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svsssfanonarchive · 9 months ago

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Examining SVSSS Canon: 2/∞

THE PRE-CANON TIMELINE

This post will attempt to provide an answer to several questions, including the ages of some of the current peak lords, as well as a rough timeline of events in the extras relative to the current day. A simple, bullet-point timeline will be at the end of this post, with relevant quotes and analysis above.

The timeline of SVSSS isn't particularly easy to piece together, and many fans are unsure of things such as the ages of certain characters, or how long the current generation of peak lords has been in power. As a matter of fact, it seems like even Airplane himself doesn't have a set timeline in mind for the events of PIDW pre-LBH:

“Your ages?” To tell the truth, Shen Qingqiu didn’t really know the precise age of this body. He raised his head at Shang Qinghua. “Wouldn’t you know better than I do?” Shang Qinghua twirled the brush in his hand. He’d never thought about this question either, so he figured he might as well just say whatever. Therefore he randomly wrote a number down in a couple of strokes. (7 Seas, Ch. 31)

It would be easy enough to take this quote and call the timeline a mystery-- however, there are a surprising amount of clues in the text, enough to at least put together a decent idea of when things happened and how old certain characters are, depending on which theories and interpretations one ascribes to.

There are two particular facts which are our most important hints as to the pre-LBH timeline, upon which this entire analysis hinges.

First, we have the spacing of the Immortal Alliance Conferences:

After much difficulty, Luo Binghe managed to turn seventeen, at which point he finally participated in the event the cultivation world held once every four years: the Immortal Alliance Conference. (7 Seas, Ch. 1)

And next, we have the length of time since Shen Qingqiu began to cultivate:

Before, Shen Qingqiu had thought that this body’s qualifications were already incredible, to have formed a core in only ten or so years when he’d begun cultivation so late. (7 Seas, Ch. 19)

Notably here, what is translated as "ten or so years" is 十几年， which is more accurately "ten and a few years." This means that at the time Shen Qingqiu formed a golden core, he had been at Cang Qiong Mountain for around 10-15 years, but likely no longer or shorter than that.

This tells us quite a bit already-- because we know that Shen Qingqiu only reached core formation after becoming peak lord, as well as after Luo Binghe had already become a disciple:

Luo Binghe was using the incorrect cultivation manual that Shen Qingqiu had handed him; he should have long since died bleeding from the seven apertures, his body rupturing down to his bones, skin, meridians, tendons, and flesh... Shen Qingqiu was filled with paranoia; he forever felt like everyone was secretly talking behind his back, discussing how he’d been unable to attain Core Formation even after this long. (7 Seas, Ch. 24)

So this tells us that it could not have been any longer than around 15 years between Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe joining Cang Qiong Mountain, and was likely at least a few years less than that because it has already been awhile since Luo Binghe was given the fake manual, which likely occured shortly after he arrived, and Shen Qingqiu reaches core formation at some point after this scene.

This means that the Qing generation's ascenscion likely occured no more than ten years after Shen Qingqiu joined the sect-- putting the ages for Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan respectively at roughly twenty-six and twenty-nine when they became peak lords.

The timeline can be clarified further and expanded, however, due to the spacing of the IAC. We know that the IAC occured when Luo Binghe was seventeen, and that it occurs every four years-- meaning that there would have been IAC taking place also when he was thirteen, nine, five, one, and three years before he was born.

However, we also know that it had not actually been fourteen years since Luo Binghe's birth at the start of SVSSS.

In the translation, Luo Binghe says the following when Shen Qingqiu asks his age:

“This disciple is fourteen,” Luo Binghe obediently replied. (7 Seas, Ch. 1)

However, the original says:

洛冰河乖巧地道：“弟子虚岁十四。”

"虚岁" here would be better translated as "nominal age." In ancient times, a child was one year old on the day of their birth, and aged up by one year with each new year-- so if a child was born the day before the new year, then at two days old he would already be counted as two years old. Sometimes, this would be counted on the spring festival new year, but other times it would be counted on the winter solstice.

As for Luo Binghe's precise chronological age, that is up for some determination. We know roughly the time of year he was born:

Immediately after birth, Luo Binghe was abandoned by his parents, swaddled in white cloth, and put in a wooden basin that was lowered into the Luo River. This occurred on the coldest days of the year... (7 Seas, Ch. 1)

The "coldest days of the year" here is 数九寒天, which refers to the nine periods of nine days each following the winter solstice. The winter solstice typically occurs on December 20-21, meaning that Luo Binghe's birth date is somewhere between December 20-March 12. If nominal age is being counted by winter solstice in this world, then that makes him chronologically thirteen at the start of SVSSS, but if it is calculated by the spring festival, then he is chronologically either twelve or thirteen at the start of SVSSS, as the Chinese new year can fall anywhere between January 21 - February 21, meaning that LBH could have been born either before or after this time.

So, let's just say that LBH's chronological age, for the purposes here, is thirteen, and then adjust our IAC timeline as follows：

There was one when he was chronologically sixteen, twelve, eight, four, the year he was born, and four years before he was born.

Now, how does this help us determine a timeline?

Well, we have the following statement:

Yue Qingyuan’s knuckles slowly brushed along Xuan Su’s hilt. “I was able to meet Senior Su Xiyan once at an Immortal Alliance Conference, many years ago." (7 Seas, Ch. 18)

Because we know that Su Xiyan died when Luo Binghe was born, we know that this meeting could not have occured at any conferences after his birth. It also would be unlikely that they met the same year Luo Binghe was born, as Su Xiyan would likely already be dead at that point if LBH was born after the new year. So, the latest that Yue Qingyuan could have met Su Xiyan would be twenty years before Luo Binghe was thrown into the Abyss.

We now combine this with the earlier discussion of the ages of Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan, and here I will note the following:

Yue Qingyuan slowly said, “At age fifteen, I entered Qiong Ding Peak." (7 Seas, Ch. 21)

This puts Yue Qingyuan roughly three years older than Shen Jiu:

“When [Shen Jiu] was twelve years old, he was but a slave my family had purchased from traveling child traffickers. " (7 Seas, Ch. 6)

Shen Jiu joined Cang Qiong Mountain at sixteen:

Liu Qingge didn’t even grace him with a sideways glance. “But certainly more success than a nobody who only began proper cultivation at age sixteen.” (7 Seas, Ch. 19)

This happened most likely directly after reuniting with Yue Qingyuan at an Immortal Alliance Conference. This puts Yue Qingyuan's age at nineteen during that conference, at which point he is head disciple, and has already gained some fame. However, this reunion has to occur before Luo Binghe's birth, Su Xiyan's death, and Tianlang-jun's defeat. This is because at this point, Yue Qingyuan has only been in Cang Qiong Mountain for four years-- thus, this particular conference is almost certainly the first one he has taken part in, and likely the first one he has attended at all, since a brand-new disciple in early stages of training most likely wouldn't have gone, therefore if Tianlang-jun had already been sealed by this point, Yue Qingyuan would not have had the chance to meet Su Xiyan.

So, the latest Shen Qingqiu could have joined Cang Qiong Mountain, at age 16, is twenty years before the Abyss, which would put him at age thirty-six at the youngest at that time.

Now, what about additional conference cycles?

It's possible that the conference in which Yue Qingyuan met Su Xiyan and/or after which Shen Qingqiu joined CQM may have been the one before this-- but that would also add four additional years to the time SQQ had been cultivating.

The earliest that Luo Binghe could have joined CQM would be when he was a little over ten years old, as that is when his mother dies:

On the bed lay a haggard old woman. With great effort, she tried to prop herself up, but from beginning to end, she was unable to do so. A small figure rushed in from outside. A tender-faced Luo Binghe, only a little over ten years old, supported the woman. Around his neck hung that jade pendant. (7 Seas, Ch. 3)

Shen Qingqiu had not reached core formation when Luo Binghe joined the sect. This means that if the IAC where SQQ joined the sect was four years before Luo Binghe's birth, then by the time Luo Binghe joins the sect it has been about fourteen to fifteen years since SQQ began cultivating.

Adding an additional four years would bump that to eighteen to nineteen years, which exceeds the "ten and some" years that SQQ took to reach core formation.

In my opinion, this also tells me that LBH joined CQM when he was absolutely no older than ten or eleven, and likely went to join immediately after his mother's death, because pushing LBH's join date later would also stretch the timeline of SQQ's cultivation. Now, this part does not specify whether the ten years old is nominal age or chronological age-- but because LBH's age of seventeen at the conference is referenced to his nominal age of fourteen, with a distance between of three years, then I am considering all age-numbers to be nominal age rather than chronological. This only really matters in regards to Luo Binghe for this analysis, though, as his birth year is the only one which has bearing on the timeline in regards to Su Xiyan's status.

With all of this information, we can determine with good confidence that the conference in which Yue Qingyuan met Su Xiyan was the same conference during which he reunited with Shen Qingqiu, which occured four years before Luo Binghe was born and twenty years before the Endless Abyss.

So because of this, we actually do have a relatively precise timeline of characters' ages, as well as events in the cultivation world.

This short timeline is also supported by the fact that Ming Fan is the most senior of Shen Qingqiu's disciples, and he is only sixteen, about 2-3 years older than Luo Binghe:

A youth around sixteen years old, tall and thin, promptly ran in through the door. “This disciple is here. What instructions does Shifu have?” (7 Seas, Ch. 1)

Had the Qing generation ascended too many years prior to Luo Binghe's joining the sect, it would be strange that the most senior disciple of Shen Qingqiu's was only sixteen, as in xianxia a disciple typically will not "graduate" at a certain age or cultivation stage, meaning that older disciples will maintain their role well into adulthood.

As for the rest of the peak lords, we have little to no information regarding the ages of Wei Qingwei, Qi Qingqi, or Mu Qingfang. However, we do know that Liu Qingge is quite young, and joined the sect both at an optimal age and a significant length of time before Shen Qingqiu:

At this point, Liu Qingge’s formal ascension to Bai Zhan Peak Lord, too, had likely only happened a couple years ago. There was a visible air of immaturity about his features, his gaze fierce and sharp, and within his every action was a young man’s spirited vigor. (7 Seas, Ch. 19)

and

Therefore, even though he’d entered the sect quite some time after Liu Qingge, because Qing Jing Peak was ranked second—only below Qiong Ding Peak—while Bai Zhan Peak was ranked seventh, Liu Qingge still had to address Shen Qingqiu as “Shixiong,” if through gritted teeth. (7 Seas, Ch. 24)

So, Liu Qingge is likely a year or two younger than Shen Qingqiu, but not by too much, since they still behave very much like contemporaries as teenagers-- let's say that Liu Qingge is likely around 14-15 when Shen Qingqiu joins the sect at age 16.

The other peak lord we know a bit about the age of is Shang Qinghua:

The older-than-average outer disciple Shang Qinghua, who currently occupied a seventeen-year-old body, looked around in all directions as he trailed behind the main team, who were unloading goods from the ship onto the docks. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

He is seventeen here, and an outer disciple of An Ding Peak. We can place this a bit more definitively on the timeline by the fact that Shen Qingqiu is already a head disciple at this point in time:

“What I don’t know is how Shen Qingqiu got chosen as head disciple after starting cultivation so late,” said another outer disciple who’d joined Cang Qiong Mountain at an older age, his expression sour. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

Unfortunately, we cannot place the exact point in time where Shen Qingqiu became head disciple-- one possibility is that it couldn't have happened until after Tianlang-jun's defeat, which occured about four years after he joined the sect, since he did not participate in the battle. But that is a weak argument, since none of the current generation besides Yue Qingyuan participated in that battle:

Of the current peak lords, only Yue Qingyuan had participated in that battle, as the head disciple of Qiong Ding Peak. (7 Seas, Ch. 17)

If using this argument, then that would mean that aside from Yue Qingyuan, none of the other peak lords had been chosen as head disciples at that time-- while that is a possibility, I think that a more feasible explanation would be that Yue Qingyuan was an exception, and participated in the battle specifically because of his wielding Xuan Su.

One thing we can extrapolate, however, is that Shang Qinghua was most likely an inner disciple for at least three years before the Qing generation's ascension. This is because of the following:

One day, Shang Qinghua’s concise Great System delivered a new command: Become the An Ding Peak head disciple within three years. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

Now, it is somewhat loose evidence, as there is nothing to say that "three years" means for certain that the ascension would occur three years from that point, but it does mean that it occured no earlier than that. By now, Shang Qinghua has already been an inner disciple for some time, long enough to have been assisted by Mobei-jun a few times and to have gone on several missions-- most likely around a few months to a year or so at minimum.

Of course, how long has passed between Shen Qingqiu joining the sect and this point? Well, since Shen Qingqiu is still described as a youth:

Shang Qinghua suddenly heard the tinkling of sword tassel pendants, and a youth wearing Qing Jing Peak’s uniform slowly approached him. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

Because of this description, I would say that Shen Qingqiu is most likely between seventeen and his early twenties, since it isn't particularly likely that he would become head disciple in less than a year after joining the sect. Of course, within this age range, there is one important event that occurs-- the battle of Bai Lu mountain, which would have occured when Shen Qingqiu was twenty and Yue Qingyuan was twenty-three.

Now, this gets into more of a speculation than anything else-- just before this point, Mobei-jun attacked Huan Hua Palace and the An Ding Peak disciples. If the battle of Bai Lu Mountain had already occured, it would have happened no more than a few years earlier. We also know that there is a tentative truce between the demon realm and the cultivation world:

This suggestion was solid. For many years, the Human and Demon Realms had maintained an uneasy balance and had yet to drop the pretense of peace. Eliminating Sha Hualing and her mob wouldn’t be impossible, but it would likely light a fuse. The demons definitely wouldn’t let her death go unanswered, and it wouldn’t be worth it if they stirred up an even greater conflict. (7 Seas, Ch. 3)

I suspect that this pretense of peace was likely set in place after the battle of Bai Lu Mountain, when the demon realm had just lost their ruler.

Since just a short time had happened since the demons' defeat and a likely truce between the realms, I find it unlikely that Mobei-jun, a prominent member of demonic nobility, at this time would be actively antagonizing the cultivation world by attacking Huan Hua Palace and Cang Qiong Mountain. Now, of course, there is a potential alternate storyline that this is exactly what happened, and Mobei-jun went rogue as an act of lashing out, and that interpretation would be perfectly valid on its own.

Personally, though, I believe that Shang Qinghua's meeting with Mobei-jun occured before the battle of Bai Lu Mountain, while the cultivation world and demon world were in the tense state on the edge of war. This means that Shang Qinghua most likely became an inner disciple when Shen Qingqiu was around 17-19 years old.

With this information, we can determine some relative ages:

Yue Qingyuan is three years older than Shen Qingqiu, who is a little older than Liu Qingge. Because Shang Qinghua was seventeen when Shen Qingqiu was already head disciple, it is most likely that he is around Liu Qingge's age, give or take a few years, as it is not particularly likely (though potentially possible) for Shen Qingqiu to have gone from new disciple to head disciple in the space of a single year.

Aside from these four, there are no other ages that can be determined for the peak lords.

With all of this information, a fairly decent timeline can be created. Characters' ages will be listed with each notable year.

《 THE TIMELINE 》

*counted up to the start of SVSSS. If using this timeline, keep in mind that the earliest and latest notes for date ranges can overlap-- do not accidentally have a disciple join the sect before the current peak lords ascend, or have SQH become head disciple after ascension! Dates with ranges are colored green (earliest) and red (latest).

Earlier than -21 YR

LQG: <;10-11

(earliest) Liu Qingge joins Cang Qiong Mountain

-21 YR

LQG: 10-11, SQQ: 12, YQY: 15, QHT: <16, QJL: 16

Shen Jiu sold to Qiu Jianluo

Yue Qi joins Cang Qiong Mountain

--IAC--

-19 YR

LQG: 12-13, SQQ: 14, YQY: 17

(earliest*) Yue Qingyuan enters the Lingxi Caves with Xuan Su

-18 YR

LQG: 13-14, SQQ: 15, YQY: 18, QHT: <19, QJL: 19

(latest*) Yue Qingyuan enters the Lingxi Caves with Xuan Su

Shen Jiu kills Qiu Jianluo and burns down Qiu Manor

Shen Jiu becomes Wu Yanzi's disciple

(earliest*) Yue Qi leaves the Lingxi Caves

(earliest*) Yue Qi becomes head disciple

(latest) Liu Qingge joins Cang Qiong Mountain

-17 YR

LQG: 14-15, SQQ: 16, YQY: 19

(latest*) Yue Qi leaves the Lingxi Caves

(latest*) Yue Qi becomes head disciple

--IAC--

Yue Qingyuan meets Su Xiyan

Shen Jiu kills Wu Yanzi and joins Cang Qiong Mountain

-16 YR

LQG: 15-16, SQH: 15-17, SQQ: 17, YQY: 20

(earliest) Shen Qingqiu becomes Head Disciple

(earliest) Shang Qinghua meets Mobei-jun and becomes inner disciple at age 17

(earliest) Shang Qinghua receives the directive to become head disciple within three years

(earliest) Shang Qinghua becomes head disciple

-14 YR

MF: 2, LQG: 17-18, SQH: 17-19, SQQ: 19, YQY: 22

(latest) Shen Qingqiu becomes Head Disciple

(latest) Shang Qinghua meets Mobei-jun and becomes inner disciple at age 17

(earliest**) Su Xiyan imprisoned and subjected to torture in Water Prison

(earliest**) Battle of Bai Lu Mountain

(earliest**) Tianlang-jun Sealed

-13 YR

NYY: <1, LBH: 1, MF: 3, LQG: 18-19, SQH: 18-20, SQQ: 20, YQY: 23

(latest**) Su Xiyan imprisoned and subjected to torture in Water Prison

(latest**) Battle of Bai Lu Mountain

(latest**) Tianlang-jun Sealed

Luo Binghe is Born

Su Xiyan Dies

(earliest) Qing Generation ascend to become Peak Lords

--IAC--

-11 YR

NYY: 2-3, LBH: 3, MF: 5, LQG: 20-21, SQH: 20-22, SQQ: 22, YQY: 25

(earliest***) Ming Fan joins Qing Jing Peak under Shen Qingqiu

-9 YR

NYY: 4-5, LBH: 5, MF: 7, LQG: 22-23, SQH: 22-24, SQQ: 24, YQY: 27

--IAC--

-8 YR

NYY: 5-6, LBH: 6, MF: 8, LQG: 23-24, SQH: 23-25, SQQ: 25, YQY: 28

(latest) Shang Qinghua receives the directive to become head disciple within three years

(earliest***) Ning Yingying joins Qing Jing Peak under Shen Qingqiu

-5 YR

NYY: 8-9, LBH: 9, MF: 11, LQG: 27-28, SQH: 27-29, SQQ: 29, YQY: 32

--IAC--

(latest) Shang Qinghua becomes head disciple

(latest) Qing Generation ascend to become Peak Lords

(latest) Ming Fan joins Qing Jing Peak under Shen Qingqiu

-4 YR

NYY: 9-10, LBH: 10, MF: 12, LQG: 28-29, SQH: 28-30, SQQ: 30, YQY: 33

Luo Binghe's adoptive mother dies

(earliest) Luo Binghe joins Qing Jing Peak

(earliest) Shen Qingqiu reaches Core Formation

-3 YR

NYY: 10-11, LBH: 11, MF: 13, LQG: 29-30, SQH: 29-31, SQQ: 31, YQY: 34

(latest****) Ning Yingying joins Qing Jing Peak under Shen Qingqiu

(latest) Luo Binghe joins Qing Jing Peak

-2 YR

NYY: 11-12, LBH: 12, MF: 14, LQG: 30-31, SQH: 30-32, SQQ: 32, YQY: 35

(latest*****) Shen Qingqiu reaches Core Formation

-1 YR

NYY: 12-13, LBH: 13, MF: 15

--IAC--

Year 0

NYY: 13-14, LBH: 14, MF: 16

SVSSS Begins

-----

This timeline operates under the following conditions. For some of these conditions, alternatives are discussed in the post above-- if you wish to use any of the alternative calculations, then you're more than welcome to adjust the timeline as applicable for your own use!

"Years" are counted from the first day of the spring festival/Chinese new year, rather than January 1

All character ages are nominal ages, so they were born in the year they are counted as age "1"

Luo Binghe was born after the new year, and so his nominal age is only about one year higher than chronological.

Shang Qinghua met Mobei-jun before the battle of Bai Lu Mountain

The system's time limit for SQH does reference the time of the Qing generation's ascension

The Immortal Alliance Conference takes place roughly in the middle of the year. Based on the fact that it is warm enough for the disciples to dip their feet into a stream and find that pleasant, it would make sense for the IAC to occur in a warmer season (Ch. 4)

Further References and Footnotes:

*Yue Qi was in the Lingxi Caves for more than one year and Qiu Manor had already been destroyed by the time he got out (Ch. 21)

**The birth of Luo Binghe occured a few days after the battle of Bai Lu Mountain. Depending on when LBH was born, it could be at the end of year -13 or the first few days of year -12 (Ch. 21)

***We do not know the earliest a child can join Cang Qiong Mountain, even though the appropriate age for cultivation most likely cuts off somewhere around 15 (due to YQY joining at that age and no comments about him being "too old"). For the purposes of this timeline, I am setting the absolute youngest to age 5, but more realistically a disciple wouldn't join until age 8-10 at the earliest.

****It is unknown whether the only time that disciples can join Cang Qiong Mountain is during the recruitment trials. Therefore, there remains a possibility for Ning Yingying to have joined the sect in the same year as Luo Binghe, but at some point before the recruitment trials due to connections. This can potentially be supported by Shen Jiu joining after the IAC, but at the same time, it is not confirmed that SJ joined CQM immediately, or if he had to wait until the next recruitment trial, so there is no clear canon precedent-- nonetheless, it is still possible. Note that Ning Yingying can only join at this late point if Luo Binghe joins at age 11, and after her. The only hard requirement is that NYY joined at some point before LBH.

*****I have placed this as the absolute latest time SQQ could have formed a golden core because this puts him at having been cultivating for sixteen years. It is a bit of a stretch already , but I don't think that "ten and a few" years could really be any longer than this. It is also worth noting that by the time SQQ reaches core formation, every other peak lord has already done so, with Yue Qingyuan first, Liu Qingge and Qi Qingqi next, and Shang Qinghua most likely last (Ch. 24)

Please let me know if you notice any errors in calculation, formatting, or missing details! This was quite substantial so there's a good chance I may have missed something.

Some of the points in this analysis and timeline calculations were brainstormed with the help of @zykamiliah , @cum-villain , @furbygoblinxiv . Many thanks!

#svsss #canon examined #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #yue qingyuan #liu qingge #shang qinghua #svsss timeline #resource

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dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months ago

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Irresistible {7} || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader, Max Verstappen x fem!reader Summary: After everything, you get a happy healthy ending. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, smut, fluff. WC: 4.5k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven

Your Playlist:

Big Girls Don’t Cry - Fergie

Pretend - Secondhand Serenade

No Right To Love You - Rhys Lewis

You Broke Me First - Tate McRae

Lose You To Love Me - Selena Gomez

The Night We Met - Lord Huron

Wicked Game - Violet Orlandi

Charles’ Playlist:

Your Call - Secondhand Serenade

The Loneliest - Mäneskin

Roses And Butterflies - Making April

Amnesia - 5sos

Miserable At Best - Mayday Parade

Love Is Gone - Slander

The Man Who Can’t Be Moved - The Script

Charles was spiralling with every mile that grew between where he was and where you were. The only updates he had from you were in the form of photos on Instagram and his concentration went into waiting for your next post instead of the preparation for the final free practice of the day. He had sent you enough unanswered messages to know you were ignoring him and it hurt more than he dared let on.

“She’s not home yet,” he said as he caught up to Max in the paddock. It was half a question and half a statement, but he needed some sort of confirmation.

“I know.” Of course Max knew. You kept in touch with him, sending him sporadic messages when you stopped to take in the beautiful countryside on the quiet roads. It should have been a four hour drive but you were content to make it last the day so you didn’t have to think about what you had left behind.

Max looked like he was going to say something else but he closed his lips as an arm curled around Charles’ waist. Whatever information he was going to offer was replaced with a simple, “I’ll see you later.”

Charles turned to Charlotte and his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “I thought you left.”

“Because we had one little fight?”

“I would hardly call it little.”

“Whatever,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Anyway, now that Y/N’s gone things will be so much easier between us. We can get back to how we used to be. We are good for each other, Charles.”

Charles briefly entertained the idea of pushing her away but then he remembered how lonely it was sleeping by himself. It was completely stupid to even think the relationship could go back to how it was but he was selfish, if he couldn’t have you then settling for her was going to be the next best thing.

“How about we talk after practice?” His voice was full of defeat and Charlotte knew she had already won as she kissed his cheek and let him go.

“I’ll wait in your garage.”

He faked a smile and headed after Max.

The air was stale when you stepped into the apartment, not bothering to turn on the lights as you dragged yourself down the hall and into your room. Charles’ bedroom door was still half open, the bed unmade and clothes spilling out of his drawers, sending a pang of hurt to your chest before you pulled it shut. You collapsed face first on your bed and just managed to send a message to Max letting him know you arrived safely before you let your emotional exhaustion take you under. You didn't bother to text Charles, he was probably busy anyway.

Dawn came with all the same enthusiasm that you woke with. The skyline was a watery grey and even the birds failed to raise any sort of trill with their woeful calls down on the mariner. Dew clung in the air and on your cheeks as you opened the balcony door and chased away the stale air from being closed up for weeks since the last visit.

Your memory here before the lockdown began didn’t hold a lot of details but you did remember the aroma of coffee drifting up from the cafe below the building. Unfortunately there was only the tang of salt and storm on the air as you inhaled deeply before making the call that was long overdue.

As expected your father answered straight away, the confusion clear in his voice as he realised that his little night owl was up at dawn. “Hey kiddo, is everything okay?”

“Can we have a donut day?”

You could already hear him moving around the house and he must have covered the microphone as he said a muffled goodbye to a sleepy Pascale. “On my way.”

Donut day was created the day you got your first period. As a panicking solo dad he had rushed to the supermarket for supplies, but he left with mostly donuts and other treats. Thankfully Betty was better prepared and soon arrived with everything you needed, along with calm instructions on how to use them. After that, any day that was absolutely terrible was called a donut day. You and your father would sit on the couch and scoff down a box of donuts until the comfort food worked its magic.

You paced the living room until the doorbell rang and practically tore it off the hinges in your haste. You really hadn’t noticed just how lacklustre months of video calls were until you threw your arms around your dad and buried your face in his shirt. Video calls couldn’t capture the smell of his aftershave or the feel of his beard when he kissed your forehead like you were still a little kid.

“I missed you too, pumpkin.” He pulled back to look at your face and his brows pinched together. “Rough night?”

You snorted a laugh but it cracked in your chest and your head fell down. “The last time you asked me that was in Monaco too.”

“I remember. Is this about a boy?”

You nodded and took a seat on the couch while he pensively watched from where he stood. “Will you sit down? You’re making me nervous.”

He huffed and went to the kitchen instead, grabbing a plate and emptying a bag of pastries onto it. “This is the closest to donuts I could find, sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s not about the donuts.” You picked at a pain au chocolat while he took a seat and grabbed a pain au raisin. “I…”

You didn’t know where to begin or what to say, you just knew you had to get the truth off your chest so you could try to move on. Maybe by admitting the mistake you made, it might somehow ease the guilt you were carrying.

“A boy, right?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “The same one actually.”

His eyebrows shot up his forehead.“From when we visited?”

“The very same.” You swallowed but the pastry seemed to coat your throat and you nearly choked before you abandoned it. “It was Charles.”

“Oh,” he said with a nod before it seemed to connect and his eyes widened. “Oh…well…shit..”

“I should have said something sooner but I didn’t want to make things awkward for you and Pascale but I…I really fucked up, dad.”

You could practically see his thoughts crossing his face as he remembered how you had called him the first day, asking to stay anywhere else. A heavy sigh fell and he seemed to deflate into the couch cushions. “I thought you were with Max?”

Your eyes narrowed but you didn’t deny it. “How do you know that?”

“Charlotte posted a picture of you and him the other night.”

“That bitch is a-”

“Uh-uh, no,” he tutted. “Correct me if I am wrong but I am going to assume you and Charles have been more than just friends…”

Your silence was damning.

“I don’t think you have the moral high ground to go around calling her a bitch then. I raised you better than that. Does Max know about Charles?”

“Max knows everything,” you admitted quietly, still feeling the sting of the reprimand. “He’s good for me.”

“Okay, so then what’s the problem?”

“I just really thought it was a chance - with Charles. We made plans, a future, I could see it.” Now all you saw was the note on the table and how he chased after Charlotte. “It was stupid and naive and I feel so embarrassed.”

“Love makes everyone stupid at some point.” Your father sighed again before wrapping his arm around you. “So Max huh? You know he’s got a bit of a reputation. Bit of a hot head.”

You wiped away the tears that had been building and scoffed. “Don’t believe everything you see in the media. They portray Charles as this wholesome boy next door and Max as an angry man child. Both are wrong.”

You grabbed the pastry and ate it, this time able to stomach the idea of food, before grabbing another. It wasn’t as sweet as a donut but the sugar from the chocolate was starting to hit your blood and perk you up.

“I can’t live here anymore. Not Monaco,” you corrected when you saw his eyes widen. “Just here, with Charles. I need somewhere away from him.”

You didn’t know the exact reason why your mother left but you thought maybe she felt like this, maybe it was healthier to leave than to stay.

“The house isn’t finished but the kitchen and your bathroom are done, so it’s livable. You’ll need some moving boxes. A lot by the looks,” your father said as he stood up and looked around the room to see your belongings strewn across the place. “I’ll be back soon.”

“You’re not going to give me a lecture?” you asked as he made his way to the door.

He scanned your features that reminded him so much of your mother. “You look like you’ve learned your lesson to me. Do you need one?”

You shook your head meekly and he nodded to himself. “I’ll be back with some boxes soon.”

“Hello, handsome,” you greeted Max as soon as the video connected. He had just returned to his hotel after qualifying and securing the 5th starting place on the grid. “I’ve found a new hobby, painting.”

His smile brightened at your mood that had dramatically lifted in the past 24 hours and you showed him around your new bedroom. Paint bottles lined a sheet-covered table and dirty brushes sat in a murky jar of water, but you panned across the wall to show him the artwork you had made.

“What is it?” he asked with a forehead crumpled in confusion. He tilted his head trying to see from a different angle but he still couldn’t process the splatterings - it reminded him of a Rorschach test, one he was doing badly at.

“I didn’t say I was good,” you clarified with a laugh as you also tried to interpret the design that was no longer just on the walls. It was a good thing the carpet hadn’t been laid yet. You had tried to push the hair out of your face and smeared paint across your cheek and it had ended up everywhere by the time you were finished. “It is a mess just like me.”

“You're not a mess, schat,” Max said as he sat at the end of his bed and fell back to watch the tour of the rest of the house. “Are you okay there on your own?”

“It’s certainly quieter than the paddock, that will take a bit of getting used to, but I don’t mind it too much.” You did miss the other friends you had made at Ferrari, but felt it was best to give everyone in red a wide berth for a while. You had seen how poorly Charles qualified and knew he wasn’t at his best partly because of you. You still hadn’t been able to answer his calls or texts.

“Well, you could come back, if you want, you’ll always be welcome at Red Bull.”

“If you miss me, you can just say that,” you teased and he sat up.

He combed a hand through his damp hair and you bit your lip remembering how it felt to be the one doing that. “I do miss you,” he admitted seriously. “That’s why I’m coming back first thing Monday morning - I owe you breakfast.”

“You know there are no cafes open?”

Max smirked and the sight made your heart skip a beat. “Who said anything about a cafe?”

You wanted to know what his plans were but there was a knock at his door and Daniel’s voice reached you through the phone. Max was tempted to let Daniel continue pounding on the door but you both knew he wouldn’t leave quietly and Max groaned at that truth. “Go answer that, I’ll call you in the morning.”

Max dragged his feet as he padded across the room. “I would rather talk to you.”

“Me too.”

“Finish the phone sex already, you pervs,” Daniel shouted through the door before Max ripped it open.

“Oh, oh, yes, Max, don’t stop,” you called out, turning Max’s ears pink as he rushed to turn the phone around and show Daniel the screen and just how fully clothed you were. “Sorry to disappoint you, Danny, no phone sex - this time.”

It was only when Daniel bent over laughing that you saw he wasn’t alone. Charles was out in the hallway with Carlos and Lando, his eyes falling to the carpet when you noticed him.

“We’re getting dinner, you wanna come?” Daniel asked, and thankfully the phone rotated back to Max who looked a little torn at the offer.

“He does,” you answered for him before he could decline just to talk with you a little while longer.

“I’ll call you in the morning, schat.”

“Okay, have fun.”

Charles found nothing to celebrate when the race ended so he made his way home before the rest of the crew even realised it. He thought his weekend couldn’t get any worse after he DNF’d. The only silver lining was that despite his better qualifying, Max had also failed to finish the race. But he still won where it really mattered when it came to you.

Charles pulled into the apartment complex and saw a new sleek black Mercedes AMG parked in one of his many reserved spaces and hope fluttered in his chest. He grabbed his suitcase and darted up the stairwell to his apartment, nearly snapping the key in his haste to unlock the door. That hope turned to ash when he found it eerily silent and every inch of the place perfectly tidy. It was unlived.

The artwork you had purchased still hung on the walls and the shaggy rug he had made love to you on still covered the floor, but the spirit of it all was gone. The colours of the paintings were drained and the temperature controlled air was no longer comfortable. He didn’t even need to go to your room and check, he knew you were gone.

He knew you were gone the moment he saw you on the video call to Max. He had gone with his mother to her new house enough times to know what it looked like, even if it appeared that a rainbow vomited all over the walls. The truth just hadn’t really settled in until he stepped across the threshold and into the house that was once a home.

You had tidied the place as if you were cleaning a crime scene and needed to scrub away all evidence of being there except you couldn’t get it all. You still remained in the pantry cupboards where everything was labelled in your handwriting. You still remained in the linen closet where you folded the sheets and the towels into perfect rectangles. You still remained in the scented candles that sat on the centrepiece of the table.

Charles’ eyes stung as they lingered on the table where the keys to the apartment and the Mercedes sat, right next to his credit card and the picture you kept in your wallet.

Kicking the door closed, he abandoned his suitcase and rushed down the hall. His heart hammered knowing what he would find but he had to check as he pushed open your bedroom door. No, it wasn’t your bedroom anymore, it was a guest room.

The feminine floral duvet his mother had chosen was gone, replaced with a plain white coverlet, and the windows were latched slightly open so whatever scent of yours he may have been able to save had already been cast away to the breeze.

“Fuck!” he screamed as he punched his fist into the mattress. “Fuuuuucckk!!!”

Max must have left before Pierre had finished partying after his shock win. It wasn’t even morning really as the sun was still cresting over the hills, and it was far earlier than you were expecting him. You thought perhaps you were dreaming when you woke to a knock and opened the door to find Max on your front steps.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you asked as you pulled him inside and inspected the bags under his eyes.

“I’m better now,” he said as he wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair. “I told you I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you murmured into his chest before pulling away so you could look into his eyes. “You need to sleep.”

“I’ll be fine, I have plans first.”

“Your plans can wait.” You took his hand and led him through the house to your room that overlooked the mariner. Your blankets were still warm as you nestled under the covers and patted the empty space beside you. “You’re not going to be comfortable in jeans.”

“Five minutes and you’re already trying to get me naked,” he teased as he pulled his shirt over his head before he unbuttoned his jeans.

“I never said naked,” you pointed out. The air froze in your lungs as he pushed them down his muscular thighs and you swallowed at the sight before.

“I’m not wearing boxers.”

“No, you certainly are not.” Your tongue rolled across your lips as you drank in every inch of him, the idea of sleep quickly departing your mind. Almost everything departed your mind, except want. “I think I am overdressed.”

“You make a habit of that.”

“I do, don’t I. Maybe you should come help me fix that.”

Max didn’t need to be told twice, he had been waiting for this moment since he had the memory of how your body felt against his. He pulled the covers back and knelt between your legs, his hands roaming up your body and under the baggy shirt of a band he didn’t know. The morning air was cool on your skin as you lifted your arms and he discarded the shirt over the side of the bed.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured as he traced his lips over your racing pulse. A fiery trail of goosebumps remained where his kiss had been and he made his way to your lips before stealing the very breath from your lungs.

Your own hands went roaming, feeling his muscles tense beneath your touch until you reached his proud erection. He shuddered above you and moaned into your mouth before he pulled back. “I need you,” you begged, unabashedly. “Please, Max.”

His hands reached for your panties and the lace tickled as he dragged them down your legs. Even with your begging, he didn’t immediately bury himself in you. He took his time, settling back between your legs. He gently massaged your inner thighs with his strong hands, his thumbs dancing teasingly close to your core until a strangled whine escaped you.

“Relax, schat,” he said softly. “I’ll take care of you.”

He shifted onto his stomach and dipped his head to your core. You lost the ability to think as he gripped your hips and tugged you right onto his open mouth. A wordless cry filled the room and it took a second to understand it was coming from you as you lost yourself in the pleasure Max was giving you. You knew Max had an internal drive to succeed at everything he did and this was no different. He was determined to taste you completely and drive you into oblivion with his tongue and his fingers before he thoroughly fucked you.

Max looked wild and untamed as you came undone around his fingers and he savoured the taste of you on his tongue as he rose above you. His eyes were dark and his lips swollen, his chin was damp and his smile satisfied.

“Hi,” he chuckled with amusement. “Feeling alright?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, because correlating a conscious thought into words seemed impossible as your body still trembled with aftershocks.

“Would you like a break?”

You reached between your bodies and wrapped your hand around his cock, guiding him closer to your entrance. “No, I want you, Max.”

“Completely sober, right?” he confirmed as the head pressed to your wet core.

“Not quite,” you teased, his brows pinching together at the words, “I’m drunk on you.”

The relief in his eyes was palpable and you cradled his face in your palm as you wrapped your legs around his hips. Your bodies united torturously slowly and your eyes fluttered at the fullness when every delicious inch was seated inside, your lips parting with a heady sigh.

“Open your eyes, schat.”

You obeyed in an instant, watching him watch you before his eyes drifted down your bodies. His lip was pinched between his teeth and he groaned at the sight of your pussy taking him so well, something he made sure to tell you.

“Fuck,” you choked as his words made your cunt clench in response, each thrust burying him deep in your cunt until stars dotted your vision and you were tipped over the edge into another orgasm. “Fuuuckk…”

Six months later. “Babe, have you seen my shoes?” Your voice carried throughout the large penthouse apartment you had moved into with Max when the season ended.

“Here, with your dress,” he called out from the living room.

You followed his voice and found the luggage being neatly stacked by the door. He pointed to the two garment bags hanging from the coat rack and at the bottom of the longer one were your heels, next to his polished dress shoes.

“I packed your coat too,” Max said, kissing your temple as he passed to get the car keys.

With the COVID restrictions being lifted Pascale hadn’t wanted to wait a minute longer for the wedding, so winter nuptials in February was the go. At least they were taking place in Sicily so it would be a little warmer, but of course Max would think to pack a coat for when the temperatures dropped at night. He was always thoughtful like that.

“Did you want a coffee?” you asked as you turned on the machine and put your travel mug under it. It was only a three hour flight on Max’s private jet, but you hadn’t slept well with the knowledge you would see Charles for the first time since Christmas.

Cordial is how you would describe that relationship. The familiarity and intimacy was gone, replaced with standoffish politeness. You were both trying to find where the line could be drawn on a platonic friendship that had the history of more and it was slow going. You didn’t want anything you said or did around him to be misconstrued.

Max made you happy, and just as importantly, Max was healthy for you. You did sometimes wonder if he tried harder to be better because he had witnessed toxic relationships growing up. He knew how that toxicity could poison and break someone so there was a conscious effort in the way he spoke and acted to everyone around him. Even Charles.

That was why he had offered his plane for everyone to use, including Charles and Charlotte. For better or for worse, Charles was going to be a part of your family in less than 24 hours and Max respected that. Like he said, he didn’t care about your past and your future was one with him.

“Schatje,” Max called, one hand on your waist, the other reaching past you to the overflowing mug in the coffee machine. “Everything alright?”

You came back to the present with a few blinks and turned in his arms, surprising him with a deep kiss as you fisted his shirt and pulled him closer. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He pulled back to see your face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said with a shake of your head but he saw right through it. “Everything you’ve done for me…a simple ‘I love you’ just doesn’t seem enough. I can never say it enough.”

Max’s hands cradled your jaw and he dipped his head to indulge in a slow but thorough kiss that had your stomach clenching with a fresh wave of desire. When he pulled back this time he smiled as he found the clear want and need for him written on your face. “It’s enough for me.”

He turned the machine off and poured the ruined coffee down the sink. “I’ll get you a proper coffee on the way to the airport. We should get going, can’t have the best woman be late for the rehearsal.”

“I think dad settled on the term groomsmaid,” you corrected with a laugh. You had nearly cried when he asked you to be his best man, before accepting the honour. It was fitting considering the bridesmaids were Pascale’s sons. “It’s not too late if you want to be a flower girl?”

He grinned and his eyes flicked to the door where the dress you had paraded for him last night hung. “I’m quite happy to sit back and watch.”

“If I recall, you didn’t sit still for long. I hope you have more self restraint for the ceremony.”

“For the ceremony, yes. But as soon as we hit the hotel room you’re mine and that dress will be on the floor, I promise you.”

You bit your lip at the promise, knowing he would keep it just like every other one he had made.

“We should probably go before I do something that makes us very late,” Max groaned, stepping away from your tempting body.

“Ugh, fine.”

The ceremony was more than just a wedding and it represented the joining of the Leclerc’s and the Y/LN’s, something that had surprised you and also made you grateful for having waterproof mascara. You didn’t dare look at Charles when the celebrant spoke about the union of the two families, but Arthur grinned and Enzo winked, your father narrowed his eyes and you laughed.

The celebrant, thankfully, didn’t understand.

The cashmere coat Max had packed hung over the bag of your chair as night fell and you danced with him under the open stars. The only light came from the fairy lights strung around the stone pillars that had survived centuries on the island. His arms kept you warm as you swayed to the music and you spoke quietly to each other in a world of your own.

“Hey, can I, uh, can I cut in?” Charles asked hesitantly.

You took a deep breath as you debated the question, your eyes glancing around and quickly finding Charlotte at a table with Arthur and his girlfriend. You looked at Max to see if it was okay. He just smiled and kissed your cheek, whispering, “I’ll get us a drink.”

Charles waited until Max had made it off the dance floor before offering his hand, the other coming to rest on your waist. The first step was tentative, like he wasn’t sure you were actually going to follow his lead. “You look happy,” he said after a few more steps.

“I am.”

He nodded to himself, looking at Charlotte. “Good. That’s good.”

He looked miserable. “I hope you find real happiness one day.” You were being honest.

“I had it.” And he was being honest too. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I ever really apologised, not properly.”

“It’s fine, if it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have met Max.”

“It was meant to be us, though, right?” His eyes were begging you to agree with him but you had spent sleepless nights poring over the very same question.

“I think our paths crossed to make sure our parents met,” you admitted, smiling at the newlyweds as they danced too. You had never seen your dad happier.

“You really believe that?”

The song came to an end and you found Max returning from the bar with two drinks in his hand. “I have to,” you said as you slipped out of Charles’ arms. You swallowed the lump in your throat and took a step away from him.

“Why?” He took a step closer, only stopping when you took another step back and held up your hand. “Why?”

You took a calming breath and steadied your voice. “Because the alternative would only break my heart again.”

#max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #max verstappen smut #f1 smut

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mapiforpresident · 9 months ago

Note

Hi, I would love a Throuple Fic with Leah and Lia, they and y/n just cuddle and kiss each other in their shared Bed after an intense Arsenal Game, basically pure Fluff

Ty <3

Post-Game Cuddles

Leah x reader x Lia

warnings: none

This is the first blurb I am putting out while I am on vacation for the next week starting tomorrow. Please send in more requests for blurbs or head-canons I have not received that many. Thank you all!!

~~~

"God, I'm exhausted," Leah whined as she flopped onto the king size bed. You let out a laugh at this as you jumped on top of her to which she let out a grunt and shoved you off.

"Babe, you sat in the stands the whole time, we are the ones that played a full 90 minutes," Lia said as she laid down on her side of the bed calmly.

"Its tiring being a wag to the two bestest girls in the WSL," Leah said as she pulled you into her side.

"I'm cold, let me get under the warm covers," you whined to Leah who reluctantly let you out of her hold and all three of you scooting under the warm blankets.

The three of you laid in comfortable silence for a while, enjoying being in you girlfriends' presence and tired from the game.

Leah was laying in the middle, you and Lia each laying a head on one of her shoulders tucked into her side.

You leaned across Leah, and pulled Lia in for a gentled kiss, telling her how much you love her without actually speaking the words.

After a minute of kissing her, you heard your other girlfriend loudly clear her throat looking at you expectantly.

"Sorry, my love, how could I forget about my sexy wag," you said to her as she smirked. She then pulled you in for a kiss that was slightly rougher than your other girlfriend's. They were completely different lovers, but thats why you loved both of them.

Leah than pulled Lia into a long kiss as you tucked your head into the crook of Leah's neck. You wrapped your arm as far as you could reach across Lia's back trying to pull her impossibly closer to you.

"Let's take a nap loves, I'll cook dinner when we wake up and we can watch the lord of the rings while we eat," Lia told the both of you. You and Leah both smiled brightly at the mention of the choice of movie.

You were all out soundly not even five minutes later, loving being in the warm and strong arms of your girlfriends.

#woso x reader #woso #arsenal x reader #arsenal women #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #lia walti x reader #lia walti

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 1 year ago

Text

Studious IV (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) 18+

You continue reading Aemond's diary. As his true feelings for you become ever more clear, can you decipher your own feelings for him?

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: Aemond in his smut writer era (semi-public sex, p in v sex, tiddy suckin', riding, fingering, oral sex f receiving, bad sex)

Author's Note: So sorry for the delay! But this baby is 11K words, so hopefully that makes up for it! Also, I tried for a long time to format this like the others, but tumblr wouldn't let me post it if I did, so the formatting is a little different here.

Read Part I Here - Read Part II Here - Read Part III Here

My Masterlist

Taglist will be done via reblogs (there are simply too many of you to fit here)

Studious IV

You were never setting foot in the library again.

Not after what you just read. Not when you were sure that the mere memory of it would have you bursting into flames the moment you crossed the threshold.

Good gods, only a few entries ago, Aemond could hardly bring himself to write the word ‘cunt,’ and now this? What in the Seven Hells were his advisors – Grand Maester Orwyle, Lord Jasper Wylde, and Prince Aegon – teaching him?

You weren’t sure whether the odd feeling in your stomach was due to how much you ate – an entire meat pie and five tea cakes, all washed down with a pot and a half of raspberry tea – or what you had just read.

Either way, it was not enough to stop you from glancing about your bedchamber to ensure no one was watching you and then rereading the entry from the beginning.

The 16th day in the 5th moon of the year.

I have just returned from the library. Grand Maester Orwyle suggested that I consult a book on anatomy. Since there was no business of court I was required to attend today, I asked one of the librarians to help me retrieve the title after I finished my training.

I also found a few books Aegon recommended, only after I dismissed the librarian – I did not want him to know that I took those. Or that I even knew what they were. Gossip abounds in the capital, and I do not wish to be the subject of more than I already am.

By the titles alone, I am surprised Mother allows them to remain in the Keep. I likely will not read most of them. Aegon has already traumatised me quite thoroughly. I see no reason to allow him to ruin reading for me, as well. Although one title, ‘A Caution for Young Girls,’ seems innocent enough.

But the books are not why I am writing now, when my usual routine is to write immediately before I retire to bed. I just… I need to commit this to paper before it leaves me entirely.

On my way out of the library, I saw her. My wife – if I die tomorrow or in a hundred years, I shall never tire of calling her that.

She has quickly found the more private areas of the library, it seems. I would never have seen her if I had not been considering going there to read myself.

It must mean something that she did not choose just any of the countless hidden places within the maze of the library, but my favourite – a secluded alcove along the western wall. An indicator of our compatibility, perhaps. Or even a sign from the gods?

Had the books I’d been carrying not been so… unsuitable, I would have asked to join her.

No, I wouldn’t have. That would require far more courage than I can summon when I see her.

I just stared at her, watching her face as she read. From where I stood, I could not see what she was reading. But I could see her, and that was enough.

She is so expressive! I saw her both smile and frown in quick succession, and once, her entire face scrunched in displeasure as if she had just taken a bite of lemon! Gods, how can even such an unpleasant expression be so beautiful?

Perhaps I should not have watched her at all, for the longer I stood there, the further my mind drifted. And then, I heard Aegon’s voice, as clearly as if he were standing beside me.

‘Don’t limit yourself to the bedchamber brother, or even the bed! A wall or a table serves just as well. And there is a certain thrill to knowing you could be discovered…’

Damn him. Why did I ever ask for his assistance? I would have been better off enlisting the help of an actual whore! At least then, the vulgarity would not come from the future King. Damn him to the deepest of the Seven Hells.

But that stupid advice echoed in my mind over and over. And against my will and better judgement, an image began to form. A dream – a waking dream.

Though my feet remained planted on the floor, I imagined setting aside my books and joining her in that alcove. She would look up and smile upon hearing my approach, perhaps even giggle at my attempt at stealth.

I would sit beside her and ask what she was reading. I might even ask her to read to me. But I would not let her read for long.

I would kiss her while she read. Not on her lips but all over her perfect face. Her cheeks, her forehead, on the tip of her nose. All just to distract her, to make her laugh. Only when she made so much noise that I feared discovery would I kiss her lips to quiet her and finally claim my prize.

The kiss would not be like in the Sept, or in her chambers that night. Instead, she would kiss me back and open herself to me. I would kiss her, and kiss her, and kiss her. Until we were both out of breath but still wanting more.

Seeing her like that, with her lips swollen and cheeks flushed… I would not be able to wait until we returned to our chambers. I would lift her onto that very table, books be damned.

Like our wedding night, we would not undress. We would be in too much of a hurry.

But even hurried, I would be gentle. I would take the time to prepare her, as Lord Wylde said I must do every time. Doing so makes the experience more pleasurable for the woman, he says. And Orwyle added that her enjoyment makes it more likely that the coupling will be fruitful.

Gods, I hardly care about that anymore. Of course, I want an heir, or several. But I want her more. I want her to feel as much pleasure as I do. To ‘peak,’ as Wylde and Orwyle put it. Aegon uses other words, but I find them too vulgar.

And in the library, making an heir would be the last thing on my mind. Even finding my own pleasure would be secondary. I would use my fingers to prepare her – perhaps get her to peak once before I even enter her?

Aegon says women can find release much more than men can. According to him, he once made a woman peak ten times in one night. I would be more amenable to believing him if he didn’t also claim he did so five times. But maybe he is right about ‘practising’ increasing stamina. Though he has had years of practice, and I have had only two days…

But in the dream world where I have the courage to approach her at all, and the gall to bed her in the library of all places (can you call it ‘bedding’ if it is not done in an actual bed?), I also have that stamina. And the skill to indeed make her peak with just my fingers.

I do not know what sounds she would make, as she was entirely silent on our wedding night, but I would want her to make them. I would want her to make such noise that I would have no choice but to kiss her to quiet her and keep her from drawing the attention of the rest of the library.

Even when I was buried within her, I would kiss her. With one arm wrapped around her hips to hold her steady as I fucked her so hard the table would shake, and the other hand tangled in her hair so I could kiss her just as hard.

I want to kiss her so badly. When I finally go to her again, that is what I will do first.

Once we had both finished – for I would ensure she peaked again with me inside her – I would kiss her more, softly, until our breathing steadied. Then, we would simply take our seats again, and this time, I would read to her.

By all the Seven, what has become of me? To not only have such thoughts but to revel in them as I do?

You didn’t bother reading the rest of the entry again before clutching the diary to your chest and staring at the bed canopy above you as a thousand questions burned through your mind and set your heart racing.

Had he been thinking about that the day he came to you in the library?

Was it what he intended to do, had you not reacted so poorly to his words?

Were you really wishing that he had?

You turned on your side, cradling his diary as you once did a small stuffed pony, and noticed for the first time that night had fallen – you had spent nearly the entire day reading. For a moment, you considered running to Aemond’s chambers. But when you looked back at the journal, there were still more than a dozen ribbons shut in its pages.

And if you went to him just after reading what you did…

Whatever was becoming of Aemond, no doubt thanks to the men he had asked for help in better bedding you, by reading his diary and the most private thoughts and fantasies contained within, it was becoming of you too. For when your eyes drifted closed, Aemond’s dream of the library became your dream as well.

The next several days of entries were almost identical.

Aemond woke at dawn after a night of dreams filled with you. They were not always of a carnal nature. Sometimes he dreamed simply of holding or kissing you. Once, he dreamed about flying with you atop his dragon. You didn’t know whether the prospect was thrilling or terrifying. Perhaps both.

Each day, he broke his fast, trained, then ate a small meal before joining court.

Before joining you.

When he wrote in the diary after dinner and several hours of studying and ‘practising’ (you still could not determine what that meant), he still remembered every little thing you did. You had never spoken at court – it was not your place to. But he had catalogued your every movement and reaction to the business of the realm. Every raise of your brows, every repressed smile, and every curious tilt of your head.

You thought you were quite proficient at maintaining a regal mask of indifference. Your mother had you practice it on the journey to King’s Landing while she commanded your brothers to shout at you the most outrageous things they could think of (much of which she promptly scolded them for when they were done).

But Aemond saw through the mask. Not only that, but he correctly interpreted every movement you made.

He knew that the twitch of your lip when Lord Bolton made a petition was a sign of your marked distaste for the man. He knew the scrunch of your brow upon the reading of a missive from a Pentosi diplomat was you noticing a contradiction from the previous message and realising the diplomat was lying. And he knew that you stiffened every time he looked at you because you were nervous about what he would say or do.

Aemond knew you. Even then.

And yet you had so dreadfully misunderstood him.

The shame of it was enough to make you set down the diary and call for a bath – a private bath, without any of your maids present even in the adjourning rooms. You gave an excuse that you were exhausted and simply wished to remain alone.

But really?

As part of his study of the anatomy book Orwyle recommended, Aemond had drawn a diagram of what lay between a woman’s legs. And annotated it based on the advice of Lord Wylde and Prince Aegon.

You were curious to see – with the aid of a hand mirror – just how accurate the diagram and annotations were.

You awoke the following morning feeling more refreshed than you had since you came to the palace, from both the welcome break in your courtly duties and the exploration you had conducted in the privacy of your bath. Though you were fairly sure you did not reach a ‘peak,’ as Aemond described it, you felt close to the height of something several times. But each time, you panicked at the intensity of the racing feelings within you and withdrew your hand. Still, those few minutes of pleasure were incredibly relaxing.

And as it was Aemond’s notes that allowed you to discover the feeling that your own clumsy attempts had failed to bring, the prospect that you would – eventually – once more join him in his bed became thrilling beyond reason.

In truth, the only thing that stopped you from rushing across the castle the very moment you emerged from the bath was the unfortunate fact that you were still bleeding, though it was light.

More than that, while your body was more than ready to forgive Aemond, your heart and mind were still hesitant. He had hurt you. He made you cry. Reading his diary helped you understand that it had never been intentional. However, you still needed to understand everything before making a final decision on whether to forgive him and if you could, as Aemond hoped in his note, ‘learn to like’ or even to love him.

So, after breaking your fast, you again settled into the couch and turned to the next green ribbon.

The 23rd day in the 5th moon of the year

Were Aegon not my brother and the heir, I would throw him from the top of the Rookery.

‘A Caution for Young Girls’ is no such thing. It is little more than a manual in promiscuity and sin!

But… damn him. It is quite educational.

Unlike the book Grand Maester Orwyle suggested, it is not focused on the science of anatomy or conception. Rather, it is entirely concerned with the pleasure of women. After all, it is the supposedly true story of a woman’s quest for pleasure.

A Wylde woman, if it is to be believed. I may have to ask Lord Jasper about it. Is this why he’s had such success with his own wives?

But that, and indeed the sinful nature of the book itself, is unimportant. What is important is that it may actually be the key to my learning how to pleasure my wife.

It spoke at length of various methods of using one’s fingers. Crooking the fingers while within seems to be crucial, as is locating a ‘sweet spot’ where her walls feel slightly different. That spot, as well as the ‘pearl’ which lays at the top of her sex, is the epicentre of her pleasure.

And, like the others said, preparation is required. This is where the use of the fingers comes into it – as well as various other methods. For example, the book mentions kissing quite often, and not only on the lips. Or the cheeks. Or even anywhere on the face.

I admit the idea, though it is new to me, is quite appealing. The book mentioned several places where women most like to be kissed. The jaw, the throat, behind the ear, the nape of the neck, the collarbone…

There was a spot of ink, as though Aemond’s pen had been resting on the page without moving for a long moment.

…the breasts, and lower.

I do not understand why. Perhaps it is because of Aegon’s incessant comments about the breasts of every woman in the Keep, save our mother and his wife – would that he would also exclude my wife! – but I find myself thinking about her breasts with startling frequency. I did not get to see them on our wedding night after I foolishly forgot to undress her.

There is a story in the book which… well, I find myself wanting to replicate. One which would provide me ample access to her breasts. But more than that, it carries an intimacy which I crave most of all.

When Lady Coryanne was serving as a handmaid to a warlock in Qarth, she often found herself called to help him ‘relax’ after a long day. On such occasions, she would mount him while he sat at his desk and ‘ride’ him while he buried his face in her breasts.

I… it was easy to imagine my wife and me in a similar, though more loving, position. Likely not at my desk, as I don’t actually use it often. But perhaps, here. On my chair by the hearth, where I read my books and write in this diary before bed.

She would come back – for she would be living here, with me, not across the Holdfast and so far away – after a long day. Maybe she would have been in the gardens, or with Mother, Helaena and the children, or in the library for hours. I would have been stuck away from her all day in meetings, court, or training.

Even apart from her for only a day, I would miss her terribly. As I do every hour I do not see her. And she would miss me too.

When she came in, she would press herself against the door as she locked it, then turn to me with a mischievous grin. I would know what she wanted, but I would not play along. Instead, I’d mutter a greeting and turn back to my book, pretending that my blood was not racing at just the sight of her. For I want her blood to be as heated as mine.

You read the last paragraph again, the realisation finally set in that Aemond was about to narrate another of his fantasies. Fortunately, after his previous entry about the library, you decided to be more cautious and had already dismissed your servants until your afternoon meal. You had suspected that there may be more in the diary that was thoroughly unsuitable for prying eyes.

And, thanks to his diligent notetaking, you knew precisely what to do when the feelings such unsuitable words provoked began to burn through you.

You undoubtedly did not want an audience for that…

I would let her tease me, pretending none of it fazed me. When she brushed her fingers lightly across my shoulders, I would not flinch. When she leaned over me further than she would really need to see what I was reading, but wanting me to see that peek of her breasts nearly spilling out from her dress, I would barely look. And when she pressed a kiss, long and slow, to my neck – gods, would I like that too? – I might even pretend it was an inconvenience.

It would vex her that I did not give her the attention she desperately wanted. Not enough to truly anger her, but only enough to make her pout. So that when she took the book from my hands and dropped it to the floor, then sat atop me in the chair with her thighs straddling mine… I would simply have no choice but to grab her little lip as she stuck it out and push it back into place before kissing her.

I would kiss her in every place the book instructs, taking my time to worship every bit of her. I want to drive her as mad as she does me just by her mere existence.

But I know she would not simply let me tease her. She would return each kiss I gave her and more. Atop me, she would roll her hips slowly, purposefully, as if we were engaged in a dance. I would be able to feel her, hot and wet and as eager as me, but each time I rose to meet her, she would pull away.

Gods, am I really wishing for her to deny me? Perhaps practising as Aegon instructed has conditioned me to crave such delays to my satisfaction.

Either way, I think I would break before she did. She is strong-willed, and with as many brothers as she has, I believe she can be quite patient. So, I would beg. I would apologise for trying to tease her and plead for her forgiveness. And for her to…

She would, I hope, without hesitation. She would rise only long enough for her to remove her smallclothes and for me to do away with my trousers. Then, we would both sit again, together, with me gently guiding her down to mount me – Seven Hells, that makes it sound like I’m a horse.

I’ll be whatever she wants.

Again, and as always, I would give her a moment to adjust and make sure she is comfortable. Orwyle’s book said that with well-endowed partners – which, according to the measurements in the book, I am – women may always need that moment.

But I would be glad to give it to her. For it would allow me to unlace her bodice, and like the warlock from the book, I could bury my face in my beloved’s breasts.

I find it hard to imagine what it would be like, how they would feel. Soft, I think. Warm, as she is. And perhaps, if I pressed close enough, I could hear her heart beating.

When I was fully settled within her, would I hear it beat faster? Or would it slow with contentment, knowing she was safe and loved – oh so dearly loved – within my arms. Perhaps it would be like the stories, and I would hear it skip a beat.

Either way, I would be more than content to just sit there, breathe her in, and let her move at her own pace. We would not need to be fast, as we would in the library. In my own rooms – our rooms – there would be no need for hurry. We could just stay there, entwined, or we could move together.

I think I would prefer it slowly. Not even seeking our releases, really. Just… enjoying each other. Enjoying the connection of our bodies, our minds, and our souls. Knowing that we are one, that the gods have made us one, and that nothing can tear us apart.

Although… I do think her legs would get tired after a while. That is something I should perhaps be worried about. Especially if she did want to move, and fast. To seek release.

If she did, I would help her. The book did not detail how, as Lady Coryanne was a servant at the time, but… I could figure it out. I could move my hips up to meet hers, or even lift her on my own? I think doing so with my hands on her hips would give me the most leverage. Or perhaps her rear?

I am very drawn to the idea of holding her close as we reach our peaks. Of feeling her breath on my skin, being close enough to hear each little noise she makes, and the sensation of her gripping me as tight as she can as she comes. Even the thought of her nails digging into me brings a certain thrill. And if I don’t reach my peak with her – which, I think, is very unlikely – we can always continue. Or move somewhere more comfortable if her legs do get tired.

At this point, I think I am more than ready to practice. Of course, this wasn’t my intention when I started writing, but… yes, I am most definitely ready. And anything else I wanted to write about seems inconsequential now.

You dropped the diary onto your heaving chest, the image Aemond’s words had painted still burning in your mind. Seven Hells, you could practically feel his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you to his chest as you moved together, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered words of praise between desperate kisses.

With a hazy smile, you snuggled further into the couch and beneath your blanket. As exhilarating as the descriptions of his desires were, what truly warmed your heart was the way he wrote about you, the two of you together.

The connection of your souls as one? It was exactly what you’d dreamed of when first told of your betrothal. Aemond was what you dreamed of.

Why did he have to stop writing? What in the name of the Seven was he practising that was more important than that?

Frustrated and with your pleasure now truly over, you closed the diary and turned on your side, resigned to simply stewing in your own thoughts for the few hours left until your maids returned.

After a light, solitary afternoon meal, you again dismissed your maids. By this point, they were more than a little suspicious about the titleless book you were reading. But, you insisted that you simply wanted to be alone, for your moon’s blood still plagued you. It wasn’t entirely a lie. You did still have some cramping and a slight headache.

In truth, it was because you knew what would happen in just a few entries – your second night together.

It surely wouldn’t be as thrilling as some of his other fantasies. You knew that firsthand. But after learning what Aemond felt for you, you were desperate to know his side of that night.

So desperate, in fact, that you barely skimmed the following two entries in your haste to reach it. Both primarily had to do with whatever smut he had read in A Caution for Young Girls. The first was a rather exhaustive list of all the ways he wanted to kiss you – and there were far more ways than you were previously aware of.

The second caused your most intense blushing yet, for it was near treasonous! After reading another story of Coryanne Wylde ‘riding’ a man, he fantasised about you riding him while he sat on the Iron Throne. It was an intriguing idea, but it seemed a little too hazardous to tempt you.

Finally, you reached what you had been waiting for.

The 26th day in the 5th moon of the year.

I had hoped not to make an entry today – for I had every intention of spending tonight in my wife’s chambers. But she is there, and tragically, I am here.

Tonight was almost worse than our wedding night.

When I saw her watching me in the training yard today, I thought… she was almost smiling – at me! She had no obligation to be there, and yet she was! She sought me out! She wanted to see me!

I had to bite back a cry of joy and relief. I immediately abandoned the rest of my training, nearly impaling the poor squire with my sword for how hard I threw it at him, so I could rush to the ramparts and greet her.

But when I got there, she was gone. I asked a few of the other lords and ladies that were there, but no one knew where she went. Even after speaking to her, however briefly, I still do not understand why she left.

You felt your cheeks flush with shame. Aemond hadn’t grimaced at you that day – quite the opposite. He had been so excited to see you there, and as usual, you had misinterpreted his reaction.

Or, based on how frequently these misunderstandings occurred, perhaps his expressions were merely indecipherable to normal people. Or, more likely, maybe just to you.

You set his diary down, careful to use one of your discarded ribbons to mark your place, and picked up your own. By this point, you had filled several pages with your reactions to Aemond’s writing – some of it sincere, some bordering on humour.

Yet you had no words to express how sorry you were that you had so thoroughly misjudged him. So you wrote nothing and just kept reading.

When I went to her chambers to check on her, I encountered one of her maids, who told me she had retired early with a headache and would not be joining the family for dinner.

Perhaps I should have gone into her chambers then and asked what was wrong. I knew – or at least suspected – that the headache was a lie. An excuse to allow her privacy. I often do the same, citing my scar. Which, as I told her, is not always a lie.

But if I had gone to her, as I wished. I would not have known what to say. Ask her why she ran from the training yard without speaking to me? Or why she wanted to avoid me and the family? Tell her I’m sorry for the disappointment of our wedding night? Ask Beg for a second chance?

I could not do it. I was tired from training and admittedly still somewhat discombobulated from realising she had been watching me. Though I did make it to her door, I merely touched the handle for a moment before retiring to my own chambers.

Now, after yet another disastrous visit… I should have gone to her earlier. I should have trusted my instincts (as Aegon often encourages me to do) instead of allowing my mind to think itself into an inescapable hole.

As I bathed and redressed, and even while attending court and dinner, I could not stop thinking about her. Agonising over what I may have done to make her flee from me?

I never even considered that she may actually have a headache until I was again at her door after dinner. The fear that I was disturbing her, perhaps making her pain worse, was nearly enough to make me turn and flee.

But then, her voice came, soft and light and so enticing. Of course, I somehow managed to answer idiotically when she asked who it was. Though she lessened the sting of embarrassment with a small joke. She is so achingly clever!

I asked her how she was, and her answer made it evident that the headache was a ruse. I am trying not to be too proud that my deduction was correct. She is not used to lying, nor is she good at it. And it is yet another thing I admire about her.

For hours, I planned what I would say to her. It was eloquent and thoughtful – practically poetry.

The tail of the last ‘y’ extended nearly an inch, and you imagined Aemond just staring at the page, consumed by his thoughts for a moment.

But her room looked different tonight. She finally unpacked.

There is a large tapestry above her hearth depicting her home keep, the field below filled with vibrant pink flowers with bright yellow centres. The same flowers appear nearly everywhere. On framed examples of embroidery, on her curtains, pillows, and even the blanket strewn over the back of her couch.

I must find out what they are, for they are clearly very important to her.

You looked up from the diary, glancing about your room. Indeed, you had not realised how many dog roses decorated your possessions. It was no wonder he guessed they were your favourite.

‘I was quite impressed when you brought me my favourite flower,’ you wrote in your diary. ‘I thought you had somehow read my thoughts. I suppose I made it easy for you.’

She also has a large bookcase in her sitting room, which was specifically requested when her father sent word accepting the betrothal. Since the last time I was in her chambers, she has begun to fill the shelves with books and trinkets. I spotted a small silver bell, a wooden box carved with various birds, and a little glass flower. It was not the same flower that is so prevalent elsewhere in her chambers (this one was a pale purple rather than pink), but still quite pretty.

While pondering that flower, I returned to the couch to compare it to the pink flower on her blanket and saw what she had been reading – “The Last Dragonlords,” my first, and still favourite, history of my house. It is not a particularly rigorous academic work, but I prefer it for the sense of wonder it has for the story of my ancestors.

If, at that point, I remembered any of what I wanted to say to her, the sight of that book, and the knowledge that she was somehow reading my favourite… I lost all words. I fear I fell silent for an uncomfortably long time, for she spoke next.

She wanted to know the reason for my visit. I asked her directly about the ruse of her headache. She seemed nervous, so I told her I do the same and that I often experience lingering pain. I was tempted to remove my patch and show her, but… she was already quite nervous. I did not want to make her more so, or frighten her so thoroughly that she will never warm to me.

What lay beneath his eyepatch that would frighten you so? You had heard many rumours. That his lost eye was nothing more than a pit of darkness. That he had replaced it with a jewel. That an ever-burning fire, fueled by his hatred and rage, burned within.

Despite the stories, you felt a twinge of shame and hurt that, despite his love for you, he did not trust you with seeing him truly bare. He thought you could be frightened away.

Somehow, that shame far overshadowed any curiosity or fear about what lay beneath the brown leather of his eyepatch.

I could already tell it wasn’t going to go how I wanted – she would not meet my eye. So, I offered to leave. I would not impose myself on her when she did not want me to. That is not how I want to start this. Or, start it again.

But she did want me to go! At least, that is what I thought she meant. I am not so sure anymore. She said something about my right to be there as her husband. At the time, I thought it was her shy way of asking me to stay. Now… I think she may have just been repeating something her mother or a Septa taught her.

There was another small patch of angry scribbles.

I’m so stupid! And hardly better than Aegon. No – she may not have been particularly enthusiastic, but I am sure if she genuinely did not want me there, she would have said so. And I would have obeyed. After all, she was quick to ask me to stop some of the other things I tried to do.

She did not like the kissing.

When I first mentioned that I would like to lie with her – which I foolishly reasoned was out of my desire for an heir instead of my desire for her – she simply laid on the bed like on our wedding night. But that is not what I want. I do not want this to simply be a union of duty! At least, not anymore. And I so wanted to kiss her.

So, I beckoned her to me, and she obeyed. My hopes that this would be different were still relatively high. I got closer, touched her face, and asked if I could kiss her.

And she asked, ‘Why?’

I swear that one little word hurt more than any pain I’ve felt in the training yard. Almost more than… well, not quite more than that. But close.

I could not think of any reason other than that she is my wife, and I love her and want more than anything to kiss her. I only told her the former and the latter, for I think if I told her I loved her, she would have been more afraid than if she had seen me without my patch. And the gods must be good, for she said yes.

Then I kissed her. I held her close, and I kissed her.

It was the most wonderful thing! She was soft and warm. And when I laced my hand through her hair, she made the most delightful sound! I could have just kissed her forever.

But then it was over. She shouted and pushed me away. It was… it was just after I tried to use my tongue. I don’t think she liked it.

She asked me why I ‘needed’ to kiss her. She must have disliked it very much.

I had no other explanation than what I had already offered. At least, none that I could tell her without sending her running from me forever. So I stopped and told her I did not need it – the first lie I’ve ever told her.

When she moved back to the bed, I could not help myself. I could not let us be in a marriage where we lie together out of nothing more than duty, fully clothed and anxious to get it over with. It was foolish, and I probably scared her with the request, but I asked her to remove her nightgown. She had already taken off her robe – a massive thing in her house colours that practically drowns her.

You allowed a brief kernel of anger to spark within you, enough for you to pick up your pen and write him another little message in your diary.

‘That robe is dear to me, thank you very much. What is it that makes you hate it so?’

There is nothing more beautiful in the world than her. She puts even the Maiden to shame. I would have been happy to stare at her, to take in that beauty until I had my fill – if I would ever get my fill.

She got on the bed and positioned herself exactly how she was on our wedding night. Not quite how I pictured it, but considering her hesitancy, I did not want to push her.

It took all my control to stop myself from kissing her again when I undressed and joined her. But I did. I also resisted doing anything more than just looking at her breasts.

I sat between her legs and stared at her. While I was more than ready to begin, she was not. At all. Of course, I knew I would have to prepare her, but I hoped she would have had at least some desire for me already.

I started with gentle touches, drawing circles on her thighs. She shivered a bit when I began, but she didn’t ask me to stop. From where I was sitting, I could tell she enjoyed it, even if she didn’t understand it. She did ask me to explain, and my answer was probably lacking – how does one explain why he was so inadequate? – but she gave a small nod when I promised that tonight would be better.

Then I finally touched her where I really wanted to and was delighted to find her… well, not as wet as I’d hoped, but it was an improvement upon our wedding night! I ran my fingers over her entrance, hoping to coax more wetness from her before I truly began. And when I looked at her again to ensure I wasn’t hurting her, she smiled at me!

Encouraged, I kept my fingers at her entrance, not venturing inside yet, but continuing my preparations there while I began to seek her pearl. As the books said, I only had to draw a straight line upward from her entrance to find it.

And, oh, when I found it! Her eyes snapped shut, her back arched off the bed, and the most glorious whine escaped her! It was everything I had imagined and more. Gods, I think I could have peaked just from watching her as I circled her pearl again and again, faster and faster.

But then, she asked me to stop – begged me to.

I thought I must have done something wrong, but she shook her head when I asked if it hurt. And when I asked if it felt good, she would not answer. She merely requested that I get on with what I needed to do and leave, for she was tired. This wound cut even deeper than before with the kissing.

I wanted to prepare her more – I was going to use my mouth on her. To show her how dearly I wish to please her, how much I want to worship and love her, if only she’d let me.

In anticipation of that act, I have been consulting Coryanne Wylde’s various accounts and expert critiques of the act in order to form the perfect strategy.

To begin, I would undress her, as I planned to do on our wedding night, laying gentle, nearly chaste kisses on each new bit of skin I revealed. Once she was bare, I would kiss her. Deeply. To give her a taste of what is to come. Then, I would kiss my way down. Her jaw, her throat, her collarbone, her breasts, and the plane of her stomach.

Once I made it past her navel, I would take her leg in my hand and begin a new trail of kisses upwards. The book says to start at the ankle, but I am too impatient for that – I will begin at the knee instead.

Just when she thought I was finally about to give her what she craved more than anything, I would once again change course to kiss her lips one final time. Then, I would descend.

I would start slowly, experimenting with different tactics to determine what drives her deliciously mad. Once I knew, I would feast. I would devour her like her pleasure was the air I needed to breathe. Like her cries of pleasure were beautiful music, and I would die if it ever stopped.

I would bring her to peak once with my mouth on her entrance. Again on her pearl. Then again and again in whichever way made her scream the loudest.

Only when she was so drunk with pleasure that she could no longer rise to meet my mouth or grasp at my hair would I relent. I would make my way back up to her mouth and soothe her with gentle kisses until she had regained herself and was begging for me to finally fuck her.

But I didn’t get to do any of that.

She asked me to stop, so I did. I pumped myself a little to ensure the disappointment hadn’t rendered me incapable of performing my duty and entered her.

The preparation did help. Entering her was easier, and she did not wince as much as the first time. And she felt even more heavenly somehow. The feeling was so intense that I had to take a moment to remind myself that she only wanted me to finish quickly so she would not have to endure me any longer.

So, I fucked her. I did not make love to her, as is my true desire. I just fucked her, like she was just any woman and not the love of my life.

And then, a miracle! I thrust into her, something about the angle allowing me in quite deep, and she reacted. She gasped, breathless, and her hips snapped up to meet mine. I froze in surprise and elation. I found her ‘sweet spot!’

But when I smiled at her, she turned away and refused to look at me again.

I just kept going. I did not try to hit that spot again, so as to not upset her further. I finished as quickly as I could and left the bed.

It was stupid of me, but I turned back to her after dressing. Everything had gone so horribly, but I still love her. I still need her. So I could not just leave her like that.

I asked if I could kiss her again. She let me. I was quick, as promised.

Then I came back here, once again alone and no closer to earning her love than I was before.

I must meet with my advisors again tomorrow. Perhaps they can help me understand why I keep fucking this up so badly when all I want is for her to let me love her the way I want to and for her to love me in return.

Your heart ached so severely that you thought there might be bruises when you looked down at your chest. But there was just skin – skin that Aemond would have happily kissed, had you let him.

As horrible and confusing as that night had been for you, it had been so tenfold for Aemond. He had wanted a grand, romantic evening, and you had greeted him with only coldness and suspicion.

He called you ‘the love of his life.’ You ran your finger over those words so many times that they became smudged, then went to write something in your diary but halted with your pen hovering over the paper.

What could you write to match what he’d said about you? Even if you could, would it really be true? How many times could you say, ‘I’m sorry?’

Well, at least one more time. ‘I’m so sorry, Aemond,’ you wrote, ‘I didn’t know, and I was still scared. Not of you, but of what I thought my life was to be. If you had only told me… I do not blame you, I swear. I just wish the both of us had been more honest with each other.’

You were far too exhausted to continue. It was not yet midafternoon, and you had already been from the near-heights of carnal pleasure to the depths of your despair that the unfortunate state of your marriage was, in actuality, mostly your fault.

So, after setting Aemond’s diary aside, you picked up your embroidery basket and began to work while your mind wandered.

It was only when your maids arrived to bring you dinner that you realised that, somehow, the dog roses you intended to make had become a sprawling wisteria vine.

You dreamed of the castle garden in late spring when all the flowers were in bloom. As you walked down the garden path, you saw every colour imaginable amongst the vibrant greens. But there was only one flower you really wanted to see – and the man you knew would be waiting for you beneath them.

Just as the first purple tendrils came into view, the dream faded, and you woke to see the first hints of dawn still beneath the horizon.

Drawing your blankets over your head, you squeezed your eyes shut and stubbornly tried to fall back asleep and return to your dream – to no avail. You were well and truly awake. And it would be some time before your maids came to dress you for the day.

So, dragging the blanket from your bed with you, you trudged back into your solar and settled into the couch before picking up Aemond’s diary again.

The 27th day in the 5th moon of the year

I met with Lord Wylde, Grand Maester Orwyle, and Aegon this morning. They had advice, but it was not as… straightforward as I had hoped. There is no simple trick to get her to love me. Nothing I can study from a book and then implement with assured success.

I have to woo her. I have to be witty and pleasant and charming and… romantic.

I do not think this is going to work.

Especially not after my first attempt was so disastrous.

Lord Wylde asked that I tell him about her, so I did. When he learned she enjoys reading as much as I do, he suggested I try to find common ground there. So, I went to try and find her in the library.

She was exactly where she was the last time I saw her there, still reading “The Last Dragonlords.” I watched her for a moment, savouring the look of contentment on her face as she read, as well as a few quick reactions to the book. How I love it when her nose scrunches in displeasure!

‘That is quite the odd thing to fixate on,’ you wrote in your diary. It seemed a decent night’s sleep had helped recover some of your humour. ‘What is it, in particular, that you like about my scrunched nose?’

She did smile at me when I approached, but I think she thought I was a Maester, for her smile faltered when I greeted her. And she was so shy. Usually, when I struggle to find the right words, she breaks the silence. Today, she did not.

At least it gave me time to remember why I came to the library. She was still reading “The Last Dragonlords,” so I told her it was my favourite and asked if I could join her. I think she was somewhat embarrassed about reading a children’s book, but I assured her it was no matter and that I would nonetheless enjoy reading it with her, and she allowed me to sit with her.

My plan was to sit with her, discuss the histories, and perhaps, in time, hold her hand as a first step toward genuine affection. But the plan quickly went awry.

It all happened so fast that I don’t even remember exactly what I said. But somehow, I insinuated that she was not intelligent enough to understand the book. The book meant for children – young children.

She was very upset with me. Rightfully so! Still upset enough that she stormed out of the library after making several cutting remarks that proved that she is, in fact, quite intelligent.

After several minutes and a brief reprimand from one of the Maesters, I finally gathered myself enough to realise that she had left the book there. As well as several pages of notes.

Of course, the noble thing would have been to not look and ask a servant to return them to her. But in that moment, I was desperate, not noble. So, I looked.

Her notes were beautifully organised and remarkably thorough – the work of a true scholar! She even crafted a beautiful family tree all the way through Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters. Had I not fumbled our initial interaction so entirely, we would have had a wonderful discussion.

You had feared him finding the notes, but you had never considered that he would be impressed rather than arrogantly amused. It made sense now that you knew his true nature. Perhaps, once whatever was between you was resolved, you could have that discussion.

In all honesty, there were a few questions you had that you hoped he would be able to answer. Not least of which being why in more than a thousand years, Targaryens had only come up with a dozen names that they repeated over and over again. You wrote as much in your diary.

It was useless for me to sulk in the library, agonising over what I should have said, so I gathered the book and her notes and left the library.

An apology was more than necessary, so I went to Aegon’s rooms. After all, there is perhaps no one with more experience apologising to women. Even if his apologies are self-serving.

When I arrived, I found Mother had already found Aegon first, and was well into another tirade about his behaviour. Normally, I would be happy to watch Mother yelling at him, but I did not feel I had time to. And Aegon was glad that I granted him a reprieve.

Admittedly, I had not wanted to admit to Mother that my wife and I were… not as close as I wanted. But, as she always is, she was eminently understanding, and far more helpful than Aegon was. His only suggestion was to bring her something nice – jewels, silks, or the like.

On the other hand, Mother gave me sage advice on what to say when I go to her. As my words have been my primary point of failure, I was very grateful for this. She did also say that a gift would not be amiss. An ‘offering of peace,’ she called it. But she advised something personal, not luxurious. If the gift is too valuable, she says, it will seem as if I am trying to buy her forgiveness rather than earn it.

I knew immediately what I should get her. I thanked Mother (and Aegon) and left at once for the gardens.

I found them – the flowers she loves so dearly. Dog roses, they are called. Unfortunately, they do not grow well in our climate, but the Maester’s managed to coax a few to bloom with their various potions and other horticultural creations.

They are almost as beautiful as her.

The Maester I spoke to said that it would be best if I had them cut just before I brought them to her, to preserve their beauty. So that is what I will do.

I will not practice tonight. At least… not that kind of practice. Instead, I will rehearse my apology. I cannot fail tomorrow.

You winced slightly, knowing that the next day would not go as Aemond planned and feeling as though it was your fault. But there was no changing that now. And you had already apologised – often and profusely.

So, you wrote only a simple note: ‘I don’t recall seeing dog roses on our tour of the gardens. Did you pluck them all?’

Looking back at his diary, you took a deep, steadying breath. Only two ribbons left.

The 28th day in the 5th moon of the year

I am the stupidest, most idiotic man in all the seven fucking kingdoms.

All I was trying to do was apologise to her for my unkind – though unintentionally so! – words in the library, but somehow it ended with her crying and me fleeing from her chambers yet again.

You cringed at the memory, almost not wanting to read on.

Aegon gladly offered his explanation, even after I told him I did not want it. He insists that I have so thoroughly repulsed her that she cannot help but burst into tears at the sight of me.

Mother thinks that she is just missing her family and her home, as she said. That she is overwhelmed by being alone in a strange place, and the familiar sight of the flowers – dog roses, as I have learned – brought those feelings to bursting.

Perhaps Mother is right. But her parents left a fortnight ago, and she has shown no other signs of homesickness. And she is not alone! She has the other ladies of the court to talk to, and Helaena and Mother adore her. And me.

If she came to me, I would do anything to cheer her. Not that she would seek comfort from me, no matter how dearly I wish she would. She certainly won’t after today.

After the disaster in the library yesterday and the scolding I received from Grand Maester Orwyle after my training this morning, I knew beyond a doubt that I needed to apologise. I… the shame I feel for having played any part in the state Orwyle described her in is unbearable.

So, I went to the gardens and had a Maester cut the flowers for me and arrange them in a simple bouquet.

She was on her couch when I arrived in her rooms – still in her nightgown and that robe. And again, she did not look at me. She had eyes only for the flowers. I thought then that they had been the right choice.

I apologised, but she did not react. She still just stared at the bouquet. So, I went ahead with the rest of my apology.

Then she touched my hand. It startled me, and I pulled away from her on instinct, dropping the bouquet in her lap. She looked at them like I had dropped a helpless kitten rather than flowers!

And she started crying. Softly, the tears welling in her eyes for a long moment before spilling over. I do not understand what I did to upset her. I said only what I had planned last night. It was so hard to resist brushing the tears away, but she seemed nearly volatile, and I did not want to make things worse.

‘I miss home,’ she said, finally.

It did sting that she does not consider King’s Landing and her life with me her home – it still does. But she is hundreds of miles away from the family of her birth, from the people who have undoubtedly treated her better than I have. I cannot blame her.

I apologised again for upsetting her and left.

At dinner, I had planned to ask Mother and Grandsire if we could find a way to send her home, at least for a little while. So she could be happy. Perhaps I could even go with her. I might have an easier time talking to her without the pressures of my family and the capital upon me.

You smiled at the thought of Aemond at your home keep. Of him in all his black leather among the fields of dog roses. Talking with your father in the library. Him training with your brothers – you were confident he could defeat any one of them alone, but knowing your brothers, they would absolutely gang up on him.

‘One day,’ you wrote, ‘I would love to show you my home.’

I was waiting for the opportunity to ask when she arrived! After this afternoon, I did not think she would come to dinner, but she did! I could have wept for my relief.

And when I offered my hand to her, she took it. Not only that, but she squeezed it – hard. I think believe it was her way of accepting my apology.

She did not speak during dinner, nor did anyone ask her too many questions. Aegon was his typically infuriating self, silently encouraging me to do something with her. What he expects me to do when in front of the entire family, I do not know.

After the meal, I offered to escort her back to her chambers, which she accepted. And once we were alone, she thanked me for the flowers!

It was going unusually well. That is, until I decided to open my mouth. I only meant to compliment her, as she did look quite beautiful, but… I just kept talking. And then I had suddenly insulted her gown from yesterday and her robe.

She closed herself off from me then, shoving away my arm. Why could I not just shut up? I know my words are the source of so many of our misunderstandings, yet I keep talking! At this point, I am strongly considering a vow of silence.

‘Please don’t take a vow of silence!’ you wrote, scrambling for your diary as if it mattered how quickly you got the words down. ‘Your voice is far too lovely for me to never hear it again.’

Tomorrow, I am going to try a suggestion from Lord Wylde. Show her that I am not a failure in everything I do. I pray it works.

You turned the page, expecting to find the entry for the next day, but there was none. There had been a page between the entries for the 28th and the 30th, but it had been sloppily torn out. All that remained was the beginnings of the date in the upper corner.

It was entirely against what you knew of Aemond. The man who had dutifully started his journal on the first day of the year and began each entry on a new page would not do something like this.

What had upset him so? Had you said something to him?

No, of course not. The only time you had seen him that day was in the training yard, and you hadn’t spoken to each other, not after… not after he stormed off. Had he actually been hurt in his fight with the Kingsguard? Or was he just embarrassed that you had witnessed him fall?

Gods, how you wished you had gone to him that night. But perhaps you could make up for it now.

‘After you were absent for dinner,’ you wrote to him in your diary, ‘I almost came to your rooms. I was worried for you. Though I confess, that was the only reason I found myself walking toward you… I missed you, at dinner. I missed you helping me into my chair. I missed your smile. I missed the way you’d hold the plates for me. Most of all, I missed your voice, and your presence next to me.’

You sniffled slightly, staring at a lamp on your wall to dry the tears that were forming before finishing the entry, ‘I’ve missed you these past days, as well. But I’m almost done. I’ll see you soon.’

The 30th day in the 5th moon of the year

I have made my gravest sin yet. And my most foolish.

We had the perfect morning together in the gardens. Silent, mostly, but perfect. She smiled at me! She allowed me to lead her through the gardens on my arm. It was… precisely what I had hoped for.

Until I once again acted like an absolute fucking fool.

Before I had to leave for court, I asked if I could come to her rooms that night. And for one perfect moment, I really believed she was going to say yes.

But then she mentioned her moon’s blood, and I just… panicked. I am not entirely an idiot (though I become less sure of that declaration with each passing moment), I know what that means.

It means that I’ve failed her. In even more ways than I knew.

I have made her miserable. I have made her cry. I have failed in every duty of a good husband, including the most basic of tasks – I have not given her a child.

I cannot go on like this – trapped in an endless cycle of misery where I can do nothing but hurt the both of us. I must do something to free us from this.

It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t love or even like me. I just want her to be happy. If that means that I never get to see her or love her again, I will make myself accept that.

First, she needs to know why I’ve acted this way. To know my true feelings so she can decide what she wants me to do. Gods, if she wanted me to go to Essos and never return, I would.

A blot of ink covered half the page, as though he had simply set his pen down while he thought.

I know what to do. I just pray she understands.

“I understand,” you said aloud, as though Aemond were before you. But, of course, he wasn’t. He was halfway across the castle, a distance that suddenly felt like the Narrow Sea itself. Throwing down your blanket, you shouted for your maids to dress you at once, your morning meal be damned. The moment finished tying off the last lace of your gown, you ran.

You had only been shown where Aemond’s chambers were once – on your first tour of the Holdfast. Then, you did not know whether to be disappointed or thankful that they were far from yours. Now, as your nervousness flooded through every part of your body, you hated the distance more than anything.

Each step was an effort, as with every one, your legs felt heavier and heavier, as if they were made of iron. Your blood felt as though it was rushing dangerously fast, carrying with it a marked chill. Despite feeling frozen within, sweat still somehow beaded at your brow. Yet you could not wipe it away, for your hands were all but stitched to the two diaries you carried.

Was this a terrible idea? Would Aemond laugh at you for all your silly little notes? Would he be angry with you for taking days to fulfil his request? You came to a halt in the middle of the corridor, tears prickling in your eyes as you considered so many horrible possibilities.

No, you thought, the word echoed by the impact of your foot on stone as you took a heavy, sure step forward.

The Aemond you thought you knew would do those things. But that Aemond wasn’t real – and never was. He had only ever lived in your terrified imagination.

The real Aemond was the one who had been so awestruck upon first seeing you that he could not say anything other than your name. Who had fallen for you so quickly and with such intensity that he forgot how to act like a proper person and instead stumbled over his words and actions like a drunk man through a crowded alley. Who had been so desperate for you to return his affections that he swallowed his pride to seek help. And who had finally given you his diary when he could think of no other way to show you how he really felt and who he truly was.

It was the thought of finally meeting that Aemond that made you put one foot in front of the other, faster and faster, until you were sprinting down the halls, only stopping when you came to the door you had seen only once before – his door.

You did not understand how you had found it again after only seeing it only once before. Nor did you remember knocking on the smooth, dark wood.

But then you heard footsteps approaching.

Hastily, you transferred the diaries to one hand and wiped the sweat from your brow with the sleeve of the other. You wanted to straighten your hair, for it had surely come loose from its braid after running so fast. But there was no time for that.

There was the dull, metallic sound of the door being unlatched, and then there he was.

Aemond stood before you, breathing heavily himself as though he, too, had been running. His silver hair was mussed, and there were smudges of purple beneath his widened eyes – his eyes.

He was not wearing his eyepatch.

Your mouth fell open at the sight. At least one of the rumours had been true. Beneath the raised, rough skin of his scar, in place of his lost eye, was a brilliant blue sapphire. It suited him perfectly and was perhaps the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

He looked at you for a moment, the corners of his mouth lifting in a hesitant smile before realising what had caught your attention so thoroughly.

“Oh gods,” he whispered, covering the sapphire with his hands and turning away. He took a few steps into the room before speaking again. “I did not mean for you to see this. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. Please…”

You said nothing. Silently, you moved into the room and shut the door. Aemond stared at you, his good eye watering as you approached him.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again. “You should not have had to – ” He startled when you brought your free hand up to his wrist and started trying to tug his hand away from his face. “What are you…?”

When your only response was to continue tugging, he relented, allowing you to lower his hand. He swallowed thickly, fixing his good eye on the wall behind you instead of at you. Seeing his shyness, and now knowing it for what it was, almost made you smile.

But your own shyness took hold of you as you guided his hand down and wrapped it around the spines of the twin journals you held. When you looked back up at Aemond, he was staring at them and the green ribbon that now marked a page within your diary.

“I don’t understand,” he breathed, tightening his hold on the books.

With a slight smirk, you gazed up at him and dropped your hand from the diaries. “It’s your turn.”

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irisintheafterglow · 4 months ago

Text

heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: sabrina carpenter - "please please please"

summary: a school assignment leads you to team bofurin. a chance meeting in the cafe leads you to umemiya. where else will furin high lead you over the course of 5 days?

wc: 7.5k (lord have mercy)

cw/tags: umemiya hajime x gn journalist!reader, strangers to lovers, swearing/explicit language, brief canon-typical violence, blood, and peril, angst/fluff and injury hurt/comfort, ume's a gentleman but that gets tested lol

note: friends this is the longest thing i have ever posted here and i was really debating not posting it because i didn't like how it was turning out, but then i just pushed through the rest of it...and it became 7 thousand words.....ANYWAY really hope you enjoy !

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <33

— Day 1 of 5: “Please, please, please // Don’t prove I’m right”

A glass bottle shatters on the sidewalk below you, shadowy figures scattering into dark alleyways like rats. You grimace at their sadistic laughter and silently thank your host for not living on the ground-level. The sound of a shaking spray paint can echoes in the empty street and you watch a messy hot pink insignia appear as it's drawn on a shop window. Damn. This was going to be a long five days.

“Wait, you want me to do what?”

“You’ll be staying with a high school friend of mine who owns a store in the area,” your journalism teacher continues, quickly scanning over a student’s document and grading it without blinking. She swipes to the next document, mechanically repeating the same process of grading it and moving on. She doesn’t stop to see the shock on your face.

“Ma’am, I don’t know–”

“You’ll be fine, just stick to the populated areas and don’t go out at night. If you want to, you could even befriend some of those Furin kids,” she says as she absentmindedly clicks away at her keyboard. “It’ll be good for you to report on something other than the mathletes team, for once.” At least the mathletes are safe, you think to yourself. A little awkward, but nowhere near the delinquents at Furin.

“Hold on, may I ask why I’m the one doing this?” You wring your hands nervously, glancing at the afternoon sun sinking outside the classroom window. “I don’t understand why you’re asking me–”

“You want the full-ride scholarship, don’t you?” Her eyes are beady through the thin rims of her glasses. You fight the urge to shrink away from her piercing gaze, one that you never become accustomed to no matter how many times you’re subject to it. “Trust me when I tell you that the judges will not care how many times the mathletes lost, no matter how eloquently you write about it.” You let your skepticism show on your face.

“But they’ll care about a bunch of boys that get into fights every day?” If she cares about your deadpanned comment, she doesn’t acknowledge it.

“My friend told me once or twice that there’s more to those Furin boys than meets the eye,” she says before turning back to her screen. Your confusion is still obvious, but the only help your teacher gives you is an indifferent shrug. “It’s up to you. But if you want a competitive edge, you need to take more risks.” You exhale, weighing your options and ultimately deciding that your career was more important.

“When do I start?”

You begin your morning early on your first day in Makochi. After leaving your host’s apartment and staring at the graffiti-covered high school that was drowning in plant overgrowth, you abruptly turned on your heel and decided to observe the people on the busiest street. You had no interest in exploring Furin High School itself, only the effects of crime and constant fighting on the uninvolved citizens. You catch a group of boys wearing black jackets heading in the same direction as you and duck into the nearest cafe, hoping to wait them out and watch how they interact with the town. Across the street, the owners of the shop that was vandalized with the pink insignia scrub the paint from the glass.

“Good morning.” A girl with short brown hair greets you behind the counter, gesturing for you to take a seat on one of the stools. You thank her and set your notebook down next to you, flipping through the menu when you feel her staring at you. “Are you new here?”

“I’m in town for a few days,” you reply. Her demeanor is friendlier than you would expect from an area that sees so much violence. “I’m from one of the neighboring high schools.” The girl nods, placing a cup of water in front of you, along with a set of chopsticks.

“Are you visiting family? We don’t get many visitors here, so I’m just wondering what a new face is doing in town,” she says, nodding when you point at the menu item you want for breakfast.

“No family here; I’m actually studying the town for an assignment. My teacher thinks that if I write about this town, it’ll help me get a scholarship.” Her mouth opens in an ah of understanding and she ducks into the refrigerator to retrieve some eggs. An idea pops into your brain and you open your notebook. “While I’m here, do you mind if I ask you a few questions about Furin High?”

“Sure. Bofurin members eat here all the time.” Your eyebrows draw together and, unlike your journalism teacher, she understands and addresses your lack of knowledge. “Bofurin is the team that protects this town. It’s made up entirely of students at Furin High School. Actually, it’s a little funny that you stopped into here today, of all places, since–”

“Kotoha!” The door flies open and the same group of boys that were behind you on the sidewalk corral into the cafe, the space suddenly too small for the number of people present. The source of the voice, a tall guy with bright white hair and coattails attached to his jacket, approaches the girl behind the counter with a blinding smile. “Did you miss me?”

“No,” Kotoha deadpans, sending you a sympathetic look as more boys file into the cafe. “I was gonna say that you chose the one day Umemiya treats all his underclassmen to breakfast. Umemiya’s the leader, the tall idiot I was just talking to.” You grimace and begin to jot down what little information you’d learned about Furin, covering the side of your face with your hand and hoping none of the students question why you were there. It’s wishful thinking, unfortunately.

“Oi.” You’re snapped from your brainstorming daze by a boy whose hair and eyes were two different colors. He was watching you write like you were plotting how to demolish the high school and you curse your luck for the millionth time that you picked the one cafe the Bofurin team frequented. “Who are you and why are you here?”

“Sakura, you can’t just say that to strangers. Tell them you’re sorry,” Kotoha, the girl behind the counter, chides. The boy’s cheeks turn pink and he turns away, muttering what sounds like a half-assed apology to you. “Don’t mind him,” she says to you with a warm smile. “He’s terrible around new people.” Sakura’s face twists into indignation.

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are. You got into a fight on your first day here, and school hadn’t even started yet,” points out another student with blonde hair sitting next to a boy wearing dangling earrings and an eyepatch. You’re quick to write down anything and everything you were hearing, picking up pieces of conversation from the tables around you. “Hey, what are you writing?” The question doesn’t come off as accusatory, but you shut your notebook anyways and guard it like a treasure chest.

“It’s nothing. Just homework,” you force out.

“Homework,” the boy with the eyepatch echoes. “So, you live around here?”

“They go to a neighboring highschool,” Kotoha explains before you have the chance to speak. “They’re actually here to study Bofurin.” All three boys turn to you expectantly, as if you were going to interview them on the spot.

“I’m just here to observe,” you say quickly, rubbing the back of your neck. “I’m not here to interfere or get in your way or anything.”

“Who said you would be getting in the way? I’m sure Umemiya wouldn’t mind–”

“I wouldn’t mind what?” You jump, the same guy that called Kotoha’s name upon entering the cafe appearing like a ghost between you and the boys you were conversing with. “Have you three ordered yet? You need to eat! We have a big day today,” the person you assume is Umemiya instructs the boys. To your surprise, they’re quick to nod their assent and place their orders. “Good. Now, what was it I wasn’t going to mind?”

“There’s someone here to study us,” the half-and-half haired kid mutters, pointing in your direction. Like before, the two other students scold him for his brashness.

“Don’t say it like that, Sakura.”

“It makes it sound like we’re animals in a documentary.”

“Study us?” Umemiya ignores them and turns to you with a curious look. “Why?” Your face heats and you hastily close your notebook again, hoping that Kotoha would be done with your food soon so you could vacate the cafe and avoid it for the rest of your stay.

“It’s for an assignment for school,” you reply hesitantly.

“You don’t need to be so humble,” Kotoha calls over her shoulder from the stove. “You can tell them it’s for a scholarship.” The three boys next to Umemiya gape at you in awe, but you can’t help feeling the slightest bit embarrassed that you drew so much attention to yourself on your first day in town. You didn’t know much about the Furin boys except for their reputation as fighters, and you expected Umemiya to turn you away and kick you out on the spot.

“I’ll be out of town in a few days, so you don’t need to–”

“You can shadow us.” What the hell did he just say? You blink at him, unsure if you hallucinated his words or if he actually said them. Umemiya’s face suddenly turns a shade redder and he turns to his three underclassmen, whispering uneasily, “That is the term for it, right?”

“I think so,” the blonde one whispers back. “Suo, you’re better with words. What does it–”

“You want them to follow you around and see how you guys work,” Kotoha says as she brings you your meal in a to-go container. “That’s what ‘shadowing’ means.” Umemiya thanks her with a thumbs-up before turning back to you.

“What she said. Come with us as we go through our daily routines so you really understand what we do.” You start to stutter out a list of fake reasons why you couldn’t, something along the lines of getting in their way and needing to take a fish to the veterinarian. Umemiya doesn’t budge and sees through your nerves like glass. “You won’t be inconveniencing us at all, I promise. If anything, it’ll be good for more people to have an understanding of Bofurin.”

“Yeah. If you just watch us from the outside, your writing’s not gonna be any good,” Sakura says bluntly. The two boys next to him flinch and cover their faces.

“You should stop saying things like that, Sakura,” the boy with the eye-patch warns.

“Like I said,” Kotoha mumbles in passing. “Don’t pay him any mind. He’s just like that.”

“So, what do you say?” Umemiya grins at you in a way that unwillingly makes your heart rate increase and, before your mind knows it, you’re nodding in agreement and he settles on the stool next to you. “Great! Before we start, do you mind if I ask you about yourself?”

— Day 2 of 5: “I know I have good judgment // I know I have good taste”

It’s 7:00 am when Umemiya appears outside your door.

“Good morning! Did you sleep well? I know yesterday was a lot, so hopefully we didn’t scare you too badly.” You rub your eyes and manage to give him a sleepy ‘good morning,’ trying to shake off the exhaustion after running around the previous day with Bofurin. The moon was hanging high by the time Umemiya dropped you off at your host’s apartment and you thought you were hearing things when he said he’d be back in the morning to pick you up. “We’re not gonna have time to stop by the cafe, so I picked up something for you to eat.” You open the small paper bag he hands you to find a pastry wrapped in a napkin, slightly squashed from the walk. “Do you have everything?”

“Yes, I do. This is really nice of you Umemiya,” you say as you fall into step next to him. He shrugs and waves you off, but you catch the self-confident upturn at the corner of his mouth. Why you were staring at his mouth in the first place could not be waterboarded out of you.

“Don’t mention it. What’d you think of yesterday? Oh, wait. Let me take this from you so you can eat.” Before you can stop him, he reaches over and carefully slides the strap of your bag from your shoulder and hoists it onto his. Surprised, you thank him again, something that you found yourself doing a lot since you met him. It wasn’t like you were trying to overstate your gratitude, Umemiya just kept doing things for you; on your first day, he did everything from crouching down to tie your shoe to herding you toward the side of the sidewalk, away from the busy street. So far, Bofurin was nothing like you’d previously imagined.

“There’s a lot more structure in place than I thought there would be,” you answer, taking a few bites of the pastry. After Umemiya gave you a proper introduction to first-year class captain (and your self-proclaimed #1 skeptic) Sakura, he also introduced you to Suo and Nirei, the two boys that were with him. The rest of your first day was a flurry of meetings and broadcast announcements from the top of the school, mixed with an unexpected amount of pot transplanting on the roof. “I didn’t realize there would be such a clear hierarchy of power…or a community garden.”

“You thought we were just a bunch of kids who got into fights every day?”

“Yes–wait, no!” Your face burns while you backtrack and try to explain yourself. Umemiya doesn’t hear it and simply chuckles at your slip. “Okay, fine. Yes, I did think you were a bunch of kids that got into fights every day. But,” you pause, taking a look at the pastry in your hand. “There’s obviously more I need to learn.”

“That’s alright,” Umemiya beams. The sun starts to peek over the roofs of the little stores and houses, painting Furin High golden as you approach. “That's why I’m here. Oh, and before I forget, give me your phone.” You watch as he dials his contact information in, even taking a picture of himself for the contact photo. “What do you think?”

“Wow, you look great. Thanks for doing that for me.”

“Of course. Now you have a direct line to me in case you ever need anything!” He has a cute smile, speaks an unprompted voice in your head that you’re quick to silence. You’re about to tease him about being so friendly with strangers when you catch sight of a smear of hot pink running across the bricks beside you. Umemiya’s smile fades as you walk past the metal garage door of a food vendor, it too becoming the victim of the same pink marking you saw on your first night.

“That’s the second one I’ve seen now.” His eyes are narrowed when you turn to him. He’s not focusing on what you’re saying; you can tell by the way the muscle in his jaw clenches that he’s running analyses like a supercomputer. “Do you have any idea who’s doing this?”

“There hasn’t been word of a pink team in ages, let alone one that has the audacity to come on Bofurin territory and claim it,” he says quietly.

“They’re trying to take it from you?”

“Keyword ‘trying.’ Doesn’t mean they’ll be successful.” The darkness of his expression disappears in a blink and you’re met with a self-assured grin. “Ah, well don’t worry about it. We handle this kind of stuff all the time,” he reassures you, readjusting your bag over his shoulder and starting again down the sidewalk.

“How often do you deal with stuff like this?”

“Weekly, probably,” he shrugs and you make a mental reminder to write it in your notebook.

“Are people just looking for a fight because you’re the strongest team, or is it something else?” Your mind momentarily brings you back to sitting across from the mathletes team in the school library, giving them food for thought and jotting down their responses. It was a little different, asking questions of Umemiya, but the familiar feeling of seeking answers is comforting muscle memory.

“I don’t have a concrete answer for you, honestly,” he admits. “But, my theory is that people don’t like what we do here. We protect the town and discourage people from doing unethical things. People simply don’t like being told what they can’t do.” You nod, trying your best to remember everything he’s saying. It made sense why smaller teams would want to take down the most powerful team in the area, but the morality side and restricting the actions of others because they harm the townspeople was something you didn’t expect to also play into the situation. “Are you going to interview any other teams here?” You shake your head.

“I wasn’t planning on it. The answers that you’re giving me now are more than I could have hoped for,” you answer and you catch his satisfied smirk out of the corner of your eye. “Do you think I should study other teams?”

“You don’t need to. You fit in better with us, anyway.”

— Day 3 of 5: “Whatever devil’s inside you // Don’t let him out tonight”

Reports of the hot pink marking become more frequent the longer you stay with Bofurin, both for sightings on shop windows and shadows sneaking around alleyways just out of patroller’s lines of sight. The more teams Umemiya sent out to paint over the vandalism, the more sightings increased. To you, it was an indicator of growing tensions between Bofurin and surrounding, envious teams.

To Umemiya, it was Wednesday.

“We have a collaborative meeting with another team, Shishitoren, today,” he informs you on the walk from your host’s apartment to the school, your bag swinging weightlessly on his shoulder. “I’d like for you to join us, but it’s ultimately up to you.”

“Do you have a history with them?” The team leader’s eyes space out and he blinks once, then twice, before coming back to the present.

“Yeah…you could say that,” he chuckles. “Just don’t ask Sakura about his first one-on-one with them. He gets defensive.” You stifle a grin.

“Oh, did he lose?”

“He won, actually,” Umemiya corrects, equally as amused as you, “Which is the part he gets mad about, so you should probably steer clear of the subject all together.” You nod, interviewing Sakura being nowhere in your plans. “Suo and Nirei will be able to give you all the info you need, though,” he says quickly, mistaking your silence for discontent. “And of course, you could always ask me too.” He smiles at you and something in your brain short-circuits.

Ever the professional, you try not to think about how nice Umemiya’s been to you when you arrive at the Ori, headquarters of Shishitoren. Steering away from the run-down screening room, you and Umemiya’s team climb up to the roof, where a group of guys wearing orange baseball jackets are waiting.

“What took you so long? Breakfast is getting cold!” The team’s leader, Tomiyama, leaps from his seat on the ledge and bounds over to Umemiya. “Oh?” He pauses, looking you up and down before smiling brightly at you. “You brought your new friend, Ume!” You wave politely and introduce yourself, a little more relaxed with Umemiya at your side.

“Smart,” comments whom you assume to be the second-in-command, Togame. He moves at a leisurely pace, barely even blinking as he lifts Tomiyama by the collar of his jacket and sets him at the other end of the meeting’s circle. “Our guys have caught at least three of their guys running surveillance on your side. Who knows what would’ve happened if you left your guest at the school alone.”

“Surveillance?” You frown, but Umemiya doesn’t look surprised. “And what do you mean, something could have happened?”

“Rival members follow others around, learning their ins and outs,” Togame tells you. “Essentially what you’ve been doing, but uninvited. They’ve been getting pretty pissy about Bofurin lately, so they might’ve tried to use you as some kind of collateral if they knew Umemiya would be out.” The thought makes you gag, and the same discontent expressions can be found on all the occupants of the roof.

“They’re not very nice, those guys,” Tomiyama pouts. “The ones we’ve questioned wanna take over your side, Ume.” So other teams want to take over Bofurin’s territory more often than Umemiya lets on, you think to yourself. Maybe not even on a weekly basis, but daily.

“Did you let the guys you’ve questioned off the hook? Or you still have ‘em here?” Hiragi asks.

“We don’t have any of them here, no,” Togame replies. “But we have a general idea of how they make their rounds and can probably catch a team or two when they start following Bofurin guys.”

“Great,” Umemiya concludes with a single decisive clap. “Let’s go get ‘em.”

“Alright, field trip time!” Tomiyama’s energy sends him practically bouncing off the walls. You pack up what little things you brought with you to the meeting and are ready to fall into step behind the guys, but Umemiya stops you with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Yo, Kaji.” The lollipop-mouthed second-year pulls down his headphones to listen. “Take them back to the school. Don’t want them there in case things get ugly.” You open your mouth to protest, ready to fire off why it’s important that you see the good, bad, and ugly of Bofurin, but Umemiya silences you with a shake of his head. “Please go. I’m not changing my mind.”

“Why don’t you want me to be there?”

“Like I said, things could get ugly–”

“And,” you cut in, “I’m capable enough to run if I need to. You can trust me to get out of there on my own.” The tone of his reply is soft and patient, like it was for your own good that you didn’t go.

“Maybe next time, okay?” You frown, disappointment twisting in your gut. “I don’t doubt that you can handle your own if things get bad. I just…don’t want you to see it if things get bad.” He runs a hand through his hair and the flex of his large bicep suddenly clicks the pieces of understanding into place. There was a reason why he was the head of Bofurin and respected by all these rowdy team members, whether they were on his team or not. Though you hadn’t seen him fight yet, there was a more dangerous side to Umemiya that existed with the kindness he’d shown you. He didn’t want you there in case things got ugly because of him.

“I–I see.” He nods with a sigh of relief and turns to leave; you pull your arms close to your body at the sudden chill as he walks away. “Umemiya?” He pauses at the doorway, his hand hovering over the handle as he looks over his shoulder at you expectantly. Several things occurred to you to say to them, all of them borderline condescending if he took it the wrong way. Don’t do anything brash. Make sure you come back. You shouldn’t need to use your fists for this.

“Be safe, please,” is what you settle for.

— Day 4 of 5: “Everyone makes mistakes // But just don’t”

You’re past the halfway point of studying Furin High and team Bofurin when Hiragi storms into the broadcast room, grumbling about being out of supplies. Umemiya isn’t worried and reassures his friend that they would have what they were missing by the end of the day. Four days of immersing yourself in Bofurin was having a significant effect on you, since you volunteer to do the run before anyone else does.

To be fair, you did need to run back to your host’s apartment–who had so graciously started letting Umemiya in while he waited for you to get ready in the morning–because you’d forgotten to drop your notebook in your bag before rushing out the door. The list wasn’t huge, either, and you figured you could do the whole trip in about an hour: painkillers (Nirei misjudged his spacing and accidentally got kicked in the crotch), small bandages (Sakura, self-explanatory), wet wipes (Suo noted how dirty the desks became because of everyone’s shoes), and a few packages of plant food (Umemiya insisted on buying some potted flowers from the vendor on your street).

“Are you sure? One of the patrol teams can pick the stuff up,” Umemiya offers, eyeing you oddly. Four days of immersing yourself in Bofurin meant you also caught the team’s head staring when he thought you weren’t looking, and then quickly turning away when you looked back. “Or, if you go, let me send one of the class captains with you, just in case. Sakura should be on patrol in the area.” You shake your head and stand up to leave.

“I’ll be fine, Ume, I promise.” The nickname slips out before you can stop it, but he doesn’t seem to notice, eyebrows drawn in concern as he watches the floor. You lightly rest your hand on his shoulder and he snaps out of it, exhaling through his nose before nodding, reluctantly.

“Call if anything happens,” Hiragi grunts before turning to Umemiya. “Hey, weren’t you talking about giving them a–”

“Hiragi, you’re a genius,” Umemiya cuts in and moves to dig through a box at the corner of the room. “Hey, wait,” he says, gently catching your wrist before you’re out the door and pressing a jacket into your hand. Four days of immersing yourself in Bofurin, and you would know the jacket’s green collar and the insignia anywhere. “No one should bother you if you’re wearing it.”

Ironically, absolutely nothing happens until you’re on your way back from the convenience store. Your host was waiting for you in the living area to give you your notebook, and the store was barely a block away from her apartment. You find the needed items easily, placing a bag of mixed hard candies and a box of new chalk into your basket because you noticed they were running out. It’s a perfect day as you walk back to Furin, all cloudless skies and cool breezes and smooth sidewalks. The Furin jacket fits snugly on your torso, sturdy enough to protect you from the chill in the shade but light enough that you don’t overheat from the sun. It’s nice, something you could get used to.

You don’t realize they’re behind you until it’s too late.

“So, you’re Bofurin’s bitch, huh? Nice to see you in the light.” You stop in your tracks and look behind you to see a dozen guys in hot pink team uniforms you don’t recognize. There shouldn’t be that many of a rival team on Bofurin grounds, right? What the hell were they doing here?

“You gonna say something, or are you stupid as you are ugly?”

“Aww, look at them. They’re shaking and they don’t even know why,” one of the guys in the front sneers. “Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll give you something to be scared of.” The group starts to approach you and your vision slows like everything was moving through syrup. You catch the symbol on their uniforms, the same one that’s been spray painted on the town’s buildings for the past few days. The encroaching team was trying to take you to get leverage over Bofurin. Not good. Definitely not good.

“Umemiya’s gonna think twice about messing with us after they see how we mess up his little pet!” Umemiya. You need to get to Umemiya. Your senses come back to you like a freight train and you have half the mind to dig your shoes into the street and run.

The rival team shouts after you and the sound of pursuing footsteps thunder down the road. With one hand gripping the plastic bag of supplies, you yank your phone from the jacket pocket and frantically swipe to his contact. Your assailants draw closer and you force more energy into your legs, barely outrunning them by a few seconds. You cut through an alleyway and round a corner, but a dip in the road simultaneously makes you trip, pain shooting through your ankle. Shit! Your finger misses the ‘call’ button on your phone and you tap the ‘send location’ button instead. It’s not what you were going for, but your only options were to stop to properly call for help and get caught or keep running on your tweaked ankle. With the group of guys racing around the corner to catch you, you have no choice but to keep running.

“Get the hell away from me!” You skid to a halt and turn to face the team head-on, your voice unsteady and breathless. You were finally starting to recognize the buildings around you; at the same time, your lungs were aching unbearably. Your pursuers slow to a halt and you’re stuck in a standoff in the middle of the street, the townspeople shutting themselves away in their stores to minimize damage to their own livelihoods. You stumble backward when the team leader steps forward, a cruel grin covering his entire face.

“C’mon now, we just wanna have a little chat with you, you being Bofurin’s newest addition and all.” The men behind him leer at you, swinging their bats and crowbars up onto their shoulders.

“Take one step closer and all of Bofurin comes running,” you snarl, shoving your phone forward, your finger hovering over the ‘send location’ button.

“That’s a whole lotta bullshit spewing out of your mouth, sweetie.”

“Why don’t you shut yours, asshole?” You spit. Sure the phone was a bluff, a last-ditch effort to stall for time.

It didn’t matter.

You knew how quickly Bofurin organized.

As the hot pink leader lunges the remaining distance between you two, he’s knocked to the side by a blur of black, green, and white. Sakura stands up straight, rolls his shoulders, and scowls at you.

“Why didn’t you call us sooner, dumbass?”

“What, you think I wanted to get chased down today?” You meet his attitude with your own irritation and exhaustion. “Why didn’t you get here sooner?”

“Just go somewhere safe, idiot,” he yells, slamming his fist into an attacker’s face. “Your boyfriend’ll be here soon, but we were closer when he messaged everyone!” You don’t have time to think about the idea of Umemiya texting all of Bofurin to descend upon your location.Your glare fades quickly into relief and you step backward as Suo and Kiryu launch themselves into the fight. Kaji and Hiragi rush in within a minute, and you’re spun to face Umemiya before you register that he’s there.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?” He searches your face, his anxiety evident. “What did they do to you?”

“I’m okay, I’m okay. They didn’t get me.” Your voice wavers when you try to put weight on your injured ankle, and it panics Umemiya even more. Other Bofurin members enthusiastically join the brawl, but all Umemiya can do is take your hands and scan your body, letting you use him to balance on your good foot.

“They were chasing you? I knew I should have–” You give him a tired smile and pull his face up to meet your eyes.

“I didn’t let them catch me. I’m safe, I promise.” He inhales like he’s about to say something, but his attention snaps behind you, his expression hardening in an instant. He slips in front of you like a shield and brings his forearm up to block the hand that was meant to grab you while you were distracted. He throws the attacker to the ground and it lies still, completely unconscious.

“Hey!” The sound of Umemiya’s voice echoes in the street. The chaos stills, fists suspended in mid air. His eyes that looked so kindly on you darken into shadows, shutting out the sunlight and sending chills down the backs of everyone present. “Not enough to kill…” he orders, securing an arm around your waist and turning you away from the fighting, leaving his underclassmen to finish the job. “But enough.”

You’re a sweating mess and barely able to put weight on your ankle by the time you make it through the doors of Bofurin headquarters. You fall away from his supportive body and your shoulder hits the wall, stars scattering in your vision. Any attempt to drag yourself further, with or without Umemiya’s help, earns you nothing but a hiss and a white-hot flash of pain. Umemiya looks distraught, reaching forward and pulling back with indecisive uncertainty.

“What do you need me to do? Tell me what to do and I’ll do it,” he pleads with you. “Please, tell me what you need.”

“Water,” you croak, your voice hoarse and tired. “I just–I can’t–I can’t walk well–” Your feet leave the ground before you can comprehend that you’re in the air, Umemiya’s arms effortlessly lifting you and beginning the ascent up the school’s stairs. His body is steady and he barely breaks a sweat, stone-cold determination his only expression. Your decreasing heart rate pounds in your forehead and you squint against the light once he climbs to the roof. He sets you gently on a chair in the shade before retrieving a bottle of water, watching as you take a few sips before kneeling in front of you.

“May I?” You blink, regaining your senses, and realize he’s asking if he can inspect your ankle. You hum, settling into the chair while he carefully rolls up the cuff of your pants. His fingers brushing your bare skin momentarily makes you forget any pain, a shock of lightning shooting up your spine as he swipes his thumb over the front of your ankle. He turns your leg over gently in his hands before deeming it okay. “It’s not swelling, thankfully, so it’s probably just a bad sprain at most.” He exhales, deeply relieved, but continues to run his fingers carefully over the tender area.

“You couldn’t have predicted they would be there,” you say, his thoughts painted all over his face.

“I didn’t say anything,” he mumbles, more irritated than you expected. He’s just mad at himself, not at you, you need to remind yourself.

“You didn’t need to.” Your hand reaches itself out on its own accord, turning his face so you could meet his eyes. “I didn’t get hurt because of you.”

“But you did get hurt,” he mutters, eyebrows drawn the same way as when he was analyzing the pink symbol a few days prior. The cogs in his brain were turning, you could see, but this time there was a lingering sense of shame. “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you safe.”

“I’m here with you, aren’t I?” He shrugs, but you catch the muscle in his jaw relax as his eyes soften. “If that’s not safe, then I don’t know what is.”

“You’re not angry that I wasn’t there sooner?”

“I’m safest when I’m with you,” you state simply, “and you found me at just the right moment. So no, of course I’m not angry with you.” Words slip out of Umemiya’s mouth before he’s able to register that they’re leaving, but he has half the mind to change the middle part of the sentence before he comes off as too overbearing.

“I…care about you, deeply.” You smile, letting him take your hand into his own and press his lips to the inside of your palm.

— Day 5 of 5: “We could live so happily // If no one knows that you’re with me”

It’s 7:00 am and Umemiya isn’t outside your door.

You curl up on your bed and stare out the window, the street below milling with its usual morning business. After he dropped you off the previous night with a curt ‘sleep well’ and a reminder to ice your ankle, you were left in an eerily quiet bedroom while you tossed and turned thinking about the day’s events. A ring of the doorbell sends you hobbling down the stairs and throwing open the front door, only to be met with a very pink Sakura, flanked by Suo and Nirei.

“Don’t go outside today,” Sakura says bluntly. Nirei flinches and Suo’s smile becomes slightly strained, both of them eyeing their class captain warily.

“What he means,” Suo says before Sakura can say anything else, “is that you don’t need to come study Bofurin today.” Your heart sinks. This must have been because of the day prior. He was really mad that you got yourself hurt, huh?

“Don’t look so sad about it,” Sakura mutters, his cheeks turning a slightly darker shade of red. “It’s annoying.” You stutter an unexpected apology and suddenly have the urge to hide back in your room until your train the next day.

“I get it,” you say quietly. “He’s angry with me. Please give him my thanks for the hospitality he’s shown me this week. I’ll be gone by 8:00 tomorrow.” You move to close the door when all three boys practically throw themselves in the way.

“Wait, that’s not what we meant!” Nirei’s eyes are the size of basketballs.

“Please don’t listen to anything Sakura is saying; he has a hard time empathizing with others.” Nirei nods enthusiastically in agreement with Suo, slapping a hand over Sakura’s mouth to prevent the boy from speaking. “Really, that’s not what we mean by saying you don’t need to study us anymore.”

“Umemiya wants you to take the day to rest,” Nirei explains quickly. “He doesn’t think you should be walking to and from the school on your injured ankle.” Your sadness is replaced with indignancy and you cross your arms over your chest.

“He couldn’t have told me this himself?”

“He would, but…” Nirei’s voice trails off and you catch Suo biting the inside of his cheek. Sakura’s the first to break the silence, peeling Nirei’s hand from his face.

“Umemiya and the upperclassmen have been beating the shit out of those hot pink assholes since last night.”

“It must’ve been pretty serious, since he didn’t even allow Suo or Sakura to go with them,” Nirei adds, “And they’re some of the best fighters in our class.”

“How long has he been out?”

“Hiragi said he called them late last night and a small team raided the hot pink team’s base.” That would mean Bofurin raided the base immediately after dropping you off. Why would he hide that from you? “Technically, he said not to tell you because he knew you’d panic,” Sakura continues. “So he sent us to tell you to take it easy. Don’t stab the messengers.”

“It’s ‘don’t shoot the messengers,’ Sakura,” Suo corrects and Sakura shrugs, indifferent.

“And we’re already as good as dead anyway,” Nirei says, his expression dropping. “We weren’t supposed to tell you that he’s been fighting those guys that hurt you.”

“It’s Sakura’s fault for yapping–”

“You wanna fight?”

“What’s done is done, little brothers.” You stiffen, blinking against the morning sun as Umemiya trudges into your vision. His handsome face has seen better days, small cuts and bruises littered all over his skin. He tossed his jacket over his shoulder, revealing the dirtied white shirt that wasn’t stained the previous evening. He rolls a broad shoulder and stretches his neck from side to side, his underclassmen scurrying away as he steps onto the welcome mat. “G’morning,” he greets in a tired voice. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Better late than never,” you deadpan, taking his hand and guiding him inside. “Thanks boys,” you call over your shoulder at the sheepish underclassmen. “I’ll take it from here,” you finish before shutting the door.

“Gotta say, this place looks better when my vision isn’t blurry,” Umemiya jokes with a wince, collapsing into a chair at the dining table. You ignore his attempt at humor, retrieving the first aid kit from the closet along with a rag that you soak with warm water. His eyes are on you as you move about; you feel his gaze burn into the back of your neck.

“If you weren’t already beaten to a pulp, I’d slap you,” you mumble, sitting across from him and gently patting the dried blood from his face.

“And I’d let you,” he manages to smile, never taking his attention away from you. You can’t tell if your face is hot from his intense stare or from the anger bubbling in your stomach. Scooting closer, you start work on the cut above his lip, just missing his nose. “You smell nice.”

“You need to stop talking.” His smile fades only slightly, his eyes ever watchful while you take care of his wounds. You hope he can’t tell how badly your hands are shaking as you tap antibiotic ointment onto his skin and cover it with a bandage.

“You’re upset with me,” he says carefully, observing the way you’re conveniently avoiding eye contact.

“You just figured that out?”

“You gonna tell me why, or are you just gonna keep scowling?”

“This is not how you usually do things,” you say through gritted teeth, gesturing to the evidence of fights all over his body. “You’re diplomatic. You’re understanding. You’re empathetic. You don’t…You don’t solve problems like this!” You don’t realize how loud your voice has become until you register the echo from the empty walls, nor do you realize that you were standing until his eyes were looking up at you.

“How do you know that I don’t do this?”

“Because I watched you this week and I know how you work.” You swallow thickly. “I don’t know why you’d break all of that just because of some hot pink bastards running around your–”

“I did it because of you,” he says. “I did it because they hurt you.”

“You didn’t need to do that, Hajime.” It’s the first time you’d used his first name and something flutters in Umemiya’s stomach. He can’t do anything but stare at you in awe, watching as your emotions start to escape down your face in wet streaks. His body moves on its own, reaching out to wipe your tears to the side and standing so that your chests are nearly touching. His voice is barely a murmur, reserved only for you to hear.

“You didn’t want me to do it?” Both your hearts are racing, slamming against your rib cages.

“If it meant you getting hurt like this, then no.”

“I’d put myself through much worse if it meant you were safe,” he whispers. In this proximity, your anger flies out the window, along with your good judgment. He was so close, you could just–

“What else would you do for me?” His eyelashes flutter against yours.

“Anything.” Umemiya thinks he has a broken rib from how little he can breathe.

“Show me.” It’s like a rubber band snaps between your bodies as he finally leans down to kiss you, molding himself so that you could perfectly melt against him. His grip on your waist is rock-solid, holding you close enough that you feel him shudder when you scratch against his undercut. The sound you make when he swipes his tongue against your bottom lip makes his head go completely empty, the same feeling happening for you when his fingers graze the spot where your neck meets your chin. He kisses you feverishly, refusing to let you breathe until you’re forced to pull away lest you completely lose consciousness.

“Do you always kiss the people you write about?” He winks at you and you roll your eyes, draping your arms over his shoulders.

“Only the ones I fall for,” you whisper back. “I’m still mad at you for ditching me this morning, though.”

“I sent your three favorite underclassmen instead,” he argues but you shake your head, a smile teasing your mouth. “Fine. How can I make it up to you?” You hum thoughtfully, blinking at him in a way that sent Umemiya’s mind into a frenzy.

“Kiss me again and we’ll call it even.”

“Whatever you say.”

— Day [???] of [???]:

He’s waiting for you when you step off the train, a dazzling smile on his face that grows when he sees the certificate awarded to you with your scholarship funds. A dozen captains dot the platform, diligently watching the back of their leader as he brings down every guard he has and catches you in his arms. After enduring Umemiya talking their ears off, the silence that falls over the area as you bask in each other’s presence is enough of a reason to switch formations, allowing you time alone with the one man who would put himself through hell if it meant you were still his.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#windbreaker x you #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker x y/n #wind breaker x you #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker x y/n #umemiya x you #umemiya x reader #umemiya x y/n #umemiya hajime x you #umemiya hajime x reader #umemiya hajime x y/n #wind breaker fluff #wind breaker angst #umemiya fluff #umemiya angst

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gffa · 10 months ago

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I've been a little slow on getting out new STAR WARS fic recs out, but in my defense it's because I've been reading a bunch of longer fics lately. In the spirit of "there's a special feeling to those fics that consume you and make you stay up until 3am because you can't put them down", here's a list of some of the ones I've loved or am in the middle of reading and they are haunting my thoughts and I need to inflict that on everyone else. Whether you're looking at a long upcoming trip and need some good reading material or avoiding your feelings by sinking into fic or just because you like reading, I hope you'll find something here! Including a bonus underrunning theme of throwing in a bunch of Jedi-loving fic to continue my agenda of making Jedi-centric fandom a more fun place to be. 30k+ is the minimum and this isn't all of my favorites, but it's a great list of "I have a week off to kill and I want to be in a fic coma by the end of it".

STAR WARS FIC FOR WHEN YOU NEED TO KILL ABOUT TEN HOURS WORTH OF TIME AND WANT TO HAVE FEELINGS ABOUT FICTIONAL PSYCHIC SPACE WIZARDS WHILE YOU'RE AT IT:

✦ Out with Lanterns by SkyeBean, mace & ahsoka & plo & shaak & cast, 312.5k In another universe, Jedi Masters Plo Koon and Depa Billaba decide a Padawan could do Mace some good. It takes a while, but he eventually agrees. When he takes Ahsoka Tano as his Padawan, Mace knows that he's broken through a Shatterpoint and changed the course of a life. How, he doesn't know. ✦ Reprise by Elfpen, obi-wan & qui-gon & mace & yoda & anakin & cast, time travel, 558.9k wip Ben Kenobi dies aboard the Death Star in the year 0 BBY. He wakes up shortly thereafter in the Jedi temple in the year 41 BBY. Haunted by memories and regret, Ben must forge a new path for himself in the Jedi Order of his youth while navigating the murky waters of time travel. Crafting a better future from bitter experience is hard, but learning to heal is even harder. ✦ Take it from the top and try again by mauvera, obi-wan & qui-gon & anakin & padme & mace & shmi & dooku & cast, time travel, 112k wip Five years into his self imposed exile on Tattooine, Obi-Wan Kenobi is gifted the chance to go back and bring hope back to the galaxy. With hindsight on his side, he fully intends to save his master, save his padawan, make some new and old friends again, prepare the Jedi for a war they’ll hopefully never see and begin to pull apart all the many tangled threads of the Sith Lord’s plans. Should be relatively easy. Right? ✦ Post Order 66 Exile AU by Livsy, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 46k Alternatively: after a failed order 66, in which many Jedi still died but the Sith were defeated, an exiled warrior and a boy wander a distant planet and attempt to get along. ✦ Remedial Jedi Theology by MarbleGlove, obi-wan & anakin & jedi & cast, 51.3k Let us consider the fact that the Jedi Order is a monastic religious organization based out of a temple, with five basic tenets of faith. ✦ Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi by stonefreeak, obi-wan & anakin & padme & yoda & palpatine & bail & dooku & mace & quinlan & vokara & ahsoka & cast, 124.5k wip By an old Republic law, all members of the Jedi High Council are senators in the Galactic Senate, and can thus be voted in as chancellor. A Senator from a less prominent planet has had enough of Chancellor Palpatine's incompetence and calls for a Vote of No-Confidence and the installation of Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi as Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic. This one action becomes the catalyst that changes the direction of the galaxy. ✦ What We've Become by Vinyarie, vader & ahsoka & cast, 82k Darth Vader and Ahsoka’s fight on Malachor takes a different path, and Ahsoka actually is able to save her master. Or rather, she’s able to convince him to save himself. Diverges from canon in the last few minutes of Twilight of the Apprentice and goes increasingly AU from there.

✦ time to change the road you're on by wreckageofstars, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & luke & leia & han & ghost crew & cast, time travel, 93.6k wip The end of the Clone War is near - the fall of the Republic even nearer. Anakin Skywalker, caught up in the events that lead to the rise of the Empire and the loss of everything he holds dear, finds himself sent nearly two decades into the future. Ahsoka Tano, still coming to painful terms with the true fate of her former master, is - not exactly happy to see him. But the Force works in mysterious ways - and the future is not nearly as set in stone as they've been lead to believe. Multi-chapter AU, Rise of the Empire/Rebels-era. ✦ narrower than a razor's edge by bereft_of_frogs, obi-wan & dooku & qui-gon & anakin & sidious & cast, 30.2k Dooku tips his hand ten years earlier because he can't stand the thought of his former apprentice's murder, and that might just be enough to save everyone...if it doesn't get them all killed first. ✦ soften every edge by gigglesandfreckles, obi-wan & ahsoka (& anakin), major character death, 48.1k "Rejoice!" the galaxy says, in the wake of war and the dawning of peace. "How?" Obi-Wan asks. "No," Ahsoka says. (or: Obi-Wan & Ahsoka learn to live on.) ✦ hunting toward heartstill by blackkat, mace/cody & plo & fives & shaak & obi-wan & anakin & rex & cast, 207.2k Plo has an idea. Mace agrees, and everything snowballs right into hell from there. (Or: Mace and Cody get married in order to give the clones citizen status. Before they can focus on that, though, they're going to have to deal with ancient Sith artifacts, evil prophets, plots to overthrow the Supreme Chancellor, lost planets, monsters warped by Sith alchemy, inconvenient , and Darth Sidious turning his eye on a potential new apprentice. Just...not in that order.) ✦ Cataclasm by dendral, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & waxer & cast, 63.1k wip For reasons unknown to all but himself, Obi-Wan Kenobi has left the Jedi Order in the midst of the Clone Wars, taking with him a single clone. Anakin Skywalker has been unofficially tasked by the Order to find Obi-Wan and bring him home. Unfortunately for Anakin, it seems his former master is always ten steps ahead of him. ✦ Unexpected Awakening (The Rewrite) by Rhiw, obi-wan & qui-gon & anakin & feemor & bruck & jango & cast, time travel, 135.1k wip The life of General Kenobi is cut short at the hands of his Padawan, but the sight that greets his eyes upon awakening is not that of blinding light of the Force, but the Jedi Temple he knew when he was still a youth. As he struggles to understand the path laid out before him, Obi-Wan unwittingly captures the attention of a singularly unusual Temple Guard, and that of a reluctant Qui-Gon Jinn.

✦ Knightrise by deviantaccumulation, obi-wan & ahsoka & satine & yoda & cast, 89.4k wip There is no battle on Mustafar or in Coruscant's senate building. Instead, a small but still alive Jedi Order rises from its ashes on Mandalore. ✦ Fire and Ice by Yesac, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 111.9k Anakin wins the duel on Mustafar, but doesn't kill Obi-Wan. Along with Padme, Obi-Wan finds himself living in a chaotic world where the man he thought he knew has become the thing he swore to destroy. Can Anakin be turned back? If so, what then? ✦ Better That a Millstone by Icarus_is_flying, obi-wan & luke & anakin & leia & cast, 86.7k Vader discovers Luke and Obi-Wan on Tatooine when Luke is one year old and attempts to reclaim the family he threw away. Obi-Wan is less than pleased, and Luke and Leia? They have their own ideas about how their future should play out. ✦ Bloodlines by KCKenobi, obi-wan & anakin & dooku, 35.8k When an explosion traps them in the same doomed escape pod, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Dooku are stranded together on Tatooine. The goal is simple: cooperate long enough to survive, and not a second longer. But a shared past has a way of connecting the people we think we know—and bloodlines run deep. [or: your classic family road trip across a desert planet, except your grandpa is, you know, a Sith Lord. And now he's sort of starting to bond with your Jedi dad. And that might be an issue.] ✦ When Darkness Seems to Hide This Place by IllyanaA, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & rex & cast, 136k wip After killing three of the Jedi Order's best and brightest, Palpatine's fight with Jedi Master Mace Windu goes shorter than expected. Afraid he's lost his chance at recruiting a new apprentice, Sidious unleashes Order 66 across the galaxy, but, per their programming, the Clone Army is not to harm Anakin Skywalker. After witnessing the most painful loss he's ever experienced and injured at the hands of his captors, Anakin is ready to die like the rest of the Jedi, though not before getting his vengeance. ✦ Precipice by shadowsong26, obi-wan & anakin & padme & luke & leia & bail & ahsoka & rex & cast, 253.6k An AU in which Anakin Skywalker does not follow Mace Windu and the others to Palpatine’s office after they leave to arrest the Chancellor. As a result, he doesn’t get that final push over the edge, and doesn’t Fall. ✦ Averting Galactic Destruction by kj_feybarn, obi-wan & anakin & quinlan & rex & cody & fives & dogma & wolffe & plo & shaak & dooku & sidious, time travel, 44.3k AKA The Time the Force Sent Obi-Wan Back in Time and Quinlan Vos kept him from Going Kamikaze because let’s be Honest, Being Forced to Come Back in Time Would Suck.

✦ Into the Archives by skygawker, obi-wan & anakin/padme & palpatine & cast, 104.9k wip After hearing the legend of Darth Plagueis the Wise from Palpatine, Anakin decides that his best chance to save Padme is to break into the restricted Holocron Vault of the Temple Archives to search for information about Plagueis. Predictably, all does not go according to plan. Revenge of the Sith AU. ✦ Live To Fight Another Day by raemanzu, spica_tea, cody & rex & jesse & kix & obi-wan & anakin & fox & cast, 396.9k wip Clones have their place in the universe, beyond the schemes of Palpatine. Events conspire to place Rex on the path of a new fate, one which will affect the future in ways not even the Jedi could foresee. Loyal to source material and characterizations. Canon-divergent. Starts between seasons 5 and 6 of TCW and explores Rex’s reaction to Fives’ dying words and subsequent events building toward Order 66. Variety of canon characters. No ships. Very Ace and Aro. Strong focus on certain friendships (Rex and Cody, Jesse and Kix, etc) with those friendships playing major roles. Thematically about how the clones navigate loss, trauma, the concept of their enslavement, their identities, etc amongst the larger active plot threads. Content warnings for war-related PTSD, trauma, combat injuries, and all around war-related angst etc in later chapters. ✦ Life and What Comes After by Ibelin, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & padme & cast, 177.2k wip Obi-Wan dies on Jabiim. Anakin blames himself, doesn't know how to go on and yet - he does. Maybe the Force rewards that kind of thing, or maybe he just gets lucky, but when a mission lands Anakin on a vaguely familiar planet, he gets a second chance to do what he knows he should have done in the first place: save his master. (And maybe a chance to save the galaxy, too.) ✦ Knight-Errant by zinjadu, anakin & ahsoka & obi-wan & padme & rex & jedi & clones, 315.8k AU - The Jedi Who Knew Too Much. Rex decides to stay "in pursuit" of his Commander; he jumps. Now, with backup, Ahsoka navigates the lower levels and deals with Ventress. Meanwhile, Anakin takes the Order to task, finds a little more support, and things turn out a little differently for everyone. And this is just the beginning. ✦ the massive machinery of hope by Killbothtwins, obi-wan & qui-gon & anakin & shmi & jedi, time travel, 150.1k After the end of the war with the Empire, Obi-Wan wakes up in his twelve-year old body. Now all he needs to do is convince everyone he's psychic, trick his Master into taking him on before he's sent to Bandomeer, redeem a few bad guys, and try not to have a nervous breakdown. Pretty easy. It's not like the Sith are lurking on the horizon, waiting to devour the Jedi Order.

✦ The Exchange by MissLearn, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & ahsoka & padme & cast, time travel/body swap, 120k The Daughter has a bad day and it irrevocably changes the fate of the galaxy, twice over. Or; ROTS Obi-Wan and Anakin are swapped with their younger, TPM, selves. It changes things, in both parallels. ✦ In All The World by Kjellarnen, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 144.8k wip The story of how Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi tamed each other, from Naboo to Anakin's early days at the Temple. ✦ In Another Life by KCKenobi, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & padme, time travel, 52.3k Eleven years after the rise of the Empire, a favor to a friend sends Obi-Wan traveling through the multiverse. He encounters different versions of the galaxy and of himself—including one in which Anakin never turned to the dark side. Obi-Wan and this Light Anakin are forced to work together to stop the creation of a disastrous Empire weapon. But as they move through different versions of reality, the timelines become more and more twisted—and the harder it is to distinguish who they are from who they might have been. And—to find their way home. ✦ The Intruder by Hollyoakhill, obi-wan & original clone characters, 82.5k When a vicious attack from a strange, indestructible monster traps them on a derelict star destroyer, a young clone trooper fresh from Kamino join forces with Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi to find a way to escape. ✦ Conceal Me What I Am by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/anakin & padme & yoda & mace & palpatine & quinlan & cast, omegaverse, NSFW, 108.3k Separatist Propaganda is turning the Republic against the Jedi Order and the Senate sees no choice but to join in a political alliance to fight dissent on a unified front.An alliance is proposed through an arranged marriage,between a Jedi Knight and Republic Senator. Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi are chosen as representatives of the political union by Darth Sidious, meant to bring ruin to the marriage and the public's support of the Jedi,for Obi-Wan Kenobi is not the Beta he claims. But even Sidious does not know of the secret Anakin Skywalker keeps, that he is not the Alpha the galaxy believes him to be. ✦ Equinox by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 95.9k During the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan and Anakin crash on a remote planet and take shelter in the ruins of a grand estate only to find they are not alone.

✦ Invictus by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 40.3k "He is the balance, the other half, the completion to Skywalker’s soul, a perfect dyad in the force. But while Kenobi is a simple answer, the force also sees the difficulty of the pair coming together in balance. The foundations of the galaxy they exist in pull at them, threatening to intervene in their unity. But this is also a simple problem, for the force is far greater than the foundations of a single galaxy, for it is the foundation of all. So the force enacts its will, to bridge the pair over a span of moments, of years, of eternities, and Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi will fall in love, have fallen in love, and are falling in love." ✦ Neutron star collision by thedunesea, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 121.2k wip In the aftermath of Order 66, Anakin Skywalker's miraculous survival after his confrontation with the new Sith Apprentice Darth Vader ignites a sparkle of hope in the remaining Jedi, in the fledgling rebellion and, above all, in his former Master, who thought he had lost everything to darkness. But darkness is generous, and it is patient. ✦ Lex Talionis by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & dooku & rex & cast, NSFW, 187.1k The ancient Galactic Republic is dying slowly—an ugly death of corruption, sprawl, and decay—with the sin of slavery hanging over its every triumph. The beleaguered Jedi Knights are too few to adequately patrol and police the entire Republic, and are faced with complacency and greed at every turn. Born into a crumbling and stagnant galaxy, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker are faced with the greatest challenge of all: themselves. Obi-Wan likes rules and control. When the galaxy around him stops playing by the rules, what is a Jedi to do? Anakin needs rules and restraint. When the galaxy around him conspires to set him loose, what is his Master to do? Falling slowly or falling fast, falling through lust or falling through wrath—it all leads to delusion and moral decay. What can be born from the ashes? ✦ Atlas of Our Ruin by Ripki, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, time travel, 230.8k Both the past and the future casts long shadows. Obi-Wan and Anakin learn that the hard way, when a mysterious holocron flings them backwards and forwards in time, forcing them to confront painful truths. But the time-travel is only the beginning… ✦ Seed by bell (belldreams), obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 44k When Anakin falls prey to a lethal poison, Obi-Wan has no choice but use all his resources to heal him-- no matter how reluctant he is in administering the antidote.

✦ wicked thing by imaginarykat, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & cast, nsfw, sith!obi-wan, 124.2k wip There are rumours of yet another Sith Lord hiding among the Separatists. The Council sends Anakin to investigate. Anakin has a bad feeling about this. or, the story of how Anakin exists in a perpetual state of intense embarrassment, Obi-Wan is enjoying it a little too much, and everything is, generally speaking, a gigantic mess. ✦ Rulebreaker/Wildheart by chapstickaddict, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & luke & leia & barriss & cast, NSFW, 230k Darth Vader, the strong arm of the Sith, held loyal to his Order since they took he and his mother from slavery in the deserts of Tatooine. Until he became convinced they killed his wife. He abandoned his Order and disappeared in the chaos of the Clone Wars, presumed dead by all sides. That young Skywalker is known around town as a widower and homesteader; a Nabooian who emigrated to avoid the trade blockade; a father of overly-energetic twins and warding a Togruta war orphan; a decent mechanic if your farm equipment or maintenance droid is acting up. Anakin is a paranoid, over-protective hot mess doing his best to raise his weird pack the way Padmé would have wanted. How the hell is he supposed to do that when his kids and not-apprentice make him haul a half-dead Jedi Master home like a lost pet? ✦ more than a candle by jenmishe, obi-wan/anakin/padme, NSFW, 50.3k "The dark is generous and it is patient and it always wins – but in the heart of its strength lies its weakness: one lone candle is enough to hold it back. Love is more than a candle. Love can ignite the stars." Or, a few thousands of words of how Anakin, Obi Wan, and Padmé realize many things, which include, most notably, how they feel about each other and how to handle said feelings. Oh, and in the meantime, they deal with a megalomaniac Sith Lord. ✦ Anamorphosis by avocadomoon, obi-wan/padme & anakin & mace & corde & qui-gon & cast, 33.5k noun, plural an·a·mor·pho·ses [an-uh-mawr-fuh-seez, -mawr-foh-seez]. A distorted or monstrous projection or representation of an image on a plane or curved surface, which, when viewed from a certain point, or as reflected from a curved mirror or through a polyhedron, appears regular and in proportion; a deformation of an image.

#lumi.txt #star wars #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #mace windu #qui gon jinn #jedi order #fic recs #star wars fic recs #long post #really long post

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robot-roadtrip-rants · 2 months ago

Text

I posted an analysis of a section from Dark Imperium on Reddit that I'm quite proud of, so I'm reposting it here:

‘Some of the worlds dispute the proof. They are more than glad to welcome our warriors, but the Imperial governors in two dozen systems quibble over reaffirming their oaths of loyalty. In one case, we have had an outbreak of intra-system civil war over the issue, where one lord has declared for you and three against. Some lie outright, telling us they were never part of Ultramar. Perhaps some of them sincerely believe it. A few are braver and insist the ancient treaties cannot be revoked, even by you, my lord, and are determined to retain their independence.’ ‘They are wrong,’ said Guilliman. […] 'They are… disquieted by the fate of some of their peers.’ ‘Only those who rule poorly have anything to fear,’ said Guilliman. ‘It is, naturally, the more autocratic rulers who oppose your rescinding of their independence.’ ‘Then they only delay the inevitable,’ said Guilliman. ‘They will fall into line and ask politely for mercy, or they will be executed.’ […] ‘I should never have set the Five Hundred free,’ he said. ‘My lord?’ said Ventris. ‘I should not have done it,’ repeated Guilliman. ‘I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was following the Emperor’s wishes, letting men rule the affairs of men.’

A lot of people look at this passage and think they’re seeing Guilliman clean up corruption in the 500 Worlds. I’m sure he will, but that’s not what’s happening here. This is an autocrat ruthlessly crushing resistance.

Why are these worlds resisting? Ventris claims that “naturally” the more autocratic rulers are the most resistant. Perhaps that’s true, but we also have to take into account that he is an Ultramarine talking to his genesire; he will be heavily biased in thought and word against Guilliman’s enemies. Look closer at how he describes the resisters. They invoke ancient treaties to justify their independence. They’re afraid of what will happen if they surrender. Using that information, let’s flip the chessboard and try to imagine what these demands feel like from their perspective:

You’re a human ruler. For the past ten thousand years, your planet has existed free of transhuman rule. You might even have the original treaty that granted your planet’s independence. You almost certainly regard yourself as an obedient subject of the Imperium.

All of a sudden, one of the legendary demigods of yore shows up on your doorstep and demands you to bend the knee. He doesn’t care about your treaties (which he probably signed!) or historic independence or anything. Ugly things happen to people who go against him. Oh sure, he claims that you’ll be fine, so long as you haven’t done anything wrong, but do you really believe that? You’re a ruler in the fucking Imperium. You know just how potential claimants are handled; you know how often misdeeds get dug out of the closets of inconvenient politicians. Shit, you've probably done that yourself to your political rivals. Do you really think that you’ll be okay? And if you actually care about your planet, can you really trust him to give a damn about the lives of your people? Transhumans do tend to be aloof creatures convinced in their own superiority…

Guilliman doesn’t consider any of these possibilities, not even for the purposes of negotiation. Guilliman doesn’t care. He’s right, you’re wrong, and therefore he’s justified in doing whatever it takes to make you comply. This is 40k. “Whatever it takes” includes cyclonic torpedoes.

The most damning part IMO are Guilliman’s words at the end. He didn’t grant these worlds their liberty because he trusted humans to look after themselves. He granted them liberty in obedience to Dad. Humans’ thoughts, beliefs, and opinions never entered the equation. And now, coming back to the Imperium at its lowest point, he concludes that it was a mistake to give humans the benefit of the doubt.

The Imperium lasted ten thousand years under human rule. It survived the Great Beast, twelve Black Crusades, the Nova Terra civil war, the False Primarch, the Age of Apostasy, three Tyranid Wars, and Throne knows what else—not just survived, but even thrived in many cases. Under transhuman rule, the Imperium lasted six fucking years before it exploded into civil war that nearly destroyed the whole empire and even the galaxy itself. But it was a mistake to let humans rule themselves. Riiiiiiiiight.

#warhammer 40k #roboute guilliman

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bumblesimagines · 4 months ago

Note

we never should have crossed that line.

keep this between us.

Alicent Hightower

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, spoilers for season 2 especially episode 6, slightly suggestive content? not rlly, mentions of an arranged marriage, all my homies hate Jasper Wylde even if he has 29 children!!

I'm obsessed with this woman

Servants, guards, and courtiers were swift to step out of the Dowager Queen's way as she strode down the hall, her earrings swaying and tapping against her with each quick step. She made a beeline directly for the bedchambers of Lord (Y/N) and offered the guard posted outside a nod when he opened one of the doors for her, bowing his head deeply in respect before shutting the door behind her with an echoing thud.

Alicent inhaled deeply through her nose, her laced fingers pulling apart as she swept her gaze over the room before settling her full attention on (Y/N) and Grand Maester Orwyle. She swallowed, greeting Grand Maester Orwyle with a polite smile as the older man bowed and collected some papers in his hand, turning to the lord and bowing as well before he left the room. Alicent waited for the thud of the doors to shut again before dropping the smile.

"I was rather disappointed when I heard the Prince Regent had removed you from the Small Council, Your Grace. You were one of the few I could listen to without having the overwhelming desire to bash my head against the table." (Y/N) spoke bluntly, as he always did, his gaze more focused on reading the letter in hand to pay her any actual mind. Alicent almost sighed at that; noblemen and their blatant disrespect.

"Exceptionally kind words for a man such as yourself, Lord (Y/N)," Alicent said and he chuckled quietly. "I came here after hearing of the saddening news of Lord Wylde's injury; such a taxing thing he remained abed during this morrow's meeting."

"As I told the Council this morning, such is the burden of growing older, Your Grace." Lord (Y/N) responded, crumbling the letter in hand and tossing it aside to tumble along the table. He leaned back in his chair and finally met her unwavering stare, his eyes icy and indifferent. "I'm certain you know how.. clumsy older men can be, Your Grace."

Alicent hummed softly in vague agreement, her fingers beginning to toy with the rings adorning her knuckles. "Yes, though it is a rather curious thing he so violently fell down the stairs not long after his proposition during my last meeting, no? I noticed it vexed you for him to speak on our behalf."

"I'm sure we can agree either of us hardly need a fool offering a betrothal at our age. You've done your duty of wife and mother to the late King Viserys and I've done my husband duties to my late wife. I may need a son, yes, but I am quite content with my daughter for the time being. She's certainly more of a man than Jasper Wylde is at just the mere age of five."

Alicent nearly winced at the mention of his daughter. She saw her often, mostly racing about in the gardens with a poor maid or two rushing after her to catch her before she could hurt herself. It stung, occasionally, to look upon the young girl. She reminded her all too well of Rhaenyra in her youth with her energy and commanding demeanor, eager to act like a boy instead of a proper lady. Sometimes it hurt to watch her with (Y/N) and wonder what her life would've been like if her own father had treated her with such care, if he'd indulged her desires and encouraged her to do what she wished instead of choosing for her.

Clearing her throat, she nodded. "Yes, we are in agreement. Although, opposing it as strongly as you did was... unnecessary." Alicent said, slightly lifting the skirt of her dress as she stepped down the two steps before her and walked further into the room, releasing her dress and feeling it skim along the floor.

"If I recall, you strongly opposed it as well, did you not, Your Grace?" (Y/N) questioned and rose from his chair, the scraping of it being pushed back echoing through the room. He tilted his head at her, the papers and letters scattered across the table forgotten in favor of watching her. "Why does it bother you so?"

Her eyes jumped away, unable to admit to herself that her pride had been wounded. She was still young and beautiful, her body naturally slim despite bearing four pregnancies nearly back-to-back, something desired by many women. She'd been the Queen once, still technically was despite Helaena's ascension due to her marriage. But (Y/N), widowed and in need of an heir, brushed away the very idea of them marrying as if it brought insult to him and his house. Her memory flickered back to a specific night but she pushed it away as quickly as she'd recalled.

"Most men without a proper heir would leap at the opportunity to wed a lady of age, especially if said lady is from one of the Great Houses. I had assumed, upon hearing his proposal, that you might have... agreed." Alicent's eyes darted back when (Y/N) strode closer to her, the toying of her rings momentarily stopping as they looked upon each other. "Though, I... I am sure you would much prefer to find a wife on your own. I know you and the late Lady (L/N) were good friends before marriage. I'm certain there are plenty of other ladies you must have in mind."

"Is that all, Your Grace?" (Y/N) asked gently, his fingers brushing some of her auburn hair over her shoulder. She swallowed again, the fiddling of her rings returning. "Are you certain it has... little to do with the very fact we shared a bed once?"

Heat rushed to her face and she swatted at his hand when his lips curled in amusement, an embarrassed scowl forming on her face. "We never should have crossed that line. It was.. improper."

The memories rushed forward against her wishes, filling her mind with the memory of him. It was all still vivid in her head, so vivid she could feel the ghost of his touch along her body and the taste of wine on his tongue after a discussion shared over some wine. She hadn't meant for things to escalate but she'd been so overwhelmed with everything occurring at once that she hadn't been able to stop herself before kissing him that night. The tingling feeling at the reminder he'd been more than pleased to tug her on his lap and soothe her worries away filled her veins.

"You swore we'd keep this between us." Alicent reminded him as she spun around to face away from him, unable to look him in the eyes as she folded her arms over her stomach and stared forward. A soft, surprised puff of air left her when his chest pressed against her back, his arms wrapping loosely around her waist. "Do not touch me." She demanded half-heartedly but made no attempt to step out of his hold.

"Was Wylde a simple excuse for you to visit my room and release your frustrations over a bruised ego?" (Y/N) asked quietly, a shiver running down her spine when he brushed his lips over the side of her neck. "I'm certain you no I'm no stranger to taking care of those who insult or challenge me, Your Grace. I'd be more than happy to extend the service to you. There are.. plenty of fools who believe themselves more important than the Dowager Queen."

Alicent's lips pressed together, her head tilting to look at him. "You'd do that for me?" Her voice came out soft and her eyes nearly fluttered shut when their lips brushed.

"Of course, Your Grace."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon x y/n #house of the dragon x male reader #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #hotd x male reader #alicent hightower x reader #alicent hightower x male reader #alicent hightower x you #alicent hightower x y/n

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solbaby7 · 1 year ago

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Psychological Warfare

pairing: rhysand x reader

warnings: cruel Eris, insinuated methods of torture, taunting, angst, swearing, in depth descriptions of a panic attack, and again angst

summary: The High Lord watches his most fearless soldier shatter to pieces

—

“Just perfect,” You mutter snarkily to Rhysand under your breath, eyes scanning the lavish office and the steadily growing number of High Lords occupying its space.

It was spacious enough to fit the obnoxiously large table in the middle; had an assortment of liquors in their freshly polished bottles and no food.

Intentional, no doubt.

Booze them up and when their guards are low, the intel will flow.

“It won’t take long,” He hums back, hand rubbing soothingly at your thigh under the table and even though it’s clear to him you don’t want to be there—to others your face is the picture of neutrality, almost completely expressionless in your seat.

You ignore the side eyes, the Lords who clutched their wives tighter once clocking that you were in the room too—a vicious soldier that fought in the Night Courts armies, more skilled and bloodthirsty than any other recruit; more calculated and five times as determined as any other able body in those camps. Rhysand had hand picked you, promising you safety, warmth and a family if you’d accepted a position on his personal guard.

That had been nearly two hundred years ago.

One final group walks through, four men with auburn hair and sun-kissed skin and your body goes ramrod straight, quickly regarding Rhys in your head.

Were they invited?

Baron was.

“I see you’ve taken to collecting strays, Rhysand.” Baron’s eldest son jokes, dark eyes taking you in like a wild animal that had been perpetually starved.

“You should mind your tongue before I let her off her leash.”

Your throat immediately closes at the words—they were innocent; meant to be encouraging but the cruel laugh that pulls from Eris’ chest as he lowers into his seat is anything but comforting and you shift in your seat. “Funny you should say that,” Eris continued, practically vibrating in excitement. Fire burned in those brown eyes when he continued, he seemed to barely notice the others who’d been gathered for the meeting as well—watching, waiting with gazes that ping-ponged back and forth between you.

“Don’t.” You breathe out and for once everyone raises a brow at your tone, shock evident at the cracks beginning to emerge quickly in your fearless facade. The wide eyes, the slight wobble of your chin and that raw scent of genuine fear fills the room.

“I don’t know,” Eris drawls out, one leg crossing over the other and it could just be your vision but you’re certain you notice the lights in the room glowing just a hair brighter but it might as well have been a thousand degrees with the sweat beading at your hairline. “Everyone’s interest is now piqued, I’d be a terrible guest if I left them hanging.”

Your hands are shaking now and the look Rhysand sends you is enough to have your head bowing in embarrassment. His mouth opens to say something, probably to mention how you’d completely shut off access to whatever was going on in your head; how all your High Lord could see was tall, thick walls lined in barbed wire and heavily reinforced guards that remained stationed at every post—nearly impenetrable.

But, somehow, Eris finds a weak spot.

You try to brace yourself, the eerily cool pinprick of anxiety poking holes all over your body until everything felt like you’d gone numb.

“That’s enough,” Rhys spoke, a hand holding yours tightly under the table, shouting through the bond for you to just tell him what was wrong; what the hell was happening?

Trying to stabilize you, to will soothing words and calm feelings through that same connection but nothing works. One of your legs bounce uncontrollably, teeth gnawing at the insides of your cheeks until you can taste the blood and even then you keep on going.

“She ever tell you about her life before you and the Night Court?”

Your eyes squeeze shut, memories beginning to shove their way to the forefront of your mind after centuries of carefully locking it up and sealing it away. A noise pulls from your throat as you try and fail to regain your composure and a thick tear begins to burn trails down your cheek as Eris’ excitement exuded. “Eris.” It comes out choked, a half-plea but you should’ve known better—the Autumn Court never did do mercy.

You’re heart is racing and you’re sure that any of the high fae in the room can hear exactly how frantic your breathing has become yet you can’t bare to look at their horrified faces—eyes wide and mouths agape in astonishment as the Night Courts fearless warrior broke before them like a child who was denied the comfort of their mother. “She was given to me as a gift,” Your eyes clench shut, one hand digging into the roots of your hair when you feel Rhysand’s fingers tightening around your other. “—her old drunk of a father practically begged me to take her off of his hands.”

You could still smell the stale beer of your father’s breath when he’d dragged you through the streets in nothing but your nightgown and presented you to the High Lord and his heirs.

You’d never forget the way the males stared you down from their thrones, eyes raking in your body like it was nothing more than a new recipe their kitchen servants had come up with. “Please.” You beg, vision so blurry you can barely make out the cruel smile he wore, the burning white of his teeth blinding you like the most scalding parts of a fire. “Stop it.”

“I didn’t have much use for her at first,” Eris shrugged casually, retelling the story with such fond remembrance, glancing over to one of his brothers with a finger pointed. “But then my brothers and I were drinking one night and they jokingly asked if I needed a pet.”

Rhysand snarls at the way the word makes you flinch, eyes frantic and foggy like you were right there again—reliving the humiliation, the fear and disgust that brewed within for not being able to protect yourself. It had been part of the reason you’d trained so hard when you had escaped. Promising to never let any male degrade you in such a way again.

Eris rips at hundreds of years worth of healed scars in seconds, teeth thrashing and blood coating his maw while he tore you apart and exposed you for all to see.

You shrink in your chair and Rhysand’s heart clenched at the way he feels you go distant, staring at Eris but not really seeing the room before you; as if the eldest son of the Autumn Court had weaseled his way inside your head like Rhys could. There’s no explaining the way the air had stilled, High Lords exchanging apprehensive glances, murmuring words to Baron to tell his son to stop but Eris refuses to listen—drunk off the power and high off of your pain.

You can feel wetness on your face, your hands; it’s seeping through your pants and you can’t quite understand why. Not when Eris has his claws sunk deep within, waving the red flag bloodied with all of your secrets for all to observe. Like a show in the amphitheater, trapped in your own mind you relive every moment, deep sobs racking your body so badly the table shook with your emotion. Rhysand is beginning to gather you, shaping dark magic around your body so no one can see or hear you but the magic doesn’t hold, you’re too unstable—emotions too high and powers brewing on overdrive as it reacted to your distress. “I can’t breathe.”

Eris ignores your struggle, the way you are clearly drowning and fighting with all your might stay afloat but he keeps dragging you back down and genuine happiness is glowing on his skin at your reaction. “Spent all week mulling it over but I was walking through town and saw this display in a window,” He lets out a little chuckle, leaning in closer with fingers tapping casually against the mahogany wood, preening when you shrink away from him. “—a collar and a leash and it just hits me. My little pet. Come on, tell me you remember me putting it on you for the first time.”

Rhysand takes a more aggressive approach, protective nature on overdrive as you sob so hard you barely have time to suck in more air. Your hands are clawing at your throat, nails digging in, drawing blood and Rhys’ head whips back, double checking that Eris really hadn’t been using a daemati but when he looks into your mind—the towering walls inside are no more.

Rubble and glass is scattered everywhere in thick chunks like it’d been torn apart from the inside out, the plumes of smoke is scratchy in Rhys’ lungs but he keeps forward and right in the middle; covered in rags and bruises, ribs showing and cheeks gaunt, lashes and burns that covered more than it didn’t—was you.

With that damn collar around your throat.

“Don’t be like that, Rhysand,” Eris cackles in the background but it sounds like he’s doing it right in your ear. Your cheeks are red with your own blood and when Rhysand goes to help you stand, you’re putty in his hands. “I hadn’t even gotten to the fun part yet!” There are soft words, a palm cradling the back of your head as the High Lord of the Night Court picked you up and winnowed you away.

—

Azriel is waiting in the foyer when Rhysand returns with you in his arms, still sobbing but he’s calmed you enough to stop the scratching. Thick, angry lines assault your neck, blood pouring free and the moment he’d conjured up and illusion for your mind of you breaking free of that collar and burning it forever, did you stop fighting.

“What happened?” The shadow singer hissed, clearing the space between them and when his hand hovers over you, inches away from touching, another deep cry pulls through. “What the fuck did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Rhysand snaps back with equal intensity, violet eyes blazing with anger and deep, unsettling worry as you clutched so tight on his shirt he was sure it’d rip. “Call the madja, right now!”

Rhysand urges away a worried Elaine but eventually stops fighting it when you seem to calm in her presence. Falling into action easily, Elaine followed close beside, dress swishing against the glossy floors while humming some soothing tune that had your sobs settling into broken hiccups and soft whimpers. Mor seems to appear out of nowhere, face firm and gaze hot when she regards her cousin and it takes no more than a second before you’ve been transferred into her hold. Nesta falls in tow, already equipped with thick blankets and steaming tea. “Just go,” Mor huffs out, her hands raking through your hair as she leads you to your room. “We’ve got her.”

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acotar x you #high lord rhysand #rhys acotar #rhysand x reader #rhysand #rhysand angst #nesta archeron #azriel #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #eris vanserra #send asks #acotar

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 6 months ago

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Miraculous Ladybug Season 5 - An Overview

Well... that certainly was... the fifth season of Miraculous Ladybug.

While I was overall mixed on Season 4 with how much it varied in quality, I think I have a more concrete opinion of Season 5.

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Yeah, this season was a real pain to review, but not for the reason you'd think. Most of the episodes were either dull or average, so there wasn't a lot for me to really talk about. Of course, when things were bad, dear lord, were they bad. This analysis is somehow longer than my Season 4 one and the ranking post. Other than real life stuff getting in the way, there's a damn good reason why this took so long to finish. I basically wrote a college thesis on this season.

The Things I Liked About Season 5

Let's get all the good things about this season out of the way first.

For one thing, one of my biggest complaints about Season 4 was sort of rectified, the portrayal of Adrien. While I still have problems with him (which I'll get to in a later section), they're more about his impact on the story. As for his personality and attitude, it's a big step up. There's much less complaining, he's more active in the action, and is far more intelligent. Compared to Season 4, where Cat Noir was affected by an Akuma's powers or taken out of commission in order to raise the stakes eleven times (Lies, Mr. Pigeon 72, Mega Leech, Guiltrip, Optigami, Sentibubbler, Wishmaker, Simpleman, Ephemeral, Penalteam, Risk), here, funnily enough, it only really happened five times in Season 5 (Jubilation, Illusion, Derision, Emotion, The Final Day). It's honestly amazing. There were times where I thought he was going to be taken out or get portrayed as an idiot, but that almost never happened this season. Even some of the weaker episodes this season featured Adrien in a more active role, like “Passion”, “Reunion”, “Elation”, and “Deflagration”.

Also, as much of a problem that I have with Cat Noir trying to Cataclysm his enemies, I'm glad that the show at least tries to acknowledge this by showing his worst nightmare is a world where everyone is dead because of him. It's not handled well, and it's only done just to bench him for the finale, but I'll at least give the writers credit for putting in the effort to give him more nuance. It's a hell of a lot better than what they did with Gabriel, but I'll get to him later. By extension, his relationship with Ladybug is much more tolerable. The two work together well, talk about the conflict with Monarch more often, and for the most part, feel like actual partners. Yeah, that dynamic falls apart towards the end of the season, but again, I'll give the writers an A+ for effort.

Another thing I like is that this season tries to focus more on character pieces, with episodes focusing on characters like Nathalie (Passion), Kagami (Perfection), Luka (Migration), and Zoe (Adoration). They're not handled the best, but I'm glad the show is at least trying to give the supporting characters time in the spotlight, even though they don't have their Miraculous anymore.

Speaking of, I like the idea of the Alliance rings. It's really the only time Gabriel actually takes advantage of his status as one of the most influential people in Paris to push the use of something specifically designed to help give his Akumas more power. Given how prevelant the marketing for Alliance rings is, it's easy to see his plan working in the long term.

We also had a couple decent new Akuma designs, like Safari, Bugfighter, and... uh... Yeah, I got nothing else. This is pretty much the most praise this season is going to get from me. Sure, I'll go into some other aspects I like during later sections, but other than that, this is it. Hell, even the parts I listed earlier are only mentioned for the ideas they present, not the way they're executed.

The Final Season... Of Filler

We've finally made it to Season 5, the climax of the conflict with Monarch. This is going to be epic, with all kinds of compelling stories that can be used for episodes, leading to a final product that will go down as—my God, why is this season so boring?!

Like I said earlier, this season was a lot harder to review than Season 4 was, and this was one of the biggest reasons why. As bad as that season was, I at least had stuff to talk about. Here? Almost nothing. A good chunk of the episodes I reviewed just didn't leave an impact on me. Most of them were either forgettable, mediocre, or just okay. Some of the episodes had decent ideas and a handful of good scenes, but it wasn't really enough to reach the highs of earlier seasons, including Season 4.

It's strange, because at first, it seemed like the show was learning from its mistakes during the first three episodes of this season. “Evolution”, “Multiplication”, and “Destruction” were far from perfect, but you could at least tell the show was trying something different. There was tighter continuity, clever mind games on both sides, a rare instance of nonlinear storytelling, and major changes to the status quo. They explained why Monarch can't just beat up Ladybug and Cat Noir himself, why the Rabbit and Rooster Miraculous can't be used to end the story, and why the Alliance rings were created.

When Ladybug got the Rabbit Miraculous after failing to get the other fourteen back, you would think that this would lead to an arc where Ladybug and Cat Noir gradually reclaimed the Miraculous from Monarch until the final battle, but what did we get instead in terms of plot development?

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For what was supposed to be the final season, it felt like almost nothing happened. Sure, as always, the show tried to trick us into thinking stuff was happening, but several plotlines introduced this season were either abandoned or rushed through after a few episodes. The Resistance? Only relevant for five episodes, and even then, they didn't do much (Illusion, Deflagration, Confrontation, Revolution, Representation). Trying to discover how Monarch is giving the Akumas Miraculous powers? Only relevant in a single episode (Illusion). Felix having the Peacock Miraculous and being a total wild card? Only relevant for three episodes (Emotion, Pretension, Representation). The reverse Love Square? Only relevant for four episodes before it petered out (Determination, Passion, Reunion, Elation). Lila manipulating Kagami for some reason? Only relevant for two, maybe three episodes if you count that one scene in “Emotion”, and that was dropped in favor of her learning Monarch's identity offscreen (Perfection, Protection).

You'd think for a season with stakes this high, there would be bigger stories or more character drama, but we got nothing. The only real ongoing story we got was the Love Square finally happening, and trust me, I'll get to that later. There were plenty of ideas for story arcs here, but the writers pretty much ignored all of them.

Retcons! Retcons Everywhere!

This one's shorter, because it's a problem with the show in general, and I'll go into more detail about specific examples of this later on.

Miraculous Ladybug is a show that has always struggled to be consistent with its lore, worldbuilding, characters, story, and... well, a lot of things. I've talked about how often the show retcons things in order to justify whatever story they need to tell, not just for individual episodes, but story arcs too. There were so many episodes with stories that contradicted previous events or changed the motivations of certain characters on a whim.

In case you didn't keep track, here's a little highlight reel of some of the retcons this season.

Evolution: After both him and Ladybug were able to use multiple unifications last season with no problem, Monarch can't use too many of his powers without collapsing in pain. It also goes against what was established in “Kwamibuster”, the idea of using multiple Miraculous being enough to damage your sanity, where here, Monarch's body is damaged.

Multiplication: Adrien's reason for falling for Marinette was due to all the times she helped him, when it was usually the other way around in earlier seasons.

Determination: Adrien reveals he's had feelings for Marinette since the events of “The Puppeteer 2”, even though it never influenced any of their interactions between that episode and this one. It also contrasts the previous episode, where it said that Adrien was just starting to fall for Marinette for different reasons.

Derision: Chloe's bullying of Marinette had severe psychological damage that explains why she acts the way she does around Adrien... but ignores the romantic feelings Marinette has had for Luka and Cat Noir, and didn't act the same way around them, to say nothing about how she acted around Nathaniel when he had a crush on her during “The Evillustrator ”.

Intuition: The Snake Miraculous somehow makes Gabriel's Cataclysm wound worse even though the form of time travel it uses is mental, not physical.

Protection: Gabriel and Tomoe want their children to be in a relationship, yet Adrien and Kagami kept it a secret while they were dating.

Adoration: Zoe suddenly has feelings for Marinette despite showing no signs of it beforehand.

Emotion: Felix reveals he's doing everything for Adrien's safety, even though in his previous few appearances, he's done nothing but screw his cousin over by smearing his public image.

Pretension: Felix is against using a Sentimonster to defend himself and Kagami due to not wanting to force an innocent creature to follow his orders, yet he had no problem using a Sentimonster in the very last episode and in his next appearance.

Revelation: Lila has multiple secret identities she uses while pretending to be the child of several women, which had never come up at all during the last four seasons.

Representation: Kagami apparently learned Marinette was Ladybug right before she was akumatized in “Perfection”, yet Monarch didn't learn this like he did with Luka.

Do you see the problem here? Hell, I didn't even list every single retcon, or else we'd be here all day.

I don't get how a show that wants to be serialized can keep changing details like this. It's not even a case of the show replacing its writers with new ones who don't know as much as the old ones. This is mostly the same writing team for almost four seasons at this point.

Sometimes, the show will retcon stuff in order to justify stories when it doesn't need to. Remember how at the beginning of the season, Marinette was feeling guilty about her failure at the end of Season 4, and that influences her hesitance to accept Adrien's advances? The writers sure didn't, as “Derision” exists to give Marinette a whole new reason to not be comfortable around Adrien. Why the hell would you give Marinette a perfectly valid reason to not want to pursue Adrien, only to write an episode that gives her a different reason to not want to pursue Adrien? There was literally no reason to do this, especially during the last season of your first major story arc!

This season is clearly trying to be the most serialized of the bunch, yet the writers keep changing details about the story like that one Wallace and Gromit meme.

Season 5: The Show's Greatest Hits Album

Something I've noticed about this season is just how repetitive it can be. I know that sounds weird given this is a show that literally gave us the Status Quo-Yo, but please hear me out.

So many major story arcs and focus episodes are just rehashed versions of older things in this show, and not just the reused Akumas. Not only does the first half of Season 5 restate how complicated things are for Marinette's love live and how she can't love Adrien after what she did (something she gets over rather anticlimactically once Adrien confesses). Then there are other times where even plotlines established this season will get reused, and more often than not, it's worse.

In “Perfection”, Kagami is akumatized thanks to Lila's lies, and manages to break free from Monarch's influence thanks to her friends showing that they care for her. And then four episodes later, Kagami is akumatized again thanks to Lila's lies, only this time, she isn't able to break free. What... what was the point of having that emotional scene in “Perfection” if you're just going to treat her like a run of the mill Akuma a few episodes later?

And it's not just that. Big moments that happened in earlier seasons are pretty much redone but with a few changes to make it seem like they're different. Did you like seeing Adrien give up being Cat Noir in “Kuro Neko”? Well how about seeing Adrien and Marinette give up being superheroes in “The Kwamis' Choice”? Did you like seeing Chloe break off her friendship with Adrien in “Queen Banana”? How does seeing Adrien break off his friendship with Chloe in “Derision” sound?

But the worst of this has to be in the last seven episodes of the season. So much of what is essentially the culmination of five seasons' worth of story is just recycled. Let's go over why. In “Confrontation”, Marinette (and by her, I mean Sabrina with help from Marinette) manages to outsmart Chloe and Lila and put an end to their tyranny in the classroom. What are the next two episodes about? Marinette needing to outsmart Chloe and Lila, only now, they have reign over the city. This feels like something that should have been one major story, not something split up into two two-parters. Hell, you can't even say it's original to see Chloe in control, because this is also something that was done back in Season 1's “Rogercop”, only with the titular and the police following his orders for no reason instead of Chloe and her bootleg Daleks.

But hey, if an army of robots capable of using Miraculous powers, at least we can expect something even more creative for Monarch's ultimate plan, right? Yeah, Project “Perfect Alliance” is just a combination of Chloe's murder boxes and the exact same plan in “Heroes' Day”. People are brainwashed like in “Heroes' Day” and they get Miraculous powers like the robots in “Revolution”. Seriously? Nobody took a look at this and thought “Didn't we do this already?”

What's the point of making these two different evil plans when they're essentially the same thing? Why not give Chloe's robots various weapons instead of Miraculous powers if you're going to have an army of villains who have the same Miraculous powers two episodes later? Why not make it so the Miraculized are really the robots designed to help Chloe, only here, they have the ability to turn anyone wearing an Alliance ring into one of them, sort of like the Borg from Star Trek?

It's clear that after four seasons, the writing on this show has gotten incredibly stagnant if the major plotlines are just reused from earlier seasons. At best, it comes across like blatant fanservice, and at worst, it's a symptom of the writers struggling to come up with new ideas for stories. Either way, this is one of many reasons why not a lot of people are looking forward to Season 6. How can you expect interesting stories in the future when the writers keep recycling their old ones?

Felix and the Struggle With Sentimonsters or: This Is Starting to Sound Like a Bad Comic Book Plot!

Before I get into the problems with Felix this season, consider this: With Chloe (who I'll get to later), she was an example of someone who wouldn't get a redemption arc. Felix? This is the writers intentionally trying write a redemption arc. How did that turn out?

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The obvious problem with Felix is mostly due to, like a lot of things in this show, poor time management. He only had three focus episodes, and in that time, the writers needed to explain his motivations, establish him as a wild card, have him realize the error of his ways, develop his relationship with Kagami, and help out Marinette. They really wanted to do a lot with Felix, yet with how rushed his arc was, I have to wonder if there was some trouble behind the scenes that prevented him from getting more focus.

It doesn't help that what little we got was confusing as all hell. I've already gone into detail about the problems with Felix's motivations not explaining his actions, but here's a list of all the problems with Felix.

If Felix wanted to get the Peacock Miraculous from the start, why didn't he try stealing that in “Felix”?

If Felix cared about Adrien, why did he spend most of his appearances mocking him and ruining his reputation by impersonating him in “Felix”, “Gabriel Agreste”, “Risk”, “Emotion”, and “Representation”?

If Felix knew who Gabriel was, why did he come up with this elaborate plan to get the Peacock Miraculous in a trade with him instead of going to Ladybug for help in “Strikeback”?

If Felix realized Gabriel was dangerous and capable of wiping him out, why did he decide to give him fifteen Miraculous in exchange for a single Miraculous without doing anything to stop him in “Strikeback”?

If Felix could easily get rid of Gabriel with a single Sentimonster like he did in “Emotion”, why didn't he immediately do that as soon as he got the Peacock Miraculous in “Strikeback”?

If Felix wanted to stop Gabriel, why did he decide to wipe out all of humanity alongside him in “Emotion”?

If Felix cared about innocent lives, why did he decide to wipe out all of humanity without showing any remorse except for when he had to get rid of Red Moon in “Emotion”?

If Felix didn't want to create any Sentimonsters just to end their lives in “Pretention”, why did he do just that in “Representation”?

If Felix knew Marinette was Ladybug, why did he choose to tell her who Gabriel was in an unnecessarily complicated way instead of telling it straight to her face in “Representation”?

If Felix really hated his abusive father, why didn't he show any hatred for Gabriel (who gave Colt the damaged Peacock Miraculous and did nothing to stop the abuse) as well during his little play in “Representation”?

If Felix cared about stopping Gabriel, why did he only decide to go to Ladybug for help when Gabriel was getting in the way of his relationship with Kagami in “Representation”?

If Felix was willing to tell Marinette about Gabriel being Monarch in “Representation”, why didn't he do anything else to help her stop Monarch in “Comformation” and “Re-Creation”?

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With how many flaws his plans have, I'm surprised Felix hasn't said anything along the lines of “My pwan is gweat!”

For someone who claims to be doing a lot of things for Adrien, Felix tends to either screw over his cousin as part of his plans or forget him entirely. I don't mean he screws over Cat Noir, as his identity is one of the few things he doesn't know, but rather, how little his plans actually benefit Adrien. Putting aside his previous appearances in Seasons 3 and 4, in the span of a single episode, Felix pretended to be his cousin and smeared his public image, used a Sentimonster to wipe out all of his friends and loved ones while needing to be told by Adrien that doing so wasn't cool, and after that, he pretty much abandoned caring about Adrien.

Yeah, starting with “Pretension”, the writers once again change gears so Felix's primary goal is to help Kagami, not Adrien. It's Kagami that really helps inspire Felix's true turn to good, it's Kagami who he chooses to visit when she and Adrien are taken to London, and it's Kagami that helps him decide to tell Marinette Monarch's identity. Even though he only has three major appearances, the writers still decided to shake up his character arc for some reason. How does a team of paid writers struggle to stay consistent with any story or character arc they've written?

The worst part is that for a redemption arc, Felix shows little to no remorse for his actions. Not once does he apologize to anyone he's personally wronged, like Adrien, Marinette, or Kagami. He doesn't see anything wrong with giving Monarch more power and depriving Ladybug of almost all of her allies, and he had to be told that wiping all of humanity from existence was a bad thing. Felix has done so many terrible things in his quest for freedom, which isn't a bad idea, as it could make for an interesting discussion about whether the ends justify the means, but the show doesn't go that route. Instead, despite doing almost nothing but making things worse for Ladybug and Cat Noir, we're supposed to see Felix as a great person who just wants to have friends. Sure, having good social skills is a big part of being able to manipulate others, but let's just ignore all the people he's tricked and assume he doesn't know how to properly socialize with someone without stalking them.

It doesn't help that of all the characters this season, Felix makes the most progress in stopping Monarch. Puting aside his little genocide attempt in “Emotion”, he actually made an attempt to take Gabriel out of the equation, and later on, passed on intel about his true identity to Marinette. Think about that for a second. Marinette, despite being a hero with the ability to deduce what to do from simple clues given to her, isn't the one to figure out Monarch's identity. Instead, she has to be told who Monarch is, and is able to beat him only because Felix told her what to do. The worst part is that Felix doesn't even take part in the final battle when he has no excuse to not get involved. Remember, he doesn't have to worry about getting snapped away by Gabriel, so even though he cares so much about Adrien and Kagami, he does nothing to save either of them from their glorified solitary confinement.

Felix isn't a character. He's a glorified plot device who only shows up to advance the story instead of letting any character make progress by themselves. While Marinette and Adrien are focusing more on their love lives this season, Felix is the one actually getting things done. Because God forbid the two characters the show is named after actually do anything to stop the villain this season, am I right?

And that's not even getting into the Sentimonster stuff. Yep, to our collective horror, not only is Felix a Sentimonster, but it's also hinted that Adrien and Kagami are Sentimonsters too. I'm not sure why the writers are so hesitant to flat out say the latter two are Sentimonsters after all the obvious hints, especially when this is a show that loves to overly explain every plot detail and character trait. I don't know. Maybe they're just hedging their bets in case things don't go over well with audiences, but I can't possibly see anything bad coming from this. After all, how can you think of any uncomfortable implications stemming from the three major victims of child abuse literally being inhuman monsters who are physically unable to resist their abusers' orders?

With the Sentimonster “reveal”, Adrien and Kagami, two characters who were previously doing their best to be independent from their parents as they could at their age, are now physically incapable of even having a single negative thought about them without being ordered around while showing no resistance. Like I've mentioned before, it's a blatant retcon because it's never explained why Gabriel and Tomoe didn't do this during Seasons 2 and 3. It also gives the writers the opportunity to remove any agency Adrien and Kagami have in the plot, even though one is one of the two main characters, and the other plays a crucial role in helping another character expose the main villain's identity.

We're supposed to see Gabriel and Tomoe as wrong for ignoring their children's protests and forcing them to do things they don't want to do, but it doesn't lead to an arc where Adrien and Kagami rebel against their parents and break free from their influences. As soon as either Gabriel and Tomoe touch their respective rings, Adrien and Kagami are completely helpless, and there's no way for them to resist because of how powerful the link with their Amoks is. There's no hint that they have the potential to break free from their Amoks' influence, and the only time we saw that happen, it was a complete accident that Felix didn't even cause (Representation). Adrien and Kagami are both reduced to damsels in distress thanks to being Sentimonsters, and even though the show is trying to say they're trapped in a terrible situation, there's never a way out.

The most Adrien and Kagami do is express frustration with their situation, but most of the progress made in escaping their bad relationships is done by their respective love interests, Marinette and Felix. Yes, support systems are important, but rather than help Adrien and Kagami earn their freedom, Marinette and Felix do pretty much all of the work to save them during the latter half of this season. Hell, they couldn't even get that completely done by the time of the finale! Gabriel dropped dead and Adrien thinks he's a hero and Kagami's still living with Tomoe, only now she has her Amok ring. We're supposed to see this as a happy ending when they're both still influenced by their abusive parents, even if they don't have any physical control over them. The whole idea behind making Adrien and Kagami Sentimonsters should have been something about them, but with Gabriel and Tomoe, the writers only see them as helpless victims who can't do anything to save themselves. Sure, both of them have fought supervillains before, but we can't have them actually showing agency, can we?

I'm going to get into other ways Adrien and Kagami's characters were butchered this season, but for now, let's get into all the uncomfortable things this plotline implies. Now before I go any further, just remember that I am far from an expert on abuse or child psychology, so please take what I say with a heavy grain of salt. If there is anyone reading this who is a victim of abuse or knows someone who was, please don't be afraid to speak your mind about my analysis or correct me if I get any details wrong.

I get that making Adrien, Kagami, and Felix Sentimonsters was probably done so it'd be a way to explain the concept of child abuse to younger audiences, specifically to show how helpless the situation can be for victims, but the problem is how the allegory is handled. It wants to show how cruel the idea of child abuse is, but it doesn't want to outright vilify abusers like Gabriel or Tomoe. They usually try to sugarcoat it by saying that the two have good reasons for doing what they do, but that's a common problem with abusers. Abusive parents almost always believe that they're doing the right thing while their children think that they're just being punished for their own good, and the season ultimately takes that stance by the end.

The show is clearly trying to use the Sentimonster concept to tell a story about abuse, but I have no idea what exactly it's trying to say about it. “Child abuse is bad”? Okay, then why aren't you going to condemn the abusive parents for being abusive parents? And no, brief mentions of abusive parents who we never actually see onscreen don't count (Derision, Pretension, Representation). “Help out abused children”? Big talk coming from the season that only has two people actually fight to help the victims of child abuse, while treating another victim of child abuse as getting her just desserts (Revolution). “Parents have good reasons to do what they do”? Yeah, that normally applies to stopping your kid from getting a tattoo, not forcing them to whatever they want against their will.

The thing about writing abuse is that you need to acknowledge just how unhealthy it is, and do whatever it takes to take them out of the toxic environment. Here, nobody ever tries to remove Adrien from the toxic environment or tell him that what his father is doing isn't right. Sure, Felix tries to take Kagami away from her abusive mother, but that was only for like an hour at most, and then he just let her go back to her mother. Adrien doesn't even get that luxury. Hell, he isn't even allowed to know just how terrible his father was because he's just a sensitive baby according to the show. Portraying abuse victims as too emotionally fragile to know the truth is a pretty bad idea because, like I mentioned before, a big problem that abuse victims go through is that they're conditioned to see their treatment as normal at best, or see it as their fault at worst.

Like so many other serious topics discussed in this show, the writers clearly want to tell a story about abuse, but they're too afraid to actually take a proper stance on it, so they kept trying to play it safe in an attempt to not get backlash from audiences. Of course, because of that, they ended up portraying victims of child abuse as soulless husks who have almost no free will of their own, while ending the season by having them still under the influence of their abusive parents, even the dead one. Real bang-up job, there, writers. It says a lot when a Spider-Man PSA from almost 35 years ago did a better job tackling child abuse than you did.

And finally, let's talk about how this season's treatment of Sentimonsters indirectly influences our perception of them across the past two seasons. Even though the Sentimonsters created have shown almost no individuality from Seasons 2 to 4, only now are we supposed to see them as sentient beings, with Felix himself even taking offense at the idea at being called a Sentimonster. Never mind the fact that Felix never actually comes up with a proper alternative, so he just comes across as whiny when we're supposed to see him as a champion of the Sentimonsters.

In regards to the narrative the show decided it now wants to tell about Sentimonsters, I have two questions.

First, why should I care about Sentimonsters if the previous two seasons have portrayed them as nothing but soulless killing machines? If you're going to write a plot twist that changes the way we see Sentimonsters, you need to explain why we were wrong to only assume they're dangerous, especially since Argos' first Sentimonster literally wiped out all of humanity. For comparison, Ultraman Z did a similar plotline by having the main character realize that several of the monsters he killed as the titular hero weren't intentionally trying to harm humanity, so it caused him to doubt himself as a hero before he vowed to start finding non-violent ways to stop monsters if he could, while viewing the act of killing monsters that couldn't be reasoned with as a necessary evil. This show has no such arc and just expects us to ignore all the damage the Sentimonsters have caused since the end of Season 2.

Second, what about the Sentimonsters whose lives have been snuffed out by Mayura, Shadowmoth, and even Ladybug? The writers want us to sympathize with Sentimonsters and believe they get a bad rap? That's fine, but even if we did, what about the ones who were already wiped out of existence? Are we just not going to talk about them? Why should we only value the lives of Felix, Adrien, and Kagami and not any of the other Sentimonsters created in previous episodes? What, because they're not main characters, their lives don't matter?

All in all, everything about the Sentimonster was either poorly thought out or too preachy to take seriously, and Felix is emblematic of those problems with how he and the Sentimonsters are written. Oh right, I forgot Felix had a sidekick too, Kimberly—I mean, Kagami.

Kagami Never Hesitates to Be a Complete Idiot

If you read my overview of Season 4, I sang high praises for how Alya was written. Season 4 managed to take a character I had previously disliked and turn her into one of my favorite characters in the show. Now, with that being said, I want you to imagine the opposite of that happening to a different character, and you have my feelings on Kagami this season.

It's weird how, after she had made it through the past three seasons with her character somewhat intact, the writers decided to give her even more prominence by involving her in two separate arcs this season... and only made her nothing more than a damsel in distress who constantly needed to be saved in both of them. I'm not saying that Kagami should be able to beat the crap out of Monarch with her bare hands, but my point is that Kagami just lost so much agency this season.

When she wasn't being manipulated by Lila (Perfection, Protection), she was playing second fiddle to Felix and acting like he didn't hand over almost every Miraculous in Ladybug's possession to Monarch (Pretension, Representation). It's really strange, considering a defining character trait of hers is her hating liars like Marinette does, since it's why she dumped Adrien, yet here, she gets tangled up in the schemes of two different liars, Lila and Felix. I can at least get Lila (as dumb as her episodes are), since she's supposed to be seen as this master manipulator, but she just brushes all of Felix's crimes aside because he “doesn't know how to express himself”. Because even though she's always been loyal to Ladybug, she has no problem working with one of the only two people to betray her trust. But she loves Felix, so that makes it all okay.

What made Alya's arc last season work was that even though she was primarily Marinette's confidant, we also got episodes showing her struggling to balance her own desires with what needed to be done for the greater good (Optigami, Sentibubbler, Hack-San, Rocketear). She had to step up and become more than just one of the many temp heroes Ladybug called on, someone trustworthy enough to temporarily use the Ladybug Miraculous. Yes, she made bad calls, but when things went south because of her bad decisions, she normally took responsibility for her actions and vowed to do better. With Kagami, we don't get any internal conflict like that at all. She just blindly goes along with whatever Lila and Felix say, and even when bad things happen as a result, she never even thinks to call out either of them other than rarely saying something along the lines of “Hey, not cool.” (Protection, Pretension).

Kagami just doesn't get to do anything on her own terms this season. Her entire arc revolves around following Lila and Felix around like a lost puppy. And just remember, we're seriously supposed to act like Kagami is trustworthy enough to see that her defending Felix from Ladybug is enough to prove that he's a good person deep down... when this same season showed her easily falling for Lila's lies and getting akumatized twice as a result. It's like believing Dr. Nick can perform a life-saving kidney transplant after seeing him botch an open-heart surgery.

Even Kagami figuring out Marinette is Ladybug, something that should be a big deal like with Alya and Luka learning last season, is something we learn through a flashback and is, you guessed it, is only relevant to one of Felix's plans. And yeah, reveal your friend's secret to someone who someone who betrayed her. What could possibly go wrong? Again, when Alya screwed up, she was at least able to admit it to Marinette's face. Kagami never tells Marinette that she knows, and never faces consequences for throwing her lot in with Felix. What's her excuse, that she has too much love in her heart for Felix?

Speaking of which, let's talk about the biggest problem I have with Kagami this season, the way her relationship with Felix is handled. Let me make one thing clear: my problem isn't with people who ship the two together. Much like with the Love Square, my problem is how the show handles this romance. The two had almost no episodes together, and from what little we saw of them interacting, Kagami didn't like him, and for obvious reasons. But then “Pretension” came. Not only did Felix develop feelings for Kagami offscreen, all it took for Kagami to fall for Felix was a single conversation where he showed basic human decency. Yeah, Marinette fell for Adrien for similar reasons, but at least she and him took a while to actually get together. These two shared a handful of conversations, and now they're just made for each other.

The problem with this is that the relationship basically reduces Kagami to Felix's girlfriend and sidekick. All of her major appearances post-“Emotion” were in relation to Felix. She only helps him because of their relationship, and their relationship was the whole reason why Kagami convinced Felix to do what he should have done from the start, tell Ladybug who Monarch was... even though Astruc said this kind of relationship was toxic when discussing Lukloe.

You see, the difference between Lukloe and Feligami is (MAKE UP EXPLANATION LATER AND DON'T ACCIDENTALLY LEAVE THIS SPOT BLANK). And that's why we shouldn't see this as blatant hypocrisy on Astruc's part.

While it's par for the course, given how almost every female character in this show is connected to a male character in some way, the way Kagami is written this season is still part of a bigger problem. Kagami is not everyone's favorite character and not one people fiercely discuss as much as Marinette, Adrien, or even Chloe, but it's still baffling that out of all the characters in this season, Kagami would arguably sustain the most damage out of the entire cast. Given that this is the same season as Nino becoming the braindead leader of the Resistance, Chloe's brief stint as a tyrannical mayor, Nathalie choosing to do nothing about Gabriel until she was about to die, the baffling reveal of who Lila supposedly is (again, more on these later), or... really, a lot of things with both Marinette and Adrien, this is actually saying a lot. If you want to look at it at a particular angle, Kagami's actually a direct victim of practically all of the biggest problems in this season and I've had to mention her a lot more in this analysis than I anticipated. Then again, I suppose that's me showing more care to Kagami as a character than the writers did.

The Story of The Resistance (In Name Only)

I've already gone on about how underdeveloped most of the temp heroes are, so you can imagine the season where they try to help Ladybug without superpowers doesn't really change my opinion of them.

Remember how in episodes like Season 1's “Antibug”, Season 2's “The Dark Owl”, and even this season's “Jubilation” made it clear that trying to be a superhero without a Miraculous or proper training was essentially suicide? You know, how it was better to leave things to the actual superheroes? Well the writers sure didn't, as now we get to see a bunch of idiots try to take on supervillains with paintball guns and whatever they can throw at them. I'm pretty sure the writers put more effort into all the codenames themed after condiments than actually coming up with creative ways to fight Akumas. Because we all know how hilarious (citation needed) the flower codename gag from “Gigantitan” was, so let's do something like that, but for multiple episodes this season.

I'm just going to be blunt here when I say the Resistance this season sucked. Putting aside the fact that the writers couldn't come up with a less generic name or a name that wasn't already taken by the Ox Miraculous' power, this subplot was just so pointless. You have a team of former heroes who want to find a way to help Ladybug and Cat Noir stop Monarch, and rather than do things like pass intel along or find ways to stop people from getting akumatized, they decide to try taking them on themselves with their most powerful weapons being paintball guns. Congratulations, you now have all the equipment you need to take on Bart Simpson in a fight. Sure, they try to pass on intel to Ladybug and Cat Noir in their first episode, “Illusion”, but Nino's plan was so stupid, they ended up helping Monarch in the long term by letting his civilian identity into their team. Oh, I'm sorry, did you forget how Gabriel and Lila were inducted into the Resistance at the end of “Illusion”? It's okay, the writers did too.

And the idea of them passing on intel could have worked, as it would give Marinette a support system to help solve problems she can't figure out on her own, following up on her character arc from Season 4 where she learns to put her trust in people, but like a lot of things this season, the writers got bored halfway through and decided to change up this plotline. Now, they're prepared to fight anyone who gets akumatized. How many Akumas did the Resistance manage to stop completely on their own? One, and it was offscreen (Deflagration).

Trying to make the Resistance seem competent and effective comes at the price of making the villains look like idiots who can't handle a few teenagers without superpowers. Monarbug, someone who managed to unify with the Ladybug Miraculous, lost it thanks to the Resistance dogpiling him. Then, later on, they managed to stop Nightormentor, an akumatized Gabriel, by just throwing stuff at him. Do you have any idea how lame this makes Monarch look? It's like that scene from Robocop 3 where that kid somehow managed to make ED-209 as loyal as a puppy in a matter of seconds. It's not cool to see it happen. It diminishes the threat the formerly menacing villain posed.

The show loves to play up the Resistance as this amazing underground organization Nino is so proud of, but it doesn't work because you can count the number of times they've actually helped out on one hand, and even then, that's being that word Chloe doesn't know the meaning of (Deflagration, Revolution, Representation). Even then, they still fall for Lila's lies which, like Kagami, doesn't help establish any of them as trustworthy. The whole Resistance subplot is basically an excuse to make it seem like the former temp heroes aren't just sitting around, which again, isn't a bad idea, but nothing comes of it. We don't get to see any of them worry that they can't do anything without their Miraculous, we don't see where or when Nino got the idea to form the Resistance, and we don't even get any scenes where the worry about the captured Kwamis. The show just has them all operate under the same goal and makes it seem like they're making a difference when they barely do anything. None of them really feel like characters, and it shows this season.

Nino, despite labeling himself as the brave leader of the Resistance, is anything but. He constantly brags about how effective he is, but not only does he let anyone into his top secret organization without even thinking if they can really be trusted, all of his genius plans amount to, you guessed it, throwing stuff at the brainwashed people with superpowers. He's also so confident that he was awesome as Carapace when all he did was occasionally help Ladybug out with his Shelter, and then whines about not being chosen by Tikki and Plagg when Scarabella and Kitty Noire temporarily take over (Illusion, Deflagration). He's also so poor at gathering intel that not only did he fall for Gabriel's ruse and act like he figured out how the Akumas have Miraculous powers, he didn't even know his best friend was going to London until he got on the plane (Representation). I wasn't kidding when I said Nino was such a terrible leader, he makes Zapp Brannigan look competent by comparison.

And remember when Alya was a major character? Neither does the show! Out of the entire season, she was really only relevant to the plot when she became Scarabella for a few days, and even then, she didn't think that maybe she should take off the Alliance ring that monitors her every move if she's going to be a full-time hero again (Transmission, Deflagration). There is absolutely no follow-up to anything that happened to her in Season 4. She doesn't regret blowing her cover, she doesn't worry over not being able to help Ladybug as Rena Rouge, she doesn't worry about the safety of Trixx, she doesn't even consider the fact that she's not used to going back to full-time hero work after half a season of being undercover as Rena Furtive. At best, the whole thing with Alya exposing her cover to Nino last season gets played off for the sake of a cheap joke (Illusion).

Then there's Zoe. Like Season 4, I can definitely say that out of all the supporting characters, she was certainly one of them. They clearly try to give her these big moments in an attempt to endear her to the audience, like her brief stint as Kitty Noire or her coming out to Marinette, but because of how nonexistent her character development has been, these don't feel earned. I can't buy her friendship with Marinette or anyone else because of how little she appears. Hell, she was specifically introduced to act as a good counterpart to Chloe, and she did nothing to really contribute to her ultimate downfall other than sharing a single conversation during “Revolution”. That's how little the writers care about her, they don't even have her interact with the character she was designed to replace. I take back what I said about her being a Mary Sue way back in my “Sole Crusher” review, because at least those types of characters get plenty of focus in the narrative. All I can really say about Zoe after two seasons is that at least she's more interesting than Socqueline, a character so boring, this is the only time I'm going to mention her in this entire analysis.

And that's it for the Resistance. Only three side characters are actually worth talking about this season. That is how pointless of a group they are.

Chloe’s Arc That, in Case You Forgot, Was Totally Planned From the Start

I really don't know what else to say here. Remember, this entire blog was started because of how upset I was by Astruc's response to criticism of the Season 3 finale, specifically how Chloe's “damnation arc” was claimed to have planned out from the start.

For the sake of argument, let's go over this arc and just what happened with this character over the past eight years. In Season 1, Chloe started out as a standard high school mean girl who used her father's influence to get whatever she wanted, but wasn't that much of a threat compared to Hawkmoth and the Akumas. In Season 2, we got to see a different side to her that started a character arc, showing she was capable of changing and becoming a hero in her own right. In Season 3, while it seemed like Chloe was changing for the better, the finale had her betray Ladybug and go back to being the same mean girl she was before. In Season 4, we were introduced to Chloe's never before seen half-sister, Zoe, who only existed to replace Chloe as the user of the Bee Miraculous, and even though the very same episode where Zoe first got the Bee Miraculous hinted that there was still a chance of Chloe changing, the rest of the season acts like she's always been a menace to society with no redeeming qualities. In Season 5, Chloe was portrayed as a heartless monster who is worse than the main villain of the entire show, is simultaneously smart and cunning enough to bully Marinette in a way that would leave lasting mental scars for a year and also too incompetent to take seriously, and even though the season has made a big deal about how terrible child abuse is, her being sent off to live with her verbally abusive mother is seen as a perfectly suitable punishment for her.

I don't know what's worse, the fact that none of the writers had second thoughts about this character's “arc”, or the fact that Astruc probably thinks he made an antagonist as complex as Lady Macbeth. I also love how, despite all this supposed planning, not once do we get any explanation as to just why Chloe hates Marinette so much other than the fact that one's a rich person and the other is the main character in a cartoon.

Chloe's character was already going in a downward spiral in Season 4, but with Season 5, it feels like the writers just abandoned all attempts to be subtle and were determined to stop people from liking her. Like, it's amazing just how much time was spent hammering the point home. She got more focus as a villain than Lila and even Gabriel. We had about eight episodes this season that featured her in a major antagonistic role: “Determination”, “Deflagration”, “Derision”, “Adoration”, “Revelation”, “Confrontation”, “Collusion”, and “Revolution”. Almost a third of this season is dedicated to showing how evil Chloe is, as if she's somehow worse than people like Gabriel or Tomoe. And that's not even counting episodes where she got a line or two to remind the audience of how bad she is, like “Multiplication”, “Passion”, and “Reunion”.

The weird thing is that even though this was supposed to be the season where Chloe was at her worst, it still seemed like the writers couldn't make up their minds on what they wanted to do with her. For example, let's take a look at her relationship with Monarch. In “Multiplication”, she believed that Ladybug and Cat Noir should just give Monarch what he wants, implying she's still on his side. Then, in “Determination”, she blamed not having the Bee Miraculous on why Monarch was able to win, implying she wants to stop Monarch. And then in “Deflagration”, it's hinted that she once again willingly accepted an Akuma out of a desire to get revenge, implying that she's still on good terms with Monarch. Finally, in “Revolution”, she initially wanted to arrest Monarch when he arrived in her office, and had to be convinced to work with him again. Seriously, this is almost two seasons after she started working with Monarch in the first place. How the hell are the writers not sure if she's working with the villain or not?!

Of course, that's the least of my problems with Chloe this season. One such problem that it seems like the writers specifically went out of their way to ruin the few positive relationships Chloe had just so her fans would have less ground to stand on. Her friendship with Adrien? He finally decided to write her off as irredeemable just as he learned just how miserable she made Marinette (and only Marinette) at the end of “Derision”. Her friendship with Sabrina, as one-sided as it is? She doesn't even see Sabrina as a friend anymore, specifically referring to her as an underling starting with “Adoration”, and then Sabrina turns against her after she finds one specific scheme to be going too far. The sympathy Ms. Bustier had for Chloe, even though it wasn't relevant to her character after “Zombizou”? Chloe basically ignores any attempt made to reach out to her, and we're supposed to act like her wanting to help Chloe get a decent education because it's her job as a teacher is the stupidest idea in the world. Chloe's relationship with her own father? This season decided to make Andre out to be a man mentally broken by the bad treatment he gets from his daughter and totally not a corrupt politician, and outright disowns her in favor of adopting someone who isn't even his biological daughter.

It already felt like Season 4 exaggerated Chloe's negative traits, but now, the show doesn't want anyone to like her in-universe, as if showing basic human decency to her in the first place was off the table. Remember, in “Revelation”, Marinette's speech to Adrien was basically copied and pasted from one of Astruc's tweets, as if this was meant to address anyone who still liked the idea of Chloe changing for the better.

And trust me, I'll get to the characters who actually got redeemed later.

For now, let's talk about the main issue I have with her portrayal: The writers want her to be seen as a threat... but they don't want her to actually be a threat. Almost all of Chloe's appearances this season had her acting as a pawn to either Gabriel or Lila. This season also started to use dumb blonde jokes in order to show how incompetent she is, like having her struggle to understand the concept of the word “generous”, making her out as an idiot. The whole point of the “irredeemable villain” archetype is that the character is usually so big of a threat, there is absolutely no way of talking them down, so they need to be stopped through the use of force. Chloe is far from a threat, which is why all this talk about her being a monster falls flat.

At the end of the day, Chloe is easily at the bottom of the hierarchy of the villains on this show. She has no Miraculous like Gabriel, she has no advanced technology like Tomoe, and she's nowhere near as cunning as Lila is. The problem is that the show wants the audience to see Chloe as if she's the worst of them all. Fine, she may have the most obnoxious personality and least amount of redeeming qualities by the writers' standards, but this is a superhero show. You don't just rank villains on how mean they are, but also by how much of a threat they are to the hero. The moments where we're supposed to take Chloe seriously, the show keeps reminding us that she's only getting as far as she has because she's being used by other villains. It makes the moments where the heroes triumph over her ring hollow.

I'm not even joking here when I say that out of the show's entire rogues' gallery, Chloe is literally the only one who actually gets punished. Sabrina was able to wash their hands of her association with the bully, Andre was more than happy to give up his position as mayor and kidnap Zoe, Tomoe was never even exposed, Lila only faced a minor setback when she was exposed, Nathalie was healed by the wish, and even though he died, Gabriel died a martyr who never actually answered to any of his crimes. But Chloe? As fucked up as it was, she was the only one who received some form of punishment for everything she did. Congratulations, Ladybug and Cat Noir! After five seasons, you finally managed to defeat the Ringo Starr of your rogue's gallery, and all it took was unlocking the full power of your Miraculous.

I was initially angry at the show for just throwing away a character arc and mocking anyone who was interested in it, but now, I'm angry at the show for a different reason. Even if we were to assume that everything about Chloe was planned from the start, that she was supposed to be a fallen hero turned enemy, the show did nothing with it. If you're going to make Chloe a full-blown villain, then go nuts with the idea! Have her dedicate her life to beating Ladybug out of hatred, maybe even through a suit of armor like Princess Morbucks. Instead, this is the writing equivalent of intentionally setting your house on fire, but deciding you don't need the insurance money.

I'm actually going to say something that might sound blasphemous, especially coming from someone who has spent a lot of time talking about Chloe's character assassination, but I'm just going to admit it: I think Chloe should have been the next Hawkmoth, not Lila.

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Yes, that's probably what you're thinking, but I'm serious. Think about it. Between her and Lila, who has the closer connection to Marinette as an enemy? Who has a more fleshed out reason to hate Marinette? Who got more focus as a villain this season? Who has more resources at her disposal? Essentially, the show put so much effort into making Chloe out to be Marinette's most personal enemy, that it makes no sense for them to not just go all the way and make her the next big bad. The writers already go on and on about how irredeemable she is, so why not make her an actual threat for a change?

But no. Instead, let's just keep her as comic relief who somehow gets more screentime than almost every other villain this season. That's a good way to tell our story, right?

Now You See That Evil Will Always Triumph Because Good Is Dumb... And So Is Evil, Apparently

This section should be relatively easy for me to get through, since not much has really changed with the villains since Season 4. They're all still idiots even though the show wants us to see them as a threat to the equally idiotic heroes.

Let's start with our only newcomer to the show's rogues' gallery, and definitely the weakest, Tomoe. I'll give the show a lot of credit with the foreshadowing for Tomoe here. Unlike other plotlines where the show bashes you over the head with obvious hints like with the Sentimonster stuff, the hints leading to the reveal of Tomoe being in leagues with Gabriel are far more subtle. They spend a lot of time in Seasons 3 and 4 discussing things offscreen (probably about some version of the Alliance rings), and both of Tomoe's akumatizations happen offscreen as well (since their conversation would give away their alliance). It's handled pretty well... which is more than I can say for Tomoe as a villain.

Tomoe is just such a confusing character, both conceptually and the way she was used this season. She's meant to be Gabriel's new confidant after Nathalie decided to stop being a villain while still mooching off him, but she pretty much does the same things Nathalie does, including the constant nagging about how inefficient he is. She even serves the same role Nathalie served in earlier episodes as Gabriel's technical advisor. Tomoe is basically a second Nathalie, with the only differences being that she's blind and that she wants Kagami to be with Adrien. Of course, this makes no sense because, like I mentioned in the retcon section, Adrien and Kagami tried to keep their relationship secret before their breakup. How could Tomoe not notice this? What is she, blind—oh right...

There's also the issue I have with the way Tomoe's nationality and disability is portrayed here, and how it really highlights how terrible this show is with representation (not to be confused with the episode of the same name). Like with my Sentimonster section, if there's anyone reading this who is disabled or a person of color, and you'd like to say anything about this part or how this show's representation is handled, feel free to voice your opinion or correct me if I get anything wrong.

With Tomoe, it feels like the writers slapped on every Japanese stereotype you could think of and called it a day, because we've seen all of these before. She's dressed in very traditional Japanese attire, is named after a famous Japanese warrior, uses a kendo shinai as a cane instead of a walking stick, is a strict parent to her child who expects the best from her, makes references to Japanese culture like samurai (Pretension) and taiko drums (Protection), is a technological genius, forces her child into an arranged marriage, and uses Japanese honorifics while talking with Gabriel even when they're not speaking Japanese. I'm not saying Japanese people can't talk about their culture at all, but when you're writing a character who happens to be a person of color, you need to do more than make references to their heritage.

With Tomoe, almost everything she says is referencing her heritage, which makes it come across like the writers cared more about her being Japanese than anything else. Because somehow, the writers were worried kids wouldn't pick up on the fact that she's Japanese... when she's wearing something that makes her look like she just stepped off the set of an Akira Kurosawa movie.

But hey, at least they say Tomoe is Japanese. I don't think there's a single indication that she's blind. At most, they give her the stereotypical superpower every blind person in superhero media seems to have, enhanced hearing. Of course, while characters like Daredevil and Toph Beifong have in-universe explanations for how they're able to “see” without their eyes (Daredevil's enhanced senses came from the same chemicals that blinded him in the first place, while Toph learned an advanced Earthbending technique that gave her the ability to sense others through vibrations in the earth), Tomoe just has them because the writers thought it would be cool. I know it might seem strange to say this after I talked about how too much focus was given to Tomoe's Japanese heritage, but you'd think more would be done with her being blind, and how it would factor into her motivation to create a better world through technology or her ideology about self-discipline. Instead, she acts like every other character on this show, to the point where all three times she was akumatized, she got her sight back.

The main problem with Tomoe is how other than her heritage and disability, she has almost no personality other than being a strict mother to Kagami (something that is also a negative Asian stereotype) and her vague ideology about suppressing her emotions. She's basically a female Gabriel, and because she's a woman in this show, lacks any depth or redeeming qualities. There just wasn't enough time to really develop Tomoe as a character in the same season she was revealed to be a villain. Sure, they try to hint at her having history with Gabriel, but that never goes anywhere, and we never even learn just why she's working with him in the first place other than some vague desire to make the world more technologically advanced in spite of also being a traditionalist who loves honoring old beliefs. Just remember, Chloe got eight focus episodes as a villain this season, yet Tomoe only got one.

Now for Lila, the most competent of the villains... by comparison. The show clearly wants her to be seen as a master manipulator in the same vein as David Xanatos from Gargoyles, but how they show it is just poorly executed. Sure, sometimes she would get ahead in clever ways during episodes like “Illusion” and “Revelation”, but other than that, a good chunk of her plans rely on contrivances that we're supposed to see as part of her plan when she would have no idea if it would actually happen or not. In fact, let's go over all the things Lila did during her last five episodes of the season and see how her master plan played out.

Step 1: Revelation – Convince Ms. Bustier to hold another election for class representative, lie your ass off to get the position while making it seem like you rejected an Akuma, and win the election.

Step 2: Confrontation – Tamper with confidential school documents while hoping your enemy doesn't plan anything to stop you, and if your plan falls through, abandon your identity entirely and hope nobody ever tries to look for you.

Step 3: Collusion – Convince your pawn to record a conversation between the mayor and the man you somehow know is Monarch and then after the conversation leads to an Akuma forcing him out of office, tell your pawn to accept an offer from Monarch's civilian identity that you somehow knew he'd make, leading to your pawn becoming the new mayor by force who everyone is too stupid to even think of opposing.

Step 4: Revolution – Tell your pawn to take an offer from the same supervillain she's willingly worked with before, watch her go mad with power and assume that Ladybug and Cat Noir will defeat her, and then in the chaos from her defeat, assume that one of Monarch's associates will randomly leave her computer behind for you to use.

Step 5: Re-Creation – Develop an immunity to magical nightmare dust, hack into the heavily-guarded mansion you know where Monarch lives while the city is being swarmed with supersoldiers, hope you don't run into Monarch or any heroes trying to stop him on the way there, take the hole created by a Cataclysm you know would be there, assume that Monarch will lose, and seize his Miraculous from the ruins of his lair that you somehow know how to navigate after surviving all of reality being rebooted.

General Patton, eat your heart out. I think we all know who the real tactical genius is here.

Seriously, how the hell did she even know half of the stuff involving Gabriel and Tomoe would happen? Yeah, she had Tomoe's laptop after the events of “Revolution”, but she didn't see how their final fight would play out. You could also argue that we technically never saw her go into Monarch's lair during the final battle (all we got was a shot of her looking down into the hole Bug Noire created with her Cataclysm), but why didn't she go down if she disguised herself to infiltrate Monarch's lair? Was she just scoping out the area? Was her entire plan just to steal Monarch's Miraculous? There were so many ways this could have blown up in her face, so let's go over all of them, shall we?

What if Ms. Bustier didn't agree to hold a reelection for class representative?

What if Marinette won the reelection anyway?

What if Lila wasn't able to escape during the chaos caused by Monarch's Megakuma targeting Mr. Damocles?

What if the school managed to contact one of Lila's moms and tell her about what her “daughter” did?

What if Chloe wasn't able to record the full conversation between Gabriel and Andre?

What if Andre agreed to use the police robots without any manipulation?

What if Miss Sans-Culotte wasn't able to get Andre to resign?

What if Andre did resign, but managed to appoint a interim mayor until the next election?

What if Chloe didn't accept Gabriel's offer?

What if Chloe didn't accept Monarch's offer?

What if Chloe managed to arrest Monarch with her robots and got all of the Miraculous herself?

What if the French military was sent to stop Chloe's abuse of power?

What if Ladybug and Cat Noir weren't able to stop Chloe and lost their Miraculous to Monarch?

What if Chloe double-crossed both Lila and Monarch and managed to get Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous herself?

What if Tomoe didn't carelessly leave her laptop behind during the final battle with Chloe and her robots?

What if Tomoe realized she lost her laptop and sent someone to track it down?

What if Tomoe installed a kill switch on her laptop to make sure nobody would be able to do anything with it in the event it got stolen

What if Ladybug didn't learn Monarch's identity?

What if Lila fell victim to Nightormentor's nightmare dust?

What if Lila was attacked by some of the Miraculized before she could make it to the Agreste Mansion?

What if Gabriel caught Lila while she was attempting to sneak in?

What if Ladybug caught Lila while she was attempting to sneak in?

What if Nathalie caught Lila while she was attempting to sneak in?

What if the Gorilla caught Lila while she was attempting to sneak in?

What if some of the Miraculized caught Lila while she was attempting to sneak in?

What if Lila got caught in the crossfire during the final battle between Bug Noire and Monarch?

What if Bug Noire didn't Cataclysm the floor and beat Monarch at the entrance of the mansion?

What if Bug Noire wasn't able to defeat Monarch?

What if Ladybug managed to find the Butterfly Miraculous before she did?

What if Ladybug caught her while she was trying to find the Butterfly Miraculous?

Do you see why I only think Lila is the most competent villain by comparison? A good chunk of Lila's “plan” amounted to her waltzing over and reaping the benefits from every coincidence she's around to see. And she's supposed to be this criminal mastermind who thought this all out from the beginning?

Lila's planning makes about as much sense as her motivation. Why does she hate Marinette and Ladybug? They both called her out on her lies back in Season 1 and 3 respectively (Volpina, Chameleon). That's it. This is enough for Lila to want to become a supervillain and terrorize Paris. I get that the idea is to contrast with the more noble goal Gabriel had as a supervillain, but you need to give more of an explanation if you want the audience to care about Lila becoming the next Hawkmoth.

At the very least, if the writers wanted to build intrigue about Lila, have this be the season where she first appears. Build her up as this mysterious new girl who wins over Gabriel's trust, only she has an agenda of her own. By having most of her appearances be this season, it's more obvious that she has a bigger role to play, and would eventually become the next Hawkmoth. Instead, it seems like the writers put a bunch of names on a dartboard, Lila's name was the closest to the first dart they threw, and that's how they decided who Ladybug's next arch-enemy would be. And once again, Lila hasn't even touched a Miraculous in five seasons, yet we're supposed to believe that with the help of that vague glowing light she saw as soon as the first put on the Butterfly Miraculous, she'll be able to take on eighteen superheroes who have plenty of experience fighting Akumas?

Speaking of, let's get into the final main villain, Gabriel. Compared to the others, he had a pretty decent start. He felt a lot smarter than he usually did, like how he used his influence to market the Alliance rings in order to boost his Akumas' powers, or once again trick Ladybug and Cat Noir into thinking he isn't Monarch. He even managed to outsmart Scarabella and Kitty Noire by using the Alliance rings to learn their identities, and almost got their Miraculous as a result. For the most part, Gabriel was a pretty clever villain who capitalized on every screwup the heroes made, and actually came across as a threat... that is, until “Protection”.

Starting with “Protection”, Gabriel decided that even though he has only a few weeks to live at best, he needs to focus more on meddling in his son's love life instead of getting Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous in order to save his wife. It comes across like he cares more about stopping Marinette than he does stopping Ladybug in the latter half of the season. Hell, Gabriel doesn't even set up any plans for what would happen to Adrien if he died despite once again claiming to be doing everything for his family. Also, for some reason, he really wants Adrien and Kagami to stay together and become a couple for reasons that I can only assume is because of some kind of social commentary on the rich. Is Gabriel trying to start a eugenics program? Is this how Khan was born?

The abrupt detour Gabriel's motivations take is connected to one of the bigger problems with this season: How Gabriel's Cataclysm wound is handled. We're supposed to sympathize with Gabriel and how his days are numbered thanks to what happened, all while he's desperate to achieve his goal... when not only did Gabriel Cataclysm himself at the beginning of the season, he almost never brings up his wound until the writers want to add unnecessary drama to the story. At most, he'll either flinch in pain a little because of the wound (Elation, Perfection, Intuition, Protection, Emotion, Confrontation), or show his purple hand to show how serious it's gotten while saying he doesn't have much time left (Passion, Pretension, Revelation, Collusion, Conformation). At least, we're supposed to see it as serious, as the injury never really gets in the way of his plans.

Rather than a painful injury that's slowly killing him, the show treats Gabriel's injury with the seriousness of a sprained ankle. Yeah, it's painful, but nothing serious. Aside from one episode (Intuition), we don't see Gabriel struggle that much with his deteriorating health or how it gets in the way of his plans. Compare this to how Nathalie's condition has been portrayed. As Season 3 progressed, Nathalie got weaker to the point of forcing Gabriel to abort his second outing as Scarletmoth (Ladybug), she became so sick, she had to be benched as Mayura by the end of Season 3, and needed cybernetic crutches just to help her walk during Seasons 4 and 5. While I criticized her sudden wrinkled appearance by the events of “Representation”, the show still made it clear that Nathalie was struggling to go about her everyday life over the course of the last three seasons. As for Gabriel, whose condition is supposedly more serious to the point where not even the Ladybug Miraculous can heal it? At most, it's less something influencing his belief that he has nothing left to lose, and more a mild injury at best.

Another problem I have with Gabriel is the same one I have with Tomoe and Lila: The lack of a proper backstory. Yes, we know the basics of it (his wife is comatose and/or dead, so he became a supervillain to get Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous and save her), but we know nothing about his life before that. Thanks to “Revelation”, the most we get is that before he became a fashion designer who took an interest in discovering the Miraculous, he used to work in fast food like Skeet from Jimmy Neutron. Hell, the two even have similar haircuts.

Whether Gabriel knows the difference between salt and sodium chloride is still up for debate.

The show wants to say that Gabriel used to be different, but we don't get to see that side to him. If you want to say Gabriel used to be nicer, then give us a flashback to show how much Emilie's death affected him. That way, it would also give the scene in the finale where he breaks down have more weight to it, as it would show him letting down his emotional defenses.

Also, why was Gabriel so interested in the Miraculous in the first place if he found the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous before Emilie got sick? The show establishes that Gabriel went exploring with Emilie and Nathalie, but why? What were they looking for? How did this lead to them getting into fashion? How did Gabriel and Emilie get so rich if Amelie inherited the Graham de Vanily fortune? This was the season that was supposed to wrap up the storyline regarding the Agreste family drama, yet we still know so little about them or how Gabriel and Emilie even met.

Finally, let's get to the Akumas. The season makes a huge deal about how dangerous Gabriel is now that he has almost every other Miraculous at his disposal, how hard the battle against him will become. How do the Akumas reflect that idea? Very poorly. Twelve of the season's Akumas were reused models (Ikari Gozen in “Multiplication”, Darker Owl in “Jubilation”, the Collector in “Illusion”, Glaciator in “Elation”, Sole Destroyer in “Deflagration”, Dark Humor in “Derision”, Riposte Prime in “Protection”, Vanisher in “Adoration”, Matagi Gozen in “Pretension”, Hoaxer in “Revelation”, Reflekta in “Confrontation”, and Nightormentor in “Representation”), and only ten of them were original (Manipula in “Determination”, Safari in Passion, Kikou in “Transmission”, Ryukomori in “Perfection”, Gold Record in “Migration”, Bugfighter in “Intuition”, Miss Sans-Culotte in “Collusion”, Queen Mayor in “Revolution”, King of Plastic in “Action”, and the Miraculized in “The Final Day”). I've also gone over this several times, but despite the main gimmick being that the Akumas have Miraculous powers now, the show never really explains why Monarch can't just give them those kind of powers himself, especially when he could easily recreate Miraculous powers as far back as Season 1 (Copycat, Antibug, Volpina).

Most of the Miraculous powers didn't actually feel like upgrades and just excuses to recycle Akumas on the basis of acting like they have new powers when it's almost always just giving them the same old powers. Either that, or with the new Akumas, they'll just make it so their only powers are related to their Miraculous powers, like Safari getting all of her gear thanks to the Goat Miraculous' Genesis, Kikou and Ryukomori's only abilities being related to their respective Miraculous powers, or Queen Mayor getting the power to control robots with multiple Miraculous powers. There were exceptions like Manipula getting the Ox Miraculous' Resistance as an added precaution, or Vanisher mixing her stealth with the Dog Miraculous' Fetch, but they were few and far between.

Overall, almost every villain this season was just so underwhelming. While the Akumas were once again mostly reused character models, we learned almost nothing about the villains other than the fact that they're idiots. Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot the fact that by the show's logic, almost all of the villains aren't really villains. Let's talk about how the show handles redemption arcs now.

The Redemption Misconception or: The Power of Love Always So Strong?

While younger readers might not understand this, there was once a time on the internet where one of the most debated shows was Steven Universe, and mainly for one reason: How it handled the topic of redemption. Pretty much every major antagonist had changed their ways by the end of the show, including Lapis Lazuli, Peridot, the Cluster, Bismuth, Spinel, Jasper, and even the Diamonds. While the quality of each of these redemption arcs varies from character to character, as is the moral status of each character, there's one thing I can say about how the show got the moral about redemption across: It was consistent. Aside from one or two characters like Eyeball or Aquamarine (who were more ignorant than anything else), there was never a case about someone being physically incapable of changing their ways, which tied into the overall theme of how important compassion is. With the way Miraculous Ladybug handles its redemption arcs, I unfortunately can't say it does it the same way Steven Universe does.

Pretty much every major villain, antagonist, or associate in the show gets a redemption of some kind. This includes Nathalie, Felix, Sabrina, Andre, and even Gabriel, while Chloe, Lila, and Tomoe are all viewed as beyond saving. The problem is rather than actually acknowledge the things any of them did as wrong before they start to change their ways, pretty much every “redemption” in this show amounts to downplaying their crimes. If the writers don't retcon the story so characters like Nathalie, Sabrina, and Andre were forced to help a greater threat instead of being willing accomplices, they'll retcon the story so characters like Felix and Gabriel were perfectly justified in their actions due to having a tragic backstory. Yes, while the point of a redemption arc is to have a former antagonist realize the error of their ways and turn a new leaf, it doesn't mean that the character who goes through this arc was never bad in the first place.

Like a lot of problems with this show, this is obviously contradicted by the way it handles Chloe. Any argument made on why every villain who was redeemed this season was stated to not apply to Chloe for some reason.

“Felix is a victim of child abuse and has a lot of emotional baggage!” Funny, because I remember in “Derision”, Mylene made a point about Chloe having a deadbeat parent not being enough to justify her actions, so by that logic, Felix shouldn't be getting away with anything.

“Sabrina and Andre were being forced to go along with Chloe's evil plans, so it's not their fault!” Chloe was also a pawn in Gabriel and Lila's schemes, yet we're still supposed to see her as evil. “But she still went along with Lila's plan!” By that logic, so did Sabrina and Andre, since they still listened to Chloe for a while instead of distancing themselves from her far earlier than they did.

“Gabriel and Nathalie are doing everything they can to help Adrien while they're both in poor health! Chloe didn't actually care about Adrien!” Sure, it's clear that (according to the retcons in Season 4), Chloe only cared about Adrien as a meal ticket, you can't say Gabriel and Nathalie care about Adrien either, since one is an abusive parent and the other did nothing to actually stop the abuse. Also, why should I feel bad for either of them when they routinely endanger lives and are only on death's door because of their own terrible choices?

I'm not saying that the show doesn't make decent points about why Chloe can't be redeemed. The issue is that these rules are never applied to anyone else who does get redeemed. The show tries to use characters like Chloe and Lila as a cautionary tale about how easy it is for your kindness to be taken advantage of, yet we never get any examples of compassion being a key factor in any major redemption this season.

Pretty much every villain who changes their ways only does so out of self-interest. Nathalie was fed up with Gabriel's constant failures and her own declining health, Felix only cared about doing things that would benefit himself like hooking up with Kagami, Andre was more than happy to resign even though he was forced to do so by an Akuma, Sabrina chose to stop helping Chloe after one particular plan goes too far (without actually apologizing for all the times she still went along with Chloe's schemes, no less), and Gabriel only stopped trying to hurt people once he got exactly what he wanted and died a martyr.

For a show with the lyrics “The power of love always so strong!”, why do we never actually see the power of love in action? And it's not just them. Whenever a character shows some form of compassion for an enemy, it's usually met with a dismissive attitude or fails miserably, and if it's not that, it's all lie to trick someone else.

In “Illusion”, Gabriel's plan to throw off suspicion that he's Monarch involves pretending to let Ladybug and Cat Noir get through to him.

In “Derision”, Rose pointed out Chloe's relationship with her mother as an excuse for why she's so mean, only for Mylene to argue against that despite being in a different boat than Chloe is.

In “Revelation”, Lila kept lying about having a caring attitude and believing that anyone can change, which was obviously meant to mock anyone who had that kind of viewpoint.

In “Collusion”, Ms. Bustier tries to reach out to Chloe after everything she's done, only to lose her job as a result.

In “Re-Creation”, the whole reason Bug Noire manages to beat Monarch was by putting him in a situation that would take advantage of his compassion for his wife, and later on, Gabriel manages to get the upper hand by taking advantage of Marinette's own compassion for him.

For a magical girl show, these writers are really terrible at teaching the lesson about showing kindness to your enemies, because more often than not, it's just violence that solves everything. Just ask the citizens of Paris in “Revolution”.

It doesn't help that the morality in this show isn't a complicated spectrum that weighs every action a character does and allows for other stances besides good or evil. Instead, it's like a light switch with two settings: “So good, you volunteer at the local children's hospital” and “So bad, you voluntarily send children to the hospital”. Characters in this show are either good or bad, and there's no room for in-between. Even when characters supposedly do change their ways, the show goes out of its way to claim that this is what they've always been like, which completely undermines the idea of what a redemption arc sets out to accomplish.

The thing is that I've actually seen examples of “Character X was only doing bad things as part of their plan!” and “Character X was only forced to do bad things for the villain!” done with one character, and it was a very recent example too. In the recently concluded Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger, one of the major villains was a tyrant named Racules, who took advantage of several monster attacks to secure more power for his kingdom, but later on, it's revealed he had a reason to do so. Long story short, Racules was the latest in a long line of rulers who was essentially blackmailed into carrying out a war by an immortal being from space named Dagded. However, Racules had a plan to secretly find a way to kill Dadged, and it involved playing along by pretending to be a heartless tyrant. By playing up his persona of a villain, not only did Racules drive his brother Gira (who was revealed to be an immortal creation of Dadged) to gain the weapons necessary to fight Dadged, Dagded trusted Racules so much, he decided to give him the power to kill an immortal. Guess who Racules chooses to kill as soon as he gets that ability.

While the reveal that Racules was good all along happened very late into the series, it worked far better than any redemption in this entire show for one reason: Racules isn't let off the hook for what he did. Everyone, Racules included, acknowledges that he did terrible things for years, and as soon as the situation is resolved, Racules is imprisoned for his crimes. Racules even admits to going mad with power at one point before he focused on his goal again, and he doesn't complain while he's in prison.

We never get any moments like this with the other redeemed characters. Nobody ever acknowledges that they went too far. They do one or two good things, and therefore, they're perfectly okay in Marinette's eyes.

Like a lot of topics it covers, this show wants to have its cake and eat it too when it comes to redemption. It wants to show characters changing their ways, but it doesn't want to actually hold those characters accountable for their actions. It wants to explain that not everyone can be redeemed, but it doesn't want to explain what causes people to want to redeem themselves. It wants to have an idealistic view of solving problems with compassion, yet it goes out of its way to mock those with that same ideology while claiming that violence is the only answer.

Maybe if Astruc spent less time arguing with people on Twitter over the concept of redemption, he and his team could have put more effort into fleshing out the all of the half-baked redemption arcs this season.

Adrienette Is Finally Canon! The Love Square? What’s That?

Well, it finally happened. After seven years, five months, fourteen days, 115 episodes and three specials since the show originally premiered in France on October 19th, 2015, Marinette and Adrien have finally gotten together for real. No cop-outs, no reset button, no misunderstandings, this is real. Credit where credit is due, the writers could have easily kept stalling and wait until the very end of the season for Marinette and Adrien to get together and called it a day, but they gave us over half a season of them in an actual relationship. Unfortunately, this also meant the writers had to rush the development of the relationship in order for Adrienette to become official in the first place.

Like a lot of stuff in the first half of this season, the writers pretty much speedran through the plotlines building up to Marinette and Adrien getting together. During the course of a mere eight episodes, we got a plotline about Marinette feeling guilty for letting her feelings for Adrien make her screw up, a plotline where Adrien realizes he has feelings for Marinette, a plotline where Marinette falls in love with Cat Noir, a plotline where Adrien stops having feelings for Ladybug, and finally, a plotline where Marinette stops having feelings for Cat Noir. These are all plotlines that we should have gotten over the course of the past four seasons, but instead, the writers are just cramming them all into less than a dozen episodes.

Considering how this was meant to be the final season originally, you can tell the writers realized they actually had to actually resolve the “Will they or won't they?” plotline instead of just padding things out like they normally do. But that's the problem. This was something fans, shippers, and general audiences were told to look forward to for years. Keep in mind, one of the biggest arguments you could make for just why the writers waited until Season 5 for Marinette and Adrien to officially get together was because they had something HUGE planned. This is a big deal for the show, something you can't take too lightly. If Astruc and the other writers were so intent on hyping up Adrienette for over four seasons to the point of showing two alternate timelines where they get together to tide viewers over, they needed to make sure they had a payoff so incredible, so satisfying, that their audiences would see it as more than worth the wait.

Just how was the big moment where Marinette and Adrien officially got together this season after so many years of buildup?

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To be perfectly honest with you, I had absolutely no goddamn idea that the end of “Transmission” was meant to signify them finally starting a relationship. It just felt like the writers were doing the same thing about them being friends with a hint of something more on the horizon, but then the opening of “Deflagration” made it clear that here was major progress made in their relationship, though Marinette denied it due to her own anxiety, and by “Perfection”, it's confirmed that the two are dating. I just... really? This is how the two finally get together? It just... happens? No big dramatic confession? No romantic first date building up to this? Not even a kiss? The two talk for a few minutes, watch an Akuma fight, and now they're an item. Are you kidding me? Sure, most of the big moments in their relationship are saved for after they get together, but there's the problem: the writers half-ass the moment where Marinette and Adrien get together! It's more or less an afterthought in a two-parter involving a battle with Monarch where nothing was really accomplished.

You'd think for all the uncertainty Marinette felt over her feelings for Adrien this season, them getting together would be seen as a big moment, but it just doesn't for some reason. While you could argue it's a lesson in your fear of confessing being harder than the act itself, not much attention is given to Marinette growing closer with Adrien, because, for some reason, the writers decided to hold off the love confession and the first kiss for far later in the season (Pretension, Revolution). That's right, even after Marinette and Adrien finally get together, the show still needs to find a way to draw out the development of Adrienette.

I don't get it. Why couldn't the confession and kiss be what cements Adrienette, so more focus could be given to other plots? You can't say the “Will they or won't they?” stuff is the only draw to Adrienette, because there are plenty of plots you could write now that Marinette and Adrien are together. You could have an episode where Marinette invites Adrien over to breakfast with her parents in a follow-up to “Weredad”. You could have an episode where Marinette and Adrien try to go out on a perfect first date, only to struggle to balance their superhero lives getting in the way. You could have an episode where both Marinette and Adrien worry they're not good enough for each other, only for them to realize they love each other for who they really are. You could have an episode where Marinette and Adrien finally get closure on their former relationships with Luka and Kagami respectively. There were plenty of options for stories here, yet rather than do literally anything like that, not only did the writers drag out Marinette and Adrien's first kiss, they had the main villain take a break from trying to get the Miraculous to focus on breaking up the two.

As I mentioned earlier, we get a new arc all about Gabriel trying to break up Marinette and Adrien so Adrien can start dating Kagami again. Now I know what you're probably thinking: “IOTA, wasn't it implied that while Adrien and Kagami were dating, they were keeping their relationship a secret from their parents? Why are their parents suddenly obsessed with them getting together?” Well, you see, the answer to that is... that I have no answer because this makes no sense and is yet another excuse for a story arc that is somehow relevant to the overall plot. It's because of Gabriel's irrational hatred of Adrienette that Adrien is sent to London, and as a result, is absent from the final battle.

The sad thing is that I honestly thought Marinette and Adrien had some cute moments as a couple this season and had some believable chemistry. It's nothing groundbreaking, and there are plenty of flaws that I'll get to later, but for all intents and purposes, they still made a decent couple. It's just too bad that everyone else won't shut up about how amazing they are together. When their friends aren't trying to set up these cinematic scenarios for Marinette and Adrien that keep failing (Perfection, Protection,), they're gushing over how amazing of a couple the two are (Transmission, Deflagration, Revelation). At best, it comes across as the writers saying “How do you do, fellow shippers?”, and at worst, it comes across as the writers taking a victory lap while treating Adrienette as the greatest thing since sliced bread.

Adrienette just dominated the latter half of this season, and it really got in the way of the overall story regarding the conflict with Monarch. What's that? You're saying I forgot something, like the other three sides of the Love Square. Ah, good eye, my friend.

SO DID THE FUCKING SHOW.

For the thing that got a lot of people interested in the show in the first place, the rest of the Love Square is criminally underutilized this season. Marinette randomly develops feelings for Cat Noir for a handful of episodes, Cat Noir randomly moves on from Ladybug, and I don't think we even got a single Ladrien scene this season. It really felt like the writers realized this was meant to be the last season, so not only did they have to get Marinette and Adrien together as quickly as they could, they also had to acknowledge the other sides of the Love Square. Of course, they did that without actually doing an identity reveal.

There are theories that the reveal was going to happen this season with how much Marinette and Adrien only talked about each other and not their superhero partners (implying they both knew who the other was), but the writers changed it at the last minute because they got renewed for more seasons. I suppose it makes in a meta sense, but what about the in-universe explanation? What's stopping Ladybug and Cat Noir from learning each other's identities when literally every other hero in Paris can get their Miraculous back, even the ones who had their identities discovered? Were the writers so uncertain if people would still watch the show if there wasn't any mystery in Marinette and Adrien's relationship? What exactly is there left to explore with the Love Square when Adrienette is canon, while Ladynoir, Marichat, and Ladrien are all dead in the water?

Like a lot of things this season, the handling of the Love Square started off strong and gradually petered out to the point where I just don't care anymore. I started this season assuming the reveal would actually happen, but of course, the writers just won't let this subplot die already.

Adrien Who?

While I don't really have a lot of bad things to say about Adrien compared to last season, this is unfortunately part of the bigger problem with how he was handled this season.

Like I said earlier, it seemed like the writers actually learned from their mistakes last seasons with how Adrien was written during the earlier episodes last season. He stopped whining about how he was totally important and started pulling his weight in battle. He was very active in fighting Akumas and actually felt like an equal to Ladybug. Yeah, Ladybug still called the shots, but the two stopped bickering over stupid things and had more conversations about other things. It didn't matter if they were more casual chats about their lives (Perfection) or discussions on the enemy's plans (Intuition, Revolution).

The problem, like a lot of things this season now that I think about it, comes in the second half. Remember how last season made a big deal about how wrong it was to leave Adrien out of the loop with so many secrets? Once again, the writers seemed to have forgotten this major story arc that they wrote themselves. Now, not only does Gabriel crack down on his horrific treatment of Adrien through his ring, not only does Adrien's character regress to being nothing more than Marinette's trophy boyfriend, by the end of the season, Adrien is literally reduced to a damsel in distress who needs to be saved, instead of, you know, A SUPERHERO. And remember, the writers were very proud of how this was planned for almost a decade, all because they got to supposedly subvert fairy tale tropes.

I feel like this whole “Save Adrien” plotline could have worked if Adrien wasn't already a superhero, and was just a civilian Marinette knew. Yeah, it would still be using an overdone trope, but at least if that happened, Adrien would have an excuse to not be able to fight back as opposed to the several he made during the finale. Instead, for the majority of the season's second half, Adrien takes a backseat to a major story arc revolving around his family and isn't even given proper closure by the end.

“But IOTA!” You might say. “The show's called Miraculous Ladybug, not Miraculous Cat Noir! Of course Ladybug has to save the day! She's the main character!” That may be true, voice in my head, but here's the thing: If Adrien wasn't going to be part of the final battle, why wasn't this about Marinette's family? Why not make Monarch Tom or Sabine trying to bring back their spouse? Marinette is the main character, yes, but so much of the backstory in this show is connected to Adrien's family. The show tries to connect Marinette to this through her relationship with Adrien, but with how often she and Gabriel fight over what's best for him, Adrien kind of just sits around, not protesting against his father in the slightest. I'm not saying Adrien should be the main character. I'm saying that Marinette should be tied more into the story if you were going to base a lot of the drama on her perspective during the final battle. It's almost like making it so Adrien physically can't rebel against his father was a stupid way to keep him out of the conflict.

Why the hell couldn't we have gotten a scene where Adrien's connection to Gabriel was broken? There were plenty of options the writers could have used. You could have had Nathalie steal the other ring back from Gabriel to give to Adrien, have Argos use the Peacock Miraculous' powers to override Gabriel's commands, or have Adrien unlock a new form of Cataclysm that severs the bond with his Amok. And that's not even getting into the excuses the show made for why he can't get involved, because God forbid one of the two main characters in the show's title get to take part in the final battle.

In fact, I'm pretty sure this is why Felix was introduced, to do the things Adrien should be doing. Felix is the one who has a vendetta against Gabriel, a deeper connection with Kagami, knowledge that he's a Sentimonster, and an overall influence in the plot. The writers are so obsessed with coddling Adrien that they created an entirely different character to fill in a role for him, and Felix wasn't even in the final battle. And just remember, Adrien was originally created to replace Felix in the story, so Felix taking over Adrien's role as the character who helps advance the plot makes even less sense.

Even if the final battle is meant to be over Adrien, it comes across less like Marinette and Gabriel are fighting over his freedom and more who gets to control him. Gabriel doesn't use his wish to free Adrien from the shackles of the rings. He just gives Marinette the rings and hopes she won't do the same kind of things he did with the rings. Nothing changed over Adrien's treatment except who gets the keys.

It'd be one thing if Adrien at least chose Marinette over his father, but Adrien isn't even allowed to know the full story on anything, not even the Sentimonster stuff. Okay, putting aside the fact that Adrien has lots of friends and family to help him cope with this, maybe I can buy not telling him about Gabriel. Not telling him he's a Sentimonster is something I can't excuse. This is like not wanting to tell someone they have diabetes and hoping they know how to use their own insulin while they're downing Pepsi after Pepsi. It's not just a matter of hurting Adrien's feelings. His fucking life depends on those rings. He should obviously know to keep them safe and not trade them for magic beans or something stupid like that.

But the biggest problem with Adrien this season is how it goes against everything the show has said about him and his relationship with Marinette/Ladybug the last four seasons, and especially Season 4.

For the past four seasons, the show has loved to say that no matter what happens, Ladybug and Cat Noir will always be here for the other, even against the world. Put aside how unlikable Adrien was last season, that was the ultimate lesson, about the two reaffirming their bond. And yet, here we are in the Season 5 finale, when literally the entire world is against Ladybug and Cat Noir, and Cat Noir is nowhere to be seen.

One of the main reasons why Adrien jumped at the chance to be a superhero was the freedom it gave him from his restrictive lifestyle, and how it led to him making more friends at school. And that very same story ends with Adrien admitting it's a good thing for him to stay inside and never acknowledge the fact that his father was kind of a dick. Remember, this was planned in advance for YEARS, and absolutely nobody thought it contradicted one of the most important aspects of Adrien's character: his desire for freedom. Now the same person who would demand to not be kept in the dark about so many things (Lady Wifi, Syren, Lies, Sentibubbler, Rocketear, Risk) is now sitting around like a coward while everyone else saves the world instead.

I still think Adrien was at his worst in Season 4, with how much of an whiny and insufferable idiot he could be, but Adrien in Season 5 is a close second. Yes, I wanted him to stop acting out and demanding that the world cater to his every whim, but I also wanted him to prove he was as valuable as he says. The first half of this season seemed to understand this kind of criticism and reminded the audience that Cat Noir was still useful, but when the actual story kicked in, the writers were so determined to keep the secret identity bullshit going, Adrien somehow got less focus as a hero than the Resistance, a group of temp heroes who actually lost their Miraculous. And consider the fact that this season wrapped up the drama with the Agreste family, so for all we know, Adrien will get even less screentime next season.

If Adrien is supposed to be an invaluable ally to Ladybug, then why doesn't the writing accurately reflect it?

The Problem With the Biggest Idiot of Season 5: Moronette, “Of Course I Know What I’m Doing!” Royal-Pain, AKA, Ladydumb

You know, it's funny. I kept defending Marinette when the writing kept making her out to be a terrible hero last season while Adrien got by without a single criticism, to the point where I considered Adrien to be the worst part of the entire season. Oh, how the tables have turned with dear old Marinette, as the season that chose not to criticize every single action she took is when she's arguably at her worst.

You have to wonder if the writers finally realized how much crap they put Marinette through over the last few seasons by having her always forcing her to learn some contrived lesson and were like, “Oh yeah, she's supposed to be someone the audience is supposed to root for.” Unfortunately, they went way too far in the other direction with how they handled Marinette.

The way Marinette was written this season felt eerily similar to what happened with Adrien last season. Suddenly, her personal drama is of the utmost importance (Determination, Passion, Reunion, Elation, The Kwamis' Choice, Perfection, Migration, Derision, Adoration, Pretension, Representation), she's making incredibly stupid decisions in battle (Evolution, Destruction, Determination, Pretension), she becomes the moral compass of the show who lectures others on what to do (Revelation, Confrontation, Collusion, Revolution), and she's never really called out for her actions by the other characters despite how often she makes things worse.

So much of the first half of this season is the exact same crap over and over again. Marinette complains about how hard things are for her and her conflicting feelings for Adrien. I wouldn't really mind something like this if it wasn't for two things.

First, there's no real arc involved with this. Marinette keeps complaining about her love life, and she never really learns anything from it. She doesn't even get to confess to Adrien and show her growing as a character. Adrien confesses to her, and bam, the two are a couple now. Glad to see all the discussions about Marinette's anxiety was completely pointless since she doesn't get to be the one to really confront her inner demons. Well, there was one time in “Derision”, and we all know how well that turned out, right?

Second, more often than not, it seems like Marinette is prioritizing her personal life over the situation with Monarch. You know, the guy who has access to fourteen different Miraculous? After you only managed to get one back? I'd understand if we got this kind of arc in the earlier seasons, but by doing this, you're undermining the current threat Monarch poses. She's even willing to give up being a superhero if it means being with Adrien. That is how important her love life is to her. She's willing to let Tikki force the responsibility onto someone else if it means she can be happy. Of course, this isn't too surprising, as Astruc once said that the show is supposed to focus primarily on romance, not superhero action.

THIS IS WHAT THOMAS ASTRUC ACTUALLY BELIEVES.

Just like with Adrien last season, the show seems to care more about Marinette's personal issues at the expense of other characters. Do you want to know how many episodes this season focused on Marinette's love life in some way? EIGHTEEN (Multiplication, Jubilation, Determination, Passion, Reunion, Elation, Transmission, Deflagration, Perfection, Derision, Protection, Adoration, Emotion, Pretension, Revolution, Representation, Conformation, Re-Creation). Literally two-thirds of the season includes Love Square drama. Even if you want to be generous and count both two-parters as single episodes, that's still more than half the season. This is yet another problem with waiting until what was originally supposed to be the last season to resolve your plot. You need to force all of this development through almost every episode until people get tired of it.

Because of this, Marinette basically took over the narrative of Season 5. Almost every major conflict revolved around her, even the stuff with Adrien. Rather than make a story about Marinette and Adrien working together to break free from Gabriel's influence, Marinette is the one who has to do the heavy lifting and save Adrien herself. I've already talked about this with Adrien, but it bears repeating, as this is same issue I had with Season 4. Just like how Adrien got more focus during a story arc that should have been about Marinette last season, Marinette is now getting more focus during a story arc that should have been about Adrien, to the point where Marinette gets to use Adrien's Miraculous during the final battle with Monarch.

I'd at least be somewhat forgiving towards the shift in focus if Marinette actually got to do anything to advance the plot herself. Because of how often the show focuses on Marinette's love life, very little time is dedicated to showing Ladybug making an effort to actually stop Monarch. The closest we got was in “Illusion”, and that was a plan spearheaded by Nino. Like I said earlier, Felix does more to advance the plot out of any character, even Marinette, THE ONE THE SHOW IS NAMED AFTER!

We have three separate episodes where Ladybug has Monarch at her mercy, but she decides to talk about how she's totally won and that Monarch can't get away at all, and then Monarch gets away in a matter of seconds. I just... this is “SHOOT THEM WITH THE DEHYDRATION GUN!” levels of stupid here! The only reason Monarch gets as far as he does is because Ladybug can't just grab any the Miraculous he has all over his body.

We're seriously supposed to see Marinette as an amazing hero when she keeps screwing up every opportunity she gets to stop Monarch. In the span of one season, Marinette went along with being forced to retire because she got a chance to date Adrien (The Kwamis' Choice), chose not to form a temporary alliance with an Akuma even if it meant possibly getting the Peacock Miraculous back and stopping a potential threat (Pretension), had absolutely no plan to stop Lila until someone else came forward with information on what she was doing (Confrontation), decided to let another Akuma force the mayor out of office (Collusion), and failed to stop Gabriel because she got tricked again and was completely helpless as the entire universe was recreated before she took credit for defeating Monarch afterwards in the new reality and then decided to honor the insane supervillain's wishes and keep her boyfriend completely in the dark about the truth even though she learned not to keep secrets from others (The Final Day) and MY GOD, I HATE THIS SEASON SO MUCH.

When Marinette isn't making terrible decisions, she's lecturing others on how to act around their enemies, and when I say “how to act”, I mean “refuse to give them even the slightest bit of respect after doing the bare minimum to help them try and change”. Marinette really lets her own personal biases toward Chloe and Lila get to her this season with how the latter half of the season had her tell others not to even consider trusting them because of how easy it is for them to take advantage of kindness. You know, something you'd hear someone like Superman or Spider-Man teach kids about.

In fact, here's a little game any aspiring writer can play when writing superhero characters: If you can't imagine someone as noble as Superman saying something like this...

Marinette: But sometimes, the good we think we see in some people is just a reflection of our own, and we end up being fooled by our own kindness.

Unless your intent is for them to be flawed or in the wrong instead of a complete paragon of virtue, you need to go through your drafts.

And just like Adrien, even though Marinette keeps screwing up, she's never held accountable for her actions. She's never allowed to be wrong, and is almost always the one who gets to lecture people, mainly towards the end of the season. A good example of how poorly written Marinette is this season is when she whines about Ms Bustier not punishing Chloe enough when not only does she fail to understand that Chloe is still being punished, but she did absolutely nothing to bring Chloe's cheating to her teacher's attention when as class representative, it's her job. I don't care how stupid that idea sounds, that's what the show goes with, and it makes Marinette's inaction come across as very irresponsible.

But then again, neglecting her duties at school is nothing compared to acting like Marinette didn't fail to save all of reality while not showing the least bit of remorse for it. I'm just saying, when even Ben 10: Omniverse of all shows does this kind of story better, you know you've screwed up. Again, we're supposed to see it like Marinette won because the universe is in one piece, when, once again, SHE FAILED! Like I said, she failed at pretty much everything she set out to do this season and didn't stop Monarch outside of warding off his Akumas. This is seriously how the show was supposed to end, with Marinette failing to save the universe and the audience just needing to accept it. Well, in case it wasn't obvious on my front, I don't. Hell, forget Ben 10: Omniverse. Even Star vs. the Forces of Evil had the main character save the day, even if it meant potentially screwing over countless lives by destroying all magic in the world. Marinette? “Well, everyone I know and love is technically dead and the madman I spent five seasons trying to stop gets to die a martyr, but everything looks like I saved the day, so that technically means I didsave the day! Man, I'm a great hero. Good thing the other characters basically exist to remind the audience of how amazing I am.”

If there's one thing to take away from everything that's happened, it's that this was the season where Marinette has arguably become one of the biggest examples of a show failing to make the audience like their main character. There was much time dedicated to rationalizing and trying to justify the worst possible decisions she could've made and acting like she's still an amazing hero. Stuff like this only serves to further validate the criticisms people have had for her as a character ever since Season 5. And remember, this is coming from someone who went out of their way to defend Marinette last season. In an attempt to show her at her most heroic and virtuous, Season 5 pretty much cemented Marinette as a terrible main character, a terrible superhero, and a terrible role model for children.

Eight Years for This?

I'm going to be perfectly honest with you guys. This season just broke me, and there was a good reason why this analysis took so long to write.

While there were a number of outside factors that made it hard for me to get the time to write (work, the holidays, family gatherings, etc), there were still times where I either didn't have a lot of material to work with, or I just couldn't find the motivation to work on the reviews. I guess throughout all these years, I figured that after all this buildup between the Love Square and Adrien's relationship with his father, there would at least be something I could find this season that would allow me to say this was worth the wait. Unfortunately, it was just disappointment after disappointment this season, with a universally hated finale to boot.

To me, this was the season that burned away the remaining goodwill I had for the show, because there's just no salvaging it at this point. The writers pretty much butchered every single character in some way, excused the main villain's actions for a sorry excuse for a heroic sacrifice, and literally reset the universe so all of the characters we've come to know for almost a decade technically don't exist anymore. Even the cliffhanger for Season 6 really excites me, because why should I care about a character we still know nothing about becoming the main villain? Why should I care at all when the writers have made it clear they don't care either? They don't care about writing character development, they don't care about writing consistent lore for their world, they don't care about approaching serious subjects with the delicacy they deserve and they certainly don't care about telling a consistent story.

Season 5 of Miraculous Ladybug was a failure in every conceivable definition of the word. It failed to deliver a satisfying conclusion to any of the stories that had been set up for years, and if this was how the main story ended, I don't really have a lot to look forward to when Season 6 premieres.

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petit-etoile · 1 year ago

Text

everything i see, everything i feel (you are my universe)

pairing: astarion/tav wordcount: 8746 content warnings: astarion is not a vampire nor ascended & tav is not the dark urge but i use pet names from his ascended route because i think they fit & some of the dark urge connections are necessary, brief mention of tav being raised as a child soldier by gortash, tav is gender neutral, nearly 8k of pure smut other tags: alternate universe - royalty, character study, porn with plot, dom/sub undertones, mi.ssionary style, do.ggy style, riding, cr.eampie, marriage proposal, sort of archiveofourown: here. note: depending on reception & if i have time, there may be a part two or a prequel. i ended coming up with lore for this verse so i like it a lot. summary: ‘We are the Prince and his Shield,’ Astarion tells you sweetly, voice melodic in your ear. ‘This will be our world. You were made for me, and I was made for you, and we will do as we are meant to do.’

　　　　　　𝐈. ﹕previous fic　　　　𝐈𝐈. ﹕next fic

You can already tell what kind of evening it will be just from the way Astarion looks at you from beneath his eyelashes, so coy and pretty and unabashed in the way he glances over you. Whatever happened tpday at court has pleased him. He practically purrs when he steps past you to enter the sanctuary of his expansive bedroom.

‘You’ll come,’ he murmurs, ‘won’t you, darling?’

You’ll play his game because he likes it. You keep your lips pressed together in a firm line despite the way his hand slides gracefully across your waist, warming the chainmail that you wear dutifully every day so that you can keep the crown prince safe. He pouts when you pretend to not notice the playful mood he’s in. And when you change your mind after only a few minutes, Astarion will wear the same mischievous frown and think he has claimed victory over you once more.

You recite your vows to yourself to keep your mind from wandering, but it’s difficult. I am the Sword of the Crown, the Shield of the Realm. I serve no one but the Rightful King, the First of His Name, the Soul of Truth, Astarion Ancunin. It’s…admittedly hard to remember the rest. You’re distracted by the most impure thoughts. Memories of nights before. The taste of him on your tongue, the feel of him between your thighs, the sight of him as he grinds above you, the gleam of his skin as dawn begins to creep over the horizon. You squeeze your thighs together and try to wait out at least five minutes before you cave.

You peek down the hallway. There are no other guards skulking around at night. You’re not technically supposed to leave your post, but if the prince commands it… Well, it’s an excuse. You rush inside before you can feel the call of your valor and close the door after you with a soft click. Astarion sits with his legs crossed at the edge of his bed. He grins. It’s almost as predictable as you are, but you would never admit it.

‘You called, my prince?’ you ask carefully, trying to keep your tone even.

‘I did,’ he says with a delicate shrug. ‘I thought I could use entertainment, and you were there…’

You smile beneath your helm. You were always there. Astarion tries to hide it a little too much, but there’s no one else he would seek out to keep him entertained when his mood is like this. He tries to play into the expectations everyone has of him. That he’s ambitious, unpredictable, easy to rile up. The truth of the matter is that Astarion longs for you in a way that he will never admit except into the curls of your hair when he thinks you’ve fallen asleep. You care for him — love him — and there’s nothing you adore more than the way he laughs around you as though you were born for him and him alone.

‘I take it the court wasn’t too uneventful,’ you say.

He grimaces. ‘I saw Lord Gortash, unfortunately. I believe the sight of him has ruined my week.’

‘So cruel,’ you hum. You touch the buckles of your cape and release it from your bodice.

‘It’s true, isn’t it?’ Astarion asks defensively, playfully.

You touch the latch of your armor. ‘He’s head of the city guard.’

‘I ought to fire him,’ the prince says darkly. ‘Hire a new one.’

‘Who would protect the city instead?’

‘You,’ Astarion says without pause.

‘Alas, I am duty bound to serve the prince,’ you disagree. You pull the weight of your chest piece off your shoulders and drop it to the floor. ‘How can I serve the city when my mind is filled with nothing but you?’

Astarion smiles, a true smile. ‘Oh, you honor me. You truly mean every word.’

‘Without question,’ you promise.

You think about kneeling before him and looking up at him, but your chest piece is still in the way. You pull and untangle and twist until it all slides to the floor, leaving you in a simpler top. His honor, a single white rose, is pinned to the front of your shirt. You can still remember the day he gave it to you, the day you knelt in the throne room and he pressed his sword to your shoulder to claim you.

‘You are mine,’ Astarion says slowly.

‘I am yours,’ you repeat fondly.

‘Until the end of time?’

‘Until the end.’

‘And,’ Astarion begins playfully, ‘if I asked you to please me?’

‘I would be duty bound,’ you reply.

‘Then may I ask you to please me?’ he murmurs, eyes dangerous.

Astarion practically preens under your careful attention, his eyes unwavering as he watches you. You take your time. You remove the rest of your armor slowly, savoring the hungry way he watches. Even in court when you are his shadow, Astarion barely hides it. The hunger. The longing. The darkest of desires. He would claim you in public if it wouldn’t be a scandal.

You lower yourself before him, groveling on your hands and knees. You place your head in his lap and sigh when he threads his fingers through your hair. These are the moments you live for. When he is no longer a prince and you are no longer a knight. You are you, and Astarion is Astarion.

You don’t have to wonder where his mind is. Not during times like these. He’s anxious to feel you, but you take your time in this. You slip his fancy boots from his feet then take your time undoing his belts and buttons, sliding everything down his lean legs with careful intent. His cock greets you, already half hard and growing still.

It still makes you nervous, deep down inside. Astarion is a prince and the pinnacle of perfection. He could have any duke or duchess he wanted, yet it’s you he takes care of when the standing watch for hours on end from dusk til dawn has caused your bones to grow weary. The least you could do is love him like this. You lean forward and kiss the side of his cock, and Astarion’s fingers tighten in your hair.

‘Please, your highness,’ you whisper.

You are perched at his feet still awaiting commands. Like a good little pup. You shiver.

‘Go on,’ Astarion encourages.

You barely stick the tip of your tongue out and watch as his cock throbs in anticipation. This is dangerous. Obscene, even. You’ve seen him hundreds of times yet it still excites you. Carefully, you take him into your mouth and admire his debauched moan.

You have half a mind to tease him, but when you glance upwards at him, he’s as pretty as an aasimar. Or something worse, but you don’t give yourself much time to think about it. You know his desires. What he enjoys. What he tolerates for you. You know Astarion likes your little hums as you glide your mouth over his cock. He likes being pampered more than anything.

Astarion’s hand is tender as he moves your bangs out of your eyes. It’s the eye contact he wants. He likes to see and always acts like it’s the first time. He holds the edge of your jaw while you rub the tip of his cock against the inside of your cheek, eyebrows scrunching. It’s divine for you as well.

Astarion lives for the pomp and circumstance, absolutely devours court rumors with a delight you barely understand — but he would let his kingdom fall into the Underdark if it meant he could spend every hour of every day fucking you.

It’s the same for you.

It always has been ever since your coronation.

You were not like the other knights who were born into houses of servitude, second born sons and daughters who were the spares of their family names. You were given to Astarion by Lord Gortash as a way to buy favor from the crown. You were once his favorite, well-trained dog.

But unlike Lord Gortash, you are coveted by the crown in a way no other knight has been before. Astarion kisses you every morning and finishes against your spine every evening. But he is your salvation, your savior, and you are on your knees to show what that means to you.

Astarion stirs beneath your ruminations, his thighs tensing beneath your elbows, his hips doing those unconscious lusty jerks that you like so much. His head falls back as he gets lost in the feel of your tongue and mouth and he moans so sweetly that it almost distracts you from your ministrations. You take his cock as far back into your mouth as you can manage, closing your eyes to squeeze out any embarrassing tears that might threaten to fall. Like the prettiest bird, he sings for you.

‘Wait,’ he moans. ‘Not yet, I want — ’

You pull away from him as commanded, licking your lips clean of spit. His hands dance frantically against your shoulders as he pulls you up against him, cock hard against both of your bellies. He kisses you hotly, one hand fisting in your hair and the other tugging uselessly at your shirt.

‘You are needy today, my prince,’ you whisper against a barrage of kisses.

‘You were too perfect,’ he whines. ‘Always perfect for me.’

You laugh against his cheek. ‘You did say to please you.’

‘And now I’m saying to get on the fucking bed,’ Astarion fusses. ‘Oh, and clothes off. I want to see you.’

‘Yes, your — ’ you begin.

‘You,’ Astarion accuses with an affectionate pinch to your side, ‘are being quite the obstinate charge tonight. I want to taste you and be tasted in return, but be familiar with me, my love. Come back to me. Share my bed.’

You are in the middle of doing as he requests, sitting with one leg on either side of his thighs when he slides his hands to your waist and forces you to roll to the side. He pushes you further into the many adorning pillows of his bed and starts devouring you, his mouth dancing from your neck to your collarbones while he tears your shirt apart with his hands, though he does slow down enough to place the white rose on the bedside table. He pushes his palms flat against your chest and leaves bite marks and bruises across your chest and down your belly, chasing after you as you try to squirm away. Astarion finally takes interest in leaving his mark on your throat.

You set to work pushing your leggings and small clothes down your thigh, but Astarion, in all his impatience, gets in the way of that too. He presses his thigh between your legs on purpose, rolling his cock against your hip while his thigh applies almost perfect pressure to the most sensitive parts of you.

You moan and turn your face away, but Astarion chases the sound. He nuzzles your noses together until you look at him, bleary and dazed, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. He rolls his hips again with intent. He catches the sound of your moan on the tip of your tongue and returns it, his own ragged breath warm against your cheek.

‘There you are, my love,’ he whispers deliciously. ‘I’ve missed you. My treasure, my pet…’

‘Yours,’ you moan.

‘Mine,’ Astarion agrees. ‘All mine.’

He drags his fingernails across the swell of your hip, and you can’t help but chase the curve of his wrist. Your cheeks burn, but you’re tempted to beg him. To ask if he’ll please you with his hands. You want to feel his fingers pressed up inside you, to feel them curl and twist. You want it more than anything else you’ve ever wanted to. Astarion watches the way you twist and turn with a small smile on his face. He pets your hip and slides his fingers between your thighs. You can feel the cool of his jeweled rings against your heated flesh.

Astarion is grateful for your reckless display. He acquiesces to your silent begging, brushing his fingers between your folds and pressing the tip of his middle finger against you. He watches with delight as you grind against the pressure. His cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears are ruddy, and though he’s pretending to be controlled right now, you can hear how shaky his breath has become.

And then, like a god answering a prayer, he presses a finger inside of you so painstakingly slow it’s almost maddening. You mewl, watching his expressions in fascination, because his own mouth falls open as he cranes his next to watch. He adds another. He twists and twirls his fingers as deeply as he can reach it. His eyes flutter with desperation. He’s so beautiful that you can hardly stand it. You want more, so much more, and you press your wrist against your mouth to keep from begging.

‘Don’t hide from me,’ he says hoarsely. ‘I want to hear everything. Please, sing for me.’

‘More,’ you whisper thickly. ‘More, I need more, I want more.’

He kisses your jaw sloppily. ‘I’ll give you everything.’

‘It’s not enough!’

‘You’ll take it,’ Astarion tells you. ‘You’ll take what I give.’

‘Astarion,’ you weep. ‘I want you. I want — ’

This time, he might as well have ripped the rest of your clothes with his haste. You aren’t sure what he does with them, you just know that you’re naked and in his bed, surrounded by all his pillows with your thighs slick from how wet you are.

Your eyes watch your star’s every movement. He rids himself of his finery as well, shrugging out of his layers until there’s nothing left. The moonlight hits his skin prettily, almost as dainty as the way his eyes catch in the candlelight. He chases you, chases your mouth, presses his cock against you and ruts for a moment. You can’t help but be dizzy with lust yourself. You leave your own marks across his collarbones and chest, mindful of his neck and what skin would peek above his elegant collars. You wonder how he’ll take you. Astarion has always been the creative type. Sometimes you’ll ride him, and sometimes he’ll ride you until you see stars. Despite his urgency, he seems tender tonight.

Astarion wants to make you feel good. He wants to find your heat and bask in the warmth. You can tell in the way he watches your face ever so fondly. He’s always been so good at masking how much he prefers you to anyone he’s spoken to before. You’ve stood and listened as the perfect guard during meetings with dignitaries from neighboring cities, and Astarion always spoke to them with practiced politeness bearing a practiced albeit bored undertone. Yet with you, he seems to hang onto your every word. He takes it in until there was nothing left to share. He cares when you are supposed to be nothing more than a knight at his door.

‘I have a gift for you tonight,’ Astarion says suddenly. He blushes. It’s adorable how much it’s unlike him.

‘What is it?’ you ask.

‘Patience,’ he complains, but he doesn’t mean it.

Astarion reaches for something just beyond your sight, and when he sits back up, you feel as though someone has released a cage of birds in the pit of your stomach. He holds out a small silver band for your inspection. ‘A warding ring,’ he explains. ‘I had my Master of the Arcane enchant it for you — for us.’

‘Kiss me,’ you whisper. ‘Please.’

‘Put it on first,’ he insists. ‘For me.’

Something must show on your face, because he’s quick to show you his own hand. There is a matching silver band there, and it causes your heart to swell so much you think your heart will give out. Astarion, with great care, slides the band onto your finger and then looks at you, hopeful.

‘Whatever you feel, I shall feel,’ he says like a promise. ‘You and I, together.’

You guide his mouth to yours before you can do something silly like cry. When you touch his chest, intent on finding his heartbeat, you can feel it so frantic against your palm.

What is a better story than a prince and his knight? A savior and his sword? The bards will sing forever about the prince and his favored knight, their matching rings, their sacred vows. You ache with longing. You surge with love. It is all Astarion’s fault.

You push your hands through his thick curls and guide him to lie on top of you. You can feel the ring humming with magic. Though you are sure this isn’t its intended use, you can’t help but feel nervous.

You take him into your arms. He collapses into you and your only thought is that it’s a little poetic. You have caught a star as it fell from the sky. Now, it rests in your hands again and again and again until, slowly, you cannot exist without one another. His mouth finds yours, and your hands with the matching rings reach out for one another as though choreographed. Astarion presses you against his sheets and you willingly let him devour you once more. It’s all you’ve ever wanted.

Astarion kisses down your chest again. He kisses your tummy and all the muscle you’ve earned from being a knight. He kisses every scar from every battle you’ve ever endured all the way down to your hips, to that warm core that lies between them. You moan unapologetically, head rushing until you’re almost positive you’re going to faint. Astarion presses a kiss between your legs, growls as though he was a man starved before finding you, and takes you into his mouth.

It’s a little romantic how you’ve grown together. You were each other’s firsts — Astarion taught you how to kiss, and you taught him how to fondle someone else’s body without feeling shy about it. You had first used your mouth on him, but he had taken all of the knowledge you had given and weaponized it against you the next moment that he could. He’s determined to please, desperate for compliments, hopeless in all his endeavors to please you almost as much as you’ve pleased him. But unlike you, Astarion is selfish and he reaches for fruit to pluck that anyone else would have discarded as soon as something better came along. He chose you.

He licks and bites and nuzzles and feasts upon the very fruit of you, groaning at how you taste. It’s his favorite taste in the world, and he would brag about it if it didn’t make your cheeks flush. He laps at your folds hungrily and squeezes the thickness your thighs until they’ve bruised.

‘Little star,’ you whine, pressing your hands to your eyes. ‘Please, please.’

His tongue is like torture. Astarion never does anything without fully committing, and from your time together, you know he’s memorized every little thing he can do to drive you absolutely wild. He’s pulled your legs over his shoulders, his fingers moving on after bruising them to dig into your hip bones, and he hums so prettily for you.

Even you aren’t sure what you’re begging for. You want Astarion to stop teasing you so insistently. You want to feel his heartbeat, you want to taste his lips. There’s a part of you so empty and full of longing that if you wait any longer, if you withhold anymore, you might lose yourself. The only thing serving to ground you to this world is depravity, twisting carnal lust, and the depths of your love. You shiver under his touch and moan even as you try to hush it.

‘ — star!’ you cry sharply.

You try to twist out of his grasp, crying at how determined he is, but Astarion simply drags you back down to where he is as if it’s nothing to him. He doesn’t stop torturing with your tongue until you’ve choked out a sob and chased your release, chest heaving from the effort. He doesn’t let you go for long either, climbing up your body so that he can press encouraging kisses to your jaw, pushing your damp curls back from your temple.

Astarion pushes his nose against your ear and breathes in, almost so desperate to have memorized your very scent. It’s always been his little habit. As if just by knowing your smell, he is able to do whatever he needs to accomplish in this world.

‘You,’ he murmurs between kisses, ‘are always so magnificent for me.’

You reach for his hip, the back of your knuckles sweeping against his sharp bone. ‘I want to do the same for you,’ you say shakily. ‘Let me have you, please. It’s all I want.’

He moans, soft and quiet, and settles between your legs. He kisses you again with that same hunger. The same, almost desperate kind of lust. He presses you so far into his sheets that you’re not sure you’ll ever be released from them again. And you think you would be fine with that. There’s nothing more that you want than to stay here with him. His hands joined with yours, your hips pressed to his, forever until the world has ended.

You slide your hands across the broad sweep of his shoulders and feel as his muscles shift. He is so gentle with you even when he doesn’t have to be. He’s cautious, meticulous, almost ridiculously polite because it’s you. His love is like an apology for everything you’ve been through, and when he cradles the back of your head, you lean into his touch.

‘You are mine,’ he says tenderly. His thumb sweeps across your cheek.

‘Take me,’ you say hungrily. ‘I am your prize.’

‘You were created by the gods for me,’ Astarion tells you sincerely. He sits onto his knees and pulls your hands flush against his stomach. ‘Look at how well you fit against me.’

You were never one to be shy before, but his praise causes you to turn your cheek aside and look away. He pushes his hands up your thighs, searching, admiring. He says pretty words, but he’ll never understand if you were to repeat the things he’s said back to him. Underneath that prestigious bravado and practiced façade, Astarion still understands little of his own divinity and worth. You’re thankful for him as much as he is for you, and you allow him this. He finds his worth at your core and marvels in it, allowing you to see him as Astarion. Like a mortal making a deal with a cambion, he reaches for you.

‘Do you want me inside of you?’ he asks in a graveled voice.

‘More than anything else,’ you reply, choking on how thick your want is. You think about how it feels every time he’s claimed you and shudder. ‘Please.’

‘I am going to get lost in you for hours,’ Astarion promises. He smiles, dangerous and dark. ‘When you return to your post, you’ll feel me still. You’ll be sorer than you’ve ever been.’

You are so aroused it’s painful. You ache and twist, spreading your legs so that he might take you then and there without so much as a second thought. You need the closeness. His grounding touch. His cock, as much as it would embarrass you to say aloud, has been on your mind ever since he invited you inside his room. He strokes your hip.

‘You’re shaking,’ he says fondly.

He leans forward and kisses you. He connects with you like that, nose brushing yours affectionately, before he stares at the little shivers you’re now aware you’re doing. He sees everything, knows everything. It delights him.

And then he slides his cock into you. Slowly, agonizingly, inch by inch. He squeezes your hip in encouragement, but you’re too full and he’s too thick for you to manage any coherent thought. He’s determined to reach the deepest parts of your core.

Astarion speaks through gritted teeth. ‘You are perfect.’

‘No,’ you say. ‘You are.’

‘I like to watch,’ he says honestly. ‘I like to see how you take me. You’re so tight here, did you know?’

‘More — ’

‘Use your words for me.’

You swallow. ‘I want you — to fuck me.’

‘You’ve been a good pup,’ Astarion says with a small laugh. ‘I’ll make love to you until dawn calls.’

For the faintest few heartbeats, this is the only way you want to exist. He is pressed inside of you, and you are surrounded by nothing but him and his scent and his bed and his pretty words, longing so intently to memorialize this moment. Astarion is haloed by the silver moonlight. He shines prettier than the crown he wears at court.

He shines brighter than the stars.

You’re aware of how fragile your breathing sounds. You forcefully drag air down into your lungs and hold his gaze, so warm and soft when he looks at you. You don’t know why it’s so different this time with him, but you reach out until he entwines your fingers together and you lose yourself in a way you haven’t before. You don’t realize you’re crying until he coos at you and calls you beautiful.

Astarion only moves once he’s assured you’re not in any pain. He’s conscious of the way you tense, but you shake your head and try to dry your tears.

If you’re being honest, you aren’t really sure why you’re so emotional tonight. You’re ignoring what the rings promise on purpose. A meaning that you are too nervous to confront. You know it’s how much you wish this was your fate. It all comes to a boil when he leans forward and kisses the tip of your ear. Astarion wraps his arms around you and moans softly in your ear, the heat of his cheek flush against your temple.

‘I love you,’ he whispers.

‘I can feel you,’ you whisper back, voice uneven. ‘All the way inside.’

‘Our souls are touching tonight,’ Astarion promises you. ;This is what I want to give you.’

Once he’s assured that you’re fine, Astarion begins moving inside you. You still feel overly full. It’s almost difficult to breathe, that you’re so aware of how deep his cock is inside of you — as if it’s the first time you’ve experienced him before. He murmurs encouragement into your hair and ruts further and further, but when you press your fingers against his biceps, you can feel how he’s shaking too.

‘Let me be yours,’ you say softly, eyes fluttering closed. ‘Let me be with you, Astarion, please.’

‘You are my pretty consort,’ Astarion says fiercely. ‘You belong to me, and I to you.’

His consort, his knight. The one he comes home to, that he ignores all the other lovely people at court for. The idea of it makes your blood warm, makes you feel a little wild and different. You rock your hips back against Astarion’s. Feeling him lose what little of his control pushes you over the edge. You start mumbling nonsensically, thank you, thank you, my prince, my star, thank you, I feel it, Astarion and he growls low in the bottom of his throat. His hips stutter against yours and you know with a little wiggle, you could make him spend then and there.

It’s only when Astarion pushes into you as far as he can go, the tip of his cock pressed as deep into your core as you can handle it, that you remember what a devout worshiper you are. You’re fully aware of how your spine protests the way your back arches up off the bed. You feel Astarion’s mouth hot and desperate against the side of your throat, his hands slowly sliding down your skin to grip your hips, the tips of his fingers digging in harshly to the curve of your ass.

When you dare meet his gaze, you’re mesmerized.

Astarion has always been the most beautiful person you’ve ever set eyes on. The height of his cheekbones, the way they flush when you moan his name. His uneven smile, the way his teeth point when he laughs. His intense eyes that take in even your faintest moves. He is sharp and calculated, cunning and keen on dramatics — but underneath, you can see the gentler side. The warmth in his gaze. The way he laughs ugly with you instead of with practiced finesse. You fit rather well together. Perfectly, like a puzzle. Intoxicatingly. He catches you staring and his breath catches in his throat.

You must be quite the sight as well. Astarion always lavished you with the utmost attention, often buying you things you’d never need as a knight. Rings, gowns, circlets and other finery to wear with him on your occasional strolls through Baldur’s Gate when you were off-duty and carefree.

You feel nearly feral at this moment. It takes all your self-control to not rake your nails down his spine or bite his shoulder because you’re too full and he’s too much and you’re almost certain you’re going to explode, but you wrap your legs around his hips and pull him tighter to you until there’s almost nothing else he can do that grind uselessly, desperate sounds coming from both of your mouths as you try to hold on just a little longer.

Without thinking, without caution, you whisper, ‘Inside — Tonight, I want you to — ’

‘Gods,’ he chokes out. ‘You’ll be the death of me.’

‘Please,’ you beg. ‘I’ve been good. I’ve been — ’

Astarion burrows his face against your collarbone, whining unceremoniously. That’s when you can feel it, his cum, hot and warm, so wonderful and dizzying that you also forget to be dignified. Your fingers stutter against his skin, and if it was painful to experience, the only proof is the way Astarion hisses at the burn and coils dangerously beneath your touch.

‘That’s it,’ he soothes proudly. ‘You’ve done well, my sweet.’

You murmur, ‘So much.’

‘Don’t tease me,’ Astarion says. He pouts his bottom lip. ‘You’re quite beautiful, you know.’

‘Not as beautiful as you,’ you say.

‘Well,’ Astarion allows with a small laugh, ‘I am rather perfect, I agree.’

He groans when he pulls away from you, brow furrowed in concentration. He trembles with exertion, and whatever other plans he might have had are forgotten, for Astarion drops down into his sheets beside you in all his naked and exhausted glory and presses close to you, an arm thrown over your waist.

A pang of guilt hits you at the sight of his closed door. Your armor is thrown carelessly across this floor, and while you wish you could enjoy this moment of bliss with him, you must continue to do your actual duty of guarding the prince. You move, delicate, to stand up. Astarion wraps his other arm around you.

‘Where are you going?’ he demands tiredly. ‘The sun is not yet up. Come back.’

‘My post — ’

‘Fuck your post,’ he snorts. ‘Your only duty is to lie in my bed and look pretty.’

You open your mouth to protest, but Astarion fusses. It’s hard to deny him even though you know only what the Captain of his Kingsguard has instilled in you. The moonlight is a gorgeous embellishment on his skin, and the ridges of his body are enticing enough that you forget your vows for the time being. Your heart squeezes at the tenderness. Astarion welcomes you back into his arms without further complaint. It’s your turn to tuck your head against his shoulder, basking in the warmth of his body as he cradles you close.

‘This is where you belong,’ Astarion tells you plainly. ‘You and I belong in bed having forgotten our other duties forevermore. The kingdom may fall to rot and ruin for all I care. As long as I have you, I care not.’ He touches your hip. ‘I know what you must be thinking. That it isn’t that easy. But it is that easy. I’m the prince and I want it to be so. I see our fate in my dreams.’

You allow yourself to daydream and doze for the moment. He’s murmuring sweet things into your hair, and your eyes are so heavy you know when you close them, it’ll be hard for you to wake up if you give in. The ache in your muscles is comforting. It’s a reminder of all the ways Astarion has ever had you, and you can’t help but wonder if this really is where your life was always meant to head.

You do fall asleep. Despite your best efforts to stay awake, you fall into a peaceful slumber with Astarion’s hand petting your spine. When you next awake, Astarion is no longer at your side. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed staring out of the window watching as dawn begins to peek through.

He hasn’t left you entirely alone. He’s draped his many fancy satin blankets over you and somehow managed to coax your head onto a pillow without waking you. You’re almost inspired to fall back asleep at the sight, but the view of Astarion basking in an orange glimmer keeps you from entering the depths of your mind once more.

‘No,’ Astarion says. He’s smiling. ‘Don’t move. I like the way you look.’

‘And how do I look, your highness?’

‘Sated.’

‘Come back to me, my love,’ you say. You try to hold one of your hands out, but you’re still so very tired from before. You press your cheek further into the pillow. ‘’m cold.’

‘I was thinking,’ he says.

‘Enough thinking,’ you whine. ‘I miss you beside me.’

‘Promise me something first.’

‘What shall I promise?’

‘That when I am king, you will help me create my new world,’ Astarion says, peering affectionately at you from over his shoulder. ‘A world where you are both my shield and my consort. A world where no one else like us has to get hurt.’

You start to sit up at that, blood suddenly rushing to your head as you try to think of what he means. Were you not already his Shield, extending your Sword to his greatest foes? Were you not already his Consort in all but proper name? You furrow your eyebrows, too sleepy and overwhelmed, but Astarion is quick to come to your side, to press kisses into your hair and against your ear and at the tears on your cheeks.

‘When I am king, there will be no need for us to hide like this,’ Astarion promises, petting his hand comfortingly down your spine. He shushes you. ‘I will sit on the throne and you will sit beside me.’ When he’s certain you’re done crying, he adds, ‘Or in my lap, if you prefer.’

Somehow, there’s only one thing you can manage to say. ‘I love you.’

‘And I love you,’ Astarion says. ‘That’s why I will do this for us.’

‘Will it go well?’

He hums. ‘Of course it will go well. I will be king. I will make it go well.’

You say again, ‘I love you.’

‘We are the Prince and his Shield,’ Astarion tells you sweetly, voice melodic in your ear. ‘This will be our world. You were made for me, and I was made for you, and we will do as we are meant to do.’

‘I promise,’ you say, ‘to help you.’

‘Then say no more, my love,’ he whispers. He kisses the side of your throat again and slowly pulls his silk sheets away from your skin. The cold morning air leaves a trail of gooseflesh down your spine, and he tastes every knot of it with his mouth and tongue. He gives you commands, ‘Let me have you again. You’re so beautiful in the morning light. I need you now more than ever. Gods, the things you do to me.’

You rock your hips back to meet his. It’s an alluring situation straight from your wildest, most longing of dreams — a world where you might sit alongside Astarion as he rules, no longer a simple guard dog to follow commands, but something else. Something sweeter.

It was like marriage but better. The thought of you and Astarion rising to godhood through his own determined means rather than falling into the same song the bards often liked to play on unrequited love. You allow him to trace his fingers down your stomach to that place between your legs, your warm core where you’re certain he’s found his divinity. Astarion presses his cock against your lower back and gives into his own avarice. He bites your shoulder almost a touch too rough and leaves a bruise in the shape of his teeth, reveling in your shocked cry.

You want him.

You want to be by his side, to kneel at his feet. You want to watch him dress in the mornings and fall into his arms every evening. You want to place his crown atop his brow. You arch your hips against his waist, and ponder about the creation of the empyrean heavens above. You will guide him to become celestial.

It’s with a near untamed fervor that Astarion tears through his sheets to get to you. He slides his knee beneath yours and pushes it forward, his breath warm and hiccuped against the blade of your shoulder. He doesn’t hurt you and he never would, but he slides his cock inside, the tenderness of earlier forgotten.

‘Be loud,’ he encourages you, groaning, his hand still scrambling against the arc of your belly. He sounds debauched. ‘Let them all hear. Let them know.’

He fucks into you like he wants you both to grow together. One body and one soul. You’re glad for it. It only intensifies the burn from the evening and pushes you to a place you’ve never been before. You’re almost certain you see sparks in your vision, but you do as asked. You don’t swallow down your moans. They’re taut, sharp, staccato ah-ah-ahs that match the sun’s rise.

It’s almost sweet how hard Astarion fucks into you. His princely demeanor is gone now, the control he tries to exhibit. He moans freely as well and kisses without meaning. Your shoulder, the back of your head, the nape of your neck, and he’s babbling things that don’t make sense. But you’re no better. Your cheeks are so warm you’re feverish, hands clenched in his sheets, and the pleasure borders on welcomed pain when he sits up behind you, knee still forcing you to be pliant, as he drags his cock in and out of you from behind. Astarion is watching again, one hand on your lower back, the other on your ass. When you try to hide your face in mild embarrassment, he scolds you.

‘Let me see you,’ Astarion rasps. ‘Let me see, I want to see everything — ’

So you let him, shifting and arching as much as your back will let you. Your muscles feel strained. Your mind is hardly there. But the prince has asked, and it would be rude of you to not heed his call. It’s not as though it matters. You’re easily distracted by the way he presses himself in and out of you, intoxicated by the gravitational pull he’s created between you. You can’t help but lean into his every touch, to mewl, to whine the exact way he likes.

You wonder what Lord Gortash would think of his loyal dog if he saw it now. You were taught the blade and the bow, how to use a lance and a shield, and you were never meant to be anything more than a warrior given to the ground so that he could get on the good side of the king. There isn’t much of your life you can remember before you were brought to the steps of the throne room and thrown down before the prince and his father. All you remember is looking up and seeing an angel smiling down at you.

So you arch your back and push up into your elbows, looking over your shoulder to catch Astarion’s eyes. He’s constantly looking between your face to make sure you’re alright and looking down at your hips where your bodies meet. He has the audacity to blush. It makes him look sweet and less severe.

‘More — ’

The fairest thought you have is that you’re not sure you can take more. There’s something ferocious building in the pit of your stomach, a volatile hunger unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. Your almost delirious with how much greed is inside you, how you long to do this all day if you could. Sitting pretty on your hands and knees and belly while Astarion ravishes you — forgetting your duties and the kingdom — but it’s somehow worse than before when you’re aware that he would do the same. Gone is any sense of decency, replaced by something carnal, something infernal.

Just when you think he might be done with you, Astarion pulls out and drags your body along. He lays handsomely in the center of his pillows, a deep blue and rich satin and silk display, and pulls you into his lap. His bottom lip is ruined from where he’s bitten it in an attempt to maintain control.

He arranges for you as he likes. He tilts his head to the side as if looking upon a painting. Finally, he coaxes you upwards and whispers kind encouragements as you guide and slide his cock back inside of you. You aren’t sure how far it can go, but then it goes deeper and deeper and deeper until you’re sick.

‘Oh,’ you cry sweetly. ‘It’s too much. It’s too much, I can’t — ’

‘You can,’ Astarion promises, rubbing his thumb across your hip. ‘You can do anything. You were made for me, and I was made for you, and we were created for this.’

You sit atop him, your ass flush against his hips, and try desperately to not squirm in his lap. The wiggling makes it worse, you think. You feel swollen around him. He feels thickest inside of you. And you can’t help but lean forward as he rubbs his hands up and down your spine, kissing your temple and cheek and jaw. You can kiss him better this way. You can taste the sweetness of his mouth, taste his words.

‘I love you,’ you say over and over.

‘I know,’ he murmurs, kissing your tears.

And you do cry in this position, overwhelmed and stuttering. Astarion guides your hips back and forth across his so that he’s not necessarily drilling inside of you, but watching how you dance across his cock. He always watches so intently as if he’s afraid to miss anything you do. He guides you intently, humming, tensing beneath your thighs as you try to balance yourself with your hands on his belly.

Astarion moans at the sight. He sounds positively wrecked. You decide that you want to hear him sing for you again, so you raise your hips this time and slide them back down. You squeeze your eyes shut in concentration, treating it more like trying to hit a tricky shot with an arrow rather than taking and un-taking every inch of his cock. You’re trembling so much that you seek out his hands, guiding them away from your hips so he can tuck them under your thighs for help.

‘Ah,’ Astarion says hoarsely. ‘Fuck.’

And that’s how he helps you, his hands helping carry your weight so that you can bounce on his cock and enjoy every minute of it. The physical strain is worth it. You know Astarion likes to watch, possessive of the way you look and ride, and his eyes shine with a certain kind of deviance that you’ve grown to love.

It’s a long way from where you started as a poor soul standing on the steps, but you lean forward and kiss your raison d'être on his open mouth, savoring the way his bruised lip tastes in your mouth, enjoying just how much he enjoys you. The sunlight warms your skin and basks Astarion in a golden glow, so impossibly handsome that they should write songs about the way he looks after a night of lovemaking. He groans, trapping your bottom lip between his teeth and bites down hard enough you’re almost certain he’s drawn blood.

You don’t mind it. You welcome the rougher things, enjoy them as much as he does. You lean back, hands now behind you on his thighs, and try to not feel too self-conscious about how open you’re being with your body. You’re encouraged to do it. His reactions are what drive you to be better. Because Astarion’s eyes widen slightly to take in the sight of your legs spread apart as you sit on his cock, your skin shining with a delicate veil of sweat. He comes with a rough moan.

Gods, you could listen to the sound of him all day.

You fall forward onto Astarion’s chest. Your limbs feel like nothing after a night of increasingly more difficult sex, but it’s worth it for the way he spoils you after. Astarion kisses you nice and slow, lips and tongue and teeth, as if an apology for the roughness you willingly endured. He cradles you close to his body. He always seeks your warmth, always tries to press as close as he can.

It’s your turn to preen under his careful ministrations. Astarion pushes your sweaty hair back from your face and runs the tips of his fingers across your cheekbones and forehead, following the delicate lines of your bone structure. He lightly pinches your cheeks as if to savor the heat of your blush, but it doesn’t hurt when he does it. He kisses them better. He helps you slide back down into his sheets and takes note of the mess, smoothing his fingers against the bruises and love bites he’s left as gifts against your skin.

Astarion takes gentle care as he lifts your hand. He admires the ring on it and watches as he slides his fingers into yours so that his ring can crowd the empty spaces of your fingers. He kisses the back of your hand like a proper prince and then unceremoniously collapses down by your side, boneless and lazy.

‘You’ve made a mess,’ you accuse him sleepily.

‘I made you happy,’ Astarion corrects.

You reach out and touch his throat. ‘You’ve ruined your sheets.’

‘These sheets are perfect, my love,’ he murmurs. ‘Just like you.’

Later in the morning, after you’ve rested again despite your attempts to stay awake, you’re coaxed back into existence by Astarion’s lips dancing softly against the nape of your deck. You’re almost certain he’s going to ask for more — a thought that startles you — but instead he lifts you from the depths of his blankets and carries you to a bathing tub in the corner of his quarters. He lowers you into freshly warmed water, and you try to not let how much you long for him show.

‘The maids — ’

‘They’ve seen you,’ he says with a shrug. ‘But they did not care. You should have heard the way they swooned over us.’

He lavishes you again with rose petals and fancy perfumes and soaps. He guides a cloth over your skin and even massages a rather determined knot in your hip. You lean into his touch, eyes fluttering closed. You’d let him pamper you for the next month if you could.

‘I will have you like this often,’ Astarion warns. ‘Tonight. Every night. You have no idea what you’ve done to me. It’s like you’ve enchanted me.’

He’s climbed in with you at this point, tucked behind you so that he can style your hair in a plait. He likes the way it’s gotten long. You can tell how hard he’s thinking by how silent he is. His fingers trickle water down your spine and occasionally trace the shape of a petal against your skin. You shiver and allow him these idle distractions, basking in his touches and singing while he allows himself to wander in his lost thoughts. You fall asleep again briefly, lulled into a dream by the warmth and the relaxing scents of the many perfumes and Astarion humming softly in your ear.

Astarion washes your chest again to avoid having to leave the bath. He’s in one of his contemplative moods, eyes somewhere a thousand miles away, lips twisted in curiosity. You would’ve stayed forever as well, but the water is slowly getting colder and you’re beginning to shiver. You look over your shoulder at him. You watch as his eyelashes flutter and close as if he too is moments away from falling asleep, but then you see it. A sign of melancholic hope.

‘You and I belong together,’ you tell him.

‘We are the greatest match together the world has ever seen,’ Astarion agrees. ‘There is no one else.’

‘It is an honor,’ you say. You catch a petal in your palm and show him.

He pulls your fingers up to his mouth with his own hand guiding you. He kisses your palm and the petal, and then each of your fingertips one by one.

‘I’m doing this for you, you know,’ he murmurs.

‘You are doing this for us,’ you say, shaking your head. ‘We are a family.’

‘We are more than a family,’ he insists. ‘We are more than lovers. Our souls belong together.’

‘I’ve never been happier,’ you say.

Whatever world Astarion is imagining, you’re beginning to see it too. A world where being a king means more than throwing extravagant parties and hosting masquerades and balls and ignoring those in need. Astarion cares because you care, and that makes your heart squeeze dangerously. You are with Astarion when he usurps his father’s court. He had called them weak-willed men in front of his own council, his lip curled in distaste. They had allowed a shadow ruler to take his father’s place for years, had controlled the crown like a puppeteer would his prized puppet. And now, Astarion has pulled together enough favor to overthrow those who had betrayed him, who had betrayed you, and who had betrayed Baldur’s Gate most of all.

‘I believe you are sitting in my chair,’ Astarion calmly tells Ketheric Thorm.

The removal of the pretenders is fairly certain. Ketheric’s own daughter Isobel aids in his arrest. The installation of Astarion’s council is relatively easy with such esteemed replacements. Wyll Ravengard takes his father’s place as Lord Commander of the Flaming Fist. Karlach takes Enver Gortash’s place as leader of the city guard, betrayed as you were, and her eyes burn with heat when she pulls him from his tower. Gale and Shadowheart had been planning the entire thing for years behind the scenes, favoring Astarion against the old court. All you do is stand beside Astarion with your hand on the hilt of your blade though no one dared raise their arms against him.

Astarion’s coronation takes place later that week, and even with all the planning, he does not allow you to stray from his side. You are with him when meeting with the emissaries Lady Lae’zel and Lord Halsin and Lady Jaheira. You are with him during his fittings. You are with Astarion the night before when he fucks you so hard you see stars.

You are there the day of his coronation. He is dressed in brilliant reds and off-whites and wears a crown with rubies. You stand alongside him in the armor he commissioned for you styled after Dame Aylin’s and hold the sword gifted to you from the crown.

It is a wedding as well.

A wedding of peace and resilience. A wedding of love and understanding.You drop down before him to one knee and swear anew your vows, though now they taste sweeter on your tongue. I am the Sword of the Crown, the Shield of the Realm, the Consort of the Chosen. I serve no one but the Rightful King, the First of His Name, the Soul of Truth, Astarion Ancunin. When you rise, Astarion kisses you.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x oc #astarion smut #bg3 smut #from ，carcosa .#my fic #* et toi，et moi

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