#And I would want to say it at all because it feels crucial with the new problem I am having.

[essektheylyss]

My thing about Veth potentially venturing into polyamory is that I do think everyone involved would be perfectly fine with it and happy to help her experiment, and I think that no matter how they do it, it would not fix her. This isn't to say that she wouldn't get any benefit out of trying! It's just to say that it's not a solution to her actual problem, because I genuinely don't think the problem is that she's lacking any one thing that would make her life complete.

Fundamentally, I think Veth struggles with the idea that there will come a point at which she has to settle. Not in a bad way, just in the sense that she is one person with one life and she will have to live within those bounds. Because the thing is, I don't really think her issue ends at struggling to "have it all"; to an extent she does! She is a good parent, even if her kid is a little rebellious; her marriage is supportive (and has fun sex); she gets to go off to save the world with Yeza's blessing on occasion, when the world needs saving. She doesn't have all of these things all the time, but... that's not really a flaw, that's just a fact of life.

But she started out her adult life settling to an extent—even if she loved Yeza and loved being Luc's mom, she did the safe thing that was expected of her. The goblin attack and everything that transpired after shoved her out of that life, but in retrospect, to an extent it likely feels that that pushed her to find something more that she wouldn't have had otherwise. Being pushed to her limit under the worst conditions made her better, stronger, braver, and at the end of it she found that she could have both her original life and much of her new life—so why wouldn't she then wonder if further experiences of that ilk could do the same?

Crucially, she has not actually run up against a hard limit yet, and as such she hasn't had reason to believe that there is a point at which she has to stop and recognize that there isn't more for her to find. When she was drinking more heavily during missions, even when it caused the death of herself or others, there were no long-term consequences. And the thing is, I'm not saying that she should face that kind of major consequence, but she seems as though she is scared to accept that maybe she could be happy if she stopped before she does.

I'm also not suggesting that she should stop experimenting or trying new things—the Luxon knows I am not one to talk in that realm—but I do think she is searching for novelty not because that would make her happy, but because she doesn't believe that she has the capacity to know what would make her happy. She was unaware that polyamory was even an option, so think of what else she might not be aware of! She doesn't have perfect knowledge of the world, after all, so how can she trust that she's found what she really wants? So yeah, she could fuck someone else, and it might even be an enjoyable experience that she didn't know was missing! But that only prolongs the question of what else she might be missing.

I think that deep down, she's terrified that if she doesn't keep pushing until that external hard limit, she will end up with regrets later, and simultaneously she is resentful that her friends all seem to have reached a point where they are largely content with what they have, because she wants them to have everything. She wants herself to have everything. And she has not yet allowed herself to come to terms with the fact that only she can determine when the everything of what she already has is enough, and anything else is the cherry on top.

[ayebibs]

What would have made the Veilguard companions more compelling?

I keep wracking my brain trying to determine how the marketing of this game was so focused on the companions, their rich lives outside of the narrative, and the journeys that they go on when I think that they are objectively the worst written companions to date. Not to say that their appearances aren’t well designed or that they don’t have really fun and cute moments, but they are simply less three-dimensional than previous companions. Fundamentally, my biggest grievance with the Veilguard companions is that I just don’t find any of them nuanced or interesting. They are all good people, but they are not good or believable characters that fit this plot and interact with it in meaningful ways.

I have never been one of those people that ignore canon, but I have been perseverating on the missed potential of this highly anticipated game that we’ve waited ten years for. So, I wanted to criticize some of these characters and explore some changes that might’ve made for a more compelling group of characters had they been written differently, but (hopefully) respecting the vision of who the characters are at their core because I do think that the skeleton of something great is here.

Disclaimer because this is long and critical: There are a lot of spoilers below. I haven’t read all of the Dragon Age books and I could be missing things, but I also think that the game and the characters’ journeys should speak for themselves as we go through the story. I also get that these are just my opinions, I’m a STEM girlie by trade and a creative on the side! Not everything I suggest may be great or realistic for building a plot or realistic for writing the script of a videogame. I also don’t mind conversations about these characters! I think that would be fun, I just don’t want to be shat on for being very disappointed in this game when it’s been my favorite video game series for half my life and I went in very hyped and willing to excuse a lot!

Alright, if you’re still with me, buckle up!

First, before I outline the specific changes I would make to each character, I want to address that there are just flaws with the way BioWare decided to handle companions as a whole in this game. I want to mention them now because they impact nearly every character and I don’t become repetitive:

1. Most importantly, the approval system is pointless and probably could be left out of this game for all it means to the narrative. It is nearly impossible to wrack up disapproval for the companions and you increase approval and bond by just taking companions out and completing a quest. If the companions like nearly everything that Rook does, then it means that they don’t care enough about anything to have strong rigid opinions (which is good for a well-written character). If companions don’t have an opportunity for meaningful agreements or disagreements, it means that the writing is not what people expect of a Dragon Age game based on every single installment we’ve had so far. It is one of the few things that have stayed the same in all of the past games and one of the things that I think fans are really upset about and should have been nonnegotiable.

2. All of the factions (except for maybe the Grey Wardens) really just needed to be messier and more complicated. Not all of the factions were meant to be heroic throughout the series. As others have commented, the Lords of Fortune and the Antivan Crows are the most glaring examples of this. However, I think that the Mournwatch and Veiljumpers are not exempt from this either. The factions serve as crucial parts of our companion’s backstory and by sanitizing them, we are wiping key opportunities for character development. For example, it could be way more interesting to have a character who fundamentally disagrees with their faction, but doesn’t know how to escape it. Or, what about a character who loves their faction and makes us feel conflicted about them because of their willingness to explain away the faction’s history? I could write (another) essay on this, so I’ll leave this point here.

3. We simply needed to have more conversations with all of the companions. All we have are these short, uninteresting cutscenes to learn about the companions. The player should be able to go up to the companions and ask them about the history of their faction, who they trust and care about in their faction (and why), their past, and their opinions about new information (on other companions, side quests, and plot points). None of these even need a cutscene, just voice acting. It would also help players feel more connected to the companions.

4. There needed to be more visible personal and interpersonal conflict. The companions read like coworkers to me. They mostly like each other and, even if they do have disagreements, they are never explored in the narrative. They don’t seem to have any hugely conflicting viewpoints on any topic and, even if they do, they are benign. For example, what to pack for a camping trip or not wanting to talk about a particular topic (dragons vs. spirits) can be interesting in addition to more complex banter but the banter just feels inappropriate and irrelevant for the plot of this game. Overall, the companions rarely make a fit about anything. It feels like the writers didn’t want any character to appear problematic, but they made them flat because none of them seem to have a hill to die on except that they should save the world. This might have been fine in a game series that didn’t focus so heavily on companions and the way that ethics are shaped by personal experience, but this is not that imaginary game series.

5. The companion quests should have focused more on worldbuilding and getting to know the characters. I have little to say about this other than that the quests for Harding to try out her powers, training Assan with Davrin, shopping with Lucanis, and lighting candles with Emmrich, etc. were lazy, uncreative filler. I really cannot put it any other way. They should have all had quests that better explored their faction and, by extension, them. We barely learn anything in those quests and they are time wasters. Those are the scenes that should have been converted to a codex entry, not some of the important lore drops that we currently have in the codex.

6. Rook chooses one option of a binary for every companion towards the end of their personal quests. I’m okay with some of these, I think that it made sense for Bellara and Davrin to ask Rook what to do in their personal quests because it felt more natural. A friend asking a friend for their input. On the other hand, some of these are really inconsequential, semantic, and mindset related (Neve) and others are such personal choices that it feels inappropriate for Rook to be involved (Emmrich and Lucanis). In a lot of these cases, it would have made more sense to have dialogue options sprinkled throughout the game that influenced companions to make their ultimate choices. Giving Rook so much power in these decisions makes the companions feel one-dimensional because it strips them of agency that any believable character would want. Even if they wanted Rook to make these decisions, companions should have felt more strongly towards the options and either praised or disparaged Rook for their decision.

7. Finally, I found all of the romances very lackluster. I was never someone who considered Dragon Age games glorified dating sims (I actually really don’t like that take, even if it's all jokes), but I found myself missing the depth of relationships in previous games. All the relationships felt too new and shallow. Largely, I think this is due to points 3 and 4, but also due to a lack of reactivity with your companions. For example, companions barely acknowledge you getting them a gift or flirting. This could have also been helped by a few extra cutscenes with the companions.

That mostly covers the overarching issues that apply to all characters. Some of these things might come back in my individual discussions of the characters if it is particularly bad.

If you’re still with me, here are my thoughts on each companion and/or what I think would have made them more interesting:

Bellara

I came to like Bellara much more than I anticipated from the trailers and marketing. However, she is really emblematic of how the writers didn’t want problematic characters. There is nothing in the game that would cause people to accuse her of being problematic, but despite being an elf (a historically oppressed and enslaved group), she is so quick to apologize for the actions of ancient elves who oppressed her ancestors thousands of years ago which is ridiculous and solves nothing. It also really seems like the writers wanted her flaw or quirkiness to be some kind of neurodivergence and nerdiness and that alone doesn’t make a compelling character. I actually think it would be interesting if Bellara was, if not pro-Solas, pro-hearing him out because his intentions were in the interest of the elven people even though he made some shitty decisions. I think she would want to be interested in what Solas knew about the ancient elves and what their society looked like before the Veil. I think she’d want to know as much as she could about the technology. I think it would be interesting if she guiltily admitted to wondering what the world would look like if the Veil came down. How different would it really be to what they’re already experiencing? Could they not mitigate the problems? I think this would be an excellent point of tension between Bellara and Davrin (who is Dalish but might not understand her curiosity in the face of the blight) or Harding (whose people were so impacted by Solas and Mythal’s actions… more on Harding later).

Davrin

Davrin is actually my favorite companions in this game, but I still wanted more from him. I think it would be really interesting if, when the team is gathered around after Weisshaupt that Davrin really pushed back against the idea of sorting out their personal shit before progressing. He’s a grey warden who, in his estimation, just failed his one purpose. I think that this would cause a bit of tension between him and some other characters, like maybe Taash whose concerns are more personal than anyone else's at the time. He is serious and straightforward, so I don’t think it’d be out of character and it would make their friendship and training montage more satisfying later on if they had to move on from it. I would also expand on the fact that he was disappointed to not die when he killed one of the archdemons? It was touched on so briefly and he seems to emotionally resolve it in a few dialogue lines which I think is crazy, even considering that he wants to live to save the griffons and raise Assan. A “blow up” about how the team needs to put their personal affairs aside while struggling to keep his own personal affairs together would introduce a little more depth to his plot line and expand on one of the more interesting things about him that we barely got any time with.

Harding

Harding was one of the most boring characters to me in this game because she felt so flat and there were so many ways to make her more interesting. Her character isn’t helped by the Varric twist because the narrative requires that she doesn’t grieve except for one scene despite knowing Varric for at least a decade. Personally, I think that changing her reaction if/when she finds out what Solas and Mythal did to the Titans and her people would make her more well-rounded and believable. From that point on, Harding should be anti-Solas and you should lose approval with her every time you entertain the idea of trusting him. Maybe she could even express disappointment/frustration/sadness for an Inquisitor who believes Solas can be saved or speak of them more highly if they think that he is irredeemable. Also, we should’ve spent more time with her and the dwarven people. I think Veilguard was such a rushed and half-baked attempt at wrapping up that storyline. We learned so much about the dwarves in the last two games and we get to spend so little time with them.

Taash

Interestingly, I think Taash is one of the few companions with really obvious flaws. They are childish and impatient, but they’re poorly written and their flaws are never acknowledged or treated as flaws by the narrative. In my playthrough, their relationship with Harding might have been an interesting place to explore and address that childishness. It was also a missed opportunity for them to explore Qunari and Rivaini culture. As other people have commented, the binary choice between being Rivaini or Qunari is odd in tandem with Taash’s journey of self-discovery and identity. I think that choice shouldn’t exist and should be encouraged by dialogue options peppered throughout their larger quest. We were so close to exploring the rift that can form in families between first generation children and immigrant parents (and learning more about Rivain and the Qun by extension) when there is love but a fundamental difference in culture and lived experience. Instead, I feel like the narrative never gave us a chance to really hear Shathann out before her death, but I’ll give the writers a break because I think that they were going for tragedy and unresolved conflict and I don't know if I trust them to make that a conversation that fits the world and isn't anachronistic.

Emmrich

The thing that bothered me most about the Emmrich storyline was the final choice between Emmrich becoming a lich and bringing back Manfred. This is another choice that Rook should have influenced rather than choose outright. The number of times that you asked probing questions or commented on Emmrich’s desire to become a lich through more conversations about Emmrich’s fear of death and relationship with Manfred should have determined his final decision. Personally, it felt inappropriate for Rook to make that decision directly for him, no matter how much the game tried to justify it. I would have also liked to see his fear of death impact him more throughout his quest line and the narrative. The final quests are literally a suicide mission and he should have had more dialogue regarding it.

Neve

I’m going to admit that Neve was hardened in my playthrough and I haven’t explored her character in playthroughs where you save Dock Town, so this section might not be applicable to half of you. I didn’t understand a lot of Neve’s motivation behind her actions. I didn’t understand why she felt so passionately about her city or her jobs. Her drive felt hollow to me, making her personal quests feel generic. When I got to Neve’s quest where we gathered clues near the water in Dock Town, I was excited to finally learn anything about her, but it was devoid of any meaningful backstory. I would have written the quest to better explore Neve’s past, motivations, and personal relationships. The other big thing that stands out is that Neve is a noir detective and the VA has clearly gotten direction to sound like one, but her story is so devoid of mystery, intrigue, and many of themes that would make that more than aesthetic. And, like, isn’t her whole faction about freeing slaves? Why not make her personal quest more closely tied to that?

Lucanis

Lucanis’ personal quests are so tied to the dynamics of his faction, so I think a lot could have been solved by making the Crows more morally grey. I think Teia and Viago could have stayed the same, but we should have seen more negative interactions between him and the rest of the Crows. Outside of Illario, Catarina would have been an exceptional vessel to explore the problems within the Crows and a theme like generational trauma or exploitation. The party banter between him and Davrin criticizing each other's factions could have been an excellent space to talk about the negative aspects of the Crows and how Lucanis’ feels about them, either defend some misdeeds or express how he feels conflicted about his past contracts. In my game (when you save Treviso), Spite also felt more like a mildly important accessory in Lucanis’ plot than a significant problem. Few characters had anything significant to say about Spite and he caused few problems. I actually thought Spite was fun for most of the game, but he needed to be more problematic because he gave the impression that he was included more to build an aesthetic for Lucanis than a character-defining plot point. Finally, I think Rook deciding what to do with Illario was a poor decision. I would have written this as a decision Lucanis makes on his own based on how Rook encourages him to deal with Spite through a more fleshed out character arc.

This pretty much summarizes my thoughts on all of the companions. As you can tell, I am very Normal about this game.

I wanted to like these characters so much and they have an unbelievable amount of potential. They are all so fascinating in concept and all of them are poorly executed either due to the relationship building mechanics of the game, because of the writing and dialogue, or a mixture of both. That said, there are brief moments when I like them and I get glimpses of what they could’ve been.

I just hope the characters are better explored in future games (if we get one).

[famouscyclenerd]

Mor's reactions to Az and Elain is explained in his BC

this is my opinion btw, nothing's been confirmed.

I've seen both sides use her reactions to "prove" that their ship is endgame in whatever way. We don't have her pov in any of the scenes however.

So as of right now, we don't know why Sarah chooses to highlight Mor's reactions whenever there is an interaction between Elain and Az in her presence, but I have my theories, and ya'll already know it's not going in e/riels favor, SO BUCKLE UP MY DUDES WE'RE GOING FOR A RIDE!👹

I think it's important to note that Azriel and Mor's relationship has been slightly... turbulent throughout all of the decades they've known each other. Don't get me wrong, it hasn't been absolutely unstable, but there is a huge lack of communication on both sides that's been in dire need of resolvement in order for them to have a good and healthy friendship.

Although Sarah hasn't confirmed it, moriel was supposed to be endgame. PERIOD! I still can't believe there are moriel deniers. Reading ACOMAF, moriel was the plan and that's a !fact! (TRUST, I was there when MAF realeased and the couples were feysand, elucien, nessian and moriel) and it became evident in ACOWAR that she changed her mind on them for unknown reasons.

So what do we know about them and their feelings for each other? In MAF Feyre noticed Azriel reactions towards Mor. I honestly find that so fucking funny when "Beautiful, but near-unreadable." and "His skin was as cold as his face." is how Feyre first describes his face, yet she clocks his feelings for Mor almost immediately.

"It was almost enough to distract me from noticing Azriel as those shadows lightened, and his gaze slid over Mor's body (...) A wisp of shadow curled around Azriel's ear, and his eyes snapped to mine. I schooled my face into bland innocence."

"Mor patted Azriel on the shoulder (...) The lurking shadow vanished entirely as Azriel's head dipped a bit (...)"

This was the very first scene where Feyre observed Mor and Az together.

"Yes - Azriel, who kept a step away, whose shadows trailed him and seemed to fade in her presence."

I find this interesting since some of you can say: "GOTCHA! His shadows vanishes around Mor like they do with Elain and moriel was supposed to be endgame in MAF" but I don't think this is good for the e/riels at all, as Sarah kept this going even after she decided that they weren't going to be together. This basically established e/riel to be moriel 2.0 and it didn't work out the first time, so why would it work a second time?

I find it interesting when Feyre, Rhys, Cassian and Azriel leaves to go see Elain and Nesta for the first time - Azriel decided to leave behind his shadows.

"(...) No shadows trailed us, as if he'd left them in Velaris."

Why? Because he didn't want to unsettle the sisters as they were there to convince them to work with them.

"Then I shifted to the right, grateful those shadows were nowhere to be found (...)"

"But Azriel's attention was on my sister, a polite, bland smile on his face. Her shoulders loosened a bit. I wondered if Rhys's spymaster often got his information through stone-cold manners as much as stealth and shadows."

How sweet! First meetings :D

To speed things up a bit, we have Mor finally telling Feyre more about their relationship. How she's aware he wants her, but doesn't see himself good enough to be with her.

“He might have defied and proved those Illyrian pricks wrong at every turn, but it won’t matter if Rhys makes him Prince of Velaris—he’ll see himself as a bastard-born nobody, and not good enough for anyone. Especially me.”

This is very crucial and something I'll circle back to later!

Then we have the cauldron scene that seemed to be what would finally make a change in their so far static relationship.

"Faster than any of us could see, Jurian fired a hidden ash bolt through Azriel's chest. Mor screamed."

"Mor was shaking - trying hard not to, but shaking as she stared at the protruding end of that arrow, visible between the gap in Azriel's wings."

"Jurian's sword was already out - and he was looking at Mor as if he was going to kill her first. Azriel's blood-drained face twisted with rage as he noticed that stare."

"Azriel cried out in pain. She froze."

"Mor looked at Azriel and there was real fear there. Fear - and something else. She didn't stop moving until she kneeled beside him and pressed a hand to his wound. Azriel hissed - but covered her bloody fingers with his own."

I've said this before and I'll say it again. If you know SJM terminology, you know what the "something else" means. This was the mating bond snapping into place for Mor. We were all waiting for it to be adressed in ACOWAR, but clearly that never happened.

As of WAR and FAS, Azriel's feelings for Mor doesn't waver. He continues to stare after her with longing, hunger, sadness whatever - even with Elain in the room fyi. But Mor's feelings for him has been changed irrevocably - as Sarah decides to sink the moriel ship once and for all by telling us Mor is not romantically interested in men, something Az is not aware of, as far as we know. And she continues to sleep with men, which makes him confused and hurt. Their relationship remains the same as it always has been.

So with this out of the way, let's take a look at Mor's reactions to e/riel!

"Azriel's hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body. And without a word, he winnowed away. Mor watched the space where he'd been standing long after he was gone."

This is... an interesting reaction and something that Sarah obviously wants us to notice. So why is that?

"Az said nothing. No, he just moved toward her. Mor tensed beside me."

Ah, the lovely potato scene! As I was re-reading it, there really was nothing romantic about it whatsoever. Rhys explaining why, as this was more to highlight Azriel's ptsd than show any romantic indication between him and Elain.

However, Mor's reaction is certainly something to note on. She tenses as she watches them. And in here comes my reasoning as to why Az's POV is so important to her reactions. Because previously, we see Elain and Az together through other people's eyes, and it can come across as very sweet and innocent, ♫the start of something new♪ perhaps. But the BC really just threw any sliver of a chance for e/riel out the window, imho.

There was simply nothing sweet about Azriel's inner thoughts as he was interacting with her. His self worth is at an all time low around her, meaning it has most likely always been like that whenever they've been together.

He is so aware of his own flaws, his status, his looks etc and basically comparing himself to her. She is so flawless and good and he is this ugly monster.

"Az tried not to look at his scarred fingers as they took the gift."

"His shadows skittered back at the sound. They'd always been prone to vanish when she was around." ← as they do with Mor

"Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin."

"Wrong - it was so wrong."

"She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open that he knew she had no idea that he had done unspeakable things that sullied his hands far beyond his scars."

"Such terrible things that it was a sacrilege for his fingers to touch her skin, tainting her with his presence."

"He hadn't gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to." ← this is straight up diabolical💀

Although we have never gotten Az's POV when he's around Mor, I imagine it to be very similar in terms of how he views himself and them. And I think Mor understands this. When she looks at Elain and Az, she sees herself and him. And I think her heart breaks for him as she watched history repeat itself, likely knowing that there isn't much she can do but watch as he self destructs again and again.

As I mentioned, this makes me look at e/riels interactions differently when knowing how Az views himself around her. I believe this made every interaction between them, that could carry hints of potential romance, into something much darker than what it seemed like on the surface. And I think Mor sees this, as well as Rhys.

This kinda leads into a post I was planning on writing, but couldn't be bothered. But it was about Az and Rhys and how as of SF, the character that knows Az the best is Rhys. And we see Rhys shut down any e/riel interaction known to man. Feyre: "how handsome they could be together" and Rhys: "Azriel has been preoccupied with the same female for five hundred years" etc.

With the bonus chapter in mind, I have a headcanon that, like Feyre did to Lucien, Rhys used his daemati powers on Azriel and essentially read what we read, leading to him interrupting them as he (like many of us) did not view what was happening as something romantic. If you read on a surface-level, what Rhys did could appear mean, but to me, he did this because he cares for his brother and that particular kiss would not make Azriel feel better about himself. At all!

"What of Mor, Az?" Azriel ignored the question." ← He is not completely over her, even in SF.

If my headcanon is true (which we might never even find out) I just have to point out that Feyre found no ill will when it came to Lucien's regard for Elain, only concern, sorrow, longing etc. Compared with Rhys and Az, where good intentions was not on the table, but simply lust and self-hatred on Azriel's end at least.

I'm not sure why Sarah decided to toy around with e/riel except because Azriel was suddenly available after she decided to ditch moriel, but I do believe that they've turned into nothing but a red herring for gwynriel and elucien. And it worked, a little too well maybe.

See I could pull in my girl Gwyn and her scene with Azriel to compare and show the contrast of it, but I'm not going to..

"The young priestess smiled - and he thought it might have been directed at his curious shadows."

This is already... so different to what we've seen with the other two.

"He blocked out the bloody memory that flashed, so at odds with the Gwyn he saw before him now."

He thinks about her and how far she's come compared to when they first met.

"Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music."

"He blinked. It wasn't every day that people took him by surprise, but..."

This is just cute c:

"Azriel couldn't help his soft chuckle."

"(...) rubbing his hands against the cold, grateful for its bracing bite and the distraction of this impromptu lesson."

He is aware of his hands and not thinking about how "ugly" they are when she is around him. He is also happy about this surprising lesson, not at all interested in being alone to mope anymore.

"Azriel laughed."

"(...) something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch."

You already know. But Az was in a shitty mood right before this, and it did not take much of Gwyn to calm him down, leading him to feel slightly better about himself and even feeling like he could get some sleep after all.

Compared to both Mor and Elain, his shadows are present and interacting with her and she's paying attention to them as well. Which is a first. And let's not forget the ✨spark✨

Which of these three ladies is better for Azriel? Mor and Elain are basically the same for him, himself and his shadows reacts more or less the same around them. Or Gwyn, which read in a lot more positive note than the previous two?

I think Sarah knows at least🤷‍♀️

[rey-jake-therapist]

Excuse me ? "it's you who started it", are you twelve ? You're accusing me of things that other shippers have done, so tone down your voice please.

Yes it was me who posted this comment, I won't deny it. It was in this post, that commented on a post quoting an article that claimed that Galadriel was "done with Sauron" and that Celeborn was an extremely important character in the story of LOTR and that it was imperative that the show would introduce him now. YES I called certain Celeborn stans delusional not because they ship Galadriel and Celeborn lol but because they often make him a much more important than he is, and are also often vocal on how that now Galadriel will "step back", her life will turn around him. This is just not going to happen. And YES I called this take in particular delusional because

1) Galadriel is not done with Sauron, wether you ship it or not it will always remain a very important connection the show

2) Celeborn is a side character, he's not important. Is he important for Galadriel ? Of course he is, he's her husband, the father of her child. But in the overall story? No, he isn't, and no, it's not crucial that he shows up in the story now. But if he does, he does ! I won't stop watching the show because Celeborn appears.

3) and yes some Celeborn stans are often very annoying and agressive, you just proved it. That's why I said what I said in the screenshot. For the record, it came just a few days after certain Celeborn stans blamed Haladriel shippers for chasing Charlie Vickers away from Instagram, while they had nothing to with it, as it was proven. So yes, I was pissed, and I don't do it often but this day I generalized. It was wrong, but since you're just doing exactly the same thing to me by accusing me of things that other people did, I can't say i feel very guilty.

Idgaf about your ship, and i don't think I said anything remotely negative about it in this post, did I ? I called it 'boring', but I also said that most marriages are boring, as 'uneventful'. I find it boring as a subject to watch and analyse, okay ? Christ, I even called my own past relationship 'boring', and I loved most of it ! I don't think it's being anti shipping to say that I'm not obsessed with the daily routine of a married couple to the point of imagining their life together or write fanfic about it.

All that you accuse ME of saying (I say 'me', because I'm the one being personally attacked here. I don't represent the Haladriel fandom as a whole, mind you) : sorry bro, wrong target, because I never called any of C/G shipper 'delusional'. Some of those who use their ship to attack mine annoy me, yes, but I'm also well aware that it's not the majority of the shippers who do that (I know there are fellow shippers that claim that most C/G shippers are fake, but I. am. not. them.)

I also never called any shipper 'puritan incel' for wanting a wife and a husband to be reunited. Not only it will happen, but it HAS to happen. I'm not an idiot, I know how the story ends and it ends well for your ship and really not well for mine. I'm totally cool with it, I even love my ship for this reason, among others.

Also, you're a former Reylo

Ahhhhh again, wrong target bro, I'm not at all a former Reylo, never been a Reylo. I had a vague interest for it at some point, but it quickly passed. And I'll even confide you one thing : I'm always profundly annoyed when I see Haladriel being claimed as another Reylo, because these dynamics are for me extremely different. Sauron is not Kylo Ren, for which I'm very grateful because I can't stand the guy (sorry my Reylo friends, but it is what it is. Love on you though).

Don't start talking me about fandom etiquette when you're the one attacking me. The comments you screenshot were adressed in a post that didn't tag your ship or your beloved Celeborn, so you found it because you wanted it. People are allowed to express negative opinions on a fictional character, and you are allowed to block them if you don't like it. THIS is basic fandom etiquette. Every day I find the worst takes on characters I love, and yet you don't see me whining in the mentions of whoever posted them. Most of the time I just shrug it off and scroll down, because I'm a grown woman !

However, I don't support any of the behaviours you're accusing me of having. I'm not for attacking real people over their like of a ship or of a fictional character.

I'll leave you time to read this answer, then I'll indeed block you because I don't need this kind of nuisance. Go find somebody else to pile on, because you got the wrong person here, clearly.

Why is it so hard to understand that Sauron being the villain and downright evil is precisely what makes Saurondriel a fun and interesting ship to play with ?? I mean it's so amusing to see people clutching their pearls over the fact that many viewers (women mostly) find this dynamic attractive, as if the point of shipping was not often to have FUN playing dolls with fictional characters who if they existed in real life, would have no business being together. Unlike real life toxic relationships, the fictional ones are HARMLESS. Unless you can't dissociate fiction and reality and don't see that Galadriel is a fictional character, there's nothing harmful in shipping her with anyone else than her husband.

I'm not sorry to say I don't see why I should ship Galadriel with her currently dead husband, while Galadriel herself doesn't seem to give a shit about him at all (in the show). Seeing some people bemused that no more fans ship her with Celeborn as if a relationship being canon made it automatically fun to ship is a bit funny, to say the least.

I don't see any fun in imagining scenarios where they live their very normal marital life, raise their very normal kid and sometimes have dinners with their very normal family. Why don't more people ship Galadriel and Celeborn ? Because it's boring that's why. I see boring married people everyday in real life already, my own marital life was mostly boring as well (except when my ex decided it was "put you down for no reason" day.... I preferred the boring days), why the hell would I care for fictional boring married people ?

Don't get me wrong, It doesn't mean that I don't want Galadriel to have this life ! I want her to be happy, of course, but see what's great with Saurondriel is that I KNOW that it will never be a threat to Galadriel's life with Celeborn. I KNOW that he'll come back at some point, I KNOW that she'll have this peaceful marital life, and us shipping Galadriel and Sauron will never change that because it's already written.

[thedrotter]

Mili from gote to handa!!! these were originally simple doodles but i had to polish it because she's my favorite from the game

[crimeronan]

still thinking about hunter and raine as the good cop and comrade cop because it's just . it's so good. it's so good. obviously this is early in the canon before hunter knows raine is a rebel or has defected himself so it's like. hunter, who likes raine So So So Fucking Much, because raine is The Only Decent Person In The Castle, just increasingly desperately being like . [rubbing temples] [exhaling] [dragging raine to the side] [hissing] whispers. whispers i'm trying So Hard to get this guy to break. i am at a point where i almost literally would rather die than get you in trouble so could you PLEASE..... bpllease..... just...... for ONCE.......

[blackwaxidol]

I do not know what my problem is.

[3hks]

How to Write REALISTIC and SMOOTH Dialogue

In a story, dialogue is quite important, it helps the readers paint a picture of what's happening and the characters themselves. However, it can be difficult to avoid the unnaturalness and choppiness that comes with a lack of experience. But luckily, I have put together A LOT of advice on how you can get over that rockiness and improve!

*** KEEPING YOUR DIALOGUE REALISTIC, AND PACING ***

>> Keep your characters in character:

Dialogue is a remarkably quick way for readers to determine your character's personality. Thus, you want their speech patterns to remain fairly consistent so the audience won't get confused. If your character is more serious, then they will use less slang and perhaps a more impressive vocabulary. If your character is more relaxed, they will use more slang and compress the words. (such as "dunno," "kay," "y'know," etc.)

Basically, you want their tone to match their traits so the way that they talk is more realistic and personlized to themselves. If the way all your characters speak is the same, there's something wrong. A strong tip is to put yourself in your character's shoes and imagine how they would respond!

>> Take the situation into consideration:

This is another part of keeping your characters in, well, character. Different emotional situations will have a different effect on separate people, so make sure that you have an idea of how your character will act during stressful, irritating, and sad times.

If your character is normally cold, they will struggle if it comes to comforting other people because they have less experience in that field.

>> Don't take too long with their words:

Unlike when narrating something, most people talk just to get the idea across. They will be more specific and quicker with what they say. (This excludes any character who likes to talk a lot.) Unless it's on purpose, they won't dance around the topic. Think of when you casually chat with your friends; you're pretty unlikely to use certain words and/or phrases that might be common to use while narrating.

If you want to explain something complicated, instead of writing out a paragraph of just one person talking, use a question-and-answer prompt! This is where another character continuously asks related questions that get answered by another person, so you can indirectly reveal your explanation.

*** HOW TO WRITE A SMOOTHER CONVERSATION AND DIALOGUE TAGS***

>> Having a variety of dialogue tags:

This is a pretty basic thing to look out for if you're new to writing conversations. Using words like "said," every other sentence can easily make it feel choppy and robotic. Instead, use words like "murmured," "smirked," etc. to paint some emotion into their words. Additionally, vary the location of the dialogue tags! They don't all have to go after the statement, you can include something in the beginning or even the middle, too!

Examples:

Beginning - She tilted her head, "What are you talking about?"

Middle - "Oh," he blinked, "I actually never thought about that."

End - "Wait up!" She exclaimed loudly, waving her hands around.

>> Using no dialogue tags to create a smooth conversation:

Having too many tags can also overwhelm your reader--remember, sentence variety is a crucial part of writing--so you can always drop them if they're unneeded. This applies when your characters (two is the suggested amount) are talking back and forth in a pattern straightforward enough for the reader to understand who's talking without it having to be labeled.

Dropping dialogue tags in these moments can create a smoother atmosphere during the conversation because the reader only has to focus on the talking present.

*** USING SLANG, STUTTERS, FILLER WORDS, AND PAUSES ***

Human speech is often not perfect; when talking, we often make mistakes such as filler words, grammatically incorrect phrases, etc. Hence, for more natural-sounding dialogue, it's important to incorporate some of these.

>> Pauses and stutters:

When reading dialogue, we read it at a steady pace unless it's written otherwise. However, that steady pace can soon get too robotic and too smooth. Luckily, there are several ways to change this! You can use dialogue tags, (ex: she quickly spoke) commas, and ellipsis (...). These are often integrated when the character is hesitant, nervous, answering something, or when they need to admit something. The same idea applies to stutters--they're mainly used to demonstrate anxiousness, which can be found in varying situations.

>> Filler words and slang:

Filler words can really just be used where you see fit. They may be used in the situations I previously mentioned (because it shows someone stumbling over their words) but it's ultimately up to you!

Slang, just like everything else, should not be used too often, or it will seem forced and exaggerated. The point is to sound natural, and increasing amounts of repetitiveness can ruin it. It's also important to remember that in real life, our conversations move slower; when someone speaks, another person usually doesn't respond quite literally, right after. However, in writing, dialogue can actually often seem that way, which is why using tags and these imperfections of speech is pivotal for building a realistic conversation!

*** CONCLUSION ***

Lastly, a key point when writing dialogue is to ALWAYS read the conversations! Whether it be in your head or out loud, it can often help you catch anything that seems off! Additionally, like I mentioned at the very beginning, write dialogue from your character's perspective! Imagine yourself as them and how they/you would talk. Try to keep your dialogue tags, sentences, and word use varied to create a natural conversation!

If you were struggling before, I hope that this (extra) long guide was able to really offer you some insight and useful tips! If you read this far, thank you!

Happy writing~

3hks <3

[whetstonefires]

You know what I realize that people underestimate with Pride & Prejudice is the strategic importance of Jane.

Because like, I recently saw Charlotte and Elizabeth contrasted as the former being pragmatic and the latter holding out for a love match, because she's younger and prettier and thinks she can afford it, and that is very much not what's happening.

The Charlotte take is correct, but the Elizabeth is all wrong. Lizzie doesn't insist on a love match. That's serendipitous and rather unexpected. She wants, exactly as Mr. Bennet says, someone she can respect. Contempt won't do. Mr. Bennet puts it in weirdly sexist terms like he's trying to avoid acknowledging what he did to himself by marrying a self-absorbed idiot, but it's still true. That's what Elizabeth is shooting for: a marriage that won't make her unhappy.

She's grown up watching how miserable her parents make one another; she's not willing to sign up for a lifetime of being bitter and lonely in her own home.

I think she is very aware, in refusing Mr. Collins, that it's reasonably unlikely that anyone she actually respects is going to want her, with her few accomplishments and her lack of property. That she is turning down security and the chance keep the house she grew up in, and all she gets in return may be spinsterhood.

But, crucially, she has absolute faith in Jane.

The bit about teaching Jane's daughters to embroider badly? That's a joke, but it's also a serious potential life plan. Jane is the best creature in the world, and a beauty; there's no chance at all she won't get married to someone worthwhile.

(Bingley mucks this up by breaking Jane's heart, but her prospects remain reasonable if their mother would lay off!)

And if Elizabeth can't replicate that feat, then there's also no doubt in her mind that Jane will let her live in her house as a dependent as long as she likes, and never let it be made shameful or awful to be that impoverished spinster aunt. It will be okay never to be married at all, because she has her sister, whom she trusts absolutely to succeed and to protect her.

And if something eventually happens to Jane's family and they can't keep her anymore, she can throw herself upon the mercy of the Gardeners, who have money and like her very much, and are likewise good people. She has a support network--not a perfect or impregnable one, but it exists. It gives her realistic options.

Spinsterhood was a very dangerous choice; there are reasons you would go to considerable lengths not to risk it.

But Elizabeth has Jane, and her pride, and an understanding of what marrying someone who will make you miserable costs.

That's part of the thesis of the book, I would say! Recurring Austen thought. How important it is not to marry someone who will make you, specifically, unhappy.

She would rather be a dependent of people she likes and trusts than of someone she doesn't, even if the latter is formally considered more secure; she would rather live in a happy, reasonable household as an extra than be the mistress of her own home, but that home is full of Mr. Collins and her mother.

This is a calculation she's making consciously! She's not counting on a better marriage coming along. She just feels the most likely bad outcome from refusing Mr. Collins is still much better than the certain outcome of accepting him. Which is being stuck with Mr. Collins forever.

Elizabeth is also being pragmatic. Austen also endorses her choice, for the person she is and the concerns she has. She's just picking different trade-offs than Charlotte.

Elizabeth's flaw is not in her own priorities; she doesn't make a reckless choice and get lucky. But in being unable to accept that Charlotte's are different, and it doesn't mean there's anything wrong with Charlotte.

Because realistically, when your marriage is your whole family and career forever, and you only get to pick the ones that offer themselves to you, when you are legally bound to the status of dependent, you're always going to be making some trade-offs.

😂 Even the unrealistically ideal dream scenario of wealthy handsome clever ethical Mr. Darcy still asks you to undergo personal growth, accommodate someone else's communication style, and eat a little crow.

[syngularitysyn]

It's all fun and memes to joke about how Caitlyn immediately switched sides the moment she hears Vi call her cupcake again. And I do it too, but to me, the switch wasn't abrupt at all.

From the first scene in episode four, Caitlyn already says that the martial law has been going on much longer than she wanted. In the next scene, you see her standing up to Ambessa, using her words back at her, for which Ambessa calls her fearless. It shows that Caitlin has not given up control and is not being puppeteered by Ambessa. She's in control still, but her singular focus is still on Jinx like it was in act one.

Vi was right that Caitlyn is behaving like Jinx, but it was probably the worst thing Vi could have said to her, no matter how true, cause Caitlyn was too deep in her quest for 'justice' in her grief. That's why she reacted so violently.

Jinx is the target of Caitlyn's obsession, in her mind for justice, even though what she really wants is vengeance, and being compared to Jinx cut deep. Vi had noticed the similarity before in season one, but that was before Jinx kidnapped Caitlyn and wanted her dead.

In the beginning of episode four, she feels that it's been going on too long, but even after all those months her obsession is still stronger. Her obsession with getting vengeance, finding Jinx, killing Jinx, is still stronger than her moral compass, which she has abandoned to avenge her mother and fill her mother's shoes.

But over the course of the second act before she sees Vi again, there are multiple things that happen that make Caitlyn understand she has to stop, that what she's doing isn't right or justifiable.

Some of these were not initially clear to me when I first watched it. but one thing I realized today while I was working out is that one crucial moment for Caitlyn's arc in act two is with Singed.

Taking her singular focus off Jinx for a moment, Caitlyn does what she does best and figures out who Singed is, and what he's responsible for. She uncovers that Singed is actually the formerly revered alchemist Dr. Corin Reveck, who used to work with Heimerdinger at the academy. Arcane implies he is from Piltover and became a Zaunite after being kicked out of Piltover. He helped build up Piltover to what it is, and now he is ravaging Zaun with shimmer, weapons and monsters.

When she calls him a monster and asks him "why do all this?", he tells her he did it 'for love'. Out of love for his deceased daughter.

And I think that that is one of the crucial moments where Caitlyn starts to realize that what she is doing is not very different from him.

She's doing things her old self would never have approved, of out of love and grief for her deceased mother.

When she sees Vi again, she doesn't suddenly switch sides, she's already been doubting her chosen course of action. She initially says "you can't be here", because Caitlyn is trying to believe she's doing the right thing still, and knows Vi is a threat to that belief/lie.

Vi calling her cupcake though, is one of the last drops in the bucket. She left Vi to do what she thought she needed to do, what her mother might have done. What she's doing out of guilt for not saving her mother when she had the chance. She even tried to be with a girl her mother would have approved of.

When Vi calls her cupcake, all the feelings she's been trying to stuff away come flooding back. She snaps out of this self-imposed love-deprived state she's been in, and she can no longer deny she loves Vi.

When Vi tells her that she's trying to save her dad, I think that is the moment she actually switches sides. That was the last drop. That is the moment where she realizes there are still people she loves, who love her, who are still alive and they need her help, and that is more important than her horrible campaign for vengeance out of grief, otherwise she's no different than Singed.

[goldfades]

NOT SCARED──RAFE CAMERON

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for this request

─ summary | during an argument, you accidentally flinch.

─ pairing | rafe cameron x fem!reader

─ warnings | kinda angsty, but it softens into something fluffy and sweet. could be interpreted as ptsd?, rafe being angry, nothing else really!

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!

The room feels smaller than usual. The air, heavy with tension, presses in from all sides, thick and humid, like the heat outside the windows you forgot to crack open.

Rafe stands across from you, his face flushed—partly from the Carolina sun, partly from the argument that spiraled faster than either of you meant for it to. His eyes, usually such a cool shade of blue, burn as they lock onto yours. He was complaining about something Sarah had said offhandedly, and you couldn't bring yourself to answer. You weren't even sure what he was saying anymore. Something about how she was an ungrateful little brat?

“Are you even listening to me?” His voice cuts through the stillness, sharp and rough.

Your chest tightens, the weight of it pressing harder with each word. You stand there, rooted in place, trying to keep your composure. You want to yell back—God, you want to—but your words are caught somewhere deep in your throat, tangled in the knot of emotions you’ve been trying to hold back for what feels like hours.

And then it happens.

Rafe’s hand jerks up, a frustrated gesture, fingers raking through his hair. But you don’t see it as that—not right away. The movement is quick, too quick, and instinct takes over before you can think. Your body reacts.

You flinch.

It’s small, a barely-there movement, but in that moment, it feels seismic. Time freezes. You see the flicker of confusion cross his face, the instant shift from anger to something else—something unreadable, something that twists your stomach in knots.

The silence that follows is deafening.

The air between you both seems to collapse in on itself, heavy and suffocating, as if the room is holding its breath, waiting for what comes next. Rafe’s eyes, sharp and cutting just seconds ago, soften in a way that makes your heart stutter. You see it—the realization. The moment it hits him.

His arm lowers slowly, his fingers uncurling from where they had been tangled in his hair. There’s a flicker of guilt, maybe even hurt, in his gaze now, but he doesn’t move toward you. Not yet. He stands frozen in place, as if he’s afraid to take another step, afraid that the space between you will shatter entirely if he does.

“What the hell was that?” His voice is softer now, but there’s something raw underneath it, something that makes your chest tighten even more.

You bite down on your lip, trying to will the tremble in your hands to stop. You don’t answer right away because, honestly, you’re not sure what to say. You didn’t mean to flinch. You know Rafe would never hurt you, not like that. But it happened, and now the weight of it hangs in the air like a storm cloud ready to burst.

"I—" Your voice cracks, barely a whisper. You want to explain it away, brush it off like it’s nothing, but the words feel too fragile to stand on.

Rafe shifts his weight, his eyes flicking to the floor before they settle back on you. The tension in his shoulders hasn��t quite eased, but there’s something else there now. Vulnerability, maybe. Uncertainty.

“I wasn’t gonna—” he stops, as if the words are too heavy to finish. “You know that, right?”

You nod quickly, too quickly, because you do know. But it doesn’t change what just happened. It doesn’t erase the way your body betrayed you, reacting out of fear instead of logic, making this moment real in a way that feels unbearable.

“I didn’t mean to...” you manage, your voice small, cracking under the weight of the silence.

Your words feel hollow, barely filling the thick air between you. Rafe’s gaze lingers on you, searching for something—reassurance, maybe? Forgiveness? You’re not sure. But there’s a look in his eyes that you don’t quite recognize. Vulnerability has never been his strong suit, and seeing it now, raw and exposed, makes your stomach churn.

The seconds stretch out painfully long, the silence between you both growing louder, pressing in like a suffocating blanket. Every breath feels labored, as though the very walls of the room are closing in, shrinking with the weight of what just happened. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, fast and uneven, like it’s trying to outrun the awkwardness that’s settled between you.

“I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to scare you,” Rafe says, his voice soft but frayed at the edges. It’s like he’s unraveling right in front of you, piece by piece, and all you can do is stand there, clutching onto whatever is left of your composure.

You know he means it. You know. He would never intentionally hurt you, not physically, not in that way. But the tension from the argument, the way his hand moved so quickly, too quickly—it just triggered something deep inside you, something instinctual and uncontrollable. And now, that flinch, that split-second of fear, hangs between you like a permanent scar neither of you know how to heal.

“I didn’t mean it,” you repeat, almost like a mantra, willing the words to erase the moment. But even as you say it, your hands are still trembling, and your heart hasn’t quite settled in your chest. You feel the need to explain, to fix the mess that’s rapidly spiraling out of control. “It wasn’t you, Rafe. It’s just—”

You stop, your throat tightening as you struggle to find the right words. How do you explain something like that? How do you tell him that sometimes your body reacts before your mind can catch up, that sometimes fear sneaks in where it doesn’t belong, uninvited and unrelenting?

Rafe’s brow furrows, and he takes a small, cautious step toward you, as if testing the waters. His movements are slow, deliberate, like he’s afraid of making it worse, of pushing you further away.

“Hey…” he starts, voice softer now, almost tentative. His eyes, still locked on yours, carry a weight that makes your chest tighten. He takes another step, closer this time, closing some of the distance, but there’s still a carefulness to him, like he’s afraid to breach the invisible barrier that’s suddenly formed between you. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.”

But you want to. You need to. You need him to understand that it wasn’t his fault, that it was just the heat of the moment, the adrenaline from the argument twisting your reactions into something they weren’t supposed to be. You shake your head, trying to string together something coherent, something that will ease the hurt that’s settled in his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to flinch,” you whisper, voice cracking under the strain of your emotions. “I just… it was reflex, okay? It wasn’t you. You didn’t do anything.”

Rafe stops just a foot away from you now, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him but not close enough to touch. His hand twitches at his side, like he’s debating whether or not to reach for you. His jaw is clenched, his lips pressed into a tight line, and for a moment, he just stands there, studying you, his blue eyes clouded with a mixture of confusion, guilt, and something you can’t quite place.

“You sure about that?” His voice is barely above a whisper now, rough and strained, as if he’s holding himself together by a thread. “Because it didn’t look like nothing.”

The hurt in his tone makes your heart ache. You want to reach out, to touch him, to tell him that it really is nothing, that you’re fine, that he’s fine. But there’s a knot in your chest that refuses to loosen, tightening with every passing second.

“I’m sure,” you say, and though you try to make your voice sound steady, it wavers, betraying you. “Rafe, I know you. I know you’d never—”

“I wouldn’t,” he interrupts, his voice thick with emotion. He finally reaches out, his hand hovering in the air for a moment before it finds your arm, gently, so gently, as if he’s afraid you’ll break under his touch. His fingers wrap around your wrist, warm and steady, grounding you in the moment. “I’d never… you know that, right?”

The softness in his touch contrasts so sharply with the tension from earlier that it nearly breaks you. His thumb rubs slow, gentle circles against your skin, and for a moment, you allow yourself to close your eyes and breathe, just breathe, focusing on the steady rhythm of his hand, the warmth seeping into you.

“I know,” you whisper, opening your eyes to meet his. “I know, Rafe. It was just—”

“Instinct?” he finishes for you, his voice quiet but understanding, like he’s trying to piece together the puzzle himself. He lets out a small, shaky breath, and you can see the frustration simmering beneath the surface, not at you, but at himself. “I just hate that I made you feel like that. I hate that you even thought for a second…” He trails off, jaw tightening again, as if the words themselves are too painful to finish.

You can feel the weight of his guilt, the way it clings to him like a shadow, and you hate it. You hate that this argument—something so stupid and trivial—escalated into something that neither of you meant for it to. You hate that your body betrayed you like that, that it made Rafe question himself, question the way he loves you, the way he would never hurt you.

“I’m not scared of you,” you say, firmer this time, willing him to believe you, to really believe you. “I’m not.”

Rafe swallows hard, his hand still wrapped around your wrist, but his grip is loose, hesitant, like he’s waiting for you to pull away. But you don’t. You step closer instead, closing the last bit of distance between you, your free hand reaching up to cup the side of his face.

His skin is warm under your touch, and you can feel the tension in his jaw, the way his muscles are still tight with emotion. His eyes flutter shut for a moment, like he’s savoring the comfort, the reassurance, but when he opens them again, there’s something deeper there—something that makes your breath catch.

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” you whisper, your thumb brushing lightly across his cheek. The weight of the argument, of everything unsaid between you, feels so heavy now, and all you want is to push past it, to move forward, to fix the crack that’s formed in the foundation of what you have with him. “I’m sorry for—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Rafe cuts in gently, his voice barely above a murmur. He leans into your touch, his hand tightening ever so slightly around your wrist. “I shouldn’t have let it get this far. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

For a moment, neither of you speak. The storm of emotions between you slowly starts to settle, replaced by a tentative calm. The argument still lingers in the air, but it feels distant now, like something neither of you want to revisit. You can still feel the weight of what just happened, but standing here with him, close enough to feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, you know you’ll both be okay.

You always are.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[orchidbreezefc]

ok. years have passed and we've had some distance, so i'm finally gonna take the leap of faith that tma fandom is finally ready to hear me on this. let's talk about tannins.

161 was the first tma episode i heard on early release, and i felt the bit where martin declines wine and cites tannins was pretty obvious in its implications. cool, got it, say no more.

imagine my surprise when i was one of maybe three people i saw read between the lines there, in a fandom famous for red stringing--a fandom that immediately caught the much less obvious thread of ignition sources in the same episode. i'll spell it out: alcohol is an issue for martin.

maybe it just felt obvious because addiction is a pet issue for me--as it is for jonny, who has said everything he writes is filtered through a lens of addiction. i don't know if that's due to his own experience or a loved one's, and i won't speculate; i also don't know if martin personally struggled with drinking or just avoids it for fear he would, but alcohol would fit what we know of his family. his dad walking out and his mum spiralling into bitter wallowing and verbal abuse? i'd bet one or both of them drank, yeah.

on a basic level martin tries to decline alcohol, and that alone should have raised eyebrows given what we know of martin and, again, a fandom that dissects everything. we already knew martin "K" blackwood lied about his personal life and his family in particular, especially pre-canon, which is when this flashback took place. i was shocked that everyone took his flimsy excuse at face value with no further questions.

and the excuse is flimsy. martin turns down wine by--nervously--exclaiming tannins are "a proven headache trigger!" which sounds like trivia from a magazine cover and not the words of someone who actually has headaches--and it hasn't come up before or since. jon, confused, points out that tea, a drink martin consumes to a degree that is memetic both in- and out-of-universe, also contains tannins, and martin squawks a panicked, "what?!"

if tannins are enough of a concern for martin that he knew they're in wine and so avoids it, why didn't he know they're in his drink of choice? why does he still drink tea at the time of canon, and why doesn't he struggle with constant headaches from consuming 'a proven headache trigger' day in and day out? why, indeed, would someone avoid wine and not tea?

when sasha insists martin drink he caves and agrees to 'just a drop'. i imagine him pouring it in a plant, which admittedly he could have done if tannins really were the issue. i will say that i, for one, would be less likely to falsely agree to something that makes me physically ill than to a private issue that i'd rather not be pressed on any further. this scene also establishes martin's birthday was an ice cream party instead of the more traditional visit to a pub.

also, this scene was in the first episode of the final season, as one of three flashbacks that could have been to any pre-canon event in the archives. prime narrative real estate. not really time one would waste on establishing the important character context that martin has... headaches. which never comes up before or after, even regarding the week he spent in spiral town. but you know what is pretty crucial character background...?

it felt like a no-brainer, and yet all i saw was h/c fluff about jon attending to martin's headaches. and i hate feeling bitter about disability representation. i want folks with chronic headaches to feel seen and have fluffy escapist fantasies. i don't want to be mad about people portraying a character with a disability. but, guys? you got the wrong disability. jonny sent a clear message, and it went over fandom's head.

[edenesth]

ATEEZ as Disney Princes

Pairing(s): disney prince!ateez x disney princess!reader

Word Count: 14.4k

A/N: The title says it all. I thought it'd be fun to do something like this for the first time, deviating from my usual one member per story format teehee. Special thanks to my one and only, my pookie, @itstheghostofmypast, for helping me decide which Disney princes San, Mingi, and Wooyoung should be💘

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

Hongjoong ↠ Li Shang (Mulan)

• Leadership • Discipline • Protector •

"The Huns have struck here, here, and here," the senior General Kim pointed to the map, his voice steady and commanding. "I will lead the main troops to the Tung Shao Pass and stop Shan-Yu before he destroys this village. You will stay behind and train the new recruits. When Chi Fu believes you're ready, you will join us, Captain."

"Captain?" Hongjoong repeated, his voice filled with disbelief. This was the moment he had been dreaming of for as long as he could remember. He had trained the hardest and longest among his batch, fighting tirelessly to prove his worth to his commanding officer. It was finally his time to shine and demonstrate his capabilities.

"I believe you will do an excellent job," General Kim affirmed.

"Oh, I will. I won't let you down, sir," the younger man replied with determination.

It was during the Imperial dynasty in China that, as the Huns attempted to invade, the nation plunged into war. Yet, not all hope was lost. The young and fiery Captain Hongjoong was assigned to take charge of the new recruits. He would motivate them and push them to reach their full potential. His ability to inspire and lead by example would soon become evident as he transformed a group of untrained soldiers into a disciplined unit.

⁞

Throughout the training, Hongjoong enforces strict discipline among his soldiers. He sets high standards and expectations, ensuring that the recruits develop the necessary skills and physical conditioning through rigorous exercises. His disciplined approach is crucial in preparing them for the challenges ahead.

You would know this firsthand. Despite your best efforts, you had lost hope, feeling out of place because, at the end of the day, you were not a man. But Hongjoong didn't know that. No one in the camp knew.

"You're unsuited for the rage of war. So pack up and go home," he had said, shaking his head in disappointment as he stalked off.

There was something about him that made you want to fight harder, to prove that you could do what the other soldiers could. To his pleasant surprise, he emerged from his tent the following morning to see your fellow soldiers applauding you for successfully completing the toughest task in the camp.

This was exactly what he wanted to see.

You used to fear him for his harsh and uncompromising behaviour, but now you understand. In the face of war, no one would show you kindness or consideration. Captain Hongjoong was doing exactly what he needed to prepare everyone for that reality.

⁞

"You think your troops are ready to fight?" Chi Fu scoffed. "They wouldn't last a minute against the Huns!"

Hongjoong scowled, clenching his fists. "They completed their training."

"Those boys are no more fit to be soldiers than you are to be a captain. Once the general reads my report, your troops will never see battle," Chi Fu sneered, gesturing for the younger man to leave.

"We're not finished!" Hongjoong called out, grabbing the man's arm.

"Be careful, Captain. The general may be your father, but I am the Emperor's counsel. And I got that job on my own. You're dismissed," Chi Fu said snarkily, pulling open the flap of his tent.

There it was—the comment Hongjoong hated most. Being called the son of General Kim. He had heard enough whispers of nepotism, undermining his hard-earned success. He didn't want to be seen as just the general's son; he had worked tirelessly to earn his position.

He stormed out of the tent, surprised to see you standing there. "Hey, I'll hold him, and you punch," you joked nervously, but he frowned and continued walking. "Or not." You bit your lip as he walked away. "For what it's worth, I think you're a great captain."

His steps faltered for a moment, and he turned to meet your eyes briefly. In that fleeting glance, his eyes seemed to show what looked like a hint of appreciation before he continued on his way.

At least someone still believed in him.

⁞

And that someone was… a girl.

Hongjoong discovered this during the mountain battle when the Huns ambushed and you saved him. You had lied, fooling everyone, even him. How dare you? How dare you… try to save your father's life by volunteering to fight in the war? After the initial feelings of disappointment and betrayal, he realised just how brave you were—a quality that put cowardly men to shame.

Not only that, your perseverance had ended up saving China, something he couldn't have done without you.

Guilt overwhelmed him after leaving you behind, injured and alone on the snowy mountain, after you had risked your life to save his. The image of you lying vulnerable and exposed in the small tent haunted him—your hair finally let down, revealing your true identity; your petite frame contrasting with the fabric tightly wrapped around your chest to hide your gender. In his emotional turmoil at the time, he had abandoned you. But if he could do it over, he knew he would have done everything differently to protect you.

That's why he was determined to make up for his mistake by protecting you now, even though he knew deep down that he would have protected you regardless.

"Where is she?! Now she's done it! What a mess! Stand aside! That creature's not worth protecting," the Emperor's counsel screeched, trying to push past Hongjoong, who was shielding you. He gestured toward the destroyed portion of the palace from your earlier battle with Shan-Yu and his men.

The captain stood his ground. "She's a hero."

"She's a woman. She'll never be worth anything."

"Listen, you pompous..." Hongjoong growled, grabbing Chi Fu by the collar.

"That's enough!" the Emperor roared, breaking the two apart. The focus shifted to what was truly important: the fact that the war was finally over, thanks to a certain female warrior.

⁞

While Hongjoong possessed exceptional leadership skills, discipline, and a protective nature, he still had moments of foolishness.

"You, uhh... you fight good."

Was that all he could muster? After everything you had been through together, perhaps you were overthinking it. Maybe he didn't see you in that way at all. Maybe you were just another good soldier to him.

"Oh. Thank you."

Like an idiot, he watched you depart, a sense of longing tugging at his heart. Unbeknownst to him, the Emperor appeared beside him, clearing his throat before speaking, "The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all."

"Sir?" Hongjoong blinked in confusion.

"You don't meet a girl like that in every dynasty," the Emperor remarked, indirectly calling the captain a fool, shaking his head in disbelief before returning to the palace.

Finally grasping the meaning behind His Excellency's words, Captain Hongjoong hastily mounted the nearest horse and rode swiftly to your family estate. He should have recognised the affection he felt for you sooner. Gosh, he truly had been clueless.

He arrived just in time to interrupt your tearful reunion with your father. "Uhh… you forgot your helmet!" he stuttered, turning awkwardly to the elderly man beside you, the one you had gone to war for. "W-well, actually, it's your helmet, isn't it? I mean…"

You suppressed a smile, feeling your heart flutter as you understood his obvious reason for visiting. Stepping closer to him, you reached out to accept the helmet. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

He blushed. "Dinner would be great."

Seonghwa ↠ Prince Charming (Cinderella)

• Gentlemanly • Graceful • Loyal •

"Miss! Are you alright?" the prince called out after helping you rein in your horse, which had been racing out of control. You huffed in frustration. "I'm fine, but you nearly scared the life out of him."

He frowned, confused. "Who?"

"The stag," you replied incredulously. How could he act so innocent when he and his group had been hunting down a poor creature? "What did he ever do to you to deserve being chased like that?"

His Highness struggled to suppress the smile tugging at his lips. The way you spoke of the animal as if it were a dear friend was endearing, and he could see that you genuinely cared for the animal. Not many girls your age, at least those he had met, would show such compassion. "Miss, what do they call you?"

Your smile faltered, memories of the cruel names your stepmother and stepsisters used flashing in your mind. "It doesn't matter what they call me."

"You shouldn't be this deep in the forest alone," he pointed out.

"I'm not alone. I'm with you, Mister...?" you said lightly, before pausing and glancing at him curiously. "What do they call you?"

Realising you had no clue who he was, he chuckled. "You don't know who I am?" His expression softened when he saw that you truly didn't recognise him. "Well... they call me Seonghwa. At least, my father does when he's in a good mood."

There was something refreshing about meeting someone who didn't know his royal identity, and he felt strangely free at this moment. Determined to keep it that way, he quickly came up with white lies to conceal the truth. Just then, you noticed the group of men who had been hunting with him gallop by, and you swallowed nervously. "You'll leave the stag alone, won't you?"

He paused, captivated by your sincerity and beauty—both inside and out—before nodding slowly. "I will."

⁞

"If I must marry, why not a good, honest country girl?" Seonghwa slyly suggested, posing for his portrait as part of the preparations for the royal ball, where he was expected to find a bride. Ever since meeting you that day in the woods, you hadn't left his thoughts.

The Grand Duke barely held back a chuckle. "And how many strong alliances will this 'good, honest country girl' provide us? How will she strengthen the kingdom? We are a small nation surrounded by powerful states, Your Royal Highness, and it's a dangerous world."

His Majesty sighed at the man's sarcastic tone and approached his son. "Listen, boy. I want to see you safe—and the kingdom secure."

Seonghwa's expression darkened at the gentle rejection. "Alright, Father, but on one condition. Let the invitations go to everyone, not just the nobility. The wars have brought grief to all of us."

That was all it took to set things in motion. "A ball for the people, a princess for the prince," the advisor muttered, unaware of how determined His Highness truly was. His plan to see you again was falling into place.

Days later, as you wandered through the town market, you heard the town crier make the announcement. "Know that in two weeks, a Royal Ball will be held at the palace. At said ball, in accordance with ancient custom, the prince shall choose a bride. Furthermore, by the prince's request, it is hereby declared that every maiden in the kingdom, be she noble or commoner, is invited to attend. Such is the command of our most noble king."

Eager to see the apprentice—at least, that's what he claimed to be—whom you'd met in the forest just the other day, you rushed home to share the news with your stepmother and stepsisters, brimming with excitement. But, of course, things were not going to unfold the way you had hoped.

⁞

"You shall not go to the ball!" were your stepmother's cruel words after she ripped apart your mother's old gown.

Yet here you stood, in front of everyone in the grand hall, now adorned in a magical gown and sparkling glass slippers, thanks to your fairy godmother. The prince's face lit up the moment he saw you, gazing at you like you were the most beautiful girl in the world—and to him, you were. No one could ever compare.

"Mr. Seonghwa," you called softly as the crowd parted, allowing you to approach him. His heart melted at the sound of his name on your lips. "It's you, isn't it?" he asked, smiling. "It is," you replied with a smile of your own.

Gathering his courage, he swallowed nervously. "If I may—it would be the greatest honour if you'd allow me to lead you in this first dance."

Your heart fluttered, and you nodded. With your permission, he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close. The proximity made your breath hitch as your hand rested on his shoulder. He spun you around, and for a moment, you caught the eyes of the crowd. "They're all looking at you," you whispered, turning to face him again.

He smiled softly, shaking his head. "Trust me, they're all looking at you." In that moment, nothing else mattered to him but you. Holding you close, he couldn't tear his eyes away, not even for a second. He could stay like this forever.

⁞

"So, you're the prince!" you exclaimed as he led you away from the crowd into a secluded room, offering you both a moment of peace and quiet.

"Not the prince, exactly," he replied with a playful grin. "There are plenty of princes in the world. I'm just a prince."

You chuckled softly. "But your name's not really Seonghwa, is it?"

He laughed. "Oh, it is. My father still calls me that—especially when he's not too irritated with me."

As you both shared a laugh, your eyes landed on a portrait hanging on the wall. "Is that you?" you asked curiously, moving toward it.

He sighed. "Ugh, I hate how I look in paintings. Don't you?"

You shrugged. "No one's ever painted my portrait."

He paused, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "No? Well, they should."

For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as you stared at one another, neither wanting the moment to end. Reluctant to part from you, Seonghwa led you out into the palace garden.

"What's bothering you?" you asked, noticing the flicker of concern in his eyes as you strolled down the grassy paths.

He forced a smile. "When I go back, they'll try to marry me off to a lady of their choosing. I'm expected to marry for political advantage."

You gave him a gentle smile. "But surely you have a right to follow your own heart."

He sighed, wishing that were true. Not wanting the evening to end just yet, he guided you to a hidden spot. "A secret garden," you murmured in awe, stepping into the beautiful, secluded space. In the centre stood a swing, and at his insistence, he pushed you gently, laughing together until one of your glass slippers slipped off.

Like the gentleman he was, Seonghwa immediately knelt down to help you put it back on. Once it was secure, you found yourself sitting close to him, your breaths catching as he remained on his knees, gazing up at you.

"Won't you tell me who you really are?" he asked softly, a hint of desperation in his voice.

You swallowed nervously. "If I do, everything might change."

His expression tugged at your heart. "I don't understand... Can you at least tell me your name?"

You hesitated, then whispered, "My name is—"

The loud chime of the clock rang out, striking midnight. Panic surged through you. "I have to go! It's... hard to explain. Thank you for a wonderful evening. I've loved every moment!" were your final words as you hurried away.

⁞

"Miss, you are requested and required to present yourself before your king," said the captain of the royal guard, as your cruel stepmother finally unlocked the door to your attic room.

The king...?

That could only mean Seonghwa, with his father having recently passed. Despite your stepmother's desperate attempts to stop you, she could no longer keep you from meeting him. With nervous breaths, you made your way down to the living hall where he waited. Would you be enough? There was no magic to help you now.

"Who are you?" he asked, holding the single glass slipper in his hand.

With a deep breath, you finally spoke your truth. "Your Majesty, I'm no princess. I have no carriage, no parents, and no dowry. I don't even know if that beautiful slipper will fit. But if it does, will you take me as I am? An honest country girl who loves you."

A soft smile spread across his face. His loyalty has only ever been to you and only you from the very beginning. "Of course I will. But only if you will take me as I am."

In that final moment of truth, you sat before him just like that night, and without hesitation, Seonghwa gently slipped the shoe onto your foot. It fit perfectly. After searching the entire kingdom to find you, you were finally here, his at last.

A few days later, you stood beside him in a wedding gown, facing the people as their queen. "My Queen," he whispered, cupping your face amidst the cheers of the crowd.

"My Hwa," you murmured, just before he pressed his lips firmly against yours.

Yunho ↠ Prince Phillip (Sleeping Beauty)

• Brave • Romantic • Strong-willed •

"We want you to go pick some berries! Lots of berries! But take your time, dear. Don't wander too far, and remember—no talking to strangers! Goodbye, dear," your three godmothers chimed in unison as you waved them off. They were so charmingly silly, and though you knew they were up to something for your 16th birthday, you played along and agreed to leave the cosy little cottage you'd grown up in.

What you didn't know was that your godmothers were feeling bittersweet. After the celebration, they would be returning you to your true parents—the king and queen. They had kept you hidden all these years from Maleficent's curse, and now, believing it was finally safe, they prepared to send you home. Or so they thought.

Completely unaware of this, you happily made your way to the forest where you often spent your days, swinging the empty basket in your hand and singing a familiar tune.

Not far off, Yunho caught the sound of your voice—the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He pulled his horse to a stop, biting his lip in wonder. "What is that? It's... beautiful." Turning toward the source of the melody, he couldn't resist. "Come on, let's go find out."

In his haste to reach you, his horse galloped ahead, easily leaping over a low log—unfortunately, not quite low enough for the prince. Yunho yelped as he was thrown into a shallow pond, landing with a splash. He groaned, unamused, as his horse sheepishly returned, having noticed his rider was no longer on board.

So much for chasing the magical voice. Now he was stuck with wet clothes, needing to dry off before he could continue his search.

⁞

"Why do they still treat me like a child? They never let me meet anyone..." you sighed, speaking to the animals gathered around you. "But guess what? I tricked them. I have met someone—a prince. He's tall, handsome, and... so romantic. We walk together, talk together, and just before we say goodbye, he takes me in his arms, and then..." you teased with a playful smile. "I wake up."

"Yes, it's only in my dreams."

Pushing aside your wistful thoughts, you continued to sing softly while gathering berries. But to your surprise, another voice joined in—a deep, masculine voice. Before you knew it, a pair of arms gently mirrored the way yours had been swaying in your daydream.

"Oh. Oh!" you gasped, pulling away as you realised this wasn't a dream. A man was standing before you, real and not imagined. Not wanting to frighten you, he kept his distance and bowed politely. "I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

You blinked, trying to calm your racing heart as you took in his features—he looked exactly like the man you had seen in your dreams. "Oh, it's not that... it's just that you're a..."

As you instinctively stepped back, he gently reached for your hand. "A stranger?" he finished for you, and you nodded. Before you could pull away, he smiled and held on softly. "But don't you remember? We've met before."

"We... have?" you whispered, your voice faltering.

He nodded, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. "Of course. You said so yourself. Once upon a dream."

You couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips as you turned away, amused by how he cleverly quoted your song. At first, you resisted, but soon you found yourself in his arms, dancing to the tune you had been singing. Except this time, you were no longer alone—you were dancing with him.

As if caught in a dream, you eventually leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as the two of you stood beneath a tree, gazing out at the beautiful view. His voice was soft when he asked, "Who are you? What's your name?"

"My name..." you started, staring up into his eyes, momentarily mesmerised by them. You almost gave him your name, but then reality hit you—you didn't even know him. With a gasp, you pulled away from his hold. "No, no, I can't. I—I have to go! Goodbye!"

Yunho panicked, not ready to let you slip away. Call it love at first sight, but he knew, deep down, you were the one. "But when will I see you again?" he called out, his eyes filled with longing as he watched you retreat into the forest.

"Tonight! At the cottage in the glen!" you blurted out, against your better judgement. Deep down, you couldn't bear the thought of leaving and never seeing him again either.

⁞

"This is the happiest day of my life!" you exclaimed, admiring the beautiful dress and the delicious cake your godmothers had made for you. "Everything is so perfect. Just wait until you meet him!"

"Him? Y-you've met a stranger?" one of the fairies asked, concerned.

You smiled dreamily. "Oh, he's not a stranger. We've met before—once upon a dream."

The fairies exchanged worried glances, their hearts breaking as they realised... you were in love. "Oh no, this is terrible. You're already betrothed."

"Betrothed?" Your heart sank.

"Since the day you were born, dear. To Prince Yunho."

You frowned in disbelief. "But that's impossible! How could I marry a prince? I'd have to be..."

"A princess," they finished for you. "And you are, dear. Tonight, we're taking you back to your father, King Stefan."

Shaking your head, you struggled to process the sudden revelation. "But... I can't! He's coming here tonight. I promised to meet him."

"We're sorry, child, but you must never see that young man again," one of them said softly.

It felt like a cruel joke. Just when you had finally met the man of your dreams, it all crumbled. That night, you cried yourself to sleep, your 16th birthday turning into something far from the magical day you had hoped for. And it was only going to get worse.

With a curse of eternal sleep.

⁞

"Oh, come now, Prince Yunho. Why so melancholy?" Maleficent's sinister voice echoed through the dungeon as he lifted his head, his hands shackled in heavy chains. She had trapped him during his visit to your vacant cottage and now kept him imprisoned on her Forbidden Mountain. "A wondrous future lies before you," she mocked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You, the destined hero of a charming fairy tale come true."

With a wave of her hand over the glowing crystal ball atop her staff, she smirked. "Behold, King Stefan's castle." A vision slowly materialised in the crystal, and his heart sank.

"In the highest tower, dreaming of her true love, lies the princess," Maleficent sneered. "But in a cruel twist of fate, this sleeping beauty is none other than the peasant girl who won your heart just yesterday." Her grin widened as the image shifted. "In an ageless sleep, she rests, untouched by time. A hundred years will pass in the blink of an eye for a steadfast heart."

The crystal revealed an older, wearier version of His Highness. "And now, the gates of the dungeon open, and our valiant prince rides forth, tall and noble, to wake his love with a kiss—proving that true love conquers all!"

Her wicked laughter filled the air as the prince surged to his feet, straining against the chains. The revelation hit him hard—you were his betrothed all along. His heart shattered at the sight of you, cursed to an endless sleep. But he refused to wait idly for a century. No matter the cost, even if it took his life, nothing would stop him from reaching you and breaking the spell.

⁞

Through trials that nearly cost him his life more than once, Yunho pressed on, driven by a love that burned stronger than fear. Every step, every swing of his sword, had been for you. Now, as he climbed the winding staircase of the tower where you lay, his heart pounded louder than it ever had. Strangely, facing you was far more terrifying than battling a dragon or plummeting from a cliff.

What if his kiss didn't wake you? What if he wasn't the one you dreamed of all this time? His mind raced with doubts, but all of them vanished the moment he laid eyes on you.

There you were, peacefully resting, untouched by the passage of time. His breath caught in his throat as he knelt beside you, his hands trembling slightly, almost afraid that if he reached out, you might disappear like a fading dream. Gently, he lifted a hand to brush your hair away from your face, his fingers lingering as they drifted down to caress your cheek. The softness of your skin beneath his touch made his heart clench. God, you were beautiful. Even in this endless sleep, you were breathtaking, and the thought that you were his—the one his heart had longed for—was almost too much to believe.

Ignoring the wild rhythm of his heartbeat, he leaned in closer. He hesitated, his lips hovering above yours, terrified and hopeful. Slowly, he closed the distance, pressing his lips tenderly against yours, his touch as gentle as a whisper. Time seemed to stand still. His entire world narrowed down to that single, precious moment.

Then, something incredible happened. He felt you stir, your lips moving ever so softly in response to his. Tears welled up in his eyes as he pulled back slightly, his gaze searching your face, desperate to see the miracle of your awakening. "Please," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "come back to me."

A soft smile played on your lips as your eyes fluttered open. "I'm here, stranger," you murmured. Yunho let out a tearful laugh, pure joy flooding his heart as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. Nothing had ever felt so perfect.

Yeosang ↠ Hercules (Hercules)

• Strength • Determination • Humility •

A scream pierced the air, and without a second thought, Yeosang urged Pegasus to dive down past the clouds toward the waterfall, where a damsel was clearly in distress. This was it��his first real chance to prove himself as a true hero. Soon enough, he'd restore his godhood and join his parents back in Olympus.

"I swear, Nessus, put me down or I'll—" you growled, struggling in the grasp of the River Guardian, a centaur who was supposed to be an ally on your mission for Hades, but he was proving to be more trouble than he was worth.

"Ooh, I like 'em fiery," the creature sneered, pulling you closer as you tried in vain to wriggle free.

The hero-in-training gasped, his blood boiling at the sight of you being manhandled. Not on his watch. Ignoring his trainer's advice to assess the situation, he charged forward recklessly. Phil groaned. "This kid is losing hero points fast!"

"Halt!" Yeosang called out, though his voice wavered when Nessus towered over him. "Excuse me, sir," he continued, much to the centaur's surprise. Who was this polite little pest? "I'll have to ask you to release that young la—"

You shot him a frustrated look. "Keep walking, junior."

He blinked, confused. "But... aren't you a damsel in distress?"

"I'm a damsel, I'm in distress," you snapped. "I can handle it. Have a nice day." Despite your sarcastic smile, you were still stuck in the centaur's grip, struggling to break free.

Yeosang, however, wasn't one to give up so easily. A bit flustered by your brush-off, he unsheathed his sword. "Ma'am, I think you might be too close to the situation to—" Before he could finish, Nessus sent him flying across the field.

After several clumsy attempts and a lot of trial and error, he finally managed to free you from the River Guardian's hold, though you both ended up soaked in the river. Quickly, he lifted you out of the water as if you weighed nothing and set you gently on a nearby log. "Oh, gosh, miss, I'm really sorry. That was... kind of dumb."

"Yeah," you replied with a crooked smile, wringing out your hair. Before you could say anything more, he dashed back into the fray. You smirked, amused by his naive determination and innocent sense of righteousness. It had been a while since you'd seen such a genuine do-gooder. "Is Wonderboy here for real?"

⁞

"So, did they give you a name to go with all those rippling pectorals?" you teased, bending over to adjust the skirt of your dress.

The hero's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as he stared at you, now bathed in the golden light of the sunset. You were a sight for sore eyes—more beautiful than Aphrodite herself, he dared to think.

He chuckled nervously, stammering like a shy schoolboy. "Uh, I'm—I… uh…"

You smirked, standing back up and retrieving the shoes he had been awkwardly holding for you. "Are you always this articulate?"

"Yeosang!" he blurted out, watching you walk away. "My... my name's Yeosang!"

Making your way to a nearby log to sit down, you glanced up at him with a playful grin. "Yeosang, huh? I think I prefer Wonderboy."

He bit his lip, completely unaware of how poorly he was hiding his emotions. It was obvious to anyone that he was completely mesmerised by you. "So, how'd you get tangled up with that..."

"Pinhead with hooves? Oh, you know how men are. They think 'no' means 'yes' and 'get lost' means 'take me, I'm yours,'" you quipped, your voice dripping with sarcasm. He blinked, clearly confused by your response. You rolled your eyes and gestured toward his trainer. "Don't worry, shorty here will explain it to you later."

Phil shot you an irritated glare, but you just waved him off. "Well, thanks for everything, Yeo. It's been a real slice."

You had barely taken a few steps when the hero called after you again, his voice full of determination. "Wait! Can we give you a ride?"

You glanced at Pegasus and Phil, both clearly unimpressed with you, and smirked. "Nah, I'll be fine. I'm a big, tough girl. I tie my own sandals and everything."

Leaning in, you gave him a quick boop on the nose, chuckling as he stood there with that dreamy smile still plastered on his face. "Bye-bye, Wonderboy."

⁞

You hadn't expected to see him again so soon, but there he was, and you had to act fast. Running up to him, you let out a false cry. "Please! Help! There's been a terrible accident!" You hated dragging him into this, but with Hades holding your freedom hostage, you had no choice. You had to lure him into the trap.

The hero's face brightened the moment he saw you, your name escaping his lips with excitement. After his earlier failure in Thebes, seeing you lifted his spirits. He needed this—he needed you.

"Wonderboy! Yeosang! Thank goodness!" you exclaimed, stumbling into his arms with an air of desperation. His grip on you tightened protectively, his eyes wide with concern. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice full of worry.

Sniffling, you wiped your fake tears away. "Outside of town... two little boys. They were playing in the gorge. There was a terrible rockslide. They're trapped!"

"Kids? Trapped? This is my chance! Come on!" Before you could object, he had already hoisted you onto Pegasus despite your protests. "No, wait! I... I have a terrible fear of heights!" But it was too late—you were already in the sky, holding on tightly as the wind whipped past.

When you finally arrived, he noticed how shaken you seemed. His brow furrowed in concern. "Are you okay?"

You nodded weakly. "I'll be fine." But even then, he gently pulled you close, helping you down. The flutter in your chest was unwelcome—you shouldn't feel this way. You stayed back, watching as he rushed forward, unaware of the Hydra waiting to destroy him. Hades had set it up perfectly, and this was Yeosang's end. You should have focused on your own survival, but you couldn't help whispering under your breath, "Get out of here while you still can..."

Despite everything, he wasn't deterred. Time and again, he fought against what seemed like a certain defeat, his determination unshakable. Even after facing near death, he refused to give up, ultimately defeating the monster.

As much as you hated to admit it, seeing him fight with such bravery and resolve stirred something inside you. His courage, his power—it only deepened your admiration for him.

⁞

"Wow, what a day," Yeosang said with a wide grin, descending the stairs into the picturesque garden. "First, that restaurant by the bay, and then the play!" His voice was animated, clearly still buzzing from the events of your date. Meanwhile, you struggled to maintain your smile, Hades' voice echoing in your mind with his latest demand. His patience was thinning after so many failed attempts. Now, he wanted you to find the hero's weakness.

When he turned to you, thanking you for such a wonderful time, you winced inwardly. "Don't thank me just yet," you muttered, setting your plan into motion. You deliberately tripped on the stairs, conveniently falling into his strong arms.

"Oops! Weak ankles," you murmured, biting your lip as you savoured the feeling of being so close to him. His grip was firm yet gentle.

"Yeah? Maybe you should sit down for a bit," he suggested like the gentleman he always was, carrying you over to a bench and setting you down with care. But how long would he stay a gentleman?

You shrugged, letting one of your dress straps slide down your shoulder, flashing him a seductive smile. "So, do you have any problems like this?" you asked, testing the waters as you slowly lifted one leg onto his lap. "Weak ankles, I mean."

His eyes widened, and he cleared his throat, gently but firmly pushing your leg back down. "Oh, no. Not really..." he stammered, inching away while you leaned in closer.

"No weaknesses at all?" you teased, pressing against his chest. "No trick knee? Ruptured discs?"

Yeosang just chuckled nervously, his face reddening. Instead of falling for your flirtation, he reached over and pulled your strap back over your shoulder. "Nope. I'm... fit as a fiddle," he said, quickly moving away toward the fountain, where he clumsily tossed a coin and knocked over a statue.

You sighed, walking over to him. "Wonderboy, you're perfect," you muttered with a teasing laugh. Time seemed to freeze as your eyes met his, a flicker of something different passing between you. Biting your lip, you quickly looked away. Maybe, just maybe, he really was different from the men who had hurt you before.

⁞

"You know, when I was a kid, I would've given anything to be just like everyone else," Yeosang said softly, his eyes tracing the path of a shooting star across the night sky.

You scoffed, crossing your arms as you moved away to sit by the water, staring at your reflection with a bitter frown. "You wanted to be petty and dishonest?" You knew what people were like—you were one of them.

His smile faltered. "Not everyone's like that."

"Yes, they are," you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

"You're not like that," he said gently, appearing behind you. You smirked, feeling a tightness in your throat as you tried to keep your emotions in check. "How do you know what I'm like?" you croaked, wishing he'd stop making it so hard for you.

"All I know is you're the most amazing person with weak ankles I've ever met," he teased, his voice full of warmth. You chuckled until he continued, "When I'm with you, I don't feel so alone."

You avoided his gaze, your heart aching. "Sometimes it's better to be alone."

His smile faltered again. "What do you mean?"

You swallowed hard, your voice barely a whisper. "Nobody can hurt you."

He sat down beside you, reaching out to take your hands in his. "I would never, ever hurt you."

If only he knew...

Before you could say anything, he was already leaning in. Against your better judgement, your eyes fluttered closed, anticipation hanging between you. But just as your lips were about to meet, Pegasus and Phil appeared, breaking the moment and pulling Yeosang back to his training.

"I'm sorry for getting you in trouble," you murmured, feeling conflicted.

He just smiled, shaking his head, and handed you a small flower, gently pressing a kiss to your cheek. As he walked away, you were left behind—completely a mess.

⁞

"Wonderboy, why did you…?" you croaked, your voice weak after returning from death—literally. Yeosang had been crushed when he learned of your betrayal, discovering you had been working for Hades all along. But as you sacrificed yourself to save him, he realised none of that mattered anymore. Why hadn't he thought deeper about your reasons? If only he had understood that maybe you didn't have a choice.

In his selfless determination to exchange his life for yours, he had finally become a true hero. Tears welled up in his eyes as he helped you to your feet, pulling you gently back into his loving arms. "People always do crazy things when they're in love," he whispered—the same words you had said to him before your death.

So, he had felt the same all along.

"Now, at last, my son, you can come home," Zeus said, resting a proud hand on Yeosang's shoulder as he gestured to the now-open gates of Mount Olympus. The hero, now a god, beamed as the other gods swarmed him, celebrating his return.

From afar, you watched with a fading smile. Of course, he belonged to a different world. You were foolish to think you could ever truly be with him. "Congratulations, Wonderboy. You'll make one heck of a god," you whispered to yourself, turning to walk away.

But while the heavens rejoiced, Yeosang only had eyes for one person. His heart sank when he saw you leaving. "Father, this is the moment I've dreamed of my whole life, but…" He trailed off, racing after you and catching your hand. "A life without her, even an immortal life, would be empty. I… I wish to stay on Earth with her. I finally know where I belong."

And with that, he pulled you into his arms, the divine glow fading as he leaned in, his lips meeting yours at last.

San ↠ Kristoff (Frozen)

• Down-to-earth • Hardworking • Quirky •

"I was just wondering... has another young woman, maybe the queen, passed through here?" you asked, trying to sound casual, even though the bitter cold from Elsa's winter had you shivering uncontrollably. You were gathering what supplies you could from Wandering Oaken's Trading Post on your journey to find your sister. You needed to fix this, and to do that, she had to return to Arendelle.

"The only one crazy enough to be out in this storm is you, dear," the store owner chuckled, and you offered him an awkward smile. Before you could respond, the door suddenly swung open and slammed shut just as quickly. A man, completely covered in snow—literally—stepped in with a weary sigh, shaking off the frost by the entrance.

"You and this fellow," Oaken added, gesturing to the newcomer.

Without a word, the man walked straight to the counter, forcing you to step aside awkwardly. "Carrots," he muttered, stepping closer.

"Huh?" you blinked, confused by how close he was.

"Behind you," he clarified, and you realised you were blocking the carrots he was reaching for. Feeling a bit foolish, you quickly moved aside. "Oh! Right, sorry."

Through his conversation with the store owner, you caught a crucial piece of information. "The North Mountain..." you murmured to yourself, eyes narrowing in thought. That must be where Elsa had gone. At least now you had a lead—north it was.

"That'll be forty," Oaken said, ringing up the man's items.

"Forty? No, ten," the man countered, clearly unimpressed.

Deep in thought, you barely registered the tense negotiation between the two, both stubborn and unwilling to compromise. You only snapped back when you heard the man explain his dilemma—he sold ice for a living, and in this weather, he wasn't making any money. "Look, ten is all I've got. Help me out."

Before Oaken could respond, you jumped in. "Wait, just tell me one thing. What's happening on the North Mountain? Did it seem… magical?" There was desperation in your voice.

With an exasperated sigh, the man pulled down his scarf, revealing, to your surprise, a strikingly handsome face. For a second, you had thought him a brute. "Yes! Now back off while I deal with this crook."

Big mistake. The store owner stood up from his seat, towering over the both of you like a giant. "What did you call me?" And before the man knew it, he was tossed out of the shop—minus his carrots.

⁞

"Nice duet," you quipped, pushing open the door to the shack where you heard the man from earlier, now singing and impersonating his reindeer, Sven.

Startled, San jumped up defensively, only to relax with a sigh when he saw it was just you. "It's you again. What do you want?"

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward with determination. "I want you to take me up the North Mountain."

He remained unimpressed, sinking back down to resume his sleep. "I don't take people places."

You should've known it wouldn't be that easy. "Let me rephrase," you said, tossing a bag at him. He jolted up, wheezing from the impact. "Take me up the North Mountain," you repeated more firmly, though you softened a little as he raised a brow. "Please?"

Sven started sniffing the bag, drawing his attention. San opened it to find the tools he'd been after. You bit your lip. "Look, I know how to stop this winter."

With a sigh, he pulled his beanie over his face. "Ugh, we leave at dawn." Just as you were about to celebrate, he added, "And you forgot the carrots for Sven."

Frustrated but undeterred, you hurled another bag at him, this time hitting him square in the face. He grunted in pain, sitting up again. Your eyes widened in panic. "Oops! Sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean—" you stammered before regaining your composure. Clearing your throat, you declared firmly, "We leave now. Right now." You turned and marched out, letting out a breath of relief the moment you were out of sight. He really was intimidating.

Unbeknownst to you, he watched you leave, eyebrows narrowed. Not out of anger, but something else—a mix of mild annoyance and, oddly enough, admiration. You were quite the character.

⁞

"So, uhh, tell me—what made the queen go all ice-crazy?" San asked, trying to pry some information as the two of you sat on his sled, the cold winter night biting at your skin.

You gulped, unsure where to begin. "Well... it was kinda my fault. I got engaged, and she freaked out because I'd just met him that day, you know? She refused to bless the marriage and..." You trailed off, noticing the way he was staring at you.

"Wait, hold on—you got engaged to someone you just met that day?" he asked, his face a mix of disbelief and judgement.

You nodded, waving it off like it was no big deal. "Yeah, anyway, I got mad, she got mad, she tried to leave, and I grabbed her glove..."

He blinked and turned fully towards you. "Hang on! You're telling me you got engaged to a guy you just met that day?"

"Yes," you sighed in frustration. "Pay attention. The point is, she always wore gloves, so I figured maybe she has a thing about dirt or something."

San couldn't believe what he was hearing. You'd agreed to marry someone you'd only met that very day? Even if that someone was a prince, at the end of the day, he was just another man. The idea of it baffled him to no end. He couldn't help the surge of protectiveness that welled up in him. Sure, you seemed a little silly and unhinged compared to the girls he'd met, but you were still an innocent young woman—too trusting for your own good. And that could get you in serious trouble.

If judgemental had a face, it was sitting right next to you. "Didn't your parents ever warn you about strangers?"

You paused, the comment sinking in, and shifted uncomfortably, inching away from him. "Yes, they did. But Hans isn't a stranger."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. That led to a back-and-forth about how much you really knew the Prince of the Southern Isles. The more you talked, the more San found himself silently shaking his head at your naivety, though he couldn't help but feel a small, growing fondness for you, as crazy as your story was.

Suddenly, he stiffened. "Stop talking."

You scoffed, still mid-argument. "No, no—"

Before you could finish, he slapped a hand over your mouth. "No, I mean it," his voice tense, eyes scanning the dark forest ahead.

⁞

"Wolves?" you asked anxiously, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might leap out of your chest. "What do we do?"

"I got this," he said, busy moving around like he knew exactly what he was doing. But your nerves wouldn’t let you sit still. "Just… don't fall off and don't get eaten."

You frowned, stepping up beside him. "But I want to help!"

"No!" he barked, pulling you back.

"Why not?!"

"Because I don't trust your judgement!"

Your jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

"Who marries a guy she just met?!" he shouted as he pushed you behind him and kicked away a wolf that had nearly pounced on you.

"It's true love!" you yelled back, swinging his guitar wildly. Startling him, but you managed to knock another wolf away. "Woah!"

Slightly impressed, he froze for a second, but in that moment of distraction, a wolf sank its teeth into his jacket, pulling him off the sled. You gasped, screaming, "Santiago!"

He grunted, grabbing onto the sled's rope, and glaring up at you. "It's San!"

"Ow!" he yelped as the wolves bit into his back. Despite barely knowing him, your heart dropped, hoping he wasn't seriously hurt. In a burst of quick thinking, you grabbed a bundle of cloth, lit it on fire, and threw it at the wolves, scaring them off.

As you regained control, you realised the sled was speeding toward the edge of a mountain. Your breath caught in your throat—the only way to make it across was if the reindeer jumped. "Get ready to jump, Sven!"

San shot you a look. "You don't tell him what to do. I do!" He shoved a bag into your arms before tossing you onto Sven's back. As you neared the cliff's edge, he shouted and cut the rope tying the reindeer to the sled. "Jump, Sven!"

After landing dangerously close to the mountain's edge, San's sled lay in ruins below, and he muttered something about just having paid it off. The narrow escape from death weighed heavily on you, especially when you saw him lying on the ground, an arm thrown over his eyes in sheer exhaustion. He was so done.

"I-I'll replace your sled and everything in it," you mumbled, guilt creeping into your voice. "And... I get it if you don't want to help me anymore." With a heavy sigh, you turned and started walking away, your heart sinking. Of course, he wouldn't want to stick around now. You'd caused him nothing but trouble, and he hadn't even volunteered to come with you—it was all your fault.

San groaned in frustration, his reindeer nudging him persistently, nodding toward your retreating, disheartened figure. "Of course, I don't want to help her anymore," he grumbled, sitting up. "This whole mess has cured me of ever helping anyone again."

"She'll die out there on her own," Sven's eyes seemed to say.

"I can live with that," San muttered, though his voice lacked confidence.

"But no new sled if she's dead!" The silent reasoning gnawed at him.

He slumped, casting an irritated glare at Sven. "Sometimes, I really don't like you." But as he heard you stumbling and fumbling your way through the snow, likely still trying to reach your sister, he rolled his eyes in dramatic defeat before shouting, "Hold up! We're coming!"

You turned around, your face lighting up before playing it off coolly. "You are? I mean... sure, you can tag along."

He chuckled, shaking his head, though he couldn't quite hide the smile tugging at his lips. Maybe, just maybe, he found you... kind of adorable. In fact, you were probably the most adorable person he'd ever met, if he were being honest. Not that you needed to know that. Hans was a lucky guy... maybe.

⁞

As the journey dragged on, San found himself increasingly drawn to you in ways he hadn't anticipated. He had written you off as reckless, even naïve. But the more time he spent by your side, the more he found himself softening.

It began with the small things—your silly jokes, the way you smiled at him even in the direst of situations, and the surprising concern you showed for his struggling ice business, despite the weight of your own problems. A part of him tried to deny it, chalking up his protectiveness to simply being a decent person. Yet, as the days went on, the truth became harder to ignore, especially as you started to weaken.

The first time he truly noticed was when you faltered, clutching your chest as the icy curse gripped you. His heart clenched painfully at the sight of you, pale and fragile in a way that scared him. At first, he didn't understand what was happening—until he saw the streaks of white creeping into your hair. His stomach twisted in fear as he watched you shiver uncontrollably.

San tried to fight it at first, keeping his feelings hidden behind casual smiles and forced reassurances. He'd wrap you in his cloak, telling himself that he was just looking out for you like anyone else would. But inside, he was terrified. Each time you winced or stumbled, the protective instinct inside him flared, and it became harder to ignore. He wanted to hold you, to keep you safe, but he told himself that keeping his distance was for the best.

Until it wasn't.

After watching you grow weaker, he couldn't stand it any longer. You were so cold, so frail, barely able to keep yourself upright. Your hair had turned almost entirely white, and the violent shivering never stopped. When you could no longer walk on your own, San didn't care anymore. He scooped you into his arms without hesitation, cradling your fragile body against his chest. Your icy fingers clung weakly to his sleeve, barely able to hold on.

Perhaps the trolls had been right. Maybe what you needed was true love's kiss. The thought sent a wave of fear through him, not because he doubted it, but because he wanted it to be him. Holding you close, trembling as he tried to keep you warm, he swallowed hard, fighting back the lump in his throat.

"We've got to get you back to Hans," he whispered, though the name felt like a sharp blade twisting in his chest.

"A-are you g-gonna be okay?" you asked, voice weak and trembling as you struggled to stay conscious. Your eyes fluttered open, full of worry, and San's heart ached even more.

He forced a smile, though the pain in his chest was undeniable. "Don't worry about me," he said, though the crack in his voice betrayed him. He couldn't tell you the truth—that the very thought of giving you to Hans was tearing him apart.

⁞

As he left the castle gates, his arms now empty without your fragile form, the weight of his feelings bore down on him, suffocating. Even Sven could sense it. His reindeer nudged him softly, as if to say, you can't let her go.

San clenched his jaw, shaking his head at the reindeer's knowing gaze. "No, Sven! We're not going back! She's with her true love."

But none of that mattered the moment he noticed the fierce snowstorm suddenly engulfing Arendelle. His eyes widened with panic as he realised something was terribly wrong. Without a second thought, he sprinted back toward the castle, his heart racing, your name ripping from his throat as he shouted through the howling winds.

Snow and ice whipped through the air, blinding San as he fought against the wind, desperately searching for you. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat louder than the roar of the storm. Then, through the blizzard, he saw you—a frail figure swaying weakly amidst the violent storm.

His breath hitched, a strangled cry escaping him as he realised how dire your condition was. Your hair was completely white, and your skin had started to turn into a translucent blue, as if turning to ice. Panic surged through him, and without hesitation, he dashed toward you, every muscle in his body straining against the storm.

You took tiny, shaky steps towards him, your voice barely audible above the howling wind. "San..." The way you uttered his name sent a jolt through him, a painful reminder of just how close he was to losing you. He pushed himself harder, the distance between you seeming to stretch endlessly.

"Hold on!" he shouted, though he wasn't sure if you could hear him over the storm. He could see the effort it took for you to move, each step a struggle against the encroaching ice.

Just when he thought he might finally reach you, you changed direction abruptly. His heart stopped as he watched you rush towards your sister, trying to protect her from Hans. The realisation hit him like a thunderclap: in your attempt to shield your sister, you were sacrificing yourself.

He watched in horror as you turned completely into ice, your form crystallising before his eyes. The storm seemed to quiet for a moment, a heavy silence descending as you stood there, frozen.

Desperation clawed at him, and he fought through the storm to reach you. When you returned to your normal state, he was already there, cradling you in his arms. He refused to be a coward again, not after everything you had been through. The fear of losing you was unbearable, and he was determined not to let go.

Holding you close, he buried his face in your hair, breathing in your warmth, feeling your heartbeat against his chest. "I'm not letting you go," he whispered fiercely, his voice breaking with emotion. "Not now, not ever. If you'll let me, I'll hold you close forever."

His heart ached as he clung to you, the world around him fading into insignificance. The storm may have raged on, but in that moment, all that mattered was you.

Mingi ↠ Flynn Rider (Tangled)

• Charm • Wit • Adventurous •

"Is this… hair?" Mingi croaked in confusion as his eyes fluttered open to the unexpected realisation that he was tied up. The last thing he remembered was climbing up a tower hidden in the forest to escape from the royal guards and the Stabbington brothers.

"Struggling…" came a feminine voice from somewhere in the shadows. "Struggling is pointless."

He furrowed his brows. "Huh?"

"I know why you're here, and I'm not afraid of you," you said, gripping your frying pan tightly as you slowly emerged from your corner and finally stepped into the light.

Oh me, oh my. What do we have here?

The intruder looked genuinely confused as he took a moment to register your appearance. You were a sight to behold, that much was undeniable, but you were also threatening him with a kitchen tool, and truthfully, he wasn't very into that.

"Who are you and how did you find me?" you asked, glaring at him.

But man, were you beautiful.

"Uh huh…" was all he could muster.

Frustrated, you repeated yourself, raising your weapon higher. "Who are you and how did you find me?"

Clearing his throat, he began his rehearsed speech for situations like this. He had yet to meet any lady who wouldn't fall for his charms. As much as he would love to hang around, he had more important things to do. "I know not who you are nor how I came to find you, but may I just say…" He looked down momentarily, then met your gaze again with a rather... questionable expression. "Hi. How you doin'? The name's Flynn Rider. How's your day goin', huh?"

To his surprise, your hostility persisted. "Who else knows my location?" you demanded, aiming the pan at him.

Man, how did the smoulder not work?

⁞

Mingi let out a long sigh, staring ahead in exasperation as you ran circles around him with boundless enthusiasm. Lord, how did he get himself into this? He was stuck in this ridiculous situation because he needed the crown he had just stolen from the palace. The deal was simple: he would take you to see the lanterns and bring you back.

But he had no time for that.

Determined to avoid the whole ordeal, he hatched a foolproof plan. He would take you to the Snuggly Duckling, a tavern with a motley crew of thugs and ruffians. Surely that would scare you off.

As you twirled around, he muttered under his breath, "This is going to work. It has to work."

You paused mid-spin. "Did you say something?"

"Nothing!" he replied, forcing a smile. "Just… thinking about how much fun we're going to have."

He let out a sigh of relief as the Snuggly Duckling came into view. He couldn't help but grin at the look of horror that flashed across your face when you saw the rowdy tavern. This was going perfectly.

"You don't look so good, blondie. Maybe we should get you home, call it a day. This is a five-star joint, after all. If you can't handle this place, maybe you should be back in your tower," he said, trying to sound sympathetic while suppressing a smirk.

Just as he thought his plan was working, Mingi cursed under his breath as the main door slammed shut, and a burly man pressed a "Wanted" poster of him against it.

"Is this you?" the man growled, squinting at the poster.

Crap, crap, crap. This is not good.

The thief's eyes widened in dread as he moved the man's finger off the painting of his nose. His heart sank even further. They had gotten his nose wrong... again.

"Now they're just being mean," he muttered to himself, more upset about the artistic injustice than the actual danger he was in.

⁞

The last thing Mingi expected happened. As the thugs closed in, you suddenly began to sing a silly little song about having a dream. At first, he stared at you in disbelief, but then something miraculous happened. The roughest and toughest of the bunch started to join in, swayed by your infectious innocence and charm.

A reluctant smile soon spread across his face. As impractical as it seemed, your innocence had saved you both. "I can't believe that worked," he muttered, watching the formerly hostile crowd now swaying together harmoniously.

But the relief was short-lived.

The doors burst open, and royal guards flooded the tavern. "There he is!" one of the guards shouted.

"Time to go!" He grabbed your hand, pulling you towards a hidden exit. The chase led you to a dangerous cave, the sound of the guards echoing behind you.

The thief's adventurous spirit shone brightly as he led you through perilous situations, always thinking on his feet and embracing the thrill. He expertly navigated the cave, his confidence never wavering even as the path grew treacherous.

But things took a dire turn when the cave began to collapse. Rocks tumbled down, trapping you both under the debris. Water started to fill the cave, and panic set in. Despite his fear, he remained focused. He pulled you out of the water when you dipped back under, refusing to let you drown.

"Hey, there's no point. It's pitch-black down there," he said, gently moving some hair out of your face, his eyes filled with a rare vulnerability.

You felt a pang of guilt as you saw the hopelessness in his expression. "This is all my fault," you whimpered. "Mother was right. I never should have done this. I'm so sorry, Flynn," you cried.

He sighed, gazing at you sobbing pitifully before whispering, "Mingi."

"What?" you turned to look at him, confused.

"My real name is Song Mingi. Someone might as well know."

You smiled softly through your tears. "I have magical hair that glows when I sing."

His eyes widened in exasperation. "What?"

⁞

Just as he thought he couldn't possibly be more amazed, his admiration and affection for you only grew. He watched in awe as you healed his injury with your glowing hair, the pain ebbing away under your touch. Listening to your story, he saw the depth of your courage and determination, traits he deeply admired.

For the first time in his life, Mingi felt comfortable enough to open up about himself. He let down all the walls he had built over the years, sharing his dreams, fears, and the loneliness that had always shadowed him. Something had changed since then, and neither of you had been more certain about your feelings for each other than on the night of your birthday.

He had kept his promise and taken you to see the lanterns. As you both floated on the water, surrounded by the magical glow of thousands of lanterns, he realised that seeing you happy meant more to him than the riches he had dreamed about for so long. This moment, this connection, you—mattered more than anything.

The thief realised that none of the money or recognition would ever mean anything if it meant being without you. Perhaps Flynn Rider was so much more than just a witty and adventurous prince; he was also a romantic at heart. This truth became painfully clear as he prepared to sacrifice his own life to free you, the love of his life, from the clutches of your kidnapper.

On the verge of his own death, he made a heartbreaking decision. He would rather cut your hair, stripping it of its magical properties before you could save him, than allow Mother Gothel to use you any further. With a swift motion, he severed your once-blonde hair, watching as it returned to its original colour.

"Mingi!" you cried, watching in despair as the magic faded. You pulled him into your arms, cradling his face. "No, no, no. Mingi," you pleaded desperately. "Look at me. I'm right here. Don't go. Stay with me."

He smiled weakly, his strength fading. He cupped your face with a trembling hand. "You were my new dream."

Your heart shattered as tears streamed down your cheeks. His hand fell limp beside him, his eyes closing as his life slipped away.

"And you were mine," you whispered, your voice breaking as you held him close, the pain of losing him overwhelming.

⁞

But things took a miraculous turn. Your magic, which had always been tied to your hair, still remained in the essence of your tears. As you cried over him, a single tear fell onto his face, glowing brightly before seeping into his skin.

Suddenly, his breath hitched, and his eyes fluttered open. Life returned to him as the magic worked its way through his body. You gasped, pulling him closer, barely able to believe what was happening.

"Mingi!" you exclaimed, joy and relief flooding your heart.

He looked at you, his eyes filled with wonder and gratitude. "You're magic," he whispered, holding you tightly. Without another word, he pressed his lips firmly against yours, pouring all his love and thankfulness into the kiss.

As he held you close, he silently thanked the heavens for granting him a second chance at life. He vowed to start over and be a better person for his princess. At that moment, everything felt right, and he knew that his new life with you would be the greatest adventure of all.

Wooyoung ↠ Aladdin (Aladdin)

• Energetic • Street-smart • Charismatic •

"Hey! You there, stealing from my brother!" the merchant barked through the bustling market as you handed two starving children the bread you had taken.

You blinked, caught off guard. "Stealing? No, I—"

"You either pay, or I take the bracelet," he sneered, his hand reaching for your mother's bracelet clasped around your wrist. "Let go of me!" you cried, struggling in his grip.

Before the situation could escalate, someone swooped in and pulled you free, placing you protectively behind him. "Easy, Jamal," the young man said calmly, trying to diffuse the situation. But the merchant only glared at you. "Kalil turns his back for a moment, and this one," he jabbed a finger toward you, "steals the bread!"

You huffed in frustration. "Those children were starving!"

The young man sighed, turning to you and lowering his voice. "Do you have any money?" You shook your head. He smiled softly, then gripped your bracelet. "Okay, trust me." Something in his gaze made you feel secure, so you did—against all odds, you trusted him.

You watched in disbelief as he removed your bracelet and handed it over to the merchant. "Here, this is what you wanted, right?"

The merchant grinned, satisfied. "Yeah, thank you!"

"And here's an apple, for your troubles," the young man added with a grin, tossing the merchant a fruit before quickly pulling you away, ignoring your protests. "Hey! I'm not leaving without my bracelet!"

He pulled you closer as you hurried through the market. "You mean this bracelet?" he murmured, revealing the very same bracelet in his hand. Instantly, your worry melted. "Come on."

As you both moved, you suddenly heard the merchant shout behind you, "Wooyoung! Jung Wooyoung! Thief!"

You turned, your breath catching. "Are we in trouble?" you asked. He smirked, his confidence unwavering.

"Only if we get caught."

⁞

"I can't believe..." you trailed off, staring at the breathtaking view from his balcony. "I can't believe we actually did that. That I did that. That we made it out alive!" you exclaimed, still reeling from the intense chase that had led you here. You couldn't shake the memory of him holding your hands, guiding you to safety.

"Thank you... for getting me out of there. Wooyoung, right?" you smiled bashfully, and he rubbed the back of his neck, a little shy. "You're welcome..." he gestured toward you, waiting for your name.

You froze for a split second. "I... I'm Dalia," you blurted out, using your handmaid's name as a cover. No one could know your true identity—not even him.

"Dalia... from the palace," he said, his tone more knowing than surprised. You stayed silent, your back to him. How did he— "Only someone from the palace could afford a bracelet like that," he continued. "And that silk? It's imported, comes straight to the palace from the merchant ships. But not for most servants, which means... you're the handmaid to the princess."

You sighed, finally turning to meet his eyes, a small smile on your lips. "Impressive."

"If you think that's impressive, you should see the city from up there," he said, pointing to the second floor of his humble home. You didn't need to be told twice and eagerly headed up. "Agrabah... it's beautiful. I really should get out more."

He chuckled. "You should tell the princess that." Your smile faded slowly. "The people haven't seen her in years."

Your fists clenched slightly. "They won't let her. Ever since... the queen was killed, the sultan's been terrified. She's kept locked away."

He looked down, a touch of sadness in his voice. "Seems like everyone's been living in fear since then. But the people of Agrabah loved her. The queen."

Your heart warmed at his words. "They did, didn't they?"

As the conversation shifted to his past, you were saddened to learn of the hardships he had endured. He sighed deeply. "Every day I hope things will change, but it never seems to. Sometimes, I feel like I'm just..."

"Trapped," you finished for him, your voice soft. "Like you can't escape what you were born into?" He nodded, meeting your gaze. For a moment, you thought you could trust him. But that hope wavered when he struggled to return your bracelet at your departure.

"So you are a thief," you said, your voice tinged with disappointment. "I'm so naive."

⁞

"But Dalia, I was born for more than just marrying some useless prince!" you argued after meeting yet another potential suitor from Skanland that afternoon.

Your handmaid sighed. "If you had to marry a useless prince, you could certainly do worse than this one. He's tall, handsome, and yes, a bit dim, but it's just a marriage. Although, I suspect you'd rather marry that boy from the market," she finished, and you scoffed.

As she went off to prepare your bath, there was a knock at your door. With a frown, you opened it. "Can I help you?" you asked, and the person turned around. Your eyes widened in shock. "You? You! What are you doing here? Get in here!"

Wooyoung smirked. "I came to return your bracelet."

"My bracelet? Where is it?"

"On your wrist," he replied, and you gasped, glancing down to see it securely in place. "Wait, how did you get past the guards?" you asked in disbelief.

He grinned mischievously. "That was tricky, but I have my ways. While the princess is out, how about a stroll? We can chat."

You crossed your arms, half-irritated, half-amused. "You are unbelievable," you muttered, annoyed at his audacity but even more so at how attractive he was. "You can't just break into the palace and act like you own the place!"

"If you don't have anything, you've got to act like you own everything," he shrugged, flashing a grin. You stared at him, realising you'd never met anyone like him—because no one was like him. "So, what do you say?"

"No! You need to leave, now!" you insisted, pushing him toward the door.

"Fine, but I'm coming back tomorrow," he said confidently. "Meet me in the courtyard by the fountain when the moon is above the minaret." He gestured behind him, and before you could react, he removed your hair clip, waving it teasingly. "To return this."

Your breath caught when he leaned closer, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His voice was a whisper. "I promise." Perhaps you were a fool; you should have known better than to believe him.

⁞

The next time you saw him, you barely recognised him, thanks to the Genie's magic. He was now Prince Young of Wonderland—a clumsy prince who seemed to be trying to "buy" you with his riches, or at least that was what he said, as he awkwardly stumbled over his words. His first impression was far from impressive, and despite his best efforts, nothing he did seemed to win you over.

After countless failed attempts, he finally realised what he needed to do: just be himself. "There's a whole world beyond these books and maps. You should see it."

"How? Every door is guarded," you replied, a bit wistful.

"Who said anything about a door? Sometimes, princess, you just have to take a risk," he said with a grin before climbing over your balcony and leaping off. You gasped, your hands flying to your mouth, heart in your throat. "What just happened?"

Moments later, he reappeared on a floating carpet. You sighed in relief. "Is this…?"

"A magic carpet? Yes," he smirked, offering his hand. "Do you trust me?" Your heart skipped a beat as those words echoed something familiar. "What did you say?" you croaked. He repeated, his eyes steady on yours. "Do you trust me?"

You hesitated before nodding and placing your hand in his. "Yes."

As the carpet soared over a village, you watched the people below celebrating around a fire. You smiled as the prince draped his coat around your shoulders. "Of all the places you've shown me, this is the most beautiful."

"Sometimes, you just have to see it from a different perspective," he replied. You shook your head gently. "No, it's them—the people. They make it beautiful. And they deserve a leader who understands that. I don't know why I think it could be me."

He turned to you, his expression sincere. "Because it should be you."

"Do you really think so?" you asked softly. He reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, and for a moment, you froze. Only one other person had done that before—

"Does it matter what I think?" he asked, breaking the spell.

By the end of the night, you learned he was who you had suspected all along, though you were now convinced he had been a prince from the start. Wooyoung, caught up in the joy of the moment, kissed you goodnight, only to later drown in constant guilt and worry that the lie he was still hiding could ruin everything.

⁞

But none of that mattered when you discovered it had all been a lie. Even caught up in the battle against Jafar, Wooyoung was still the one you trusted most. And you knew you were right to trust him because, despite the difficult situation, he chose to return to your side and protect you. His actions proved his genuine care for you.

Your feelings for him deepened when he made his third and final wish. Instead of using it to abolish the law that required the princess to marry royalty, he selflessly used it to free the Genie.

"You shall be the next sultan," your father said. "As sultan, you can change the law." He gestured to where Wooyoung had stood moments earlier, but now he was gone. Your heart sank, and your father gently nudged you. "Go after him before it's too late."

And you did just that.

Breathless, you found him only a few steps outside the palace, your hair clip still in his hands. "Stop, thief! Your sultan commands it!" you called after him, your tone teasing.

He turned, biting his lip and holding up the clip. "Sultan? Does that mean I'm in trouble?"

Your heart fluttered at those familiar words. With a smile, you approached him. "Only because you got caught," you whispered before kissing him. The crowd around you erupted in cheers as he pulled you close, returning your kiss with equal passion. At that moment, he realised his wish had come true after all.

Jongho ↠ Prince Eric (Little Mermaid)

• Kind-hearted • Brave • Dependable •

"Max! Come here, boy," the man on board called out to his dog, who had momentarily been distracted by your presence near the side of the ship. Your eyes widened as you took in his striking features—he was human. You'd never seen one this closely before.

Carefully staying hidden, you continued to watch as an elderly man stepped forward to quiet the crew. "Silence, silence. It is now my honour and privilege to present our esteemed Prince Jongho with a very special, very expensive, and very large birthday present," he announced, gesturing toward a massive object draped in cloth at the center of the ship.

"Ah, Grimsby, you old beanpole, you shouldn't have," said the handsome man, whose name you now know to be Jongho and that he was... a prince.

The old man smiled bashfully. "I know. Happy birthday, Jongho." With that, the cloth was pulled away to reveal a heroic statue of the prince. Instead of reacting as Grimsby had likely hoped, the prince grimaced slightly. "Uh, gee, Grim..." he cleared his throat awkwardly. "It's, uh... really something..."

"Yes, I commissioned it myself. I had hoped it would be a wedding gift." Grimsby's tone was hopeful, but Jongho just chuckled. "Come on, Grim. Don't start. You're not still upset that I didn't fall for the Princess of Glowerhaven, are you?"

"Oh my, it's not just me. The entire kingdom wants to see you happily settled down with the right girl."

Jongho smiled, leaning against the railing. "Well, she's out there somewhere. I just... haven't found her yet. But trust me, Grim, when I do, I'll know. It'll hit me, like lightning—no question about it."

Your heart fluttered as you listened from just below. You'd never felt this way about any merman, but you wanted to be that girl for him. He seemed so near, yet impossibly far at the same time.

⁞

Perhaps he shouldn't have said those words—maybe he jinxed it. What started as a cheerful celebration turned into chaos within seconds, as lightning struck and set the ship ablaze.

You watched anxiously from the sidelines, praying he'd be alright. But your heart sank when you saw him dive back into the ocean from a lifeboat, only to return to the ship to save his dog. Though he managed to rescue the pet, he put himself in grave danger, trapped as the ship exploded. Gasping, you swam toward him, just in time to see him weakly cling to a plank before slipping into the water.

Without hesitation, you dove in, gripping his larger frame and fighting through the waves to bring him to the surface. With sheer determination, you swam to shore, finally laying him on the sand as the sun began to rise.

"Thank goodness, he's still breathing. He's... beautiful," you whispered, gently brushing his wet hair and caressing his cheek. As you sang softly, a familiar tune you'd often hum when dreaming of life on land and now... of him, you saw his eyes flutter open. He smiled at you, placing his hand over yours.

Before you could say a word, you heard Grimsby's voice echo along the beach. In a flash, you were gone before Jongho could fully grasp what had happened.

"Jongho! Oh, Jongho! You really enjoy testing my poor heart, don't you?" the old man grumbled, helping him up.

"A girl... she saved me. She was singing... with the most beautiful voice," the prince murmured dreamily, his eyes still scanning the horizon. Grimsby chuckled. "Ah, Jongho, I believe you've swallowed a bit too much seawater."

You watched from afar, your heart aching as they walked away. Did he feel the same way you did? Was this... love? Because you missed him already.

⁞

Humming the melody that had lingered in his mind ever since you rescued him, Jongho was interrupted by the sudden arrival of his dog. Max sprinted across the sandy beach, barking and leaping excitedly at his owner. "What's up, boy?"

The dog darted forward, and without hesitation, he chased after him. You gasped when Max ran up to you, quickly scooting back onto a rock to keep your distance from the unfamiliar animal.

"Max? What's gotten into you?" the prince's voice called out as he appeared, just in time to see his dog circling you. His breath caught when his eyes landed on you. "Oh... I see."

"Are you alright, miss?" he asked softly, stepping closer. "I'm sorry if this troublemaker scared you. He's harmless, I swear..." His voice trailed off as he looked from his dog to meet your eyes. "You look... familiar. Have we met before?"

You nodded immediately, a beaming smile lighting up your face.

"It's you, isn't it? The one I've been searching for," he murmured, gently taking your hands in his. "What's your name?"

But when you opened your mouth to speak, no sound came out. That's when it hit you—you had given your voice to Ursula in exchange for legs, and now had only three days for Jongho to kiss you with true love's kiss, or else you'd belong to the sea witch for an eternity.

"What's wrong?" he asked, concerned. You pointed to your throat, shaking your head. "You can't speak? Oh..." His expression fell. "Then you can't be the girl I thought..."

Frustrated, you frantically waved your hands, trying to show him that you were the one. In your desperate movements, you lost your balance and stumbled forward—right into his strong arms.

"Woah, careful!" he said, holding you close to steady you.

For a moment, the world seemed to freeze as the two of you stood still, his arms wrapped securely around your waist while your hands clung to his shoulders. He gazed into your eyes, his expression softening. "You've been through something, haven't you? Don't worry—I'll help you."

⁞

Despite finding your quirks a bit odd, Jongho couldn't help but be charmed by your playful nature. On top of that, you were easily one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. He had noticed it when he first met you, but after the maids had cleaned you up and dressed you like a princess, he could barely tear his eyes away. For a moment, he even forgot about the girl he had been searching for, now looking forward to spending the next day showing you around town.

Time flew by, and your second day on land seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. You wandered through the streets together, hands intertwined, sharing meals, dancing, and laughing. Each moment felt magical, filled with heart-fluttering closeness that made it feel like the two of you were already a couple. It was the best day of your life, a world apart from anything you'd ever known. It would've been perfect—if only he would just kiss you.

But there was still time, and you held on to hope. That evening, he took you on a romantic boat ride, and it felt like the moment was finally about to happen. He leaned in a few times, but each time, he hesitated, as if reminding himself you weren’t the one he thought he was looking for. Your heart sank with every pause. Still, after learning your name and feeling a deeper connection, he came so close...

Close enough for Ursula to interfere.

That night, he stood outside, looking melancholy as he hummed the same song that had haunted him since he was rescued. "Jongho, if I may," Grimsby said gently, approaching him. "Sometimes, the best match isn't a dream girl, but someone of flesh and blood—someone warm, caring, and right before your eyes," he suggested, gesturing toward your room, where you were absentmindedly brushing your hair with a fork once again.

Jongho chuckled softly, shaking his head at your antics. Perhaps Grimsby was right. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if you weren't the girl he had been searching for... after all, you made him happy. But before he could think further, a woman named Vanessa appeared, casting him under a spell that blinded him to everything—especially you.

⁞

Wiping away your tears, you knew you had to find a way to get to him. Your heart was shattered when you heard he was marrying another woman, but deep down, you should have known something was off. Of course, it was the sea witch and her wicked schemes.

Thankfully, Max, the loyal dog, seemed just as frustrated with Vanessa as you were. He aggressively tugged at her dress, refusing to leave her alone. In the chaos, her seashell necklace—the one that held your voice—fell to the ground and shattered. At last, the spell was broken, and you could speak again. The moment Jongho heard your voice, recognition filled his eyes. "You're the one. It was you... all along."

You nodded, your voice trembling with emotion. "Yes, Jongho. I've been trying to tell you."

"No! Stay away from her!" Vanessa screamed, but the prince ignored her, pulling you close and leaning in to kiss you. Before he could, you gasped, falling to the ground as your legs transformed back into a tail. Ursula's wicked laughter echoed as she returned to her true form, slithering towards you and grabbing hold. "So long, lover boy," she hissed.

His heart nearly stopped as he watched the witch drag you into the depths of the sea. But he wasn't about to lose you again. This time, he would fight with everything he had to save you.

And he did. The battle was fierce and exhausting, but he remained determined. Jongho cleverly commandeered a ship and steered it straight into Ursula, risking everything to put an end to her reign of terror.

Even in his exhaustion, he didn't rest until he found you. This time, you had legs—real, permanent ones—granted by your father after seeing the love you shared. And when he finally reached you, he pulled you close, refusing to let go. "I'm sorry I made you wait so long, but I'm yours now if you'll have me."

I'm aware the format for each story is kinda inconsistent HAHA but that's because this has been in the works for a while now, and the time taken to finish these one by one was long enough for me to develop a new style for nearly every story when I get to them.

Not sure if this was any good. While proofreading, I realised there's a chance this might not make much sense for readers who have not watched these movies. But y'all, let me know your thoughts! <3

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@bunny4yungi

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[hareofhrair]

I wanted to put this one the previous post but it was long and this is a tangent but- In regards to the hypothetical "If House was my doctor I'd just tell him everything. Rip to all his other patients but I'm different."

The whole point of the show is that you wouldn't. Like a major theme of the show is about how the various shames and stigmas and habitual dishonesties that plague our societies both metaphorically and literally kill us. "Everybody lies" isn't just a cynical catchphrase, it's the shows thesis. Because of how we operate as a society, everyone feels compelled to suppress and hide things and that inevitably leads to suffering.

And there are plenty of episodes where this is obvious, ie "I cheated on my partner and gave them an STD." But there's also much more of "This little girl went through early puberty and because of the way our society stigmatizes women's bodies her single father never discussed puberty with her and she was so afraid and ashamed of her new pubic hair that she tried to shave it without telling anyone and mutilated herself, leading everyone to think she'd been abused and throwing off the whole case until House figured out her hormones were going crazy because she'd been exposed to her father's low T medicine, which he hid because of how our society regards masculinity, which he started taking because he began dating a younger woman (because of shame stemming from our society's unrealistic expectations wrt sex in relationships) which he was hiding from his kids, because of shame regarding our societies toxic views on monogamy."

A particular episode stands out as a really good example. S06E15 "Private Lives," which aired in 2010 but was fairly prescient about where social media was heading. The patient was a blogger who documented literally every moment of every day for her followers. She made it very clear she left *nothing* out, from her and her boyfriend's sex life to, eventually, asking for feedback from her followers on whether to get her heart valve replaced with one from a pig or a "vegan" plastic one. She handed the whole blog over to House as soon as he took the case and the team poured through the whole thing. Surely this is proof you're wrong about everybody lying, the team says to House. She's give us her whole life and you still can't find out what's wrong! Spoiler, it turned out the crucial symptom that allowed House to put it all together? Was the one thing she *didn't* include in the blog- Her bowel movements. Shame and stigma around talking about *poop* nearly killed this woman. It was also a detail that should have been picked up immediately by a normal doctor, who would have asked about her bowel movements as part of the standard checklist of diagnostic questions. But this woman was so confident that she'd laid out every relevant detail of her life in her blog, she wouldn't answer those questions, obfuscating what she was actually ashamed of underneath a pile of curated, rationalized, narritivized junk she could pretend was proof of a lack of shame and not simply a skill at creative writing.

When I say "I'd just tell House everything" is ridiculous, I don't just mean "well, because of the way the show works, you HAVE to be hiding SOMETHING." I mean literally, you- because you are a human being- are ashamed of *something.* And because you are a human being, the more info you try to give House the more deeply you will bury whatever it is you're actually ashamed of. And, because of the way the show works, that *will* end up being the key to what's making you sick.

[valsverse]

‼️ MY EXPERIENCE WITH @girlkisser13

🚨 HARASSMENT & PLAGIARISM 🚨

i want to address a serious issue that has recently come to light regarding a user in the fanfiction community (@girlkisser13) with a concerning history of plagiarism and ongoing harassment. this situation involves not just the act of stealing someone else's work but also a troubling pattern of aggressive behavior that has surfaced, indicating a lack of accountability and growth. it’s crucial for us writers and fans to stand together against such actions to maintain a supportive and respectful community for all creators. with that being said, read below. transparency is key, so i want to share the full context of this situation, including all relevant screenshots. underlined words/sentences include links to posts that are relevant to the incident, so i encourage you to check them out. (if you've recently received a message from an anonymous user about this situation, click here)

SECTION 1 : The Original Plagiarism Incident + Backstory

on june 3, 2023, i was notified by an anonymous user in my inbox that an account called girlkisser14 (now known as girlkisser13 after deactivating her old account) was plagiarizing my work. she repeatedly lifted sections of my writings and headcanons, merging them into her own posts. (note that i pretty much exclusively write for the percy jackson fandom.) after reaching out to her privately i discovered that i could no longer view her posts. at first, i thought she had taken her account down, but it turned out she had just blocked me. by june 5, 2023, i decided to create a post detailing the situation, which you can read here. shortly after, she contacted me, and we managed to come to a resolution. it seemed like a good opportunity for her to acknowledge her mistakes and learn from them. i updated my original post to reflect that the issue had been resolved. later on, she messaged me saying she couldn’t cope with the backlash. while i’m unsure if she was genuinely receiving hate, i felt sympathy for her situation. she asked me to take down the post, but i declined as accountability is important to me and i didn't feel comfortable with just erasing history. soon after, she deactivated her account.

although she deactivated her original account, she shortly after created a new one. i was notified by a different anon about this because her posts were moved to the new account, and some still included my work—presumably by accident. from that point on, she became known as girlkisser13, which can be confusing given her original username was girlkisser14. initially, she missed a few paragraphs of my work, as mentioned earlier, which prompted me to make a post about it (as seen in screenshot 2). however, she reached out to me, and we clarified everything through direct messages. after that, all seemed well!

however, things would get much worse from here. (this main character ahh dialogue bro.. 💀)

SECTION 2 : Account Tries a New Persona, Still Fails at Not Harassing Me.

(september 21st, 2024) an anonymous account messaged me with the following:

to be honest, i was completely baffled. i had completely forgotten about this issue, and out of nowhere, someone decides to bring it back up. it struck me as strange because… who gets so personal over something like this?

the user, which goes by the handle 'multifandombisexual13' also sent the exact same message directly to me, which made it clear that the anonymous message came from them, as shown.

first of all, the usernames are incredibly similar. both have the number 13, and girlkisser13 is a multifandom account. if you look at their profile, you'll notice they only repost stories from girlkisser13. even on the "check out these accounts" sidebar, there's only one account listed: girlkisser13. this is because they only repost content from that account.

let’s be real—this isn’t the behavior of a genuine fan. who goes through that much trouble? it’s obvious that this is girlkisser13 under an alternate handle.

i raised these concerns with the user, and i made sure to respond in a civil manner.

they didn’t respond to my initial message and only replied after I reached out to girlkisser13. i sent her a message about this situation. (just to be clear, this user and girlkisser13 are the same person.)

the user then responded at 4:38 PM. note that her main account, girlkisser13, replied to my message at 4:42 PM. (less than 5 minutes apart.) classic. (dates and times are included right under the text.)

if it wasn’t obvious by now, this person has been harassing me from their alt while pretending to be an innocent bystander on their main account. it’s like they’re playing both sides—using one account to send nasty messages and the other to act like they have no clue what’s going on. it’s honestly ridiculous and kind of sad at this point. (you will most likely have to zoom in to read the screenshots.)

you get the idea: this account goes off on personal jabs, claiming i have some need for control and a massive ego just because i refused to take the post down. i defended myself (obviously), but then she decided to accuse me of being jealous. (???)

i’ve made it clear SO many times—the post stays up for accountability. but no, she’s built up this entire fictional scenario where i’m obsessed with who’s getting more notes or attention. i promise you, i literally could not care less.

every single message is her droning on about “jealousy” or my supposed "ego and control issues," but never once acknowledging the actual point. it’s about holding people accountable for their actions. this isn’t a competition or a takedown—it's about transparency and honesty in the community. and to try and reduce it to some petty jealousy battle? that’s honestly ridiculous and completely out of touch.

like, she’s sitting there imagining i’m losing sleep over someone’s follower count on tumblr of all places. does she even realize how absurd that sounds? i'm a high school student who posts fanfic maybe once a month in a small fandom. tumblr is not my life, and there's definitely nothing here for me to be jealous of.

i don’t care how well someone is doing, i care about transparency and keeping things honest in the community. now, let’s address the obvious here. it’s super weird for another account to be going so hard defending a situation they supposedly have no part in. like, who does that? no one would go to these lengths unless they were personally connected, right? i brought up this whole issue in these screenshots below:

funny how they only stopped harassing me once i mentioned, at the end of my paragraph, that i’d happily make this public. up until that point, it was nonstop. i kept pressing them on whether they were connected to girlkisser13 (and if you somehow forgot—yes, this account and girlkisser13 are the exact same person). it was obvious, but i just wanted them to admit it.

it was around this time that i decided to message her main account, girlkisser13, to clear things up. i figured it was best to go straight to the source and get some clarification, but of course, things only got more suspicious from there.

SECTION 3: Ongoing harassment just a heads-up to pay attention to the account names at the top so you know who I'm messaging.

i like how i don't even have to comment on this part lmao. i sent the situation to girlkisser13 at 11:01 PM, and then at 11:39 PM, their other account decides to confront me about it.

anyways, i tried to get some honest answers from girlkisser13, but it was all just denial. at the very least, i asked her to reach out to the "other user" to stop the harassment.

at this point, girlkisser13 decided to backtrack and throw in an apology. i mean, i still firmly believed they were the same person, but honestly? i was just so exhausted from the whole ordeal that i thought, “whatever, let’s just agree and move on.”

SECTION 4: The Slip Up: GirlKisser13's Attempt at Damage Control

almost immediately after the conversation shown before, i received 13 messages TOTAL in my inbox, all in rapid succession, so obviously, they were all from the same person. i won't show them all because they're essentially the same. each one harassed me about my plagiarism post still being up, mentioning girlkisser13, and accusing me of jealousy in the same short, lowercase writing style. i brought this issue up to girlkisser13.

the first slip-up happened when I received a message from her alternate account, multifandombisexual13. up until that point, all the messages had come through anonymously, but it seems she forgot to enable the anonymous option this time.

shortly after, i got a message in the same style from her main account, girlkisser13. need i say more?

so, naturally, i sent the screenshot over to her main account, just to see what she'd say. and what did i get in return? excuse after excuse. it was honestly kind of impressive how quickly she could come up with new stories to cover her tracks. each response was more outlandish than the last, trying to justify what was blatantly obvious.

my brother sent that message!" yes—because your brother just happens to have access to your account. yes, because your brother happens to also be on tumblr, spending his time catching up on the latest percy jackson fanfiction drama... 💀 the sheer absurdity of it all. the pathological lying is honestly embarrassing at this point.

and, of course, the apologies only start rolling in after she's been caught—clearly just an attempt to redirect the drama and save face.

embarrassing...

SECTION 5: FINAL THOUGHTS—My Brain Hurts

in conclusion, this user does not deserve a platform on this app. she has failed to learn from her past mistakes and has clung to an incident that happened over FOUR MONTHS AGO. it’s time for accountability in our community.

harassment and deception have no place in spaces dedicated to creativity and expression. when individuals prioritize personal vendettas over respect and integrity, they tarnish the very essence of what fandom is meant to be.

it’s crucial that we foster an environment where originality is celebrated and where creators feel safe to share their work without fear of retaliation or harassment.

i highly encourage you to read everything i’ve shared and form your own opinion on the incident, but now you know my point of view.

ADDRESSING COMMON QUESTIONS

1. Isn’t this just a personal dispute?

while this situation is personal to me, it reflects broader issues within our fandoms. it’s not just about my experience; it’s about creating a community that values respect and integrity. we should all feel safe to share our work without fear of harassment or plagiarism. no one should feel comfortable stealing others' hard work or bullying creators into silence.

2. Why are some of the photos lower quality than others?

tumblr has a 30-photo limit, which meant i had to manually combine certain screenshots in a photo editor to get everything in. i also wanted to save space to make sure the most important screenshots could be posted in their highest quality. this is especially noticeable in the banter between me and her alternate account (see Section 2).

3. Why didn’t you just take down the post like she asked? Are you really jealous of her like she accused you of?

• absolutely not. i kept the post up for accountability. this was never about ego, jealousy, or a desire for control, as she accused me of—it’s about making sure people are aware of what happened and holding someone responsible for their actions. removing the post would allow her to escape the consequences of her behavior, which isn’t fair to me or anyone else she may target in the future. trying to turn this into a jealousy issue is a distraction tactic, and honestly, it’s irrelevant to the conversation. it’s not about followers or popularity—it’s about principles. 4. Why make this public? • because i gave her chances to handle this privately, and she chose to continue the harassment. this could have ended quietly, but she made the decision to escalate it. i’m not going to stay silent about someone who continues to lie, harass, and try to manipulate others.

5. Is it really that big of a deal?

yes. i know this whole situation is a bit silly, but plagiarism and harassment are serious issues, whether they happen online or in real life. it’s not just about fanfiction; it’s about respecting people’s work and holding individuals accountable when they cross boundaries.

to wrap this up, if you have any questions or concerns about the situation, feel free to reach out to me. i’ve tried to lay everything out as clearly as possible while trying to get this information out as quickly as possible, but i’m open to any clarifications or further discussion. i honestly don’t know how far this will reach or how many people will see it, but I think it’s important to at least try. for accountability’s sake, i’m tagging all the fandoms she’s active in, so all people can be aware of what’s been happening. hopefully, this will help set a standard in our community for respecting each other’s work and holding people accountable when they cross the line. i understand that some may want to defend her, but it’s crucial to consider the pattern of behavior exhibited. defending someone who has repeatedly shown disrespect for others’ work can enable harmful actions. i encourage people to look at the evidence and form their own opinions rather than simply siding with someone based on personal feelings.

thank you for your time!! ©valsverse— do not steal, edit, or repost my works. plagiarism is prohibited.

[pochaccoups]

achilles’ heel — choi seungcheol

pairing — choi seungcheol x fem!reader

summary — after a knee surgery, your boyfriend feels off about his body. you’re determined to show him just how much you love it.

wc — 3.1k

warnings — nsfw content. minors dni. smut, established relationship, light angst, fluff, body insecurity, body worship, petnames (baby, pretty girl), oral sex (m receiving), creampie

author’s note — hi i still think about when cheol said in a live that he wears big hoodies bc he’s insecure of his body and im still upset because i need him to know that he makes couprangs (ME) feel insane over his body that’s sooo big and strong ok enjoy

Something is bothering Seungcheol.

You’ve been with your boyfriend long enough to reasonably suspect when there’s something on his mind, and while he’s gotten relatively good at putting on a front to his members, it’s a little harder for him to conceal his thoughts from you. You, who’s ever observant and aware of his habits. You, who, when Seungcheol is sick with something even if non-contagious, somehow coincidentally feel the same symptoms. You, who is practically empathetically connected with him.

It’s not hard to notice that he’s been distant, though. Ever since he’d been able to walk again after his surgery, he’s had a weird edge to him that was never there before, like a rescue dog with trust issues. 

By no means had he become neglectful to you. Not once had he stopped treating you like you were his entire world, but it was all in the way his hugs weren’t as tight as usual. He insisted he didn’t need help with things like showering or dressing anymore—which was fair since he could walk now, but when you’d asked if he wanted to join you in the shower, suddenly he was too tired. Once upon a time you couldn’t even finish the question before he was stripped naked and next to you. 

You don’t remember the last time you’d been intimate with him. The moment your lips would make their way to his neck after a soft makeout, he’d ease you away from him, gently confessing that he just wasn’t in the mood, that he was just too tired again. 

And that’s fine with you—you’d die before disrespecting the boundaries which are so crucial to your relationship. You did miss him though, and deep down, something in your heart had told you that, along with everything else, something was not right.

You’re curled into his side one night when you find the courage to confront him.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” 

Your suspicions are confirmed the moment his chest stiffens under your cheek. 

“I know… Why?” he asks, hesitant, as though he’s walking on eggshells.

“I feel like you’ve been acting, I don’t know, off. I’m worried about you, Cheollie,” you admit, poking your finger into his torso. 

Three of his breaths, full of contemplation, fill the air before he speaks again. 

“It’s my body,” he says. “I don’t like how much bigger I’ve gotten.”

You bolt upright, staring dead into his eyes with daggers in yours.

“That’s why you’ve been so squirmish?”

He nods his head, pouting absentmindedly, then continues. “I’ve just felt… gross.”

It takes everything in you not to smack him across the face. Your hands ball into fists, your face growing hot as rage bubbles and stirs beneath your skin. You climb on top of him, trapping his waist between your thighs as you sit upon him.

“Choi Seungcheol, you’re so stupid.” There’s an air of affection in your words, but you hope they’re stern enough to get through to him.

He groans as he hides his face in the fabric of his hoodie. “This is why I didn’t tell you.”

“Because you knew it was stupid? Cheol, you were in rehab recovering from surgery. You literally couldn’t walk for weeks. Besides, you’re acting like it’s a bad thing that you’ve gotten ‘bigger’,” you say, fingers wrapping around his wrists so you can pull his hands away from his face. “Do you know how feral you’ve been making me feel recently?”

“Feral?!” he says, eyes widening as he fails to stifle an adorable giggle.

“Your shoulders are so broad now and it drives me fucking crazy,” you say, falling into a fit of your own laughter because the sound of your boyfriend’s laugh is more contagious than any sickness. 

Lacing your fingers with his, your expression hardens. In the rich brown of his eyes, his insecurity finally rears itself to you—and you’re determined to destroy every last shred of it.

“Love everything about your body, Cheol. Love when you cuddle me and hug me with your big arms, makes me feel so safe,” you confess, your smile radiating warmth. Your fingers squeeze his ones.

“Love how you can carry me around, on your back, in your arms…” You let go of his hands to flatten your palms against his stomach, smoothing up his torso slowly. His own hands, eager to never be empty, find your hips, his fingers pinching softly at you through your leggings.

“Love your thick thighs, love sitting in your lap…” You’ve reached his chest now and Seungcheol is smirking — he’s well aware of your obsession with this part of him. 

“Love when you throw me around, manhandle me like a ragdoll, pin me down…” You’re grasping at his shoulders now, leaning forward until there’s hardly an inch between your faces.

“Love when you spank me…” 

It’s then that something in Seungcheol shifts. His pants grow tighter, his hips shifting underneath you as you straddle him. He likes to think he’s a man of self-control, even when it comes to your antics. But there are times where he abandons all discipline — right now, his head is cloudy because he hasn’t let you touch him in weeks.

“You’ve been depriving me of cock all this time because you’ve been eating too good?” you say, scoffing as you reach for the hem of Seungcheol’s hoodie to tug at it. You pause, glancing at him for approval. Still with a dash of hesitation he sits up, helping you shrug it over his head, exposing himself to you.

“Don’t get too bratty, I can keep depriving you,” he retorts, but it’s playful. 

It’s like your first time with him all over again. All you’d gotten over the past few weeks were glimpses of his bare skin, a peek as he came out of the shower or changed or when his shirt lifted up as he stretched. He’s always been a little modest, but never to this extent. 

The sight of his bare form knocks every last breath from your lungs. He’s always been beautiful—strong and dependable, now even more so. His body has always given you the urge to get on your knees and worship and pray to him like the Greeks did, now it feels as though you were born to do just that. 

Then there’s a pang of violence, too, because he hasn’t even changed that drastically. He’s a little softer in his tummy, his arms a little thicker, but that’s all, really. It’s definitely not something for him to have been hiding out of disgust. Of course, it’s not all too difficult to deduce why he felt it necessary to do it—he’s an idol. It’s his job to look picturesque and perfect and flawless. His mind is bound to become mean, to turn to cruel lies of not being good enough.

Your lips leave a trail along his skin, from his collarbones, to his chest, and down his abdomen. Your hope is that each kiss will help chase away Seungcheol’s every last insecurity. It’s naive of you, perhaps, because it will take a lot more than just this to unravel what he has convinced himself of. At the very least, it’s a start.

You paw at the band of his sweats, lips hovering below his belly button as you glance up at him.

“Can I take them off?”

A nervous pause. Then, “do it,” he says, sighing softly. 

And then you’re pulling them down his legs, down his thick, hard thighs—the ones made for you to sit on. 

His boxers come next, but not before you ask for his explicit permission again. More than ever, you’re utterly dedicated to his comfort. 

It’s instinct how your hand reaches for his cock, heavy as your fingers wrap around it and so thick that your fingertips don’t even touch. The sight of it which you’ve missed so much, pretty, pink, and veiny, has you drooling already, your teeth baring down on your bottom lip. You’re aching between your legs. 

You need him inside you or you might die.

Seungcheol’s eyes sparkle as he watches your lips leave wet kisses along his length, pecking along the veins as you make your way up, then spoiling his tip with sweet smooches and kitten licks in between.

“Missed you, Cheol,” you tell him, breathy and tender.

“I know,” he says, then you take his cock past your lips and he hisses as the warmth of your mouth greets him. 

He doesn’t realise how much he’s missed this, missed you, until his tip bumps the back of your throat and you’re choking around him despite not even having half of him in your mouth yet. His hand flies to grab a fistful of your hair, still managing to treat you gently as he pulls you back.

“Easy, pretty girl,” he pleads, the rasp in his voice instilling within you an urge to listen. His effect on you is trance-like, his honeyed voice irresistible. 

You blink up at him, batting your tear-brimmed lashes at him, knowing how it makes his heart swell. You take him slowly this time, one hand stroking at his base so that no inch of him is left untouched, and you swallow him little by little. 

Seungcheol lets out a low groan, a gorgeous sound that makes the world spin around you. It rushes straight to your core, burning through you, turning you hungrier, greedier.

You can’t help but slip one of your hands down between your thighs, sliding your fingers between your folds which you find practically dripping. Your fingertips dance over your clit, circling it softly before you dip two of your digits inside to feed the insatiable flame that burns in your core. 

“Fuck, baby,” Seungcheol groans, catching sight of the way your fingers pump in and out of your dripping hole. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

He doesn’t need to tell you—his cock twitches in your mouth as he speaks. 

The sheer size and thickness of your boyfriend’s length always proves challenging for you, but the heat emanating from deep within your core begs for you to spoil him—because his pleasure is equally yours—and has you burying him all the way down your throat in spite of the tears that spring to your eyes and the clench of your oesophagus around him. 

And the thing about Seungcheol is that his mere existence is enough to toss you out of your mind, to make you throw all morals out the window until you’re no better than a cat in heat.

He lets out a noise that’s part-laugh and part-moan as your nose nuzzles against the wiry hairs of his happy trail, never failing to be caught off guard by your eagerness even after years of being your lover. His hand settles on your cheek, at the corner of your lips that are stretched around his girth, his thumb drawing soft strokes on your skin.

“I said go easy,” he says, voice strained, but he chuckles amusedly through his words.

You bob your head back up, popping off of him briefly. Webs of glimmering spit connect your lips with his cock, and Seungcheol thinks you’ve never looked prettier. He can’t help but brush his thumb over your swollen lips while his eyes drink you in with a tender gleam. 

“Can’t help myself,” you reply, smiling coyly, then the next moment you’re back on him again, swirling your tongue around his tip.

You pull your fingers from your pussy momentarily to drag your nails along his thighs, so thick and heavy with muscle that you’re certain when you sink them into his skin he feels no more than a soft scratch. It helps when you swallow him whole again, helps keep your tears at bay just a little, helps the muscles of your throat relax so that you can bob your head up and down his length the way both you and him like it.

You don’t go too fast lest he pulls you away for ignoring his pleas, but there’s also no need for you to go too fast. Yes, you’ve missed him, missed having him like this, missed touching him, but right now that’s not what you’re concerned about. All that spurs you on is the want —the need—to make Seungcheol feel as desirable as he is to you. 

So you take him steadily, at a pace that’s enough to get him worked up and simultaneously lets your affection drip from every drag of your mouth along his length, lets you taste every inch of him and every drop of his salty precum. Your soft moans muffled by his cock merge with his ones, breathy and whiny, broken up by praises and light mewls of your name. 

One of your hands moves between your legs again, squelching as your fingers enter your throbbing cunt once more.

You refuse to break your eyes away from his, as though averting your gaze from him even for a second would mean he would vanish before you. It’s also Seungcheol’s Achilles’ heel—look into his eyes and he doesn’t stand a chance against you. 

You could predict the way curses start spilling from his lips and the way his cock starts to throb lightly in your mouth and the way his hips start to buck every time his tip reaches the back of your throat. When it comes to you, he’s weak and he will never hide it.

“Baby, I’m close,” he says, a near whisper. 

His confession prompts you to pull your mouth off of him and he whimpers, pouting shamelessly like a kicked puppy. Some alpha leader. 

“You’re really teasing me right now?” 

“Cheollie… You’ve been ignoring me for weeks and you think I’d just let you cum like that?” you say, but your voice is full of playfulness. You want to make up for the affection you haven’t been able to give him for so long, yet a part of you wants to get back at him a little. 

“I’ll remember this,” he grins.

“I know you will,” you tell him as you clamber up his legs until you’re straddling his waist, bending forward to press a chaste kiss to his mouth and pouting at him. “What if I want you to finish inside me though?”

“Then let me prep you first,” he insists, giant hands finding your hips and drawing circles with his thumbs. He’s about to flip you over onto your back, but you shake your head and press a hand to his chest to keep him still. 

“I’ve already prepped myself, Cheollie, you wanna taste?” 

Before he can bicker back, you push your soaked fingers between his lips and into his mouth, and he sucks them subconsciously, lapping up every last drop of your arousal with a moan.

When his mouth is free of your fingers, he smiles.

“I still wanna touch you,” he rasps, resolute.

You lean over him until your mouth is on his again, but this time your lips slide sloppily against one anothers’ from the mess of saliva and cum that drips from them. Your hands travel up his torso, palms smoothing over his bare flesh, but touching him is not enough. 

“I wanna take care of you, Seungcheol, so please just let me,” you whisper against his lips, grinding your hips over his cock where it lays against his abdomen. 

“Okay, okay,” he surrenders, sighing as your lips drop down to his neck and nip at his tender skin there. “But I’m eating you out for at least two hours next time.”

You perk back up to shoot him an unamused look, in spite of the fact that it’s really a win-win situation for you. You just hate that there’s no budging your boyfriend’s stubbornness. 

“I love you,” he says, lips curling into a ghost of a smirk.

And here is your Achilles heel, because you’re just a girl, after all. A girl not immune to her breathtaking lover’s sweet words, whose heart sways at his whispers of affection to her—to only her. 

Warmth floods your veins. The need to be one with him becomes urgent. 

Grasping onto Seungcheol’s broad shoulders, you sink down upon him, inch by inch until he’s bottomed out inside you and your moans of relief are perfectly in sync. He grips your hips so hard they’ll probably bruise, no doubt having become unused to how sweetly your warm walls envelop his cock like a hug. Meanwhile you’ve forgotten how his dick, in all its thickness, is capable of punching the air from your lungs.

Still, there’s no hesitation in the way you start to bounce your hips on him and it’s not long before the burning stretch fizzles into a glowing pleasure in the pit of your stomach. 

When you’re above him like this, you’re able to take in the sight of all of him. His biceps, bulky and thick, his shoulders, sturdy and broad. Every inch of him is so perfect that you wonder how he’s all yours. You hate to think about how he could have possibly felt disgusted by himself. If he wasn’t already yours in real life, he would be in your dreams, exactly as he is as he lays beneath you. 

It’s overwhelming. Feeling him again after so many weeks, the way his cock drives into you so deliciously, his sculpture-like body—you’re not sure what does it, probably a mixture of everything, but before you know it your pussy is clamping down on him and your entire body quivers with a wave of

“Fuck, I’m cumming too, baby, I’m right with you,” he utters, staring at you as if you descended straight from Heaven.

“No,” you say, and your hips halt their bouncing, yet your fingers are still toying with your clit as you recover from your orgasm. 

Seungcheol whines at the cruelty of it.

“Not until you agree this body is sexy,” you say, teasing, grinding your hips painfully slowly along his cock—certainly not enough to keep up any kind of stimulation.

He gives a pained, exasperated laugh, and thinks fuck, he’s in love with you. He’s not sure what he’s done, maybe saved a life or two in a past life, but even that seems like it’s not enough for him to deserve you. 

The way your walls squeeze down on his cock makes his head spin. If he doesn’t cum soon he thinks he might die.

“It is, okay? I love this body. Now please, please, keep going,” he blurts out, stroking his hands up and down your thighs sweetly, pouting up at you so irresistibly.

“Say it’s sexy.”

He whines again, painfully desperate. His voice breaks when he repeats your words; “my body is sexy.”

You smile like a little minx when you start to bounce up and down him again, even harder this time. Seungcheol moans, such a gorgeous sound, and before long he’s grasping at your waist and pulling you flush against him as his cock throbs and he fills you up with spurts of his warm seed.

As he comes back down with heavy breaths, you pepper his neck and jawline with saccharine kisses. 

“I love you,” you say, relishing in the weight and warmth of his strong arms wrapped around your nude body, in the feeling of his soft yet firm torso that’s one with your own. “You’re perfect to me.”