This is why we can't have nice things.
for some godforsaken reason i keep having intense feelings about izzy “only human in a muppet movie” hands, the joke has officially infected my brain and morphed into being kind of sad for that incredible mess of a man.
as such: everybody gets to suffer with me.
if you think about the show from izzy’s perspective, he went to bed in a gritty pirate drama where nobody gets to be happy for long and if you gut-stab a motherfucker, they have the common decency to fucking die already. he had both feet firmly on the ground in this world: he understood his place in it. he knew the goddamned rules!
and then one day he wakes up and blackbeard says “say, how about you go fetch me a fancyman” and once he finds stede, somehow this incompetent little weirdo beat him with the power of friendship, chutzpah, and a well-chucked coconut.
and then blackbeard lets stede get away with it—not just get away with it, but he celebrated izzy’s deeply embarrassing loss to a bunch of greenhorns, and he’s allowing the source of izzy’s confusion and humiliation to parade around calling him ed.
(i feel like that matters a lot to izzy—it’s pretty clear in his mind, using edward is a privilege he takes seriously and something that’s Special and Just For Him. and now stede is all “ed this, ed that, ohhhh ed let’s have tea and cakes and wacky hijinks and be all tender and adorable and emotionally available to each other in a healthy, open way” and ed doesn’t just let it happen. he likes it!)
lucius gets the better of him (using information only ivan or fang could have told him! O U C H), nobody wants him around now that they can have muppet adventures, and then it all culminates in blackbeard-now-ed going back on his plan to pull a single white female but make it none of those things actually and the duel.
ohhhh, the duel. where the final law of gravity izzy understands just... breaks. everything about his life is so very sad and it’s his own fault, but man. i can’t help it, i feel bad for the little freak.
he woke up in a different genre and whenever he tries to be like “okay, but yesterday i could have sworn linear time had meaning? and sepsis actually existed? is anybody else seeing this shit?????” everybody around him says “but izzy, we’ve ALWAYS BEEN MUPPETS.”
the choking/Toe Moment in the finale, beyond being disturbing as all hell/a kinkmeme fill on parade, carry a new resonance with that framing. he’s crying in happiness over getting to do the Weird Vore, sure, but this is a realignment. his world finally makes sense again!
(also he’s so in love with blackbeard he can’t do anything other than drown in it, but that’s another post too.)
anyway, all that to say: stede crashing into his life was basically a mindfuck so intense it was full-on eldritch horror times for izzy and i just think that’s neat!!!! also so, so deeply sad.
He's just a fucked up little guy.
Sometimes you just gotta listen to MAG-Epiphany to feel something
Me: “Jon Bernthal has no hold over me!”
Jon Bernthal smiles.
this gotta be the saddest thing i’ve ever seen in a women’s olympic figure skating event...SHE JUST WON GOLD
some days are like that
Ann Walker to Anne Lister: “Come Back”
Walked to the tiny coffee shop in a sorta log cabin where I’m slowly becoming a regular while I was on break just now, and got recognized immediately by the sweet teenage barista who I met the first time I came in when she was having a really bad day - I had ended up just talking to her for a while, letting her catch her breath after a swath of shitty customers ended with her espresso machine half breaking; told her I’d wait, etc, and asked how she was, gave her a big tip at the end and told her good luck on her exams she was worrying about. and today she just lit up when she saw me and was like “it’s you!! you made my day weeks ago!!!” and even remembered my order. I wanted to cry 😭 it really is about the lil connections, man
They're married, your honor-
oh, wren 🥺 they’d understand the bad days so well. the days you have to force down hallucinogens and alcohol til your mind’s high as a kite. you used to have morals, used to study and worry about your status. now there’s days-old semen who knows where all over your body, in tattered clothes you stole from the shop straight out the front door. you don’t even bother hiding the slave and whore tattoos on you anymore; you know you’re going to end up back in the brothel or the farm at some point, and you’re going to escape, and it literally saves you money to keep them on you. saves you pain and humiliation, too, but you don’t think about that.
wren doesn’t judge. just keeps inviting you to cars games and setting farms on fire by pure default after some point. you’re all but part of the cottage friend group at this point. wren can deal with the bad stuff, but they don’t know how to deal with how you start getting better. start arming yourself with pepper spray and taking those shit ass tattoos off and stop with the whole slutty outfits and instead wear a whole festival of bad choices. one time you walk in wearing a monster onesie and wren steals it outright, no game needed, just grabby hands. you start showing up to school again. you got really good at fighting, so you keep hands off you, and when you can’t, you show up with tear tracks to sleep the pain off at the cottage, sleeping on wren’s lap.
it’s almost inevitable that you’d want to leave. less obvious that you’d storm over to wren’s, eyes wild and grin wide, because you just pulled off the heist of the century - rolling in so much fucking cash, probably ripped off bailey, briar, quinn, remy, fucking harper - anyone and everyone who you hated, you stole from, thanks to a giant heist pulled off by you, landry, and mikey. wren can come with you. wren should come with you. you love them. but you won’t stay, you can’t, not another second.
wren would weigh the pro and cons, as savvy and smart as you.
it’s not a question of how much they love you, you’re well aware they do, even if they have trouble with emotions. it’s not even about the fact that both of you know if they turn you down, they’ll never see you again. it’s just a matter of which decision causes wren to lose more, overall, and if it’s worth the risk.
the pitfall of loving wren is being willing to lose to the winning side.
Blue’s story is so incredibly sad and heartbreaking. She’s such smart and social animal that hunts in packs. And now she has lost all of her sisters with whom she’s grown up and lived with. She has to live life without any of her sisters as the last of her species. And throughout it all she gets trapped under trucks, abducted, tranquilized, attacked by other dinosaurs and all that without any of her sisters there. In this essay I will--
ok so imagine emperor!kasa, who worships the goddess of victory, [reader]
you've given him everything he's ever wanted- he's become the greatest emperor, conquering across continents
he's built a temple in his palace, and he worships her more than anyone else
and, he's fallen in love- with the one who's given him everything he's asked for, the one who's supported him through his journeys, the one whose voice reassures him the most.
but a god can never love a mortal. and the goddess of victory is in love with the god of spring, nito nazuna
oh, you'd give him anything he wanted. but you can't give him you, or your love. because that belongs to someone else already
moths and muppets: aka, consider the humble metaphor.
i’ve been thinking a lot about the true power of a good metaphor, thanks to that damned silk moth, and it made me start chewing on my very favorite metaphor of all: the grand unifying call to muppet theory.
i truly love the stuff we’ve all come up with as a fandom in this vein, especially the meta about how everybody comes from their own canon. i’m going to talk more about why that’s so perfect after i knock out the practical and thus easier to line up and argue half of this and get down to my favorite part: full tilt feels.
hell, i’ve had my own fun joking about izzy being confused sepsis and linear time don’t exist anymore and i will continue to have said fun, as fun is a fucking vital element of fandom engagement too, but here's the thing: those are metaphors and jokes, not practical realities. izzy himself seems unaware of any difference in either one of those things.
to break it down by stating the obvious: metaphors aren’t the literal thing happening. they can’t be, by their very definition. they function on Vibes alone and pull themes into the mix too when they’re feeling flirty, or it sort of breaks into less-coherent pieces the more you find the ways in which it does not function literally and perfectly.
the sunrise is a painter, spreading fire across the sky: poke that metaphor with a stick, watch it crumble as logic fails to apply.
by that token there are no prior or different canons, in terms of the characters genuinely changing genres or switching worlds. they only actually exist in this canon, because... well, this is the only canon this version of these characters literally have ever existed in. we can have fun theorizing about backstories and the relationships in existence until the day izzy and co stumbled over the revenge and crashed through our metaphor wall until the cows come home, and i myself will be there with bells on. but for practical terms, the show remains the only show that exists outside the realm of metaphor.
they show us this general coherence, even in the text itself: fang and ed and ivan and izzy aren’t actually transformed by suddenly entering a muppet movie. and more to the point for now, in terms of practical skills and general expectations of the laws of physics, as far as we know they can all do what they could do before we started following their lives. no less, no more.
ivan still has advice about and dibs on gold teeth while stripping corpses, fang steers the ship and kicks ass and has great cheekbones. it’s just now, the context in which they are being received (and isn’t received a great way to say consumed? come on in, received says. we’ll have cake) is entirely different.
the duel is a case study in how this works: we know ed has a side full of old wounds from being stabbed in exactly the way stede survived being stabbed. they made sure to show us that surviving this is not at all unprecedented in ed’s pre-stede world, and that ed just shook off his latest light case of stabbing earlier in the episode.
so textually, izzy is baffled he lost a sword fight by unconventional means (as well as stunned by the subtextual introduction to the idea of topping from the bottom/bottoming from the top? their metaphor dick measuring/fucking will never stop amazing me) and that it was stede he lost to, not worse at dueling or actually bothered or even confused by a sudden lack of blood poisoning. and he’s not shocked ed rowed into the middle of the ocean at the narratively perfect time in the finale; he never once questions or seems disturbed by the outsized ways our rules of reality don’t matter here.
he bitches hilariously to jackie that stede sucks and likes ed’s hair too much and that he really could have beaten him if it wasn’t for those meddling kids, mark his words, but he never says: the rules of my basic reality were quite literally different yesterday. i am concerned i have tripped and fallen and now time doesn’t work.
instead, over and over again he says through his words and the way he responds to being taken off-guard: people keep acting in ways i don’t anticipate and i reeeeeally don't like it. additionally, i refuse even once to just to roll with it and see where that goes. his constant i don’t know what the fuck is GOING ON AROUND HERE ANYMORE response to the events of canon is primarily an emotional one.
(there’s a story beat here where izzy is essentially experiencing metaphor culture shock and he can’t or won’t metaphor codeswitch his way out of it that i find very fun and cool; we could all be izzy, in the real world, simply by being shoved into a cultural context we are unfamiliar with and immediately made deeply uncomfortable by.)
for example: he’s very bothered by dicks (and open expressing of emotion other than ‘fuck this and also maybe i will kill you’ flavored emotions) and what people are now doing with them, right in front of his salad.
in a tangent about the realities of sailing that i swear will matter here if you stick with me through it, because it relates to my argument: even his choice to make lucius scrape barnacles at sea, the best example of izzy wanting a specific ship chore performed (other than his demand to stede about munitions so they can fight the spanish) is more about humiliation than real world sailing requirements. in the real world, unless you plan to have somebody throw on diving gear to do it, ships are usually docked before this task is undertaken.
so izzy’s going about having lucius do this chore in a way that was not going to accomplish much. that is: if what he actually wanted was significantly fewer barnacles, for practical ship reasons. if what he wanted was to prove his power and authority and fuck with lucius in ways he can technically justify in-world, then what he did makes perfect sense.
and to be very clear: in the real world, izzy asking lucius to scrape barnacles while at sea (and without some sort of vague protection for his hands, especially given the effect of the waves on steadiness!) at all would require careening the ship, and doing so in a way that would have put all their lives in active danger. there’s even a period-typical (ish) name for the technique needed when attempting to do this at sea: the parliamentary heel. it was famously dangerous, and only to be done in red alert emergency situations where a dry dock or a beach couldn’t be reached in time.
and here’s the thing— i don’t think the show is taking that realistic approach, or that we are meant to take away izzy could have gotten them all killed, not even a little bit.
and i’m certainly not arguing he’s incompetent, either. ed wouldn’t have brought him on in the first place if izzy was actively bad at the 101s of How To Be a Cranky Lil Boat Guy, and i doubt even ed’s fondness or his position as first mate would have saved him for years from a quick shove over the side if he was actively detrimental to the pirating process in any way but being the middle manager we all fucking hate and refuse to do our absolute best for unless we have to, because our shit is on the line.
it’s just that apparently, in ofmd’s world of candied melon silk moths where lucius is more peeved than genuinely worried for his hands, either a bunch of barnacles exist above the ship’s waterline for... Reasons, or the waterline randomly changes without a significant change in weight by jettisoning cargo. (and it would have to change a greatly unrealistic lot for this to happen, a difference not remotely explained by four people being off the ship.)
so don’t ask how any of this works real rules of ship gravity-wise or it stops working, ofmd says. izzy is very annoyed lucius won’t quit doing masculinity wrong, and he’s being petty about it and targeting him for a non-essential job he won’t be particularly good at that could be done later in a more sensible setting. that’s the beat the story is most interested in, so it just does not care if barnacles and their removal don’t work like that in our real world.
ofmd plays fast and loose with the rules of everything from time to scurvy to distance between places and what rowboats and the arms attached to the human rowing said boat are capable of. there is a need to accept that the rules of our own reality are just guidelines on this show, or a viewer will end up deeply frustrated when none of it quite lines up as it should. ofmd’s metric is ‘what’s coolest and/or best for the story’, and they’re really not concerned if anybody doesn’t want to fuck with that need to suspend disbelief; they demand you go with them or perish. literally none of this works in a canon concerned with applying the rules of reality stringently.
i point all this out because there’s an urge floating around to fill in a lot izzy never displays to us, insist he is the only one working and/or keeping the ship afloat, we just don’t see any of it now because they changed canons: but in that case, it comes back to why aren’t fang and ed and ivan stripped of skills or traits in the same way? and if it’s just izzy, why the uneven staggering? he’s still a skilled fighter and a good pirate.
we just know despite those facts, fang and ivan didn’t like or respect him much pre-canon, given the stories about the time he was left in charge and the utter lack of fear that he’ll be pissed off at them. ed’s still scary to them, and fang still snaps to at even the idea he’s back aboard; as far as i can tell, unless we argue that izzy’s skills and relationships are different now but he simultaneously still knows his shit when it comes to battle and swordplay (pun intended) we should conclude skills are still at the same baseline for everybody. otherwise the show made some weird and specific choices to suddenly make izzy unevenly and unfairly disadvantaged in ways that aren’t about his emotional hangups, and arguing that carries a good handful of equally weird and troubling implications.
which brings me to the emotional kicker on the logic end, because if izzy’s right to act like such an asshole, and we just can’t see the necessity anymore by the virtue of canon change— or in some ways if he was ever right and doing so was 100% ever actually necessary— then by that same logic, ed was right to demand fang kill his dog. they were in a different canon! a canon where dogs needed to be killed! even if we could just LET OTHER PEOPLE GIVE THEM A NICE HOME, E D. we can’t change our rules on this kind of thing by character, if we’re calling it logic and not metaphor, and we all seem to agree there isn’t any world where that was called for.
ed gets fang a new dog endgame or i BURN DOWN THE HBO OFFICES. FUCKING... RENEW IT!!! anyway.
everybody’s emotional literacy and ability to be open is absolutely changing, and the reception they are given by stede and the crew of the revenge clearly isn’t what they’re used to, but in terms of ‘can they do the literal practical stuff they used to do and are the laws of gravity in-world the same’, they’ve all still got it.
to poke holes in my own favorite framework more, chauncey and nigel (and even mary!) are from stede’s canon, and should thus be muppets, right? the metaphor breaks down again there, as metaphors themselves are wont to do when you stretch them too far. none of them quite work within the literal muppet read. then there’s the king: is he from ed’s canon or stede’s? both? everyone’s???? what would that even look like or mean? he seems pretty muppet-y in vibes while remaining anti-muppet in allegiance/narrative positioning, but that’s a stretch once more and only works for him. and how about spanish jackie and geraldo? they’re from izzy and ed’s world and olu and jim’s. so: muppet or not? once you try to make a metaphor a literal plot detail and make it fit everything, it falls apart faster and faster.
(not to mention: geraldo is from jim’s world twice over, given what we find out from spanish jackie. he was there the day their family died, but he’s also part of the current action in a way that bears almost no resemblance to jim’s Ported In energy.)
which is the perfect lead-in to getting away from strict textual analysis and into why i love a metaphor in general, but these sort of metaphors in specific: the quiet part loud is that none of these characters are muppets.
because this isn’t a muppet movie, in anything but structure/metaphor/vibes: these are humans. (or seagulls, i suppose, but i will tip my cap in respect to karl and olivia both and then set them aside, for the purposes of this argument.)
this means they’re all played by actual human actors, but more than that, the characters themselves are gloriously human. even when they act cartoonishly, and the rules of our reality don’t apply to them— maybe especially then.
the writers have twin wells of seemingly endless empathy and accountability sitting side by side in a meadow of knowing their shit on the weird little quirks of being a human. these are not literal muppets, they are fictional humans.
complicated, wonderful humans. capable of kindness; capable of shocking new depths of dumbfuckery.
they make bad choices, they fail to communicate, and then they whip around and exhibit good sense and use their words to express the shit other people can’t know unless told. they do this because that’s what we all do, as we cart around our own pasts and pain and bring our thoroughly un-blank slate into each interaction we have on earth.
in my real life, i’m sort of obsessed with the idea that no two people can ever read the same exact book even when it is the same exact book, and with asking people the question “when you say ( fill in the word/phrase ), what does it mean to you?” when i start to feel like maybe the issue is not primarily in the meat of any given disagreement i’m having, but instead in the packaging.
from experience: people do not like being asked that question. they hear me say that, and what they process is ‘this motherfucker didn’t listen! and i was VERY clear’ and then i ask it again because they understandably don’t feel like clarifying word choice in the heat of the moment, as they 100% know what they meant, causing even more frustration.
(i have been told more than once i am very annoying to attempt an argument with, because i keep asking that question anyway. sorry about that, people in my life!)
the problem here is when i say that, i exemplify the thing i’m talking about: i come in with the baseline assumption that we all use the same words a little differently, and that’s not always a truth universally acknowledged no matter how real and obvious it seems to me. that’s before you get to the arena of legit mishearing someone, or somebody having a slip of the tongue or not knowing what something means and just using the wrong word. i’m talking about the fact that when i say anything, i bring all my own context and knowledge and previous conversations to bear, and same goes for the people i speak to.
i say beautiful, you might see a flower or that fiery sunset from the intro or, i don’t know, taika’s eyes/arms/belly: i might see something out of left field, like the inner mechanisms of a washing machine. so already, with the same basic understanding of what beauty generally means, we are starting from very different places and are going to have to work to bridge that gap between us.
i said all that to say: this is why i love the idea that every character is from their own genre, because what a fuckin’ metaphor that is all on its own.
we are all from our own canons, metaphorically, while from the same one literally. we star in our own movies, where we are the main character, and in the story we are telling ourselves other people know that, and react to us and our choices accordingly.
that’s not a value judgement, because we can’t baseline exist any other way: you weren’t born in my body, i didn’t live your pain or experience your joy. we are who we are, and we can’t go back and change any of it or gain the ability to read minds. if i want to see you as a whole person or you do the same for me, we are both going to have to pause our own movie for a second and attempt to watch the other’s without applying the rules that worked for us to a different canon, where things work differently and somebody else is the main character.
we exist in the same world: we exist in very, very different worlds. we’re the same; we couldn’t be more different. these are correct, all at the same time, and in the exact same way they’re all not quite right.
the beauty of a metaphor is that it can access an emotional truth, not a literal one. they’re for identifying something so deeply held it’s hard to entirely express in plain terms, and making it as beautiful as the gears turning inside every machine, keeping them running in ways unseen from the outside and unknown to the casual observer until they tear open the casing and see what makes this old thing tick. and at their very, very best, they’re not about construction or elegance; they’re about finding a core truth.
because of that metaphors suck with linear time and gravity and coherent real world logic— and that’s fine! they’re not actually about any of that. drill down past form to function and metaphors are about finding the best way to ask: you seeing this shit, too? that way you know you’re on the road to finding your people when somebody else pipes up ohhhh baby, AM I.
that’s communication; that’s solidarity. that’s fucking love.
moths and muppets, clouds that look like dicks and dicks that look like honesty, silk hearts and a hearth at the heart of a liminal space ship, oranges and earrings— it’s no wonder ofmd is so goddamned fond of metaphors. everything a metaphor does best, ofmd is really fucking good at too.
Sea, Land, Sky (Hydro, Geo, Anemo)
When she-he-it awakes, it is to blinding light, gentle light. The elements rush about around them and they laugh and smile.
This is their home. Their realm. The Light Realm. The Seven Sovereigns watched over them and took care of them as they slowly became stronger and gods in each of their own rights. Elements coalescing into form as centuries go by.
Then the separation comes.
The time when the Sovereigns are defeated and replaced by the Primordial One and their shades. When the Realms are further divided to allow for a new creature to come forth.
They don't hold a grudge. Not really. Maybe those who served the Dragon of Waters hold that grudge, banished to the darkest depth of the waters. But they are an individual. Surprisingly unconnected to the minds of the others of their species.
They blame it on the memories that lurked beneath the surface of their mind. Of a girl named after the nautical waters, born a child of the light, to become a warrior of light.
One day, they emerge onto the surface waters of the Human Realm, daring to venture out at long last from the Light Realm. And they gain a name. They are quick to find a place to establish their home. Their place to be.
The humans call it the Sea of Clouds, the waters of Guyun. In the middle, they had found an island, a place to call home, a place to reminisce, with how it was a patch of paradise in the middle of nowhere.
And the humans soon give them a name.
Osial, Overlord of the Vortex. For the storms and turbulent waters that surrounds their patch of paradise.
They have a different name, buried under memories, with a Heart missing the other two thirds, having long since given them away.
Kairi, The Sea, The Nautical Mile.
It is the last she remembers before Celestia breaks her mind and she is sealed, the sight of regretful gold that she knows is supposed to be sea green the last she sees.
When he-it awakens, it is to earth. It is to elemental energies of earth, feeding its form. It is in the depths of a mountain, having hatched and awakened to a world that is not ready for a dragon roaming again.
It is, however, an age of gods. An age where it is taught to become a god by a gentle Lady of Time, before she and her kind were chased away and their throne ripped from them by the invaders that are Celestia.
It is an age where it is a god who emerges from the place it stays and forms a contract with the humans who look at its form in awe and beg for its help against the creatures of the depths that plagued them.
It is an age where he still learns how to be a god to humans, despite having once lived as a human himself. He somehow needs the kind Goddess of Dust to guide his hand.
He isn't a ruler. He never is. A warrior who straddles the border of Light and Dark. He is Dragon-kin. He is human. He who is named after the shores that oceans border. And part of him still remembers that he is a protector.
As the Celestial invaders wrest the elemental energies of Teyvat and siphon them into little pieces that control its power, its output, and casts it out into the world for the ones called gods to fight for, it is the war that makes him remember, as he is crowned the Prime Adepti, the Lord of Geo.
Morax, God of Contracts, Warrior God, God of Commerce.
The one who made Liyue what it is in its current era, the world's memories of the ones that came before slowly faded into myth.
Riku, the Land, the Shoreline that Dawn Arises.
Tears in his eyes as he seals the broken mind of the Sea, in the shape of a hydra, that was a third of his Heart.
He-it awakens, to the gentle lullaby of a mother. It is a small, little wisp of the elements, born to bring the seed of wind wherever it goes.
"That will not be your purpose, little Barbatos," Time says to it. "But you will learn, as you grow in this world."
Time who births a thousand winds, but it is the last she will ever bring forth. She who is its mother, who gives it a sad, knowing smile as she departs, leaving it with the cryptic message left behind.
It is Barbatos. A wind wisp who travels the frozen lands she had brought it into. The winds, biting and cold with cryo, and loneliness fills its heart.
There has to be more, it knows, more at its side. It was always part of a trio. A trio of hearts connected, a trio of tied destinies. A trio of warriors, of best friends. A trio of lovers.
But Barbatos is alone in this world, where the war of the gods is nearing its end.
It barges into a wall of Anemo, trapping the oh so large humans within it. It feels like its in a world where everything is gigantic, a world where up is down and down is up, as it navigates the vast structures within the God of Storm's home.
And it meets a Bard, who wishes for the stars and the sky and freedom.
Who becomes his first friend, the first one he lets into his Heart in this World where he is too far from the other thirds of his bond but he cannot help but connect with the Bard.
But Celestia is cruel, and it ends in tragedy.
There is no going back in time, no breaking the laws of the worlds for the sake of those he loves.
There is no Heart or Heartless or Nobody.
Death is death.
And he is crowned an unwilling God of Freedom, as he wears his first friend's form in memory of him.
'Liar,' His mind tells him.
But what can he do but hold his memory close?
He is Barbatos. God of Winds, God of Freedom, God of Rebellion.
He is Sora. The Vast Open Sky, the Empty Heart that Connects All.
They recognise each other, as the war ends.
They look at each other. Gold sees sky blue and azure sees sea green.
Both wonder, if the other remembers, as they tug gently at the bonds that hold them together.
The bond to their Sea is weak, frayed from Celestia's meddling, but still there.
Away from the other five, Geo and Anemo both swear to survive long enough to see Celestia fall. Long enough to undo what had been done to the last of their third.
(Venti cries at the atrocities he is forced to commit at Celestia's will, cries as he and Zhongli become one of the last of those who still remember enough of the Shades and the Primordial One
Zhongli holds his best friend close, knowing that every broken bond weighs heavy in Venti's Heart.)
And the night the 11th Harbinger frees Osial from their seal, they strike.
She feels as if her mind was deep underwater. Murky and dark and slow to react. Her memories are a fog as she sleeps under the painful chains of Erosion forced on her.
But something wakes her up. She can barely see in the depths of her mind, but she sees it, a familiar charm.
A reminder of their bonds. Floating in front of her after thousands of years. It floats past her, glowing lightly, and just barely within reach of her chained hands.
Enough for her to grasp it... and feel a tug back.
And the world erupts in Light, the sound of chains shattering behind her as she is pulled out of the prison of her mind.
Her eyes open, open to a real world, the pelting rain on her skin and the rumble of thunder and her own roar in the distance bizarrely enough. Hands gripping her own and she feels and sees her hair glow a ethereal blue before cascading down her shoulders gently.
She meets their eyes.
Anemo azure that she knows is supposed to be sky blue.
Geo gold that she knows is supposed to be sea green.
Her Sky. Her Land.
"Morning Kairi," Barbatos, Venti, Sora says. His smile full of the burden he carries but still ever so Sora.
"Welcome back, Kairi," Morax, Zhongli, Riku says. His smile far more gentle and just as regretful as she remembers, but he is still Riku under it all.
Free at last.
The bonds of their Heart stronger than ever before, never to be broken again.
Osial, Kairi, smiles.
[ do you ever have to write a reply to a thread, but you & your rp partner had plotted the muses’ development / connection so EXTENSIVELY to the point that what your muse is feeling for your partner’s muse is deeply rooted into their core and now you’re trying to write a thread of their FIRST MEETING while glaring down your muse bc YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE IN LOVE WITH THIS MUSE YET AT THIS POINT IN TIME. CAN YOU NOT BE SO SMITTEN ? bc yep that’s what i’m struggling with rn. ]
Subway Bosses Relationship HCs
🖤 Ingo 🖤
In public, he is very reserved - he’s got a reputation as one of the Subway Bosses, and he wants to keep his private life as far away from the public eye as he can. That being said, don’t expect PDA with him - the most you’ll get is a handshake, maybe a quick peck when you go your separate ways for work.
Behind closed doors however, this is where he makes up for the lack of affection shown outside. Because he’s away from people and in an area he considers his home, where he can unwind, he finally drops the professional facade and give you all the kisses and cuddles you could ask for.
His touch is so incredibly soft and gentle, it’s almost concerning, most notably when the relationship is still relatively fresh. He’s worried of pushing boundaries, so he’ll need a bit of coaxing. This will improve, but slowly as he tries bit by bit what’s fine and isn’t.
On that note, he is very good at picking up when something doesn’t sit right with you. If he or his actions are the cause, he’ll drop whatever he’s doing right then and there. He wants to know exactly what lines there are, and learn so he won’t cross those again.
If it’s an outside factor, however, he will either stick by you like glue as a form of support, or if able, will pull you away from whatever may be stressing you out - or just to get you out for air.
Give him forehead kisses, he will be putty that second. He’ll make a low grumble that might sound similar to a kitten purr, and if he’s laying with you, you’ll feel him sink and go limp completely. This man is so used to putting up a strong front that this gesture is so different, but so welcoming. Scratch his scalp and massage it, and you won’t be getting him off of you.
🤍 Emmet 🤍
Your Own Personal Cheerleader - not just one, but an entire squad in one very energetic, very passionate train conductor.
He has Zero Shame when it comes to displaying his affection towards you. Doesn’t matter if it’s in a crowded station, or amusement park, or in the middle of a Pokemon Musical show - you are not safe anywhere from a surprise hug from behind. If he gets the chance, he will take it.
Of course, if you mention anything about feeling uncomfortable about it, Emmet will absolutely take that into account and make a mental note to avoid doing that for your sake. He’s fine with settling it somewhere private, or a little more secluded, even if that means just going into a different corner of the station or what-not. He has a much easier time showing his love through action.
If you thought he was needy in public, he’s even worse in private. Well, worse, as in he’s like a cat - he will lay on top of you and will not give you the chance to move. Especially so if you’re a workaholic, as this is his way of keeping you still and possibly get you to nap with him - or he’s so drained from battling all day, or if he had a hectic workflow that he just wants to unwind, and if he can spend that time with you, then that would be ideal.
Very touch-starved, this man wants cuddles and he’d want them every hour of the week if he could. Either holding you, or you holding him on a cloudy day, he just wants some form of contact. Heck, even just touching shoulders as you sit together to watch or read something is perfectly enough.
Nose smooches are his favorite - or bunny kisses, touching his nose with yours and gently rubbing them is the sweetest thing, and he enjoys every second of it.
this is the worst day of my life all my mutuals are with me on team allay but we’re leaving mayzier behind...
edit: CALLI NO