#about to be called about her families deaths

[teenidlegirl]

⠀✸⠀⠀𝓑𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘 𝓞𝐅 𝓣𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝓜𝐄𝐒𝐒⠀⠀┈⠀﹙⠀𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟏⠀﹚⠀ა ︎ ﾞ .

꒰⠀⠀⟡⠀.⠀military!miguel⠀𝓍⠀fem!neighbor!reader⠀.⠀⟡⠀⠀꒱

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀summary.⠀you’re nine months pregnant and your baby could arrive at any moment. you and miguel are excited until he’s called back for a dangerous mission, left to deal with the hardest decision ever, leaving you and the baby.

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀content.⠀angst, some fluff, pregnancy, heartbreak, arguments, emotional distress, firearms, mentions of violence, mentions of death, military shenanigans, sorta hurt/comfort

❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter⠀ ❜

time has passed and you’re 9 months pregnant and your due date is three weeks away. while feeling utterly exhausted, you and miguel are excited for your daughter to come and start your life as a family. everything is prepared when the time comes. hospital bag filled with everything you need, nursery set up looking pretty for your baby girl, the entire apartment is baby-proof which was miguel’s doing. until you find another apartment or a house, which miguel has been house-hunting for months now, your apartment will be your home for your little family. you two couldn’t be more excited for this.

you, especially, are excited to pop out this baby because damn you are tired as hell. you told miguel no more babies after your first because pregnancy is exhausting. well, at least no more babies for a long time since who knows if you and miguel wish to have more in the future. he can’t blame you after seeing the exhaustion on your face during these last few months. but for right now, this baby is all you need and you can’t wait to meet her.

“i just realized we don’t have a name yet.”

you and miguel sit outside the patio of your apartment, sunbathing while enjoying a bowl of fruit. you wear a simple periwinkle babydoll dress with daisies, your large baby bump sticks out adorably in it. the bowl of fruit rests on top of your belly as a table, a tiny plastic bowl of course, easier to eat from. your legs rests comfortably on miguel’s lap as his large, calloused hands caressed them.

“oh, you’re right. we haven’t thought about one.” his brows furrowed slightly, thinking as miguel takes a few grapes from the bowl.

“all this time, three weeks until she’s born and we still haven’t thought of a name for her.” you giggle, munching on a few of your favorite fruits.

miguel huffs, grinning. “great parents, huh?”

you think as you feed him a strawberry. “any ideas?”

he ponders for a moment of possible names but nothing comes to mind. “not really, ¿tú?”

no ideas popped in your mind. “nope.”

“what about your name?”

you wipe off that smirk on his stupid handsome face by feeding him another strawberry.

“we’re not following that damn hispanic tradition of naming your first kid after you.”

miguel chuckles at your bluntness. “just an idea.”

“my sister wasn’t named after my mom because she hates her name and didn’t want to do that to my sister so we’re gonna do the same thing.”

“you hate your name?” one of his thick brows arched.

“well… no. i didn’t say that! there’s one person in this family with my name and that’s me.”

that elicits another chuckle from him. “i’m just messing with you, bebé. but i love your name.” he leans forward and leaves a soft kiss on your forehead.

you roll your eyes, shyly smiling. “thanks.”

while munching on fresh fruit, no name ideas popped in either of your heads.

“ugh! why is it so difficult to come up with a name?” you slouch in your seat grumpily.

“we still have time, we’ll figure out something.” miguel reassures you, rubbing your swollen belly. “don’t stress about it, okay? it’s not good for both of you. it’ll come to us one day.”

a sigh escapes your lips. “hopefully.”

another kiss on your forehead. “for now it’ll be princesa.” his hand caresses your swollen tummy which results a kick from your baby. “she likes it.”

you hum happily, leaning against him. “i love it when you call her that, it melts my heart.”

his arm wraps around your shoulders, embracing you comfortably as his other hand grabs the bowl from on top of your belly and holds it. “i’m glad to know. she is mi princesa y tú mi reina.”

you lift your head up and look at him with a loving smile. “té quiero, mi osito.”

miguel’s heart flutters every time you call him that. you consider him your big teddy bear and he loves it. resting the fruit bowl beside him on the sofa, his hand gingerly cups your face as he leans closer and captures your lips in a gentle, loving kiss. your hand does the same and cup his cheek. the kiss is interrupted by a faint kick in your tummy.

you pull away with a giggle, caressing his cheek. “every time we kiss, she always kicks.”

“maybe she’s happy that her parents are in love.” a silly grin plastered on his face.

“they are and her parents love her.”

you and miguel go in for another kiss, resulting in another faint kick. you agree with miguel, your baby girl is happy that her parents love each other. you want nothing more than your daughter to grow up with loving parents and who love each other, to demonstrate a loving relationship.

later in the evening, you and miguel just finished having dinner. tonight was ravioli, a craving of yours which miguel had no problem making. he loves cooking for you, one of his many acts of service. you also love his cooking, he could be a chef as a side job. you told miguel once that he should have his own cooking show. he laughed and said that you should be the one with a cooking show, he adores your cooking. maybe a couple cooking show.

you rest on the couch watching a movie while miguel cleans up the kitchen. the man won’t let you touch or lift anything, just like throughout your entire pregnancy but is even more insistent about it since you could pop at any moment. in the beginning you were against it but not so much anymore considering your basketball sized tummy. besides, you get to watch your boyfriend maneuver around. admiring those bulging muscles ripple as he moves. biceps, shoulders, back, thighs. all so scrumptious.

once the dishes were washed and stored away, miguel makes a quick visit to the bathroom but not before leaving a kiss on your forehead then finally making his way over there. after doing his business and while washing his hands, he feels his phone vibrating in his back pocket. quickly drying his hands with a towel, miguel reached behind with a hand, grabs his phone and sees who’s calling.

‘IRONHEAD’

flash is calling him and that’s not a good sign. there are only two reason why he would call him: either for a mission or get-together with the team. miguel really hopes it is the second option even though he isn’t in the mood to go out, not with you about to give birth soon and he told the guys that.

exhaling deeply, miguel presses the green button and brings up the phone to his ear. it was a very long, hectic conversation. frustrated groans, mumbling, and swear words thrown around. it was so long that you eventually got worried since he has never taken that long in the bathroom. miguel knew you would eventually make your way over here. finally, he hangs up and heads back to the living room with not so good news hanging heavily on his shoulders.

you’re about to get up until miguel enters the room. the relief smile on your face falters when you notice his anxious expression. thick brows furrowed and eyes filled with apprehension.

“what’s wrong?” now your brows furrowed.

another long, deep breath of anxiety escapes his lips. “we need to talk about something…”

suddenly, your heart starts beating fast with anxiety. oh that isn’t good and honestly you’re scared. the moment miguel sits down next to you, the tension settles in. thick, heavy, and unsettling. both of you are nervous wrecks but miguel is more anxious since he’s about to tell you the worse news imaginable. he can already envision the tears of anger and frustration that will soon come in a few seconds.

“flash called me…” miguel starts off, his hand seeking yours and gently holds it. god, he feels like dying of anxiety. too afraid to speak the truth but mainly your reaction and where this conversation goes. “there’s a mission that i can’t back out.”

your brows furrowed a bit more. a mission, okay. the man is in the military, it’s bound for missions to come up. however, they can vary and the apprehension on miguel’s face say this isn’t an ordinary mission.

a shaky breath escapes his lips as miguel prepares to spill the unfortunate news of all.

“it’s in south america and… i don’t know long it’s gonna take and i have to fly out tomorrow.”

you feel your heart drop so suddenly. a plague of anxiety invades your veins completely, coursing through your body so viciously.

“t-tomorrow? what do you mean tomorrow?” you panic. “you can’t leave, not right now.”

“i know, baby, i know.” miguel squeezed your hand reassuringly, his heart breaking at your panic state. “i don’t want to leave either but i can’t back out on this, i have no choice—”

“you do have a choice!” you stand up abruptly, as much as you can due to your heavy tummy. “you don’t have to leave, miguel! you can’t leave!”

his heart continues breaking. “mi reina, siéntate por favor.” miguel tries to reach out for your hand to calm you down but you back away from his attempt.

“no, miguel! you can’t leave! she’s almost here and you’re leaving?! i need you here! she needs you here!”

he knew it would reach to this breaking point. you panicking, crying, and begging to him to stay. each cry is a stab to his heart. miguel hates seeing you cry, especially when he is the reason for it.

miguel stands up, a remorseful look in his eyes. desperate to reach out and pull you back into his arms. “mi reina, i know. i want nothing more than to stay here with you and be here for you and our daughter. i don’t wanna leave you two, it’s the last thing i want and i fucking hate leaving you. i told flash no many times, that i refuse to go. he understood, he and the guys don’t want to do this either but command left us with no choice and said the mission won’t be successful without me.”

all you do is keep shaking your head no, refusing to believe this is happening. the love of your life, the father of your child is leaving you for god knows how long before the birth of your daughter. suddenly, it feels like your world is crumbling. everything is crashing down like a paper plane. one minute you were enjoying fresh fruit and sunbathing while discussing possible baby names, then your boyfriend has to leave you and your baby for a mission in another fucking country for an unknown amount of time. how the fuck did things change so drastically?

“no, you can’t.” you keep shaking your head in denial as tears spill uncontrollably. “you can’t leave. she’s almost here, miguel. she’s almost here and i can’t do this alone, please don’t do this.”

miguel’s heart continues breaking immensely at the sight of your tears. it triggers his own tears to fall. “lo siento, mi reina. lo siento mucho.” he attempts to reach out for your hand and you don’t fight back, bringing you closer to him into his hold.

“miguel, por favor.” you look up at him with pleading, glossy eyes. “please don’t leave me… not again…”

fuck, that shatters his heart completely.

he left you once, broke your heart, broke your trust, and he forever hated himself for that. now miguel has to do the one thing he swore to leave do again, only this time he had no choice. now he hates being in the military. he has to leave you and it fucking hurts, especially to leave you when your baby will arrive soon. miguel doesn’t want to miss the birth of his daughter. he needs to be there for her, for you.

why did it have to be now?

at this moment, he hated being in the military.

“lo siento mucho, mi reina.” his calloused hands gently cup your face and wipe your never-ending tears. “i don’t wanna leave you and our baby. not again, mi reina. i’m so so sorry…”

your apartment is filled with the sounds of your sobs. both of you are crying at this moment. you completely break down and miguel doesn’t hesitate to pull you to his chest and embrace you tightly, feeling your trembling figure in his arms. afraid to let you go, doesn’t ever want to let you go.

the rest of the night was a sobbing catastrophe. the four walls of your apartment concealed with your heartbroken sobs and pleads.

what if he doesn’t come back?

what if he’s killed in combat?

what if, instead of celebrating the birth of your daughter, you are mourning the death of your boyfriend?

the excitement of becoming a family now ruined.

the day you and miguel have been dreading has come. the day he leaves for south america. since you’ve been crying all night, you feel utterly exhausted besides feeling depressed. you sat there in bed all miserable watching miguel pack up and get ready for his departure. every time your eyes meet, miguel had a guilty, remorseful expression. it pained him to see how miserable you looked. those tearful eyes silently begging him to stay, stop packing, dive back into bed with you, and stay with you forever. miguel hated this just as much as you do.

despite how much he hates to leave you, there is only one person miguel trusts to take care of you while he’s gone. he contacted his mother and ask her to stay here with you until he returns. the woman did not hesitate to agree and make her way over. you didn’t bother to argue, too busy being miserable. but truth be told, you actually don’t mind conchata staying here and helping out. you would love to spend more time with her, you know she’d do anything for you and the baby. she’s pretty much your mother-in-law. you agree with the plan. however, you still wish for miguel to stay.

through teary tears, you watch miguel return from the bathroom clad in all black attire. even feeling miserable, he still manages to take your breath away. he approaches the nightstand, opens the drawer, and takes out his pistol that he keeps here ever since he’s been staying at your place. protection purposes of course. miguel won’t take any risks, especially when it comes you and the baby. no harm has come yet the man is accustomed to securing and protecting. after checking the clip of ammo and putting the safety on, miguel shoves the pistol in the back of his pants and covers it with his shirt. his eyes meet yours once again but this time you look away, concealing the tears already spilling. his heart aches every time, so much guilt plaguing his body.

eventually, conchata arrives to see the heartbreaking sight in front of her. her son prepared to leave for another dangerous mission and her future daughter-in-law silently crying. you and miguel are in the living room by the time she gets there. she greets her eldest with a hug and kiss before approaching you.

“oh mija…” she gently pulls you into a tight, comforting embrace which you accept immediately and softly sob into her shoulder.

miguel observed solemnly, heartbroken for you and dreading his departure. he really doesn’t want to go, not to leave you crying and begging for him. he didn’t want this yet he was left with no choice. the ringing from his phone snaps him out of those depressing thoughts. a text message from flash saying he and the guys are here waiting in the car outside.

it’s time to leave, unfortunately.

breaking your embrace, conchata gives your arms a comforting rub with a soft reassuring smile before walking over to say goodbye to her son. miguel embraces his mother, exhaling deeply.

“té amo mucho, mijo. lo prometo. cuídate mucho, mijo, por favor.” she glances up at him. “make sure to come back to your family.”

you and your daughter. his beautiful family.

miguel silently promises to not allow his mother to lose another son, to not leave you a widow and single mother, to not leave his daughter without a father.

he will come back, he’ll make sure of it.

“lo prometo, mamá. té amo.” he plants a kiss on her scalp and embraces her one last time before he moves on to you, conchata stepping aside and turning around to give you both privacy.

instinctively, your head starts shaking as tears swell in your eyes for the nth time. “please don’t go…” you grip onto his shirt as if you’re terrified to let him go.

his heart continues to shatter. “lo siento, mi reina.” miguel’s strong arms wrap around you and hold you close to him, as much as your swollen belly allows you which is lightly pressed against his abs. “i promise to come back to you and our baby. i swear it, mi amor. i will come back to you both.”

his sincere words make you break down uncontrollably. you know miguel will do everything he can to come back home to you and the baby. you know he doesn’t want to leave as much as you do. you sob into his chest as his arms tighten around you, holding your trembling form. one last hug before he disappears for who knows how long. one last time to be with each other before parting ways.

miguel leans down, you reach up and capture each other’s lips for one final kiss. a kiss that you wish it could last forever. calloused hands gingerly cup your face. you grip onto his wrists tightly, afraid to let him go. savoring this one final kiss, savoring the taste of each other before drifting away. miguel gives you one last kiss then kneels in front of your swollen tummy and adorns it with loving kisses. your fingers gently brush through those soft brown curls one last time.

“i promise to come back to you, mi princesa.” he whispers against your belly, earning a faint kick which makes you both smile sadly. rising to his full height towering you, he cups your cheek. “i’ll come back to you, mi reina. té quiero tanto.”

“té quiero.” you desperately reach out to tug on his dog tags and bring him down for another final kiss which is sadly interrupted by miguel’s phone ringing, making him groan in frustration.

miguel whispers you a final ‘i love you’ before parting ways and grabbing his black duffle bag from the kitchen counter. you start sobbing more as you watch him preparing to leave. conchata turns around and approached you with open arms. sighing heavily, miguel turns around to look at you both one last time with a remorseful expression before opening the door and walking out, closing it behind him. you broke down once again as you watch the love of your life leave for the second time. conchata brings you into her arms and embraces you deeply as you sob. the four walls of your little apartment conceal the heartbroken sound of your sobs and wails.

your life is changed once again by a unfortunate incident. however, this time hurt much more.

that same guilty, agitated expression never faltered as miguel geared up and sit in his seat of the helicopter. his clothes covered with tactical gear. bulletproof vest, tactical helmet with night vision goggles attached, another pair of goggles that are ballistic meant for eye protection, his pistol as a secondary weapon stored the holster strapped on his right thigh, and additional equipment. a rifle in his hands while waiting for takeoff.

the rest of the squad are strapped in. flash next to miguel, ben and kaine seated across from them. as the engine starts, flash notices miguel’s somber expression which causes him to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. miguel flinched at the contact but immediately recognizes his teammate.

“you’ll make it back to her, both of them.” the blonde gives his teammate’s shoulder a light pat.

miguel sighs heavily, lowering his head with a head shake. “i feel fucking terrible leaving her. leaving at the worst fucking time imaginable.”

the blonde frowns remorsefully. “i know man, i gave command shit but of course they don’t give a fuck. lets just hope this shit isn’t a long one and you’ll be back in time before your kid comes.”

the brunette simply nods. miguel really hopes he’ll be back in time before the baby is born so he can be there for you when the day comes. sitting by your side, holding your hand in his as you welcome your daughter into the world. a dream he wants to come true. he’ll do anything to make it come true.

“appreciate it, ironhead.”

flash pats his shoulder a once again. “always, man.”

the helicopter finally takes off and the men’s journey to south america begins. throughout the flight, miguel only thinks about you. never once you left his mind. he knows you’re struggling with his departure but his mother is there to care for you. he knows you’re safe and being taken care of. but the guilt still lingers in his heart. he would rather be at home with you than stuck on this damn helicopter. however, miguel will do whatever he can to come home to you.

he won’t disappear forever this time.

𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @reverieblondie @nina-from-317 @kavimoo @aly29a2001 @lazyjellyfish300 @tojishugetiddies @aphinthestars @novelaaaaaaaa @imamexican @obessgurlll @deputy-videogamer @lovehadlovelost @agoddoesnotplead @saintdiior @whoopwhoppghost @tomalymme @skadiloki @asterrrrose @glossygreene @youcantseem3 @resident-clown @kutsipie @zuevcs @totorotales-08 @meowgirl1 @sukunash0e @sirendyes @leahnicole1219 @lisa-takeshi @yehet-moi-ohorat @slowlyshycomputer @wasitforrevenge @webshoootrz @f1-hoff @chaeriescola @espressopatronum454 @trocaderoisyummy @totallygyomeiswife @mcmiracles @celestialgarden23 @tatatida @whdhjfjvjvjfjdhsj @nocturne-light @xenop0p @juneonhoth @ghostsdoll @marshmallowsforever @ibelyss @imissubaee @demonic-bird @fandomtrash5092 ( if you’re not tagged, age/age-range is require since this fic is 18+, context for reasons why )

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[imagineyourworld]

Captain America's Birthday

Joaquin Torres x Fem!Stark!Reader

Summary: When you're all alone at the party, Joaquin comes to your rescue

Warnings: Mention of parent death, mention of a drink being spiked, suggestive content

You should have known better than to accept Sam's invitation to his birthday party. It's not that you didn't like Sam, over the years he had become a good friend, he had helped you more than you could express after your father's death. Maybe that was the reason you accepted his invitation despite knowing you'd be out of place at the party.

Sam was an Avenger, but first and foremost he was a soldier, who of course invited other soldier to this party.

Sarah Wilson had opened the door when you first arrived and greeted you with a smile and a quick hug. "How are you doing, honey?"

You had opened your mouth to tell her that you were fine, that you liked your new job, saw your family more often now that you had moved back to New York, but before you could say any of that Sarah was called away by one of her sons. That was the last you saw of the only familiar face at the party other than Sam, who was surrounded by people he hadn't seen in ages.

That's how you found yourself alone in a corner, nursing the same drink you had picked up an hour ago, glued to your phone.

Bucky had promised he'd show up and he had yet to do so. You texted him nonstop, trying to get him to hurry up, but to no avail. You let your eyes wander the room, watching the people who all seemed to know each other. Most of them were friends Sam had met in the army, some politicians. Not your crowd. Despite growing up around a team of superheroes, you weren't one for crowds.

You looked down at your phone again. Still no reply from Bucky. You weren't mad at Sam for basically ignoring you except for a wave in your direction and a sympathetic smile every now and then, it was his birthday and he had to be a good host. Besides, there were people here he hadn't seen in ages, as well as those he had to suck up to due to his job.

"C'mon, Barnes," you mumbled to yourself, vowing that if he didn't show up in the next 30 minutes you'd leave. Sam would understand and Bucky could take your place in the corner if he ever did decide to make an appearance.

"Would you like a refill?" An unfamiliar voice interrupted your thoughts of murdering the ex-assassin.

You looked up from your (still black) phone screen to find a man roughly around your age standing in front of you. He was cute, dark hair becoming unruly from the heat in the apartment, kind dark eyes. You had seen him before, though you weren't quite sure where.

"You do realise that women are taught basically from birth never to accept drinks from strangers, right?" Though you meant it mostly as a joke, this was something you lived by ever since a boy had put something in your drink at a school dance when you were 14.

"I'm Joaquin," the man said, holding out his hand for you to shake. It took another moment but then you realised where you knew the man from.

"You're Joaquin Torres, Sam's friend."

He put his hand in his pocket once he realised you were not going to shake it and sat down on the ground next to you.

"The one and only." He leaned his head against the wall, turning to face you. "And you're Y/N Stark, Sam has told me all about you."

You looked at him, trying to figure out whether the things Sam had told him were good or bad. The two of you had the kind of relationship where it could go either way; either he had told Joaquin that you were smart and pretty and capable and pretty much the best human being in the entire world, or he said you were a monster. "All good things, don't worry." He paused for a moment. "Though nothing he said could live up to the real thing."

There was a certain earnestness around Joaquin that made it hard for you to tell whether he was flirting or just generally a very nice and polite person. And to be honest, you weren't sure whether you wanted to find out. This was the first actual conversation you had had in days. Sure, there were the occasional texts and Pepper had called earlier that day to ask how you were, but that had been a quick three minute call before she had to attend to some emergency.

"Has Sam told you anything about me?" There was a hint of vulnerability hidden behind the carefree smile on his face. This was a man who wanted to impress, not just you but the people he met in general.

"Not really, sorry." You couldn't lie to him, not when he looked at you like that. God, you wished you had lied because then the conversation would have continued instead of the awkward silence that now hung between you.

"Hey," he suddenly said. "Would you rather have three arms or two mouths?"

The question caught you off guard. Who was this man asking such random things?

"Three arms for sure. Imagine all the things you could accomplish." Joaquin crossed his (two) arms across his chest. "But what would you wear? You'd have to have all your clothes special made."

You shrugged. "Or I could just not wear a top."

He looked at you in shock, eyebrows raised almost up to his hairline. "You can't say things like that! It'll give people ideas."

The corners of your lips lifted in the tiniest of smirks. You leaned closer to him, just a little bit, but enough to be in his personal space. "Oh yeah? What kind of ideas?"

A shadow was cast over the two of you, stopping Joaquin from saying anything more.

You turned away from the man next to you to face whoever had interrupted you to give them a piece of your mind, but the words got stuck in your throat once you realised who it was.

"Bucky!" You exclaimed as you jumped up from your spot on the ground.

The super soldier gave you a tight hug and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "Hello, doll."

He took a step away from you to really look at you. One thing far too few people realised was that James Buchanan Barnes was secretly a fashionista who loved to dress up whenever he had the chance and wouldn't miss an opportunity to judge your outfit.

"You look great," he finally said after letting his eyes roam up and down your body.

"I know I do," you replied. You had spent more than enough time getting ready earlier this evening, making sure you looked near perfect for Sam's big birthday party.

"And I see you're talking to Torres." Bucky looked between the two of you, a glint of mischief in his eyes. For the past couple of months he had made it his personal mission to set you up with basically any living, breathing person he came across and finding you next to Joaquin must have delighted him.

"Sergeant," Joaquin was quick to reply as he got up as well. He held out his hand for the other man to shake, who did so using more pressure than necessary if Joaquin's expression was anything to go by.

"How long have you two known each other?"

You rolled your eyes at Bucky's question. This was neither the time nor the place to set you up with anyone.

"We only just met," Joaquin replied. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea the two of you were together." The tiniest hint of a blush crept up his cheeks. So he had been flirting with you, only now he thought you were dating one of your closets friends, the man who had become something like a brother.

"We're not together," you quickly said, wanting to get rid of any misunderstandings as quick as possible.

You avoided Bucky's gaze, knowing that he was looking between you and Joaquin, trying to figure out what was going on.

"I'm not interrupting something, am I?"

You were quick to shake your head. "You're not." If anything you were glad Bucky had shown up. In the few minutes you had spent talking to Joaquin, you had begun to like him, which was not something that was int he cards for you right now.

"Are you sure?" Bucky asked once more, this time looking straight at the other man.

You followed his gaze, looking at Joaquin as well. Did you want him to say that Bucky was interrupting something? Did you want him to be flirting with you? It's not like you were looking for anything serious, but he was cute and nice and you'd be lying if you said that you couldn't see yourself ending up in his bed tonight.

"No, Sergeant Barnes, you're not interrupting anything, sir." Joaquin's eyes moved from Bucky to you and you felt a hot shiver running down your spine due to the intensity of his gaze. "I simply wanted to get the know Y/N after I've heard so much about her."

Bucky nodded. There was a tiny smirk on his face, an expression you had become somewhat familiar with whenever he was joking around with Steve and which, ever since Steve had gone back in time, he sometimes wore around Sam.

"And what's your verdict so far?"

You were quick to place a hand on Joaquin's arm. You could feel the warmth of his skin and his hard muscles through the thin shirt but did your best to ignore it, not to imagine those arms wrapped around you in all sorts of different scenarios and positions. "You don't have to answer that."

But he just ignored you, as if he hadn't heard you, as if you hand on his arm didn't bother him in the slightest. He looked straight at Bucky as he talked.

"She seems like a smart and accomplished young woman." Joaquin now finally turned to look at you. "And I look forwards to getting to know her better."

You felt warmth rising to your cheeks. He really was the cutest man you had met in a long time.

If it weren't for the fact that this was Sam's birthday party (and that you wanted to make a good impression on Joaquin) you would have punched that shit-eating grin out of Bucky's face. You knew he could read you like an open book and that it was impossible to hide your thoughts regarding Joaquin from Bucky.

"I better leave you to it then," he said, throwing another grin your way before he turned around, leaving the two of you alone in the crowd.

"I'm sorry about him," you said as soon as he was out of earshot. Joaquin shook his head. You could have sworn you saw a hint of colour rising to his cheeks as he scratched the back of his head. "Don't be," he said. "You're cute when you're flustered."

You took a step closer to him, your confidence amped up by his statement. "You think I'm cute?"

It seemed like your reaction pushed him, made him realise that there was no need to be nervous. He nodded.

"Is that all I am?" It was a bold move but there was just something about Joaquin that made you want to tease him, while it was nice to be called cute, you wanted him to call you all sorts of other things as well. Things you knew you'd have to work hard for him to say at Captain America's birthday party.

"You're funny as well," Joaquin said. "Clever. Beautiful."

You took another step closer and leaned forward even closer until you were in his personal space. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, smell his intoxicating cologne and the tiniest hint of his natural scent underneath. It made you long to run your tongue along his skin, to touch, to feel, to taste.

"Anything else?"

Joaquin visibly swallowed. "Way out of my league."

You shook your head and looked him straight in the eyes. "I don't think so." And you moved even closer, impossibly closer. Your chest almost touched, making your nipples harden from anticipation. "I think we'd make perfect sense together."

Joaquin's eyes drifted to your lips for a split second. He wasn't able to hide how much he wanted you, you could see it in his eyes, read it in his body language.

"Your dad would rise from his grave if I dared to touch you," he tried to protest. But you were having none of it. You placed a hand on his chest, feeling not only the hard muscles but also the rapid beating of his heart.

"C'mon, Falcon, are you really scared of the man who sacrificed himself to save the world?"      

Though you wouldn't admit it, you knew Joaquin had a point. Not that your dad would come back to haunt him but back in the day he had always been incredibly protective of you. The first time you brought a boy home, he had interrogated him for close to an hour. Interns were never allowed close to you, though you did recall one brown haired boy who had become your friend over time.

"No," he finally said. "But there are other people who'd rip my head off if they knew what I was thinking about right now." His voice was low as he spoke close to your ear.

You knew he was probably talking about Bucky, could practically feel the super soldier's stare on your back, but that didn't stop you from rising to your tiptoes until your lips almost touched Joaquin's. "Maybe we should continue this conversation elsewhere," you whispered in what you hoped was your most seductive voice. It seemed to work because Joaquin wetted his lips with his tongue, making you want to taste those lips yourself. It had been ages since you last found yourself attracted to someone the way you were now attracted to Joaquin and the fact that he took things as slow as he did drove you crazy.

"Let me say goodbye to Sam, it'd be rude to just leave." You ran your hand up and down his chest, lower and lower with each trip. He wanted you, you could tell as much from your reaction. "Or you could text him from the car," you suggested. Joaquin thought about it for a while but he finally nodded. "Alright, hermosa, let's get out of here." 

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

I might write a part two if I have time and you guys would want to read it

[pickleslikesducks]

Headcanon that Dick absolutely *hates* sleeping alone.

After being adopted by Bruce, he would usually sleep curled up next to Bruce bc of nightmares, but he never, like, actually outgrew the habit..?

Even when he isn't living at the manor, he hates sleeping alone. Like, weather it's in the teen titans universe or the young justice universe, he'd always be sleeping next to someone.

With the titans,

He and Raven comforting each other after nightmares (I heavily headcanon them being siblings)

Crawling into Kori's bed when it's cold bc she runs like, 102° F on average??

Falling asleep on the couch with Vic while playing video games

Gar turning into some kind of animal and sleeping at the foot of Dick's bed

Or with the YJ team,

Building pillow forts with Wally, both at the Team's headquarters and at each other's houses

Letting Artemis vent to him about her family, or just letting her cry herself to sleep in his arms when she needs it (especially after Wally's death. I think these two would have been having Sad Sleepovers for *months* after Wally's death)

Passing out on the couch while watching horrible sitcoms with M'gann

Staying up too late learning Atlantean with Kaldur, and falling asleep at the table, and waking up curled in Kaldur's arms, because Kaldur is never hesitant or stingy with physical affection

Sitting in pure silence with Conner, neither of them acknowledging the other but still desiring the other's presence, sleeping back to back

With his family, 

Carrying Tim to bed when he stays up too late on a case and then settling in beside him after Tim protests when he tried to leave

Breaking into Jason's apartment and just sitting, listening to his little brother's breathing

Having a spare room in his apartment for Damian, but ending up with his youngest brother asleep in his arms on the couch after making the kid watch classic childhood movies like Shrek and Robin Hood 

Crashing on the couch with Steph after a late patrol, and smiling fondly at her loud snoring

Keeping Babs company when she doesn't want to be alone (because she needs someone to give her a reality check and remind her that Joker isn't waiting outside the door)

cass crawling into his bed without warning or reason, just sitting and watching him (the first time it happened, he screamed and nearly pissed himself. It spooked Cass and she left. It was several months before it happened again, but Dick had had a really shitty day and an even worse patrol, and Cass' quiet vigilance was oddly soothing. After a few more times, Dick realized she did it to everyone, in a cycle, as a protective gesture. She could analyze people so clearly, even in their sleep, so she would watch her siblings sleep to make sure they were alright)

Helping Duke study, but they don't actually end up studying, they just spend hours bouncing bad puns off each other, and suddenly it's 2 AM and they just decide to call it and head to bed

Still crawling into Bruce's bed every so often, after a particularly bad nightmare, or a rough patrol, and especially after Jason died

[acourtofquietdreamers]

I will never understand antis putting so much emphasis on “Gwynriel banter” (it barely exists btw) when Az banters with pretty much everyone??

Feyre, Cassian, Nesta, Rhys, the list goes on and it never means that person is his endgame. Banter is not special. It’s not rare. The IC is a bantering bunch. SJM writes it in some form with most relationships, romantic or platonic. But you know what is special?

Azriel letting Elain borrow Truth Teller.

Azriel declaring “I’m getting her back” even if doing so could lead to his death.

Elain calling Az’s scars beautiful.

Azriel’s eyes being brighter and laugh more joyous than Feyre has ever seen/heard because of Elain’s gift.

Az staying up past 3am to talk to Elain about her passion.

Azriel reaching out a hand and going to the garden with Elain again and again to spend time with her.

Azriel making everyone wait until Elain is seated to eat.

Azriel avoiding family dinners because his feelings for Elain are so strong, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to resist her if he’s near her.

Azriel spending a year looking at Elain’s gift to him on his beside table.

Az being willing to beg on his knees for a chance to taste Elain.

Azriel uttering the words “What if the Cauldron was wrong?” when he spoke of the Cauldron with reverence in HOFAS. His feelings for Elain are that powerful.

I guarentee Elain and Azriel will banter in their book because that is just how SJM writes, but if the arguement is that we must see the bantering in books prior, could someone please point me to the Elucien banter? You can’t because it doesn’t exist.

[vi-gilante-1010]

The big thing about the ending of Arcane is that it tries so hard to be a hopeful ending and a tragic ending at the same time, and they end up canceling each other out to create the most stagnated and frustrating ending instead, because none of it feels genuinely earned.

On the one hand, the audience is expected to think Caitvi being together again at this point is a good thing, and we get that vague implication of Jinx being alive, and the briefest glimpse of Sevika at the table. All that is very much trying to convey some semblance of hope for the future, that change is slow but that things are moving forward. The thing is, every part of this presentation at the end falls flat because of the lack of satisfying build here.

The Caitvi reconciliation is rushed, Caitlyn's redemption even moreso, and the actual weight of her actions has gone ignored by the narrative in favor of servicing a happy ending for the writers' pet. Vi's so-called "happy ending" being her declaring herself dirt in her lover's nails is oddly self-deprecating for what's meant to be an ending in her putting herself and her happiness first.

Sevika not so much as getting a speaking role in act 3 severely diminishes any impact her character may have had here, and she's still very obviously outnumbered among the council. She doesn't get to speak to Jinx. She doesn't get to reconcile with Vi. She doesn't even get a diplomatic word in. For all intents and purposes, she's become the council's diversity hire, because the council operates on majority vote, and Sevika isn't a diplomat. Who's to say she won't be spoken over and voted against at every turn?

The hints to Jinx being alive being subtle but shown are, in and of themselves, not the problem. The problem is just how much time is spent with her character in s2 glorifying the idea of her killing herself. Suicidal ideation within a mentally ill character isn't shocking, but it is something that shouldn't be overtly glorified within the text, and Jinx's decision to fake her death immediately following an actual suicide attempt and every chance that she could actually die, without the audience actually seeing Jinx for herself post-escape, leads to the worst possible depiction of a martyr- one who wanted to kill herself, and is celebrated for doing so. Show-don't-tell isn't useful when you do it for every major arc, and it makes Jinx's escape cheapen because, for all intents and purposes, she did kill herself. She killed Powder and Jinx, and while, yes, it was to break the cycle and free herself from identities prescribed by others, it's done in a way that's seriously damaging for real people who struggle with the same ideation.

Then, on the backhand, we have the tragedy part of the ending. Mel having to return to Noxus, Jayvik dying in the Arcane, and Ekko being left alone in Zaun. All of this is adequately tragic, yes, but it's also deeply unsatisfying, and also kind of racist.

Mel's character as a clever politician and manipulator being tossed aside in favor of a setup for the Black Rose setup is already disappointing as-is, but she loses everyone. Literally everyone. That mattered to her. Ambessa succeeds in forcing her hand to violence, and then dies. Her brother is dangled in front of her face, and then taken away. Jayce goes missing, comes back jaded to her, and then dies with Viktor and leaves her alone. She's forced to become 'the wolf', shifting her story into one of brute-force power, and makes her become the strong one that survives everything and the one to take down Ambessa with power. Gone are the days of diplomatic power struggles and investigation. No, she must embrace her inner warrior goddess power to be effective here.

Similarly, Ekko loses everyone. He'd already lost most of his family, and led the Firelights out of necessity for the people of Zaun because of how quickly he was forced to grow up. But now, Vi, who returned to him after years, lives in Piltover with her cop girlfriend, and the two don't interact once in the entire season. It's like their entire friendship was forgotten. He loses Heimerdinger to the alternate timeline, who, like Jinx, appears to die, but as an immortal being, is actually just reforming in that timeline again. He's abandoned by his supposed mentor because he didn't feel like going back to the timeline he'd failed to help despite his age and supposed responsibility, leaving Ekko to be the responsible one. And of course, Ekko also loses Powder and Jinx again, being sent into an alternate timeline just to be teased about what could've been with Powder, wrench himself back to reality and save Jinx, only for her to supposedly die succeeding in blowing herself up anyways. He's the only important character from Zaun that stays in Zaun, and he has to bear the burden of taking care of Zaun alone because, as stated previously, Sevika is now on the council and has to operate through the council.

Both of the leading black characters are forced to bear the responsibility of constant perseverance and survival, looking over the rest of the cast and getting things done but losing everything and everyone they love. It's Mel and Ekko who must bear the cross of parentification, being denied their safe places or loved ones in service of being the Strong Ones. In season 1, this was a role that Vi once played back when the show still cared about her, being the older sister that couldn't be the role model she needed to be no matter how hard she tried, while Mel had her diplomatic strengths and wasn't expected to bear the brunt of war against Noxus, and that felt more natural, because Ekko's responsibilities in the face of Silco's Zaun felt like an actual critique of the parentification of young black people in marginalized communities. Season 2 takes that and makes it unironic. No, Ekko is just strong like that, but it's so tragic. Look, we're gonna build an entire timeline about it. No, Mel must be Strong Badass Woman With Powerful Magic Power. Uhh, the show's called Arcane, she has to have magic, right? Can't have a main character with no big fat weapon, so let's take that protective golden shield she can make and make her have Secret Wolf Powers.

Jayce and Viktor's entire story for the second season sucks. Jayce had so much setup as a political figure, and was completely primed to be taken advantage of by Ambessa after the first season. His almost losing Viktor to Jinx's attack should've made him angrier to ever before. Instead, he just quits his councilman position offscreen and becomes the one to discover that the arcane is actually just inherently evil. Oopsies! His and Viktor's life's work has been degraded into doomed to fail territory. No good intentions would've ever saved any part of their work, and the arcane itself is now the villain, rather than Piltover's greed and the desire to weaponize it and exert control over others. No, this is just an inherent part of the worldbuilding, like any good eeeeeeevil magic that's evil because the author needs it to be.

Viktor, meanwhile, is punished for becoming a eugenicist, despite the fact his so-called 'eugenics' from the first season was him wanting to not slowly die. He was hacking up blood on the hexcore! But searching for a way to cure the sick and eugenics got conflated in season 2, so his becoming a jesus figure that healed the sick and injured and addicted had to be villainized to match his LoL persona somehow. So everyone he turned became servants he could puppet at will, and became a eugenics metaphor, playing on a self-hatred that Viktor did have, but bastardized it with 'ooooo eeeevil arcaaaaane' and absolves Viktor himself of any responsibility for it. When Jayce does reach him, it's a speech about imperfections, even though the reason Viktor began in the first place was because he was DYING, and the reason he continued was because he got infected with the Arcane instead of his own complex urging him forward after a near-death experience.

There's no hope in the ending, because anything meant to illicit hope has a bad buildup, or no buildup at all. The tragedy of the ending feels unearned because it ignores who the characters were in the first season outright; it's not a matter of them having just changed after their arcs in season 1. They're just unrecognizable, and/or poorly utilized. It's a bad ending to a shitty sequel season that only makes you feel frustrated for having watched it in the first place.

[butterflydm]

WoT rewatch thoughts (1x5-1x08)

Still has spoilers through the s3 information that we have so far and book spoilers through a memory of light.

1x05

Both beginning and ending this episode on funeral rituals worked so well. Great structure.

Time skip for traveling! Mark a month off on the calender.

We can really see how Mat has deteriorated in the last month by the way he snaps at the kid who runs into him.

Love the shot of Dragonmount looming behind Tar Valon. They exist always with that reminder of what the Dragon did.

Mat has no appetite. Poor sad wet cat.

The betrayal of there being Two Beds in this inn room, lol. Why are we not respecting the classic fic tropes?

Rand reassuring Mat that he didn't kill that little girl or her family. Rand believing so hard in Mat's goodness maybe partly because he can see that Mat is having a difficult time seeing it in himself.

Even with Nynaeve's coat off, she's still half Green and half Yellow.

Moiraine trying so hard to mentor Nynaeve and she Does Not Want It.

Man, Perrin and Egwene had a much more cheerful journey than either of the other sets. But they get plenty of trauma right now, so they don't need to be jealous.

Once again, the show does such a good job showing us the strength in the Tuatha'an. And this thread will continue into Perrin's storyline in s3, with both Whitecloaks & Tuatha'an. They've done a solid job of tying Perrin to them both.

Loial shows up and immediately calls Rand an Aielman, lol. Poor Rand!

Oh, I see you, Fain!

Oof, people throwing food at Logain and mocking him. Baffled at the people who say the downsides of being a man who can channel weren't shown.

The promise scene between Mat & Rand is so good. Ultimate sad wet cat Mat. I really do love everything about this scene.

I really like our exploration of Stepin's utter and compete grief and emptiness after Kerene's death. How much the other Warders try to help him, how Nynaeve tries to help him but it isn't enough.

Love love what they did with the old rings being melted down (to create new).

Between what happens with the Whitecloaks here and then the Seanchan in s2, Egwene reacting by being as fiercely independent as possible makes all the sense in the world.

The Whitecloaks and Tower novices both wearing all white seems like it might create some emotional dissonance for Egwene, but I understand why the show didn't go there. That's just down to Jordan making too many groups of people wear white.

Oof, the Whitecloak stuff with Egwene & Perrin is hard to watch.

But our first hint of Perrin's golden eyes.

I note how Valda feels about all channelers similarly to how Liandrin feels about male channelers. And then we can get into the Seanchan's dehumanization of channelers as well.

Liandrin trying to bond more with Nynaeve. Has she been having ta'veren dreams? Ishy has had a month to try to figure out at least some of the places where his potential ta'veren have gone.

Our first reunion! It's always such a relief when any of them get to reunite. Man, Mat really does look on the verge of death.

Nynaeve can now join Rand & Mat in the Not Trusting Aes Sedai or Moiraine squad. Oops.

She tells Rand a story about Egwene to reassure him of Egwene's strength, never realizing that it's also the moment when Nynaeve likely channeled for the first time (to heal Egwene).

Perrin shares his deepest shame and secret with Egwene here - that he killed Laila by accident during the battle. So Perrin & Egwene's journey ends up being also very traumatic but the trauma was concentrated into the last day or so of the journey.

And just like was hinted at with the fire, Egwene & Perrin are finding their power at the same time. I wonder if this will happen again with their TAR training in s3? I really hope they run across each other in TAR. Let the characters stay connected!

Liandrin definitely got shot down by Moiraine at some time in the past.

Love the whole "shrine to ward off the Forsaken" thing. Great touch.

Siuan has been off in Caemlyn - was she talking to Elaida about Elayne, or was it about politics?

Moiraine: the White Tower's Woman of Mystery. Everyone wants to know what she's up to!

Alanna got such a glow-up in the show compared to the books. She's great here.

We get another nod to accepted poly relationships (amid the Green Ajah, at least).

Great conversation between Stepin & Lan. And a heartbreaking conclusion to Stepin's little mini-arc of grief and the Warder bond.

1x06

Little baby Siuan! ❤️ ❤️

Our first look at Tear as well.

Such a great way to introduce Siuan, considering they wouldn't have her for more than one episode this season.

And we learn in some places that it's dangerous for a woman to learn to channel - it's not only the Whitecloaks who assume that everyone who can channel is a Darkfriend.

Given that we know now (as of s2) that Moiraine & Siuan are older here than in the books, I wonder if that means her dad has already passed on.

Much like Egwene, Siuan is strongly associated with the water.

(This scene made me tear up too. I've cried three or four times today, I think)

Leane wearing light colors here vs the darker colors she wore in the s3 sneak peek to bash a Darkfriend's head in.

Another scene that gains so much depth on rewatch- knowing about Moiraine & Siuan's relationship & knowing about Liandrin being Black Ajah.

We just saw Stepin choose death in the previous emptiness of losing his bond, now Logain seeks and is refused death while suffering the emptiness of losing his connection to the One Power.

Everyone does still look good here, but the costumes definitely got a glow-up in s2 & again in s3.

The only main player in this scene not playing an elaborate game is Alanna. Siuan and Moiraine are pretending not to be in cahoots, Liandrin is pretending not to be Black Ajah - Liandrin trying to fracture the divides between the Ajahs, and also throwing Moiraine under the bus. A lot of Daes Dae'mar going on.

I also feel obligated to note that around this time frame is the jumping off point of my (now over 500k!) fic series: voice in the back of my head (archiveofourown.org/series/2688649). It is Cauthor-focused (Mat & Rand romance), though it does bring in the canon romances for Rand later on and we have some fun poly relationships going on, and it is currently spoiling through the twelfth book, but each fic in the series says how far that particular fic goes with regards to spoilers. The fic premise is: Liandrin found Rand & co instead of Moiraine finding them, and Rand is motivated enough to instinctively Travel himself, Mat, and Nynaeve to Tear because he wants to escape her.

This fic has been a lot of work and I am pretty proud of it so if you feel at all inclined to read an AU of the series that starts with the idea of "what if we gently slid Mat into Rand's romance situation?" and is a mix of show and book canon... give it a try. If you like it, please let me know your thoughts. <3

Anyway, Moiraine be spying on Rand & co., waiting for Nynaeve & Loial to leave to go talk to Rand & Mat.

Rand's protectiveness over Mat on this scene is really what threw my shipping switches on for them. He pulls a sword on Lan, despite knowing he had no chance against him!

"The world doesn't need a Dragon like me."

But Moiraine has figured out this is something else, not going mad from saidin, and Mat gets healed of the dagger's sickness.

So... was Rand using the One Power to help keep Mat from succumbing to the dagger's pull? Moiraine thinks that Mat shouldn't have been able to resist as long as he did.

We get some Tower politics, and we get the first hints of the Seanchan.

Moiraine is just encountering so much weirdness with these kids. Now there are wolves, she must be thinking to herself. Wolves!

The romance reveal scene! I like this change for several reasons- it's better romance than either gets in the books, it follows naturally from the NS relationship setup, and it adds drama for Moiraine, who did get a bump from mentor figure to being a protagonist.

It also gives the show a chance to show softer and warmer sides to both Moiraine & Siuan. Plus the nice play between duty & love bodes well for other romances.

I love how they reunite and only afterwards does Moiraine let Siuan know about the Dragon. Priorities!

And it makes so much sense that Moiraine has been doubting their prophecies after all this time on the road, while Siuan hasn't been out there with disappointment after disappointment.

This conversation also (unintentionally, given that it was a last-minute change) sets up Moiraine deciding she'd rather have the Reds potentially gentle the Dragon than risk Mat choosing to join the Shadow, because she thinks he's not strong enough to resist.

Ishy deliberately sent Siuan that dream. 😭

Liandrin knows too much. She definitely has been getting Ishy dreams.

Another reunion!

And the convo with Siuan is great. Nynaeve not bowing still cracks me up. Egwene going "wtf, nynaeve can channel? and she's stronger than I am?" with just her face is also hilarious.

Egwene & Nynaeve get a much kinder pep talk from Siuan than poor Rand gets in s2.

Moiraine's exiling is another great, emotional scene. And it also teaches us more about how the Oath Rod works, and sets some reasons in place for the Hall to be wary of Siuan. And sets up some precedents for the future.

And Moiraine trusting and giving more to Siuan than she was asked to give in the Oath - not just exile but obedience. That's gonna hurt a lot when we get to s2.

Even though she literally asked for it, it's obvious how hard it is on Moiraine to see her Sisters turn their backs on her.

But now we do (briefly) get our full Two Rivers reunion, and that is lovely. Hugs all around! Fond teasing! They love each other!

So we know that it wasn't actually the Dark One who was trapped at the Eye, so... it sounds like the knowledge of the location of the Dark One's prison is lost to time. It does make sense that Darkfriends would target that info specifically.

Moiraine not able to tell them that she trusts them, due to her Oaths, is a. so funny and b. makes it mean so much in s2 when she is willing and able to say that she trusts Rand (this is the real reason why it's difficult for me to get on board with The Ruse (TM) theory - because it feels like it would retroactively ruin that 2x07 moment between Moiraine & Rand).

Now that he's pretty sure Mat can't channel and isn't the Dragon, Rand knows deep down who it really is.

But then we lose Barney-Mat at the Waygate and I'm sad!

You can tell this very last scene was shot after the post-covid shutdown, because Maddy (Egwene) lost some roundness in her cheeks during those in-between months and it makes her eyes look a lot bigger.

I adore Donál's Mat but also miss Barney's. The feelings are both very present.

1x07

The Blood Snow! So epic. I love everything about this scene.

I will say, given that we have a stabbed pregnant Tigraine in the side here and it looks like we're getting a flashback to pregnant Morgase in s3, it does feel fairly likely that we will get pregnant Elayne as well, later on in the series. Tigraine gets stabbed the same way that Elayne is described as being stabbed in one of the super-late books (can't remember which, so I'll tag through AMoL) iirc.

Tigraine really did give every ounce of herself to her destiny, and I'm so glad the show version of her got a moment of kindness and compassion at the end.

Moiraine's cynicism about Mat vs Rand's rose-colored glasses about Mat: fight!

Nynaeve doing her job as Wisdom to keep all the kiddos together and make a promise to find Mat later.

"The one thing that we cannot afford is for the Dragon to turn to the Shadow."

Lan trying to cheer Nynaeve up is very sweet.

Egwene wants to sleep near Rand and he lets her this time (contrast to 1x02, when he pushed her away).

I like negging Machin Shin better than the version in the books, I admit it. It's more personal! Just relentlessly dunking on everyone's deepest fears.

Everyone looks so haunted. Poor kiddos.

I don't understand the people who don't understand the big fight. Everyone is so on edge from what they just went through! They are all overly emotional and vulnerable right now. The fight could have been MUCH uglier and still been valid tbh.

Uno! Congrats on your s2 upgrade to Hero of the Horn!

Another confession: I find this Lord Agelmar & Lady Amalisa much more interesting and memorable than the ones in the books. And I was kinda relieved that the show took the whole Five Great Captains thing off the table right away.

I also love their outfits.

Oh, hi, Fain! I suspect we'll get to see more of him in s3.

Min is so much better in the show than the books, omg. Just... on every level. She actually is jaded and world-weary.

"There is a man they must find. A boy, really."

Given that we saw Mat visibly recoil at hearing the Red Ajah mentioned in that s3 clip, I wonder if we're going to see him & Moiraine actually talk about it. I mean, it's in character for both of them to avoid that particular convo, so we will see!

Egwene's little quip at Rand's cooking is cute but I bet contributes to that feeling of Rand's that she doesn't see him as a man but as a boy.

I like how Min's visions were used here. And that she does what Moiraine blackmailed her into but holds back enough to protect what she knows would be the biggest secret (that Rand is the Dragon) because she doesn't feel like it's hers to reveal.

I really love how the shot with the three kids is framed to show the empty chair at the back to emphasis Mat's absence.

Anyway, I like the fight. Characters should be allowed to be messy and argue. Each of them has a perspective and is stubborn about that PoV.

Egwene is right that Moiraine can't lie, but the others are right that she can mislead or withhold.

And I love that the tipping point for the actual fight is Mat & his absence.

And then Nynaeve lobbing a bomb into the conversation as soon as it gets heated enough that she's getting uncomfortable. I mean, they aren't arguing about Mat anymore, at least?

Perrin's super-close "the only woman I've ever loved is my wife" and the hot five seconds that I shipped Perrin & Rand (but then Mat was mentioned in Rand's 1x08 fantasy world and I was right back to Cauthor lol).

I like that Lan had Malkieri friends alive in Fal Dara & I'm pretty stoked about the s3 Melindhra spoilers as well. Very cool to dive more into those relationships than we did in the books. Nynaeve getting an introduction to Lan's people & culture! After he got to know hers in 1x01! Very nice.

Jump-scare Lan does crack me up.

Anyway, good for Nynaeve and Lan for hooking up when they think there's a chance they might die in the morning.

Rand struggles with coming to terms with being the Dragon but Egwene thinks this is all about the big fight earlier. So they are having two different conversations right now.

Hey, in light of this convo- Rand is going to go to, well, Tar Valon anyway. Maybe not the White Tower itself. We'll see if he gets a doorway visit or not.

But this is Rand's big final burst of denial before he goes and talks to Min, confirming to himself that he's the Dragon, as he's tried not to believe that he is. So we've now had two instances of Randgwene sex used to delay or avoid an important conversation.

I am... very curious if the pattern continues in s3. Pretty sure they'll sleep together again, from what we've gotten in the trailers & such, but I am curious about the framing & context.

This montage of Rand accepting the truth about himself gives me chills.

Min's exhaustion here makes her so relatable.

I am so glad Tigraine had someone to hold her hand at the end. That she saw that her son would be taken care of.

"Rainbows and carnivals and three beautiful women." 😍

Elayne only three episodes away (2x02, right?), and Aviendha a little bit after that, but they are on their way! And this is our first hint about them.

1x08

3000 years ago, whoo!

Love their outfits.

Love the choice to have the AoL scenes in the Old Tongue.

LTT is perfect. Genuinely so good.

And the gut punch of seeing how technologically advanced the world used to be. It was a magitek utopia (or at least seemed that way to them).

I do wish that Rafe & co could have brought their original vision of this episode to life, because it is so devastating to go over all the things they lost (a principal actor! Their original Blight location! Their stunt team! Even more that I can't recall at the moment too I bet) but they did so much with what they had. I am so fucking impressed.

"I love him, Perrin." And then she thinks he died to save all of them. Yeah they do need to finish things off properly in the show.

Lan 100% thinks that going after Moiraine right now means his death, hence the sweet but flowery speech to Nynaeve here.

Ishy and Rand come face to face. I wonder who Ishy thought the Dragon was (he says he didn't expect it to be Rand). I love the reveal of Ishy's true face. And trying to touch Rand's face right away lol.

"Stubborn as ever, Lews."

The convo between Moiraine & Rand is interesting (all of them are) but partly because Moiraine doesn't actually say that she believed it was Egwene. I think she hoped it was Egwene but that's not quite the same. And Rand doesn't ever really think it was Egwene either, except maybe at the start, because we know he was worried it was Mat during that month of them journeying together.

Hey, the horrible bully from Moiraine's story! We're gonna meet her in s3. Because that story is about Elaida. She beat a novice with the One Power to force her to channel.

Min is very amusing in the show. I like her a lot. I really like that we get to go on an emotional journey along with Min about the downsides of having her viewings in s2, instead of it all happening before we show up in her life.

Again, really like the relationship between the siblings here - Lord Agelmar & Lady Amalisa. It's sweet.

"Let us hope we will buy the women and men of this world enough time to stand a fighting chance."

Rand recognizes the place where he locked Ishy up years ago. Love that we get to see that moment in s2.

Moiraine talking about the Tower's histories getting destroyed by Darkfriends. Very important note, I feel.

And Ishy springs his win-win trap. There was no actual way for Rand to win here, because he didn't know who he was fighting.

I've mentioned this before but I love that the show split up the battle into philosophical (Rand) vs physical (everyone else) because that's the Last Battle too. Rand's fight is a philosophical one and it always was. The Power is there to get him to where he needs to be to make that choice.

Our mention of Mat in Rand's temptation world, where Egwene is clearly being fondly exasperated but not truly annoyed. So, you know, like how Rand feels about Mat.

Ishy plays with his food, taunting and shielding Moiraine.

Perrin and Loial's friendship being a throughline for all three seasons, getting to know each other here, spending more time together in s2, and Loial going home with him in s3.

Rand struggling against a hollow perfect reality. Major, major foreshadowing for the endgame so I'm glad I already listed amol spoilers.

And Rand also needs to forcibly let go of Egwene and his dream of their life together in order to wake up from his encounter with Ishamael, something that Egwene doesn't get the opportunity to do, because the boyfriend she recently reunited with heroically died in order to save the world (to her understanding). So Rand and Egwene go into s2 (and presumably s3) with very different contexts about where their relationship left off.

You know, in retrospect, it's so appropriate that the Horn was being guarded by one of the Heroes.

Ishy is so smug here because he really does win no matter what. Tbh I feel like waking up Lanfear was his big mistake in s2. Because her agenda is different enough from his that they ended up conflicting, even though they share an LTT obsession.

That being said, even though this is a win-win for Ishy, what Rand learns here can/will help him win the Last Battle. So it works out in the long run.

Rand & Moiraine believe that the Last Battle is won, so she's willing to let him wander off to die in the wilderness if he wants... and then she kicks herself forever when she realizes how wrong she was. Like, it's Moiraine & Siuan's plan that fully releases Ishy. They thought they could do an endrun around the prophecies (which Moiraine has to be fully aware that Rand has not accomplished!).

As Moiraine might say "the arrogance".

Love the setup here at the end by Fain.

"Rand may be the Dragon but all five of you have a part to play."

And Moiraine. "This wasn't the Last Battle. I fear it was the first."

And our great intro to the Seanchan and how wildly different they are to anything we've already seen.

Tomorrow, I'll start rewatching s2 and see how far I get!

[homuraakemis]

Honestly, every single one of Jinx's accusations against Vi is so hypocritical:

1) "I thought, maybe you could love me like you used to, even though I'm different".

She accuses Vi of not loving/accepting her as she is. This is already an absurd expectation, because first, Vi has no obligation to "accept her as she is" when she is doing all the horrible things that she does, and second, Vi actually does love her despite all her mistakes, it's Jinx herself who refuses Vi's offer to leave and start anew.

But it's also a completely hypocritical accusation: she wants Vi to accept her as she is, but she doesn't accept Vi as she is. Vi is a person who is not willing to murder innocents and also someone who cares about Caitlyn. But Jinx doesn't accept that about her sister. She wants Vi to change for her, she wants Vi to become a murderer and kill Caitlyn to prove her love for her, and when Vi refuses, she rejects Vi. So Jinx herself doesn't accept Vi as she is.

2) "Poisoning our air"

This is incredibly hypocritical coming from a person who spent years helping to poison the people of Zaun with shimmer, a drug that devastated Zaun. Vi and Caitlyn's use of the Grey at least was targeted against the chem-barons (the very people that were poisoning Zaun with Shimmer and that Jinx spent years helping), and the Grey is also not shown to be lethal. Silco spreading shimmer, on the other hand, was not targeted. He didn't sell shimmer in a controlled manner for its healing properties, he sold it in a widespread manner, getting people addicted, debilitated, and turning them into monsters that attack other people. And Jinx helped Silco do it. What she did is much worse than what Vi did, but apparently it's ok for Jinx to poison her own people.** (And that's not even mentioning all the other bad things against Zaun that Jinx helped happen by working with Silco, like the child slave labor, the killing of the Firelights and all other of Silco's crimes)

3) "Wish I was seeing things when you decided to throw in with the Piltie goons who murdered mom and dad"

Again, so hypocritical. Yes, Vi joined the enforcers. But she joined a team with an enforcer that she trusted (Caitlyn), and she didn't join anyone directly responsible for their parent's deaths. Jinx, on the other hand, actually joined the man directly responsible for the deaths of their adoptive family.** Not to mention that Jinx's actions are the main reason Vi joined the enforcers in the first place.

**By the way, I know that Jinx was a kid when she was taken in by Silco. But as an adult, we never see Jinx express remorse for working with him. On the contrary, we see her grieve him, smell his jacket and only ever think fondly of him, never criticizing him for his role in destroying Zaun. And while she was a kid when she was taken in, she continues helping him as an adult, she continues doing it even after Vi comes back and tries to help her, and it's also implied that Ekko tried to help her in the past and she refused (or if he didn't try, she still could have tried to ask for his help, she had somewhere else to go other than staying with Silco). She could have left Silco as an adult but didn't. As Ekko said, she works for Silco not because she needs to, but because she wants to, and she constantly seeks Silco's validation. So while I can understand that Jinx was a vulnerable kid that was manipulated by Silco, I still think that if she's going to make these accusations against Vi without ever self-reflecting about her own role in helping Silco oppress Zaun, then it's fair to call out her hypocrisy.

4) "Wake up, sis. I'm a hero. I busted half of Zaun out of Stillwater while you were passed out in the bottom of a mug."

First of all, it's incredibly insensitive for her to throw Stillwater in Vi's face, considering that she knows Vi spent 7 years there, and it's really cruel to mock Vi for being "passed out in the bottom of a mug" considering that part of the reason Vi has been spiraling and drinking were Jinx's own actions. Jinx is part of the reason why Vi has been getting wasted like this.

But it's also hypocritical, because she is accusing Vi of doing nothing while Zaun is suffering, even though Jinx herself was also doing nothing. She was hiding with Isha and would not have helped anyone if Isha hadn't been taken. Not to mention that her own terrorist attacks are the very reason Zaun is being occupied, and Vi helped Zaun way more than Jinx ever did.

(Tbh, I find it frustrating that Vi never got to properly answer to Jinx's accusations or point out Jinx's hypocrisy. I get that for most of the show, Vi is never really in a good state of mind to actually answer to these accusations, especially because Vi is usually busy blaming herself for everything. So I'm not saying it's bad writing that Vi never properly defended herself against these accusations. But it's still very frustrating)

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Cry. Call. Curse.

Yandere! Vampire x f! Reader

warnings: gore, blood (lots of it..), dead animals, death, vomiting, infantilization, weird relationship dynamics, pseudo-incest, loss of teeth, forced capture, nonconsensual acts, dead dove: do not eat

word count: 3.6k

©Copyright -2025- thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

“Tear me apart. Piece by piece. Rip me open and bare my naked insides to the world. I wish to let the shadows feast on the blood I spill, to let them dig their greedy little fangs into my liver and womb, to taint what hasn't been tainted before. To let them touch what hasn't been touched. So, Sire, tell me, should you grapple with your own creation?”

The Cry

It was cold. The night was merciless and the forest even more so. It lashed at you, screamed in your face for daring to set foot outside at such late of an hour.

She wanted her spotlight, the moon, and you were robbing her of it with your quick-pace. Making this about you, when she was truly the brightest star under the Sun's watchful gaze, yet, insufferable, little you just had to run for your life at night! How rude.

Truly how careless of you to sever the trees loving embrace of another, cursing as you felt yet another twig catch onto one of your many skirts, hissing at the sizzling pain that came with each whip. And truly just how utterly ignorant of you to be frantic enough to be carelessly loud, snapping twigs in half, fighting back the thicket, crunching leaves all while your footsteps and ragged breathing fell into a messy symphony, disturbing the night’s peace.

How mean you were to take away attention from her beauty as you fled—not just from the past that haunted you like a mellowed ghost, but also from the very real mob chasing after you.

Torches lit up and went down, cries declaring your nearing end sounded and faded, while they trampled all over everything on these sacred grounds — as father David liked to call the crust of the earth — like a herd of wild boars.

“Catch the witch!” he had commanded so fiercely and unleashed demons that resided in them; normal people to annihilate you.

Yet the game of cat and mouse only went to the borders of the forest, where it met the forbidden woods. You knew how easy people believed and how blindly—so you collapsed next to a tree soaked completely in darkness, leaving behind the only sources of light in the other holy parts of nature to curse and sardonically laugh at you.

“You dumb wench!” the mob cleared, dissipated until the last crazed person left, leaving you there, sat under the proud mahogany tree. All while you triumphed that you managed to survive another day unharmed. Danced another dangerous round of tango with the devil.

You had done your usual routine: trespass into a town to sell readings, prophecy of a made-up future, claim to be god’s third eye only to quickly be uncovered as a cheap charlatan with even cheaper tricks. You sighed. Dipped your fingers into your pocket to fish out your little treasures; your cards.

Your gaze flitted over the illustrations; your ‘pa had paid good money for them back in his day. Sort of family heirloom at this point. Funny.

You traced over the engravings on the back of the deck, letting your thoughts drift.

Life was tough and this made easy money. Fast money. Money you needed. Yet would it really be of use if you were killed because of it? You scoffed. “’Pa would scold me.” you couldn't help but blurt, while chuckling dryly, lungs still burning with the fear of capture.

Clouds were crowding the darkened skies. Their faint grays overlapping into a blur, clothing the moon in metal silk that hung off her rounded form loosely; some might say tempting. Yet she wasn't satisfied with it, how could she ever be? When something so disruptive stayed planted to the soil she laid claim on. So—some may say it is fate and others luck, but few would point their fingers at the real culprit; the moon.

Her light was your downfall.

You were cloaked in black under that wistfully swaying branch, yet the moment you rose—decided to search for a better place to spend the night at was when you had just unknowningly lost the chase.

Because, let's be truthful here, the game of cat and mouse hadn't even started. The mob not the real evil in your miserable story. You were glowing so beautifully tempting after all; like you were a piece of her after all and perhaps that's why she had decided to dress you in silver from head to toe and present you to him.

You hummed while you walked; a nervous habit of sorts. Sure it was dangerous, but you liked—no breathed danger! That's just what you always had known.

“I wonder if those green mushrooms grow here too.” you mumbled, chewing on the inside of your cheek, while rolling a flower bud you had plucked from the ground between your thumb and index finger. A sort of game you had developed and carried on from childhood.

Yeah, that was what it was.

A game.

For him at least.

“Mushrooms! Thank god—” relief was close to soothe you, to let you gnaw at the glowing bunch of mushroom heads you gathered greedily in your outermost skirt, so close to satiating the deep hunger clawing at your guts, when someone else beat you to it.

There was pain before you could even blink; raw, throbbing, angry pain. The kind that grabbed you by the scruff and turned you limp like a kitten. That kind.

“It will be over soon.” there was a murmur, something ominous and eerie. It was difficult to understand just who—or what spoke, when your entire neck was set ablaze; vicious red spraying all over you. It was blood, you realized far too late. And it was yours.

“Stop! Help!” the realisation came all too late and crushing, too slow. You were being drained, robbed of your very essence. You trashed and turned, kicked and fought, cried out, yet clawed hands only tightened around your shoulders pushing you into place as if you were dough this creature could mold to its liking.

“No! No, let go of me! Not like this—not this.” you protested, rather promised yourself, fighting against a face you didn't know and a strength that was everything but human. And perhaps in that very moment the moon took pity on you and that's why her shine dimmed and you ripped your throat free and with it your life.

“Humans.” the creature clicked his tongue, glaring down at your limp corpse oozing the delicious liquid in an admittedly very tantalising way; yet something about you was calling out to it. The curl between your brows, the restlessness still there on your frozen features—and your insistence on not dying at the hands of a monster, so much that you killed yourself. You were a special one.

He could feel it.

So lapping up at your neck, he thanked the moon for her graciousness and kissed your brow like a father would to say goodnight, only for him, this wasn't a goodbye.

The Call

Your skull throbbed. The tendrils of something painful curled around you, dirt laid heavy on your tongue and before you knew it you were frantically clawing your way out of a casket. Which deranged villager possibly would bury you alive—why would anyone bury anyone alive?

Vines clutched you, kept you in place; tendrils of death. You were chained by an indescribable force and forbidden to breathe free of dirt—it stung your lungs and scratched the back of your throat. God, you were drowning. Drowning in a pile of fucking dirt.

You howled; frantic, loud, desperate.

No one heard.

You tried louder; nothing.

You were swallowed up. You were dying. Your skull throbbed.

“Won't you raise, my love?”

You gasped for air, trashing and turning only to rip your eyes open to a foreign scenery. Dirt was replaced with pale silk and the casket with the largest bed you had ever had the luxury to lay upon. You glanced down at your hands, felt up your throat—nothing. There were no vines snaked around you like shackles.

You were alive, alive and well and—

“Little one.” you flinched. Dread coiled in the bottom of your stomach. You knew that voice.

“You—it’s you.” terror danced in your blurry vision as the monster from that night took shape in front of you. It was a man. A tall one with broad shoulders and slender wrists. And hair as silver as the moon that dressed him in her shimmer and skin as white as snow. Yet with two glowing balls of red for eyes.

Red. Like the blood he had made you shed.

“Little one, you’ve awoken.” he stated, almost relieved. He took a step closer, as if familiar, as if this was somehow excusable.

“Stay back!” you screeched. You had to flee, to call out for help, to do anything. This was a monster and who knew what he would do—

His shoulders dropped.

“Little one,” he sighed, “Is that any way to talk to your Sire?”

As if on cue, pure agony pumped through your veins straight to your stomach, as a hunger spread inside of you like a disease; something insatiable and maddening. Something you had never felt before. You yelped, eyes squeezing shut as you gripped the foreign piece of fabric that covered you in such fevor that you nearly tore it apart.

“Oh, dear. It seems to be happening already. What a fast fledging you are.” hadn't been standing at the foot of your bed? Why was he suddenly looking over you; watching you cry bitterly in confusion. You had been a normal human, free of the sins the villagers had accused you of—but now, you felt it deep inside of you, that what was happening to you would not let you remain untouched from evil.

“Don't worry, your Sire’s with you.” his words were little comfort when you felt one of your teeth loosen, cooper on your tongue, and then another one, until you spat out a half dozen of them into your open palms.

You were sobbing at this point, throat tight and gaze blurry with the fear of what you were becoming. God you hoped this was just another nightmare. That you were just too creative for your own good. Please.

“That's just part of the process, my love.” he muttered as if that would reassure you, as if anything could when you were in a monster’s bed with his arms around you. And the worst thing? You knew no one would be out there looking for you, because you were all on your own, shunned by your own kin.

“Shh, shh. It's okay, little one. I’ll give you a gold coin for each tooth you gain. Your kind likes shiny things, right? Now, don't be upset. C’mon sleep some more. The shock will fade soon.” he cradled you against him; neither cold nor warm, just uncomfortable and strange. Strange in the sense that he had nearly finished you and had dragged you here, yet now held you amidst the ache in your gums, as if you were the most fragile thing to have ever graced the earth.

Red tainted your hands. Angry and bold. A red that was out of reach from the moon’s grasp, hidden in your palms. The same colour that had sprung free from your neck that fateful night—were you dying? Was this death’s call? You couldn't tell.

“Hush, little one.” he rubbed your back as you wailed like you only ever had before in childhood. And finally you let yourself melt into the monster with claws for nails and eyes that of a predator and let yourself be lulled back into a dreamless slumber.

The Curse

You had lost all your teeth. In a matter of three bedridden days.

It was as if you were regressing back into a time you couldn't recall anymore, where your Ma’ still had been alive and when your only worry had been suckling on her breast.

Only as an infant you had been crazed for milk; something natural and god-given, but now you were screaming for something else entirely — out of a sort of thirst you had never experienced before, one that could only be satiated through the death of innocents —

blood.

Angry red that would curl around the corpses of wild boars and deers in swirles as he plopped them down in the middle of the room you were residing in, moreover kept captive in—but you didn't have the ability to protest, quite literally.

He would sit you at the edge of your bed, that grew colder everyday, then take a dagger with engravings on its hilt to slit the animal’s throat. Every time without a fail, he would then take the same goblet decorated with green jewels—little stones that he claimed represented you well.

“Come, little one, feed.” he called you today, like all the other ones, watching you like a hawk as you padded your way through the trails of crimson on weak knees—probably assessing your state; if you were recovering.

His lips curved upwards seeing how much more agile you were today. You didn't slump into yourself even once! “Good. You're improving.” he held the goblet to your lips, not trusting you enough yet to hold it up yourself. Putting a hand on the back of your head he guided you to drink—like one would lead a horse to water; like a mother squeezing her tit.

“Don’t worry, dear, your teeth will grow back in no time. You will have fangs such as mine.” he flashed you his own horror-inducing pearly-whites. So that was how you were going to look? Like a monster. Like your Sire? The creature that called himself your father.

Tears spilled over your lash line, sick to the stomach again; but even as you attempted to escape the wrongfully deliciousness that cooled the insatiable hunger inside of you—he didn't let you. He was unmoving, much like a statue.

“Shh, little one, don't cry. I know you must be upset. To not be able to express your gratitude to such a kind and refined gentleman such as I am for saving you from your old miserable existence. But don't worry, father will take care of you now.” he promised with those two rubies for eyes and streaks of whites that draped over his shoulders.

He looked young, as young as you. Still the creature claimed himself to be your guardian, acted dotting when he had cursed you with something you never asked for—and expected acceptance, gratitude even for it.

Your teeth grew back over the course of one week. Of one agonizing torturous week where you teethed on everything you could get your hands on like a little baby, whining and crying into the chest of your capturer, while suckling on whatever type of relief he provided, may it be blood to fill your stomach or meat to chew on or his own slit wrist; for his own sick and perverse enjoyment.

It wasn't until you regained all your teeth and with them your strength that things shifted, that he no longer regarded you a fledgling. Because you no longer were—with your proud canines and glowing gaze. You were a monster now, of his kin.

And his kind was oh-so rare, oh-so scarce, like grains of rice plucked from fields and he was oh, so, very lonely.

Which is why he just had to do what he did.

“If you had just listened,” he cooed.

Heavy gaze bearing down on you. Disappointment. Resignation. Contempt.

He looked at you as if truly you had been at fault for trying to escape, for the splitter of hope that had possessed you the moment you had fully grown into your new state, accepted that you no longer were woman or human, but monster instead.

“Stop! Please!” you could do nothing but cry as he continued to feed you what once had delighted you, made your mouth water at thought of the savoury taste; human food—the kind that made a grown Vampire hunch over to puke onto whatever he could find.

“Open wide, little one.” his voice was so sweet in tone, so innocent, concealing the torture he inflicted on you as you sat between his thighs, quivering as another glop of mashed up potatoes was dropped onto your tongue and pushed down your throat with his claws.

You gagged again. Like with ever other bite, stomach churning in protest, growing shades paler than you already had become. His hold on your soul was the only thing that kept you still and frozen there, even as bile rose up your throat, inch by painful inch—while he watched, unashamed gleefully.

Vomit sputtered from your lips, gagging and gurgling on it, nearly choking from how stiffly frozen you were. Only you knew you could not choke because you did not breathe. Not anymore at least. Not after he had robbed you of breath and now of decision, commanding your body to loosen only when his amusement turned to sympathy at the way you had swallowed nearly half of the yellow goo, only for your stomach to puke it all out again.

“Oh poor you.” he cooed, hand on your crown, brushing away strays, before he lifted you up as your stomach emptied for the last time onto your silken dress—it had to be something expensive. And he just let you ruin it.

“Little one,” the castle moaned again as it did so often, with the tiles creaking, “We’ll get you cleaned up.” The moon your only steady companion, graced your features once again, but this time in a gentle caress—for she once had held spiteful vengeance against you, envied you for your quick feet that carried you over earth’s surface; an annoyingly carefree little thing, but now she pitied you, for she could see your future was all but dim.

He carried you outside. As if to shame you publicly. No fear of you attempting to escape behind his back—for he knew that he could simply command you back. But just the thought that you had dared to, enraged yet hurt his brittle heart.

Setting you down at the pond’s edge like you weighted less than a feather, he made quick work of unfastening your bodice; some dress of a noble woman now long rotting under soil.

“Oh little one.” he purred, something odd in his tone today—something terrifyingly depraved that would send a shudder down your spine if you weren't sick, vomit drying on the corner of your mouth, shame once more finding you even after you had tried to cast her away. Like the moon that shone so brightly and could only watch your plight. Because unlike the times he had forcefully bathed you and ripped raw terrors from your chest—this time he striped himself too.

“What are you—” you shut. Eyes enlarging at the sight—too deceiving was his physique; that of a young man when his soul was nothing but that of a beast that took and only took in every shape or form.

“I will bathe with you this time. Why the grim face?” he spoke so casually you wanted to flee or attack—a true vampire you had become at heart.

“It’s only my duty to take care of you, little one. Look at all your teeth, aren't you proud? They all grew so well because of my blood.” he captured you in the water, caged you in between two pale and slender arms, ones that looked unassuming but could suffocate in the blink of an eye.

“Little one,” he whispered with red rubies for eyes and you felt something terrible poke at your thigh. “Little one—won’t you thank me for taking such good care of you?” curling his claws under you, he shifted your core towards his so dangerously close to a place you had once innocently believed he would never make you touch. Thinking that the words he muttered and the tender gaze of his only belied an obsession to have a child—but he didn't want that, now did he? He wanted a woman, he wanted you.

But in secret he craved both wife and child. Yet none were ever granted to him, even when he had forcefully took and pillaged, until you.

Oh you were perfect—and he was so depraved of love, that the lines blurred and somehow he wasn't sure what was decent and what not. He was your Sire, but still, you had been an adult, with a figure of that of an woman but a hunger that of a little darling—the lines blurred. And who could blame him for it, when he had spent centuries wallowing away alone? Alone until he had met and captured you.

So even as he made you a woman again, he could do nothing but cry in bliss, both a guardian and a lover, fervent as he tore at your scar; the evidence of your death, sinking his fangs into it as he moaned, while letting the entire forest and the moon witness the depravity he put on show.

“My love—” he rasped, groaning like an animal, panting like a beast “you will never escape your Sire.” he sunk himself deeper into you.

It was another biting cold night, another one filled with the howling of the wind and the swaying of trees. And with the moon, who watched again.

Yet this time she shed tears for you.

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

I'm thinking about König and his three kids you managed to give him from this post. Two sons and a daughter, and your daughter is the ring leader.

He marries you two days after you tell him you were pregnant with the boys. (It's a cute courthouse wedding and he insist that Kim *Horangi*be the witness to your union.)

You both argue about you working and he expresses how he has enough income for you and all of the little babies he's gonna put into you. He's thinking at least six kids!

You are thinking about pushing out six kids and you tell him "absolutely not Sir."

You both compromised on three (four if your second pregnancy is twins again. You're thankful that it's just the one girl. His babies are grown big, and you now have 3 under two a circus, really)

Your sons names are Lukas and Leon

Your daughter is named Charlotte (But she is called Lottie by her dad)

Speaking of König, I hc that König is his last name, but people really think it's a call sign (lol his first name Mathias)

When he's on deployment or needs to be stationed on base for extended periods, he hires a nanny to help you around the house.

Every night König video calls you and the children, he tells them bed time stories that he remembers his Oma telling him.

When he is home, the kids are glued to him. He can't take two steps without Lukas or Leon following after him. Lottie makes it known that she doesn't acknowledge you. (All three of them are traitors really)

You adore how sweet your husband is with his kids. He's stern when needed and breaks up fights between his boys. He doesn't believe in spanking. (His own father before the bastard left and never came back was abusive he never wants to harm his kids)

His daughter though? He genuinely thinks she can do no wrong!

"My Daddy, my Daddy, My Daddy" to death the second she starts talking. Her first words were "Dada," you were distraught, honestly. But you do love how he treats her. He teaches his sons to treat their sister and you well with respect. Won't even tolerate anything less.

Very much a "She's your mother, but she's my wife" type of Dad.

Out of your 3 kids, it's Lottie that's the ring leader for trouble. Lukas is often trying to descalate her, and Leon encourages and enables. So when they get in trouble it's often König that gives them a stern talking to.

You frowned at your husband. "Mathias, you can't keep telling our kids to just assault people when they are insulted!" Your kids have all been expelled from school over fighting again. "We are not raising hooligans!"

König sighed and smiled sweetly at you "meine geliebte Frau" He presses a kiss to your forehead, "our children will only have each other should something ever happen to us. We aren't raising hooligans. We are raising children who defend themselves and demand respect ja?"

You aren't moved by his sweet but true words. Your body leans into his, enjoying his warmth and tight embrace. "We need a new start. Somewhere the kids won't be called the hellion trio." You pout.

He hums in thought, "Fine, pick somewhere, and we will move there. New start for my wife."

König is not happy you chose England of all places. You have family out in that neck of the woods you tell him. More help with the kids when he's stationed at base or deployed.

Your kids don't mind the move at first but can't stand the weather. Lottie though has suddenly amassed a nice collection of raincoats and rain boots that are all color coordinating.

But that's besides the point. Because not even four months into the new school year, your kids have detention for fighting. But in the end your kids end up being friends with the other two kids named Tommy and Oliver Riley.

You and Mrs. Riley, get along great! You both plan play dates and get togethers for the kids.

A shame that your husbands don't like each other.

[thebestpartofwakingup]

Most modern-au fanfic writers across fandoms tend to use the modern setting as a way to askew the conflicts inherent to the setting of the canon story, often overall reducing the AMOUNT of conflict occurring rather than just lowering the stakes

And I kind of feel like MGS is weirdly unexplored ground for fixing this common fandom problem? Like there are so many elements of so many characters that range from neutral – heroic within the specific setting and conflicts of the MGS games but would immediately become huge sources of drama in a “normal” setting

Or, put more simply,

I CANNOT believe with all the normal-setting MGS aus that have been written NOBODY has written one centering on the scandal of the Boss’s THREE SECRET FAMILIES

ESPECIALLY with the amount of modern-MGS aus ive seen that are SO desperate to get away from accidentally making Bosselot real actual incest.

Give me teenage Hal showing up at the door step of the most unstable batshit man in America a la Bojack Horseman season 4.

So many MGS characters canonically use the military and war and patriotism to ignore and get away from all the other mounting problems, chaos, and drama. Lean into that. Cobra Unit even breaks apart after WW2 specifically because the Boss and the Sorrow get SO into patriotism for OPPOSITE world powers. And then she — the same woman who could NOT bring herself in 10+ years to tell a GROWN MAN she is PROFESSIONALLY responsible for that SANTA CLAUS is NOT REAL — KILLS HER EX on his immediate request. That is not a peaceful relationship - widow pipeline you writers think it is. A neat end to one relationship to set the foundation for a future, equally peaceful, lesbian relationship. The Sorrow wasn’t even DEAD yet when she and Strangelove met. She KNOWS he can talk to ghosts. This castle of cards was NEVER stable and you, fanfic writers, want ME to believe that pulling the table cloth out from under that castle would make it better??

You think between making lattes at the coffee shop Ocelot is not be inundated with texts and phone calls and emails about how his parents are not abiding by their restraining orders, court mandated drug checks, and psychiatric evaluations? How far do you think veteran benefits go? Imagine how much worse that situation gets if you divorce the military from it entirely because that woman got the codename “Joy” from the sheer euphoria she expressed from *killing people with her bare hands* she essentially invented the concept of *punching people to death* you remove her from a military context?? You think that version of Ocelot is having a simple and peaceful life at the flower shop? You think he’s not being asked to put up bail?

Rule 1 of Revolver Ocelot is he is the way he is because he is the WORST IMAGINABLE combination of “nature” AND “nurture” you think that changes outside of the military? My man is getting his ass kicked by hereditary BPD on BOTH sides.

[teamjacobthot]

tbh, i caught your tags on one of the reblogs of a post and i was curious enough to look into more of your takes. honestly? 💯💯

another thing to note on the racism in twilight (other than the obvious vampire bias through smeyer's oh sorry, Bella's pov.... 🙄) is how Bella in BD has the audacity to call the vampires' shitty treatment of Jacob (yknow, her supposed "best friend") as "easy acceptance"(!!!)

I was amazed at the easy acceptance the visiting vampires had for Jacob (..). Jacob seemed more or less invisible to them, not quite a person, but also not food, either. They treated him the way people who are not animal-lovers treat the pets of their friends.

☝️☝️ Taken directly from the book, this is from Bella's on viewpoint, so there is no misquoting here. that's exactly how she thinks of it and she's amazed by it!

what pisses me off the most is that i've seen people *cough* twilight tiktok and reddit *cough* defend the Cullens letting the vampires come over and feed on humans during their stay (yknow, something Bella the Biased™️ touts the Cullens as "good to the core"(!)) becus "ummm ☝️🤓 they need them to witness for renameme 👉👈🥺 the Cullens' lives are at stake!!!"

to which i say, have your meetup literally anywhere else?? the book, especially Breaking dawn, made the Cullens come off as rich and multimillionaires with private islands and only wearing clothes "once" and "enough money to keep a small country afloat for decades" and yet your telling me they can't find another house that's FAR AWAY from the tribe where they WON'T end up ruining the lives of some Quileute kids by making them phase into wolves against their will?? And ALL Bella says in the Volturi meetup where she sees all those young werewolves are "ah makes sense the werewolf population will explode with all these vampires~ 😮😮 uwuwuwu"

FUCK Bella and the Cullens for that. All this for their little Rigatoni halfpire child. They've gotta be the most selfish mfs on the planet.

first, I’m sorry for this late ass response!! second, you spilled.

I always think abt how cullens could’ve used their billionaire resources to gather all their witnesses in isle esme, or the arctic circle, or some giant empty ass area of a desert, or or or-

the books and their themes surrounding only bella and edward does such a disservice to the readers though. this is the paragraph right before the quote you provided:

ik this topic has been discussed to death in wolf pack-centric circles (hiii oomfies 💜) but this shit is kinda devastating, isn’t it? and knowing that jacob’s whole thing up until he imprinted was about the importance of having CHOICESSSSSS in life, this breaks my fawking heart. bella is a big part of his character journey ofc but she’s not everything and it’s easy for the reader to forget this when he’s treated like a damn house pet.

jake phased for the first time at 16 years old, assumed the position of a Local Supernatural Protector of Human Lives at 16 years old, and fell in line to sam’s orders until he couldn’t anymore, so he could try to protect bella. and THEN he made the hard decision to break off from the pack and embrace his family legacy of being an alpha at 16 years old. then boom, he loses his autonomy to imprinting and is bonded to bella and edward’s baby forever. AT 16 YEARS OLD.

before he imprinted, jake and the rest of the pack wouldn’t have stood for any of this witness shit in breaking dawn, but bella’s narrative just treats this as jake essentially turning the other cheek and saying “oh well!” bc of the imprint. imprinting was a blessing for jared, a bullet for leah, and a band-aid for jacob. and then there’s bella, who — despite caring for jacob (smeyer’s words not mine) — doesn’t give a shit abt middle schoolers on the rez phasing, bc her child’s safety is more important than theirs. the rez kids are just casualties. makes me sick fr

[stargirrlinterlude]

Thoughts on s2 e7 — *spoilers*

1. I've seen so many people online say they think Lumon set Mark and Gemma up in a relationship, maybe controversial but i disagree. Even though we saw the Lumon symbol at the beginning with the blood donations, it was fully them falling in love with each other. Since Lumon is a biotech company it's not some weird coincidence that they'd have their logos in medical places.

2. Devon is not evil, why have i seen people say because she has an android she's evil? Have you seen ANY name brand tech in this show, let alone something from the 2010's? I do think she knows more than we've been shown, especially with her general distrust towards Lumon from the get go but she's not evil or on their side. And while "i'm calling cobel" was a shock, she was panicked. Her (as far as we know) only remaining family is possibly dying, of course she would call someone who might know something.

3. There wasn't a car crash, or at least Gemma didn't die in one. Still hesitant to fully believe this because they said mark did see her body but she was adamant about him saying i love you back, and Reghabi did say Lumon had people they can pay off.

Going back to the clinic, Maur (the creepy guy from Lumon) also worked there and most likely would've seen the failed attempts at getting pregnant as well as Gemma's most likely spiralling mental state. Which would explain why the clinic sent her the cards, specifically Chikhai Bardo, the same card Dylan took back in season one and that I think we saw again earlier season 2. They saw her suffering but wanted to test if she would be a good candidate.

4. Cold harbor most likely has to do with some sort of death experience, whether it's Gemma's own or her repeatedly experiencing another's death (miscarriage). I do think Mark is going to finish the file because he doesn't know what it is, even after reintegration he has to go to work and pretend everything's cool so he can find his wife.

Since it's harbor and the nurse asked if Gemma was more scared of drowing or suffocating, and she said drowning, it might be her repeately drowned. To see if a severed brain could forget an experience as traumatic as death.

[tiddiewitch]

Second Chances - Ch. 1

Description: Agathario AU / Wagatha

Warnings: Death, miscarriage, drinking? I don't think anything else yet

Notes: So since @captain-raffi asked, I've decided to post the first chapter of the fic I've been working on. I don't really write, but for some reason this invaded my brain and I saw the whole thing like a movie and just had to get it out. It's looking like it'll be several chapters so strap in, or on ;) (eventually)

Chapter 1: 0

It wasn’t the alarm that woke Agatha that morning, but the impending sense of doom. Today was the day; her birthday. Among the usual angst of aging, unwanted recognition from friends and colleagues, and an obligatory dinner with her mother, she was particularly woeful about this milestone. She had told herself this was it. The last shot at creating the family that she and Wanda had always dreamed about. 

They met early in college when Agatha’s roommate Jen brought her home from a sorority function. The two girls had stumbled in and began cooking loudly in the kitchen, waking her. She stormed so fiercely out of her room that night the door handle created a dent in the wall behind it. She raged into the kitchen already screaming at Jen for waking her when she had an 8am exam the next day before realizing there was another person in the kitchen. Wanda popped up from behind the refrigerator door eating one of her cheese sticks. Giggling, she apologized for their disturbance and offered to replace the food she had been eating. Enraged, Agatha screeched and stormed back off to her room to have a fitful night’s sleep. After that evening, as Jen continued to bring Wanda over, she would bring a bag of cheese sticks for Agatha, every now and again, as an apology for their first interaction. 

Despite this act of kindness Agatha did her best to avoid them both whenever Wanda was over. Until one night when she and her friend Ralph brought over dinner for all of them. Wanda had managed to break down a few walls Agatha had built and even made her laugh as she poked fun at Jen. After that night Agatha began to look forward to each time Wanda would visit, ensuring she always looked her best. Half the time she would bring Ralph and the three of them would wreak havoc throughout their campus in one drunken escapade or another. Before she knew it she had fallen for this kind, bubbly, passionate, brilliant woman. She was surprised to find Wanda had similar feelings and they endeavored in a relationship that survived grad school and eventually led to marriage. 

Their life together had been one adventure after another. They bought a small cottage near Wanda’s hometown. Agatha worked downtown as a financial advisor while Wanda was either researching or off on another expedition. They thrived in their fields as they challenged each other’s success. It was blissful, happy, and full of love, yet doomed not to last.

Wanda had disappeared almost 7 years ago now, off on another one of her archeological expeditions. She was brilliant, reckless, and passionate about her studies. It’s what drew Agatha to her in the first place. They way she would babble on and on about ancient goddesses and fertility rituals whose practices were nearly lost to time if it weren’t for the work she was doing. This time, while exploring a series of caverns, her team lost contact with her. They had sent rescue teams down immediately but were unable to locate her. It was weeks of searching before they decided to call. 

“I don’t know how to tell you this Agatha…” said the voice on the other end

“SPIT IT OUT! TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!” she shouted into the receiver. Her breath heavy with tears starting to form in her eyes.

“We…we don’t know. We haven’t been able to find her body.”

“Her…body?! You don’t mean you’ve stopped looking? What are you even saying?”

“Agatha, we found her gear near a crevice. It’s too deep and tight for any of our guys to get down any further... It’s been 3 weeks. I’m so sorry.”

Wanda wasn’t even supposed to have gone on this trip. Agatha was nearly 4 months pregnant with the child they had finally decided to try for after Wanda agreed to cut back on expeditions and move into an adjunct professorship at the nearby college. Now she was faced with raising this child alone. The despair ate away at her. She had to force herself to eat for the baby. Barely able to sleep, just holding on to the last little piece of her life with Wanda. That was until her next appointment. 

She knew the moment the nurse smiled at her something was off. She had excused herself, saying she needed a second opinion from the doctor. He came in, cold and distant, looking at the screen as if he was just checking emails. He sat down on the stool, turned off the monitor and turned to face her. 

“I’m sorry to tell you this but we are unable to find a heartbeat and there is no movement. We need to schedule you for a DNC as soon as possible to avoid complications.” As if it was that matter of fact. As if she hadn’t just lost the last bit of love and hope she had. She didn’t react. She couldn’t in that moment. She just went through the motions, signed the papers and had the procedure without a tear in sight. She only collapsed in grief upon entering the threshold of their cottage. She must have spent a day at least just on the floor on the other side of the door, weeping silently as the grief passed over her in waves. 

She would have stayed there even longer had it not been for Jen busting her door in once she heard the news. Though she would likely never admit it, Jen had saved her that day. For how much they bickered and taunted each other, at the root of it was a sisterly bond they had forged at school.

It took a few years for her life to start to feel human again. For the grief to not hit her before dawn. She could look herself in the eyes again and not immediately begin to cry. Instead she saw the strength that these tragedies had built inside her. That was the first year she celebrated her birthday again. An all out bash, Ralph had invited everyone she had ever known, to let loose and have a moment of joy, if just for one night. In the end she wouldn’t have remembered much of it had it not been for him. 

Ralph had been there for the beginning of her and Wanda’s relationship. Almost like a big, gay third wheel. He would take them to all the gay bars and drag shows, in turn they would feed and house him during grad school. He could see when they would be headed for a fight and know how to diffuse the situation and how to get them to apologize to one another when he wasn’t there to calm the tensions. He was their obvious choice as a donor when they finally decided to start trying to have kids. He had been there for all the ups and downs when they were first trying to conceive. Once Agatha had gotten pregnant he accepted a series of cruise ship contracts and was away when it all fell apart. That regret was everlasting and he was constantly trying to make it up to her. 

He had helped plan and orchestrate the party, agreeing to stay; somewhat, sober to ensure things didn’t get too out of hand. He kept a watchful eye over Agatha and made sure at the end of the night she drank some water and took some medicine. He helped her to bed, tucking her in and in her drunken stupor she begged him to stay. To hold her until she slept so she didn’t have to fall asleep alone. As he held her they talked about Wanda, about the life they had planned. About the baby they almost had and he just let her weep until she drifted off. 

In the morning she had awoken to the smell of coffee and burned bacon with a splitting headache. Making her way down the hall she found Ralph in the kitchen with her apron on attempting to make pancakes. 

“Morning Birthday girl! How you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been run over by a bus”

“5 shots of tequila and whatever else you drank will do that to you. Especially at 35!”

“Eugh, don’t remind me.” 

“Can I offer you some breakfast? Perhaps a bloody mary, mimosa?”

“If I smell alcohol right now I will puke all over this table. I don’t know how I’m even alive right now.”

“How much do you remember?”

“Not a whole lot, Jen and I were singing at some point. I remember cake but I don’t remember eating cake. I definitely cried at some point but the details are fuzzy.” 

“Girl, every time I turned around you were making out with another woman. I would’ve made sure you got laid but you were too far gone by 10 for that to be a good idea.” He chuckled before falling silent, a question hovering on his lips. Finally he asked, “Do you remember our conversation last night?”

“You’ll have to enlighten me.” Her face flushed with embarrassment and nausea. 

“I’m only bringing it up now because you brought it up first last night and in the state you were in it felt like a confession to me. So here goes… are you serious about trying to have a kid again on your own?” She was stunned. Had she really admitted she wasn’t done trying? Hadn’t given up that hope? She sipped the now cold black coffee on the table in front of her and munched on a piece of bacon as she rolled the question around in her hungover head. At her age it wasn’t impossible but the chances lowered the longer she waited. If there was any chance at a piece of the life she had imagined, would it not be worth it in the end?

“I mean, I have thought about it. But it seems crazy, especially after everything.”

“You think about it. It’s a big decision, but if it’s something you’ve always wanted? You’re the only person I know crazy enough to do it and be a damn good mother. And you wouldn’t be alone. You have me for one, guncle Ralph, and you know Jen would be over the moon…eventually.” 

“Gods, Jen would kill me for sure! The last thing she wants is to pull me out of another pit of despair.” She sat with the thought imagining the life she really wanted now. “I don’t see myself getting into another relationship… but I’ve always known I wanted children” she said with a misty smile.

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive, Agatha. There is still time, I’m here either way. At least for the next couple of months before Magic of the Seas sets sail.”

She contemplated the offer over the next month and in the end decided she deserved to find this happiness if at all possible. Over the next few years, whenever he was in town, they would plan a night - go have dinner, sing karaoke, catch a drag show that, half the time, Ralph was hosting and afterward they would go back to her place. She’d watch a movie while he jerked it in the guest bathroom and then he’d leave her to manage the rest on her own. 

It was definitely different than when she and Wanda had tried. She remembered the effort she had gone through to ensure the day was perfect. Doting on Agatha, bringing her breakfast in bed. They spent the day outside, went to a concert, and had a romantic dinner out. They returned home as Ralph left, and spent most of the night locked in an intimate embrace. All these efforts proved fruitful and they quickly became pregnant. 

Though she tried, she couldn’t quite recreate Wanda’s magic. She was too aware of the emptiness surrounding her. It made the endeavor too practical and clinical. She was not as lucky this go around either. The first year she made 4 attempts, none of them successful. The following year the stars aligned and she was able to successfully conceive. This however was short lived as she didn’t make it past the first trimester. Devastated, she took a step back and didn’t try again the rest of that year. Then this last year she made 6 unsuccessful attempts. Each time she saw the negative result her stomach dropped and heart ached. By the end she resigned herself to one final shot - her birthday. 

Somehow all the stars aligned. The day landed within her fertile window, Ralph was able to come into town the day before, there was even a full blood moon! She knew Wanda would look to that as an affirmation from the universe that this was the time.  

https://www.tumblr.com/tiddiewitch/776932052760182784/second-chances?source=share (to chapter 2 pt. 1)

[itsnesss]

Could you please do a Miguel Diaz x reader. Reader is Miyagi’s grandniece (or granddaughter, whichever) and she takes her boyfriend to his grave for the first time so they can like meet. I know it might be off with the canon, Miyagi never really marrying after the war and having only one child who died but I think it’d be cute

𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐣𝐢𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐧 | miguel diaz × fem!reader

summary | you take miguel to your grandfather miyagi’s grave. he shows respect, opens his heart, and leaves a small gift. as you leave, you feel his presence

warnings | reader!miyagi, fluff, cute, emotional conversations

word count | 1.1 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The sound of Daniel's truck engine softly fades as you arrive at the cemetery. The cool afternoon breeze rustles through the trees, making the fallen leaves crunch gently underfoot. This isn’t the first time you’ve come here, but today feels different. Today, you’re not alone.

Miguel steps out of the car first and walks to your side, taking your hand gently.

"Are you sure?" he asks in a soft tone, noticing how your fingers tighten slightly around his.

You take a deep breath and nod, giving him a smile that doesn’t quite hide your nerves.

"Yes. I want you to meet him."

Walking along the stone path is a ritual you’ve done many times, but today, each step feels heavier. Not because it hurts to come here, but because introducing Miguel to the man who meant the most to your family is a big deal.

Since you were little, you've come to this grave with Daniel and the LaRusso family, always with respect and love. You grew up listening to stories about Mr. Miyagi—his wisdom, his bravery, and his unwavering kindness. Even though you never met him in person, you feel like his presence has always been with you. And now, bringing Miguel here… it feels like an important step.

"It looks really peaceful," Miguel murmurs, glancing around as you walk past the headstones.

"It is. Ojiisan always said that peace was important."

Miguel smiles at the way you call him Ojiisan. It’s not a literal title, but in your heart, Mr. Miyagi has always been more than just a sensei or an old family friend. He was a pillar.

Finally, you arrive.

The granite headstone stands with dignity—simple yet strong, just like the man it belongs to. "Nariyoshi Miyagi" is engraved on it, along with his birth and death dates. Right in front, someone has left a small origami crane, a tradition that never fades.

The air around you feels a little heavier—not with sadness, but with respect. With meaning.

"Mr. Miyagi…" Miguel murmurs, as if just saying the name carries a sacred weight.

You kneel in front of the grave, gently tracing the edge of the stone, and Miguel follows your lead.

"Ojiisan, I came to see you," you whisper fondly, feeling a slight lump in your throat. "And I’m not alone."

Miguel doesn’t wait for an introduction; he simply bows his head in respect.

"It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Miyagi," he says sincerely. "I wish I could have met you in person."

You can tell his words are genuine. Miguel has heard so many stories about him from Daniel, from Sam, from you… He knows Miyagi was a great man, someone who left an impossible-to-erase legacy.

You pull a small handkerchief from your pocket and gently wipe away a few leaves that the wind has scattered over the headstone.

"Ojiisan, this is Miguel."

Your voice is soft but carries deep emotion.

"He’s my boyfriend… and also a great karateka."

Miguel lowers his head with a small, shy smile, feeling a mix of pride and nerves.

"Not that great," he jokes, trying to ease the tension he feels.

You give him an amused look.

"Don’t be modest. Mr. Miyagi appreciated humility, but also confidence."

"Then…" Miguel lifts his head with more certainty. "I’m learning. And I promise to keep improving."

You’re surprised by the determination in his voice, but you know it’s natural for him. Miguel doesn’t just train for himself—he trains for those he loves.

You take his hand again, intertwining your fingers with his.

"Ojiisan… Miguel takes care of me, you know? Not just in fights, but every day. He makes me laugh, he supports me, and he’s good, just like you."

Miguel looks at you, his eyes shining with emotion, clearly moved by your words.

"I try to do my best," he adds quietly. "I want to be someone she can be proud of."

Silence. Only the wind caressing the trees, the distant sound of a bird.

Miguel gently squeezes your hand.

"And I know that if you were here, you’d be looking after her too."

Your eyes well up with tears, but you smile.

"He always does."

A few minutes pass where neither of you speaks. It’s not necessary. This is a moment of respect, of connection—something beyond words.

Then, Miguel clears his throat, as if deciding whether to speak or not.

"I… don’t know if this is weird," he says quietly, "but… do you think I could tell him something?"

You look at him curiously but nod.

"Of course."

Miguel looks at the headstone with seriousness, as if he’s truly speaking to the man resting there.

"Mr. Miyagi… I know you meant a lot to everyone. To Sensei LaRusso, to your family, to your granddaughter."

You pause for a second, hearing the way he says your name with such warmth.

"I… my dad isn’t in my life," Miguel continues, his voice trembling just slightly. "I don’t know where he is, if he remembers me, or if he even cares. But I know that if you were here… I would have wanted to learn from you."

You lower your head, touched by his words. Miguel doesn’t talk much about his father, but you know that absence has been with him all his life.

"And even though I never met you, I want to do something right," he goes on. "I want to be someone she can trust. I want to be strong—not just in karate. I want to be strong here."

He places a hand over his chest, right where his heart beats.

"That’s what matters most," you whisper, gently touching his hand over his heart.

Miguel looks at you and smiles, even though his eyes still shine with restrained emotion.

"I think Ojiisan would have loved hearing you say that."

He lets out a soft but genuine laugh.

"I hope so."

You spend a little more time there, simply being together in that peaceful space. You talk a little more, telling Miyagi small details about your life, about training, about how Daniel tries to teach the new students without losing his patience.

Before leaving, you place a flower on the grave. Miguel watches the gesture and, without hesitation, pulls something from his pocket—a small wooden keychain with a carved kanji for "strength."

"It’s a gift I got in Mexico, from a market," he explains. "They told me strong wood never breaks."

He gently places it next to the flower.

"Thank you for letting me come," he murmurs as you walk away together.

"Thank you for being here," you reply with a smile. "I know Ojiisan would have loved meeting you."

Miguel smiles and presses a soft kiss to your forehead before opening the car door for you.

And as you drive away, with the sun setting behind the trees, you feel that, somehow, your grandfather is smiling too.

[songofamazon]

A Circle Unbroken

This was inspired by a prompt from @thedissonantverses Challenge Weekend: "A Circle Unbroken." That was begging to be a later scene in "Iron and Ice," my new-ish Neve Gallus x Vivienne de Fer fic.

It will definitely be edited to reflect whatever happens between chapter 1 and this once I get there, but I had fun imagining this bit today.

(1612 words)

Vivienne gazed down from her balcony near the peak of the White Spire of Orlais. The imperial palace had fallen, and soon after the Grand Cathedral. Smoke, Blight, and chaos wreathed the streets below, but somehow, the Circle still stood.

Somehow?

No.

Vivienne knew exactly how. She had seen to it that the White Spire would hold against the torrents of terror and violence outside its walls.

Leveraging Divine Victoria’s influence and her own authority over the Circle’s mages and templars, Vivienne transformed the fortified tower as a place of refuge for all who wanted it and were willing to leave any conflict at the gates.

Now, hundreds of clerics and other chantry staff tended hundreds more refugees from all races and walks of life right alongside the Circle’s mages. Templars and mages from more remote loyalist Circles, and even some from the so-called College of Enchanters, joined to their numbers. Living quarters were cramped. Blankets and curtains made temporary living spaces in the dungeons for those who wanted more privacy.

Mages healed the sick and renewed the wards against the threats outside. Templars guarded the gates and more precious storerooms, now that their duty of collecting and tagging refugee weapons was complete. There would be no fighting in this tower. The Divine’s most trusted clerics worked alongside Vivienne’s most level-headed templars to insure that. Existing Spire staff as well as capable refugees saw to food, sanitation, and cleaning in the tight spaces. And a single Gray Warden who had been traveling through Val Royeaux when chaos struck offered her services in ensuring that no Blight found its way inside.

Their operation was carefully monitored and adjusted at each level, and, so far, it worked. Sealing the gates five days earlier had been both the most important and most soul-wrenching act under Vivienne’s command.

Could they have fit a few more? Perhaps.

Would allowing entry to more have reunited more families and brought more supplies? Also perhaps.

But it could have just as likely brought conflict and Blight into their midst.

Vivienne already had too many in her care. She owed those charges security and well-being. She could not risk it.

She gazed past the smoky haze to the east. There had been no reply to her missives to Halamshiral in too many days. Fair few of her messenger birds from anywhere returned. Could the awakened Blight snatch a raven out of the sky? She shuddered at the thought.

And to the north? The horrible red light of the weeks-long eclipse cast shadows of blood.

Only divine-like power could have moved the moon and held it in such perfect, obscuring orbit—divine like magic already demonstrated by the unleashed Evanuris.

Vivienne would not speak those suspicions aloud. She left interpretation of the signs to the sermons of the Divine and her clerics. It was better that way. Let people have hope in their Maker.

As for her?

The Maker and his Bride felt more distant now than ever, with the earthly presence of the two ancient elven gods claiming divinity, power, and dominion for themselves.

Even Solas’ awakened power far out-stripped her own.

While Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain took their seat of power in the North, it would not be long before they cast their blighted gazes South. Neve and her Veilguard would need all the power they could get to hold it back—without Vivienne.

Nothing good moved on that northern horizon. No messenger birds there, either. Only blood, fire, and death.

“Worrying about your allies?” the Divine observed as she approached.

Vivienne’s fingers went to the intricately worked though false gold and brocade collar necklace that Neve had bought off a hawker in Minrathous what seemed like an age ago. Vivienne had changed back into proper Orlesian fashion upon her return to the Spire weeks ago, but she couldn't seem to bring herself to put away the trinket.

Fine robes rustled at the doorway between her suite and the adjoining suite she had lent to the Divine.

“Always, your Radiance,” Vivienne admitted, “And my charges, the refugees, and the state of the world.”

“Vivienne! How often must I tell you? It’s Leliana in private,” she chided. “But as you say, it falls to all of us to worry, to pray, and to serve those who need us.”

“As we do here.” What did Leliana want from her today? Or rather, what need had the clerics—or her spies—identified within the Spire? Neither woman had the luxury of idle chatter these days.

Leliana smiled knowingly at her. “You express more than you think, Madame de Fer. And I was once an accomplished player of the Game.”

“But I think,” Leliana started impishly as she joined Vivienne at the balcony railing, “You are missing your lady love most of all.”

Vivienne jerked her hand away from the necklace. “I have uttered no such—“

“You never stopped, my dear.” Vivienne favored her with a weary smile.

“Just don’t tell my clerics. But you’re deflecting,” Leliana teased, then sobered, “But there is never anything wrong with worrying for those you love—or in loving at all.”

“My dear Leliana, you know as well as I do that women of our responsibility have naught the time nor the risk of vulnerability for love.”

“So you say,” Leliana hummed to herself. “Don’t fear. I hold secrets close. But, you haven’t heard from them recently?” She shifted subjects so quickly, Vivienne had not time to protest. Leliana had that infuriating knack, which she deployed so cheerfully.

“No,” Vivienne admitted with a sigh, her gaze tracing north again, in some desperate, frivolous hope of a messenger bird. “Not since the eclipse started. All of us—those of us mages with sufficient skill to sense it—are certain the power that wrenched the moon from its place came from the north. Likely Tevinter.”

“Where your Scout Harding and the rest of her team have been working,” Leliana nodded solemnly. “I have heard nothing from her or any of my people outside of Orlais either. I don’t think my birds can get past the miasma.”

Vivienne forced herself to turn away from the balcony edge. “And so we focus on what is here, and try to plan for a future past this ruin, do we not?”

“One day at a time,” Leliana agreed, then drifted back towards her suite’s door. She paused suddenly, half-way across the common room. “Vivienne? I believe your closet is knocking.”

“What?” Vivienne strode towards her, hearing the polite knocking of a hand against wood as well. The eluvian! Her fingers shook as she pulled the keys from her belt and rushed to the doors. Drawing them open, her heart sank.

A young woman with Dalish tattoos not unlike the Inquisitor had once worn stood silhouetted in the dreamy shimmer of the elven mirror. She wore the colorful, gilded leathers that Vivienne had come to recognize as one of the Veil Jumpers.

Looking only a little shaken, the Veil Jumper announced, “Correspondence for Grand Enchanter Vivienne de Fer.”

Masking a disappointment that she would not name, Vivienne replied coolly, “I am she.”

“Then this is for you,” she produced a folded letter addressed to Vivienne with a shaky, childish penmanship.

Rook.

Vivienne broke the seal and skimmed the note. There was no mention of Neve, but the child who called herself the leader of the Veilguard yet lived, and the ‘god’ Ghilan’nain was dead. There was hope.

“What is it?” Leliana asked, drawing nearer.

“A council of allies is being called to the Lighthouse in the crossroads,” Vivienne replied, “To plan a final assault on Elgar’nan’s seat of power, to which I have been invited, as Grand Enchanter of the southern Circles.”

“Do you wish to send a reply,” the Veil Jumper asked, adding an awkward, “My Lady.” This one had obviously only ever heard of court.

“You will go, obviously,” Leliana said.

“You assume much, your Radiance,” Vivienne countered, “My people need me, here.”

“Your allies up north are going to assault the throne of a god,” Leliana stepped closer. Her playful lilt had been replaced by the steel of a spymaster. “They need you! Maker, Thedas needs you! They need us, the whole White Spire.”

“But—“

“I will not be interrupted, Grand Enchanter,” Leliana’s hair fell freely around her face in the privacy of their rooms, but all the regality of the sunburst throne hung on her countenance. “Your system of care for the refugees here can practically run itself, and what cannot, I will see to. The mages, templars, and any others who would wish to fight this new world order deserve a chance to do so. Your eluvian crossroads and ‘council of allies’ provide the chance to do so. Would we not regret giving all we could to save this world we love—who we love—if our help could tip the balance from defeat to victory?”

Breathless, Vivienne’s heart raced. She pushed away the memory of a Tevinter woman’s wry smile, those lips on hers.

“If that is what the Most Holy decrees,” Vivienne dipped her head in a bow. It was a show for their visitor, of course, but perhaps just the reminder she needed.

“It is.”

“Then,” Vivienne turned back to the messenger, “Please inform dear Rook that she can expect my presence as soon as I assess our resources and settle matters here.”

The Dalish woman gave a shaky smile of relief. “I will convey your reply.”

“And we will make ready.” Vivienne waited until the messenger retreated back into the Eluvian to lock it up again.

There was much to do, but—

I’m coming. Neve, I’m coming.

[unrelentingforse]

No, Caitlyn is not a fascist

As time passed after the ending of arcane I've come to realise that labelling Caitlyn Kiramman as a "dictator" is plain wrong and it heavily mischaracterizes her as a person who was so clearly manipulated by a woman in power.

Arcane writers have done everything they can to explain to the fandom that the gas was mostly used on chembarons and their goons. Obviously other people were caught in the crossfire and got poisoned from the gray, but this is nowhere near what the nazis were doing. And it is also NOT a valid reason to call her "KKKiramman"

Yes, she created checkpoints. Yes, she wanted Singed to be put in a dungeon. But - let's be real right now - she didn't do that out of her hatred for the poor people of Zaun. She did it because she wanted to avenge Jinx. All of her actions are caused by her grief, hate, guilt and loneliness.

You can argue that if she wasn't a fascist then she wouldn't do any of it and would've given up her power. But this actively ignores the grief she's going through. And also completely ignores the definition of fascism. What was she supposed to do? Just give up all of her assets and power when she was at her lowest? Beg on her knees for forgiveness? Just forget that her mother died a horrific death and forgive Jinx for everything?

Caitlyn actively despised how she was seen. Here's some quotes from S2:

When talking to maddie she said that she never thought this operation would go for so long. She didn't seem happy or malevolent about it - which would be true if she hated zaunites so much as you guys are painting her.

When Ambessa came to her Caitlyn accused Rictus of inciting violence against zaunites (after she became "the fascist dictator")

In the same dialogue said that there needs to be a reason to arrest someone.

Again, in the same dialogue - "Why is peace always the justification for violence?".

Actively acknowledged that she was manipulated and used as a pawn by Ambessa when she was talking to Vi.

No, her throwing that wooden boat is not abuse. I genuinely don't know HOW this is a real argument.

6. "Hating you...I've hated myself"

7. "No amount of good deeds can undo our crimes!" is the biggest one. She didn't say this about Jinx - she said it about herself.

I could go on and on listing you quotes from S2 but to be frank - this is not how character development works. You don't just say a bunch of words and magically become "better". You change how you act. And you don't magically become "worse" when you say something heinous.

Most of you have the ability to see nuance in Jinx's character. Why isn't the same for Cait? Is it because you just agree with her? Is it because you divide "good" and "bad" people by whether or not they agree with you?

What about Cait giving up her seat at the council for Sevika? What about her fighting her mentor just for the freedom of the people she supposedly hates? What about her asking zaunites to fight alongside her? What about her ratting out everything about Ambessa's defense in viktor's village AS SOON as she gets support from Vi and Jinx?

Obviously in real world it would seem that I argue for the "both sides" bullshit. I am not. And I really don't want you to think that I'm acting as superior because I'm able to see nuance in Caitlyn's arc. I want to show you that it is REALLY REALLY important not to dehumanize your enemies. Because

when you dehumanize nazis YOU BECOME ONE!

You NEED to be able to see them as humans so that you can see yourself in them and correct that. So that you see your friends and family in them. Because so many people realize they were living with racists/homophobes/transphobes/antisemites/bigots in general for their whole life only when the elections come. I want that to stop. And you can begin to do that by watching arcane one more time and not basing your opinion on something as fragile and unstable as a public opinion.