#and he deserves all the attention and credit so. The Link

[jichanxo]

this is from renall's Some Kind of Sunny Little Dream which is a side story to his other umineko fanfiction, Redaction of the Golden Witch, but can also be read as a standalone. it's very good and it's free and you can read it right now

[marvelstan0905]

Random Kenji Sato Boyfriend Headcanons:

TW : fluffy/slight angst/ idk what else lmao

©all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.

"Small Gestures"

Kenji is the king of small gestures. This man be peeling your oranges. Feeding you. If you have your menstrual days, Kenji keeps a stack of pads, wet wipes, tampons and clean menstrual cups everywhere and in the car. Kenji is the type to keep notifications on when you have your days or when your ovulating [do with that information what you will😈]

"Communication"

We all know what happened in the movie. We all know that Kenji rarely cries and he holds in his feelings till eventually he kinda bursts. With you, yes you, the best partner, you'd kinda have to coax it out of him. Get him to tell you what's bothering or what's wrong. It would take a lot of patient and understanding. Kenji would really try is damndest to communicate despite his habits.

"Intimacy"

Kenji would be really patient and understanding when it comes to sex and intimacy. The man would praise and worship you all night. We all know this man would be the type to pin your hands above your head and make you look into his eyes. I definetly feel like a Kenji is a hard dom/brat tamer kinda guy. I can definetly see the daddy kink coming. He's definetly an equal giver and receiver. Man's is definetly kinky and I definetly feel like he'd very open to try anything, long as he's in control. And his aftercare is top tier. The hot bath and cuddles with loving affirmations.

"Love & Marriage"

Don't know why, Kenji gives off 'dating to marry' vibes. The man's been distant with everybody, keeping people away at an arm's leg but after finally finding that perfect person. Kenji is all the way. He's commited. Forever. As in you won't shake him off ,even if you try [you wont😑]. He's the most loyal sweetheart and baby ever. Hurting our man here is like killing a puppy. Don't do it. I feel like he'd dead deadass get a tattoo with your name and the date of your birthday. That's how commited he is.

"Chivalry"

I'm talking opening doors, sliding out chairs. Kenji will hold your hand when you go down the stairs and when you're sitting down just to make sure you're safe and make sure you sit nicely. If you wear a skirt and it's cold, he'll lay his jacket on your legs. If you're cold in general his jacket is yours. His arms are yours. He just wants to make sure you're warm and happy. God forbid, it rains. Kenji won't even allow you outside because he doesn't want you to get cold but if you were already outside. You'd have most of the umbrella.

"Clinginess & Attention"

Clingy. He'll never ever let you go. Once you're his, you're trapped and commited [a dream ,really😌] Kenji would always find some time of way to be touching you. Somehow. His pinkies linked with yours or you're feet are touching. He just needs the contact. He's a clingy, baby. He needs your attention and love. He's been deprived🥺 give him the attention he deserves.

-What do you guys think? I've decided to open up requests but they'll be open starting 26 June at 5PM [MT ] up until 28th June 1PM [MT].I don't want to be overwhelmed or swapped!I've been feeling a little burned out nowadays hehe so I need to recuperate! Speaking of requests, If I don't feel like I can do it or it's just something I'm not comfortable with ,I will delete your ask! I'm sorry! Thank you so much for the love and support!

Gif credit @soranatus

[library-ghoulette]

Now There Is Nothing Between Us

Pairing: Copia (Papa Emeritus IV) x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: second person POV, established relationship, VHS and chill, their first time, my kink is being loved and wanted, crying, reference to past heartbreak, hurt/comfort, discussion of sexual fantasies, pillow princess!Reader, oral sex (f receiving), handjob, p in v sex, coming inside (please fuck responsibly), Copia being tender, Copia fucking the self-doubt right out of you

Words: 2435

Summary: Anxieties about your first time with Copia rear their head at the worst possible moment, but luckily he knows just how to ease your fears.

A/N: I wrote this because I was stressing out about writing sex scenes for the first time in a long time, and I thought it might help to have my favorite Papa sweetly talk me through it. This was supposed to just be for me, but I'm sharing it for anyone else who needs a therapy session with their smut.

ao3 link

divider by @gothdaddyissues

“Amore mio, what’s wrong?”

The question takes you by surprise. You were mid-kiss when Copia pulled back, his mismatched eyes searching yours with concern.

“N-nothing’s wrong,” you stammer, reaching for him again, eager to pull him back in, keep his mouth occupied, so he can ask no more questions.

But he stubbornly avoids your advances, catching your hands in his and holding them between the two of you, restrained. He settles onto the pillow beside you, face-to-face.

“You think I know you so little that you can lie to me?” he asks. “That I can’t feel it when you’re all stiff?”

He pulls his shoulders up and grimaces in a comically horrified expression that makes you smile in spite of yourself, but still you say nothing, merely look down at where he holds your hands clasped in his much larger, much stronger, ones. He runs a reassuring thumb over your knuckles.

It was supposed to be a special night. At long last, it was supposed to be the night.

The two of you had gone from stealing glances at one another in the halls of the Abbey, to sharing friendly movie nights where you sat on opposite sides of the couch, both too timid to make a move, to significantly friendlier movie nights that devolved into heated kisses long before the end credits even rolled.

Each night, there would come a moment where the kiss would break, when a heavy pause descended and there came an unspoken question that you knew you had to answer.

Every night before, the answer has been no. You would remark on the lateness of the hour and go back to your own room. And there you lay awake, burning with thoughts of all of the things you could have done if only you had stayed. All the places where Copia could kiss you, could touch you, as you touched yourself.

But not tonight. This time, when that silent question made itself known, the answer had been yes. You had stayed, followed Copia to his bed, let him lay you down with a gentleness that spoke of brutal desire barely contained. Pressed yourself against him, returned his kisses, helped him shrug out of his sweatshirt and pulled his T-shirt over his head with obvious eagerness. You had thought that you were doing well, doing it right.

Apparently, you had been wrong.

Great. Now you’re on the verge of tears. Very sexy. Definitely not a surefire way to spoil the mood.

Copia is still looking at you, his unpainted face soft, searching, utterly open. You don’t deserve his attentiveness, his care. It makes you want to hide.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” He kisses your knuckles. “You are maybe having second thoughts?”

“No! No, I– I really want to do this.”

“But something is bothering you. And we’re not doing anything until you tell me what that is. Until we fix it.”

Why does he have to be like this? Why can’t he just let it go? 

“Tesoro, you can tell me anything. You know this.”

Copia has never given you a reason to distrust him, has never judged you or made you feel silly for any of your anxieties. Still, you struggle to put this into words. 

“I don’t know. I’m just a little nervous, I guess?”

I sound so dumb.

“It’s okay to be nervous! Is this…”--he casts about for a tactful phrasing–”your first time?”

Satanas, it just gets worse and worse.

“No, it’s not my first time. But it’s been… awhile.”

“What’s the saying? Something about riding a bicycle?”

But in truth, it’s more than just the fact that it’s been awhile. Things did not end well with the last person you chose to share yourself with. 

You’ve worked so hard to heal from that relationship, not reinventing yourself so much as peeling back layers of hurt, finding yourself again bit by bit. You’re better now. But even after all of that healing, after finding your place here with the Ministry, after the wonderful surprise of falling for Copia, the scars of the past have a way of lingering.

Maybe the deepest of those scars is the lingering suspicion that no matter what you do, no one will ever truly want you or love you again. And worse, that you can’t trust anyone who claims that they do.

“It’s just.. I’ve imagined this so many times, and I guess I’ve gotten a bit too in my head about it. Wanting it to be perfect. And I’m afraid of doing something wrong. Of not”--and here’s the heart of it, the scary, vulnerable thing that you don’t want to admit–“of not being good enough for you.”

And now you are crying, when all you wanted to do was fuck your boyfriend like a normal person.

“Oh, topina.” Copia pulls you close, rolling onto his back to nestle you snug against his chest. “How could you ever think that you’re not good enough?”

“But you could have anyone you want,” you sob.

“You flatter me,” Copia chuckles. “But say that is true. I can have anyone I want. And where am I right now?”

“Here?”

“Yes, here. And who am I with?”

You sniffle. “Me?”

“Yes, you. And there is no one else I would rather be with. You are so precious to me. I feel lucky to have you in my bed.”

Your heart flutters at his tender words.

“And what I want, more than anything, is to make you feel good. To give you the pleasure that you deserve.”

Something considerably lower flutters at that.

“Copia…” 

You wriggle out of his grasp and pull yourself up onto one elbow, one hand resting lightly on his chest as you bend to kiss him again. 

When you break away, he thumbs a stray tear from your cheek and insists, “But I only want to do that if you’re comfortable. So you have to tell me if something makes you uncomfortable, yes?”

You nod down at him. “Yes, Papa.”

He groans low in his throat at your cheeky use of his title, the sound stoking something low in your belly.

“You said that you have been thinking about this night for a long time, tesoro?” 

His hand, resting against your hip, grips you tighter, drawing you closer against him. When he speaks, his words resonate with a note of command. 

“Tell me what you’ve imagined. Tell me how to make this perfect for you.”

This should be mortifying. It should, more than anything else he’s said tonight, activate your urge to run away, to hide. It’s been so long since you’ve really given yourself permission to want, to desire, much less to voice those desires full-throated, absent of shame. You’re so afraid of sounding silly. Of being too much.

But you can tell how turned on he is by you, by the way that your body feels pressed against his, fuck, by the very thought of you entertaining filthy daydreams about him. He wants you. Just as much as you want him.

And so, you push past the shame you have no need to carry any longer, that you never should have been made to carry at all.

Even if you stammer at first. Even if you don’t sound as confident as you wish you did. You find your voice.

“I– I’ve thought about you touching me?”

Copia brings a hand up to caress your face, tracing a feather-light line from cheekbone to chin. “Here?” he asks.

“Lower,” you reply.

“Ah.” His hand trails lower, making you shiver as his fingers skirt along your neck, your collarbone, before finally cupping your breast through your top. “How about here?”

Your mouth falls open in a gasp when he squeezes gently, his thumb sweeping across your nipple. Almost as an afterthought he wedges one thigh between your legs. Even through fabric the contact sends a pulse straight to your core, and you can’t help but grind against him with a whimper.

“What do I do next? In your fantasies?”

“You take off my clothes.” You’re desperate to feel his skin on yours. “And– and you lay me down on the bed.”

He flips you over effortlessly and takes his time undressing you, carefully undoing each button and zipper, revealing your body bit by bit with utmost tenderness. When he hooks his fingers over the waistband of your panties and pulls the silky fabric down your hips, your legs, exposing you completely, he does so with what could never be mistaken for anything but reverence.

Your legs fall open naturally and Copia kneels between them, resting his hands on your thighs, awaiting instruction.

“And now?”

You know that you can have anything you want, but only if you ask for it.

It’s everything you can do to keep your voice steady when you say, barely above a whisper, “And then you go down on me.”

“With pleasure, amore.”

Copia settles himself between your thighs and presses a hand against your mound, firm and grounding, acclimating you to his touch before spreading your lips with skilled fingers and bringing his mouth down to meet your slit. He runs the flat of his tongue up through your slick folds, lapping up your arousal. When you look down at him, he meets your gaze and flicks his tongue over your clit, smirking when you blush and cry out in pleasure.

And then he begins his work in earnest.

You had imagined that it would be good, but your daydreams left you unprepared for this level of skill, for how he would relax into the task before him with a patient eagerness, savoring you, taking the time to bring you ever closer to your peak. 

“Fingers,” you beg, barely coherent, “I need your fingers, please, please, Copia– oh!”

He finds your entrance and presses a finger inside of you, never losing the rhythm of his tongue tracing tight circles around your clit. You’re soaked, and it slides in and out with ease, and it feels so good to have any part of him inside of you, even before he pulls out and then presses back in with another digit, crooking his fingers up to find that spot deep inside of you, hitting it just so as he sucks your nub between his lips, and you’re crying out and twisting your fingers in his hair to pull him closer, and–

Your orgasm overtakes you ruthlessly, wave upon wave of pleasure breaking over you, leaving you a gasping, trembling mess in its wake. Copia crawls up your body to kiss you, letting you taste your own musky sweetness on his tongue.

“Do you want to hear what I’ve been thinking about?” he asks.

You’re unsure of your ability to speak, but you nod eagerly. You’ve never wanted to hear anything more.

“I’ve been thinking about your hands.”

“M-my hands?”

“Sì, your beautiful hands. And how good they would feel wrapped around me.”

How could you do anything in that moment but oblige, reaching down to free him from the confines of his red sweatpants. His cock springs free, what seems almost painfully hard, and you watch with satisfaction as you pump your fist up and down his thick length and pleasure nearly overtakes him. Eyes squeezed shut, he’s clearly struggling to hold back, to stop himself from rutting into your soft palm and coming right now. 

“I’ve also been thinking about your pussy, dolcezza,” he pants. “How good it would taste. How pretty you would look playing with it for me. But mostly what it would feel like to spread it open and fuck it until you come around my cock.”

“Yes, please,” you beg, feeling as though you might die if you don’t get to feel him inside you right now.

The stretch is deliciously intense, even as wet as you are, prepared by his fingers and his tongue. He works himself into you inch by careful, patient inch, until he bottoms out with a groan.

“Is this okay?” he asks, and you nod your assent, whimpering a “yes” as you wrap your legs around his soft waist, urging him on.

You open more and more with each slow, shallow thrust that becomes faster, deeper. There is no room for your self-doubt anymore, no thought to spare for anything that isn’t Copia: his weight on top of you, his mouth against the side of your neck, the scent of his cologne mingling with the salty tang of sweat, the overwhelming pressure of his cock inside of you. 

He murmurs your name with what sounds like wonder, like disbelief that you want this and that you feel so fucking good.

And then he rolls his hips just so, finding an angle that grinds his pelvis into your clit, making you cry out sharply.

“Just like that,” you beg him, breathless, “please don’t stop, please—“

And then you are coming apart again, your head thrown back and your pussy spasming beyond your control.

It’s almost too much for him. He rears back from you, gathering you more firmly in hand, tilting your hips up and gripping your ass to hold you in place as he fucks into you, hard and rough. You’re still reeling from your orgasm as his pace becomes erratic, desperate, and with a sharp snap of his hips his cock kicks inside of you, filling you utterly.

He pulls out and collapses beside you with a sated groan, forearm thrown over his eyes as he comes down, chest heaving, spent cock softening against the curve of his belly. You fold yourself in under his arm, head pillowed against his chest again in a semblance of how you lay earlier as you cried. But now all you feel is love, comfort, and the pleasant soreness creeping through your lower body.

“Well, tesoro…” He settles his arm around you, tracing lazy circles on your skin with the tip of his finger. His voice is unspeakably fond when he asks, “Was that everything you imagined?”

It wasn’t, of course. Your daydreams hadn’t started with you crying awkwardly in his arms. In your daydreams, everything had run as smoothly as a scene in a novel, you the assertive heroine who always knew exactly what to say, without any help.

But maybe, you think, if Copia is the one helping you, that’s okay. Maybe you don’t need to be anyone but yourself, sometimes awkward and insecure, but no less beloved.

And so you are telling the truth when you say, “No. It was better.”

[bloomingskyward]

THERE’S A WAY TO BREAK DEMISE’S CURSE

HEY, so if you’ve been invested in the Legend of Zelda games for forever (like I’ve been), I need you to watch this video essay about Demise’s curse by Hylian Dan. Whether you loved or hated Skyward Sword, Hylian Dan did an incredible job analyzing the story from multiple literary perspectives (while actually citing his sources in a bibliography!), and he makes a powerful argument about how Skyward Sword has quietly revealed an escape from Demise’s curse, and how the answer might have been foreshadowed throughout the entire game. 👀

Authorship credit for the video cause I’m just resharing it: Hylian Dan is a former staff writer for Zelda Universe, and also wrote a viral essay on the deeper meaning behind Majora’s Mask years ago. He also has a bachelor’s degree in game design (and worked for Disney as a writer!) along with a master’s degree in theological studies. He’s also made a wonderful video essay analyzing the literary themes in Link’s Awakening, which have carried over into Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom. I really recommend following this guy because he’s not just talking out of his ass–he’s educated, doing his research, and actually cites his sources consistently (something I wish all video essayists did more often). 

I've been following his work for a little while now and his videos deserve WAY more attention for the sheer level of quality he puts into these videos--so please give it a watch!

[filmofhybe]

airport buddies.

🥥 pairing : ot7 x oc! 8th member of enha • GENRE : fluff

WARNING: mention of food , crowding , pushing , Profanity

; AUTHORS NOTE : sudden thought of me being the 8th member of enhypen hit my brain while watching Golden Disc Award. And obviously credit to @srjlvr bc her 8th members works inspired me!

MASTERLIST TO MY OTHER WORK

정원 jungwon

as one of the members in the hyung line, jungwon as the leader, still keeps his eyes on you as fans would be crowding you guys despite them keeping a distance. Because you guys was once mopped at the terminal before and you got really injured, he would tell you to grab onto his bag as you walk towards the exit. He would sometimes tell you to link arms with him, and these sweet moments are captured by fans, speaking up about how attentive jungwon is about previous situations and how he cares about his members safety. You feel really safe around him and your glad he’s taking care of you. (You would also guide him through the crowd if it gets to chaotic.)

“y/n hold onto my bag so you don’t get lost.”

“wonnie I’m fine trust me.”

“no I don’t trust the crowd after what happened. You deserve to stay safe around me.”

“If you insist, but one day I would need to stop doing it because you won’t be with me.”

“DONT GO ALL SAD NOW.”

“IM NOT IM JUST SPEAKING THE-“

“you both shut up please I’m too tired for this argument every damn time.” Your manager chuckled as he watched both of you having the “I need to keep you safe!” Argument every time before stepping out of the terminal.

희 승 heeseung

He treats you to food before you guys board the plane. He knows your morning temper is horrible, having to wake up in early in the morning to get to the airport, than having to deal with flashing cameras before checking in already made your day ten times worse. So when you guys are waiting to bored the plane, he will treat you to something sweet, like a chocolate cookie along with a blueberry muffin. Or just anything you want. He cares about your health especially your body is still growing. (Sometimes you would reject his offer, however he would still buy it just in case you start complaining about how hungry you are on the plane)

“y/n~ let’s go get food shall we?”

“I would love to but I’m tired…” you sigh as you cuddle into your hoodie more, keeping yourself warm.

“come on, let’s go get some food before boarding, you can pick whatever you want.” He smiled as he noticed you jump out of your seat after what he said.

Walking towards a small café, you picked out a cookie and a refresher. Heeseung picked something for each member and himself before paying everything. He watches you munch on your cookie, smiling once again to know that all he needs to do to make you happy is food.

박종성 Park Jeongseong

MR DRAGS YOU ALONG TO SHOP. He’s the person to shop at those designer shop before boarding in his spare time. Even though he has good style, he would always drag you along with him. He thinks you giving him opinions about what he should get makes his purchases worth it. Like he had said before “y/n has better taste than I do, people may not admit it but she really does. I’m glad she is always willing to come shopping with me.” Despite you being so tired, you still enjoy walking around with him. You guys usually come out with around 3 bags of stuff. Fans always assume you both have some spending problem at the airport 😭

does this sweater look better than the other?” Jay placed the black sweater in front of him, holding the other color beside him as he switch in between the two.

“I like the navy blue more. It suits you better… it also matches the Prada sunglasses I got you.” You suggested as you grab the navy blue sweater. Placing in front of his torso.

“Nevermind i agree with you. My jawline stands out more.” He smirks, before trying to escape from your slapping.

“We get it park jeongseong you have sharp ass jawline now get your sweater.”

“Jesus Christ I enjoy shopping with you BUT NOT YOU HITTING ME?!?”

심재윤 Sim Jaeyun

The “I can’t stop gossiping” duo. Oh my gosh you both just can’t stop yapping the moment you step out of the van. Is like you guys are high school best friends talking about the latest gossips. You guys would link arms and whisper into each others ears, but laughing extremely loudly after what you heard from the other. Is the media pressed about your interactions? Sometimes (because they can’t take good pictures of the group without you both not talking) however they enjoy watching you both laughing your ass off to whatever your laughing about at 5 in the morning.

“no because I heard that he’s really bad at singing..” Jake whispers as he links his arms with you. Leaning into you as he tries to tell you the latest updates on the entertainment industry.

“No way I thought she was good enough to make it..”

“bitch he was like iM sUpER sHyYYy iM sUpeR sHY.” Jake intimates whoever he was talking about, making you both burst into laughter behind all your members. The members were confused on the sudden laughter. Who on earth laughs this much at 5 in the morning with camera flashes in their face.

“But who are we to judge…? I mean he tried at least.”

“Stop we can’t be rude at least he tried…”

“Keyword tried..”

The ones to say they shouldn’t be judging after gossiping about it😭 just too unserious

성훈 Sunghoon

The matching fit duo. You both somehow always have matching airport fits. Making favs believe you guys did it on purpose (sometimes). But both of you never complain about it. Because of how good both your stylist it, fans always try to take lots of pics of you when you guys are standing next to each other. But sometimes it’s the opposite, you would accidentally wear his shirt while he is uses your bag. And fans loves how you guys share each others items for time to time. (Ps. They love to question you guys.)

“y/nnie!! Where is your bag from?”

“I don’t know, sunghoon got it. It was the first bag I saw so I took it. I’m so sorry!”

“Is okay!! Sunghoon! Are you and y/nnie matching today?”

“We didn’t mean to match again today. It was by coincidence. Do you guys like it?” Fans started agreeing that they love your matching outfits. You both thanked them for noticing and were both flattered by how cute your fans are.

선우 Sunoo

THE SERVING CUNT DUO!! Because both of your age are really close to each other and you both have basically the same brain cell. You both constantly like to tease each other and laugh at each other. You guys do not care if it’s 12 at night that your at the airport, you guys would do the must random shit ever. Eg. A catwalk while linking arms, or writing on your phones pointing towards each other. “SUNOO SPILLED MY COFFEE.” “I DIDNT YOUR FOOT KICKED IT!!” Sigh the members are tired of you both but I guess they find it kinda funny as well.

“WHY ARE YOU TRYNA EXPOSE ME?!?” You asked sunoo as you watched the younger boy laugh at the message - “Y/N FORGOT TO WEAR SOCKS TODAY!!” On his phone. Ready for fans and media to see.

“YOU ARE EXPOSING ME TOO!?” he gasped as he reads yours - “SUNOO CRIED ON THE WAY HERE BECAUSE HE FORGOT HIS DITTO DOLL!!” You shrugged your shoulders as you quickly stepped out of the van before he can reach you.

Fans and the media captures this funny moment as your members silently laughs at how immature you both are. But they don’t complain at all.

にしむら りき Nishimura Riki

The mother and son duo. Being one of the oldest of the group, and you promising to take good care of Niki. You constantly make sure he is alright and his passport is kept safe with him. Fans starts taking notice that you would hold onto his passport after hd lost it once, and he is comfortable enough to hold onto your bag as you make your way through the crowd. Some even noticed that he would buy you medicine before boarding because he knows you get ill easily while traveling. Lots of people treasure your relationship dearly and they always appreciate how you take care of each other very well. (You take Care of other members as well but most of the time Niki because he’s the youngest.)

Fans and media captures a brief moment of Niki handing you his passport. “y/n can you hold onto my passport so I don’t lose it again?” He whispered beside you. Nodding as you take his passport into your hand.

He grabs onto your purse as you walked through the crowd of people. You would look back at him from time to time to make sure he is behind you. Grabbing his hand when it starts getting more chaotic. His grip is now tighter around you, you look back reassuring him that your here and he would be okay. “Niki is okay I’m here your fine. Your passport is safe as well don’t worry.” He can sense you smiling at him, even though your mask covers half of your face.

Fans was touched by both of your little interactions at the airport. Knowing Niki still relays on his older members even though he just turned 18. They know he is still a baby at heart and still need caring. And they thank you for taking care of him like he’s one of your owns.

© filmofhybe on tumblr — do not copy , translate or share.

networks ~ @kflixnet @k-films @/k-labels @k-neighborhood

[sissytobitch10seconds]

I think it's kind of interesting that Viktor is overshadowed by his siblings both in the canon and fanon.

In season one I could understand it. Despite Viktor being the main character that literally drives the entire plot, everyone focuses on the other characters. People make fun of Luther for talking about the moon all the time. Everyone is almost creepily obsessed with Klaus and the Vietnam fling that he had. No one really talks about Allison, but her story is primarily linked with Viktor's since she's trying to heal their relationship (fandom misogyny too). I think that there's a decent amount of talk around Five since he's such a fascinating character. There's quite a lot of talking about Diego too, since he loses Eudora and spends a lot of time trying to take care of Klaus. But no one really talks about Viktor and the amount of shit that he goes through in s1. All the siblings other than Allison completely abandon him too, and Allison only wants the idea of a 'sister' that she's built up in her head since she lost her husband and daughter.

In season two, it makes even less sense to not talk about what Viktor has done. He has a queer love story with Sissy and we get to see way more development and chemistry for, Klaus and Dave had a montage and some sad lines from Klaus as opposed to an entire arc through ten episodes, but no one really does anything with it. Allison gets basically no attention for the same fandom misogyny issues as before. Five gets some attention because of the fact that he's exhausted and still dealing with the Commission (his fight scenes are amazing). Diego gets the same treatment as Luther did but a little more deserving because the plan to save JFK was stupid. Luther gets totally sidelined and ignored too, but people really hated him in S1 so I'm not surprised. Klaus gets all the attention again even though his plot outside of Ben possessing him is honestly really boring and makes me so uncomfortable.

Season three is where Viktor should have gotten the most attention. If we're considering the fact that the TUA fandom has a very queer audience, then they should be super excited and celebrating the fact that Viktor is trans. Not only that, but he's also working his ass off so that he can fix things for Allison and get her back to a timeline where her daughter exists or back to the sixties. I think a lot of people ignore that, giving Five more credit than he deserves for trying to fix the world when Viktor was doing that until Harlan showed up and he wanted to handle that first. A lot of attention during the debut went again to Klaus, which was actually warranted this time since he was plot relevant by showing us things about Reggie and discovering his powers. Diego got more attention since he was parenting Stan and fighting with Lila, which was nice. Five got some meme attention but nothing serious and Luther got a little bit of genuine love. But mostly people just posted the conversation where Viktor comes out to his family and continued to ignore him.

Now Season four is out and no one cares about Viktor. He stands up to Reginald and says all of the things that he needs to say, he fights like Hell to try and save Ben from the Durango and get him someplace stable, he owns a bar and got fucking KIDNAPPED. No one is talking about him, all people are doing is complaining about fivela and the ending.

Viktor moved to Nova Scotia probably to get better trans healthcare, but also because none of his siblings care about him. My man is a tiny trans man that got kidnapped and ransomed off the street and they couldn't care less about him when they show up, Five is taking notes about the room they're in instead of checking to make sure that his childhood best friend is okay. Luther may have made him best man at his wedding, but it was just because Viktor had only just come out and all the other siblings were non options (never been close with Five, butted heads with Diego who didn't even want the wedding to happen, not their Ben, and Klaus was officiating) which was the same reason Lila was Sloane's maid of honor. Diego and Viktor barely spare two words at each other despite their closeness in the comics. Lila and Allison say something briefly to him before they also fuck off further into the plot.

Viktor isn't liked by his family despite them trying to include him in it when it's convenient for them, and he's also disliked by the fandom. I went into the TUA tag and about half of the top twenty posts were about someone else with him tacked on as an afterthought.

[clockwork-ashes]

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part VI

Find Part I here :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge, huge thank you to the lovely @bettdraws who literally deserves all the credit and whose post inspired me to start writing this. I could not stop thinking about this head canon, and it was so kind of you to let me try and make a story from it :)

And a huge thank you to everyone reading!

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole

Part VII >>

Elain held tightly to Lucien’s arm, her fingers linked with his, her other hand clutching at his wrist. An anchor, his heartbeat a comfort as they were led down the winding halls of the ancient Forest House. 

Lucien looked entirely unbothered, hardly troubled now that he was no longer in the presence of his family. Elain asked herself how, considering she very much felt as though she had woken from a nightmare. Her thoughts were foggy, her knees shaking in relief with every one of her steps. Elain wanted to sob. 

Lucien’s thumb traced the curve of her knuckle and Elain breathed in deeply to calm her nerves. 

It was almost humiliating, being paraded past the Autumn guards stationed at every corner as she clung to Lucien. She had to remind herself that it was expected of mated couples to behave so attached, that she was not amongst human nobles that would judge her for any open affection that was displayed. 

Elain briefly wondered what Cora had done in her absence, and whether the other woman had been made aware of the change in their plans. Elain’s thoughts turned quickly, though, to what her sisters would say. Elain was sure that Nesta, more than Feyre, would be furious. 

Elain assumed she would have the Inner Circle’s complete support, but she could only guess at their displeasure with how the night had unfolded. 

Elain had told a High Lord that she was marrying his son, and she was only just beginning to realise the weight of such a promise. Elain felt her stomach flip, panic starting to creep along her spine. 

Just when Elain’s anxiety started to take root, Lucien’s hand gripped hers more tightly. Elain felt as he tried to reassure her through the bond, and her annoyance was enough to redirect her thoughts. 

The Forest House was strange and unlike any place she had ever been to. The rough stone walls were a warm grey, closer to the colour of sheep’s wool than to the cool toned rock she had become used to in Night. 

Elain was surprised to see all the wooden furniture considering all the torches, flames dancing and sparks falling but never setting anything alight. She walked by a couple elegant fireplaces set into the walls, but she saw no chimneys, no soot or ashes. 

Like the roots of an ancient tree, hallways connected and split off into different directions, an unnavigable maze. Elain wondered how anyone was able to find their way around. 

One of the guards shoved Lucien towards a flight of stone steps, urging him to turn. Elain frowned when she felt him tense, thinking perhaps he had been offended by the gesture. It was only as a voice rang out beside them that Elain guessed Lucien had scented someone’s presence. 

“Your services are no longer needed,” the words were rough, a demand. “I can take the prince and his lady to their shared suite from here.” 

Much to Elain’s surprise, the guards obeyed. In the time it took for them to leave, Elain had turned her attention to the new arrival.  

The man was handsome, Elain could admit. His short hair a more copper shade of red, his eyes a bright hazel. He was pale, like most of the people she had seen in Autumn, and he looked battle-worn. A slashing scar cut across his throat, just visible above the fabric of his jacket. 

Even if Elain had not just been in a room with Beron Vanserra, she would have still been able to see the resemblance between the High Lord and the man who so obviously was another one of his sons. She took a step beck, knocking into Lucien’s side. 

The man raised a brow, but other than a passing glance, he paid her no mind. His focus was on Lucien, the torches on the wall flared. Elain wondered if that always happened, if flames simply responded to those in Autumn, a reflection of their emotions.

“Where’s Eris?” He snapped, like he had no patience for either her or Lucien. 

Her mate’s shoulders were stiff. “Is the loyal dog looking for its master?” Lucien’s drawl was taunting, as though he was expecting a reaction from his brother. His words were obviously meant to offend.

Elain could feel Lucien’s shock flooding the bond between them when his brother merely shook his head. 

“You always did cause so much trouble, Lucien,” he frowned, looking very much like Eris. With a sigh, he angled his chin to the flight of stairs in front of them. “Follow me.” 

Not like they had a choice, Elain thought. She could feel as Lucien turned to look at her, to check in, but she stared at his brother as he led them to a pair of thick oak doors. His attempt to comfort her was appreciated, but Elain truly thought she could not look at him without her anxiety once more taking hold. With a wave of his brother’s beringed hand, the doors opened to reveal a cosy space. 

The fireplace was already lit, comfortable carpets covered the stone floor, and by the arched window on the room’s other side was a large bed, fit for two. Elain blushed, forgetting for a moment that Lucien and her were to be married, of course their shared suite would have only one bed. 

Elain watched as Lucien’s brother waved his hand once again, this time lighting the candles littered on some of the wooden tables and nightstands. “I hope the rooms have been set to your liking. Should you need anything, let one of the guards know.”

Elain spoke for the first time since having left the throne room, “My lady’s maid was with me, I was wondering…” She trailed off, unsure of what to say next. 

“I’ll let Eris know,” the Autumn prince offered. “I’m sure he’s thought of everything.” There was no bitterness to his words, only an acknowledgement of his eldest brother’s very thorough planning.

Elain dipped her head in thanks, but he had already begun to leave. Elain looked to Lucien as he watched his brother warily, and he hardly seemed surprised when the other man paused at the room’s threshold. 

“Congratulations to the both of you on your engagement,” he said flippantly, over his shoulder. Elain could hear a flicker of doubt in his tone, perhaps a suggestion that he was not entirely convinced by their act. She wondered if Eris had mentioned it to him, if they were close enough to have shared such information. 

Elain noticed the irritation that flashed in Lucien’s eye, how the other one whirred. “Thank you, Callum.” 

It was clear to Elain that there was bad blood between the brothers, and while she was curious, Elain also knew that it would probably be very rude to ask Lucien about it. She watched as Callum left, glad that she no longer needed to play the role she had given herself.  

The doors slammed shut behind the Autumn prince, and Elain promptly let go of Lucien’s hand. She already missed the feeling, but to reach for him would be like an admission of how she so often longed for his touch when he was near. She put distance between them, almost tripping on the edge of the carpet in her rush. 

“Gods,” she mumbled, running her fingers through her curls. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. Lucien’s scent, apples and summer mornings, lingered in the air. 

What have I done? 

Elain decided that she was a fool for coming to Autumn. She had no idea what she had gotten herself into, had been so desperate to save Lucien’s life that she had doomed them both. 

When Elain opened her eyes, she saw Lucien flexing his fingers, like the memory of her hand in his was enough to unsettle him. He had dark bruises along his jaw, clenched in what she thought was concern. There were blood stains, brown and aged, along the collar of his white shirt. A smear of dirt was on his temple and Elain could tell he had been treated poorly until she had come. 

Lucien was still the loveliest man Elain had ever seen, and she hated herself for believing it.  

“How in the hell did Feyre convince you to come for me?” Lucien asked, voice tired, like his own thoughts were weighing him down. 

Elain furrowed her brow, frowning at him. “Feyre?” She echoed, incredulous. 

At her question Lucien seemed to anger, only for a moment, before he spoke once more. “Rhysand, then, made you do this?” 

“No one made me do anything,” Elain hissed, keeping her voice down, remembering how careful Eris was with his words even when they had been alone. “I came for you because I chose to.” She was frustrated, angry that everyone assumed she could not make decisions for herself. It was with great effort that she kept her hands at her sides, that she did not begin pointing at Lucien with an accusing finger. 

“Why would you do such a thing?” Confusion and disbelief lingering in his words. 

“Because I felt like it,” she snapped, feeling very much like a child. Elain did not share with him that after so much death, so much change in the last few years, she did not think she could bear more. “And you should be thanking me, not questioning my motives.” 

Elain watched as he bent ever so slightly at the waist, the smallest of bows. He did not take his eyes off her as he said, “You have my thanks, Elain.” 

At the sound of her name falling from Lucien’s lips, Elain took a step towards him, the movement almost involuntary. “You shouldn’t call me that,” the impropriety of it all had Elain blushing, she attempted to tell herself that was why she could feel her heartbeat quicken. “You don’t have the right—”

“I think I do,” Lucien said with a shrug, “considering we’re about to be married.” 

It looked like he wanted to say more, but Elain interrupted. “It means nothing,” she was shocked at how snarled the last word was. “Nothing has changed between us,” her words held a finality to them.

Lucien ran a hand through his hair, “Not for one moment did I believe otherwise.” He sounded exhausted, Elain noticed. 

Briefly, Elain felt guilty for being upset with him.

Lucien shook his head, and as he spoke he did not look at her. “You shouldn’t have come to Autumn.” Elain could not say it with certainty, but she could have sworn fear leaked slowly down their shared bond. 

“Next time I’ll let you be killed,” Elain waved her hand dismissively. “What’s done is done, I can hardly tell your father I’ve changed my mind.” 

“I think we’re well past that,” Lucien confirmed. The silence between them was awkward, and Elain wished they had separate rooms, despite knowing it was for the best that they were together.

She could feel Lucien’s gaze on her, but Elain was looking at the comfortable armchair by the fireplace. She cleared her throat, “You take the bed.” 

Lucien did not argue with her, a testament to how utterly drained he must have been, Elain concluded. 

“Thank you, Elain,” he said softly, sincerely.

Elain was left with the impression that Lucien was thanking her for more than just the bed.

[emmaofnormandy]

~A Medieval Tale: The Rogue & His Lady. Part II~

Plot: Y/N is a damsel who captures the heart of a rogue, misunderstood prince named Aegon Targaryen in 14th century England… with no civil war to disarray the family.

It’s fluffy, very mediæval like; smut; long post.

(+21)

***

Even sun sets in paradise.

Clouds rumble in the skies, a sign of storm, a bad omen to all those who fear the ire of the divine. Many were the peaceful years of King Viserys’s reign. Some would incline to judge this monarch as fool, others, wise, good even.

Whatever epithet this king deserves, it goes to wind, blown away by the first evidences that peace is yet to be supplanted by something worse. What might that be… is yet to be found out.

With the sun eclipsed, new events are setting stage. Aegon and you are forced to be apart by these circumstances and you fear to remain a shadow in his memory, praying to the divine that he does not forsake you .

On his part, this redeemed prince has renewed his vows to you. But he’d come to find that easier is said than done for his attentions are required elsewhere. Demons are coming out to reclaim his soul and he’s the target of evil again.

Indeed, to be surrounded by such creatures requires an inner strength that a fragile faith cannot knock down. Here, Aegon finds difficult to shake ‘em off.

Oh why Lord hast thou forsaken me?

Masking his pain, his porcelain skin turns to ivory. Sweet Prince is now a king… who faces the opposition of partisans who threaten to replace him with Rhaenyra.

Where there is smoke, there is flame. And someone might get burnt.

You, despite yourself, feel inclined to let be consumed by these unnatural flames.

Already pained by how politics are preventing one to find the other, you swallow your pride and discreetly search for him.

Aegon is found in secretive talks to Lord Daeron, his brother and councilor, who thinks best to marry off his sister in order to prevent political troubles that could arise in her state— and none seems to suspect, though, that the Lady Rhaenyra is holding the reigns of her life by taking her own uncle, Lord Daemon Targaryen, as her husband.

How bold, the scandalized court would whisper.

Part of shadows, you are invisible to the eyes of men—and to those of the women, too. For who are you if not part of a nobility that few are familiar with? Your family possessions may give them some credit, but no name, no blood, nothing… could commend you to His Grace.

The tentacles of the Devil hereby try to persuade you of your insignificance, thus trying to work against the designs of the Cupid by pushing you away from him, the one your heart desires.

To the most pious, though, this is read as an announcement of a heavenly battle for two lost souls. Which one is going to be the victor?

One could only pray to fight away such impertinent demons…

But a soul when linked to the other is prompted to recognize its other significant half… regardless the crowd that tries to part them.

Which means to say that His Grace’s lilac eyes find the y/c eyes of yours. So lost. Plagued by this intermittent chaos.

In silence, screaming for the lover stolen.

“Lady Y/N!”

The stunned group of councillors, and here his relatives are included, follow the cause of the king’s disrupted distress.

To many, the evident surprise in their faces when seeing it is you the very reason why Aegon II is more concerned to a damsel than politics may lead to that old superstition, understood as a sort of common sense, which places the blame of wrongs in women… simply because they are not obeying the natural orders.

Regardless, spotlight is on. The Cupid dances, the Devil threatens. Fate is about to play deadly its cards.

“I could not reach out for you. I pray you forgive me for being…”

Even if staying at the center of this stage is something you do not wish for, it is too late to storm out. Your destiny escapes your hands, it’s been woven by the divine. This is all you know.

“Do not apologize, lord. There is nothing to be forgiven for”, you smile, but Aegon sees sadness in your irises. “What can we do before duty? Should be me the one to ask you forgiveness for my meekness, my spirit so prompted to be passional…”

“I see nothing in you to be faulted for. Reason cannot conceive it. Lady Y/N, I aim to reclaim not your body, even if it arises the desires of my flesh, but your soul, so only I before it can be whole.” He cups your face with his hands, in complete ignorance of his mother’s baffled countenance. “Even so, unworthy of thee as I am, take me not as king, but as a man.”

“Poet of mine heart”, you sigh, to the delight of the Goddess of Love who claps before this chaotic profession of most profound sentiments. “I could not refuse you, whether as a beggar, whether as a king. Likewise, my heart is yours to be commanded… despite my most inappropriate station.”

Aegon smiles and it is as if sun shines the brightest. To a general astonishment, the king loves. And such a love is above mortal, fable laws; above lust, inferior desires that have made no other victims than himself.

“I care naught about the laws of men, for I stand before them. My wife you will be, lady of this court, mistress of the realm”, says he in a tone that leaves no argument to it.

Devil is finally fought off. Victory is placed in the hands of Cupid. Heaven smiles below… even if skies remain grey still.

***

Nothing evokes a greater scandal than unexpected unions. Disregarding reason and every sensible advise, the king intends to make his word law of the realm.

All of this is suffice to say that making you his queen attracted great disapproval of the court. Something unseen since the days of Maegor the cruel.

But Aegon may be many things. Cruel he is not. And you are unlike any of his consorts.

Despite the gleefulness of finally being tied to Aegon, you know that working for peace is part of your queenship.

Therefore, days before the wedding you come after the dowager queen, lady Alicent Hightower. You hope to be as convincing as possible in arranging domestic peace, for you do this overall for the man you love—never forgetting, however, how uncommon this union is, out of the Targaryen inbred and hierarchically mismatched.

The redhaired lady, once praised for her piety and discreetion, who once possessed a crown over her head, welcomed you with distrust in her eyes—even if you see how queenly she is in manners. That is to reinforce the regal obligations one has… out of habit, perhaps, when dealing with others she is less… inclined to like.

“Madame the Queen”, you address her accordingly. “I thank you for welcoming your humble servant.”

Your speech definitely surprises the dowager queen. The lady Alicent has judged you as some sort of gold digger, who craved your nails in her son and whose manners were most undignified of Aegon—even if he is not, as she knows well, the great moral of her house.

However, when studying you, your modesty and meek speech, she realizes she’s been wrong. Not many could surprise Alicent Hightower, but you, Y/N Y/LN did.

“Please rise, child”, she softens towards you. “I am not a queen… not anymore.”

“One never ceases to be a queen, even if the crown is legated to another. You are the force behind this house, my lady. I would do harm to all of us if I only followed my heart.”

Wise move. Oh, this lady possesses a sharp wit. Certainly not like any of the mistresses Aegon had conquered to warm his bed.

And yet… hasn’t Lady Alicent been remembered of that heroine whom she admired, Isolde being the character’s name?

Though the dowager queen envied you for being who she aimed to be since the days of her girlhood, she is not unreasonable where you are concerned.

“I appreciate you come after me for that. I admit all of this caught me out of surprise, for little I expected seeing my son so besotted.”

You try smiling, charmingly if you dare.

“Indeed it has baffled me as well that the king considered me in high esteem. Unworthy as I am, I, however, feel likewise.”

“But you surely must be aware of his flaws”, the dowager queen could not help herself. You remind her of sweet Helaena, who, however, even in her sweetness had a driven force that led her elope with Aemond, her brother.

“I am, my queen. I do not love for the king he is, but for the man he is becoming. I too have my flaws.” The final card is yet to come… “Before the divine, we are inferior beings, all longing for redemption.”

The Queen smiles. You’ve succeeded in captivating her.

“This is very true. Sometimes… when we least expect, we come to learn that love sent from above is yet to redeem us all.”

From this day on, you and the dowager queen become close, perhaps occupying the vacant position left by the princess Helaena.

***

It is the ceremony day. Here you and Aegon are, lawfully married. A banquet is held on your honor, as well as tournaments are drawing high and low born men alike who spots in the jousts an opportunity to write their names in history.

Most want to be the lady Y/N’s champion, but you’ve already granted your favour to Lord Daeron, the king’s youngest brother, who used to be your childhood playmate.

As wine is poured in your silver glass, you and your lord husband speak as if there is just the two of you in a gold and green salon.

“I espoused you”, says he with his typical smug.

“Indeed”, you side smirk. “But I pray you are reminded daily that I was not any conquest of yours.”

“No”, he agrees, looking deep into your eyes as he takes your hand to his lips in a lingering kiss. “You are the redemption of a lost sinner, my lady.”

But this sweet, intimate moment is interrupted by Aemond’s boast.

“It appears”, he announces in his own way, “this is the moment we have all been waiting for. The bedding ceremony.”

You look away, crimson pink painting your cheeks all the whilst Aegon raises his eyebrows at his brother—though he’d indulge in lies if he didn’t admit he’d been looking to it. Perhaps too much for a man who until recently was slaved by his flesh.

*

A path of flowers follows your steps as the gentlewomen remove every piece of your green gown. Your carefully embroidered hair is now loose in your back and every jewel that embellished your skin is carefully removed.

Never before you felt so nude, so exposed. Specially under the cries and giggles of the ladies, some of which behave in what you judge to be somewhat in the old ways.

“Be merry, my dear. Today is the day your queenly duties begin”, someone tells you.

You smirk at them, but pay little attention to their sayings, detesting this exhibition. Until your mind suddenly goes blank before the view of perfection that stands right under your eyes.

Aegon Targaryen hasn’t seen you yet. Perhaps to drink away his nervousness, he downs his glass of wine. His hair is somewhat a mess, falling short down to his neck; but your eyes scan his muscles, perfectly shaped after years of sword training.

The lines of his body that reinforce his shape awake something different in you. And when he turns at you….

Your face goes instantly red.

“My queen”, and it doesn’t help you that he scans you with the eyes of a predator.

And you like it how he smirks and moves all the way to welcome you properly.

“You look beautiful like always”, his whisper is like a summer breeze, warming and cozy; his arms are like a fortress, strong and safe. “Do not shy away from me, my dear.”

He is right behind you, his arms snaking around your waist, thus involving you in between. His chin is resting over your shoulder, his lilac eyes staring at your heart-shaped face as he uses one hand to play with your hair all the whilst the other is resting over your belly.

“You are gifted with a beautiful out of this world. As a sinner, I should not dare to look at you, but because of my weakness, I have my feebleness exposed.”

“Oh Aegon, you are no man, nor king, nor something in between. You are above all, and as your subject I boldly commend myself to you.”

Speeches are silent from the moment his lips meet your skin and your mouth drops in an “o” right as you give in under his touch. His slender fingers caressing your belly, squeezing gently your waist before cupping your breasts make you experiment—truthfully this time—this dragon fire.

And you want to get burnt so desperately.

“Aegon…”, you moan softly, dropping your head at shoulders.

Sinful has never been so tempting. Where there is a flame someone is about to get burnt, and you place yourself willingly in this position, notwithstanding the morals of the Church against lust and the dangerous of having pleasure in marital bed—everything must be balanced.

You certainly do not feel condemned by any means when he’s kissing your neck and cupping your breasts; nor guilty when his tongue paces slowly towards your neck.

Aegon too revives his old self, though he is now controlling his lust, not the other way around. As when he lowers his right hand and through forest he finds waterfall in you, diving in you and together finding pleasure in sin.

“Oh yes”, he groans in your ear, pleased to please you. “Give yourself to me, my dear”.

When your gazes meet, you know it’s your end. You are doomed.

And Aegon, has truthfully been tamed.

***

As when sun and moon meet, so it occurs a significant event the moment your body meets his. When he holds your thighs and pushes within you, when he looks at you with a mix of love and lust… you know it’s nothing regular.

It’s supernatural.

Divine.

Like when Mars met Venus and in her he planted his seeds, so the king plants his in you.

When does profanity begin? When does sacred end? A line so fragile between extremes is yet to be traced.

But one gaze, one kiss… one bliss is enough to bring altogether what has ever been apart.

Victory thus falls upon the hands of the Cupid, and Heavens will too bless this unique match. No one could have foretold the plans of the divine… as no one could have fought them either.

***

• Epilogue.

The king sits on his throne, eyes glued on his dancing queen. A smile dances over his lips, some might say Lady Y/N is a witch.

A love for a crown?

A crown for love?

When all eyes are set on their offspring, doubts are quietened. A pair of twins is seen dancing with their mother, whilst another, the elder and heir, is found by his father’s side.

All is well that ends up well… with you.

Aegon smiles. Against all wishes, the peace he provides. And he rises, uncontestedly victorious.

Their family is yet to grow further, with Lady Y/N, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, mothering at least ten more children. Their lives will last… until spring comes and summer passes.

During the autumn of life, when marriages thrive, you outlive your husband only to see Jaehaerys II with Jaehaera by his side.

Thus it is how this Targaryen line survives…

[xekutozoren]

Dumb Doodlepad

idk, ish pretty random ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Some ideas I had in an AU where KH3 wasn't a mess, Sora didn't disappear, and our heroes go on missions in their local team headed by Master Aqua. Lea slept in and Naminé is fixing something behind the scenes. That's the excuse I'm going with for them not being in the group shot. - 3- And Sephiroth's there. Bc this is the Aquaroth AU keke

I had originally planned to do fully coloured pieces for all of these but just lost motivation along the way and wasn't really enjoying it. But I also didn't want to just let them sit there so this is what you get.

This is Kairi admiring byootiful and graceful Master Aqua. Aqua deserves more in-verse recognition in general, the poor thing. Despite Kairi getting pretty much screwed over by the games, she was at least made out to be super important.

I don't know if anyone pointed this out but this was my first reaction to hearing Aqua's theme. I thought Square Enix was gonna do something cool and link the two characters somehow but they didn't even interact so... lost opportunity. Again. I also just realised Roxas is way too tall here. Ah well, he's standing on a rock or something, idk

And finally, the two coloured pieces. Why am I putting them at the very bottom where people are less likely to see if they don't expand the post, you ask? Well, frankly, I don't think it makes much of a difference given my low note counts. :P

Some Ven and Aqua appreciation! Because Ven loves his blueberry mamma and could stand to show it more. There's also very little artwork of the two together so I felt the need to do something about that. I'm imagining him being clingy to her here after she starts to get more attention.

Aaaand my favourite piece!

Xion being a sweetie and wanting to befriend Sephiroth after noticing he's a bit of a loner when Aqua's not present. Her two bodyguards are behind her being dorks.

Thank you for reading and viewing all the way to the end~ \(>w <)

Credits for MMD backgrounds:

edRevolutionnaire

Square Enix & Disney

Vianesta

Hallow

[matan4il]

Watched Eurovision last weekend and tried to only pay attention to the music but oof, the Israel derangement was horrid. Were any of the other contestants nice to Eden or at the very least not total assholes to her because where's she's from? Please tell me someone was decent or even mildly professional.

Hi Nonnie!

I'm glad to tell you that there WERE people who were personally decent to Eden and the Israeli team, from what I've heard.

One of the parts that suck is that it feels like talking about it too loudly might bring those people into the line of fire. I can say that about myself, that while I was treated awfully by some people in fandom, I've had people be absolutely wonderful to me, and I've had to keep my mouth shut and not thank or celebrate them publicly, because that would have drawn the fire to them. They absolutely do not deserve that. And it sucks that I can't even be openly grateful. Same with the people friendlier to Eden, we Israelis have heard stuff, so we know of them and are thankful, but I don't think anyone has said anything too public, because no one wants to endanger them.

Still, I hope it's been long enough since the final, that we can safely share a few things. Also, I'll emphasize that most of this is hearsay, I can't verify any of it, because it wasn't published officially, this is just the stuff we hear.

The Israeli singer who grew up in and was representing Luxembourg was really lovely with Eden. Tali could have easily avoided ANY association with Eden, so I give her credit for not doing that. The German singer was the nicest to the Eden and Israeli delegation, and I also heard that Germany actually stood up for Israel when the EBU wanted to disqualify it, rightly pointing out the differences between this situation and Russia's ban. I heard good things about the Austrian singer as well, the Latvian, and the Georgian singer. There's probably more that aren't popping into my mind right now, but this is a start, and it's nice knowing kind people, who won't bully a 20 years old singer just because of her nationality, do exist, right?

Another part that sucks is that even some of the people who were nice backstage to Eden, were only willing to do so away from the public eye. I think the most extreme one is the 2023 runner up, Finnish performer Käärijä. He ran into Eden backstage and was totally cool with them doing a short, quick rendition of his ESC song together (which you can see in the link below). It was clearly just two people who love music having fun together, but once the vid was posted online, people started attacking him for supporting genocide (because that's not a leap of logic at all), and he quickly put out a message denouncing everything he's said and done ever, including being born. Then he just had to reassure all of his bullies that he's "okay" even further. The Norwegian 2023 singer who was supposed to deliver her country's jury results had already announced she won't as an anti-Israel measure, so when he was supposed to give the Finnish jury vote, he simply announced he won't, letting people make the connection, and figure out for themselves that it was an anti-Israel move.

Still I think you can take the ones who weren't loudly nasty to Eden, and assume most were nice enough to her privately, even if not publicly. To figure out who those probably were, on top of the ones I mentioned above, I'll just give a short rundown of the performers who were being awful about Israel to different degrees (so you can figure out who was at least decent by way of elimination): Ireland, Belgium, Switzerland, the UK, the Netherlands, Greece, Portugal, Lithuania, Norway, Finland, Slovenia, San Marino, Denmark.

I hope I helped... Have a good day! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[grandeoatmilklatte]

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[aechii]

₍₍ GiVE AND YOU SHALL RECEiVE ₎⁠₎

PAiRiNG ?! toxic!jude x toxic!blackfemreader

GENRE ?! angst

SYNOPSiS ?! jude thinks his nonchalance is acceptable, and finds no fault in it. but two can play at that game...

C/W ?! she/her pronouns used, unhealthy relationship, i made jude an asshole in this sorry not sorry, but he has regrets?, reader is just petty, break up *sobs*, reader deserves better

A/N ?! was gifted a prompt by @loadivine and it was love at first sight. i knew i had to write this fic immediately so all credit goes to them, thanks babeee ❤️ anyways, sit back and enjoy the hellish doings within a toxic relationship. hope i did it justice 🤗

~°~

[y/n] took pride, and found contentment in, the fact that jude didn't reside within the stigma of footballer, swearing by the truth and only the truth, finding no shame in being vulnerable and open with her as couples do.

so jude wasn't always like this. there was a time where the relationship was 100/100, both received and both gave love, found it much more beneficial to dissolve an argument as quick as it came into fruition. communication is key, and it was a virtue they both stood by, because at the end of the day, they lived together, and would have to conclude to a resolution anyways.

but now, [y/n] couldn't even consider jude as her boyfriend. couldn't look at the man that held a countenance so foreign and distant and proclaim that he was her's and vice versa. because frankly speaking, she felt vastly the opposite.

it was like jude was a dead weight, and she was forced to drag him along with all the other burdens that she had. the relationship now distributed at 0/200, [y/n] could slowly sense the demise of her patience, a ticking time bomb, but she knew she loved jude more than life itself, and letting him go- breaking up with him was heinous. unfathomable.

she was told, urged, to end things things with him. remembers crying to her sister the hour she came home from a night out with jude. they had both left the house with hands linked and returned without the other.

jude had found no wrong in the girl that had seemingly bonded her body to his all night, and when [y/n] had noticed, confronting him about it in the car, he turned a blind eye. offered no reassurance that whatever happened at the party was on the woman's own accord and that he wasn't to blame.

it was almost as if he enjoyed it.

"so how would you like it if a random dude followed me around the whole night, hm?"

looked at her as if he was listening, feigned attentiveness as he nodded calmly and said, "i dunno."

shrugged and began to recline his seat backward, sensing the crawling ache of sleep in his muscles. would rather doze off here than listen to his girlfriend rant about something he had no fleeting thought for.

he didn't have the intention to even talk to the girl outside the four walls of the grandeur hall. couldn't find it in himself to care about anything, really.

jude could hear the nipping anger as his girlfriend's eyebrows scrunch and she became more rigid.

"you dunno?"

"exactly what i said."

felt dumbfounded at his blunt response, as if he had physically forced tape upon her lips to keep her silent.

"you keep pestering me about shit that i couldn't give a flying fuck about, [y/n]. we are together, not me and her." voice had raised in attitude just an inch. riddled [y/n] in a horrid way and immediately snapped at him back.

"check your tone with me, jude."

"haven't done shit." his retort was quick and mortifyingly calm. remained with loosened flesh as he retreated into the cushioned car seat, closing his eyes.

"you're not going to sleep until we sort this out," [y/n] chastised. jude could honestly are less, though.

"watch me."

and she had indeed. looked on in disbelief as the man in front of her shut his eyes, arms enveloping his chest. whether to actual sleep, or to pull her leg, she didn't care. was completely done with everything to do with jude.

she hurriedly gathered her things in the car, muttering, "i'm so fucking done with your shit," before exiting the car with a vexed slam of the door. made the inconvenient but rather preferred idea to call an uber to her sister's house, which wasn't that much further from her and jude's. she would undoubtedly stay over for a night or two than look at the stranger she had called her boyfriend.

didn't have an ounce of care on whether jude got home safely or not. put her phone on silent as she sat at the back of the taxi, tears already permeating down her face. [y/n] could feel the stare of the driver from his mirror, but was too exhausted to reprimand him for his blatancy.

she didn't know what else she was expecting when she sought comfort from her sister. had heard all those words before, many a time, and although she knew her sibling was right, [y/n] couldn't muster up the courage to actually go through with it.

"it's either you settle all of this once and for all, or you break up with him."

she had wanted to laugh right there and then, remembering what had occurred when she had attempted to talk things out, a few nights before.

had asked jude to chat, to which he replied with a low, dismissive hum, it hurt more than she showed.

"jude."

his eyes didn't leave his phone, leaving his girlfriend frustrated. took matters into her own hands and snatched it from him, but received a minutely dazed jude, staring at his empty palm, sighing.

"what do you want, babe?"

the endearment sounded wrong, in all directions and in every twisted way. it made the girl scoff.

"babe? so now i'm your babe?" tone incredulous, [y/n]'s glare remained stitched to the side of jude's head.

he turned to her, face relaxed and composed, without a silver of care. found it within himself to feign the affection, however.

"what do you mean? of course you are! we haven't broken up, have we?"

it was not a question but rather a statement. urged to end the conversation right there and retreat to their room upstairs but [y/n] emanated persistence.

"well you're fucking acting like it," [y/n] retorted, "do you even care about me anymore?"

jude didn't think about his response, it was all habitual, second nature, " 'course i do."

his words triggered a disbelieving scoff from the girl beside him, "really?"

jude nodded and left it at that. picked at a curl in his fingers and started rolling it between his thumb and index.

his lack of reply irritated [y/n], face scrunched into an almost permanent scowl, "you're not even trying, jude! you barely acknowledge my presence or even talk to me. what the hell is wrong?"

shook his head and mumbled, "nothing."

"i'm not stupid, ju-"

interrupted by a man who, despite his laid back attitude, held so much vindiction. head slumped against the back of the sofa, eyes finding solitude in staring ahead rather than at the woman before him.

"maybe see that the glass is half full, and not half empty, [y/n]."

there's an inkling of dread, masked with confusion however, that stabbed the girl's heart at his insinuation. silently begged the heavens that what she thought is a product of stupid overthinking.

"what are you talking about?" wished it came out stronger and harsher, as intended, but only released as soft questioning.

"be happy that i'm still here- still with you. you're lucky."

if she had relayed his words to her sister, she knew she would've received a slap to the head. they were a flashing persistent warning sign that it was time to leave. that it was the beginning of the end. jude saw the relationship as [y/n]'s honour, something that would benefit her as long as she remained with him.

but this time around, [y/n]'s sister concluded her lecture with a sentence that had her younger sibling's mind scream fucking eureka!

"or you could do neither, and make him feel what you feel. return that energy, [y/n]."

+_-

jude couldn't conjure a reason as to why he had counted just how long [y/n] had been like... that.

he knew that something was off the second she had walked back in the house 2 days after their fight in the car. had not felt the rippling force of a slamming door, or the frustrated collision of keys upon wood.

everything was sedated. the vibe, especially, had plummeted down to a neutral level, and as much as it should've put jude at ease, he would've rather she had burst in, angered, than strolled in with not a vehement thought in mind.

but at that point in time, it wasn't anything he was deeply concerned about. pushed it in the back of his mind, just in case he had to retrieve it later, but everything came rushing back at an unforeseeable velocity that it gave jude whiplash.

on the scale of their relationship, [y/n]'s side seemed to have abandon more than half of its weight. as jude could slowly envision their sides levelling out as he began to plunge from his high, and she commenced her rise.

and then it became 0/0.

+_-

shamed him to say that it had been weeks since he has received any form of affection from his partner. it was baffling the first day he left the house the ritual kiss from his girlfriend. he may have not returned the sentiment, or said anything toward appreciating it, but he internally found it grounding. and without it, he feared a curse would come.

he was just about to leave for training, yet halted as he realised that he hadn't felt the remnants of his girlfriend's lips on his. turned around with a confused face and said, "no kiss?"

[y/n] had not lifted her attention from the phone in front of her, attentively watching a new episode of her current fave, "you'll be fine, jude."

"uh, no?"

she sighed, cocking her head as her face screamed apathy, "jude, you'll be late. just go."

still confused, jude left the house with the inkling feeling that things were to go downwards. yet kept the façade that he was unaffected, though he was palpably the opposite, and proceeded with the day. had thought that maybe she in a temporary sour mood, and things would turn around soon enough.

it never did.

+_-

"you're not listening to me, [y/n]."

the girl rolled her eyes lazily, "i hear you, jude. i'm just not in the mood right now."

the tv blared with another saturday night show, left jude severely disinterested, but [y/n] appeared invested.

"so when will you be all ears to listen to what i have to say?"

the girl shrugged and left his words unresponded to. annoyed, jude grabbed the remote from the sofa, shutting the tv off. heard [y/n] exhale exasperatedly, then felt his side of the couch dip as she arose from her seat.

"i'm going to bed then."

jude didn't give her time to step an inch away from her place, gripping her arm firmly as he spoke, "you're not going anywhere until we speak."

[y/n] began to maniacally chortle, and it slightly frightened the man behind her.

"oh, haven't i heard those words before."

realisation hit jude like a punch to the gut, and anger is the first instinct that overtook his thinking, "so you know what you're doing?"

"i'm not doing shit jude." yanked her arm out of the man's hold as she turned around to face him, "and leave me alone, for God's sake."

jude looked at his girlfriend incredulously, finding it hard to believe that the girl in front of him was acting unlike herself.

"speak to me, [y/n]," could hear the urgency in his tone but knew that there were more serious matters at hand, "we're a couple, we communicate."

"oh fuck off with that, jude," her words were visceral, eyes hardened into a seething stare.

"you didn't care when you were doing it to me, but now you know how it feels, all of a sudden, 'we communicate'."

the truth in her words left the boy dumb, looking at her helplessly as he tried to rummage his mind for words to say.

to tell her that he was sorry. that, although he never said it, he needed her as he needed air to breathe.

but pride, the downfall of men, was the manacle that chained him away from resolution. was well aware that he was in the wrong, but had too much dignity than necessary, and saying 'sorry' was almost bitter in his throat.

"you're being petty, [y/n]."

"and you're not seeing the real problem, jude!" stopped herself before her mouth lead her mind.

"you know what- i'm leaving."

mind sped to a screeching pause, and [y/n] almost laughed at the shock that painted jude's face.

"l-leaving? to where?"

hadn't planned for this to happen. it was all too ill-fitting in this timeline, everything was against them, yet he had no one but himself to blame.

"baby, look- i'm sorry, so sorry. we can fix this, just... don't leave, okay?" jude cupped his girlfriend's face in his hands, placing his forehead on her's, "i've been stupid, i know. i've been an idiot."

waited for the girl to reply, but could physically feel his heart compress into itself as her touch came upon his wrists, gently peeling his palms from her cheeks.

"let me go, jude."

"go where, [y/n]?! home is here... with me," jude insisted, feeling his voice crack. knew that where they stood were at different frequencies, and now he fought for something that was dwindling with no point of return. he had a chance in the past, but was foolish to not take advantage of it.

[y/n] didn't find it within herself to reply, walking away as she picked up her keys from the kitchen counter. jude was hot on her trail, locking her in a backward embrace.

"don't go, please."

she squeezed her eyes shut, sensing his authenticity as his despair siphoned into her skin. but she was so over it, over how he cared so late into decline of their relationship, over how selfish jude was every moment up until now.

his shit didn't faze him, until it came back to strike him tenfold.

"it's not worth fighting over anymore. you know this jude."

his arms loosened around her waist, resting dead by his sides. felt sickeningly weak at the inevitable, looming demise.

"so we're done?"

never would've [y/n] thought she would be hearing those words,.pertaining to her own relationship. but here she was, losing the man that had once had been knitted to her soul.

"yeah. we are."

[chainofhyrule]

requested by @fairly-linked

The Sounds of the Night

The sounds of the night, on some nights, were thought to be more than enough to calm the day’s troubled mind. Though the stretch of inactivity would make some of the group feeling more wary than rested, most agreed the sounds of nature had more of a calming effect than credited for.

…Time was not one of those people.

It wasn’t his fault, really. He refused to believe it was. He blamed Majora. The land of Termina, which was never far from his mind, had left more than just a scar on his face than the marks that mask could ever leave behind. The sounds of the night he too often associated with those nights he’d been forced to stay awake, oftentimes all three days straight, fighting to fix errors bigger than he should have been held accountable for. Over and over again, forced to watch the world around him crumble when he failed.

Full-mooned nights were so, so much worse, though. As were nights without a moon. He supposed he was lucky to find himself looking up at a perfect crescent.

With a sigh, he allowed his back to relax against the trunk of the tree he’d decided to rest against. The rest of the group were, one by one, nodding off around the dimly illuminating campfire. He watched with a bit of fondness as some of them subconsciously cling to whatever was close by. Most notably, Wild, to a very indifferent Twilight. Legend, to Hyrule’s arm. It was endearing, really. Then…well, there was you.

You were chatting away with the Captain, as well as Twilight, about things Time himself couldn’t even seem to keep up with. He was too caught up in simply watching your lips, and the way your hands moved to animate your story for the boys, who listened intently. Twilight nodded along, absently combing his fingers through the top of Wild’s hair. Warriors seemed to watch your hands just as Time had been, seemingly interested in the way they move. Perhaps that’s why you did it; you knew he would pay attention to you, that way. Or perhaps that was just a natural habit.

Either way…he was intrigued by you. Your humour, which rivalled that of any of the group. The way you spoke, the way you listened, and the way you cared for them…

Time let out a sigh, and let his head fall back against the trunk of the tree. He looked over at you once more, seemingly intrigued by your story. He smiles, too small to notice from your current distance. He fights every urge he has to stand up and pull you closer. Every urge to just grab you, hold you, and keep you close to him. Sure, it was selfish. Did he care?

…Admittedly, not as much as he should have. He deserved a good thing for himself every now and again. So did you. He’d give you the world, if he could. One free of danger, and sorrow, and free of anything that displeased you. …Surely, you deserved it?

The firelight died out within the hour, and Warriors had long since fallen asleep mid-conversation. The only ones still fighting slumber were yourself, the rancher, the vet some ways off, and Time himself. Your conversation with his descendant had died off a while ago, as well. You just sat in mutually comfortable silence for a while, until eventually, Twilight joined the majority, and drifted off to sleep with his arm draped protectively around Wild. The vet fought sleep for only a short while longer, eventually just leaving the two of you to the night.

There was a lot Time wanted to say. Even more he wanted to be able to do. However…he had to admit, he somehow found it in himself to enjoy the quiet. With you there…the sounds of the night weren’t so bad. Perhaps he understood why the others found such sounds soothing, after all.

Perhaps you had somehow heard his thoughts. How else could he explain the timing of your gaze falling upon him, your silhouette golden against the gentle flicker of the dying fire. In silence, the hero held out an arm in invitation, hand partially outstretched, smiling softly in your direction. A moment later, you half-rose from your spot at the fire, to join him against the tree line.

Your body nestled so perfectly against his, he thought. His arm fit perfectly around your waist, to pull you in closer. His body turned to accommodate your space, partially pulling you into his lap so you could lay against his chest.

Lucky for him, you were rather quick to snuggle back into him, which he took full advantage of. One arm around your waist, the other gently stroking your cheek, combing through your hair in soothing motions. A soft kiss was pressed to your temple.

Granted, he’d never, ever be one to question your affection. However…there was something different about how you tucked yourself under his chin. Your cheek was pressed into his collar. You’d always told him that he was a safe space…but he hadn’t truly understood the meaning of such words until now, he thinks.

No words were exchanged. No discussions over what could have been weighing you down. Perhaps he was looking too much into it. Perhaps not enough. There was little he knew in certainty, but the one thing he held to ring loud and true was his devotion to ensuring you were safe. Comfortable. Happy. If burrowing into him on a warm night as the owls sang from the branches far above was your idea of security, he’d gladly hold you until the end of his days. Gladly dedicate his energy to stroking your hair, or your skin.

As long as you felt safe.

…For you, he’d do it all.

Looking up at the moon above once more before settling with you in his arms, he supposed he ought to be grateful. Not just for its crescent shape, or even if it were to have no shape at all…but for allowing him to have met you.

…Seems the sounds of the night held such respect, as well.

(Tap here to return to Masterlist)

[misculenica]

A love letter to the facial animations... And Solas's design.

I just love that first encounter with Solas, and how telling it is if you really pay attention.

We all remember how giddy he is, perhaps he even has a playful nature to some. He seems utterly delighted that you're there (of course he is - you're going to fix all his problems).

Knowing Solas, he always came across as someone who is very bad at hiding his true feelings about things (he can't help but declare everything/point out how clever he is/how wrong everyone else is) - he's an awful liar. He's quick to correct himself, but not quick enough to not let you know exactly how he feels about something.

Looking at in in more depth with hindsight of who he is and what's really going on, it's just that extra layer of ohhhh that's interesting. Praise to the creatives involved in the storyboards/animation/facial expressions, because hot damn it's beautiful to look at.

So let's go frame by frame like manaics. (yes, it's because I'm writing fanfiction and wanted more insight into his thoughts/character)

The first closeup we get of him is this;

This is not a happy man XD

I would suggest he's just unhappy with you (I believe I mentioned in another post that Solas throughout the game has a sort of grudge against you for being the cause of all this - besides himself + Coryphidkfdfsdfus), but given the situation, I don't blame him for being on piss-mode.

But just... The way he stares at Inky just hits so hard. Imagine this guy you don't know grabs your arm and gives you this stare - it'd scare me more than the demons XD

That, and the fact that when he does the thing, he looks at you

It just- whether it's my writer/artist heart or just my solavellan heart hitting me with this idk. Just nnnf how come I never noticed this.

And the first rift is sealed, and Inky stares at him all like O.o "What did you do?" And he responds "I did nothing. The credit is yours." But there's this second/half second pause of interesting aniimation from Solas that I think deserves attention/applause.

Here's his immediate response to "What did you do?";

He's staring at the mark - with such intensity - before his brain catches up to 'oh right, respond solas respond'

And as soon as he makes eye-contact with Inky, it turns to this;

The difference in these expressions hits me right in the vhenan. I really want to congratulate the animators for this, because holy crap that's a lot of information about a character and their mindstate in the space of a couple seconds - pretty much a 'blind and you'll miss it'.

And then the rest of the scene, he pretty much has the same head tilted to the side, vague smile on his face, 'I'm just going to twiddle my fingers in front of me' look happening - and it kills me.

(Also it's slaying me that Solas is leaning down as if he's speaking to a child)

All humble and appeasing, until you look away.

I particularly love this next part, where Varric tells you Solas kept you from dying in your sleep. And he just has this;

Like; "yes, what do you think about that?" turn to look at you, instead of any verbal confirmation.

They rest is pretty much similar. Though I just adore the contrast of his expressions when he's 'in the moment' and then 'in character' - it's so goddamn telling from the very beginning.

I would kill to install flycam - if anyone can give me details on how to install a flycam for Inquisition (I've tried before, but any links I get taken to have dead sites/pages)

And I just want to share a happy egg.

Part 2

I now have flycam installed and it works, however- controller isn't an option and i don't have a numpad on my keyboard XD gonna have to dig out an old keyboard!

But overall the software works and i've been able to use it! Success!

[chaosteddybear]

6 Song Soundtrack Mixtape

Thanks so much for the tag! (spyri and sphinx both tagged me and I tagged you both in the Hexx one soooooo I won't spam you AGAIN).

Rules: If you're tagged, make a new post with links to music and/or lyrics describing the following: 1. An event that defines your character's past 2. How your character sees themselves 3. How others view them 4. Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic) 5. A major fight scene 6. End credits song

Mix: my OC across various games and AUs and worlds <3

1. An event that defines your character's past Nobody's Home

Her feelings she hides Her dreams she can't find

And I couldn't help her I just watched her make The same mistakes again What's wrong, what's wrong now? Too many, too many problems Don't know where she belongs Where she belongs She wants to go home But nobody's home That's where she lies Broken inside With no place to go No place to go To dry her eyes Broken inside [...] And now you can't find What you left behind Be strong, be strong now Too many, too many problems Don't know where she belongs [...]

So, the event I chose for this is coming home after a trip to a house full of nothing but death. This triggers the start of his Rambling Era, as I call it, where this song explains his consuming thoughts. Including telling himself to be strong, hide his feelings, squash his dreams, etc.

2. How your character sees themselves: Whatever It Takes

Whip, whip Run me like a racehorse Hold me like a ripcord Break me down and build me up […] Whatever it takes 'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins I do whatever it takes […] I wanna be invisible Looking at my years like a martyrdom Everybody needs to be a part of 'em Never be enough, I'm the prodigal son I was born to run, I was born for this 'Cause I love how it feels when I break the chains […] I'm just a product of the system of catastrophe And yet a masterpiece, and yet I'm half diseased And when I am deceased At least I'll go down to the grave and die happily

This song captures the exact balance that Mix walks between being obsessed with himself while also putting himself down. He believes he can do anything, and he can certainly withstand anything.

3. How others view them Bullet with Butterfly Wings

The world is a vampire, sent to drain Secret destroyers, hold you up to the flames And what do I get, for my pain? Betrayed desires, and a piece of the game [...]

Now I'm naked, nothing but an animal But can you fake it, for just one more show? [...]

Tell me I'm the only one Tell me there's no other one [...] And I still believe that I cannot be saved

This song captures his resentment towards the people who took over the town he's from. He's also my rage boy (definitely an animal walking the line between wild and tame), and those who don't pay attention to anything else would absolutely just see this. They also may not realize that he's not in it for what he gets, and he doesn't think he needs to be saved (and if he did would he deserve it?). But hey, he is certainly obvious (when in love) about wanting to feel special. Is he obvious enough though?

5. A major fight scene: Satan Is My Motor

I've got wheels of polished steel I've got tires that grab the road I've got seats that selflessly hold my friends And a trunk that can carry the heaviest of loads I've got a mind that can steer me to your house And a heart that can bring you red flowers My intentions are good and earnest and true But under my hood is internal combustion power

Mix is so not okay. He sees himself as a tool, focusing on his usefulness to the important people in his life, specifically what he must do for them.

So this is what plays in his head as he picks off enemies. He spends his time aiming and shooting calmly as he reflects and focuses on his use and how much he loves his friends. He likes to be calm and focused while he enacts his duty.

He will get them all before any figure out where he is. So it's not a super hype song. Though, I do have an alt hype song for his more rambunctious fight scenes: Bark at the Moon.

6. End credits song: Why Would You Be Loved

It's a lie, the high that you have with love It feels like gold when you hold it [...] I wouldn't say it, but I blame them The bleedin' hearts, the arts and that other stuff All the same motivations will melt away Like snowflakes on a tongue, baby [...] I wouldn't say it, but I blame them [...] Why would you play it all on somethin' as hollow as trust? (Hey) What if you gave it all to find that it wasn't enough? (Hey) What if, under the gaze of all, you come short when the going gets rough? [...] They look for somethin' to be done for those that are most in pain What about me and my achin'? The scales rehung, the breakin' of yoke and chain What about me and my breakin'? And if you ain't for all, how could you try it all, baby? So why, why, why?

This one might seem against who he is, which is why it fits the credits, I think. These are conversations he has with himself. Is he right to be so naive, or is it a waste of time? Is he neglecting himself by constantly looking for love where his own isn't matched? He ultimately chooses to keep hope every single time. He has a strong will that way. But not out of naivete.

I tag: @loveless-nameless-graceless-two @seynne @bite-the-bloody-hand , and you dear Reader!

[batsplat]

YOU FREAKING CALLED IT BAT

https://www.tumblr.com/multiseb21/761343230861312000/it-all-stems-from-argentina?source=share

(link)

ahaha tbh I think jorge lorenzo deserves the credit here, since he's the one who prompted me to centre argentina 2015 a lot more... main thing I've got going for me is my archiving skills

anyway, it is a slightly different narrative, though not a contradictory one. valentino thinks marc wanted him to crash, marc (according to jorge) thinks valentino wanted him to crash... tbh, yeah, my sense is that there was more tension from that incident than what it perhaps seemed like to us outside observers, that a lot of the stuff after that is basically just plasters on an open wound, and that the paddock hivemind was also at least somewhat aware of this. that's how you get jorge referring back to this incident, rather than assen, as the real starting point - it was never just a racing incident, not to the two men involved. that's why you get valentino's odd line back in 2015 that he'd been told by marc's manager that marc was mad at him over argentina. it's an incident that's a little too easy to gloss over because the hostilities after assen and then later in the season are so much more obvious... but well, yeah -

and on the 'learning' from valentino thing, I was thinking about it in conjunction with the casey rivalry more recently

like yeah,, idk. do like that as a little running thread, very much learning (derogatory) as something that keeps cropping up. a motif when a specific flavour of valentino-esque behaviour gets reflected back at him. (see too jorge/vale.) I know this race has definitely been integrated into the narrative of 2015, but it did sometimes feel like it hasn't gotten the attention it deserves - just as a sort of ominous precursor for things to come. clearly, there already was a fair bit of... uh, premature aggression from both sides there, remarkably early into the season. they were already primed for things to fall apart from there - though assen was probably what made it inevitable. I've said this before, but in a way it really would have been healthier for them to just have gotten normal nasty towards each other in the context of a normal title fight, rather than bottling everything up for so long and then lashing out in such a spectacular manner. ah well