff sergeant in the military, Bobby’s early years as a captain, he could’ve talked to Hen who was chosen as interim captain.
If he’d gotten actual, tangible feedback from the people around him, he could’ve gone through so much conscious development and growth that would affect every part of his life. He could’ve worked on taking a second before reacting to a situation to think it through, which is something that has repeatedly gotten him into trouble. He could’ve learned how hard it is to send the people you love and care about into danger, especially when one of those people disobeys orders and goes off half-cocked.
If we'd seen him spend all season learning that and then in the end he took command, actually acted as the IC, and coordinated with other houses to save his team, that would've felt more like an actual arc that impacted him, his life, and how he functions on the job.
Maybe he could’ve overlooked something that another captain caught to really drive home that he isn’t ready yet, but he would still have that knowledge and experience to use in the future, even if he isn’t captain anytime soon. We could see him coordinating or helping out where necessary. He could be Hen’s 2IC when she’s the captain. He could use those skills to problem solve in all areas and see the bigger picture, something he’s always struggled with.
I’m just annoyed that what could’ve been a great season backbone and a vehicle for the growth and maturity that Buck keeps missing got ignored for sperm donation and a death arc that didn’t lead to anything.
#like what was the point of him getting pissy about it and then doing nothing about it#it came off like a temper tantrum that he got over once he had a snack#s6 drives me nuts in every way#911
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ARE WE AFFIRMING YOUR GENDER?! IS THAT WHAT WE’RE DOING?!
Sci, first of all, I’m so sorry your dad said that listing your pronouns is embarrassing. It’s 2024. What’s embarrassing is being a parent who cares more about what other people think of them than what their child thinks of them. People don’t have to understand you, they don’t even have to agree with you, but if someone says they love you, the least they can do is make the attempt to show you they respect your identity as an individual person. I know this is particularly difficult for parents sometimes but it’s not impossible. I sincerely hope that someday your dad realizes how spectacular you are and how lucky he is to have the opportunity of knowing and loving someone as truly kind, funny, and generous as you are.
Second of all, LET’S GIVE ANOTHER SHOUT OUT TO THOSE PRONOUNS. Oooo I like the way you wear he/him. It’s loud, it’s rebellious, it’s confident, it’s authentic! It’s everything those angry white boys with podcasts WISH they were! You are entering your “boys will be boys” era and it’s covered in bright colors, zany patterns, sequins, and ATTITUDE.
I am so fucking proud of you for taking this big scary step into being your true self and laying it bare before the world. Just last night I was thinking about how one of the reasons I was so miserable in my 20s was because when I was around 21/22 I went back into the closet to make myself “more palatable” for the people around me. Less confusing for them. Less work for them. And I’ll never actually know what experiences I lost when I lost myself. I’ll never know what I could have done, the opportunities and stories and memories I missed out on because I was only living as half a person. I’m back on track now though, and the good news for you is: now that you’ve taken this step you never have to ask that question again.
I’ve gotta say, Sci, announcing your true pronouns is definitely one of the sexiest things you could ever do. And Wade agrees. <3
hooougghh bless you @nobutforrealthough - you're so cool and sexy and ough...
i feel so very exhausted in the head lately about identity things. i think a lot of people thought i was some kind of gender icon when really i'm just piecing things together as best as i can. i feel a little exhausted that people thought so much of me and i'm not delivering on it. (but i've felt that way all the time, all my life, from pretty much everybody.)
i guess it's difficult to do all this alone, without anyone in your corner. i think writing wade and peter, they sort of felt like friends to help me through it, because i don't really have anyone else out there to help me through and speak to me on my level. so – i kind of had to invent voices to give me courage. and it helps. but i worry that it's a little sad, too. sorry. i'm feeling very frank and bare this morning.
it's a lonely old world when you still haven't figured out where you fit in it. and maybe you're not meant to fit. but you kind of do need to fit, for your sanity. for your survival. so you contort and compromise and squeeze yourself into weird shapes and bug your head. and it's all so, so exhausting for me. and i think my body's finally telling me it's time to retire. my body is so, so tired...
#sci speaks#i want to be loved for me.#not for who i can pretend to be.#not for what i can “pull off”.#i want sad little lazy tired me to be treasured too. for being weak. for being lazy. for just wanting to sit around in my undies and cry.#tired of having to be a hero . for having to be an example . for having to put on a good show#ohhgh i'm so tired...#i love sad little lazy me. i love when i love sad little lazy me. sad little lazy me deserves to be loved#just as much as restless gender icon me#sighs. i wish you guys really Knew me. not just all of this text on the internet.
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I feel like I need to sleep more cos I just had the weirdest everlark fic prompt
Basically it's sperm donor Peeta/donor receiver Katniss.
Let me preface this by saying I don't know that much about what happens when you want a sperm donor, in this scenario I am assuming that someone can donate sperm and then it is sent off to someone who needs it, they can still meet up or in the future ask if the father wants to meet his children but otherwise it is sort of anonymous.
I kinda just Invision Peeta needing the extra money and well it's kind of a noble job, helping people have the children they never could by jacking off (eh sounds better in my head)
Then comes Katniss who is not with anyone guys come one, but does want to have children, like come on she's so mom coded. While I also wish adoption was more pushed there are always going to be people who want their children to be blood related in someway.
And they meet up once Katniss has just received the donor, where they meet up could be anyway, but most likely a coffee shop or bakery. Then y'know they hit it off but Katniss starts to show signs that she's pregnant so Peeta instantly goes uh oh she's with someone and starts to become cold, then Katniss basically has to force the information out of him and he relents but doesn't tell the whole truth, basically saying that he thinks that her partner wouldn't be happy about them being too close (this boy is so wimpy sometimes I love him)
Anyways Katniss says there's no one and explains everything, now I don't doubt that Peeta might have an inkling that it could be his child but I mean there are still plenty of other sperm donors out there.
This all culminates with either Peeta and Katniss getting together before the birth of the child or after where they discuss their feelings, then once the child starts growing a bit they notice some similarities, Katniss now knowing that Peeta donates sperm probably got a little suspicious. So they contact the hospital/agency??? To find out who is the father, wabang big surprise it's Peeta.
They live happily ever after and they give each other smooches
#everlark#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#the hunger games#thg#everlark headcanons#hunger games#thg nonsense#thg fanfiction#everlark fics#fic prompt
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IS ANYONE ELSE FEELING KIND TODAY!!! IS ANYONE ELSE FEELING GENEROUS TOWARDS OTHER PEOPLE!!! IS ANYBODY ELSE BEING KIND AND TRYING TO UNDERSTAND EVEN WHEN ITS HARD!!! IS ANYONE ELSE ASSUMING THE BEST OF OTHERS INTENTIONS AND RESPONDING IN KIND!!!! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME
#having a day ^_^#I love being kind I just wish other people loved being kind more#people on the internet are SO FUCKING MEAN TO EACH OTHER???? its a terrible phenomenon#I have never seen people in real life treat others badly with the horrifying proportion of hate I see online#please. try to be kinder try to be more patient even when its frustrating#I have changed minds and deescalated arguments SO many times by being kind.#if someone is spouting misinfo in a furious rage and they're saying hurtful things? try responding with patience and kindness#even when you don't feel they deserve it. because one of 2 things usually happens#EITHER. they immediately shift their tone because you're talking to them like an equal and not an idiot#OR they continue to be horrible and it makes them look really nasty. its not a good look!! most people won't do the second thing!!#hateful online arguments has turned my mental health into a disgusting stew in the past#since I started being kind out of sheer frustration my mental health has improved a thousandfold#listen. sometimes its okay to be mean. if someone tells you to kill yourself I dont think its appropriate to give them patience and kindnes#BUT. if you treat someone like they're stupid. even if you're right!!! they won't listen to you or consider your words!!#because admitting you're right means admitting that they're stupid like you think they are. that feels bad so people won't do it#my wisdom. today I am so tired
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There's always a slight yearning in the back of my mind wishing I had been born in the right place, time, family situation, income level, etc. to have just lived in one single house for my entire life. Imagine being born in a place that still suits you, even through all of your personal evolutions and etc. The idea of deep familiarity with an area because you've lived and explored it for 40+ years, being encased in a web of memories and connections. Being able to clean out your old childhood bedroom and find personal artifacts, to dig in the yard and remember. I know those lives can still be plenty imperfect, but there's just something so seemingly solid and stable and Grounding about it that I sometimes wish I could have.. (At least from my outside perspective as someone who's moved around a bit geographically and even within the same area, never lives in the same house/ apartment /etc. for more than a few years usually.) Like... having a place that is printed upon, fully your own, rather than chronically a visitor, every thought of a space always tempered with the notion that one day soon you'll have to pack it all up again, etc. There's something peaceful about the permanence.
#I think also because I'm a very nostalgic person - THOUGH not in the way that somep poeple mean when they say nostalgia because I've realiz#ed that to some people apparently it means like.. more of a sad emotional thing? Or when I talk about being nostalgic they say 'me too' and#then describe how they're always depressed dwelling on the past wishing they could revisit it and replaying it and feeling sad and etc.#Whereas for me - it's not in a deep or emotional way at all. It's very detached - kind of like someone who is doing like a scientific#cataloguing of something? I don't feel any remorse or sadness or longing or sitting there sobbing for hours over people/pets I've lost or#etc. It's more like a fun contemplative excercise and extension of self analysis plus just documentation. Like I know your memory fades as#you get older OR even as stuff is actively ongoing humans have terrible recall - even the ones who are less emotional/more focused on#accuracy our minds still twist things or etc. SO I looove to have documentations of everything possible so that in the future I will have#as full and complete of a view of myself as I possibly can. sure the image will undoubtedly be a little distorted but having real evidence#of how something was at a time is very valuable. You look through old messages or letters or something and you always find other alternate#versions of yourself. Not in a worse way like inherently inferior Previous Models Of You who haven't yet been perfected but even just in a#neutral way like 'what they're saying is not a BAd thing but also is not how I would say that today.' etc. ANYWAY I find it really interest#ing to document and remember things and love revisiting the past - not in a sad way - but just like. curiosity. reminiscing and recalling#and filling in gaps. or trying to have the same feeling I felt at a previous time so I can remember what it was. Collecting information for#documentation purposes. Like for example - I would love to go back and tour all of my old childhood houses/apartments. Not to like#sit in the middleof them and cry and go 'ohhh my childhood waughhh' - but literally because I want to take detailed photographs so I#can remeber exatly what they looked like and recreate them in sims or some other digital way. Why? idk. just to gather the information. If#I ever live to like 80 years old and I'm still reflecting on my life curious about the dteails of it. I want to be able to fire up my#ancient windows 10 laptop I've kept all these years and open up the sims 4 and tour my old home with accuracy etc. ??#Not sure why really. Maybe an extension of how I generally care a lot about having an 'accurate' view of things? Like I would rather be#accurate than be happy. I don't understand 'ignorance is bliss' because I would always rather know. I always always in any situation am mor#focused on 'what is the well researched practical truth' than about 'how does this make me feel' or etc. Truth above ALL else even if it#were to make me miserable. Aka why I'm a 'boring' 'annoying' 'UM actually..' type of killjoy lol because it's very hard for me to understan#that some people can enjoy something or have a good time even not knowing the full facts of a situation or etc. BUT anyway. since that is#some core driver of my personality for whatever reason (just the plague of ennegram type 5 perhaps lol) maybe that also drives me to my#kind of minor obsession with like 'I must have a complete view and calatoguing of my life that is as accurate as possible within the means#i have' . Is it REALLY important for me to know the exact layout of on of my first childhood bedrooms? no. materially it does nothing for m#in life. BUT hey. it would make a great addition to the Accurate Life Story Catalogue lol. ANYWAY.. But I think a lot of wanting to live in#one place forever is not just the ease of documentation. but the sense of having a constant. Much of what i crave most in life is stability#& familiarity &routine bc of how my brain works. And it just would feel so good to be Settled. Never uproot again. One little place FOREVER
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(Mini little fic idea, post Vecna)
Eddie wanted Steve and Wayne to get on, and at first, he was utterly ecstatic when they did.
But Steve starts to come over to watch various sports games, laughing and jostling with Wayne on the couch whenever one of their teams wins a point, or scores a goal or whatever, Eddie starts feeling inadequate and useless.
He watches from a distance, too wary to approach, too scared of upsetting the equilibrium. After all he's spent years rolling his eyes and grumbling about football and baseball and basketball to take a seat next to them now. He's more than made his bed now, years of sulky teenagehood in the making. It's not their fault, he knows. It's all his own, a drama of his own creation.
He watches as Wayne laughs and jokes, haphazardly waving his beer and cackling with delight, with the sort of son that he deserves. A son that brings calmness and stability instead of late night police escorts and a mountain of medical bills.
The empty, cavernous hole in his chest aches as he sits there (pretending to work on his campaign), through game after game, match after match. Wayne had given up so much for him. He could have had a family of his own, instead of raising his brother's useless, wretched kid. He could have gotten married, had a real home and an easy life. A beautiful, doting wife to give him the world.
Instead, Wayne had been cursed with a fuck up for a nephew, a shitty fold up bed in a shitty trailer and a job that was ageing him before his time. A vexing, frustration of a life that he didn't deserve. That Eddie had made worse by default.
Eddie knew he was selfish, and loud, and easily excitable and distracted. That he was used to getting his own way in these walls, barely noticing and sacrificing a thing while Wayne quietly suffered instead. It had been the same for his parents. They'd wanted a normal kid too, but even his dad's temper hadn't been enough to dampen his ability to irritate.
He'd tried to be quieter for Wayne in the past. Better behaved, his personality crammed into a tiny internal box to make himself more palatable, easier to love and want around. But Wayne had been offended by it. Claimed Eddie shouldn't have to change himself for anyone, not even his guardian, to be honest with who he is.
But looking over at them now, Eddie felt like he should have tried harder. Sure, 'being himself' was the fucking care bear motto spat out by well meaning adults trying to convince the weird kids they'd be ok. But he could have tried harder not to be so difficult, he could have watched Wayne's sports games with him and graduated high school and handed over his earnings instead of buying dumb shit.
The gnawing, desolate guilt consumed him. Steve was sweet, charming and polite, a parents dream (also...absolutely fucking gorgeous and the best sex Eddie had ever had, but that was besides the point). He could understand why Wayne has found it easy to befriend him, hell Eddie unquestionably loved the bones of him, but it put in sharp relief how Eddie just didn't measure up to the barest minimum standard, let alone what his uncle deserved.
So instead, he started taking on extra shifts at work, pulling as many as he could so that he could try and convince Wayne to drop his hours and start taking it easy. He kept the house tidy and even helped nurture the blossoming little something that was growing between Wayne and Claudia, spending more nights with Steve so that they could canoodle out of sight of Dustin's sullen glares.
He was exhausted, but it was worth it to see Wayne less on edge, back on the day shift since Eddie was finally picking up the slack. Now he had time for 'guy nights' with Steve, expanding to include Sinclair and the newly resurrected Chief Hop too.
"You're a good kid, Ed." Wayne told him one evening, and despite everything, Eddie was unprepared for the avalanche of emotions that it unlocked.
I'm not, I'm not, I'm not.
His brain chanted, automatically.
But I want to be.
#eddie munson#wayne munson#steddie#Wayne Munson/Claudia Henderson#munderson#?#Wadia? Clayne?#Eddie wanting his two favourite people to bond and then using it to self sabotage under his own insecurities#because what's more important? self expression or family?#inside he's an insecure little boy that thinks he's gotta be good to be loved...and he's starting to get scared he's not good enough#especially after the Vecna stuff...he feels like he has to make up for it all#(of course this all comes crumbling down when Wayne calls him out for being 'normal' but that's another story)#i wish we'd got more of the tiny little Munson family...just one scene where they interacted 😭#i kind of think they're a little bit dependent on each other...a solid family of two learning to add more people in#stranger things ficlet#unbeta'd we die like season 4 vol. 2's canon on this hellsite#(basically Eddie is not used to sharing Wayne and it unlocks The Fear in him)
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One of the best Voyager scenes to indicate Tuvok & Neelix's dynamic and how I think Tuvok is just as if not more 'annoying'(positive) than Neelix is when Neelix pours Tuvok a fresh squeezed glass of a fruit juice blend and Tuvok's like (paraphrased) "I don't want to drink this." and Neelix is like "Can you please try it?" and Tuvok's like "I don't want to, you're really bad at this sort of thing. It's going to taste bad." and Neelix says that Ensign XYZ said she LOVED it, she even had a second glass! And Tuvok says Ensign XYZ could drink poison without a second thought and Neelix is like "Tuvok could you please just TRY it? Just try a little SIP of it PLEASE??" and Tuvok sighs and rolls his eyes and sniffs it before taking a sip and it turns out he loves it. Turns out it tasted good actually. And then after all that Neelix tries to talk to him over eggs (which he's again cooking fresh for him) and Tuvok tells him he doesn't wanna hear "the life history of his breakfast." Absolutely insufferable this man I would have burned his eggs on PURPOSE!!!!
#I love Neelix so much and I think he and Tuvok are very funny together - irritating4irritating#People say 'Neelix is so pushy with Tuvok!' and you know what? I think Tuvok can handle it. I think maybe he does need to be pushed -#down a flight of stairs. (he's my favorite character and he's so annoying...TUVOK!!!!!)#Tuvok: -kicking and screaming- I don't want to drink the juice!!! It's poison!!! You're trying to poison me!!!!!!!!!#Neelix: Can you please drink the juice. The fresh squeezed juice I made for you Mr. Vulcan??? Can you please???#Tuvok: Fine but if I die it's your fault. If I die from the poison you're FORCING me to drink it's on y- Oh this is delicious actually.#and don't tell me 'Neelix didn't make it SPECIFICALLY for Tuvok' bc I know he didn't but he says#'I'll start squeezing that second glass!' after Tuvok finishes his sip so he IS freshly squeezing it#Neelix: -makes Tuvok fresh squeezed juice-#Tuvok: Are you trying to poison me???#Neelix: -talks to Tuvok while making his eggs-#Tuvok: Can you be quiet???#<- TUVOK!!!!!!!! I'M GONNA KILL YOU EHHEHEHEH <3#Tuvok is the most annoying guy ever bc he doesn't care about what people think and is a snob with a lowkey superiority complex#vs Neelix is perceived as annoying (post his relationship with Kes) bc he cares a lot about being useful and helping the crew and sometimes#is too pushy because of that but listen...I think Neelix is sweet and genuinely trying his best - after the Kes plotline with him ends I#really don't find him objectionable. Just chatty & a bit overbearing maybe Meanwhile Tuvok !!!#Meanwhile Tuvok!!!!!!!!! HHEHEHHE#st voyager#star trek voyager#I think they should have done more with Neelix thinking the crew of Voyager were spoiled - specifically how Tuvok acts Like That sometimes#little lord Tuvok. oH SORRY...for DEIGNING to speak while preparing your eggs your HIGHNESS!!#I think people do a disservice to Tuvok by not talking more about how he's kind of a hardass and a snob v_v also a disservice to Janeway#indirectly bc her bestie is kind of a hardass and a snob and what does that say about her??#I also wish Neelix kept up a bit of that 'these people are crazy and also so soft oh my god shut up about the food being bad - we're trying#to SURVIVE!!! Eat the Leola Root!!' from the earlier seasons...I like when he shows he has a bit of bite#It's just funny and interesting that Janeway isn't friends with Tuvok bc he's 'not like other Vulcans' - she's friends with the most#Vulcany Vulcan ever and I love that for them.#CRIMINAL that we don't ever get any in-depth insight into their friendship#Tuvok
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#i kind of want to kill myself. im so disconnected from anything. i have no original thought. everything is scripted#everything is just put together pieces from things ive heard elsewhere and i do not have a single original thought#everyone can see that im masks all the way down and everyone can see that i am nothing underneath and even that is a stolen way of saying it#i have no way of making nothing palatable but i am simply nothing. invite me over and ill try to adapt to you and write a new script based#off new media but if you make me truly comfortable and somehow manage to unplug my behavior then youll be rewarded with me just sitting#beside you on the floor and staring at whatever media you show me without speaking much and only occasionally seeking further warmth from#you#i vocalized it to someone close recently but im a nothing void and i wish people all acted in exactly the way i wanted regardless#i have selfish fantasies about people just doing everything to make everything easy for me and if i were a god i would be an entirely#selfish one#if the right people would go and stay as i please even though im a nothing void and dont deserve them around#if they would all do whatever i needed like gave me cuddles or sex or affirmation or money or treats#if life was one long cycle of being the most treated god by everyone then maybe i could be something i dont know#maybe something could be manifested into me#everyone already projects an idea onto me so maybe a collective idea held by all with a great deal of love would make whatever they say of#me true and maybe then id exist fully#until then oh well#though in reality im just sanitizing a bit. having others fully as puppets serving me isnt something that i want because i think itll “fix”#me by any measures and id likely only grow far more sadistic and selfish but i wish for that world because i could live in perfect comfort#i could do anything i wanted and have anything i wanted and nobody would stop me#sorry this is just like. a long rambling in tags. i should shut up now
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went back to the sketchbooks around when i was going through yyh for the first time in 2019 and found a pile of near-yearly sticky note updates about my relationship with the series next to my first yyh doodles, a page full of kuwabaras. thought it'd be fun to share
+ more thoughts and old yyh art below
(it's crazy i didn't find any kurama-centric pages for months bc i think he's the one i doodled in the margins of class notes and stuff the most. his hair's pwetty and he gives me the least trouble outta any of the main 4)
something i noticed while skimming the two sketchbooks i took these from was how mean i was to myself at the time about my art. i guess it hit me more because i don't really spend hours going through my old sketchbooks over and over to track my progress and growth like i used to quite often. i guess it was only a little after when my self esteem was lowest (8th grade, tale as old as time), but... idk. i knew back then that i'd grown a lot in the few years since i started drawing more seriously (that's why i looked through my art so much), but like... i guess that never translated into being nice to myself about it. i ended up going back through about ten more sketchbooks to find more yyh art, and in the coming years i'm glad to say that negativity in the margins went away. hell yeah
but even so, my love for yyh was a constant and effusive thing, as it is now. it's probably the oldest of my current media interests. i watched myself get into rgg and develop my ocs and watched others fade in and out, watched my style loop back on itself and go all over the place, passed by pages of writing about crushes and album releases and gender discoveries and my grandparents dying, all surrounded by little drawings of the characters i love. including kuwabara in a maid dress right next to my dead grandma grief rambling that one time (no i'm not kidding. my grandma died in like late 2020 and the page where i poured my heart out after finding out she was gone just trying to process everything had one with catboy maid dress kuwabara directly opposite it, who i'd drawn like the evening before she died in her sleep. he killed my grandma from like 100 miles away he was that powerful. that wasn't even the last time i drew him like that and i don't even care about catboys or maid dresses much. i think it was just a bigger meme and he was the guy i most associated with cats. i put that man in a situation and he fucking got her because the book couldn't contain him. some victor frankenstein shit. anyway)
i took about 150 pictures, most with multiple sketches. i decided not to add any more though bc 1) i posted some of them on old accounts but i don't remember which ones, and tbh i value my anonymity a little too much 2) All Of The Pictures Turned Out Bad in ways i don't feel like getting into but just trust me it's like 6 layers of fucked up illegible image bullshit 3) i found it hard to narrow it down to things i felt were indicative of the development or interesting or anything like that. idk. i figured it was an interesting exercise for me and it probably wouldn't really mean anything to anyone else. and that's ok :) it was nice anyway. i mostly mention it to be like Oh My God i've drawn these guys a lot and i STILL don't know what i'm doing... :| it's fun
however i did transcribe the notes i left:
7/9/19: yo it's been less than a week & i'm on ep. 80 wtf i love this show
8/14/20: 1/2way thru my 3rd watch (first dub, first [with older sibling]) & honestly still love it & kuwabara being the first one i drew makes me happy
7/28/21: i'm watching it w/ [younger sibling] now! 4th(ish) watch, 2nd time through the dub, which is so much better than the sub really elevates the text. we're at the semifinals of the DT, which means this is technically my 5th time through yyh up until that point but eh semantics anyway i still love & obsess over yyh! <3
1/14/24 (present day): hey, i'm rewatching yyh for the.. idk 5th or 6th time. still love it & never stopped. now i'm writing fic & drawing & posting about it. i have friends i talk to about it. [both siblings] have seen it. so much has changed, and so little, but it made me sad seeing how much i insulted my own art. i love you 2019 me. god knows you needed it
[+ this drawing]:
anyway. forever fornever. if you even care
#that's all. just kind of a personal post i thought was neat. skrunklore#skrunkart#yyh#yu yu hakusho#you can really feel the 14 y/o in a lot of the little notes and stuff but that too is part of the growth and change im trying to celebrate.#ripping my fingernails off about it but it needs to be done#also the hearts are because they love each other. and also me in like a cheering you on kinda way#ok more lore but around jr year i started feeling like my art was getting worse or at least stagnating and i kind of wished i could go back#to the era where a lot of that art is from bc there were little things i was better at and also bc i was much more prolific and adventurous#and while i'm sympathetic to it looking back after another couple of years it's like nah. no i was still growing i was just too close to se#like i'll be like oughh i haven't grown at all in years >:(( and then i'll look at the art i made over the course of 2023 and go oh nvm lol#some of it was more 'getting back into the swing of things' + traditional and tech issues being resolved but there was also growth#there is also stuff to be proud of and there always is and there always will be. that goes for you too reader#no matter what your art does or does not look like. i guess that's part of why im posting this too#part of what got me into visual art was seeing how people's art changed (sketchbook tours). it's cool and seeing that learning process so#well preserved and so easily analyzed kinda activated something in my brain. i think it got me past a lot of the 'im just not talented'#stuff a lotta ppl have that keeps them from drawing or sharing it or whatever. anyway art's cool i love art. gonna go draw now probably :D#ALSO really funny watching the way i drew myself change. all in ways that make sense but still funny to me. long hair glasses girl you'd#probably keel over if you saw what we look like now. hell yeah
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anyway dc x dp is my new fixation hell and i've had so many ideas for aus but one that's really sticking with me is a classic "danny has to run away to gotham because his home is no longer safe" au where danny is explicitly looking for other ghosts or at the very least is pulled to gotham because there are so many of them there.
he flies around for a while and finds this manor and he can sense so many nice ghosts! so he just. goes there! and stays! and this can be human danny showing up at their door injured or it can be ghost danny just flying in but regardless, the waynes would never turn him away. bruce would get suspicious absolutely, but he's seen enough traumatized abused kids to know the signs. thomas and martha? they think this new ghost kid is adorable!!
there could be angst sure but idk i love the idea of danny getting hurt by his parents or the giw and being so wary of more humans, and this place full of friendly ghosts would be so enticing. ghosts that don't try to immediately wreck his shit? ghosts that get territorial but are also extremely welcoming and have a habit of letting new kids into their haunt? the batfam who've dealt with the paranormal before and wouldn't give a shit? that's a normal tuesday for them babes. like please, danny just found heaven and it's in gotham.
despite all the "batfam adopts danny" aus i've seen, i rarely see people mention the ghosts of dead family members who would absolutely still be there and would definitely want to help danny :(
#anyway unrelated but as much as i love the concept of the batpham i do hate how all of it is soo ooc for the bats#like bruce may think danny is a meta at first but he wouldn't discount ghosts or Not believe him#and cmon the whole 'this bat doesn't even believe in ghosts' like babes santa clause is real in the dcu#ghosts is normal actually#and usually it doesnt bother me that much like i get that most people arent here for the bats#but i do really hate seeing hurt danny aus where the bats are just so... callous and uncaring about danny#like i get that its for the angst but like. the blorbos would Not say that ajkdhg#like they are The Protectors of Gotham and you seriously think theyd ever act uncaring or rude to an injured kid?#i feel like people forget that that batkids fighting each other has everything to do with family sibling issues#and specifically not wanting said siblings to be their siblings#and not like. them just being assholes to random strangers#like i get them maybe being rude if its an adoption au or secretly related au but even then#danny is also very nice and likeable and he's not gonna fight for their roles or try to insert himself in their dynamics#he's like the best random kid bruce Could pick up#anyway very unrelated to the post im just feeling some kind of way :(#i love the bats and i wish the fandom cared about them more :(#ANYWAY i love this little idea im specifically thinking alfred would be the first to figure it out#he just does man. he just Knows that someone else has been added to the family#i think itd be fucking hilarious if a new random tombstone got added to the family grave#bruce visits and he's mourning his parents and then he just sees daniel fenton and he's like who the fuck#'do i have amnesia?? concussion?? dementia????? who the fuck is this ancestor???????'#danny is eating alfred's cookies in the background and sweat laughing#danny: do i tell him or nah?#alfred: if you don't you'll get to see master bruce's detective skills in action 👨🏼🦳#.txt
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