#because the presentation leans towards the latter

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

I haven't watched this video and I have no interest in watching it, but oh boy does everything about the thumbnail and title make me incredibly uncomfortable.

[okwonyo]

── ꒰੭ PASSENGER PRINCESS｡｡｡ 𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗀𝗎𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗀𝗂𝗋��𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗓𝗒, 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒.

엔하이픈 제이크 ᆼᆽᆼ fluff established relationship ୨୧ female reader kissing skinship 18OO ( ℰ )

OO1. PICKING HER WITH A CAR, FLOWERS AND A NEW HAIRCUT.

you are going to kill jake.

no, seriously. after not seeing him for a whole month, he doesn’t take the time to walk to your apartment’s building, take the elevator and knock at your door like a true gentleman. instead, has the audacity to ask you to come down to the parkinglot. which is ridiculous, given the fact that he doesn’t even own a car or a driver’s licence to begin with.

it is your eleventh date with him, the fact that you always had to walk or take a cab to attain the wanted location was already a major turn off. but how he always asked you if you wanted him to give piggyback you ride and his beautiful smile made you forget about it pretty quickly. he always walked by side of of the road, held your chair for you, draped his jacket on your shoulders on the way back home and whispered a ‘goodnight’ before leaving. the last time you saw him, he kissed you on the mouth for the first time and you wonder if it was enough to not make any efforts anymore.

alas, the sight of him killed you instead. his posture, his brand new long hair falling on his left eye, the car you didn’t care enough to know the brand of next to him, your favorite flowers in his hands, the gentle smile he was wearing, they all took your breath away.

still, you walked towards him with an annoyed look and arms crossed. you spoke before he could give you a kiss, his cologne feeling your sense as leaned he in, “did you make me walk all the way here just to show off your new cab?”

he only giggled gently, “this is a cab, pretty girl,” his breath brushes against your lips, his eyes lingers on them.

your eyes widen, accepting the flowers he gives to you with your mouth agape, “i-is this your car?”

his soft lips presses against yours before he says anything. humming against your lips as an answer, he gently holds the back of your head during the kiss. the butterflies in your stomach makes you forget to ask him what really matters, does he even have a driver liscense?

OO2. HOLD THE DOOR FOR HER.

after giving you a few more pecks, because he always pains to pull away from your taste, you realize you shouldn’t have suspected his gentleman tendencies.

“so,” he starts, his soft voice echoing in your ears, your heart, your soul. he puts his palm on the top of his car, “d’ya like it?”

your eyes are too focused staring at his face to even acknowledge what he is taking about. whether he is talking about his long hair or new hoodie is behind you. like a piece of art, you contemplate the man before you for what feels like an hour but it is not enough. god, you want to stare at him until you can recreate every single part of him with your eyes closed. he seems to want that too. jake stares right back at you, from up to down, biting his lips as he usually does.

“hm?” he shifts his position, snapping you back to reality.

you look between the car and him a few times, panicked by the sudden reality whiplash, “u-uh, yeah,” you nod frenetically, though, you don’t know if you are talking about his brand new car or him.

the latter chuckles softly, it makes you blush. his fingers slide from from the top of the vehicle to the car’s wrist. he made sure to stand right next to the passenger’s side, just so he could open the door for you. he presents you the sit with his free hand while he opens the door.

“then get in, princess,” that’s a new one. you snort, trying to hide your fluster.

OO3. PUTTING ON HER BELT FOR HER (AND GIVE HER A KISS).

the cool car’s air embraces your skin perfectly, you get in without much difficulty, although the huge flower bouquet is a bit of a bother.

your body soothes into the comfortable seats. it’s comfy, you feel like falling asleep right then and there. alas, the loud sound the car’s door makes prevents you from doing so.

jake runs to the other side of the car, accompanied by your laughter as you watch him doing so. he sits on the driver’s sit and give you a cute smile before putting on his belt, which reminds you of doing the same.

you fidget on your seat, trying to find a way to do it with the bouquet in your hands. it’s no easy, you don’t want to put it on the floor and is too scared to just hold it in between your thighs.

thankfully, jake notices your struggle, offering you his hand, “give me that,” he tells you.

delicately, he takes off his belt, then the flowers in his hands and put them on the back seats. after making sure the flowers won’t fall on the floor, he leans towards you, reaching for the belt next to you. he clips it without much efforts and you watch him with a soft smile growing on your face.

he kisses you again, against his lips you whisper, “thank you,” he mutters something about how there is nothing to thank him for.

OO4. PROTECT HER WHEN THERE IS A SPEED DUMP

if you concentrate on the road hard enough, your mind can erase the thought of jake’s veins bulging as he holds the cartwheel tightly, his rolled up sleeves showing off his arms perfectly.

you decide to focus on the cars driving next to you, they go fast and almost make you nauseous, but it’s a price to pay for not losing your sanity over your boyfriend’s arms. unfortunately for you, spending most of your time together staring at his hands makes it easy for your brain to recreate them behind your closed eyes. his fingers brushing over the fabric, his hands gripping on the cartwheel for dear life, his veins popping out everytime he holds too tight, it’s all so clear in your mind.

whoever is ruling the universe doesn’t want you to forget about it either, there would be no reason for one of his arms to appear in front you the moment you look away from your dear window either way. your gaze walks on his skin, from his nails to his shoulder, studying every inches meticulously before finally stopping at his face.

the car bumps underneath the both of you. jake’s face has a serious expression on his face and endearment fills your heart when you realize that he is trying to protect you from the speed bump. he’s such a dork.

OO5. PUT YOUR HAND ON HER THIGH.

the sight of his hands is nothing compared to the feeling of his hand on you. you can feel heat running through your whole body when he lets his hand fall on your thigh, so naturally, so gracefully, as if it was just meant to be here.

“you okay?” he questions you, voice soft, his head snaps to yours quickly before going back to the facing the road.

his hands moves to your right thigh to the left one, delicately. it stays there, burning through your skin, sinking into your flesh, melting in your bones and flooding in your blood. his hand flexes as he gives you a gentle squeeze, his thumb rubs again your muscle and you are so close from screaming.

he continues to do the same with his thumb until you answer to his question, “y-yeah,” is all you can manage to say back, going back to admiring the car’s trajectory next to you as if jake didn’t change your life’s one.

OO6. KISS HER DURING A RED LIGHT (COMPLIMENT HER TOO).

pressing your lips together, you look up, silently praying for your blushing to not be too obvious.

you don’t understand how jake went from holding the cartwheel as if his life depended on it to holding it with one hand nonchalantly just for the sake of having you beneath at least on of his hand.

his warmth melts into yours, you can feel his palm getting sweaty as the time goes back, two songs play from the beginning to the end and one more gets to start before moves. his touch is missed by your whole being immediately. the ghost of his skin put on yours still remains as well as the pink shade on your cheeks does.

the car stops and jake’s fingers are back on you. this time, it’s on your chin to turn your face to his. the sensation of his mouth on yours is enough to make fireworks explode in the very pit of your stomach. flustering your eyes close, you fall into him like you always do.

he smiles against your mouth, your teeth collide, “you are beautiful,” he affirms before pulling away.

OO7. OPEN THE DOOR FOR HER (AGAIN).

after he goes back to driving again, you take a deep breath and the car ride goes by. you talk about the few weeks you weren’t together for most of it.

“why didn’t you tell me that you were taking driving classes?” you ask him, with a teasing smile, “i thought you didn’t want to see me anymore.”

jake let out a dramatic gasp, “after that kiss?” he huffs. you remember how giggly he was after your first time kissing each other. “you’ll have to surgically remove my hips from yours,” it’s like a weight is taken off your shoulders the moment the words leave his mouth. “i wanted to surprise you.”

you coo, reaching for one of his cheeks with your index finger. he smiles when you poke it, “you are so cute.”

instead of responding he turns his head to you with a adorable grin, his arm find the back of your seat as he looks behind him. you admire his side profile with your head leaned against the cushion as if you were day dreaming. his neck seems biteable, perfect for you lips to kiss and your teeth to sink in. you could talk about his nose for hours, really, days long even.

it even brushes over yours when he finally finishes parking, going back to his normal position before undoing his belt. the man gets out of the car in a rush and you watch him run to your side like he did moments ago. you laugh when he opens the door, with no breath at all.

he offers you his hand to hold, “for you, m’lady,”

you take off your belt before holding his hand. carefully, he gets your out of the car. his eyes drags on your form when you finally stand in front of him, he makes you twirl, studying your outfit while you giggle.

jake pulls you close, gently, kissing you again. this is going to be a good night.

ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open ⎯⎯ he is so bff coded .. HaHa click

[md-intermission-archive]

"Murder Drones: Intermission": A Story of Understanding

Uzi Doorman: Understanding Loneliness

I feel like during the development of this episode, Uzi was the hardest character for me to wrap my head around. To my understanding, she’s feisty, angsty, and plays up this persona of being apathetic. A sort of lone wolf thing.

She’s snappy towards her classmates who ostracize her, snappy towards adults in her life, and overall gives a middle finger to anyone who isn’t on Team Uzi. It’s a very “me vs. the world” type of thing. That, to me, just felt like the callous shell of someone who’s painfully fragile and has been hurt so often.

I will admit, I may be projecting slightly, but I honestly read her as like… a neurodivergent kid who didn’t know how to navigate social circles, so she just became incredibly bitter. Her father didn’t help her situation at all because he also treated her like a freak, literally calling her a disappointment in his business ads. Then on top of all that she had no mother figure to look up to. All of this accumulates into a habit of isolation. “No one will love me, so fuck it. I’m on my own”. She acts like she’s fine on her own, when in reality she’s so starved for genuine connection. With that in mind, in Intermission I wanted to peel back those layers a little bit. I wanted to explore self-isolation and that hunger for love. 

Some people clocked this I think: the way Uzi’s attitude is toned down in Intermission. I didn’t want to play up her angsty teen act as much (and I capped her at one “bite me”) because then I’d risk falling into the trap of making her into a caricature of herself. The way I framed her in my head is “if she wants connection, then she’d be happier around people who she sees as her friends. If she’s also fragile though, she’ll make an immediate 180 at the slightest hint of meanspiritedness”. This was the guideline I gave myself when it came to bouncing her off of V and N. N melts her icy demeanor. He’s very gentle and encouraging with her. One example being how N kneeled down to her eye level when speaking to her when she was putting up her walls again. As someone who’s constantly ostracized, she needs a gentle touch in order to relax.

I made sure to keep that in mind, that while she was being treated gently, she should show more signs of happiness. Comfort. Part of that comfort is also reflected in being mischievous/playful. As for the 180 she makes if shown any sort of cruelty, that’s reflected in acts of self-isolation. 

This is something I’ve observed from myself and people in my life. If someone is already deathly afraid of rejection, they won’t reach out for help and their immediate instinct will be to isolate. In the beginning of the EP when Uzi’s having her Solver flare up her immediate thought is “I’m going to put up a firewall (repress) and just not even mention this to anybody”. Then when N offers to help, she still shows signs of being uncomfortable because she’s not used to it. It isn’t until V’s comment calling her a lost cause irks her that she decides “screw it let’s give it a shot”. She hates being underestimated, so this reaction made sense to me. Meanwhile the climax of the episode is where I wanted the most overt display of her fears to be presented.

As I said earlier, Uzi’s sensitive to rejection. She attacked the only people in her life who care about her, and the worst part was it wasn’t even her fault. Uzi is a person who really wants a sense of control over her life for the sake of security, so that loss of control and the idea of “oh my god they hate me now” was the final straw for her. So, she isolated. She ran off (or in this case, flew off), she barricaded herself, and she cried.

During the scene when Uzi's found, I had a bit of an issue figuring out where to go from there with her. I had two options: I could once again lean into her badass persona and have her fight back, or I could have her fold. I decided the latter. To her, she just lost the only people who cared about her, she's a monster to worker drone society, her father doesn't care about her.

What's the point. She's doomed to be alone.

If V didn't have her revelation, Uzi would've let herself die. While I understand that's an upsetting choice to make in the narrative, given Uzi's circumstances it felt like the appropriate reaction. Which is why the events following were so important.

While Uzi's at her lowest point she's shown pinch of kindness.

While it’s true V’s initial intention was to off Uzi, her showing compassion and sympathy was what helped calm Uzi down. Rather than making her put up walls like V usually does, V was able to break through them a tad. That interaction, N pouncing at her with a hug, and the final scene was meant to cement in Uzi’s head that she finally wasn’t alone (even if V still struggled to not be prickly with her). The three are still incredibly messy, but there’s that sense of trust that Uzi now has people in her life that actually care about her despite her messiness. The mischievous attitude even comes out when she says, “you found a nanospark of warmth in your heart to care about me”. She now feels more comfortable with V to an extent, and she finally has a support system.

I think…the reason why I love Uzi so much is that she’s sadly reflects the experience of what it's like not being able to fit into society's mold of acceptable. Even if she might not be neurodivergent, the bullying and isolation she experiences is very familiar. I wanted to do her justice as much as I could with that all in mind and with the resources I had. I wanted to give her one happy ending to a day when every other feels like utter hell.

The angsty teen may be badass, but her heart is still fragile.

[ladadiida]

𝐚𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

once upon a time, you wished for alhaitham to love you back just as much as you loved him. that was years ago though; now as the acting grand scribe for the acting grand sage, you both were widely known for the hate you have for each other.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 love hate, unrequited love (or is it), angst, implied insecurity about physical appearance, inspired from the fountain scene in atonement by ian mcewan. i suggest you watch the video first so you can imagine how the scene would look like!

𝐰𝐜 2.5k

he finally found you.

the swaying grass crunched under the soles of his boots as he slowly and menacingly walked towards you with your back facing him, not aware of what was about to come. he was getting nearer now, and yet you still didn't turn around; it was either because you didn't hear him at all or because you didn't care about his presence. knowing you, the latter sounded more reasonable.

you were sitting on the grass, right beside the crystal clear waterfalls of chinvat ravine, legs crossed and hair tied to keep the strands from blocking your view, but the wind didn't spare you from its wrath. your locks swayed gently along with the breeze, flying and curling like the roots of the divine tree holding up the sanctuary of surasthana, exposing your bare neck to him. even with your long sleeved dress, you bathed in the golden sumeru sunlight, not caring about the heat at all.

though you weren't looking at him at all, alhaitham's heart stubbornly skipped a beat, its pace picking up the longer he stared at you. you looked so peaceful sitting in silence that he almost turned away and let you be in your own quiet world. or maybe he would just sit beside you if you'd allow him to, then the two of you would listen to the singing of the dusk birds together, along with the calming sound of the running water from the waterfalls.

in another time, he would like to spend his mornings, afternoons, and nights with you; but right now, as the acting grand sage of the akademiya, work was priority.

and so, despite not wanting it, alhaitham broke the silence. "if I may ask, what is the acting grand scribe doing here?"

he saw your body tense up, shoulders raising slightly. it took you a whole minute before you decided to glance at him over your shoulder. as he expected, your usually gentle eyes were already narrowed, ready to bite at him. your plump lips were pursed in annoyance, and it took every bit of his sanity to not lean in and swipe his thumb over it. your cheeks were already starting to turn into a shade of red that reminded him of zaytun peaches. it was probably because of anger, or irritation. or both.

beautiful, he thought.

"acting grand sage alhaitham." you greeted him calmly, as opposed to the emotions you had on display. "i can ask you the same question."

alhaitham crossed his arms and stared down blankly at you. "i have some files i need you to arrange, and they should be at my desk tomorrow morning."

without breaking off the eye contact, you blinked twice as if you were contemplating on what to say. then you shrugged, appearing not to care at all. "alright."

he couldn't help but to think that the old you wouldn't act this way. years ago, you would've nod slowly with a soft smile gracing your lips, a smile that was reserved just for him, and a pale pink hue would settle on top of your skin because you were too flustered to even speak a word to him.

but times have changed now. he should not be thinking about the past, for it will only hinder his progress in the present. but how could he not, when the only person he could blame for the reason for your change was himself?

alhaitham tried to hide his growing impatience, both for your stubbornness and your attitude towards him. he frowned and pressed on, "it seemed like you didn't understand. i am asking you to return to your office in the akademiya."

"you already wasted my time by searching for you. i spent a precious hour just walking around the city asking people if they somehow saw you when i could've spent that hour finishing the rest of my work. even katayoun didn't know where you are, so i had to find you myself." he continued, voice sounding more cross in each sentence.

you sighed, not affected by his rants. fully turning around, he saw a writing quill tucked in your ear and some papers stacked on your lap. you took one of the papers and showed it to him. "i'm checking some of the students' research proposals before i can submit them to you for approval."

"and you couldn't do that in your office?"

"unlike some of us, i can't concentrate on my work when i am locked up in an enclosed space." you quickly bit back, glaring at him. "working here is much better. i can breathe in some fresh air and watch the dusk birds if i'm feeling overwhelmed by the never-ending paperwork."

alhaitham thought of what you said and almost agreed with you. from where he was standing, he could see the bright blue sky, and not to mention, the entire view of the city.

but his pride didn't allow him to back down, just like always. he can tolerate you being mad at him and hating him with all your heart, but he can't stand it when you ignore him.

so he added fuel to the fire and lectured you, "while you're at it, do you have more complaints? don't hesitate to inform me if you lack materials or things that you will need. you have a high position in the akademiya now, so it is important for you to have your work done in a proper manner."

you rolled your eyes. "office rooms make me nauseous." you said straightforwardly.

that made him scrunch his eyebrows in both confusion and concern. "nauseous?"

"there's no windows." you grumbled under your breath. alhaitham inhaled sharply, finally understanding the situation. he made a mental note to speak with some of the matra later and make a request to transfer you to a new room. maybe even use some of his sage funds to buy new decorations just for you, so you wouldn't feel lonely and cramped inside your office.

while he was thinking, he noticed that you turned around once again, continuing to check the papers on your own. he watched you write, quick but your handwriting remained neat and pleasing to look at. this was one of the reasons why he chose you to become the scribe.

he wasn't satisfied with just watching you. alhaitham got closer and bent down with one knee. striking up a conversation again, he began, "let me see what you're working on."

you flinched at the sudden close proximity. he noticed it, and he tried to stop himself from smirking.

your grip on your quill tightened. with gritted teeth, you told him, "i'm not yet finished. please be patient."

alhaitham peered at you innocently, making you glower even more at his unaffected state. "i just want to check if you're doing it correctly." he simply said.

"i told you it's not yet finished. and what do you mean by correctly? i can manage just fine on my own!" you defended, now starting to raise your voice. while you were distracted, he took the opportunity to take the paper you were writing on.

you yelped and protested, "hey! stop!"

he lifted up his arm so you wouldn't be able to reach it, looking down on you with a strange glint in his beautiful turquoise eyes. seething in anger, you slightly sat up and pressed a hand on his chest in a rough manner to hoist yourself up without losing balance. you tried to ignore the feeling of his defined muscles against your palm as you tried to snatch the paper from him.

alhaitham froze. for a moment, he thought he forgot how to breathe because of how close you were to him. he could see the flecks of light in your eyes, the number of your thick eyelashes, and the many imperfections on the surface of your skin, yet they looked soft to the touch. and your lips, your heavenly lips, were only inches away from his own. the way they were slightly parted made him think of how they would feel.

he lost all focus that the paper he was holding slipped away from his fingers. your jaw dropped in horror, gaze following the paper in the air as it slowly flew towards the river. you got off alhaitham and tried to chase after it, but you were unfortunately too late. the paper had already met the surface of the water, liquid seeping on its thin composition.

you looked at him in disbelief. "what have you done?"

alhaitham sighed, waving a hand. "don't fret too much. just take the printed copy and submit it to me." he said.

"i didn't print one." you quietly replied.

he turned to you and stared at you like you've grown two heads. "what?"

in a louder voice, you explained impatiently, "that's the original paper. i haven't printed a copy yet."

hearing your words, alhaitham felt a huge headache. it was a grave mistake not to keep a copy of the akademiya's files.

"this is why I told you to always duplicate important files immediately after you receive them from the students in case they are stolen, destroyed, or lost." he spoke carefully, trying to avoid getting frustrated. "these are their research papers, and i'm sure that as a former akademiya student, you know how much value those papers hold."

your hands formed into fists. "do not talk to me like that!" you weakly shouted.

one of his eyebrows raised in question. "like what? like an acting grand sage pointing out their scribe's mistake?"

to his surprise, you started tearing up. bright red then blossomed on your cheeks, signalling the chaos that was about to reach its boiling point.

"like a pompous ass who forced me to become the scribe!" you yelled, and the shrillness of your voice hurt his ears, but he continued listening anyway. "if you're so clever and oh so better than me, then why didn't you just be the grand sage and scribe at the same time? you just have to drag me into your shit so you could embarrass me in front of the mahamata!"

"to embarrass you is far from my—"

you pointed a finger at him in a threatening way, your eyes shooting daggers as sharp enough to kill him. "speak another word and i'll kick you so hard in your groin that your children wouldn't be able to have the same genes as you."

flabbergasted, alhaitham didn't dare utter another word. but when you started to unbutton your dress, he let out a sarcastic huff.

"the water is not safe." he said, trying to prevent you from wading through the fungi infested river. you ignored him and continued to undress.

you were about to pull down the upper part of your dress when you glanced at him, mouth open as if you were going to say something. he held your gaze, waiting for your retort. however, nothing came, and you only scowled at him while you finally slipped out of your dress, the clothing falling down to your feet.

he knew it was improper to stare. he wanted to look away, to give you respect and privacy and also because it was the right thing to do, but he can't he can't he can't—

the lacy camisole you were wearing underneath the dress clung tight to your body. your bra straps were visible, and because the camisole's length can only reach the middle of your exposed thighs, he can almost see your underwear. you were half naked right in front of him, but you didn't seem to care. why didn't you care?

ah, alhaitham thought, realization dawning upon him as you carefully walked towards the river and tested the temperature of the water first before taking a dive. you became nothing but a colorful blur under the aquamarine waters.

it was quiet for a moment. everything was quiet, until a distant memory flashed in his mind.

"you don't pass my aesthetic preferences and ideals for a partner. i consider both character and appearance when it comes to choosing a significant other, should that day ever come." he explained quickly, trying to get out of this awkward situation. more students were gathering around them, and that was the thing he despised the most: attention.

it became even worse when your lower lip started to tremble. just how pathetic can you be? confessing your feelings in the middle of a public place, the feelings that grew within you just by working on a single project together. you brought this to yourself. this was all your fault to begin with.

"are you saying i'm ugly?" you whispered, shaky voice sounding upset.

his gaze on you remained impassive. "i wouldn't use that term. that's too harsh, don't you think? i'd say...you're just not physically attractive, that's all.

"i'm not planning to consider you as my partner in a romantic relationship, today and in the near future. so i advise you to stay away from me to save yourself from the humiliation. have a nice day."

a loud splash interrupted his thoughts.

when you emerged from the water, your hands were clutching the soggy piece of paper, grip gentle as to not rip it off. damp pieces of hair framed your face, and the camisole, now transparent, hugged your wet form. your jaw was clenched, due to the cold or your hostility towards him; he doesn't know.

oxygen was knocked out of his lungs. alhaitham swallowed a lump in his throat and clenched his fist, reminding himself to breathe. you walked past him, not meeting his eye, and picked up your dress from the ground. you dressed hastily, your wet strands drenching your clothing in the process.

after you buttoned up, you turned your head sideways, finally acknowledging his presence but not making eye contact.

"i never wanted to be the acting grand scribe." you said, voice calm once again. "still, i apologize. i, who does not have a single clue about being a scribe because i'm only a librarian, apologize for not knowing what this job entails. but for just one day, can you please stop reminding me that i'm not as intelligent as you?"

he stayed quiet.

"have a nice day, acting grand sage." were your last words before you left him there standing dumbly on the grass. he can only watch as you walked away from him, hair swaying across your shoulders with each step you take. when you disappeared from his sight, he looked back at the water, the roiling surface yet to recover from its tranquillity, almost like you left some of your fury in it. alhaitham placed a hand flat on its surface, thinking about how the water touched your body mere moments ago, its calming arms caressing every inch of your skin. he doesn't want to feel jealous, but that he felt.

it has happened, much to his dread. you, who is possibly the only woman who can ever love someone like him, no longer have feelings for him. it was to be expected, but how can he live on when the only constant thing in his life finally left him for good?

alhaitham can only dip his hand in the water. it was the only closest thing to you that he could touch.

[reareaotaku]

Menace to Society

Summary: You met the infamous Damian Wayne and neither of you are impressed. Content: Jon Kent mentioned, kinda derailed... I'm sorry, Could also be kind of read as Jon Kent x Reader too, but it's meant to be Damian Wayne x Reader..., Fem! Reader Taglist: N/a

[Pt II?]

[--- : Three Dashes is flashback] [---: 2nd Three Dashes is back to the present] [--: Two Dashes is Time Skip]

You had heard the rumors about the Wayne boy, but you didn't pay it much mind. You never thought you encounter him, so it didn't seem productive to think about him. Besides you had bigger problems; Like the fact you lived in fucking Gotham City, the most dangerous city in America. Oh, to have been born to a family in Metropolis is a dream you wish for every night, hoping to wake from this damn nightmare.

The rumors varied, depending on who was telling them. Some say he was incredibly handsome, just like his father- Others said he was a rotten guy who knew no empathy or compassion for another human being. You were leaning towards the latter, because he was a rich boy, who had never known a day of poverty, of course he'd be a stuck up bastard. Though, you didn't blame him, you were sure he was enabled.

You found it weird when you'd defend the boy's actions. It could have just been because you didn't know him and felt less biased. That was until you met the asshole.

He was worse than anyone had ever described. He was literally the child of hell. He was entitled, selfish, egotistical and narcissistic. He was your worse nightmare.

He didn't like you either. You were such an annoyance to him. Granted, most people annoyed him, but you were different. It's like you were a chigger [What are Chiggers?] digging into his skin and chewing on his flesh. Not to mention it seemed you were a pest on his life. He just couldn't get rid of you no matter how hard he tried.

The crazy thing is you were rarely around ech other, but when you are it feels like eternity. You felt like you were constantly competing with a spoiled brat and he felt like you were an annoying pest trying to push him to the side.

The thing is you were too similar to each other. At least that's what Jon thought. You remembered the first time you met Jon and he made the comparison.

---

You pushed through the crowds, before getting off the train. You sighed when looking around of the city of Metropolis. It was just a small trip, because your father needed some things from the city, that weren't in Gotham, but he was to busy, so he asked you to do it. You weren't going to get distracted.

--

You looked through the multiple vinyls. There were dozens of books on the shelves around you that you had already scoured. Your eyes were lead up to the top shelf of one of the bookcase, before your eyes caught a big black clock. It said 5:45- Your father wanted you home at 6...

You were never going to be allowed out again.

You rushed through the store, trying to catch your barings, but just your luck, you run into a man. You quickly apologize before standing u, brushing yourself off and picking up your things. You look down at him- He... looked different than guys in Gotham.

You wondered if it was something in the water, because the boys in Metropolis looked more... alive? They looked like the type that haven't had evil wrap it's nasty smoke around them since the day they were born. They were carefree and happy. How nice.

He looked up at you with baby blue eyes, before a light pink dusted his cheeks. He had a school-boyish charm. He looks at your hand that you had out for him, before he takes it.

"I'm Jon," He grips your tightly as he looks down at you. He was incredibly tall and you didn't realize it until he stood up.

"Y/n..." You say, trying to take your hand back but he has a tight grip on you. "Um.. Can I have my hand back?"

He blushes a darker red, before letting go of your hand and apologizing. He rubs the back of his neck, looking away from you. "So, are you new to Metropolis?"

"Uh... No- I mean I guess, but I don't like here. I'm just getting stuff for my dad."

"Oh, uh-"

Before he can finish his statement, the shop keeper comes out and starts yelling at you about having to pay. You looked at him confused before realizing that you still had the vinyl in your hands. You blushed darkly, realizing this guy probably thought you were a thief and you wanted to shoot yourself.

You apologized to the man, before handing him the vinyl, telling him you didn't mean to take it, your mind just went blank when realizing the time. Thankfully, the store keeper was understanding and took the vinyl before going back inside.

There were a few minutes of silence, before the guy- Jon- starts laughing. "Gosh, he was so mad, his face looked like a tomato."

You smile, nodding, "Yeah, he was, wasn't he?"

Jon opens his mouth to speak, but then your phone starts ringing and you freeze up. You pull your phone out of your pocket and sigh when seeing your father's number.

"Sorry, I have to take this-" You take a few steps way from him, before answering the phone.

"Y/n were are you?"

"I'm still in Metropolis-"

"What? Why are you still there?"

"I got... distracted?"

You hear a sigh and groan, causing you to frown.

"Get home as soon as you can."

"Okay," You hang up the phone, before sighing. You were just happy he didn't yell at you through the screen.

"Are you in trouble?"

You jumped a little before looking back at Jon. You forgot that he was there.

"Uh... No, not really... But I do have to get back home."

"I can take you! I mean, I can walk with you... You know," He gestures to you, not knowing what to say. "I mean," He quickly shakes his head and hands, "Not that you can't take care of yourself, but it'd be really shitty if I let you walk alone."

You smirk, looking the boy up and down. He would never last a second in Gotham. "I'm sure I'll be fine. Besides, I don't think you want to go where I'm going."

"Well where are you going?"

--

Jon is starting to regret his offer. Not because of you, but because of the people who were squished against him. The subway smelled awful, like death and piss, and made him scrunch his nose. You were pressed against his chest, hoping the next stop was your stop.

"You know, I have a friend in Gotham. He's a lot like you-"

"I'm like a guy?" You joke, causing him to blush and quickly back track.

"No- No. I mean, you're like him in the way you act. But, you're nicer."

"Yeah? What's his name?"

"Damian Wayne."

---

You groaned, trying to ignore the laughter of the gangs that you had to pass. You could feel their stares go through you as you try and walk away as fast as possible. Your fear rose when hearing footsteps behind you.

Don't look back. Don't look back. Don't look back.

You hear a flop and a groan and stupidily look back. On top of the man who was following you was The Robin- Well, not 'THE' Robin, but one of them... The new one.

Robin's eyes go up to you, before they widen for a second.

"Y/n?"

"Do I know you?"

Before he could back track, you hear some fabric flap[?] and look back to see THE Batman. He was tall and incredibly intimidating.

"You should probably go home, kid."

"Yeah." You look back at Robin, before back at Batman. "Yeah, I will."

[janearts]

Hey, so you got to act 3 in the Astarion romance, right? How did Roisa feel about the romance scene in the graveyard?

I did! I finished the game back in September and played out the epilogue patch more recently. Roisia was happy to bear witness to Astarion mourning his past and celebrating a future of his choosing. However, she did take umbrage at Astarion's phrasing that he would be open to having sex that evening. Knowing his history and his relationship with sex, Roisia was really looking for more clear intent, more barefaced desire. I think his wording, "I could be persuaded", would've really bothered her even though she knew he meant it cheekily (e.g., a stupid easy persuasion check, if you will).

I've included a more thorough analysis of her feelings under the cut.

Ultimately, that night poked and prodded at deeper fears and insecurities. Roisia has been left before at the end of a grand adventure wondering how she could have missed the signs that the person she adored did not quite adore her back with the same ardour. Now, older and believing herself to be wiser, she is wary and this time, she tells herself, she will keep herself in check. She will be rational, level-headed, and even-keeled. She will not let herself get swept away by irrational desire, and her love of Astarion is a very irrational, incompatible, unwise desire.

When Astarion said that he wanted her, that she stood by him through bloodlust and pain and misery, that she had been patient, caring, and trusting, that he felt safe and seen with her, and that he didn't want to lose all of that, Roisia felt a sinking unease. A queasy sort of disquiet in her gut. Because she realised that everything he described, everything about her that he praised or acknowledged or thanked, was nothing particularly special in her eyes. As a [former] Cleric of Kelemvor, as an undertaker, as a professional mourner, she has done all of the above and more with the loved ones of decedents as part of her job. It's her sacred duty to stand by people at a low and loathsome point in their lives, through their pain and misery, with patience, compassion, and an extended hand. Hell, that's just another Tuesday!

Roisia couldn't help but feel that Astarion really only loved the things that she could do for him rather than her as a person outside of those acts of service. And those things he described could have easily been done by any Mortarch worth their salt in her place. So does he truly care for her? Or is he really just thankful for the things she's done for him? Those things that really anyone could do? It does not plant a seed, exactly, but it germinates a seed that was already present in her mind, a nasty little thought that she is not special and, therefore, not truly loved in the way that she so very much wants to be loved. That, sure, Astarion cares about her, but only because she just happened to be there and has assisted people in different stages of grief since she was a child. She is fundamentally, inescapably replaceable and it's only a matter of time until Astarion realises that and does what Eustace did: clap her on the back, thank her for her time, and move on to greener pastures whatever or wherever they may be.

It was hard for Roisia to hear Astarion say things like "I want you" and "I love you" when there is a part of herself that deeply, deeply doubts that. That thinks he is wrong even if he is not yet aware that he is wrong. She is torn between taking his words at face value, the words that her heart wants to hear, or reading between the lines, which is what the parts of herself that she calls Logic and Reason call out for her to do. I think in the moment she yields to the former, but after that night, leans towards the latter.

[mochinomnoms]

i remember once i almost made a project about mushrooms for school but in the end chose to do one about frogs. THE POINT IS, imagine yuu actually being a fan of mushrooms but being lowkey about it and mentioning doing a project about them in a passing conversation and ptm jade just knowing he chose the right mate

Fun fact mushrooms actually scare me they look too much like flesh and feel weird and i also don't like those hyperlapse videos of them growing because it looks like flesh but i like the aesthetic of mushrooms and of course jade so i must suffer. Also this is the mug mentioned in the story, I own it!

Epel was carving an apple for Sebek into the shape of a dragon, as Sebek was still fascinated at Epel's skill, and Epel was happy to show off when asked. And an apple was a healthy treat to go with lunch, one that Vil had allowed and that Sebek approved for himself as a part of a knight's ideal lunch.

“Don't forget the horns!” Sebek pointed as Epel started the head, the latter huffing and kicking at his friend's leg.

“I know! I'm trying to be careful so it doesn't break!”

A comfortable silence resumed as they both focused on the knife slicing through the apple like butter.

“Epel! Sebek!” Both jumped, Epel letting out a choked yelped as he noticed his knife dig deeper than he intended. Both sighed in relief as he carefully slid his knife out with the start of the horns still intact.

“Aaah! Prefect!” Epel growled, turning towards you as you sat across the table from him with a bundle of paper in your hands.

“Don't scare me like that! I almost broke the horn!”

You smiled apologetically and winced as Sebek laid into you.

“Indeed! You of all people should no better than to interrupt Epel as he carves the Young Lord's image!”

You perked, leaning over to see Epel's progress. He'd carved out the basic shape of a dragon's body and wings, and had been working on the head and horns.

“Oh, is it Malleus's dragon form? Aaaa! That's so cool that you can do that Epel—oh wait! I wanted to show you something!”

You excitedly, yet very carefully, set down the pile of paper in your hands. The two realized that there was something in it as you unwrapped the paper. Practically vibrating, you picked up the ceramic item in the palm of your hands and presented it to them.

“Ta-da! It's a mushroom!” True to your word, in your hands was a ceramic mushroom. The base white with ridges and a handle like a mug, and the top a bright red with white spots.

“But, not just a mushroom. It's also…a mug!” You grab the red top of the mushroom and simply picked it up to show it off.

Like a child with a new toy, you kept placing the top back on and back off, looking at the two for a reaction.

“Really?” Unfortunately, Epel was less than amused.

“What? It's cool!”

Sebek shook his head in disapproval, resuming watching Epel as he started back on the dragon's head.

“It's a mug that looks like a mushroom, how is that exactly impressive?”

A soft whine left your throat as you pouted, cradling the mug to your chest.

“It's just cool, it looks like a fly agaric mushroom! Sam had other ones too!” You took out your phone and started swiping to your photos. “This one looks like a crimini mushroom, this one is just a green one, but it's still cool! And all their tops can be removed, aaaand Sam was selling mushroom coffee to go along with it—”

“Isn't one of the Leech brothers known for his fascination with fungi?” Sebek asked exasperatedly. “Which one was it?”

“Jade.” Epel answered, pausing to look at you from the corner of his eye and smirked. “Why don't you go show off to your boyf—”

“Shut up!” You crush some of the paper in your hands and toss it at his head. Epel softly giggled as it bounced off his head.

“I'm just teasin', besides he'd probably be more than happy to hear you rant about mushrooms. You do it all the time.”

You crossed your arms, huffing, “But I want to tell you guys, you're my friends!”

An evil smirk appeared on your lips, before quickly disappearing as you made a sad face.

“You know Sebek, Malleus would listen to me talk about mushrooms all the time.”

A wistful sigh left your mouth as you continued. “I would listen to him talk about gargoyles, and he would listen to me about mushrooms. He loved it too, he'd be so sad to know that no one is listening to his friend as attentively as he did.”

Epel rolled his eyes, watching as Sebek paled and internally panic. He kept focusing on his carved, counting under his breath.

“3, 2, 1…”

“Tell me all about your strange mushroom mug and drink! If just for the Young Master's sake!”

You brighten and smiled, immediately going on a tangent about the coffee you found at Sam's.

Unbeknownst to you, Jade at a nearby table had been listening in, smiling in bliss as you described the benefits of reishi mushrooms in place of espresso.

“What are you smiling about, Jade?” Floyd asked, popping a shrimp tempura into his mouth.

Jade sighed, twirling his pasta onto his fork. “Nothing in particular…”

“Just thinking about my pearl, and how wonderful they are…”

It was a good thing most students steered clear of their table, otherwise there would be a wild amount of rumor about who his 'pearl' was.

Floyd peered over Jade's shoulder, watching as you animatedly waved your hands about.

“Hmm? What are they talking about?”

“Mushrooms~”

Floyd cringed at his brother, both because of the mention of mushrooms, and the lovesick look on his face.

“You're both so fucking weird, match made in heaven I guess.”

[fic-dumpster]

Deer in headlights | Short stories: Public disturbance

1k+ words || Bonten x Reader

fluff mostly, typical shenanigans, no beta and not edited, commas placed everywhere, tried to write it as gender-neutral as possible, let me know if I missed anything.

The thing about going shopping with Bonten is not the unnecessary stuff they buy nor the amount of attention they get; it's the bathroom. Every time you have to go to a public place, they don't let you go alone.

How many times have you heard women shriek in terror because you didn't notice Sanzu or Rindou following you inside the ladies’ washroom? The worst part was that they were surprised and asked what was wrong like it was the most normal thing to do, and they weren’t doing something inappropriate.

That's why you’re pulling Kokonoi with you. He's not going to intimidate the women occupying the bathroom, at least not like the other four waiting at the nearest bench. Takeomi, Sanzu, Kakucho, and Rindou remained with all the shopping bags there. Kokonoi could pass unnoticeable.

After buying some things and drinking three iced teas, of course, your bladder would be full, and you’ll have no other choice but to go with someone. Mikey and his orders about your safety. It’s not like the rest didn't agree with him.

Two doors and a lock later, you are in a stall with Kokonoi. The latter refused to turn around.

“Koko, just turn; I can't pee like this,” you grumbled.

“No, It’s weird to stare at the door,” Kokonoi replied.

“Then close your eyes!” But you didn't mean it like that because he did close his eyes, but the idiot didn't turn around.

You peed, staring at Kokonoi, who was trying to hold back his smile.

“See, it wasn't that bad,” Kokonoi said as he dried your hands together with his under one of those automatic air dryers, “you always make such a fuss.”

“Why do I feel you enjoy this,” you murmured, ignoring the previous statement.

And you were right. A wicked side smile adorned his face. Kokonoi basked in the privilege of being able to be alone with you, handpicked by you, only you, while the rest drowned in jealousy. Except for Sanzu. He was drowning in a strawberry and banana frappe, angrily slurping the chunks of frozen fruit that weren't properly triturated.

“Where are they? Kokonoi is taking too long with Y/N,” spat the Sanzu, suspecting the worst, “I bet my left sack that he’s having se-”

“A line in the bathroom? That happens often,” intruded Takeomi as he remembers a time when he had to take Senju to the bathroom. Why do women take so long? Internally wondered the scarred man.

Rindou and Kakucho groaned from carrying the most bags out of them and they also followed Sanzu’s line of thoughts. Three out of four men sighed in unison.

All laments were put to a halt by Takeomi’s phone ring. The screen showed Kokonoi’s name, and an unpleasant feeling stuck in the older man’s gut. It only worsened as soon as he picked up and heard your screams of desperation.

“Help!!! Takeomi!!!!!! I need your help!! It’s an emergency!!” you didn't give Takeomi time to ask any questions. You blurted out your location and ended the call after screaming for him to hurry.

Takeomi didn't notice the other three men present had leaned over to hear the conversation, and not a second later, Sanzu, Rindou, and Kakucho dashed towards the place you mentioned over the phone, leaving Takeomi with all the shopping bags, alone.

“Hurry up, Y/N needs-” Turning around, Takeomi realized he was talking to none but shopping bags. “Bastards.”

“I can't believe you snatched my phone for that,” Kokonoi massaged his temples, already expecting the dumbasses to show up guns blazing in the middle of a shopping mall after your call for help.

“But I am out of battery, and it's an emergency!!” you said.

“I don't think this qualifies as an emergency,” sighed Kokonoi as he eyed the crowd around him and the stage with colorful lights. “Besides, how are the rest supposed to find us?”

On cue, Sanzu’s obviously loud call of your name could be heard above the tumult of people. Kokonoi had to give them credit; that was pretty fast. He could recognize the pink mane not too far from where he stood and Rindou’s purple head too.

“Koko, do you see them?!” you grabbed his sleeves with urgency. “I can’t see! Let me—” You used him as a ladder, climbing until your eyes could see above the crowd.

Rolling his eyes, Kokonoi let you do as you pleased. What else was he supposed to do? Once your head popped up from above the crowd, you enthusiastically waved at the trio, beckoning them over. As soon as they were close enough to touch you, Sanzu, Rindou, and Kakucho surrounded Kokonoi, who was attempting to hold you in his arms, and began inspecting every inch of skin they could reach.

“You seem fine,” said Sanzu, holding your face in between his palms, pressing your cheeks until your lips puckered like a fish.

“Becaushh I am,” you mumbled with your fish lips, “pleash let my cheekshh go.”

Sanzu couldn't help but coo at you, and without any warnings, he planted little pecks on your lips, making Kokonoi frown, he sat first row for the PDA show.

“Enough! That's enough!” Shouted Rindou, prying Sanzu’s hands away from your face as Kokonoi moved with you still in his arms, separating you both. Kakucho stood there, watching Sanzu and Rindou fight while Kokonoi scolded Sanzu from afar.

“Have you no self-control?!” screamed Kokonoi.

“Like any of you have any when it comes to Y/N!” Sanzu defended himself.

“That’s true,” acknowledged Kakucho.

Everyone talking loudly on top of each other.

As the scene transpired, none noticed the circle of people who observed the whole thing. Some murmured about a lovers’ quarrel, while others about a kidnapping, and debated whether they should call security.

You, on the other hand, remembered why you called them in the first place.

Ah, right. You needed a charger. But none was paying attention to you, hanging like a chihuahua in Koko’s arms.

Not a minute later, security appeared and escorted everyone out for causing a public disturbance.

Takeomi watched the minutes pass by on a TV screen near the bench you all left him. With all the bags and now his own phone without battery, He wondered when would you all come back to pick up all the shopping bags.

[prythianpages]

Outta My Mind | Cassian

cassian x love witch reader | summary: Cassian has not been able to get you out of his mind and after receiving a gift, he decides to finally visit your shop and take you up on a love reading.

warnings: tarot reading, fluff

word count: roughly around 3,700

a/n: I am not experienced in tarot reading (I've only been on the receiving end and even then, it's been virtual) so I just pulled from google and what I've seen on tiktok. I apologize for any mistakes there and will happily fix them!

As Cassian has breakfast with his family at the Riverhouse, the usual lively chatter fills the room. Feyre was talking about Nyx’s reaction to soft foods, Mor cooing after him and Azriel laughing when Nyx pulled her hair. Rhysand had gone to check who had rung the doorbell. Cassian’s mind was elsewhere, lost in thoughts of a mysterious witch.

It was bewildering, really. 

The way he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you, despite barely knowing you. Since he first set his eyes upon you at the bar, he felt something. He couldn’t pinpoint the feeling but after you crashed into him, it all seemed to click into place.

You, a love witch, had found him.  

Just two weeks ago, he had been wishing upon the stars for love, and there you were, shining brightly with promise.

Your business card has been sitting on his nightstand since the night he met you. The pink card is like a night light, its shimmer never fading. He stared at it every night before drifting off, torn between fear and hope, wondering whether he should take you up on your offer for a love reading.

Yet, you had failed to fulfill one of the promises you made—buying him a shirt to replace the one you had stained. He could care less about the shirt, though. A part of him had been hoping you’d find him again, stumble upon him like you did at Rita’s. Because now that you held the answers to his questions, a deep anxiety gnawed at him. What if what you had to say wasn’t what he wanted to hear?

Fate was a fickle thing. What if it wasn’t in his destiny to have a mate? To have love? What if the stars had sent you to pull him out of his delusion and deliver bad news?

“Looks like someone got a present,” Rhysand says as he walks into the dining room with a handful of mail and another holding a package. He waves the bright pink package, ears straining to hear the sound it gives for a clue.

“Oh, they shouldn’t have bothered!” Mor quips, leaning forward in her seat with a grin.

But Rhysand places the package in front of Cassian, shoving his empty breakfast plate aside. The clinking of silverware against porcelain makes Cassian blink, snapping out of his trance.

“You?” Mor says in disbelief, eyes widened slightly.

Everyone turns their head toward Cassian, his red siphons gleaming under the sudden attention. He stares at the package, feeling the weight of everyone’s curiosity.

“Well?” Feyre urges, shifting Nyx in her arms to lean over too. “What are you waiting for?”

“Who’s it from?” Azriel asks, his shadows fluttering toward him, also curious. Mor stands from her seat to peek at the name, frowning when she finds nothing but Cassian’s name on the package. Feyre and Rhysand exchange a glance, the latter shrugging in response.

Cassian swats at the nosey shadows. There’s no indication of the sender. Yet, he has an inkling, the color of the package nearly screaming it at him. Knowing the others would simply follow him to his room if he chose to open it in private, he unties the red bow. There’s a nervous flutter of excitement in his stomach as he opens it.

Inside, he finds three neatly folded white dress shirts. The first two were silky and almost identical to the one you had accidentally stained. The third shirt was different. Bold. It was a short-sleeve, sheer mesh shirt that glimmered in the light. A shirt he’d never buy himself but felt inclined to try on. 

“Shirts?” Rhysand questions with an amused chuckle.

As Cassian unfolds the shirts, he notices that all of them have carefully placed slits on the back to accommodate his wings, as if they’ve been tailored after being bought. His family watches, intrigued and amused. 

“Well, come on, Cas. Who’s it from?” Feyre prompts and the babe in her lap babbles as if asking the same question, his tiny hands smacking the table in delight.

The room seems to hold its breath as Cassian runs his fingers over the fabric. He feels the subtle hum of magic beneath his fingertips. “Someone,” he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“Someone I need to go see.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ★ ˏˋ˗ 

Cassian ignores his family’s protest as he rises from his seat. Strengthening the shields of his mind, he thought he heard a hint of disappointment from Feyre. He didn't want to tell them about you. Doing so would only invite more questions—questions he wasn't ready to answer, as he was unsure of them himself.

He doesn’t need to return to the House of Wind for your business card, the address of your shop engraved into his heart after reading it so many times. As he makes his way to you, there’s that nervous flutter in his stomach again. It accompanies him all the way to your shop, threatening to burst when he finally stands in front of the door.

The words “Moonlight Spellcrafts” on the sign above shimmered softly, beckoning him inside with an irresistible allure. Bells chimed as he pushed open the door, and inside, he was greeted by a sharp “meow.”

A fluffy white cat with the brightest of blue eyes and pink bow around its neck blinks up at him before darting away and chasing after something unseen to Cassian’s eyes. His gaze follows the cat's movement, lifting to find you.

A vision in pink like clouds at the break of dawn. 

You wore a halter top that offered teasing glimpses of constellations etched onto your back, while your bell-bottom pants flared out with fluffy trimmings, resembling wisps of cotton candy that swayed with every step. Your platform heels tapped softly on the polished wooden floor as you guided a customer toward the wall of potions.

You pause, most likely from the sound of the bells, and just as you turn your head, Cassian swiftly ducks out of view. He hides behind a shelf—a challenging feat given his size and stature. He folds his wings tightly against his back to make himself as small as possible. He carefully walks around your shop, stealing glances at you every time he can.

He tells himself it’s to walk off the nerves.

Much like you, your store is bathed in hues of pink as well as reds and deep purples. Shelves line the walls adorned with an array of mystical books, each tome brimming with ancient wisdom and spells of the heart. Tarot cards of all designs are on display and glittering crystals sparkle under the soft lights. They cast a warm, inviting glow over the array of potions you are still showing the customer.

Heart-shaped mirrors with gilded frames adorn one of the walls and when he catches a glimpse of himself, he hastily fixes his hair. The fluffy white cat from before pops out of nowhere, startling him. It watches him intently, as if sizing up the tall, Illyrian male before it. Had it been following him the entire time?

“Honey!” A voice cooes. 

Not yours.

He follows the voice anyway and meets the gaze of a young fae. Her skin is a soft green, intricate lines adorning her face. Dark hair, painted with bright fuchsia at the ends, seems to glow as she stares back at Cassian from behind the counter, raising her eyebrows inquisitively.

Cassian manages a small smile before quickly turning away, avoiding any further interaction. He finds himself along a back corner where rare herbs and jars of unknown substances are meticulously organized. The air there is thick with mingling scents of rose, lavender, and sandalwood, teasing his senses and lingering in his nose until he sneezes.

Loudly. Obnoxiously. He swears he hears a startled cry from one of the customers inside the shop.

His wings flare slightly, stirring the jars behind him. Eyes widening, he turns to stabilize them, only to accidentally knock over other jars with his wings. He winces at the clatter and the subsequent sound of your approaching footsteps.

˗ˏˋ ★ ★ ˏˋ˗ 

“Are you alright?”

Shards of glass scatter across the wooden floor, the moonwater inside splashing out and spreading in a widening pool that stops at your feet. But your attention is focused on the hunched over Illyrian male.

Cassian stands up straight, hints of scarlet painting his cheeks, his broad shoulders tensing. “I’m sorry. I can pay for this.”

Amusement dances in your eyes, finding this situation all too familiar. “You’ll have to take me to the moon.”

He nods, the sincerity in his expression making the corner of your lips quirk up. He has no clue over the contents he just spilled.

“Just kidding,” you say, giggling at the look of relief that flashes across his face. “It’s just moonwater. I can easily make more next full moon. We really have to stop meeting this way, though. It’s a bit too messy for my liking.”

At your words, Cassian moves to clean up the mess but you stop him by raising your hand. Pink stardust flares out from your other hand as you summon a broom. You lean it against your hip, hesitating for a bit. With a hopeful look in your eyes, you snap your fingers, bracing yourself. Just in case.

Cassian can't help but take a step back. Also just in case as he recalls the way your magic had failed in cleaning up the stain on his shirt. But much to your relief, the spilled moon-water magically disappears. "Oh, thank The Cauldron," you murmur, sweeping the glass shards into one small pile before snapping that away too.

The sigh that leaves your lips is one of great relief. You wipe at the nonexistent sweat from your forehead. With a sweet smile, you look back at Cassian.

“I’m assuming you got my gift.”

“You didn’t have to, you know. I was also joking.”

“I wasn’t." Your smile falters. "I take fashion very seriously here, General.”

Cassian looked over your pink outfit again, trying his best to ignore the flutter in his stomach at the way you said his title. “Clearly,” he replies. “How did you know where to find me?”

“Magic.” You grin up at him, waving your fingers at him in a teasing manner.

His gaze narrows skeptically and you shrug in response. “Your wings and siphons gave you away. There’s not many Illyrians here in Velaris. Just the High Lord, the Shadowsinger and the Lord of Bloodshed. And given that the High Lady was not with you and the lack of shadows around you and the way red suits you, I took an educated guess. It was easy to find you then.”

“Where’d you find the shirts?” He asks, giving into his curiosity. Though, he really wanted to ask how you knew they would fit. Not just his broad frame but his wings as well.

“Another perk of there being a few Illyrians in Velaris. I bought the shirts from a boutique up the street and then I visited a couple of tailor shops until I found the one familiar with dressing certain Illyrians. That’s why it took me a bit to get them to you. I do hope you like the third one. A little bold but I think you’d look great in it.”

Cassian’s gaze softens, touched by the lengths you went to keep your promise. “Cassian,” he says after a moment. “You can call me Cassian.”

“Okay, Cassian,” you beam, feeling a warmth spread through you at his name on your lips. “You can call me y/n, dear, spell-slingin’ sweetheart or just sweetheart. Whatever tickles your fancy.”

“Just don’t call me bewitching babe,” you add as an afterthought, nose scrunching up in a small grimace. “Or I’ll have to hex you.”

Cassian’s brows raise slightly, interest piqued, wondering how someone could ever get on your bad side. “Noted, y/n, ” he nods and you give an appreciative grin.

“I believe I also promised you a love reading, didn't I?"

You point your hand up and to the right, Cassian’s eyes following the movement to a vibrant neon sign that reads, “Love This Way.” The words are written in cursive, each letter beholding a string of small, glowing bulbs that twinkle like enchanted stars. The phrase is flanked by a trio of heart-shaped neon lights, each one pulsing and pointing toward dark, red curtains.

˗ˏˋ ★ ★ ˏˋ˗ 

Right. The reason why he came to you. Well, one of them, at least. The longer he lingers in your presence, the stronger the pull he feels towards you, blurring the line of reason. 

“Come on,” you beckon him to follow you but Cassian can’t bring himself to move. 

Sensing his hesitation, you pause, turning your head to look back at him from over your shoulder. “I don’t bite. Unless you ask me to.”

An odd yet thrilling shiver runs up Cassian’s side. His lips twitch upwards, indulging in the foreign sensation and then he’s following after you, careful to not knock anything else over.

"Can't say the same for the lovebugs that dwell in this place, though. Those sneaky little things love the element of surprise. They say it's luck if you're bitten by them. Means you've met your true love..."

As he walks behind you, he notices small altars dedicated to different aspects of love. Romantic love, self-love, platonic-love, erotic love... The flames dancing from the candles seem to burn with a life of their own, the ones from the passionate love alter swaying his direction as he walks past it.

You move gracefully, your presence as enchanting as your shop. There’s a pause in your step, the two of you reaching the dark, starry curtains. “Be a doll for me and tend to the front, will you, Moxie?” You call out, pointed ear twitching as you await a response.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Cassian hears the young fae from earlier grumble.

As you lean in close to Cassian, standing on your tip-toes, even in heels, he's reminded of just how much he towers over you. Your hair brushes against his leathers, red siphons softly glowing as he’s suddenly overwhelmed with the scent of roses and vanilla.

“She’s my little apprentice and a little upset that her spell went haywire and turned her hair fuschia instead of magenta.”

Cassian’s brows knit together. “What’s the difference?”

“I cannot believe you just said that!” You gasp in mock horror yet Cassian detects a subtle hint of sincerity in your tone.

“I can hear you, you know!”

You mouth a “whoops” to Cassian before exclaiming: “I’ll be in the back! Love you, my dearie!” 

Cassian watches in a curious, fascinated manner as you blow a kiss toward Moxie. Pink stardust glimmers and shimmers as it floats in the air, fluttering toward the young face. It meets her cheek with a small "mwah" and there's a softness on your features despite Moxie's groan that melts away at Cassian's earlier reservations.

His heart flutters in anticipation when you reach for his hand. Your fingers ghost over his wrist, sending a spark rushing through him, as you guide him forward while your other hand pushes the grand curtains back. 

“Don’t worry. This room is sound-proof,” you tell him. “Whatever you ask or speak will remain confidential. Cross my heart!”

Cassian’s eyes widen as he takes in the room that is also bathed in a palette of vibrant pinks and soft pastels. Yellow, glowing lights shaped like stars dangle from the ceiling and quotes of affirmations are framed along the walls. Two luxurious, bubblegum-pink sofas face each other, adorned with an assortment of colorful cushions in shades of turquoise, lavender, and blush. Between them, a low table draped with a velvet cloth holds an array of tarot cards, crystals, and other mystical tools, ready for the next reading.

“Have a seat,” you say, letting go of his wrist to seat yourself on the plush carpet. 

You had gestured to one of the sofas but Cassian follows after you, seating himself across from you. His large frame makes the small table look even smaller and there's a coy smile on your face. He wonders if you're thinking the same as him.

Dressed in black leathers with siphons and daggers hilted at his waist, Cassian sticks out like a sore thumb. Yet, despite his dark attire and rugged appearance, there’s an undeniable allure about him that seems to complement your ambiance.

Your eyes, wide and knowing, meet his. He swears for a moment your pupils formed a heart shape, but when he blinks, he finds them dilated into round circles. The star-shaped lights reflect in them, and he finds himself unable to look away.

“Is this your first time?”

“Yes.”

“Is there anything in particular you’d like to know?”

Yes.

“No.” 

You give him a skeptical look, sensing the lie simmering beneath his calm facade. You may just be able to hear his racing heart.  “Are you scared?”

Yes.

“No.” 

“Don’t be scared.”

“I’m not,” Cassian insists, though his heart is ringing in his ears.

Humor twinkles in your eyes as you easily see through his lie.

“I’ll go slow and talk you through it,” you say, your voice teasing yet reassuring. “I'd offer to hold your hand too, but unfortunately, I require both for this,” you add, reaching for the deck of cards. “We can do a broad reading.”

The sound of shuffling draws his gaze from your eyes to your hands. He watches, mesmerized by the fluidity of your movements. The cards seemed to whisper secrets only you can hear, the loose locks of your hair swaying gently from an invisible breeze. One card flies from your hands, and you catch it mid-air between two fingers.

You lay it before him with a raised brow. The Lovers.

"It seems you are destined for a profound connection. Something tells me it will be unexpected but undeniable.” 

A wave of relief washes over him, lifting a weight from his chest. There’s a small part of him that remains skeptical. It seemed too coincidental for you to pull that card during a love reading. The way he leaned forward slightly betrayed his doubt. 

He barely knew you, but he already found himself trusting you. There was something about you that was inherently relaxing, almost comforting—like the feeling of being at home. You sure were a master of creating a wonderful ambiance.

As you continued to lay out the cards that fly out, each one seemed to weave a story of passion and a deep bond. Cassian finds himself drawn into the narrative you’re spinning.

"Who is she?" he asks, his voice softer, more serious.

"Usually I can gather some general characteristics. I fear I'm at a blank here. But..." Your gaze narrows at the cards, studying them intently.  "She is someone who will challenge you, make you see the world differently. She'll walk you through all aspects of love. Someone who is closer than you think...” 

A shudder runs through you, those heart-shaped pupils returning for a brief moment. "You'll never feel alone again," you add, voice a mere whisper and tinged with a wistful longing.

Cassian feels a strange flutter in his chest, an unfamiliar sense of anticipation and yearning. "And when will I meet her?"

You draw the final card, lips curving into a pensive frown. “It's a little unclear. You may or may not have already met her.”

Cassian visibly relaxes, leaning backwards, his wings meeting the sofa behind him. At least it has been confirmed that there is someone for him. That's what had mattered the most to him.

His thoughts drift back to the days before in deep wondering. Could it have been the pretty fae at the bakery who had slipped an extra croissant in his order? No, she’s married... Maybe, it was the friend Emerie had brought to Valkyrie training yesterday morning…

You must sense the thoughts racing through his mind. “What’s your type?”

The question throws him off guard. He tilts his head thoughtfully. “I don’t have one.”

“What of your past lovers?”

“I fear there’s too many to recount them all. Do you remember yours?”

“It’s kind of in my nature to,” You laugh softly, a sound laced with a subtle bitterness that matches the distant look in your eyes. “There must have been important lovers in your life, though. Ones that lingered in your heart, beheld the title of something more…”

“My first girlfriend was a Valkyrie. She died in the great war.”

Your eyes glistened with sympathy and he hesitates, a mixture of contemplation and something unreadable flickering across his face before he continues. “My second girlfriend was strangely also a valkyrie. I trained her, taught her everything she knows. But it didn’t work out, she didn’t choose me…”

“It sounds like you do have a type to me,” you say, trying to lighten the situation. 

Judging by the look in your eyes, he knows you’re also familiar with the heartache that comes with past relationships. He catches the way your gaze flickers down to your soft, manicured hands, noting the fleeting light of wistfulness that crosses your features. 

You blink and suddenly your face lights up, beaming with hope. “Third time's a charm,” you remind him of the old saying and suddenly your entire face lights up, eyes beaming like a beacon of hope. You jump to your feet.

“Sizzling Cauldron!”

Cassian startles at your sudden outburst. He watches you as you begin to pace back and forth, murmuring to yourself. His ears strain to catch the words slipping from your glossy lips but he only catches “stars” and “wishes.” 

You look at him, eyes still shining bright.

“We were meant to be!”

Cassian’s heart skips a beat, his wings fluttering as he looks up at you. “What?”

“I was meant to find you–to help you find love.” You clarify, pointing a finger at him before letting out a delighted squeal. “I’ll be your wingwoman–well, wingless wingwoman, ha! This is going to be just wonderful!”

Cassian rises to his feet, watching as you continue to pace back and forth, moving your hands animatedly. He's sure you're burning a hole into the plush carpet. He looks at you in slight concern when you suddenly begin to speak in riddles, gaze flickering to the curtains behind you, contemplating if he should sneak out. Surely, you wouldn't notice in your current state...

"In a quest to help you find true love, I heed the guidance from the stars above. The Cauldron's blessing and The Mother’s gentle kiss I shall earn. And with my magic, I shall return. Once my strength begins to grow…what I seek, I too shall know!”

Cassian makes a face. “I’m not sure we’re speaking the same language here…” he trails off. But your excitement and joy are contagious.

“Help me, help you,” you clarify again, your pacing feet coming to a stop. The room seems to buzz with the energy of your determination.

You turn your body to face his, outstretching a hand. He eyes it for a moment. A jolt of energy passes between you two when he takes your hand in his, the red magic from his siphons dancing with your pink magic.

Your eyes lock, and for a moment, Cassian feels a deep, inexplicable connection.

 “So...what now? ” He asks, shaking off that feeling as he shakes your hand. It has to just be your power charming him, you're practically glowing. "Does this make us friends?"

You give his hand a squeeze, mirroring the hope that had tightened in his chest.

“The best of friends.”

a/n: Little do you know that the true love you're meant to help him find is literally you lol. I live for the irony in this. Also, hope Cas isn't too out of character. I just needed him to vibe with love witch in the beginning of this au. She's a little delulu but I hope you love it as much as I love writing it <3

Since I live for the aesthetic of this au, I put the pictures I used for inspo for love witch's shop below.

[mrkis]

nct dream reaction :: being teased by their s/o

𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗗? 〚𝗬𝗘𝗦✗〛/ 〚NO〛 ⟶ nct dream reacting to their s/o being bratty? love your work ♡ much hugs for you!

𝗔𝗡| love you! also, i somewhat changed it a little bit of this req because i hardcore struggled thinking of something bratty without repeating myself. however, i still tried to make it as interesting and pussy dripping as i could. hope you don't mind!

𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗞

Mark has a lot of patience, especially since being the leader of six other members who constantly try to get under his skin every second of the day. So, automatically, he has a lot of patience when it comes to you too. But there's just something about today specifically that's letting your bratty nature get to him, his jaw clenching and fingers tightening around his pen as he tries to scribble down lyrics for a new song he's working on while your own wandering fingers are touching his body, riling him up.

Kun's sitting at the desk in front of you both, chunky headphones sitting on his head that bobs gently to each beat he tests out, taking no notice in either of you as he's too sucked into his work, unlike Mark who so desperately tries to be on the sofa behind, elbowing you every time your hand sneaks between his thighs, groping the flesh to tease him.

"Babe" He warns, voice low and sultry as he suddenly grips your wrist, catching you off guard. He puts his face closer to yours, tilting his head to the side as he whispers, "Do it again and I'll make you regret it"

𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗝𝗨𝗡

Watches you expressionlessly with his arms crossed over his chest as you try your hardest to rile him up in public, trying to make him crack and break. Renjun keeps his eyes locked on yours to slightly intimidate you, to make you quit your little flirtatious and teasing antics towards him. He's hard, without a doubt, his cock is straining uncomfortable in his pants but he's known for his poker face, so he keeps up his own act, pretending how everything you were doing wasn't getting to him like you hoped it would.

"Just give in" You whisper to him, stroking his face tenderly with a grin as his eyes narrow at you. "You can try to hide it but I know if I shove my hands down your pants right now, your cock will be hard and ready for me to take... isn't that right, Renjun?"

Renjun's tongue prods his cheek at your sultry tone, shaking his head with a chuckle, façade dropping slightly before he leans closer to your face, "You think you have it all worked out, don't you? When you truly know that all I have to do is touch you and you'll be done for... try me, baby... do it"

𝗝𝗘𝗡𝗢

Sits back with his hands in his lap as you act up in front of him, eyes never leaving your figure as you tease him with your mood comments and flirtatious gestures towards the Haechan who sits on the opposite side of the couch in amusement. His tongue prods at his cheek when he sees your hand float a little too closely to Haechan's inner thigh and the latter, as sneaky and teasing as he was, provokes the situation even more by shuffling closer to you, your hand almost touching the front of his pants.

Joy fills you seeing Jeno so affected by your ways, excitement buzzing through your veins when you think about the punishment you'll receive later on in the bedroom. You want everything Jeno can give you which is why you send Haechan a look that he immediately understands, testing the waters even more as he goes to grab your hand.

"Let him touch you and I'll fuck you open over the coffee table, and trust me... i will not let you cum"

𝗛𝗔𝗘𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡

Haechan's gaming time was supposed to be over a few minutes ago, but truthfully, he stayed on a little longer because he enjoys hearing and watching you get bratty. You're mumbling complaints after complaints, a playful pout present on your features as you scoff and twist around in the bed, burying your head into the pillow as you grumble about how he never does anything for you and threatening to grab your vibrator from your nightstand drawer if he wasn't going to please you.

He laughs as he stands from his gaming chair, stretching out his back as he walks over to the bed, tauntingly crawling above the sheets and slithering between your legs that open upon his arrival. His grips your thighs, squeezing the flesh in his palms as he smiles,

"You want me that bad?" Haechan teases, smiling even wider as you begin to snap at him, shushing you by dragging you closer to him, pressing the front of his boxers to your ass, the bulge growing with each subtle grind, "Show me how bad you want me"

𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗠𝗜𝗡

Can't stop the genuine smile that spreads across his face as he realises what you're doing, elbows resting on the table as he watches you flaunt around the kitchen dressed in his shirt and your underwear, purposely bending over all surfaces possible to show off your ass. You've been at this all morning, giving him slight attitude and teasing him with your gestures and items of clothing that you knew he liked seeing on you. It didn't fully click in his mind what exactly was going on until he caught you sighing to yourself, mumbling quietly about how all your efforts to get fucked had been for nothing. But you weren't a quitter, you don't give up. And Jaemin loves that about you.

"You're so cute" Jaemin admits after sitting in silence for so long, grin widening as you finally turn to face him with a glare.

"I wasn't trying to be cute. I want to be sexy..." Your voice trails as you walk up to him, standing between his spread legs as he shifts in the chair. Your hands come up to tangle in his hair, "I want to be enticing... irresistible... tempt—"

"Are you going to keep talking?" Jaemin cuts you off, tongue poking out to wet his bottom lip as his hands trail up your thighs, squeezing the flesh of your ass, "Or are you going to let me give you what you've been desperately craving?"

𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗡𝗟𝗘

"Hey, what are you doi—stop, I'm trying to—" Chenle sighs heavily as you sit on his lap, disrupting him from watching a show on his phone, shoving your head in front of his to block his view of the screen. He laughs softly, "Are you serious?"

You don't answer him as your arms curl around his shoulders, grinding your hips down onto his and smirking at you hear the sharp intake of breath, his hands coming down to grip waist. You've been trying to make him give you all of his attention when he had came over to stay for the night, expecting your time to be filled with cuddles and make-out sessions which you, with your fingers crossed tightly, hoped it would lead into him dicking you down. You craved him so badly, wanting to his cock stretch you out and make you see stars. You yearned for his touch, his lips, his attention.

"I want you to want me, Chenle" You tell him, letting out a soft moan when you feel the drawstrings on his pants graze against your clit. "I want you to want me as much as I want you"

"You're so greedy" He tuts, letting his phone fall out of his hands and onto the sheets as he grips you tightly, pulling you closer to him. "Can you ride me? Remind me of how pretty you look bouncing on top of me"

𝗝𝗜𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚

"You're... you're acting this way because I wont let you give me head?" Jisung asks in disbelief, pointing his finger at himself as you finally admit to why you've been acting so weird this late evening. Jisung has never seen you act in such a way: feeling him up, sending him already saved naked pictures of yourself, whispering dirty little things in his ear every time you brush past him. Especially with how he's always been so giving and tends to your needs whenever you ask him. He would do anything you asked of him.

But today was a little bit different. He was busier than usual, wanting to get chores over and done with. (chores that were actually supposed to be done a few days ago but got so side tracked doing other things) So Jisung couldn't really give you his full attention. He thought that maybe you were horny and wanted him to go down on you or something, but he didn't expect you to act so bratty and tease him all because you wanted to give him head.

"Yes" You sigh as if it was the most obvious thing, dropping to your knees and tugging on the zipper of his jeans, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you look up at him with pleading eyes, "Let me suck your cock... please?"

©𝗠𝗥𝗞𝗜𝗦

[dresshistorynerd]

Roughly 10 Cool Historical Queer Figures More People Should Know About

Part 1 - From Ancient Era to Early Modern Era

In spirit of Pride Month here's some snippets of queer history I think are interesting.

I've been working on a series of deep dives into interesting historical queer figures, but I haven't had the time to continue my list after the first entry about Julie d'Aubigny. I do want to continue with it, but I came to the realization that I will never have to time to do all the cool and interesting figures in depth, since there's too many, so I decided to do a list with brief descriptions about some of my favorite figures who are not that well known. Some of them are more well-known than others but I think they all deserve more acknowledgement.

I was able to trim down the number of figures to (roughly) 20, which was still too many for one post, so it's two posts now. They are in chronological order, so this part is set mostly before Victorian Era and the second part will be from Victorian Era onward.

This list is centered around western history (but not exclusively) because that's the history I'm most familiar with, though it's definitely not all white, since western history is not all white. I will be avoiding using modern labels, since they are rarely exactly applicable to history, rather I will present whatever we know about these figures' gender, sexuality and relationships. If there's information about what language they used about themselves, I will use that. Often we don't know their own thoughts, so I will need to do some educated guess work, but I will lean towards ambiguity whenever evidence is particularly unclear. If you are the type of person who gets angry with the mere suggestion there's a possibility that a historical gnc person might not have been cis, I encourage you to read my answers to related asks (here and here) first before sending me another identical ask. Try to at least bring some new arguments if you decide to waste my time with your trans erasure.

1. Khnumhotep and Niankhkhnum (latter half of 2400 BCE)

Khnumhotep and Niankhkhnum were ancient Egyptian royal servants, and possibly the first recorded gay couple in history known by name. They shared the title of Overseer of the Manicurists in the Palace of King Nyuserre Ini. They both had a wife and children, but they (along with their families) were buried together in a tomb. The tomb decorations show them similarly as other afterlife couples.

2. Marinos the Monk (c. 5th-8th century)

Marinos the Monk was born as Marina somewhere in eastern parts of Byzantine Empire, likely in the Levant. He was from a wealthy Christian family, possibly Coptic. Assigned female at birth his widowed father planned to marry him off and go to a monastery himself, but he convinced his father to take him with him dressed as a boy named Marinos. His father agreed and they were accepted as monks. After his father died many years later, he continued his life as a male presenting monk. Later he was accused of fathering an illegitimate child with a daughter of an innkeeper, which was not possible, but he didn't revoke the accusations, instead he begged for the abbot's forgiveness for "his sins". Marinos was banished from the monastery and became a beggar. For 10 years he raised his alleged illegitimate child as a father, until he was allowed to return to the monastery and do penance. Only after his death the abbot and the monks discovered his genitals and his inability to father children and were distraught for punishing an innocent man for 10 long years. The real father was discovered and along with the innkeeper and his daughter they all came to honor Marinos' grave and ask his forgiveness. He was canonized as a saint for his sacrificial selflessness, modesty and humility and honored across the Mediterranean from Ethiopia to France.

3. Mubārak and Muẓaffar al-Saqlabi (c. 10th - 11th century)

Mubārak and Muẓaffar were co-rulers of Taifa of Valencia in Muslim Spain. Al-Saqlabi means literally "of the Slavs", which in Al-Andalus was a general term for enslaved northern Europeans, as the two had been enslaved as children. They were in the service of another al-Saqlabi, a chief of police, and they worked they way up as civil servants till a local military coup in 1010, which resulted in them becoming the emirs of Taifa of Valencia. English language sources often describe them as "brothers" and "eunuchs", which gives the "historical gal pals" trope a concerning twist, but contemporary Muslim sources wrote fawningly about their passionate love, trust based on equality and mutual devotion. There was a popular genre of homoerotic poetry in the Islamic world at the time and poems in that genre were written about celebrating Mubārak and Muẓaffar's relationship. In 1018 Mubārak was killed in a riding accident and Muẓaffar shortly after in an uprising.

4. Eleno de Céspedes (1545 – died after 1589)

CW: genital inspection

Eleno was born in Andalusia, Spain, to an enslaved black Muslim woman and to a free Castillian peasant. He was assigned female at birth, given name Elena, and branded as a mulatto born to a slave. She was freed as a child and married to a stonemason at 15-16 years old. When pregnant, her husband left her and died a while later. Later Eleno testified that his intersex condition became externally visible, while he gave birth, and he became a man. He left his son to be raised by a friend and traveled around Spain. After he stabbed a pimp and ended up in jail, he started presenting as a man and openly courting women. Eventually he taught himself to be a surgeon with the help of a surgeon friend.

When he married María del Caño, his maleness was questioned and he was subjected to genital inspection multiple times and it was agreed by doctors that he had definitely male genitals, possibly also female genitals. After a year of marriage the couple was accused of sodomy. Eleno was tried by the Spanish Inquisition and subjected to more genital inspections, during which no penis was found. He claimed that his penis had been amputated after an injury. He defended himself in the trial by arguing that his intersex condition was natural and he had become a man after his pregnancy, so his marriage was legal. He was sentenced only for bigamy, since he had not confirmed that his husband was dead and punished as a male bigamist with 200 lashes and 10 years of public service to care for the poor in a public hospital. His fame attracted a lot of people wanting to be healed by him, which which was very embarrasing for the hospital so he was sent away and eventually exonerated from his charges.

7. Chevaliére d'Éon (1728-1810)

Charles d'Éon de Beaumont was born to a poor French noble family. In their 20s they became a government official and at 28 they joined the secret spy network of the king, Secret du Roi. They became a diplomat first in Russia and later in Britain while they used their position to spy for the king. Rumors circulated in London that they were secretly a woman. While in London they had a falling out with the French ambassador, accused him of attempted murder and published secret diplomatic correspondence. They were instead accused of libel and went into hiding. After the death of Louis XV in 1774 and the abolishment of Secret du Roi, d'Éon negotiated with the French government of the end of their exile in exchange for the rest of the secret documents he possessed. D'Éon took the name Charlotte, claimed she was in fact a cis woman - she had pretended to be man since a child so she could get the inheritance - and demanded the government to recognize her as such. When the king agreed and included funds for women's wardrobe, she agreed and returned to France in 1777. After that she helped rebels in the American War of Indepence - was not allowed to ]go and fight too, ghostwrote her not super reliable memoir, offered to lead a division of female soldiers against the Hasburgs in 1792 - was for some reason denied, attended fencing tournaments till 65 years old and settled down for the rest of her years with a widow, Mrs. Cole. After her death a surgeon reported that she had male primary sex characteristics, but fairly feminine secondary sex characteristics, like round breasts, which might suggest she had hormonal difference/was intersex in some way.

8. Public Universal Friend (1752-1819)

Public Universal Friend, or The Friend or PUF, was born as Jemima Wilkinson to Quaker parents in Rhodes Island, USA. Jemima contracted a disease in 1776, gained intense fever and almost died. The Friend claimed that she did die and God sent the Friend to occupy her body. The Friend didn't identify as man or a woman, and when asked about the Friend's gender, the Friend said "I am that I am". The Friend didn't want any gendered pronouns or gendered language to be used about the Friend. The Friend's pronouns, according to the writings of the Friend's followers, were "the Friend", "PUF" and possibly he. First recorded neo-pronouns perhaps? The Friend also dressed in androgynous/masculine manner.

The Friend started a bit cultish religious society disavowed by mainstream Quakers, The Society of Universal Friends, which I can only describe as chaotic good. The Friend first predicted a Day of Judgement would come in 1780 and when 1780 came and went, the Friend decided it was New England's Dark Day in 1780 and they had survived survived the Judgement Day so all was good then. The Friend preached for gender equality, free will, universal salvation (Jesus saved everyone and no one will go to hell) and abolition of slavery. The Friend persuaded any followers to free their slaves, which is probably the most chaotic good thing a potential cult leader can do with their influence over their followers, and several freed black people followed the Friend too. The Friend advocated for celibacy and was unfavorable towards marriage, but didn't think celibacy or rejection of marriage were necessary for everyone else, so it feels more like a personal preference. Many young unmarried women followed the Friend and some of them formed Faithful Sisterhood and took leadership positions among the Society.

The Society of Universal Friends tried to form a town for themselves around mid-1780s, till in 1799 the Friend was accused of blasphemy. The Friend successfully escaped the law two times. First the Friend, a skilled rider (what's a gender neutral version of horse girl?), escaped with a horse, then after an officer and an assistant tried to arrest the Friend at home, women of the house drove the men away. Third time 30 men surrounded the Friend's home at night, but a doctor convinced them that the Friend was in too poor health to move but would agree to appear at court. The Friend was cleared for all charges and even allowed to preach at the court.

9. Mary Jones (early 1800s–1853)

Mary Jones' origin is unknown, but she was an adult in 1836 in New York, USA. She was a free Black person, who preferred to present as a woman. She was sex worker by trade and used a prosthetic vagina. As a side hustle she would steel her customer's wallets, and usually they wouldn't tell anyone because it was 1830s and inter-racial sex and prostitution were illegal and everyone was repressed. Smart. Get your coin, girl. However after one of her more shameless customers discovered his wallet with 99 dollars inside had been replaced with a different man's empty wallet and contacted the police, she was arrested. The police discovered she had male genitals and when they searched her room they found several more stolen wallets. She appeared in court in her female presentation and when asked about her dress, she said that prostitutes she had worked with encouraged her to dress in women's clothing and said she looked better in them. They were right and she had since presented as a woman in her evening profession and among other Black people. She was convicted for grand larceny and sentenced to 5 years in prison. Later she continued to present as a woman and practice sex work, for which she was arrested for two more times.

10. George Sand (1804-1876)

George Sand was pen name of Amantine Lucile Aurore Dupin de Francueil, a French Romantic writer. Amantine was high-born with a countess as a grandmother. George wrote about themself with alternating masculine and feminine language, using feminine language when talking about his childhood, but masculine language often other times. Their friends also used both masculine and feminine terms about them. Victor Hugo for example said about them: "George Sand cannot determine whether she is male or female. I entertain a high regard for all my colleagues, but it is not my place to decide whether she is my sister or my brother." George preferred men's clothing in public, which was illegal for those seen as women without a permit, but they didn't ask for permissions. They alternated between masculine and feminine presentations. They were outspoken feminist, critic of the institution of marriage, committed republican and supporter of worker's rights. They were married at age 18, had two children and left their husband in 1831, but legally separated from him in 1835. They had many affairs with men and some with women, at least with actress Marie Dorval. Their most notable relationship was with Frédéric Chopin, but they fell out before Chopin's death.

[raayllum]

Moon Arcanum Callum + Sun Arcanum Claudia in S7?

Callum getting the Moon arcanum has been a fandom... not theory, but shall we say, prospect, since even before S4. Some of this was because of the seeming set up in previous seasons, such as:

Callum having a hunch that the cube wasn't glowing due to the Moon, and being our first hint at illusions on the Cursed Caldera (1x09)

Lujanne explaining the secret of the arcanum (as she understands it) to him in 2x02

Callum doing moon arcanum spells (3x08, Through the Moon) much the way he did Sky spells before unlocking that arcanum

Callum employing aspects of the Moon arcanum in his plans (3x01 with tricking Sol Regem, creating the illusion pearl in 6x01)

His growing relationship and understanding with Rayla, and potential involvement with her family/village

But especially:

This is of course already reflected in spades in his arc as a mage. Everyone, Lujanne included, believes that humans can't do magic. She treats this as absolute fact and destiny, but Callum perceives it as subjective truth; why can't he just make his own connection and do magic anyway? And in doing so, he changes the world. He creates a radically new, better reality.

With season seven's synopsis on sacrifice and life and death, both things we see tied heavily to Moonshadow culture and the Moon itself, I could see Callum connecting to the Moon arcanum next season for a few reasons (and potentially Claudia with the Sun arcanum, which I'll get to after). So let's get into it.

Precursor

Previously, if Callum was going to connect to the Moon arcanum, I'd speculated it'd mostly be around ideas of the consistency of Love (light or dark, the moon is always the moon) and his love for Rayla being his light in the darkness / the one constant truth of his life. I don't think this anymore, obviously, because we got all those things through the Star truth light ritual beat for beat and we're not going to be repeating, but I did think it'd be worthwhile then to revisit what a Moon arcanum could mean for Callum under new context / emotional epiphanies. I've also always thought either Earth or Sun would suit Claudia, but leaned more towards the latter, so we're gonna talk about that, too.

Truth and Lies and Aaravos

As Lujanne explains in 2x02, the Moon arcanum is understanding the true nature of the relationship between appearances and reality, and we can only understand the appearance itself. This feels like a very fitting idea to come back to with Aaravos, who ostensibly never lies but routinely withholds or presents not entirely correct information. "How may I serve you?" when you're just going to be a pawn. Not telling a mourning Claudia that he was indeed the one who killed Viren so that she'll continue to do his bidding, with Claudia asserting that Aaravos "didn't lie" about the ritual in 6x01, and he didn't. We also see him wield the truth as a weapon with people like Khessa ("would you like to know the truth of her fate before you meet yours?") and Sol Regem (more on that here.)

Everything that he says is truth to him, and then he lifts it up as being objectively true (i.e. you're destined to play into my hands) even when it isn't necessarily true. We can also see Callum veering into mindsets that Claudia and Viren have had, where he believes he's past the point of saving ("I'm ruined, it's too late for me" "Promise me you'll kill me") or removing his own agency by admission ("Finnegrin was going to kill you, I didn't have a choice" / "Every step forward is a choice").

Callum understanding Aaravos' or others' actual truths versus their lies and the ones he's believing could be very fitting in S6, especially if he might be learning more about the existence of the Cosmic Council and who made their world the way it is. I think his existence may help lead to that "slow spiral of chaos" but that it won't be just or even Bad at all the way they'd feared, etc.

Claudia is also linked to lies and truth. She lies to others, but Aaravos notes that "If you tell the truth you will lose her," and she goes looking for her own deep truth in S6, but doesn't seem to fully find it. Terry asks her "What do you need to find your one deep truth?" and Claudia says that she needs her dad, but she and her mother have also made it clear that she "needed to stay with Soren" and her family (vs Viren telling her to pick the egg over Soren). With Viren gone and Aaravos manipulating her, Soren could easily be one of her guiding lights next season or in future seasons.

The Pearl

The moon is analogous, framing/appearance wise, to the prison. This is alluded to in 5x09 through framing, and then made even more direct in 6x09: Aaravos escapes his prison thanks to Claudia and (unbeknownst to her) she has become the prisoner, much like how Callum may physically free himself from chains in 5x08 but magically/emotionally chains himself further to Aaravos, or Viren shouting while in chains that he's finally free of the dark puppetmaster.

Basically, when Callum says in 6x01 that he's inside the pearl, I don't think (as of S6 / probably first half of S7 at least) that he's ever gotten out of it. Aaravos uses him even after his nightmare, and we know thanks to the pawn intro that Aaravos' final machinations for Callum also haven't yet come to play. I've been wondering if the Aaravos intro is going to change in S7, since he's out of his prison — and it still may — but if we look at it from the angle of Callum and Claudia both being stuck within the moon/pearl rather than just Aaravos himself, maybe it could stay.

And if Callum is stuck inside the moon-pearl, shattering it by understanding the arcanum ("the whole world is like a giant primal stone, and we're inside of it, and it's also in us") and/or with Claudia moving to the opposite of the moon could be useful, especially since Karim is a corrupted sun in his own way. Speaking of which let's talk about

Light and Dark

We know thanks to Claudia that black and white, or light and dark, are not always clear cut. Her hair thanks to her dark magic use changes like phases of the moon, with the light being bad and the dark being good. Conversely, her path is a dark one with the path of truth and light being withheld from her. In a similar manner, we see Callum's light (Rayla) being what led him into dark magic use and what led him out of it, and will likely see this pattern play out again. Aaravos is a representation of a path of darkness, but we also see the cube flashing a bright light in the pawn intro, tying light and darkness together for him as well.

Callum's understanding of himself that he gained through the Ocean arcanum can not simply become untrue or disappear, so I think recognizing that darkness isn't all he is ("I'm ruined" / "your heart's not full of darkness" "Neither is yours") even if there are dark parts of him and of his life would be fitting. It also seems that could be helpful with Claudia as well, and even characters like Ezran, who will have to wrestle with darker parts of his emotions/personality next season as well with Runaan. They've all got light and dark inside them, and learning how to walk in that balance and still break away from the Cycle / Aaravos is useful. As Ezran said in 4x03:

I just want to yell stop. But that’s not enough. It won’t work. I think about a positive vision, a faith we can all share, that we might build a future together in hope. A future where we can be safe with each other.  But… It’s not that easy or simple. Because people are still hurting and they are still angry. We can’t ignore that, or pretend it will go away. Somehow, we have to hold it all in our hearts at the same time. We have to acknowledge the weight of the pain and loss, but open up our eyes and allow ourselves to hope and maybe forgive and love again. We have to give today’s children a chance to inherit a future filled with peace. To give them that, we have to hold pain and love in our hearts at the same time.

Claudia's love for her family led her to ruin, but it can also save her through Soren. Callum's love for Rayla led him to ruin, but it has also saved him (and again, we'll likely repeat this pattern). Ezran's love for his father will lead him to anger but also pull him out of it, just as Viren's love for his son caused him to begin his journey of terrible things, but also guided him to do one final, truly right thing by the end.

Love is light and dark. Claudia, who's been walking in shadow, needs the full light - the sun, in the form of her brother. She needs to accept and see the truth of what's happening and step fully into the light. Callum, who has been routinely worried of the dark within him, needs to the reminder that he's not all he is, that he has light of his own inside. In doing so, he can break Aaravos' control over him and give hope to any other dark mages / humans in general that no level of corruption is too late to come back from, and that there is always light amid the darkness.

Life and Death

The stakes have never been higher as Aaravos and Claudia are on the warpath, determined to destroy the Cosmic Order and invert life and death. With the world’s fate on the line, our heroes must be ready to sacrifice everything to save it.

In Bloodmoon Huntress, we get a very different peek into how the secret of the Moon arcanum can be thought of through Runaan, who is peak Moonshadow-sacrifice elf man:

Moonshadow form is only achieved when we understand the balance of life against death. Balance is weight against weight, and to understand the weight of death you must feel the weight and value of another's life. Think of those you love, of who you hold most dear. Now think of the souls who have touched your life. Understand that each time your weapon meets its target, each time we fulfil our duty, the potential for that soul to change a life—to love another—is gone. We may remove hate, but we remove the potential for love as well. Moonshadow form is only achieved when we reconcile this balance between life and death.

While Claudia with her hair and dark mage-assassin parallels could unlock the Moon arcanum—especially if her perspectives continue to change—I think Callum as the Protagonist is better placed at this time to be the one to understand the balance between life and death in a season where the antagonists are trying to invert/destroy it. Him therefore understanding appearances and changes, how to control his own and see through others', understanding that balance between life and death, feels very fitting.

Callum's fear of Aaravos and dark magic comes from the fear that he's changing—"I hope you're careful, cause [magic] can change people" / "the corruption takes innocent creatures and changed them"—and that death would be better for him than life if he goes too far. Learning these things aren't the case and that he can get back to the middle (and indeed, "real trust is about accepting even the dark parts we will never know" could be about Rayla accepting he may not entirely swear off dark magic again, the same way Viren kept that door open to do Good) would be useful.

It would also mean the two mage characters most drawn into Aaravos' darkness get the Moon and Sun—the arcanums most associated with light—to banish said darkness as well. Claudia finally being an uncorrupted light and chasing life, not death, and Callum, learning how to be balanced and that he can maintain his identity / use Aaravos' book and key without fearing that he'll lose control.

The fact that Claudia's eclipse imagery only started the same episode she lost her brother, and that her Laurelion dragon-scale necklace is very Sunfire-y looking...

Conclusion

TDP for Callum and Claudia has always felt like a parallel coming-of-age mage story between the two of them, leading to the amount of similarities and diverging plot beats the two have, down to doing the same spell at the same time but in different locations in S6. The Sun arcanum is associated with truth, light, and healing, whereas the Moon arcanum is associated with change, life + death, and secrets/love. All of these things could be nicely brought to a head with Callum and Claudia each unlocking an arcanum of Moon and Sun respectively, showcasing their differences, their continued room to grow, and light amid the darkness.

While I could see alternatives like Sun for Callum and Moon for Claudia, Stars for Callum or no arcanum for either of them, I think these are the ones that fit best at this time / Stars will likely get saved for arc 3 given that arc 3 will probably focus more on rewriting destinies and the Cosmic Order as antagonists.

As always hope you enjoy and Dragons out!

[constantinerkives]

PAIRING: Swim Team Captain! Yoo Jimin x Photojournalist! Fem reader _________________ WARNINGS: College AU, tsundere Karina, strangers to lovers trope, and fluff. OC is Pisces-coded but has a Capricorn rising sign and Capricorn Mercury because I am too, random I know but anyways, profanity, Jimin is aloof but cute and I like it, profanity, that's pretty much it, I guess. _________________ SYNOPSIS: Who knew falling into the pool was one surefire way of getting the swimming team captain's eye. _________________ A/N:

You asked I shall deliver. I based this one-shot on a song: Rose, by Taeyong and Seulgi. Have fun reading!

"Will it be okay for you to fill in Ryujin's stead?" Wendy, the senior EIC of the school paper, asks with her fingers knotted atop her office desk. "She got sick two days ago. I know it's sudden, and I understand if you don't-"

"I'll do it," You tell the older girl with a polite smile, "If my memory serves me correctly - she was assigned to take pictures of the inter-school competition of our swimming team, yes?"

Wendy mirrors your smile, albeit warmer. Her posture relaxed. "Yes. Yes, Y/N. And it's this weekend." 

You recount your task, "Then you're in luck, Wendy. I'm free this weekend." 

The brunette heaves a sigh of relief, "Good. That will be all, Miss Choi. You can go." You bowed your head in acknowledgment before exiting her office and proceeded to the university library to meet with your friend and confidant: Yunjin, who needs a copy of your captured photos for the school paper. 

"There you are," You whisper and sit next to the younger raven-haired beauty who's busy typing on her laptop. "What did Wendy want from you?" The latter inquires without tearing her eyes from the screen. "A substitute for Ryujin," You answer her as you lean next to her; eyes following the sea of words that showed events during the last competition. "Are you almost done?"

The raven-haired beauty mutters something decipherable, and you just let her be. 

"Okay," She stretches her back and gestures an open palm toward you. "The USB?"

You arch a brow at her, "Please?"

She mirrors your expression, "The USB, please, Y/N?"

A teasing grin graces your lips as you fish for it in your jacket pocket and give it to her. "Jeez," The latter grumbles before plugging it into her laptop. "Where and what?"

"Here at our university. I'll be taking the pictures of our swimming team." 

Finally, Yunjin tears her eyes off her screen and blinks at you. "A sports-based competition?" She muses, "That's a first." 

Indeed, for years that you've been a photojournalist, you were assigned to academic-based competitions. "That means you get to see Yonsei's pride." 

"Younsei's - what?"

She gives you a look, "For a journalist, you're not updated with the times here, Y/N. What would Wendy say?"

You scowl at her, "You can't blame me for being assigned to Academics, Yunjin." You brush her off, "Anyway. What about Yonsei's pride?" She curls her lips to a sardonic smile before typing away and presenting you with a photo of the team wearing Yonsei's varsity jackets and swimming trunks. There are four of them, and three of them are familiar to you: Sungchan, the first one on the right. Hyunjin is first on the left and Minjeong who's standing next to Hyunjin. 

You're familiar with the three of them. All except one. A girl standing in between Minjeong and Sungchan. The girl possesses fair skin, a small face, a V-shaped jaw, big yet fierce dark brown eyes, and a lithe physique. "So the team is the pride of the university?"

"No," She zooms in the photo of the girl. "She is. That's Karina Yoo, their captain." 

"She looks mean," You observed, and Yunjin chuckled, "You're not wrong."

Your jaw slacks, "Really?"

The latter hums in agreement and pauses. "A bitch is an appropriate term, bestie." You frown at her, "That's a bit too much." 

She scoffs at you, "Try interacting with her this weekend, and we'll see." 

"Whatever," You huffed and eyed your USB, "Are you done uploading my pictures to your folder?"

Yunjin unplugs it and places it atop the table. "Yep, thanks, girl." 

You observe the team from the bleachers with your camera in your hands as cheers ricochet against the walls of the spacious gym upon seeing your team make their appearance from the ground floor. Yonsei's team wore their signature swimsuit with the university's logo placed on the left lower front area of the men's swimming trunks, while for the women: it's located on the right upper breast of their partial bodysuit. 

You're not too far to get a clear shot. 

The girls of your university squealed when Sungchan flexed his toned body. Although impervious to such behavior, you can't help but admire the body of the swimmer before moving your gaze onto Minjeong, who waved at her fellow peers. Both men and women cheered for the auburn-haired girl while Hyunjin put his arm around Sungchan, who also waved to Yonsei's students.

"That's three of them," You tell yourself amongst the noise, "Where's the captain?" 

As if the universe answered, she finally appeared, and you swore you were about to go deaf due to their screams and cheers amplifying. 

Your eyes followed their gaze, and your jaw slacked. 

Karina Yoo's photos did not do her justice; she's drop-dead gorgeous in real life, and her lithe body is just a bonus to the grace that the girl exudes. You examine the captain. She couldn't be older than twenty-three.

"KARINA! KARINA! KARINA!" The students chant as she stands beside Minjeong - awaiting their opposing team while she converses with her team by huddling them. You take it as an opportunity to take their photo. 

But as you take another shot, Karina's eyes flicker in your direction.

Did she? Uncertainty and confusion seep into your thoughts as if you were shamelessly caught. 

You instinctively put your camera down. 

She returns her gaze to her members and continues speaking while they nod. You zoom the lens and take their photo. But this time, you don't put your camera down when Karina's sharp eyes look in your direction. There's something about her gaze that makes you fix your relaxed posture; as if she's looking through your camera, and it makes you feel small - that intense gaze of hers. 

You didn't take a picture and instead put your camera down. Perhaps the captain's sharp, piercing gaze meant that was enough as she and her team moved away from each other, but she stayed next to Minjeong and leaned close to the shorter girl's ear. The auburn-haired girl's eyes flicked in your direction before saying something to the taller girl. 

Paranoia creeps into your body. It's not like you have done something wrong, right? You were merely doing your job as a photojournalist for Yonsei. You tear your gaze from the pair and see the team they're competing against. 

You take it as your cue to descend from the bleachers as Karina's team makes their way to their assigned benches, leaving Hyunjin alone with his competitor. 

While descending from the bleachers, you can feel someone's eyes following you as you make your way to the indoor pool with your camera ready. You didn't dare look in fear of seeing that intense gaze as the referee blew his whistle for the two representatives of the opposing team, and make their way to the edge of the pool's ledge. 

"On your mark!" The referee bellows, "Get set. Go!"

You ready your camera. 

Sometime later, it was the captain's turn. 

Your peers chant the captain's name as she made her way to the pool's ledge. 

Due to your proximity to the pool's side, you locked eyes with her, and you swallowed harshly under her harsh gaze. 

"Jeez," You mutter as you tear your eyes from the older girl. "What's her deal?"

"On your mark!" The referee once again bellows, "Get set. Go!"

True to her title, Karina Yoo is Yonsei's pride. And so is the other members - they won and will be competing for the nationals three months from now. 

After the game, your peers went down to take pictures with the winning team. By this time, they change into dry clothes with towels draped over their shoulders, and you are standing next to the pool, checking your shots, when you hear your female colleagues scream Karina's name from behind. Out of curiosity, you look back to see a group of them running toward you - correction, you look in front to see the captain approaching them, leaving you beset on both sides.

Before you can react, one of them pushes you aside. Your eyes widen, and you instinctively put your hand where you're holding your camera up as you fall into the pool. 

"Oh no!" One of the students yell as you surface up with a gasp, look at your dry camera, and sigh in relief. "Are you okay?" One of them asks as they approach you intending to help. 

"Yes," You gasp, "Take the camera - be careful with it, please?" The student nods in compliance and takes your camera. 

You can feel holes burning on the side of your face, and without thinking, you look to the source and see Karina standing at the edge of the pool with wide eyes, her posture stiff and rigid, as if repulsed by the sight of you violating their pool. 

You flush under her gaze and reluctantly take the students' hands as they help you out of the pool and hurriedly take your camera from the other student. 

"Thank you," You tell them with a flushed face as you hastily exit the gym - facing burning with shock and humiliation. 

"Told you," Yunjin sneers, "A bitch." 

A whine leaves your lips as you slam your head against your desk. "Shut up - at least the students helped me." It's been a week since the minor incident, and you told Yunjin after you change into dry clothes in the university dorm. 

"Yeah," She snorts, "While the captain just glowers at you as if - what did you say?" She snaps her fingers, "Ah, as if you contaminated the pool." Then, she snickers. You glare at her while her lips curl to a teasing grin. 

"Whatever," You poke your tongue at her, and she relents by putting her hands up in mock surrender. "Look at the bright side," Your friend counters, "At least your camera's safe." 

"Yeah," You half-heartedly agree, "But I think I'm traumatized."

"Should I book your therapy?" She quips, "Oh wait, you're broke."

You scoff at her, "And? So are you." She stares at you, and you mimic her reaction before you two giggle as more students occupy the lecture hall. 

"Alright, students!" The professor says aloud as soon as he enters the room. "Take your seats - we have a new student joining us this semester." 

Murmurs echo while you and Yunjin share their curious looks as the older man looks at the entrance door. "Come in and introduce yourself." A familiar figure enters the room, and the class erupts with cheers and yells as Karina stands before all of you in casual wear in all-black: a cardigan with white accents, a tube top, denim jeans, and chunky sneakers, her hair is styled to a low, neat bun as she eyes the class, her gaze instantly meeting yours. You flinched and looked away from her and at Yunjin, who, in turn, looked at you. Both faces express surprise. 

"The fuck?" Yunjin mutters while you return to the new student, gaping. 

"I'm Karina Yoo," She announces, her voice is steely and attention-grabbing. "But most, if not all of you, know me as Yonsei's pride." 

The class yells and whistles in agreement. The professor holds his palm up, and the class quiets down. "Alright," Your professor gestures a hand at the vacant seats, "Thank you, Miss Yoo. You may take any seat." The captain bows her head and ascends to the elevated rows of seats with each student eyeing her expectantly for her to sit next to them. 

You quickly turn to Yunjin and grumble: "Just when I thought I'm finally free from what happened last week." She snickers at you, "Sucks to be you, my traumatized friend." 

A muffled pained groan reverberates from your lips, but you quickly stiffen as the captain walks past your row and takes a sit two seats above you. You sigh in relief and return your gaze to your professor preparing his presentation. 

"That bad, huh?" Yunjin observes as she takes out her laptop. 

"Yeah," You whisper. 

There it is again, that familiar burning feeling; as if someone's burning holes in the back of your head - it's the same feeling. But you chose to ignore it. Thirty minutes into the lecture, you couldn't ignore the feeling anymore and slowly peer over your shoulder. You almost jumped from your seat upon locking eyes with the swim captain. Her notebook lay forgotten. Instead, she was looking at you while the side of her face rested against her fist. Your skin prickles at the intensity, and you can feel your face flushing as her lips visibly curl upwards before slowly moving her gaze to the professor.

You quickly looked away from her and tried to focus on the discussion. But Professor Lee's words came and went out of your head. All you could do was mindlessly take notes and pictures of his slides and promise yourself that you'll go over your notes tonight. 

It went on for days; you could've been used to it now. But you're not. 

"I'm not being delusional, right?" You lock eyes with your friend, looking for reassurance. "I mean, it's not like I did something bad. I fell on the pool, for fuck's sake." You vent while the latter closes her laptop and sighs. "Have you tried asking her what's her problem?" 

You give her a look, "Are you kidding me?"

The raven-haired girl shrugs nonchalantly, "I mean - if you want an answer from her, just ask her directly." 

"Easier said than done," You mutter while she yawns. "I'll just ignore it, I guess? I mean, no harm, no foul, right?"

"Yeah," The latter looks at you, her relaxed expression turning serious. "But if she does something that makes you uncomfortable. Tell me immediately." On cue, the microwave dings. Dinner's ready. You're currently in her apartment; you can work together on your paper for the interschool competition due tomorrow. 

"I will," You smile at her and stand from her couch to grab your dinner. 

"Oh - come on!" You yell as the copies of the printed announcements; the latest news regarding the competition get whisked away by a couple of rushing students late for class. You put the other documents down on the floor, but not without putting your phone on top to ensure it doesn't fly away as you begin picking them from the floor. 

"Hey," A slightly deep feminine voice calls your attention, "You missed this last one."

"Oh?" You turn around and freeze as the captain of the swimming team holds the copy for you. You gawk at her while she moves her line of sight to the paper she's holding. 

"I look good in this photo," She remarks before looking at you. Her voice sounds softer this time. "Not bad for a picture taken from quite a distance." 

"Thanks," You smile politely at the older girl as you grip the papers you're holding to calm your nerves. She raises her brow and gently flaps the paper. "My hand's getting tired. Aren't you going to get it?"

"Right," You stammer and wince at the sound of your voice as you tentatively take the paper from her, and the latter walks away without saying a word. 

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding as you looked at the paper she gave you before putting it with the rest. And as you continue your day, you couldn't help but replay the odd interaction you had with the captain. 

"Weird," Yunjin muses as you take your designated seats for your proceeding lecture which is in ten minutes - but something's out of the ordinary. 

There's a rose atop your desk with a pink ribbon tied around its stem. 

The taller girl looks at you with a playful grin, "Someone's into you." 

You roll your eyes at her and sit down, "Must be for another person." You say as you carefully examine the rose to ensure there's a tag - and that it's for the right person. You freeze in your seat, and Yunjin bends to read the tag in perfect handwriting and snickers. "It's yours, Y/N." 

A frown creeps in your features, "But who-"

"Keep it," She shrugs and leans closer, "What else does it say?"

"Nothing," 

The raven-haired hums and takes her seat next to you. "Anyways, keep it."

You look at her with a questioning look, "Why?"

"As evidence that someone has a good eye and chose my BFF, duh?"

You let out an exasperated groan and playfully pushed her shoulder. "Oh, shut up." 

Yunjin was about to say something when she closed her mouth, and her expression became guarded. You furrow your brows and slowly follow her gaze, "What's the matter-" Your words die in your throat as Karina takes her seat next to you. Your eyes widen to the point that they were about to pop out from their sockets and snap your neck in Yunjin's reaction; eyes asking for her aid. 

"Karina," Yunjin softly clears her throat, "What's the sudden change of places?"

"So I can see better," She answers curtly. Yunjin arches a brow, "You don't seem to have a problem being two seats away for the past couple of days?"

You sit there awkwardly while the two exchange cold pleasantries. 

Karina shifts in her seat and looks past you, "I'd like to sit here so I won't miss any key points in the professor's lecture. What's it to you?"

Yunjin opens her mouth, but you look at her, head shaking sideways. 

The latter huffs, "Alright then, enjoy the view." 

"Thanks," Karina monotonously replies as more students pile into the lecture hall. You look down at the rose and shrug, "Alright Yunjin," You delicately pick up the rose and insert it into your tote bag carefully. "I'll keep it, my bedside needs decorating anyway."

From the corner of your eye, you can see Karina looking at the rose before tearing her gaze as the professor enters the venue. 

"Alright students, settle down and prepare your books, notebooks, laptops - whatever you need to keep notes. We'll begin shortly."

Forty minutes into the lecture, you missed the previous slide. 

"Crap," You mutter, and just as you're about to ask Yunjin if she copied the previous slide, Karina slides her phone next to you. 

The screen showed a picture of the slide you missed. "Here," She whispers. You blink at her while she continues to take her notes. She must've sensed your staring and sighed, "Are you going to copy that or what?"

You snap from your reverie, "Right, right. Sorry - thank you." You whispered to her and copied the slide she pictured before sliding her phone back to her but made no move to put it back in her bag. 

"I saw that," Yunjin whispers, and you jump from your seat.

"Next slide - is everything okay up there, Miss Choi?" The professor calls. Your cheeks redden as all the students, including the captain, turn to look at you. Your cheeks burn, "Yes sir, sorry." 

He hums, "Moving on..."

Sometime later, it was lunchtime; you and Yunjin decided to eat outside of campus. 

"So Chaewon recommended this restaurant," She opens the door for you while you carry both your laptop bags, "They sell good meat here and noodles here." 

"You've been mentioning her a lot," You comment as you take a vacant table. The latter makes a face at you before looking at the menu displayed above the counter, "What do you want to eat?"

"I'll take spicy chicken and jjajangmyeon." 

"Cool. Sit here. I'll go order." 

You open your laptop, "And I'll pay you later." The taller girl hums and goes to the counter while you work on your task. "Do my eyes deceive me?" Another feminine voice speaks from the side. You look up from your screen, "Giselle," You greet the captain of the debate team with a smile as you close your laptop. The Korean-Japanese mirrors your smile as she inserts her hands in her jacket pocket. "It's been a while, Y/N. Are you going to eat alone?"

"No," You gesture a hand towards Yunjin who looks back and sends the other a wave. "Yunjin's eating with me. How about you? Are you going to eat alone?"

The brunette shakes her head sideways, "No, I'm also going to eat with someone." The door opens, and Giselle looks back. "There you are, Karina." 

You fought the urge to drop your smile as you locked eyes with the captain of the swimming team. "Giselle," The captain regards, "You invited someone for lunch too?"

"No, no." She chuckles and pats your shoulder, "This is Y/N, the photojournalist who came with us four months ago for the nationals." She then gestures a hand towards her friend, "Y/N is this-"

"Karina Yoo," You finish for her with a polite smile, "We're classmates in Professor Lee's class." 

There's a look on Giselle's face that you couldn't decipher as her eyes lit up.

"Ah, I see." She looks at Karina, who seems busy looking at the menu, and then looks at the two of you. "I'll order for us." 

"Alright, alright." Giselle agrees, "I'll go get us a table." Without another word, Karina left. The debate captain looks at you with a knowing smile as Yunjin arrives at your table with iced tea, "Hey, Gi." Yunjin greets her with a grin as she puts your drinks on the table. "Hey Jen," She gives you another pat, "I'll see you two around campus, yeah?"

A hum leaves your throat as you watch the latter take a sit two tables away from you and Yunjin as more people enter the restaurant. "So," Yunjin clears her throat, "Care to tell me what was Karina sharing with you during Professor Lee's class?"

You shrug and sip your beverage, "Nothing, it was just the slide I missed." 

"Okay, but what about the time your documents flew away?"

A frown graces your lips, "She was just helping." 

Yunjin hums, and you lean closer. "What? What is it?"

"Nothing," She nonchalantly replies, "It's just that Karina's overall mean attitude seems to tone down with you, that's all." 

"Astute observation, Yunjin." You roll your eyes at her, "Maybe she's just being a decent person? We're classmates, after all."

"Oh, yeah?" She challenges, "How come she doesn't give a damn about others?"

You open your mouth, but no words come out to your defense, and Yunjin's smirk makes you close it. 

"I don't know," 

"Be observant, Y/N." She clicks her tongue, "Who knows, maybe you got the Yoo privilege." 

You look at her incredulously, "I beg your pardon?"

"Yoo privilege," She snickers, "You like it? I made it while I was making my astute observation, and by that, I mean you have the privilege of her toning down her attitude toward you. I mean, she could be the one who placed the rose on your desk three days ago." 

You know where this conversation's going. "Are you saying that she likes me?"

"Maybe," She grins, "Observe her, Y/N. Observe how she acts with others; how she acts with you. Then you'll know."

You consider that as the waiter arrives with your order. You sense a familiar from the side of your face. You look up from your food and meet her dark brown eyes.

And this time, you didn't flinch.

You took Yunjin's advice and observed the captain. 

It wasn't hard to observe her. She was never far from you, which made it easy to detect whether she was looking at you before talking to her friends. 

But that still doesn't account for the roses on your desk. You tried, but with the number of deadlines piling up in journalism, you had to put your observation on pause. 

"Jesus!" You snap as one of the student's coffee spills on your shirt. Murmurs echo in the hall upon witnessing an incident. "God - I'm sorry-"

"Forget it," You snap at the student as you pull the drenched fabric away from your skin and gesture for the student to go away, "Just go." 

"Sorry again." The man says before awkwardly walking away while the others lose interest and walk away. "Fuck," You swore as you run your hand through your hair. "How the fuck am I supposed to go to the press conference looking like this?" You hiss as you swing your bag to the front to get your wipes. You hear footsteps approaching you and you scowl thinking it's the man who spilled coffee on you. 

"Man," You sigh without looking in their direction. "You don't need to come here and-"

"Y/N," Your ears perk at the familiar tone, and you slowly turn around to face Karina standing before you with her fist securing her monogram jacquard jacket. 

"Karina," You greet with slight surprise, "What are you doing here?"

She shakes her jacket, "Wear this." 

"I beg your pardon?"

Instead of frowning, she keeps her face calm and uses her other hand to gesture at your shirt. "I can see the outline of - well, you know..."

You look down, and your face flushes, and with your other hand, you cover your upper body while the other takes her jacket. But you stop upon seeing the logo of her jacket, and sheepishly look at her. 

"What's wrong?" She inquires. "I can't take this - it's expensive." 

Karina shifts her weight on the other foot. "You'll be late for your press conference if you don't take it, Y/N." She tells you with a tone that leaves no argument. Without another word, she leaves the hall, leaving you with her jacket. 

A frustrated sigh leaves your lips as you look at the expensive article of clothing before delicately donning it. 

"Woah," Yunjin muses upon seeing you enter the venue. "I know that isn't yours, Y/N. Whose is it?"

"Karina's," You take a seat next to her. The latter let out a mock gasp. "Yoo privilege." 

"Shut up, Yunjin." 

After the conference, you stop by the EIC's office only to be greeted with roses and a freshly brewed ice latte on your desk. 

"There you are!" Wendy grins as she stands next to you, "I receive our handler's feedback. You and Yunjin did a great job on the inter-school paper!"

"Yeah," You answer distractedly, "Who brought these on my desk?"

"Ah," Wendy frowns, "I didn't catch her name." 

Her?

You turn to your EIC, "Can you describe her for me? What was she wearing?"

The older girl pauses in thought. "Well, she was wearing a brushed ribbed knit top, white denim jeans with a beige tag on its left pocket, and black boots."

Exactly what Karina wore when she gave you her jacket. 

"I see," You mutter, and Wendy's face contorts with curiosity, "Why'd you ask?"

You brush her off, "It's nothing, thanks, Wendy." 

The latter smiles, "No problem," She then turns to leave the room. "Enjoy your iced latte!"

Once the older girl is out of sight, you quickly take the rose with a tag on it, it read:

I'm rooting for you at the press conference; I hope you like iced latte to savor your victory. 

-yjm

"YJM?" You move your line of sight to the iced latte, and beads of cold water slides down from the plastic cup. A smile creeps on your lips as you bring the cup's straw to your lips and take a sip, allowing the iced beverage to slide into your throat smoothly. You sigh in refreshment and place the drink on your desk. Your hands take the roses, careful from the thorns that could prick you as you study the delicate flower. 

"Yunjin will hear about this." 

"No way," She cackles, "So she lent you her jacket and even sent roses and an iced latte to the office? Damn, Y/N. You won in life." 

You carefully pick up the jacket and raise it, "How do I clean this?"

Yunjin takes the clothing from you, "Leave it to me. I know a place where they clean luxury clothing." 

"Alright," You sigh and collapse on her couch. "Oh, and Y/N?"

"Yeah?" You answer aloud as Yunjin makes her way back to the living room. "Did you know Girl's Generation is having a concert in Gocheok Sky Dome?"

Your ears perk, and you sit up straight, "No? When?"

"Two days from now," She tells you and frowns, "You didn't know?"

You give her a look, "I'm not updated - I've been busy." 

"Right," She sighs, "Why?"

"Chaewon got a ticket for me - I can give it to you if-"

"Woah, Yunjin," You stop her by grasping her shoulder. "She gave it to you. You're the one she invited to go with her. It would be rude if you gave it to someone else." 

Her features remain concerned, "Are you sure? Chaewon would understand-"

"Yunjin," You exasperated a sigh, "It's fine. She invited you."

A genuine smile graces your lips. "I'll be fine. Just remember to make a fan cam for me, yeah?"

The next day, Yunjin gives you Karina's jacket: freshly cleaned and neatly pressed. 

While conversing on your way to Professor Lee's class, your eyes shift to the entrance only to be greeted by Karina leaning her back against the wall next to the door. 

"Oh shit," Yunjin snickers quietly, and you nudge her by the elbow. "Sh,"

"Karina!" You call out and was about to give her jacket back when she cuts you off. "Just give it to me after Professor Lee's class." 

Confused, but you comply as she enters the room. You and Yunjin follow suit as your peers begin to fill the lecture hall. 

While the older man is discussing, Karina slides next to you, startling you with a jump as she ducks her head and drops her voice an octave lower. "I have something for you after class. Is it okay if we remain after everyone else left?"

You tear your eyes from the presentation to look at her. Your cheeks heat up as you meet Karina's soft, warm gaze, but her attractive face swims with uncertainty at your would-be reply. 

A soft smile creeps on your lips, "Sure, Karina. What is it anyway?"

Her features soften, and surprise etches on your face as her lips quirk to a playful smile. That's a first.

"It's a surprise," She winks before returning to her original position. 

You gape at her, surprised by this new side of her. You can't wait to know what she has in store for you after Mr. Lee's class. 

Fifty minutes later, the older gentleman dismisses the class. Everyone left except for you, Karina, and Yunjin. 

"You go first," You tell the raven-haired girl. Yunjin flashes you a grin before getting her bag, but not without whispering: "Yoo privilege" against your ear before leaving.

You huff at the latter as you get the paper bag containing Karina's jacket and hand it to her. "Here you go, Karina." 

The older girl looks at the paper bag and smiles. "Can you stand up?"

How odd, "Sure." 

You comply with her innocent request and hand the bag to her. "Here you go," 

Her lips tugged to a downward smile and retrieves the bag. "Thanks, Y/N."

You let out a hum while you two stand in silence. A sigh leaves the older girl's lips before she laughs lightly - and it sounds pleasant like chimes in the wind. 

"Ah - this is not what I envisioned it." She guffaws and scratches her nape. You can't help but chuckle at the older girl's disposition. "Take your time," You assure the raven-haired beauty as she inhales sharply. Is she new to this? How adorable, you thought to yourself as she closes her eyes and puffs her cheeks. 

"Ok," She opens them and clears her throat. "I'm afraid that I've made a bad impression when we first met, Y/N." She sighs, "Which is why I'm going to change that tomorrow."

Tomorrow? What does she mean?

On cue, she brings out a bouquet - well not really. More like two tickets wrapped in pink silk with a pastel ribbon secured around it. 

"I hope you like concerts, Y/N. Especially Girl's Generation."

My, did your heart skip a beat?

"Will you be my date for the concert, Y/N Choi?"

"Yes," You breathe, and Karina's smile morphs into a delighted grin. 

"You just made me the happiest girl, Y/N." 

Fin.

[skyeslittlecorner]

Rough timeline of Hell

Tldr: devils are such grandpas.

Has anyone managed to write down the timeline in hell yet? Because for now I'm slowly catching up on what I wasn't there and I have to write everything down so I don't get lost. I've done some math before, trying to figure out how many years have passed since Solomon disappeared. I will quickly refresh this information a bit - Most things haven't changed, but I should mention that we now know that time in Hell and on Earth passes at different times and rates. So today a minute may pass, and tomorrow a year may pass.

For the sake of keeping some data, we'll stick with the average I calculated earlier, because I haven't found a better point of reference yet. So - one year in hell is 6.6 years on earth.

Quick proportions: 365*365/6.6 =~56 days

That would mean MC has been in hell for about two months.

Possible? I guess so. I don't remember MC's exact time in hell being given anywhere, but I haven't read 6Ch yet. Devils believe that for them practically no time has passed, but they are long-lived, there's no point in believing them. This is of course the time of the main storyline.

Now it's time for something worse. Two months is a piece of cake - now we'll be playing with years. Let's start with the order in which the kingdoms were formed.

Tartaros - Definitely the first, judging by little Mammon's event.

Hades - I'm betting on the latter, because when Satan formed Gehenna, Levi was already on the throne. We know this from both Sitri and Amy events.

Gehenna - After these two, I think the third one is Gehenna. When Satan found Sitri (which was during his takeover of Gehenna), the other kings also showed up and had their eyes on him. Mammon and Levi. Beel didn't show up then.

Avisos - Continuing, Beel may not have appeared because he didn't care, or because he wasn't king. I have no information on that. So I'd put him somewhere between Hades or not far after Gehenna.

Abaddon - no information. From Asmodeus himself and his behavior I would think he could have taken power quite early, but who the hell knows.

Niflheim - I haven't gotten to that event yet, but from what I've seen of people's mentions, no one really knows what to do with them. Rather leaning towards one of the younger countries. It makes sense that Belphi simply didn't feel like it lol

Paradise Lost - The last of the countries, what we know from Luci's event.

Why did I present this? So that we could have some first idea - because now comes the math. Again. Yay.

Sitri, Amy, and Levi allow us to roughly (very roughly) count how much time has passed since the founding of Gehenna to the arrival of the MC. Thanks to the fact that events overlap with the main plot. Long live backstories.

311 years passed from the moment Solomon disappeared until the appearance of MC.

Solomon lived in hell from 100 to 150 years.

Sitri spent almost 100 years in Hades studying.

Sitri and Amy met every five years at Gehenna meetings so regularly that they made a fandom. It's quite modern, post-Solomon times. We can assume about 50-100 years. That's not a problem for now, because…

…They have known each other for hundreds of years, which ranges from 200 to 999 years.

All these events create a timeline something something like this:

We need to assume something to be able to operate on numbers.

For minimum: 100+200+311-50 = 561

For maximum: 100+999+311-100 = 1310

So the average is: (561+1310)/2=935,5

This would mean that somewhere between 561 and 1310 years passed from the founding of Gehenna to the appearance of the MC. With probability leaning closer to 935 years, since we have nothing better than an average.

I think these assumptions are enough for now. Especially since we have no idea what the truth is. As you can see, there are a lot of maybes and ifs. But still, I think it's interesting to at least try to grasp how older our sexy boys are.

Of course if you have something to add, add it! I could be wrong on so many levels that I don't even know if it's worth posting this, but I had too much fun writing it (and maybe I'll learn something more from you!)

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Aren't you tired yet? So, I have another funfact. It falls into the category of conspiracy theories are my passion. (They are as you see.)

From the moment Solomon appeared in hell to the moment MC appeared, approximately 461 years passed. If MC lived a similarly long life, that's a total of 611 years. In terms of Earth years, the entire cycle, from when Solomon appeared to when Solomon's descendant disappeared, would take about 4,000 Earth years. (611*6.6)

What's interesting about this, you ask?

Let me quote something: "The chronology [of the Bible] is highly schematic, marking out a world cycle of 4,000 years."

Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chronology_of_the_Bible

That would be an interesting symbolism. Our ancestor started a cycle that began to change hell, and MC, his descendant, would end that cycle, giving hope for a new, better era.

[humbledragon669]

S2E1 - The Arrival Write Up P8 - the Present Day from the "I Was Wrong" dance

I don’t see any point in beating about the bush, let’s dive straight in – plenty still to cover in this final five minutes (sans credits) of the first episode of season two. The first item in my notes for this section is something we see for just a few frames before Crowley even gets through the door of the bookshop:

This is not a happy angel. In fact he looks almost tormented, doesn’t he? Sitting there, just staring into space. Goodness knows what’s going through his head at this point, but I don’t think he’s thinking about whatever it was he had intended to do when he sat down behind his desk. And whatever it is, it looks like he’s pretty deep in thought given his jump-scare reaction when the door opens. Speaking of which, the door has either been left unlocked or Crowley has miracled it open, because there is no sound of a door rattling or key turning in the lock before he comes striding into the shop. Either of those possibilities has some lovely subtext – the former would suggest Aziraphale has deliberately left it open knowing that Crowley is going to come back (don’t forget, it’s now full dark outside, so it’s likely way past closing time), the latter suggests that Crowley knows he would have locked up and wants his entrance into the shop to be dramatic. I lean towards the former, but that’s largely due to the lack of evidence to support the latter.

I’m going to state the obvious at this point. I absolutely love the scene that follows. I think it’s probably a fandom favourite. The chemistry between this pair is bang on, the comedy timing is perfect, and we get a couple of new Aziracrow history facts. Not to mention we get to see Crowley do a little dance (which was unspeakably surprising in the first watch – I think I actually squealed). And I was in love with this scene before the chemistry, before the dance, before Crowley takes off his glasses, even before Aziraphale puts on his glasses and pretends to be busy. Here’s the moment I fell in love with this scene:

I’m sure you won’t be surprised to read that it was the soundtrack that initially swept me off my feet here. That moaning guitar noise gets me weak at the knees every single time. But it doesn’t really stop there for the genius score writing – check out the beginning of the next phrase with the plucked strings. Classic music-writing device to convey comedy, and I think the two are perfectly placed – the guitar slides in as Crowley slithers his way back into the shop, the strings make their star entrance as we see Aziraphale trying to make the impression that he’s busy, not at all thinking about the argument he’s had with Crowley and wondering when he’s going to come back, thank-you-very-much.

I seriously adore this movement he makes for two reasons. Firstly because he has to readjust his entire posture and position to settle into the place that would be necessary to actually work at his desk. Look how far he has to shift his butt forward to lean over the desk properly! The second reason I love this is because Crowley is already stood right in front of him, looking at him. He would have seen the entire thing. It’s so blatantly obvious that this is an act, not just for us as an audience but for Crowley too.

Personal side note: I am actually sitting here giggling at everything as I rewatch tiny bits of this scene whilst I write this. I just can’t help it. Did I mention I love this scene? Right, back to it…

Let’s make it very clear what this dramatic gesture (complete with comedic string glissando to really highlight the movement) is shall we? We know that Crowley has been in Aziraphale’s presence without his sunglasses on countless occasions. We also know that he only really removes his sunglasses when he’s comfortable in his surroundings and his company (at least in the AD years). I can’t imagine he is comfortable with either of those things at this present moment at time, considering that he knows he’s in trouble. I don’t think I’d be alone in thinking that he does this at this particular moment in time to show Aziraphale that he’s making himself vulnerable for the angel. He has nowhere to hide without those glasses – he’s completely exposed. Which is also why I think he makes a big show of it: it’s actually a grand (somewhat melodramatic) gesture – “look at what I’m doing for you, so you’ll know how earnest I’m being”. This complicated subtext really demonstrates the reason I love this scene so much – there are just so many layers in it.

Whatever I think of Crowley’s “grand gesture”, Aziraphale ain’t buying it. I’m sure that stubborn angel saw what Crowley has done, but it’s just met with a clearing of the throat and a fake “that’s interesting” noise as he reads his little index cards. But that little noise really says something else to me – it’s a sort of “is that all you got?”. The message is pretty clear to everyone – this angel is still pretty pissed.

The set of Crowley’s jaw in this little shot is quite something, isn’t it?! I love the way he’s gone from a cautious-yet-dramatic entrance to try and establish the lay of the land to simply throwing his sunglasses on the table and ringing a bell to announce his arrival. It’s almost like he thinks he really has to emphasise that he’s taken off his glasses, you know, just in case Aziraphale hadn’t noticed. And the “I’m back” line? On the surface it’s stating the obvious, but let’s not forget why the angel had asked him to come to the bookshop in the first place – to take his place as the rescuer. This is him announcing he’s taking up the mantle again, and don’t you just love that he thinks that will be enough to let him get away without having to apologise? Gotta love him for trying I suppose.

There is a shot of Aziraphale in the Bentley that we’ll see in episode 3 that I have seen described as being the best demonstration of the angel in full bitch mode. I disagree – I think this moment takes it. This is pure bitchy rage and sarcasm at its absolute best. And underneath the snark and the stubborn refusal to look at Crowley to acknowledge that he has laid himself bare, there’s a clear message: “it’s not enough”. Crowley’s groan is evidence that for once he hasn’t missed his cue – as much as he might be hoping to get away without making an apology, he knows that’s probably not going to happen. I say probably because he tries to get out of it again:

CROWLEY: You want a big “I think I said the wrong thing” sort of apology, or can we take that as said?

I find the choice of words here interesting. Notice he doesn’t say “I did the wrong thing” or even “I was wrong”. It feels to me like there’s an element of “I’m sorry you feel that way” about, like he’s not really sorry for saying those things, but bitter about their consequences. And let’s not forget that he not only said a lot of things that Aziraphale got upset with, but reneging on the arrangement of him being the rescuer, leaving the angel to deal with the situation alone, likely causes more anger than the words that were said. He also says “I think” before the rest of the phrase (suggesting he really doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong), not to mention that this whole sentence is actually just a last-ditch attempt to get out of the apology. It’s not really any surprise that Aziraphale isn’t satisfied with this lame excuse for an olive branch.

Did I say that little sarcastic line from earlier was Aziraphale’s bitchiest moment? My bad. This. This is it here. Man, if words could kill, these would do it. And note that Crowley still doesn’t actually take responsibility for his actions, choosing instead to try and placate his angel by telling him he was right instead.

I think we’re about to find out what it is that Aziraphale was thinking about whilst he was staring into space at the beginning of the scene.

There it is – he was never going to take anything less, was he? There is so much to unpack here too.

AZIRAPHALE: I want a proper apology- CROWLEY: No.

That’s interesting – Crowley knew exactly what was coming before Aziraphale actually asked for it. Which makes it clear that this “proper apology” is something that has been referred to before. Next up:

AZIRAPHALE: -with the little dance. CROWLEY: I don’t do the dance.

Curiouser and curiouser… So Crowley has never done this dance before. Hold your horses though, because here comes a piece of Aziracrow lore that everyone is dying to know more about. According to Aziraphale, he’s performed this dance at least three times before. I say at least because it actually sounds like he’s going to keep going with that list (if I was a betting person, I’d say the last of those dates might have been after Crowley delivered the Antichrist to the nunnery). He’s also furious about it.

And whatever those dances were for, the reason(s) was significant enough for the dates to be carved into Aziraphale’s memory (granted two of the three tie up with known meetings between the two of them, and I know we’re all pretty sure that 1941 is going to turn out to have been meaningful for other reasons). I have my own theory about the reason behind the dances, which I have written a fanfic about. Feel free to read it here if you like, just know that it’s a WIP at the moment (still!) until I get to the 1941 minisode in this season (which, at this rate, is going to be a little while).

It’s at this point I want to pick up on how we as a fandom refer to what’s about to happen. I think I’ve seen it mostly called the “Apology Dance” - I have in fact referred to it by that name almost every time I’ve talked about it. However, neither Crowley nor Aziraphale actually call it that. Crowley simply refers to it as “the dance”, whilst Aziraphale calls it by three names - “a proper apology”, the “little dance”, or the “I-was-wrong dance”. I don’t think it’s hugely important, and I think that, unfortunately, the adopted name may have come about due to a reference made to by the creator. I think there might be something interesting in the fact that it isn’t actually called an “apology dance”, by either of its benefactors, on a linguistic level, but that’s not for here. There are some details about the linguistics used for the words that go along with the dance that I’d like to take a brief look at in just a moment. For now let’s just soak up in the silent sass we see Aziraphale gives Crowley to signal that he’s ready for the performance:

I mean, could this angel be more ready to revel in Crowley’s humiliation? The head tilt. The eyebrow raise. Such perfect bitch-delivery. Something that the 3-second long pause we see before the performance actually begins would suggest that the demon is well aware of, and that he’s still silently begging not to have to go through with the whole thing. Let’s get back to those “lyrics”.

CROWLEY: You were right, you were right, I was wrong, you were right.

There are a couple of things I find interesting about this set of words, the first being the fact that there isn’t actually an apology anywhere in them. The other requires remembering that this dance has only been previously been performed by Aziraphale for Crowley, which means that these words were devised to appease the demon. What we don’t know at this point is who devised them in the first place. I do hope that we’ll get some closure about this whole thing in season’t 3, but I just don’t know if there will be enough time in 90 minutes to cover the topic.

I am not ignoring the fact that the final pose of the dance looks distinctly like Crowley has extended his wings, I just feel like it’s probably so obvious I might be insulting people by pointing it out. What I do want to give credit to is the depth David has gotten out of that ice skater/one-legged squat pose. Honestly, I do yoga and a squats work out on a regular basis, and that sort of depth (without falling over) is not even close to being within my reach.

Last thing to say about the dance itself, or rather the music that goes along with it. This little tune took me a long time to identify, and it nearly drive me nuts, but I did get there in the end. I think it’s “Girls and Boys Come Out to Play”. Or it could just be a sequence of descending minor thirds, because I can’t see how the lyrics or history of that song links to anything about GO. Answers on a postcard.

Jeez, Aziraphale, could you thirst any harder? (Yes, it’s coming up in the next episode…) It doesn’t look like Crowley really notices, though he does understand that consent has now been given for him to resume his role as rescuer, closing the distance (very quickly) between them. He also returns to using collective pronouns instantly:

CROWLEY: We need to keep him here and hide him.

Aziraphale doesn’t notice until the demon uses the word “together”, and even then it comes as a bit of a surprise. (Side note: there appears to be a fire alarm going off somewhere in the background at this point. Not as obvious as the helicopter I could hear earlier on in the scene I suppose…) And despite the fact that Crowley is trying to do his thing (rescuing), he’s still clearly very, VERY worried about the plan - we’ve gone into full hand-wringing, freak-out-face mode:

It only really occurred to me what this look of intense worry might have been whilst I was doing this write up. I’m going to try and be as succinct as I can here, but I don’t know if I can word it very precisely. So. It’s only at this point that the suggestion of the pair of them doing half a miracle is raised, by Aziraphale. Which means that, despite Crowley using collective pronouns and saying that they were going to do it together, what he actually meant was that Aziraphale could do a miracle. And what Aziraphale meant when he said that he couldn’t do it because Heaven would notice even the smallest miracle was that he a) interpreted Crowley’s plan in that same way in the first place and b) was subtextually saying that actually the demon should do the miracle himself. Crowley’s defence that he doesn’t want Hell’s attention would suggest that he in turn understood what was being asked. Furthermore, Crowley’s reaction to Aziraphale’s suggestion now would also back up that idea that he wasn’t actually suggesting that they do a joint miracle in the first place, because it’s clear that this is a new idea for him. Phew, that was a lot of words to say that their exactlys weren’t exactly the same exactlys, but I felt like I had to get it out of my head. And of course it would be remiss of me to point out how thrilled Aziraphale is at getting Crowley’s approval, but I do feel like that’s been discussed at length by many other people already, so instead I’ll just leave this here:

It seems like such a long time since I talked about anybody other than Crowley or Aziraphale, and it feels even longer since I talked about Gabriel/Jim, and about how he does seem to understand some social cues. Well, here he is, clearly interpreting Crowley’s dislike of him with indignation:

He even manages a little sass of his own when he has to repeat his adopted name to Crowley. He softens quickly enough though, letting himself be led into the chair, which brings me to my next observation. The chair appears to have been placed directly over the (inactive) seal that marks the portal to Heaven.

Obviously there’s a rug over it now, but I’m pretty sure that’s the right spot. Why there? There are any number of places that Crowley could have put that chair. He could even just have left it where it was. Does he even know what he’s done? I don’t think we’ve ever seen him in the bookshop with it uncovered or activated, so perhaps not, but it feels like a pretty big coincidence if that’s the case. I know we all love the idea that the reason the miracle that’s about to be performed is so strong because it was done by both of them, but I do also wonder if the placing of the chair has anything to do with it.

I find it interesting that Crowley is only really worried about attracting Heaven’s attention at this point. He doesn’t mention Hell in this little speech at all, and Aziraphale doesn’t offer his own counter-speech to Crowley. The demon does in fact seem to be doing his absolute best to reign the angel in as much as possible, something which Aziraphale doesn’t dispute or bicker over. There’s something else - and it’s to do with the miracle noise used here:

Oh, wait. That’s not the miracle noise from this scene, is it? It’s the miracle noise from Aziraphale vanishing the soldier in the last episode of season 1. This is actually the miracle noise from the season 2 scene:

Yeah… they’re the same (if you're not convinced, try listening through headphones - I'm not sure the first component comes through in the first clip properly on speakers). There are a number of possibilities for this. Firstly, and this is something I have been toying with more and more as the season has gone one, that the noise isn’t actually related to the caster of the miracle, but the caster’s intentions (good vs. bad). This would work for this scenario, as the intentions in both scenes aren’t driven by morality but by need. The second possibility is that the sound contents aren’t actually relevant to anything other than to signify that a miracle has happened. I don’t buy this - this show is far too heavy on the hidden details for that to be a thing as far as I’m concerned, but even if that is the case, that will also become important in time. Thirdly, is it possible that Crowley didn’t actually didn’t do anything except move his hand down here? That would explain why he was so focussed on telling Aziraphale not to overdo it, whilst simultaneously avoiding making assurances that he would do the same. We never see Hell tracing anything back to Crowley either, which sort of makes sense because Gabriel is one of theirs, but also doesn’t make sense because Beelzebub has made it very clear that she’s also looking for the lost archangel, and that she believes Crowley has knowledge about it. There’s also something else to consider, which you can see here:

Now obviously we don’t really have anything to compare this to - this is the first time we’ve seen some sort of barrier formed by ethereal/occult intervention (their words, not mine). That said, it looks to me like all those little highlights that run through the barrier are gold, which is very definitely part of the Heavenly colour scheme (see the outfit Crowley chooses to manifest for his visit to Heaven). There are no other colours here at all. One last thing to think about:

CROWLEY: That was a Class A surreptitious half-a-miracle.

Huh. Not two half-a-miracles. Just one. Singular. Which would imply that only one of them did what they had agreed to do, and only Crowley would know that, because in this theory, he’s the only one of them that hasn’t carried out his part of the deal. I have no idea why this would be, or the motivations behind it, but I definitely think it’s something to chew on. Speaking of things to chew on, I can’t stop wondering why Aziraphale looks like he’s about to give Crowley a talking-to after he says that he’s not the archangel’s friend.

No idea what that bothers me so much. Partly because of how cheerfully he’s just spoken to Jim I think, that it’s such a turn-around, but I can’t really pin it down.

There’s one tiny thing I want to pick up before I (finally) sign off on this episode. It’s the way that Michael refers to Aziraphale.

MICHAEL: There’s a former angel in this up to his bookshop-owning neck.

Interesting. As far as I was concerned, Aziraphale was very much still an angel. He might not officially work for Heaven anymore but that doesn’t negate the nature of his being. That’s a little like saying that a retired racehorse isn’t a horse any longer. Maybe it’s supposed to reflect how Heaven thinks of him now, but I find it an interesting choice of words nonetheless. More to chew on.

Well I don’t know about you, but that last couple of minutes gave me a lot of things to think about! This episode has felt somewhat like a marathon compared to those in season 1, but I think the likelihood is that the rest of the season (Final 15 excluded) should be an easier affair. If nothing else, the next couple of episodes should break down a little easier given the minisode format that was employed. Congratulations if you made it this far with me - this one has been a long one! As always, questions, comments, discussion: always welcome. See you for the next one! 😊

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

How they Show Affection Part 2: Xiao, Zhongli, Ayato

Number 2 of 3

CW: Fluff, No pronouns

Xiao x fem! Reader, Zhongli x Fem!reader, Ayato x fem! reader 

Xiao

When you and Xiao first got together you wondered how he would show his affection. I mean, he’s never really done this before

And it wasn’t very surprising when he didn’t show much affection when others were present, though he wasn’t able to hide a certain amount of protectiveness

What was surprising was realizing that Xiao was a cuddle bug

It turns out that he finds your touch to be one of the most comforting things in the world

Your touch is warm, full of life, and when he lays his head on your chest (no matter what your comparative heights are), he’s able to relax. 

After a while it got to the point where he would seek out your company and your embrace, starting with bad days when his karmic debt weighed heavy on his shoulders, but eventually just because. Soon cuddles would be mixed with with sweet little kisses. Kisses that say “thank you” and “I love you”

Zhongli

If Xiao was difficult to read because of inexperience, Zhongli would be hard to read because of age

He’s been alive for so long, how would he show his love for you

He’s a quality time person

Now that he’s in his retirement as an archon and generally free to do as he pleases, it most often pleases him to spend his days with you

You two spend so much time in the city where he tells you story after story of the people who once lived there. He tells you the true stories of the legends that the city folk tell now and both of you snicker a little when people talk about “Rex Lapis” to Zhongli’s face. 

And he’s always honest about it, which is refreshing

Ayato

Kamisato Ayato. Mr. Busy, busy, busy

He shows his affection in whatever way he can at the moment

In public, when you’re together it’s sweet words and him feeding you, though you’re always a little cautious about the latter. You’ve seen what Thoma goes through at the sadistic hands of his master.

In private, while both of you still working, it’s quality time and random chatter. You’ll sit in his office looking over your own work while the two of you chatter about the day.

After hours, though, he heavily gravitates towards physical touch. Hands on your shoulder, your waist, brushing through your hair. He loves looking at you, but he also loves touching you. It’s even better for him when you lean into his touch, or seek out his hand.