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#but they are their own person doing it in their own way
euthymiya · 3 days
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[ ASKING PRICE — FT. KINICH ]
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synopsis: kinich isn’t so happy that you spend time with ajaw. you’re more than willing to pay the price to make up for it
before you read: gender neutral reader ; established relationship ; slightly jealous kinich (of ajaw getting more attention) ; ajaw cameo! ; lots of kisses ;) (kinich not ajaw)
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You laugh, and Kinich’s vein all but pops.
Normally, he’s agitated by Ajaw on most hours of most days. That much is a well known fact. But not today, though—because today, he’s absolutely infuriated. (And no, this is not on a limited, conditional, restricted, contractual, partial, temporary basis. This anger is very much here to stay and not go anywhere.)
You’re here to complete a commission with him, not spend your time giggling with a certain saurian. And your kindness is very much wasted going towards someone as pompous as Ajaw—still, there’s a part of him that admires it. Only you could manage to be kind to someone as difficult to get along with.
What he doesn’t admire, however, is that you happen to be the one person Ajaw also doesn’t mind being kind to. (Well, as kind as someone like Ajaw can get, that is.)
“—and when the Almighty Dragonlord, K'uhul Ajaw summons the howling winds, and sets the whole world ablaze, you can be the only survivor!”
It’s a grating voice, Kinich thinks distantly, rolling his eyes at the way you chuckle and give a grateful nod, entertaining the pure nonsense of a fool. Ajaw has approximately the same brain power as a dead saurian. That’s to say: none. How you manage to laugh at jokes made by such a simpleton is beyond the comprehension of someone like Kinich—but he supposes you’ve always been kind to a fault. A pity laugh certainly isn’t something you’re above, he supposes.
“Will I have the luxury of ruling by your side as your trusty sidekick?” You play along. It seems to please the dragon, earning a haughty laugh.
“I suppose you can have a small corner to call yours,” he agrees, “just make sure you push that slimy, slithering, miserly worm off a cliff and I’ll allow it.”
You glance over at Kinich as soon as the words are uttered by the obnoxious loud mouth beside you, and he can feel the last of his veins snap—that is, until you smile, giving him a playful wink.
“I’ll see what I can do,” you giggle.
“See?” Ajaw turns to look at him, making Kinich’s eye twitch ever so slightly. “You should be more like this one! The Almighty Dragonlord—h-huh? Hey!”
“Kinich!” You scold, watching as Ajaw cuts himself off with a scream, flying off into the distance from one irritated flick of Kinich’s fingers.
“What?” He huffs, crossing his arms as you throw your head back and laugh.
“You’re cute, you know. When you get like that.”
“Like what?” It comes out as a grumble. A rather petulant one, at that—he almost cringes hearing it in his own tone.
He knows what you mean, too. You know he does, so you reach over to ruffle his hair as his lips curl into a deeper frown. It’s not lost on you, however, that he almost seems to lean into your touch, almost seems to savor the feeling of your palm against his head.
“It’s cute when you’re jealous,” you tease. “Adorable, you know? Seeing you sulk is a bit rare.”
“I was not sulking,” he protests. That, of course, pulls a laugh out of you that makes him sulk even harder. “And I’m not jealous. Being jealous of Ajaw is absurd.”
“Oh but I think you were,” you nudge his shoulder, lips stretching into a knowing grin as he grunts. “Don’t worry, I’d never push you off a cliff.”
“That’s because you’d never manage to,” he shrugs. You give him a playful scowl as you huff, you don’t know that, under your breath. He fights back an amused smile, trying to keep his seriousness in tact. “Have you had enough fooling around? We have a commission to complete. You’re going to make me lose out on mora.”
“Is that so?” You say thoughtfully.
By now, Kinich knows that face. It’s not a very welcomed face, either—it means trouble for him. Some form of scheming on your end that almost always ends with you getting what you want, and almost always ends with him walking away as a loser of sorts. It’s his own fault, of course. Being powerless against your charms is a weakness he’s not entirely managed to overcome yet.
But he’s trying—and he’ll get it one day. He’s sure of it.
“I don’t like that face,” he says dryly, eyeing you cautiously.
“What face?” You gasp, mock innocence feigned even as the mischief creeps into your eyes. He can see it. Sense it. Feel it. Almost like he can tell a foe is coming even before they strike—it’s a practiced precision of sorts.
“That face you make when you’re up to something. I can tell you have something up your—”
You cut him off with a kiss to the corner of his mouth, making him go silent almost instantly. A small part of him can feel his cheeks burn, but the bigger part of him melts before he can even comprehend it.
“What if I paid you a better price,” you murmur, “and commissioned some of your time?”
A hand trails up his chest, rubbing slowly against the expanse of it over his shirt, stopping just over his heart. Evil, he wants to tell you, how evil you are to rest your palm right over his erratic heart.
Like you sense the pounding beat, you grin sweetly.
“You’ll need a better price than that,” he mumbles quietly when he finally finds his voice, clearing his throat subtly.
“Haggling over prices with me?” You pout. “Not even I can get a discount.”
“Of course not,” he says stubbornly. A strong arm wraps around you, pulling you against his sturdy chest as you bite back a grin. “I only accept offers with appropriate prices.”
“Fine,” you pretend to roll your eyes in defeat, leaning in to press a firm peck to his lips. “Will that cover it?”
“Not quite,” his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer. Impossibly closer. So close, you think his lips could knock into yours from a gentle breeze alone.
But he’s still. Patient. Painfully observant as his eyes stare into you and wait for what he wants—and, well, Kinich always gets his asking price. One way or another, he never walks away short of a single mora.
Or kiss.
So you lean in, pressing your mouth to his as your hands cup his face, tracing the skin above his cheekbone delicately as he sighs softly. His eyes flutter closed, and briefly, he thinks how nice it is when it’s just you. And him. And no Ajaw.
He should keep it like that more often.
He needs it, you think. Needs to feel you up close and personal, needs to know you’re here and staying, needs to know you’re his and only his.
He lets out a soft sound of protest when you finally break away, earning a quiet chuckle from you before you plant a sweet kiss to his jaw.
“How was that?” You whisper, kissing along his jawline, earning a small shiver of approval from him. “Was that payment enough?”
“I suppose for now,” he mumbles.
“Now you’re just being greedy,” you tease, grinning against his skin.
But you know as well as he does, you’re than happy to afford his prices. And then some, too. You’re as generous about spending as he is enthusiastic with taking.
“Or maybe you’re just being stingy,” he shoots back. With a fond shake of your head, your lips are back on his, cradling his face as he leans into you until he can’t tell where you start and where he ends.
It’s hard not to give into your charms, but he’s not so sure it’s a losing battle. It feels suspiciously close to a win, in fact—that is, if Ajaw stays far, far away. (And again, it would be nice if it was not on a limited, conditional, restricted, contractual, partial, temporary basis.)
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He’s sooooo cute and his backstory literally haunts me I want to kiss him so bad you guys don’t get it. I was supposed to skip him but 173 wishes later I now have a c4 diluc and a c0r1 kinich 🥹
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kittyfrisk9 · 2 days
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IdeaDpxDc: A nice moment with a sleep demon.
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
Dead On Main.
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Danny accidentally absorbed some of Nocturn's powers (like in the Vortex episode), and now, with these new temporary abilities, why not take advantage of them? Like a kid with a new toy, Danny (or should I say Phantom: with a new design) has fun every night going from dream to dream.
The dream world is so strange! Without the constant threat of a dream entity trying to take over the world and all that. Now he has fun exploring the most unusual parts of his classmates' subconscious, or anyone's in general.
Even though he knows he shouldn't be doing this (after all, he's a responsible adult now), spying on other people's dreams isn't exactly something a mature person would do.
On the other hand, Danny is the responsible adult; Phantom is the one who uses his new powers recklessly. Plus, no one in Gotham knows who Phantom is, and at the end of the day, he's not hurting anyone. Point in his favor!
It was all fun and games… until he felt it: the unpleasant taste of a nightmare, distressing and desperate. Phantom knows he has to intervene, because, unlike Nocturn, he does not delight in the suffering of others.
So he goes. And what he sees shocks him.
Resonant laughter of a psychopath, the constant pain of flesh being beaten, and the devastating reminder that no one came to help. Phantom doesn't just see it, he feels it. Gross. What is this? Why would anyone be hurting a child? Then he understands: this is not just a nightmare, it's a memory, and someone is suffering from reliving it.
He absolutely will not allow this nightmare to continue.
...
Jason hasn't been having good days lately, mostly because instead of going to therapy, he's chosen to sweep his trauma under the rug and aggressively throw himself into crime-fighting. He's not good at dealing with his emotions, especially when he's been tormented by the same damn nightmare over and over again.
He knows the script by heart, he knows how it will end, but he still feels the same fear as the first time.
His head hurts.
"No, not again," he thinks in terror. Once again, he's tied up, unable to move or call for help. It's colder than he remembers. The walls have a grotesque tint, with laughter written in every corner. But the worst thing is the silence… until the sound of clashing metal begins to resonate.
Everything is a thousand times worse. He's sure the original scenario wasn't like this, but his terrified mind refuses to accept it.
The metallic sound resonates louder, each crash rumbling in Jason's chest. His breathing quickens, and then he hears it: that laugh.
A deep, distorted echo of laughter that seems to come from every direction. The laughter snakes around the grotesque walls, filled with the same letters that repeat his agony. “Ha… ha… ha…” fills the air, louder with each invisible step that approaches.
Then, he appears.
It’s not the Joker he remembers from that fateful night. This one is worse. Bigger, more deformed, with a smile that seems to tear at his own face. The colors of his suit are darker, more twisted. It’s as if his mind has amplified him, made him more monstrous.
“My, my, how little Robin has grown? But… something remains the same, doesn’t it? No matter how many times you live it, it always ends the same way. And to think that you were my greatest work of art!”
His voice is mocking, but behind the mockery is pure cruelty, a wicked amusement that lights up in those crazy eyes.
The Joker leans towards Jason, his face invading the small distance between them. The sound of metal continues to echo, and Jason knows what's coming next.
"Oh, I almost forgot…" he says, pulling out of nowhere an iron crowbar that gleams in the dim light of the nightmare. "It wouldn't be a good memory without this, would it?"
That's when the pain begins. Jason doesn't want to scream, and he won't. Even though that abominable creature is just a representation of his killer, he won't give him the luxury of listening to him suffer. The blows continue, and Jason bites his tongue. It's just a nightmare, it's not real… it's not real.
It's not real.
It's not real.
It's not-
"Hey… Are you okay?" he hears him ask. His shocked gaze turns to where the clown should be and discovers that he's gone. In his place, there's a handsome young man: short, slightly messy black hair, expressive purple eyes, and a body almost completely shrouded in dark shadows.
The mysterious man had a cosmic air about him, surrounded by a mix of special effects of stars and galaxies. Something magical.
And new.
Jason honestly doesn't know what he's seeing, or why he's seeing it. "What?" he says, unable to find another word to describe his situation.
The entity laughs at his stunned state, a reassuring echo very different from the joker's laughter. Then he snaps his fingers, and suddenly he's no longer in that ugly room. He's now in a field of flowers, beautiful and vibrant, looking out at a starry sky.
Okay, this is the part where he asks his brain how he went from being in a nightmare to being with a handsome guy under the stars, hands free and untethered.
"Relax, you're not crazy," the being says as he lies back in the grass. “You were in pain, and I didn’t like it, so I got you out of there. Don’t worry, that abomination won’t bother you again.”
Jason blinks twice, bewildered, not understanding anything. “You… saved me?”
“You could say yes.”
“Why?” He shakes his head. “No, wait, that’s not the question. Who…?” Looking back at the being, he decides to change his question: “What are you?”
He seems to have taken the being by surprise.
It clasps its hands together as it looks up at the sky, trying to act normal. Jason narrows his eyes. “You can call me Void.”
“Did you just make up that name?”
The being looks away, seemingly embarrassed at being found out. “Yeah…” And suddenly exclaims, “Ah, ancients! I'm not supposed to be doing this, much less with one of the bats."
That last sentence had given away more than it should have.
"Hey, how about we admire the night view and then pretend this never happened?" Void suggested with a hopeful smile, turning to Jason.
Maybe it was the soft scent of the flowers, the calm atmosphere, or just the tiredness after so many nights of endless nightmares, but Jason, without thinking too much about it, walked over, lay down next to Void on the grass, and said, "No."
He needed a break.
...
And that's how Jason befriended a dream demon. And how Danny pretended to be a dream demon until Nocturn's powers wore off. He couldn't let the bats find out his identity.
After that, they spent more time together, fell in love, there was drama and there was closure. In the middle of all that, Danny started having tea with Alfred in the dream world, and at other times, he had fun bothering the other bats in their dreams.
But that's another story.
---
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
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Outlier
You're the exception to everything Jason Todd knows about himself. He'll deal with that later. ~1.2k words
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Jason Todd doesn't smile a lot. But with you it comes easy. It wasn't anything big that drew his awareness to the fact. You were just folding laundry with him while your favorite show played in the background.
It wasn't grand. It wasn't life changing. But he's grinning with all of his teeth, and he can't seem to wipe the expression off his face.
It's stupid, really, because all you did was offer to fold the sheets so he didn't have to. And now he's giddy. He'd be embarrassed, but he's too distracted by the melody you're humming softly.
He decides to be embarrassed about it later.
Jason doesn't talk a lot about himself. He talks to people, sure, talks a lot about cases and crime, and Gotham and the mission. But the deep and dirty personal stuff? He shies away from it.
Well, that's not completely true. Not with you.
He's talking about himself now, your head on his shoulder as you stare out at the city from the rooftop. He's not patrolling tonight, and you insisted on a picnic dinner to enjoy what's left of summer.
It's peaceful, and he hooks an arm around your back when you tug his hoodie tighter around yourself, staving off the slight chill in the air. He rambles a little more, he can't help it, he always wants to talk with you, listen to you.
He'd be insecure if you weren't so obviously engaged, prompting him to keep talking and sharing your own thoughts.
He decides to second guess himself later, and enjoy the shining lights of Gotham for now.
Jason doesn't hug a lot, but you're his exception. A hug hello, a hug goodbye, a thank you hug, a 'I'm glad you're okay' hug.
He cherishes them, wraps you up against him, and doesn't let go until he starts to worry he's making you uncomfortable. He'd probably never let go if he wasn't so scared of seeming desperate to hold you.
It's not– he doesn't mean anything by it, really. There's not anything more to it.
You're just warm, soft, and you smell like you. And Jason doesn't know anything more calming and soothing than you. So, if he craves the hugs you so freely give, isn't that okay? Wouldn't anyone feel the same?
He decides to wallow in his worries later, and focuses on the way you let him bury his face against your shoulder.
Jason knows a lot of things. Things about the world, life, people, space. Things anyone else would never even be the slightest bit curious about. But, sometimes, he just doesn't know what to do with you.
It's infuriating, the way you seem to care more about others' safety than your own.
There was no reason for you to go back into fire to try and help people out. There was no reason to put yourself in danger when he was right there to take care of it.
He has no idea what was going through your head when he hauled you out of the burning building. He would have dragged you by the back of your neck if it meant you just listened to him. If, for just a second, you considered that you could have died.
The thought makes him sick. The churning of his stomach isn't enough to distract from the angry look on your face. He wonders if he was too rough with you. He can't bring himself to regret it if he was when you start coughing from the smoke.
He knows he's too rough, this time, when he pushes you towards the paramedics and heads back to the fire.
He can break down later, throw his lunch up into the toilet later, because he's always too rough. But right now? He has a job to do.
Jason fights a lot. Breaks the bones of criminals, beats bruises onto thugs, shoots bullet holes into goons. But, he doesn't really fight with you. Tonight's different.
He doesn't think you should be so angry at him. He pulled you out of a raging inferno, after all. If anything, you should be giving him one of your hugs.
You're not doing that, though. Your face is scrunched up, and you're livid, and he can practically feel the tension between you two like a physical wall. He wishes he knew the right words to say that will make you see his side.
You accuse him of thinking you can't take care of yourself. (He's fully aware you can) You tell him he was reckless to go back into the fire. (You did it first!)
You snap that he was more preoccupied with pulling you out when there were other people in danger. (Duh. You're his priority. You could have had both feet out the door, and he still would have carried you out before anyone else)
You look completely fed up by the time you're done with your rant, and he's pretty sure he's only making the situation worse because he hasn't given you an answer.
It's not that he doesn't want to, it's just he doesn't have anything to say.
He wouldn't change what he did. He's sorry he upset you. But he's never been good with words or apologies, not even with you.
So he doesn't say a thing, just stares at you with clenched fists while he waits for the inevitable order for him to leave.
And he really is prepared to leave. He's surprised it hasn't happened sooner. He'll hate it. He'll probably even do something stupid over it. But he wouldn't force the weight that is his company on you.
He'll accept that this is what changes what he is to you. At least, he'll try. Later. Right now, he's focused on not crying as the silence drones on.
Your voice calling his name cuts through his thoughts, and his gaze snaps back up to yours. He hadn't even realized he'd dropped it. You step forward, and he braces himself for what's to come. The end of this. You and him.
But the end doesn't come. You cup his face– cradle his face and ask him why he looks so miserable.
Jason's good at running. Good at burying his emotions. He has to be. But you don't look angry anymore. You look concerned. You looked more worried than you did when he was last bleeding out onto your couch. So he spills his guts.
He stumbles out how he's too rough and too wrong and he knew you'd want him gone eventually but he's not ready to go and could you please just forgive him this once for not being what you needed him to be?
He waits for you to push him away. You don't. His shoulder slump when you wrap your arms around his waist and hug him so tightly that he has no choice but to believe that you want him to stay.
He doesn't hesitate to latch onto you and mumble nonsense into your hair. Promises that he'll be better. Different. Whatever you need.
You tuck yourself closer to his chest and tell him you don't need him to be anyone else but him. The rest of your reassurances are muffled into the fabric of his clothes when he clutches you tighter.
Jason isn't very good at admitting his feelings. But he wants to. With you.
He'll figure it out later. But for right now, he lets himself sink deeper into your hug, and all the serenity you bring.
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always-just-red · 3 days
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Hii! I've seen some Pregnancy scenario with LaD's men, but I have this HC-- personally for Sylus. That when fem!reader got pregnant, he didn't really understand how the Pregnancy hormones work, until he experienced one and he got confused how he should act or react because it's feels like he's walking on landime, one wrong move/word, she'd throwing tantrum or being sulky at him
I've heard from my Friend who got pregnant before, when she craving something and her Husband showing any form that he can't fulfill what she's craves, she felt her heart broken, and she'd sulk and acted as if he just cheated on her. The problem is, she always craved something that didn't even exist at that moment😂, she's craving certain type of Mango while it's not even that Mango season, so nobody selling it. He literally being desperate to negotiate with her cravings
So... Can I request a scenario smiliar like that? It doesn't have to be mango, or any foods. Just... how Pregnancy hormones or Cravings could make Sylus got frustated lol
Aaaaa anon this is adorable, thank you! We love making Sylus suffer in cute and harmless ways. He's always asking for trouble, so let's give him some! 😌💅
Something Sweet
Sylus x Reader 🩸
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Summary: Sylus knows how to get what he wants. Getting what you want might be a little more tricky...
Genre: fluff!
Warnings/Additional tags: female!reader, IMPLIED pregnant!reader (pregnancy not actually mentioned or described- just hormones being hormones ✌), established relationship, canon pet names, a lil bit of roleplay because Sylus refuses to leave his Mystic Adventure era
| Word count: 2.1k | Masterlist |
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!
“Sy, d’you know what I’m craving right now?”
“Always, sweetie.” Sylus doesn’t look up from his book. “Not now, though. I’m tired.”
Morning sunlight streams through the gaps in your living room curtains, casting pale yellow shapes over the floor. A shard of it has been inching over the sofa towards Sylus, the sharp edge now grazing the side of his face. He shifts, ever so slightly, away from its touch. His eyes are open but heavy.
“No,” you scold, leaning forwards to swat at him with your book. “That’s not what I meant, you narcissist.”
He chuckles with his usual low timbre— his gaze still not lifting— and the sound is deeper for how close he is to sleep. He wants to give in to it, you can tell. When he turns a page, the movement is languid, soft. You’re losing him.
“Sy,” you say again, then with more of a whine: “Sylus.”
His eyes flutter closed as he draws in a deep breath. His hand raises, his fingers stretching to pull his reading glasses from his face. They’re set down on the arm of the chair beside him, along with the book, and he turns to you with a smile. “What are you craving, sweetie?”
You rest your book on your stomach. Your legs are stretched out over Sylus’s lap, and his hand finds one of your feet, massaging an ache from it as you begin your speech. “Do you remember that café we used to go to? The one we found when it started raining in the park that day? We didn’t think it was open, but then the owner knocked on the window and said we could—”
“Yeah?” His hand moves to your other foot.
“Well, they make these—”
“Macarons.”
“You remember?”
His smile widens like he remembers vividly. “Kitten, how could I forget? I’m still jealous of that sweet little treat. You’ve never made that face for me, and believe me—” he wiggles one of your toes— “I’ve tried.”
That had been one of the only times you’d truly caught him off-guard, back when your feelings for one another were unnamed and uncharted. The rain had been drumming against the café window, and you’d heaved Sylus’s damp coat from your shoulders— giggled at the raised eyebrow and the sarcastic ‘…thanks’ he’d given in turn. One hot drink later, you were lifting a pastel pink macaron to your lips, taking a delicate bite and failing to stifle a tiny, almost euphoric moan.
You remember realising yourself: blushing profusely and expecting some remark, some ridicule, but none ever came. Sylus’s eyes were wide, dark, fixed upon your still parted mouth.
After a few of the longest seconds of your life, he’d dragged the plate with the rest of the macarons away from you and muttered something about how you had better not do that again.
“They’re still the sweetest things I’ve ever tasted,” you tease now, just as you’d wrestled him for that plate back then, set on eating every last macaron.
He makes a hmph as he idly runs a finger over the part of your foot he knows is ticklish. His expression is distinctly grumpy, but it falters as you laugh and try to writhe away from him.
You’re quickly out of breath. “Sylus?”
“Mmm?”
He glances up at you and you smile sweetly, head tilting. “Please?”
His coat on a rainy day. The entire plate of macarons in the end; he’s never been very good at denying you anything. For the first time since you’d stirred him from his book, however, he appears genuinely regretful. “You’re forgetting something, sweetie,” he murmurs gently. “Why did we stop going to that café, hmm?”
You shrug.
“It closed, kitten,” he sighs. “Months ago.”
“What?”
Not only did you already know that— you actually visited the café on its final day. The owner was telling you stories: he was moving somewhere warmer, closer to family, and he needed all the funds he could get. Sylus had snuck an obscene amount of money into the man’s tip jar whilst you acted as a distraction. You both had fond memories of that place; it was nice to make one more.   
It's all coming back to you and you’re struck by a wave of nostalgia. You want to go back there. You can’t go back there. It doesn’t exist anymore, and you’ll never taste sweetness like that again.
Your mouth has gone dry.
“Sweetie?” Sylus prompts, because he notices you’re far away. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” your voice wobbles, “I just really wanted… I mean, I really needed one of those—”
“… Macarons?” he finishes for you.
You burst into tears, and one day, you’ll tally this as another time you took the man by surprise. His face drops instantly— lost, for a moment— before he slides your legs from his lap, allowing him to lean closer. “No, no, no,” he coos, “don’t cry, kitten, please. I didn’t mean to… well, I didn’t realise…”
He doesn’t know what to say, and he always knows what to say. He set you off with a single word and now he’s stuttering like sentences are all possible landmines. He tries his luck again, putting a foot forward: “Listen to me. I’ll go to the store. Would that be alright? Or perhaps there’s another café that could—”
You explode: sobbing even more viscerally. Your whole body shakes with it.
Sylus has frozen. He watches on helplessly as you cry, blabbering about the macarons you can’t have and the café you can’t return to. Across the room, even Mephisto has hunched down on his perch, though he issues a few, spirited squawks, maybe in solidarity with your breakdown, or maybe in protest of it.
It’s like a catalyst. You cry more: burying your face in your hands because what the hell is wrong with you? It’s not a big deal. It’s not a big deal, so why do you feel sick? And then there’s Sylus— your Sylus, devoted and adoring— and here you are, punishing him for something beyond his control.
You look up from your hands, desperate to apologise, but he’s gone. More shards of sunlight paint his empty seat and catch all that’s left of him: a few crow feathers, glistening like onyx. Mephisto is gone too, and the room is quiet, save for you snivelling and feeling sorry for yourself.
“Sylus?” you call out into the empty morning.
It isn’t his fault, not really. You wouldn’t want to be around you, either.
Something brushes over your cheek, and your tired eyes open.
The sun has ebbed back behind the curtains and the ceiling light has taken its place, casting artificial highlights over everything in reach: the coffee table, the closed-up flowers at its centre and a mug of tea that’s gone cold. Sylus is in front of you too, backlit and soft like a daydream, and he—
He left you.
“Sy?” you whisper warily, because the context is coming back to you slowly, piece by piece.
“Hey,” he coaxes, voice as honeyed as whatever’s turned the air sweet.
You blink, rubbing sleep from your eyes and relishing the warmth of his hand on your face. Then you slap his shoulder. “Hey, really? That’s all you’ve got— hey?”
He’s kneeling for you— on the floor, beside the couch— so you can meet his eyes. He settles his chin thoughtfully on the edge of the seat, his nose almost touching yours. “What would you prefer, sweetie?” His lips are close to yours too. “Good evening, my beloved? Greetings, my queen?”
“How about sorry?” you snap, because he isn’t cute and he isn’t charming.
He pouts. “Why sorry?”
“Because you left, Sylus!” You sit up straighter, and your phone tumbles out of your lap. Its screen is still lit-up from a few hours ago, showcasing a very one-sided conversation and a rant you never actually sent, because it’s still in the text box.
You vaguely recall writing it, so you try to snatch the phone from Sylus’s hand as he plucks it from the floor. He’s more alert than you. More co-ordinated. He keeps it out of your grasp as he reads the unsent message, an eyebrow raising.
It was a lot of things— colourful, creative— not entirely tasteful. “My, my, your highness,” he tuts, “so this is the treatment your valiant knight receives for undertaking your quest?”
“You’re not valiant,” you rebuke, and you manage to wrestle your phone from him. “You’re—”
“A heartless prick,” he finishes casually, quoting your message with a chuckle. He takes your free hand and kisses the back of it, refusing to let you pull away. “And whose fault is that, I wonder?”
“You can have your heart back.”
“Nope. You’re stuck with it, sweetie. With me, too. Now—” he sits back on his knees— “would you please ask me about my quest?”
The analogy is lost on you. You sit fully up, looking down at him. “What quest, oh valiant knight?”
His lips form a smirk; he just loves when you play along. “Close your eyes.”
You do— whether you’re queen or not. You hear him shifting aside, and then there’s a snap of his fingers. The air changes, warping like thick, liquid smoke, and you know he’s using his Evol. “Open,” he commands.
And there on the coffee table, freshly teleported, is a plate of macarons the colour of cherry blossoms. As if anticipating the comparison, Sylus pulls a handful of pink petals from his pocket and blows them up into the air so they can spiral down on the scene. He watches them. Then you. “Ta-da,” he proclaims, his tone dry but full of humour.
You’re prone to hyperbole nowadays, but this is without a doubt the best thing you have ever seen.
“Sylus,” you gasp in disbelief, “how did you—”
“It doesn’t matter,” he says; the story isn’t for today, and he’s very, very tired. A few weeks from now he’ll tell you about how he tracked down the contact information of the owner of the old café. How he spent an hour on the phone bargaining for a certain macaron recipe, and several more hours in the kitchen, trying to get them perfect. “Now, they might not be exactly the same, sweetie. But I did try to—”
You surge forwards, capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s so impulsive— so reckless— that you almost tumble down from the couch, but he catches you, steadies you, and your hand is gripping the soft of his hair as he kisses you back. Slowly, his mouth not leaving yours, he lifts you back into your seat.
“Easy, sweetie.” His voice is low as he pulls away, and though he turns his face from you, you can make out the blush on his cheeks. He settles back into his kneeling position on the floor. “I have one more surprise for you. Do try to control yourself.”
He retrieves a small, complete flower from his pocket, albeit one a little dreary from its journey. Sylus smiles triumphantly as he holds it out to you, and he was right; you do want to throw yourself at him. Instead, you take the flower and lean forwards, tucking it behind his ear before he can protest. He’d tilted closer to help you, and he sits back with an exasperated tsk when you’re done.
“It suits you,” you grin.
He yawns. “Everything does.”
You don’t want to get into trouble, so you shimmy to the very edge of your seat and carefully— showing tremendous restraint— reach out to take his face in your hands. “You’re amazing, Sy. Thank you for doing all of this for me, but…”
“But…?”
“I missed you. I like macarons, yeah,” you smile, “but I’d much rather have you.”
This time, he can’t hide his face and the way it goes pink, like the blossom behind his ear. His cheeks are warm beneath your palms. “You couldn’t have said that before I spent the whole day—”
His voice is strangled as you keel towards him— slow and deliberate— to thread your arms around him and pull him into a hug. He tenses for a moment, then wraps his arms around you too: holding you tightly, keeping you from falling any further. You can feel his hand stroking your back and he hums as you give him a gentle squeeze.
“Such a lovely moment, kitten,” he muses, your head on his shoulder. “I do hope it’s sincere, and not— say— an excuse for someone to get her paws on the macarons behind me.”
There’s another moment of quiet.
“Don’t be silly, Sy,” you retort, but your mouth is full, your cheeks are stuffed, and not a single word of it is intelligible.
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aloeveratarot · 2 days
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how do strangers view you
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pick a card ᥫ᭡
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note: this is just a short general reading so if anything does not seem to resonate please simply let it go. feedback and requests are very welcome.
pile 1:
the star, five of swords, queen of wands
strangers tend to notice that you're quite unique, you tend to catch people's eye. you have a memorable presence and many people may hold deep regret not approaching you or introducing themselves to you ~ platonically and romantically. strangers view you as independent, one of a kind, out of reach and rare. they subconsciously put you on a pedestal, projecting the image of someone quite determined and confident onto you ~ which is why some people may be too timid to approach you.
pile 2:
king of swords, seven of cups, seven of wands
you may get stares and looks a lot, especially from men. other people tend to project their own fantasies and ideas of who you are onto you ~ profiling and sizing up. you likely appear either very attractive or high status which often times inspires an instinctive comparison in others. some strangers may be rude to you for seemingly no reason ~ however i think that you tend to unintentionally trigger insecurities. you have a dreamy air and mystical air to you ~ overall i'm getting the sense you reveal to others their deepest desires whether that is physically or not.
pile 3:
six of cups, six of pentacles, seven of pentacles
strangers view you in very wholesome light. they get the impression that you are sweet, loving and a caring person. there is something quite sustainable, healthy and genuine about who you are as a person ~ possibly self made and hardworking. strangers tend to notice that you are youthful in your appearance and friendly. you may go out of your way to help others and other people wish to themselves there were more people like you in this world ~ earth angel.
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songbirdseung · 2 days
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you're here, baby / lee heeseung
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where you surprise visit your long-distance boyfriend after their tour finally ended genre long distance au, established relationship, fluff
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Heeseung settled onto the couch, his phone propped up on the armrest as he waited for your call. It was your usual routine—after his long, exhausting days of practice or after he’d spent hours in the studio, you would sync up over video calls, watching movies together as a way to stay connected despite the distance between you. It had become the highlight of his nights, and while nothing could replace having you right there with him, those virtual movie dates made the separation feel a little less painful.
His phone buzzed, and your face appeared on the screen. He grinned immediately, all the exhaustion he’d been feeling melting away the moment he saw you. You were still as beautiful as ever, and even through the screen, you always had a way of making him feel at ease.
"Hey, babe. What movie are we watching tonight?" he asked, trying to seem casual, though he was always giddy just to see you.
"Actually, before we start..." you said, your voice taking on that playful tone that always made him curious. Heeseung raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
“What is it this time?” He laughed softly, already used to your random little requests. You were always full of surprises, sending him gifts or packages to make him smile on the days you couldn’t be there.
"Can you do me a favor?" you asked, your smile widening as you watched his expression shift into slight confusion.
"Another package, huh? You’re spoiling me too much,” Heeseung joked, sitting up a little straighter. "What is it this time? More snacks? A hoodie?"
You giggled, biting your lip to contain the excitement bubbling inside you. "Just... step outside your house for a minute. Trust me, okay?"
"Outside? Babe, it’s late, and I was just getting comfortable," he said, pouting slightly, but he still got up from the couch. He couldn’t say no to you, even if it was something as odd as stepping outside in the middle of the night.
As he slipped on his shoes by the door, he still couldn’t shake the curiosity. “Alright, alright. I’m going, but this better be good.”
Heeseung opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, glancing around in the dim glow of the streetlights. The night air was cool, and the streets were quiet, save for the distant hum of passing cars. He scanned the area, searching for whatever surprise you had in store for him. “Okay, I’m here. Now where’s this package?”
"Are you sure you’re looking in the right place?" your voice teased through the phone, barely holding back your excitement. You knew he’d catch on any second now.
Heeseung laughed, his brow furrowed as he looked around again, but nothing was out of place. “Yeah, I’m looking. Did you hide it or something? Come on, give me a hint.”
Then, you dropped the surprise. "You wanna leave your lover outside?"
Heeseung froze, your words making his heart skip a beat. He turned slowly, his eyes landing on a figure approaching the house from the street. His breath caught in his throat, disbelief clouding his mind as he saw you, standing there in person, walking up the driveway toward him.
"No way," he breathed, the shock rendering him momentarily speechless. His phone nearly slipped from his hands as he fumbled to shove it into his pocket. In an instant, he dashed toward you, closing the distance between you in seconds.
You grinned as you saw him sprinting toward you, your own heart racing as you finally reached him. Before you could say anything, Heeseung enveloped you in his arms, lifting you off the ground in a tight embrace. His laughter filled the air, the joy and disbelief evident in the way he held you close.
“You’re here,” he gasped, his voice filled with pure elation as he pulled back slightly to look at your face, his hands cradling your cheeks like he needed to make sure you were real. "You’re actually here... How? When did you—"
You laughed softly, still catching your breath from the excitement. "Surprise, Hee."
Heeseung let out a breathy laugh, hugging you again, spinning you around slightly as if to convince himself that this moment was real. The feel of your warmth against him, the familiar scent of your perfume—it was all too good to be true.
"I can’t believe you’re here," he murmured, his face buried in the crook of your neck. "I missed you so much."
“I missed you too,” you whispered back, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him just as tightly. "I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to come see you."
After what felt like forever in his arms, you finally nudged him gently. "Come on, let’s go inside. It’s cold out here."
Heeseung nodded, still holding onto your hand as he led you back inside the house, his heart still racing from the excitement. As you walked in, you kicked off your shoes and shrugged off your jacket, making yourself comfortable like you’d done a million times before. It felt like home, being there with him.
But Heeseung stayed by the door, his back leaning against the frame as he watched you move around the house, his eyes filled with wonder. You were really there, in front of him, not just on a screen. It felt surreal.
Noticing him standing there, you turned around and gave him a curious look. "What’s wrong?"
Heeseung didn’t respond right away. Instead, he slowly made his way over to you, his footsteps quiet as he approached. When he reached you, he stopped just a few inches away, his hands gently resting on your arms as he stared at you, his expression soft and filled with love.
“You’re really here,” he whispered, his voice quiet and full of emotion. "You’re actually here, baby."
You smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes. "I’m here. It’s real."
Heeseung leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a moment as he took a deep breath. “I can’t believe it,” he said softly. "I missed you so much. Seeing you through a screen wasn’t enough... I needed this. I needed you."
You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer. "Well, I’m not going anywhere for a while. I’m all yours."
Heeseung let out a quiet laugh, his lips brushing against your forehead as he held you close. "Good. Because I’m never letting you go again."
The weight of the past months, the long nights of missing each other, melted away in that moment. It didn’t matter how far apart you’d been—right now, you were together, and that was all that mattered.
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sceletaflores · 3 days
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woo, my baby's got me all mixed up!
feat. logan howlett & wade wilson contains. 18+ SMUT MDNI, fem!reader, swearing, a bastard doomed polycule, more of 'why have just one bf when you can two bf's and why have just two bf's when you can have two bf's that are also each other’s bf's???', p in v, double penetration, one (1) single use of daddy, creampie(s), fingering...kind of (fem!receiving), oral sex, face sitting, face fucking, straight up nasty porn w/ zero plot, no use of y/n. a/n. this is a shorter one-shot but i can't not format it like a full fic i have to or i'll get hives. this is also just pure freak nasty gross actually probably the filthiest thing i've ever written that i thought up off too much nyquil pm last night. kisses!
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"You're killing me babe," Wade groans lowly, cheek pressed to the slick skin of your inner thigh. "If my balls didn't feel like they just got the shit beat out of them in a back alley I'd be as hard as David Hasselhoff watching David Hasselhoff movies."
His hand is at work between your thighs, thick index finger slipped into your sensitive, puffy pussy.
It should gross you out that he loves doing this so much. It should make your stomach twist with all the unpleasant feelings a normal person might get.
It should, but it doesn't.
The familiar stretch is lost from taking Logan and Wade at the same time, a rare thing in your sex life because of how big they both are. But you were in a mood tonight.
Your pussy still clenches around him, trying in vain to tighten up, not used to feeling so empty.
The subtle pressure of Wade’s finger toes the line between pleasure and the sharp burn of 'almost too much' as it swirls along the sensitive walls of your pussy.
The first time he did it you were too fucked out of your mind to do anything other than ask what the hell he was doing.
"Gotta mix it up babe," was his reply, as easy as anything. "Don't want the baby batter to curdle, if you know what I mean."
Your heart stopped, flames lapping their way up your body as Wade scooped the thin line of come trickling from your abused hole to fuck it back in, back where it belonged.
It was so filthy, so depraved that it made you go liquid between your legs.
Your eyes almost immediately slid over to Logan, ready to see him shaking his head in irritation like he usually did whenever Wade ran his mouth in bed. You found nothing, no deep grimace or raised brow in sight.
There was an unmistakable heat in his gaze that matched your own, the inky black of his pupils blown so wide you could hardly see the hazel of his irises.
The casual raise of his right shoulder when he met your eye was undermined by the way his cock started to harden where it laid against his thigh, effectively tattling on him.
It told you all you needed to know about how he really felt watching Wade between your spread legs. That alone was enough to get you ready to go all over again.
It sort of became a thing after that.
"I'm not even doing anything..." you mumble breathlessly, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Don't have to baby," Logan purrs from behind you, lips pressed to the top of your head. His hand skimming down the side of your body is enough to make goosebumps pebble along your skin, "Look perfect just like this."
It's been hours now, but they're still going. You're convinced that the two of them are the world's biggest horndogs, just once is never enough.
You lost track of tonight's rounds sometime after number five, not counting mouth and hand stuff of course. And it's starting to catch up to you, you’re tired, spent.
Wade curls his finger just right, brushing against the spot inside you that has a broken whine passing through your grit teeth. Your thighs start to tremble as a smug grin spreads across his face.
"Yeah, there it is," he teases, his voice low. He keeps the tip of his finger snug against that spot, rubbing firm circles over the sensitive nerves. "That's that spot ain't it, gorgeous."
"Wade," you mewl, hands fisting the sheets as you fight to keep still. You're worried too much squirming will make their come start dripping out around Wade's wrist, and you can't have that.
There’s a sudden silence to your right, the heaviness of it pulling at your attention. You shift slightly, catching the faintest rustle of movement from Logan.
His breath is warm against the crown of your skill, his strong chest still plastered to your back—but he's too quiet, too still. You tilt your head just enough to peek at him out of the corner of your eye, and the sight alone is almost enough to make you come on the spot.
Logan is leaning against the headboard lazily, arm that isn't circled around your waist snaking down his own with the hard length of his cock in his hand.
Your mouth waters at the sight of him, red and leaking pre-come all over his knuckles each time he twists his fist over the thick head. Your hips grind down unconsciously, a needy moan falling from your parted lips. The wet sound of it has your cheeks burning, eyes fixed on the way his heavy balls bounce with each rough tug, still so full.
"Fuck, that's it," Wade murmurs, slipping a second finger inside you while he presses a shit-eating grin to the soft skin of your lower stomach. "You like it when daddy jerks off while I'm knuckle deep in you?"
"Watch it," Logan mutters warningly, tone gone low and dark as spilled ink. His hand doesn't slow, the loose grip of his fist slipping up and down his dripping cock in time with the slick squelch of your pussy.
Your hips buck up against Wade’s hand, a loud whine tearing from your chest at the dirtiness of this whole thing. The familiar heat starts to stir in your belly, your pussy drooling more mess over his wrist the longer he plays with you.
Wade barely muffles his chuckle against your hip, dropping a quick kiss there before pulling his soaked fingers from your velvety warmth. You whine at the loss, but he doesn’t pay it any mind.
You’ll both get what you want soon enough.
"Alright, we should all know the drill by now people," he announces to you and Logan with a loud clap, pulling away from between your thighs to roll flat onto his back.
“Time to hop on the saddle, John Wayne,” he finishes, giving your ass a loving tap.
Logan snorts into your hair, dropping his cock to grab your hips and gently manhandle you until you’re situated directly over Wade’s face while Logan kneels in front of you. The jut of his cock bobbing inches away from your mouth.
Wade’s greedy fingers pry your swollen lips apart to watch the way his and Logan’s come starts to seep out from you, falling to drip onto his bare chest. He blows over the wet length of you, the cool air from his mouth has your hips twitching down in search of any friction you can get.
“Not so fast,” he scolds lightly, grinding his knuckle against the wet seam of you. Your nails dig crescent moons into his scarred shoulders, threatening to break the skin.
“You’ve gotta savor this moment, hot stuff,” he says slowly, leaning up to press a kiss directly over your throbbing clit. “You got the best seat in the house, don’t take it for granted–”
"Enough," Logan grunts, heavy hands falling on your shoulders to push you down on Wade's face, fully closing the gap. "Quit runnin' your damn mouth and make our girl feel good, red."
Wade's hands tighten their hold on your thighs, his hips bucking up off the mattress like he can't help it. His surprised moan rumbles against your clit, loud and shameless.
You cry out at the first drag of his tongue over your aching pussy, hot and wet as it slides through your dripping slit. You pitch forward, too caught up in pleasure to think clearly as you take Logan’s cock into your mouth. You take him all the way down to the root in one swift move, burying your nose in the dark hair surrounding the base. 
"Fuck," Logan bites out, eyes twisting shut as he feels your warm throat enveloping him. He takes your hair in his fist gently, just holding it as you swallow around him. 
Your hands move to rest on his thick thighs, nails scratching over the hair scattered along his skin. His breath shutters in his chest, his hips rolling forward ever so slightly, chasing the tight heat of your mouth.
The mix of your tongue tracing along the sensitive vein on the underside of his cock and the low, wet sounds of Wade devouring you has him pulsing in your mouth.
Your thighs shake on either side of Wade's head, the steady grip of his hands the only thing that keeps you from collapsing into a boneless heap on the mattress.
Your hips twitch the tiniest bit, rocking forward enough to grind your clit over the slope of his nose. He groans under you, squeezing the meat of your thighs in encouragement as he swirls his tongue through the mess dripping from your hole.
“That’s a good girl,” Logan praises gruffly, his hips speeding up. “Shut him up, baby. Make him fuckin’ eat it.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, dragging your pussy along Wade’s mouth faster. You moan desperately around your mouthful, brain going hazy around the edges.
The frantic pace you set only makes their come leak from you faster, dripping down Wade’s face faster than he can keep up, and there's just so much.
A steady, thick stream of it that feels almost never ending thanks to Logan coming like he busted a pipe and absolutely flooding your insides every single time.
Wade doesn’t seem deterred in the slightest though, swirling his tongue along you with a new sense of urgency. His hands grip your hips tighter, his blunt nails digging into your skin deliciously as he slurps and sucks with unbridled enthusiasm, chasing every drop of come.
He’s sloppy with it, come sliding down his cheeks and chin in thin rivers of white.
Logan’s rough breath hitches above you, his fingers tightening in your hair as you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks just the way he likes. His growl sends a thrill down your spine.
"C'mon, Wilson," Logan grunts, his hips speeding up. When you peer up at him, you can see the goading smile that just barely tugs the corner of his mouth up.
“Spitters are quitters, you know that."
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tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!
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tarotofhope · 2 days
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PAC: ♡゙ First Impressions - (Your FS + You) ♡゙
(Please Read My Pinned post *IMPORTANT NOTE* before selecting a Pile)
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Pick an Image by meditating and selecting the image you feel called to. You can be attracted towards more than 1 image. If you are not able to select maybe this reading isn't for you.
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Pile 1
What would you think of them:
Cards: 7 of Swords clarified by 3 of Swords Rev, Knight of Swords, Justice, 4 of Cups and Queen of Swords.
They might appear very calm and quiet to you. They could be like this by nature or because they've gotten their heart broken earlier, you will know the reason eventually. They might have been very impatient and driven by quick and not so thoughtful decisions before they became calm like a lake. They had to learn the hard way. You might also think that they speak in an unbiased manner and are very fair in their judgement. Although they might appear to you as if they don't speak much and might have a very close circle of 2-3 friends or very few people who are very close to their heart, they speak when it is required and then they speak their heart out. They appear very reserved and aloof to you. They like their solitude and would cut off ties easily with people who don't put as much efforts in a relationship as them. They might also appear very secretive to you but they are also the one to take other people's secrets to their grave. They might have major air sign placements such as Libra, Gemini Aquarius along with some water sign placements such as Pisces, Cancer, Scorpio in their chart.
What would your future spouse think of you :
Cards: The Tower clarified by 10 of Cups Rev, 8 of Swords, Empress, Judgement and Ace of Pentacles.
Their first impression of you would be that you are a f**king empress and you're just unaware of this fact. You appear to them as if you think so little of yourself, it could be so because you're very grounded and down to earth, you might find it hard to take compliments, for example: Maybe you look so gorgeous/handsome(generally) but when someone compliments you on your looks, you find it hard to believe. They do think that you look very beautiful. You become a shying mess or it becomes very awkward for you. Just like them(but yet differently), you had your own hardships, it is something related to family, now see, there could be 2 scenarios here, for a few of you, you could be facing major problems in relationship with your parents/guardian, siblings or you had to cut ties with them and for a few you, there could be a major breakup or divorce before meeting this person. Your future spouse thinks that you have a lot of potential to grow and become successful, they believe in you. They also think that you have a good judgement of right and wrong, good and bad people. They might also think that you could already be taken. You could've joined a new job or started a new business when you meet them. You could have major Libra/Taurus placements, Virgo and Capricorn, a little bit of Scorpio as well because Judgement card is ruled by pluto.
Extra Message: You guys could meet during travelling. It could be anything, while travelling within your own country or foreign travel.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 1. Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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Pile 2
What would you think of them:
Cards: Knight of Wands, 9 of Wands, The Star, The Hierophant and the Page of Pentacles.
You would get the impression that they travel a lot or more so, you have seen them travelling a lot with your own two eyes. I'm getting that you meeting them could be mostly work related. You've seen them working a lot, handling a huge pile of work by themselves, working under so much pressure yet so efficiently and with so much determination. You know that they have come so far in their career. They could be someone who started very young yet very popular/successful in whatever job they're doing. I'm getting someone senior to you mostly your superior/boss but someone who's young. They could be handling a family business or it could've been their own startup business/organisation. You draw so much inspiration from this person. This person is very helpful too, they know how to handle a team and they'll help you grow in your workplace if you work under them. They give very good career advice and they can very well figure out who's got the potential to become successful. I'm getting major Aquarius, Taurus, Capricorn, Leo, Aries zodiac signs here for your future spouse.
What would your future spouse think of you :
Cards: 2 of Wands, 7 of Pentacles Rev. clarified by Wheel of Fortune, The Fool, The Lovers and Temperance rev. clarified by King of Wands.
They could think that even you travel a lot but here with the 2 of wands, they can see in you, a lot of passion for travelling to different places, learning about different cultures and languages. They really admire that. They think that you are very tough and determined and you work hard to achieve your goals. You're not afraid to give in your all for whatever you're ambitious about. They think that you can't be controlled but rather you must be handled carefully. You have your own king/queen kinda vibe to you. You have your fate in your own hands, and nobody can make you do something that you don't want to do. You value your independence and freedom above anything else. They see a lot of potential in you because they see leadership qualities in you. This reminds me of a quote which Phil says in Modern Family, “If life gives you lemonade- make lemons and life will be all like "whaaaaat?”😜 This is what your spouse might think of your personality because you do exactly this to turn your life around.😉 That's the vibe you give. You are the bold and confident one. They think you could be a very good partner to them(both, in work as well as romantically). For zodiac signs, I'm getting Leo, Aries, Sagittarius, Gemini and Aquarius for you and strong 7th house placements.
Extra Message: You both could meet at workplace, office meeting, debates, conferences. I'm getting an office building or tower.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 2. Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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Pile 3
What would you think of them :
Cards: The Star, Page of Swords, 9 of Wands, The Hanged Man, Temperance, 5 of Swords clarified by Knight of Cups rev.
You think that they are quite balanced. They are very generous and kind with their money and other resources, very helpful too. They might be someone who's an heir to some ancestral property or their parents' property, they got a will under their name or something. You might think that their family has a good reputation and they are very protective of their family. You might also get to know that they were stuck in some situationship earlier or stuck in a job and they recently got out of it. They do not seem very lovey-dovey nor they seem too cold. They are just at the right level, perfectly balanced, according to you. But they might be someone who argues a lot, throws tantrums, wants to prove their point, likes to debate. Mostly they are very calm and won't talk much but they can't hold back when they're challenged. They might like mind stimulation a lot, puzzles or any game which challenges their mind. They might be of average height and they have a well shaped healthy body. You also think that they are very young at heart. They neither take things too lightly nor even too seriously. Most of the times, they don't show extreme emotions. For zodiac signs, I'm getting Aquarius, Gemini, Virgo, Libra and Pisces for them.
What would your future spouse think of you :
Cards: The Fool, 2 of Swords, The World, Judgement, Ace of Cups and Empress.
They get the first impression that you're freedom loving, you love to go on trips, vacations and adventures, but you might be quite indecisive, you take other people's opinions in both small and big decisions. You have a lot of patience for the world, they think. You might be a good judge of people and they admire that. You might appear very religious or spiritual to them. You have an eye for fine things, you might be into beauty or fine arts. You might be someone who's very connected to their family and roots, someone who values relationships a lot. They think you're very pretty/handsome, and you'd make for a perfect partner. They think that you're also someone who waits for the right people to enter their life rather than opening up their heart to anyone. You appear very loyal and trustworthy to them. For zodiac signs, I'm getting, Libra, Taurus, Cancer, Scorpio and Aries for you.
Extra Message: You both could meet at a small family gathering or you both are going to be introduced to each other by a third party or through family friends. It's mostly going to be from the comfort of your homes or atleast a safe, comfortable place. For a few of you, I'm also getting a place where you go to heal yourself, where you attain peace of mind, where you get some valuable advice, it could be through therapy, counselling, hospitals, spiritual or religious places, yoga centres or ashrams.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 3. Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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Pile 4
What would you think of them :
Cards: 9 of Wands, Strength, The Fool, 4 of Cups, 6 of Cups and King of Cups.
You might get the impression or you get to know this about them, that they were bullied by people or hurt in the past by friends, maybe when they were very young and because of this they might like to be left alone, they like their peace of mind and solitude so much that they don't want to be bothered by anyone. Though they may appear naive or weak to you, but they have so much inner strength, they've survived on just this strength for so long and they'll continue to do so further. They might like animals a lot. They might also love to go on solo trips, solo camping, solo adventures but here's the sad part, from deep inside within their soul, they crave for that true friendship, maybe they're looking for a true friend in a partner. They never got one, never found one. Maybe romantic/lovey-dovey relationships makes them cringe. They might be very emotionally mature too but they know the price of their maturity. Unlike others, they were given harsh/cold treatments for small mistakes, they could've gone through mental trauma, guilt or anything that challenged their calm demeanor and innocence. Keeping their solitude aside, you'll see that they're someone who's very helpful, in general. They might love to do charity and donations. I can see that the courtship period between you guys could be very challenging for you, especially. Zodiac signs of your future spouse could be Aquarius, Sagittarius, Leo, Cancer, Scorpio and Pisces.
What would your future spouse think of you :
Cards: Knight of Swords, The Devil clarified by 6 of Pentacles, 8 of Swords, Empress, 7 of Wands, Justice.
They think that you are quite the opposite of them. You fight for things that don't seem right to you whether it is for you or others. They really admire this quality about you though. They can see that you're a social butterfly, you like to make friends and hang out. You find it easy to talk to people too. They might also get to know that your actions are being controlled by other people in your life, somebody does not allow you to decide for yourself. There's someone who's told you that you can't do this or you can't do that, you feel mentally trapped with this person or these people. You just want to run away and never come back. Your spouse respects your fighting spirit, and they really would like to help you in this matter. Your future spouse and you could help each other in healing past traumas of friendships and relationships. They kind of feel secure and safe within your presence. They know you wouldn't harm them. Over the years, people have made you believe falsely about yourself but you'll get to know your inner strength when you'll meet your spouse. This relationship is manifesting in reality because you both need healing and together you'll be able to achieve this. You both have a fair sense of equality and justice. You really stand out from the crowd, for your spouse. In the beginning, this connection might look difficult, but once the bond is developed, you both will be unbreakable together. Your zodiac signs could be Libra, Gemini, Sagittarius or Virgo.
Extra Message: You both could meet while on beaches, holidays, vacations, someplace where any kind of drinks are involved such as parties, pubs, bars or clubs. There's going to be a water body surrounding this place wherever you guys meet, such as a pond, lake, river, ocean, fountain, waterfall, etc.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 4. Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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Pile 5
What would you think of them :
Cards: Death clarified by 10 of Wands, Page of Swords, Knight of Swords, Queen of Wands, 3 of Pentacles, 6 of Pentacles.
You would keep your guard up when you meet your future spouse because they appear too bold, loud and cheerful to you while you're the opposite of them. You'd think that they're not your type. At first, you might be very skeptical about your connection with them. You think that they are very quick and direct in their approach which might irk you a bit. They are also very straightforward with their words. They don't like to sugarcoat, whatever they feel or think, they would speak. So, if they like you, they'd say that directly to your face. They could be a huge flirt too. They live in the here and now. They might appear very confident and full of pride to you but this first impression of them will slowly fade away because you'll get to know that they can be serious too, they give very good advice, they are very mature, they help people a lot and they are very kind. They are the 'life of the party' kind of person and you might be the one who enjoys being alone in the corner. Eventually afterwards, they might feel like a breath of fresh air to you, like a burden has been lifted off your shoulders, when you actually get to know them. There can be some anger issues here though, some stubbornness in this person. If you see major red flags in the beginning, then you shouldn't get yourself further involved in this connection, but, because we are talking about your future spouse here, this connection is going to develop further but that does not mean you should stay in a relationship even if it gets toxic in the future. Their zodiac signs could be Aries, Leo, Sagittarius, Gemini, Libra, Taurus, Capricorn and Virgo.
What would your future spouse think of you :
Cards: The Hermit, The Hierophant, Page of Pentacles, Knight of Wands, 8 of Wands, 4 of Swords.
They might get the impression that you're very wise and knowledgeable. You appear very calm and serene to them. You might either be very traditional and religious or very unconventional and spiritual, or a contrasting mix of both. They can see that you're someone who's converted their passion into a profession, someone who's earning money from their talents and you've faced a lot of challenges regarding this. Maybe you left a proper job behind which gave you good money and started something which gave you very less money. They might be more rational and you might be someone who goes with your heart but there is mutual respect between you two. They really admire and respect you for whatever you're doing. They do not harshly judge you like others. They think you have a very calm demeanour and you're very patient. There's this innocence to you which reflects on your face and in your speech. You appear emotionally understanding and mature to them. They also think that you're quite hard to impress. Your zodiac signs could be Virgo, Taurus, Cancer, Pisces, Libra and Sagittarius.
Extra Message: You both could meet at a celebratory event, wedding, concerts, festivals, where there's lot of grandeur, lights, music, flowers, where people are dressed in their best. It could be a fine dining restaurant, a museum, art gallery too.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 5. Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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Thank you so much for being here. I post PAC readings every Tuesday and Friday. Do love and support by reblogging, liking or following.
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pedroscurls · 2 days
Note
Hugh x younger gf (always age appropriate, 30s-55).
Hugh and reader hosting a bbq with friends and reader in super horny as she sees Hugh's sweat glow under the light of the fire
sneak away with me
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summary: you sneak away with hugh during a party. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader word count: 2.2k warnings: smut (unprotected p in v sex, creampie, manhandling, dirty talk, oral - m receiving, doggy style, light spanking) a/n: ugh, i need this man bad. thank you to this anon for requesting this. i know i have more requests to get to, but i just needed some good hugh smut for my delulu mind (btw - this isn't proofread, so apologies for any typos!!!)
You can’t help but stare at Hugh. He’s talking with Shawn and Ryan at the grill, laughing with a drink in his hand and a spatula in the other. He’s wearing a white t-shirt, his arms flexing with each movement and you have to bite your lower lip at the sight of the fabric stretching around his muscles. 
The heat of the grill radiates off of him, a sheen of sweat trickling down the side of his neck as it disappears into the collar of his white t-shirt. He’s smiling and laughing – nose scrunching with each chuckle. Hugh seems so relaxed, so calm, but you… You can’t take your eyes off of him. You ended up tuning out the people you’re standing next to, eyes solely focused on Hugh. 
You and Hugh had decided to throw a casual barbeque with a handful of close friends, and especially after the success of Deadpool & Wolverine, you knew that Hugh needed this. To just relax and be around a group of people that keep him grounded. 
His eyes move towards you, flashing you a large smile as he brings his martini glass to his lips. Hugh’s eyes never leave you as he gazes at you from afar, from the rim of his glass. He knows that look you have on your face. He can see the way your eyes are ogling him, making it clearly obvious (to him) that you want him. Need him. 
Hugh excuses himself from the conversation and makes his way towards you, never once breaking the gaze. You want to walk towards him, want to just jump into his arms, but instead, you let him come to you. 
The people you were speaking with slowly walk away, giving you and Hugh some much needed personal time once he’s standing next to you. His hand rests on your lower back as he turns his head to give you a kiss at your temple, lingering for a moment to whisper. 
“You’re starin’, y’know that?” he says against your ear. 
“How can I not?” you respond, moving a hand to rest on his chest. “Do you see how good you look? And then to top it off, you’re standing in front of the grill all slick and sweaty and–”
Hugh’s low growl interrupts you mid-sentence. His lips are still near your ear as he subtly dips down to nibble at your earlobe. “This party is gonna go on for a few more hours and–”
“Take me upstairs,” you interrupt him. “They can mingle for a while. Ryan and Shawn can handle the grill.”
“You can’t wait for a few more hours?” Hugh asks, pulling back to look down at you. 
You’re gazing up at him, batting your eyelashes in his direction as you gnaw at your lower lip. “If you don’t take me upstairs, I’m gonna go up there myself and take care of it on my own,” you threaten.
Hugh’s gaze darkens as his hand dips lower to rest just above your backside. “Oh, baby, you and I both know you won’t be able to take care of it yourself.”
Your eyes narrow. “Well, you can stay down here and I’ll excuse myself from the party for a moment.” You turn on your heel, beginning to walk back inside the home you share with Hugh before he reaches for your wrist to pull you to him. You glance around, noticing that your guests aren’t even paying attention to you and Hugh. 
“Get on up there,” Hugh whispers, voice low and husky. “And when I get up there, you better be on your knees.” 
“Or what?” you ask, biting the inside of your cheek. 
“Oh, you’ll find out. Now, get on up there.” Hugh releases his grip on you and watches you walk back inside the house as his eyes drift down to your backside. He feels his manhood stir awake, beginning to press itself against the fabric of his jeans. He gives it a few more minutes before he walks over to Ryan and Shawn, asking them to watch the grill for a moment.
“Oh, we saw the way she was looking at you,” Ryan winks. “Go get her, tiger.”
Hugh rolls his eyes and walks back inside the house, ascending the stairs and skipping a step to get to the second floor quicker. He approaches the bedroom and opens the door, seeing you lying back on the mattress instead of on your knees like he asked you to. 
“What are you doing?” Hugh asks, shutting the door behind him as he reaches for his belt and begins undoing them. “You’re not on your knees and I thought I said–”
“Wanted to lie down,” you interrupt him, leaning up on your elbows as you watch undo the button of his pants and then unzip the zipper. 
“Get on your knees,” Hugh demands, walking towards you.
“Can you say please?” you tease, biting your lower lip. You know you’re playing a dangerous game, but you’re horny and you need him to split you in half. 
Hugh growls and shakes his head as he pushes his jeans and boxers down in one motion. His cock springs at attention, already leaking at the tip. 
“If anyone’s gonna be doing the begging, baby, it’s gonna be you.” Without waiting for you to respond, Hugh straddles your midsection, grabbing your hands and pinning them above your head. His cock brushes against your lips and you’re pinned to the bed, Hugh hovering above you. “Be a good girl for me and open up.”
You feel your walls clench, already wet from earlier. You can’t play this game any longer and part your lips for him. He holds your wrists against the bed with one hand, using his free hand to grasp himself at his base and directs the head of his cock past your lips. 
“Suck,” Hugh demands. He’s careful not to put any weight on you as his knees are at either side of your chest, cock slowly sliding into your warm and wet mouth. When he feels your lips wrap around him tightly, his eyes slowly begin to flutter. He pushes his hips forward, forcing you to take more of him as you stare up at him with an innocent look in your eyes. “There’s my good girl,” he coos, letting out a quiet groan as he feels your tongue swirl around his length. 
His hips slowly begin to move forward, releasing himself to grab a fistful of your hair. He groans, eyes falling shut as his head tilts back as he guides your head along his manhood. 
“Fuck,” he groans, his grip around your wrist tightening. You’ve always loved doing this for him, seeing him completely at your mercy, even though you’re the one pinned to the bed. You hollow your cheeks as you pull back from his length and then lower your head back, feeling him begin to hit the back of your throat. You let out a quiet gag, tears stinging your eyes as Hugh moans. 
He pulls away abruptly, looking down at you as his cock is slick with your saliva. He moves down your body, forcing himself between your legs as he releases your wrists. Hugh leans down and brushes his lips against yours, growling lowly. 
“I’m gonna fuck you now,” he smirks. “And then maybe you’ll be a good girl for the rest of the party.” 
You whimper, rubbing your legs together with anticipation. “And then you’ll fuck me again later?” 
“Oh, baby,” Hugh grins. “The night is only beginning.” 
Then, he climbs off the bed and grips your waist, turning you onto your stomach with ease. He then moves his hands to your hips, forcing you on all our fours as he lifts the ends of your dress to reveal your lower half, growling to himself at the lack of underwear. 
“You’re not wearing any underwear?” Hugh asks, gripping the base of his cock as he runs his head along the length of your sex. 
You moan, gripping the sheets as you try to push back against him, yearning for him to just slide into you. “N– No…”
“Ah, so you had this planned all along, hm?” Hugh says, pressing his tip to your entrance. “You’re lucky I love you,” he continues, hands gripping your hips as he slams into you without warning. He fills you to the brim, leaning over you as his lips hover against your ear. “Even though you are being bad.” 
“Y– You love it,” you say through quiet moans, trying to remain quiet even though everyone’s outside and away from earshot. 
“You’re right,” Hugh chuckles darkly. “I do like it when you’re bad. Gives me reason to punish you.” He pulls back, fingertips digging into the flesh at your hips as he wastes no time in thrusting into you repeatedly. The sound of skin slapping against one another echoes off the walls of the bedroom and you’re still forcing yourself to remain quiet, hands gripping the bed sheets. “Lemme hear you, baby,” Hugh encourages. 
His thrusts doesn’t let up. He fills you so perfectly, pulling out to his tip only to slam himself back into your warm depths. You know you’re going to be sore after this, but you don’t mind. It will only serve as a reminder of sneaking away with Hugh while hosting a barbeque with friends. 
“Oh god,” you moan aloud, eyes shut tight as you feel yourself begin to tremble. You know you’re close, know that you’re about to reach your high and Hugh knows it too. He then grabs your arms and crosses them behind you, gripping your wrists to hold them against your lower back as you move your cheek to rest on the mattress, backside high in the air for him. 
With his free hand, Hugh delivers a light slap to your ass. He groans to himself, the feeling of your walls tight around his length, milking him with each thrust brings him closer and closer to the edge. It excites him, knowing that he can fill you up with his seed. He likes knowing that you’ll end up squirming long afterwards, a clear sign of his spend pooling out of you. 
“Oh, fuck, baby,” Hugh moans, the sound of his skin slapping against yours mixed in with the sounds of your moans and the wet squelching noise coming from how wet you are. It’s almost filthy and it only drives him further. 
“H– Hugh,” you whimper, your walls beginning to clench around him as you feel your body tremble. “Oh fu–” Hugh releases your hands and grips your arms, pulling you upright to be flush against him. He moves an arm around your frame, gripping your breast over the fabric of your dress as his lips are near your ear. 
“God, baby,” Hugh growls against your lips. “Gripping me so tight, fuck,” Hugh’s hips begin to falter, his other hand reaching down to rub your clit. 
Your entire body is already so sensitive, still riding your climax and you try to claw at Hugh’s wrist, trying to push him away as the sensations become too much.
“Hugh–” you moan. “Baby, I can’t, oh god–”
“Gimme one more, love,” he says softly, breathless and panting against your ear. His grip around your breast tightens as he applies pressure to your clit, moving it in circles and at a pace to time with his thrusts. 
You reach behind you, lacing your fingers into his hair and gripping it tightly as your body shakes against him. You let out a loud moan as your walls tighten once more around his length and you feel him loosen his grip around you, moving his hands to your hips. His hips stutter and you feel his warmth shoot inside of you, filling you to the brim. 
He rolls his hips a few more times before he pulls out, watching his spend slowly begin to drip out of you and down your inner thigh. He growls at the sight and then watches as you move to lie on your abdomen, trying to catch your breath. 
Hugh walks to the bathroom to grab a warm and wet towel to clean you up. You shiver against his touch, looking over your shoulder at him with a lazy smile. 
“You better wear some underwear when we go back out there,” Hugh chuckles. “Or else this is gonna go everywhere.”
“Mmm, I like it,” you smile.
“I like it too, baby.” Hugh smiles, leaning down to peck your lips. “Love knowing that you’re filled of me.” 
You bite your lower lip and look up at him, slowly moving to lie on your back as you gaze into his eyes. “I love you, Hugh.”
“I love you too, baby.”
“Do we have to go back out there?” you tease with a quiet laugh.
“Just a few more hours and then it’ll just be me and you,” Hugh promises.
You nod and then stand up once he’s finished cleaning you up, walking to the closet to pull on a pair of panties underneath your dress. When you step out, you see Hugh pull up his pants and boxers, buttoning and zipping it back up as he loops the belt around himself. 
He looks over at you and smiles, walking towards the door and taking your hand with him. 
“Ryan’s definitely going to give you shit,” you laugh, descending the stairs with him and going back out to the backyard to join everyone else.
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wheeboo · 3 days
Text
love surge | kwon soonyoung
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SYNOPSIS. in which soonyoung experiences a love surge whenever he's with you. PAIRING. kwon soonyoung x gn!reader (ft. a mention of wonwoo, latte, and small cameo of nct's doyoung) GENRE. fluff, friends to lovers, established relationship WARNINGS. reader wears a dress to prom, someone give soonyoung a medal for having a crush on reader for a whole ass three years, bro is WHIPPED™️, mild language, one suggestive scene, terms of endearment, kissing WORD COUNT. 4.8k
notes: u guys know how he vibrates whenever he's excited?? heh,,
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The first time Kwon Soonyoung experienced a love surge was when he was fourteen years old.
He didn't know what to make of it at the time. Usually it would be a reaction to something cute or exciting𑁋like one of the many occurrences the neighbourhood kittens would stroll along the sidewalk on his way home from school, or the time he won a tiger plushie from the claw machine at the arcade.
It's as if his body would experience this sudden burst of energy, an uncontrollable fluttering that made him feel like he could run a marathon or jump to the moon, and he'd be left grinning ear to ear.
But this time, it wasn't a kitten or a plushie.
No, it was a person.
A new school year meant new people. New classmates, new faces, and new things to get used to. Soonyoung had never really thought much about it𑁋he was the kind of kid who could make friends easily, who moved through life with an easy smile and a boundless energy that drew people to him. Though he did have his own worries and anxieties about being a fresh new fish in high school, he was quite excited for what the future held for him now.
However, it had been exactly six minutes after class started that the door opened one last, final time.
The face he sees emerges into the room is one full of panic and a hint of embarrassment. Soonyoung catches your apprehensive eyes as you gaze around the room, searching for an empty seat, briefly landing on his eyes and the barren seat that was just conveniently the only one left in the room.
A small mutter of indecipherable apologies leaves your mouth towards the teacher as you slip your way throughout the classroom, feeling nearly everyone's eyes on you while nearly stumbling over other student's backpacks on the floor. The second you land at the empty spot right next to him, Soonyoung's breath catches in his throat.
It's almost as if his brain is struggling to register your presence right next to him, watching the way you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before fumbling for something inside your backpack.
Then your eyes furrow together defeatedly, and nothing could prepare Soonyoung when you turn towards him.
"Um..." You mumble quietly, letting out an embarrassed chuckle. "Hi, uh... do you happen to have an extra pencil with you?"
Soonyoung blinks, realising you were talking to him. "Pencil? Oh, yeah..." He reaches for his pencil bag, fishing out the first one he grabs ahold of and offers it over to you. "Here you go."
"Thanks so much," You say with relief, accepting the pencil with a cute, shy smile. Your fingers briefly touch, and the glance you both exchange afterwards seems to fill with a soft, awkward charm. "I'll make sure to bring it to you back after class, uh..."
Soonyoung brightens up. "Soonyoung!" Then he lowers his voice from how loud he seemed. "It's... Kwon Soonyoung."
"Kwon Soonyoung." The curl to your lips tug slightly more upward, and Soonyoung's heart does a little jump at the sight. "I'm Y/N."
Y/N, he repeats in his head.
His palms suddenly feel warm, and he has to ball his hands into fists at his side to stop his hands and legs from shaking and the jolt of excitement that ripples through his body. He can feel his heart thumping forcefully against his ribcage, like a thousand tiny fireworks going off all at once in his chest, and he can't tell whether it's from nervousness or pure exhilaration. Maybe both, at this point.
As class passes by, he notices the way you mindlessly doodle with the pencil he gave you, and for some reason, it makes him absurdly happy. He wonders if you'll return the pencil after class, and part of him hopes you don't. That way, he'll have an excuse to talk to you again.
Honestly, he might literally burst from the grin spreading across his face. It's a surge unlike any other one he's had before. And it's not from a game or a cute animal𑁋it's from you.
By the time class ends, you do seem to forget to give Soonyoung his pencil back, and you drift through the class too quickly that he isn't able to catch up with you before you're out the door. His shoulders slump as he fails to catch any sight of you in the crowded hallways.
Though as he shakes off the disappointment on the way to his next class, he feels that surge again. It brings a skip to his step that nearly makes him trip on his shoelace; a hopeful flutter to his heart; a smile to his face that refuses to fade for the rest of the day.
Fourteen-year-old Kwon Soonyoung doesn't really understand what having a crush is like or what love really is yet, but he knows this: whatever that feeling was, he hopes it happens again.
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Seventeen-year-old Kwon Soonyoung tied his own tie for the very first time.
It took him approximately nine tries to finally perfect it. His hair is slicked back, and he's wearing the crispest shirt he owns, freshly ironed by his mother just an hour prior. Adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves, Soonyoung smooths over his suit one last time before turning around and taking the longest, deepest breath known to mankind.
Prom is supposed to be a night of fun, celebrating the end of high school and the journey he's about to embark on in life. He's quite excited on where life and time is about to take him, to be honest. But he tries not to think too much about that right now𑁋today is about today only.
Soonyoung finds himself squished in the backseat of Wonwoo's car with his friends, all chatting enthusiastically about the night ahead as they head to the venue. Music pumps loudly through the car's speakers, vibrating through the cramped space, and he's sure as hell that other cars could hear just the amount of excitement that was pouring out from the vehicle and into the cool, night air. But he doesn't care, nor do his friends.
The venue for prom is romantically lit and decorated, with fairy lights lining the entrance inside. Other students mingle, all dressed in their finest attire, posing for photos together with friends or with dates. Soonyoung and his friends spill out of the car, laughter and chatter flowing freely. After taking a few group photos outside, they finally head into the venue.
The night is filled with camaraderie as it progresses. Soonyoung lets himself lose on the dance floor as he spins and laughs with his friends and other students alike. His heart pounds to the beat of the music, the pulsating lights making everything feel surreal. At one point though, he drifts away from the group decides to take a break and grab a drink from the refreshment table.
Cold water cools down his throat as he glances around the venue, taking in the sight of everyone enjoying themselves. For a moment, Soonyoung leans against the refreshment table, savouring the moment, eyes searching around for something he wasn't entirely sure of𑁋until his gaze locks onto you.
You're standing near the edge of the dance floor. The dress that you wear shimmers softly under the lights. You look so effortlessly beautiful, like a scene out of a dream, and all the words he could ever think of scatter in his mind.
He hadn't forgotten about you, not in the slightest. Over the years, you'd become pretty good friends he would say, sharing a few mutual classes, bumping into each other in the hallway, exchanging quiet, lighthearted conversations and laughter whenever the teacher was lecturing and occasional banter. But Soonyoung realises he had never done exactly anything about the small, tiny crush he developed for you over time as he was dumbly scared to admit it.
And the feelings resurface all from a singular glance in your direction.
However, something else he catches is the way you appear seemingly torn between glancing down at your phone and back towards the sea of people passing by you in all sort of directions. You don't look... happy; if anything, you seem a bit lost, maybe even a little overwhelmed.
Soonyoung hesitates for a moment, contemplating whether to approach you or not. But then he decides to suck it up, and without anymore thought, he pushes himself away from the refreshment table and trails over to you, sliding his way past clusters of people, dodging swinging arms and spinning bodies until he finally reaches you.
You don't notice him at first, your attention still flitting nervously between your phone and the crowd, but Soonyoung clears his throat softly.
"Y/N?" he calls out to you, voice coming out a bit cracked.
You jump slightly, startled by the sudden voice cutting through your thoughts as you turn around. When your eyes meet his, Soonyoung watches your shoulders visibly relax.
"Soonyoung?" Then your gaze roams over him, taking him in with a small smile. "Wow, I almost didn't recognise you. You look great."
Soonyoung forces out a quiet chuckle, feeling warmth creep up his body, bashful hands coming to scratch the back of his neck.
"Thanks," he mutters, eyes trailing down towards the ground. "And you look... really beautiful tonight too."
You peer down at yourself, feeling the smile on your face widen ever so slightly at his words. "Thank you, Soonyoung."
A brief pause comes between you two as you both search for something to say. Once again, he watches you glance between your phone, to the crowd, and back to him again. There's some sort of apprehension in your eyes, and his brows furrow in concern.
"Are you okay?" Soonyoung asks, almost too quiet he isn't sure if you heard him at first.
You seem to hesitate for a moment before offering a small, forced smile. "Yeah, I just..." Then you purse your lips together. "You don't happen to have seen Minhyun around here, right?"
Minhyun? "Minhyun?" Soonyoung racks his brain for a moment, searching for that particular name through his crowded mind. "As in Minhyun from... the basketball team?"
"Yeah, him," You respond with a nod. "He's... my date for tonight, but uh... I think he ditched me. He was with me earlier and said he'd be right back. I've been looking for him for twenty minutes and he's not responding to any of my texts."
It's almost as if a hand reached its way into Soonyoung's chest, giving his heart a tight, worried squeeze, as well as a bit of frustration coursing through him. How could someone ever ditch their own date for prom? Let alone, out of all people, ditch you?
"I'm sorry, Y/N," he says, before his face brightens with determination. "Do you want me to help you look for him? I could ask around."
Immediately, you shake your head. "No, that's okay, Soonyoung. I appreciate it, though."
"Are you sure?" he urges gently. "I could... keep you company while you wait for him, maybe? Or we𑁋"
"Soonyoung," You cut his words off with a soft, tired chuckle, yet with a hint of firmness. "You don't have to do that. I don't want to ruin your night."
Soonyoung opens his mouth to protest, but the look in your eyes stops him. Still, his heart clenches at the thought of you standing here all alone, waiting for someone who might not even come back.
"I'll just head outside and wait for him," You tell him. "You go ahead and enjoy the night, okay?"
Before he could say anything more, you're brushing past him and heading towards the exit. Soonyoung watches you as you disappear through the crowd, the sparkle of your dress fading into the shadows of the venue's door. His chest tightens as a wave of disappointment washes over him, and for a moment, he just stands there, conflicted. Part of him wants to let you be, respect your decision, and go back to his friends. But the other part of him𑁋the one that's been harbouring this quiet, persistent crush for years𑁋won't let him just walk away.
However, as he attempts to take a step in your direction, a hand lands at his shoulder.
"Soonyoung! Come on, they're about to play the Cupid Shuffle," Doyoung exclaims, pulling him towards the dance floor with excitement.
For one last time, Soonyoung glances over his shoulder and towards the doors you just left. However, Doyoung continues dragging him by the ear towards the dance floor and where the rest of his friends are, already getting in position to start dancing. The familiar rhythm of the Cupid Shuffle takes over the room, and for a few minutes, Soonyoung lets the music take over. He joins in with the laughter and energy, moving in sync with his friends and the rest of the crowd.
Yet it's hard to shake off the lingering worry even while dancing, this ache to his limbs that causes his lively moments to be more subdued. Each second that passes, this pang of guilt hits him even harder.
He doesn't want to see you like that𑁋alone, waiting for someone who doesn't deserve you.
Soonyoung clenches his fists and makes a decision.
Suddenly, as if on autopilot, he finds himself drifting away from the dance floor and his friends and towards the exit of the venue. The night had gotten a little more cooler, hitting him square in the face the second he steps out. But he fixes his attention on finding you.
It doesn't him take long. He catches the familiar sparkle and colour of your dress, seeing you perched on a lone stone bench away from everybody else.
Your phone sits idly right next to you, gaze lost ahead on the packed parking lot.
"Y/N?"
You whisk your head around, catching Soonyoung slowly making his way towards you.
"Soonyoung? What are you..." You swiftly smooth out your dress with your hands. "I told you that I'll be fine."
"Well, I was never really good at following directions anyway..." He pauses when he comes in front of you. "Um... can I sit next to you?"
You give him a small nod.
Soonyoung casually places himself next to you on the bench, feeling the chill of the evening air but more focused on the warmth of being beside you. He glances at you, noticing the faint traces of concern still etched on your face.
"He didn't come, did he?"
You smile faintly at that, before it falters immediately. "No."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be," You assure him. "Honestly, in a way, I was kind of hoping he wouldn't."
Soonyoung's eyes widen in surprise at that. "Really?"
"Mhm." You fiddle nervously with the bracelet around your wrist. "My friends set me up with him, even though I didn't exactly want to go to prom in the first place. But I just felt... obligated to, you know? Then I spent about two hundred dollars on a dress I'll only wear for one day in my life. But when Minhyun didn't show up, it was almost relieving, I guess. It just felt like one less thing I had to pretend to enjoy."
There's a brief pause as Soonyoung takes in your words and the way the moonlight reflects off your dress, the way your hair is perfectly styled and the incoming breeze that tousles it just a bit.
"If it makes you feel any better," Soonyoung starts, scooting a bit closer to you. "I... still think you look really pretty."
For a moment, you blink at his words, before the giggle you let out afterwards appears more natural, light-hearted, and genuine than all of the fake smiles you've plastered on throughout the night. Soonyoung can't help but let out a few soft, somewhat awkward laughs himself, a wave of accomplishment flowing through him.
You glance at Soonyoung, taking in his slouched posture, the crinkle at the corners of his eyes, and the easy, almost boyish grin that seems to settle into place whenever he's around you. You don't ever recall spending alone time with him in the few years you've known him around school.
You've always been used to his energetic attitude, this infectious brightness that follows him anywhere and everywhere. It's a bit strange to witness this side of him, but the comfort of his presence right now feels oddly right.
"It's a bit too early for prom to end right now." He faces towards you eagerly. "We should do something."
You lift a brow. "Like what?"
Soonyoung nips the bottom of his lip in contemplation, before he abruptly stands up and offers a hand toward you in this goofy, gentlemanly fashion.
Your eyes widen as you look up at him. "Soonyoung..."
"May I have this dance?" His lips quirk up into a playful grin.
You look around the area, noticing that there was no one else in sight. It was just the two of you outside right now.
"You know that I can't dance," You say to him.
"That's okay," Soonyoung reassures you. "I know that you didn't want to come to prom, but... let me at least make it worth it for you. I can be your date for a few minutes, if you want."
I can be your date for a few minutes. The words bounce off the walls in your head, and the flutter you feel in your heart warms your face.
With some slight hesitation, you allow him to take your hand, and he practically makes you leap off the cold-stoned bench and towards a more secluded part of the parking lot, right under the glow of a streetlamp. The noise from prom fades away into the background.
Soonyoung faces toward you, and the gleeful grin on his face melts away into a softened, almost sheepish look.
"You can, um... put your hands right here. On my shoulders. And I’ll place my hands... here," Soonyoung instructs with a nervous chuckle, hands hovering near your waist. "If that's alright with you."
Soonyoung doesn't exactly know why he's suddenly feeling so bold. Maybe it's because he's spent quite literally almost all of his high school years admiring you silently from afar, or because tonight has been a rollercoaster of its own and he's realised that he doesn't want to waste this chance with you.
Placing your hands tentatively on his shoulders, his hands gently settle on your waist. Admittedly, it's a bit clumsy, awkward as you both just stand there, feeling the cool breeze against your skin and the faint hum of music from inside the venue. However, it seems to melt away when you both start slowly swaying back and forth.
"Try not to step on my feet," he mutters cheesily.
"Okay, mister professional," You tease amusedly, nerves settling as you adjust your feet so that you don't accidentally step on him with your heels.
As you both sway along a comfortable rhythm, Soonyoung continues to gaze at you. Not in a weird way𑁋at least, he hopes he's not𑁋but with a kind of adoration he's sure everyone could read on his face. It feels natural, this simple dance beneath the streetlamp, like a small piece of the prom night that was meant for just the two of you.
You gaze up at him wonderingly, squeezing his shoulder to get his attention. "What?"
"I..." Gosh, Soonyoung, snap out of it! "You're just... really pretty. That's all."
His words come out quiet and almost all mumbles as he hangs his head down low to the ground.
"You've told me that three times tonight," You remind him playfully. "in the span of an hour."
"I-I'll stop. I'm sorry𑁋"
"You don't have to stop," You cut him off softly, voice tinged with a smile. "But if you wanted to ask me out, you know... I wouldn't say no. No need to be shy about it."
Your words make Soonyoung freeze in place, his hands still on your waist. Along with the night, he holds his breath. For a moment, Soonyoung's brain short circuits, and all he can do is blink at you in disbelief.
"Y-You wouldn't?" he stammers.
You shake your head softly, that small smile still lingering. "No. I wouldn't."
Soonyoung's hands instinctively tighten just a little around your waist, as if he's afraid you might slip away. He clears his throat, trying to muster up some confidence.
"So... I could be your date a little longer than a few minutes?"
A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you meet his nervous gaze, your fingers unconsciously tightening their hold on his shoulders.
"You could be my date for the rest of this night. Or this week. Or however long you want, Soonyoung."
There's that surge again𑁋a rush of warmth that sweeps through Soonyoung's entire body from top to bottom and making him feel like he's floating on cloud nine. He feels his pulse quickening, his heart racing, and the mask that was suppressing his giddiness all finally shed light. He's certain that you could feel it, too.
Seventeen-year-old Kwon Soonyoung feels as though he's stepped into a dream. Perhaps the universe had listened to his wishes all along.
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Twenty-two-year-old Kwon Soonyoung had been told that high school relationships rarely ever last.
Well, to be fair, the two of you got together at the end of the year, so did it really count? He doesn't exactly know. But he's seen friends of his own break up with their supposed 'high school sweethearts'𑁋the ones where they've promised marriage and eternity and everlasting love𑁋and he'd been warned time and time again that those relationships often fizzle out when faced with the realities of adulthood.
But here he is, twenty-two, and still with you.
Soonyoung finds himself sitting at the dining table, laptop propped up in front of him, finally submitting his last assignment of the entire school year. And when he does, he shuts his laptop close, leaps out of the chair, and pumps his fist up into the air in victory.
"Yes!" he exclaims proudly into the empty apartment. "I'm done!"
He lets out a whoop of excitement, a grin stretching across his face from ear to ear. Finally the past few weeks of late nights and strenuous studying have paid off, and now, he gets to relax.
More importantly, he gets to relax with you.
As he's tidying up the apartment, the click of the door lock grabs his attention. His face lights up, and he quickly finishes putting away the last of the dishes, making a beeline straight to the front door.
You're walking in with a couple grocery bags, yet nearly drop them when a pair of arms wrap around you.
"Soonie! What the𑁋"
"I just submitted my last assignment, baby!" Soonyoung announces to you eagerly, arms squeezing around you in a tight hug. "We're done with school!"
When he pulls away, you give him a quick kiss to his cheek. "For now."
Soonyoung pouts slightly as you slip past him and towards the kitchen, beginning to put away the grocery bags. "Aw, come on, you're not excited for me?"
You chuckle at that. "Of course I am."
"But you're not showing it!"
You turn around, and Soonyoung is already standing in front of you with his arms folded across his chest, feigning a dejected look to his features𑁋a look that you know so well.
You could only let out a sigh, extending a hand to tug at his sleeve, pulling him closer to you.
"I'm proud of you, Soonie," You tell him warmly, watching the way his expression softens when he's this close to you. You let your fingers trace shapes up and down his arm. "I really am."
As another grin makes its way across his face, Soonyoung feels that familiar surge of energy𑁋of love𑁋course through him, and he wraps his arms around you once more to lift you up onto the counter. You yelp out a surprised giggle at his gesture, instinctively circling your arms around his neck for support. His eyes never leave yours as he gently sets you down, his hands resting lightly on your hips, face just inches from yours.
Soonyoung always feels like he might burst from happiness when he's this close to you, even in the few years you've been together now. He knows it's a feeling that won't go away, not now, not ever, not anytime soon.
"Gosh, you're so pretty, you know that?" He kisses you so softly, careful not to let all of his affection spill out right now. "So fuckin' gorgeous..."
"Okay, handsome, what happened to 'we're done with school'?" You tease gently, sighing quietly when his lips meet the skin of your shoulder. "Don't you want to make plans?"
"I have plans, alright," Soonyoung mutters against your skin, his lips brushing softly against your collarbone. "And you don't have to do anything else, m'kay?"
You tilt your head back slightly, gazing at him with amusement. "Are you sure that's all you need from me?"
"Hmm, a few more kisses wouldn't hurt, and I'll do the rest, yeah?" Soonyoung suggests playfully, already puckering his lips out for you. "Can I take care of you, please?"
You just giggle, taking his face in your hands and instead of kissing his lips, you press one right to the tip of his nose. "Whatever you want, Soonie."
The love surge that has been building up in his system finally releases its way out of his body, bursting out of him and consuming his entire being the second your mouth meets his. He's swift to pull you close and lift you effortlessly off the counter, his feet bringing him in the direction of the bedroom, your laughter mingling together and bouncing off the walls.
Twenty-two-year-old Kwon Soonyoung is convinced that no matter how much love he feels or how many times he shows it, there will always be more to give.
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Twenty-eight-year-old Kwon Soonyoung finds that the word home has taken on a new meaning over the years.
Sure, he can find his proper comfort in the physical aspect, but it's different when you are in it with him.
Just like now, with you simply laying right next to him in bed, with Latte settled on your other side and body encased by the warmth of the duvet. Soonyoung doesn't think this is a sight he can wake up to every day; he knows it'll be a sight he'll have the privilege of cherishing for the rest of his life.
"Baby?"
"Hm...?"
He giggles lowly at the way your voice sounds so sleepy and content. Carefully, he presses his body up more against you, slipping one of his arms over you and the other under your pillow to draw you even closer to him. Your legs tangle even more together underneath the duvet, and he can't help but smile at how perfectly you fit against him.
"Hi," he whispers playfully into your ear, causing your nose to crinkle endearingly.
Yet instead of pushing him away, you flip over in his hold, nestling your head on his chest and muttering out a drowsy hi against him. Your arm wraps around his waist, and you let out a content sigh as you press a soft kiss to his neck. Soonyoung lets out an airy sigh, feeling the cold metal of the ring on your finger meet the skin of his back where his shirt had ridden up a little.
Even with years of being together, this routine of morning snuggles hasn't changed one bit; if anything, you seem to initiate more of the cuddles these days, and he doesn't mind it at all. Not one bit.
Latte curls her way into a more comfortable ball against your back as Soonyoung runs his hand under your shirt just slightly to trace his fingertips over the skin of your spine.
As he holds you for a few more, long minutes, Soonyoung separates himself a little, not to fully let go of you but just to capture his first glimpse of your face for the day.
"So pretty," he says, poking softly at your cheek. It's probably his quadrillionth time telling you that and every possible synonym of it, but it never seems to lose its meaning.
Slowly, your eyes flutter open to peer at him with a groggy but affectionate gaze.
"I love you."
Soonyoung blinks dazedly. Somehow, still always, he's always caught by surprise whenever you say those three little words to him. He's been hearing them for years now, every day and every night, but every time, it feels like the first.
It's almost ridiculous to admit how much of an effect you have on him still, how much you've managed to wrap him around your finger since the first time you met, but the heavens only know how grateful he is for it.
"I love you too."
Then his lips curl up into cheesy grin, and the surge of love that courses through him once more makes him tightly wrap his arms around you, causing you to stuff your face into his chest. You feel his body vibrate around you, muffling your giggles in his embrace, and accidentally jerking Latte awake with a soft whine.
Twenty-eight-year-old Kwon Soonyoung had finally discovered the meaning of home and love.
And it's you.
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dcxdpdabbles · 10 hours
Text
DCxDP Fanfic Idea: Petal to the Metal.
It's starts off simple enough.
Tucker realizes that, with the map from the Far Frozen, there was a chance they could find an earth similar to their own within the Infinite Realms. The only difference? It would be a few years ahead of their timeline.
If they happen to pop over there and gather "helpful" tips, like "What were the lottery winning numbers in 2008?" or "What companies were the best to invest in the early 2000s?" then who would be the wiser? It's not like they were stealing anything.
They just put one foot in front of the others at the starting line. Some may say cheating (Sam) but Tucker prefered to be prepared. It didn't take too long for Danny to agree.
A way to guarantee wealth? Sucess? Heck, they may even be able to "discover" cures for deadly illnesses. It would be rather selfish of them not to use the map for the greater good.
Sam chose to stay behind, stating she was already rich and didn't need to cheat into more gold. Tucker personally thought she didn't understand the common folk like the two boys.
The plan was simple. They had already located the suitable earth; they would go in, spend a weekend sightseeing (and gathering info), and then return home. As far as their parents knew, they were going to a concert in another state, having bought fake tickets and hotel rooms to sell them. It took a lot of begging on both sixteen year olds part but eventually neither parent had denied them the trp and off they went.
Danny had even attacked a miniature portal ray to their beat-up car, having taken inspiration from the time Jonny 13 had modified his bike back in the day. He had blown it up after helping the biker win back Kitty, but he hadn't forgotten about it.
They hoped that a car like their own wouldn't stand out too badly in 2020, praying that people would just assume them to bepoor. How different could cars be in such a short time anyway?
The bags were packed, the car was filled, Danny had set the miniature portal, and the two drove out of the city limits to fire it up. It required a lot of speed, since Tucker's plain toyota wasn't a space ship design to travel the death diminsion.
Danny had offered to drive, seeing as Tucker hated being behind the wheel on long road trips, and once his parents could see them- Mr. Foley didn't like his son lending his car to his friends. One never knows what could happen with teenagers- he had switch seat with Danny.
Danny, who has Fenton blood, had him put the petals to the metal and had no problems raising their speed to the one hundred needed for the miniature portal to work. The plan was perfect.
The plan fell apart when the portal opened in front of a clown about to put on a show for a large crowd. They ran him over with their car.
"Omg! You hit a clown!" Tucker screams watching the body roll off the windsheild.
Danny's grip on the stirring wheel was knuckle white but his eyes were narrowed in satisfication. "Good"
"No not good! This isn't Freakshow! That was a random clown doing a show and we killed him!" Tucker screams as Danny puts the car in reverse and runs him over again.
"Danny!"
Outside the vechile people were screaming, lots of them pointing and one clear voice ran above the rest.
"They killed Joker!"
Danny reached down and flickered on his favoritedriving song as various people started to climb on the stage. Poeple dressed in strange clothing.
Was that a Bat?
"Hold on Tuck!" is his own warning before Tokyo Drift started blaring through the speakers as he slammed his foot on the petal again. They blew through some barrels of green liquid and drifted off the stage onto the road with Danny sining at the top of his lungs.
Tucker could barely hear himself scream as people jumped out fo the way unprepare for a Driving Fenton like Amity Park was.
Maybe Sam was right. This was a terrible idea.
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flawseer · 1 day
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In your last ask, you mentioned misgivings with Book 10's ending, and especially how it pertains to Winter. I absolutely agree, and I know why, but I wanna hear your thoughts on it, too: What's up with Book 10?
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The following is a (very long) examination of my personal feelings with regards to the WoF second story arc finale. While it is based on what is in the text, this analysis will be interpretive and fill in blanks with my own thoughts. Keep that in mind.
Hahhhh... okay. Since mentioning it in my last post I’ve gotten several requests to talk about my feelings regarding the second arc finale. There’s probably no way around it then.
If you haven’t read that last post (it was admittedly very long, and so will this one be), I talked briefly about why I didn’t like that part of the story. I have to warn you now, this will likely be the most negative and dour post in the history of this blog. In a few parts it will sound like I hate Wings of Fire, and I want to say now, while I still have the chance, that I don’t. I love this series, thinking about its setting and characters brings me joy.
I also—very emphatically—want to make it clear that I have no ill will against Tui T. Sutherland. I’ve looked around other people’s stuff a bit and there are a huge number of posts wishing violence upon her or threatening her for doing things to her series that people don’t agree with. That is NOT what I am doing here, shit like that is NOT okay! While I will be critical of her choices, I still respect her effort of bringing this vibrant, wonderful world of dragons to all of us.
Also, obligatory last disclaimer: If you liked the finale, that is okay. You are valid for feeling that way. I’m here to share my point of view, not to demand people agree with everything I say. Just be warned that you most likely won’t enjoy what I have to say. If you don’t think you can handle that kind of criticism, this is your guilt-free opportunity to stop reading.
Otherwise, let's get into it.
CW: Discussion of parental abuse, depression, disease, and extreme acts of violence.
In defense of the finale
Before I start to systematically disassemble this narrative and get lost in a quagmire of negativity, let’s talk a bit about the circumstances that brought forth this part of the story. The plot of this arc was a mess from the moment animus magic was unshackled from the restrictions it had in the first arc, and from then on there was no longer any conceivable way to end this story in a clean way. Sutherland had created an invincible, unbeatable, omnipotent villain; he could read minds, see the future with perfect clarity, and anything he could imagine he could conjure into existence at any time with no cost to himself and no drawbacks. She was likely wracking her brain about how to resolve this impossible conundrum. What we got wasn’t good, but I believe nothing could have been. The foundation was rotting and by the fifth book it couldn’t bear the weight of the plot anymore.
The thing about animus magic in arc 2 is that it is so potent, so all-powerful, and so free of restraint that everyone who uses it also HAS to be a simpleton, or they would be able to break the plot immediately and become god. From the moment Darkstalker broke out of that mountain, he could have said “Any and all spells that are cast with the intention to harm me, interfere with my plans, or do something I don’t consent to will not work, from now on until forever”, and he would have instantly won. The strawberry would have fizzled out. The Darkstalker-blocking earrings would not have been created, and no one could have saved the Icewings. On the flipside, Turtle or Anemone could have said “I enchant the concept of animus magic itself to no longer obey Darkstalker”, and his threat would have been neutered. Point is, powers as potent and easy to use as this really need limitations, or they will quickly eat your plot alive.
I don’t envy the situation Sutherland was in at the time at all. If you’re an author, that kind of thing is a nightmare. It really is no wonder she decided to blow up animus magic for good in her next arc, even if I would have preferred it to get more healthy restrictions instead of killing it outright.
The Darkstalker age regression thing
Everyone has talked this part to death already, but if I am to write a thorough analysis of my feelings regarding this finale, I’m going to have to talk about it as well. I’m sorry if I end up repeating a lot of things you’ve already heard.
This final fate of Darkstalker, to have his memories wiped and be reset to an infant, is really uncomfortable. As far as I am aware, though correct me if I’m wrong, Sutherland said in an interview that she didn’t want Darkstalker to die because, in her view, he did not deserve to. We can debate here about the philosophical question of whether anyone is truly deserving of death, and the merits of “justice” and “punishment”, but in general, Wings of Fire did not seem to have any issues killing off its villains prior if they committed suitably terrible acts. That makes this moment stand out as noteworthy.
Who is Darkstalker then--and if we assume villains can be “deserving” and “not deserving” of death--what about him speaks in his favor, or against? The guy had a pretty crappy childhood, coming from a broken home (there is that inadequate parent theme again). He genuinely loved his sister and felt protective of her, and whenever he liked someone he wanted them to be happy and feel affirmed. The thing that Queen Diamond does to his mother is awful and he is justified in hating her for it. He is also portrayed as rather sympathetic in Moon Rising. When he asks Moon to find his scroll for him and not to leave him, he is not manipulating her, he is sincerely begging for her help. He is stuck somewhere underground, trapped in darkness, in a space so tiny that he can’t move. He remains that way for months, lonely and sad. If you just focus on these aspects, it’s easy to understand why he has so many fans who want him to see healthy and happy.
On the flipside, while he is dedicated to the happiness of his friends, he doesn’t always go for the most ethical way to achieve it. He tries to brainwash said friends without their consent whenever they exhibit behaviors he doesn’t like, or when he thinks he knows better and wants to “fix” them. He has very little regard for other people’s autonomy, lies to his loved ones with alarming frequency, and is unhealthily attached to the idea of power. Those things are certainly not good, but they are his character flaws. These are his demons; everyone has them and they make him a person. If this was all there was to it, he might still be a villain, but I’d argue he’d not be wholly irredeemable.
But there are things about him that take him beyond the pale. Things that go beyond the realm of just being misunderstood, or easily excusable.
He is possessive. He wants Clearsight and Fathom for himself, and for them to listen to him primarily. When Indigo makes it clear she doesn’t like him and cautions Fathom against trusting him, he deceives his friends and traps Indigo in a wood carving, just so he can isolate Fathom from his support network and manipulate him easier. He alters Clearsight’s mind to make her more agreeable and stop her from holding him accountable for his actions; while he thinks he loves her, he only loves an idealized version of her that is wholly devoted to and unquestioning of him. This is why, when he later forcibly overwrites Fierceteeth’s existence to recreate her (which is another horrific thing), he tries to excise the parts he finds undesirable to create a perfect version of his lover. But this caricature he has created in his head is not and can never be Clearsight, which frustrates his attempts.
He is vengeful. Not against people who have actually wronged him, like Queen Diamond. That would be questionable, but understandable. What makes this unacceptable is his frequent targeting of innocent people who just happen to be related to the person who wronged him in some esoteric way. He enchants a secret murder knife that kills random Icewings regardless of who they are or what they think about the Queen, just because the one who took his mother from him happened to share their tribe. He hates Turtle and wishes death upon him in Moon Rising just because he is a green Seawing, like Fathom was. And then there is the big one: He tries to kill all the Icewings who are alive in the present day, where Queen Diamond is long dead and none of them have ever even met her. Even his mother, who suffered from Diamond’s actions the most and has the most reason to hate her, is horrified and calls him out on that one.
And lastly, he is sadistic. He revels in torturing those he hates. He forces his father to disembowel himself, while the latter is fully aware and powerless to resist AND the man’s traumatized daughter is watching. Later he sends a magical plague to kill every single living Icewing sans one.
It should be noted that Darkstalker possesses virtually infinite magical power; whatever he declares, with very few exceptions, will happen. Even if he wanted them dead, he had the power to prevent unnecessary suffering. He could have said “Arctic, fall dead instantaneously”, or “Every Icewing will fall asleep and pass away peacefully,” but he didn’t. He wanted them to feel pain and pass away in the most wretched, agonizing ways he could imagine.
So what he chose to do instead is—and I want you to picture this for a moment—Darkstalker sat down, calmly, and said “Henceforth every living Icewing, excepting Prince Winter and those of hybrid blood, will fall ill with an incurable disease. This disease will cause heavy internal bleeding and make its victims cough up blood and waste away for a few days, followed by certain death.”
This spell does not discriminate with regards to who its victims are. The book glosses over the implications, but imagine the ramifications. Young children are notoriously frail, how many newborns got infected and died because of this? How many families were torn apart because they couldn’t get the magic earrings fast enough? Or accidentally got one earring less than there were family members and had to decide who has to die?
Most of the Icewings were physically cured by the earrings, but an experience like that sticks with you for the rest of your life. Somewhere surely, a dragonet watched as his mother put the earring on him and then slowly wasted away because she didn’t have one for herself.
It’s really easy to overlook how horrific this spell is because it isn’t shown or dwelt on. But the trauma, grief, and suffering it caused must have been immeasurable.
And none of those victims have ever even met the person Darkstalker wanted to get revenge on. None of those deaths meant anything to anyone.
The attempted death toll and scale of the calamity here puts even Scarlet to shame. The ones who come closest to it were Queen Battlewinner and Morrowseer with their attempted Rainwing extermination. All three of those died for what they did. Gives you some food for thought for sure.
Peacemaker’s burden
Despite just airing all of his dirty laundry and declaring him an irredeemable villain, I actually do have a lot of sympathy for Darkstalker still. His story is really sad. He was a child born with an amount of power that nobody should possess, and it corrupted him to the point where it destroyed his life before it began. His parents were always fighting and no matter how good his intentions were, he was unable to understand why he couldn’t hold on to his friends and relationship. He kept making mistakes, then made bigger mistakes to fix those, until his hands were covered in blood and he couldn’t stop anymore. My belief is that, after he wakes up in the present and realizes Clearsight is dead, he loses his reason for living and becomes completely lost in his grief.
Therefore, my opinion is that it would have been appropriate for him to die. If not to punish him, then to finally grant him reprieve from all that rage and pain, and let him rest. I think that would have been a dignified end.
But instead he got turned into a baby. ... And then they decided to magically erase his father’s blood from him? I don’t know what it is, but something about that Icewing erasure makes my skin crawl?
The thing that turns this baby twist from weird into highly unsettling is the context. Darkstalker’s mind is erased, then modified into a new person via animus magic. This is the technique a lot of this arc’s villains used to victimize Hailstorm, Queen Ruby, Peril, Kinkajou, Fierceteeth, and Winter. The same technique is now used again, by the heroes, which is a dangerous thing to have your protagonists do if you want them to remain morally upright.
It is also very reckless, because in almost all of these instances, animus mind alteration has been shown to be very unreliable. The spells seem to wear down over time and are susceptible to partial breaking upon encountering certain strong stimuli. Hailstorm—while trapped as Pyrite—seems to retain trace amounts of his former memories, which is why Pyrite is subconsciously drawn to Winter and clings to him all the time. Ruby is able to ignore half of her conditioning because her familial love for her son partially overpowers the magic. Qibli is just straight up able to reason his way out of it.
The thing to note here is that spells of this nature require a very meticulous approach; you can’t half-ass your reprogramming or the victim will just think their way past it. If you alter someone’s mind, the wording of the spell must be ironclad, lest you risk it wearing down over time and even break.
Luckily we have nothing to fear in that regard, because the spell that created Peacemaker was written by a Rainwing with a total of four days of literacy training. No one better mention the name Clearsight to the new baby Nightwing, or next month is going to be rather interesting.
But that’s just speculation on my part. Let’s assume that, somehow, this spell isn’t as unstable as all the others. Somehow Kinkajou threaded all the needles, and masterfully dodged every conceivable pitfall to pen the perfect incantation, despite having been illiterate just a few weeks prior. This one is built to last and Darkstalker is sealed away really thoroughly, for good.
That is still absolutely terrible and morally dubious, because now you have Peacemaker, who for all intents and purposes is a COMPLETELY innocent little kid, saddled with this huge burden of being the certifiable reincarnation of a genocidal ancient wizard. He’s gonna grow up thinking things like “Mommy gets real quiet whenever the topic of the Icewing tragedy is brought up,” and “Why does Auntie Moon look at me like that? One time she accidentally called me a weird name, who is Darkstalker?” “What is this ‘Clearsight’ name my mind-reading friends from the village found in Mommy’s mind?”
In a village that will be full of mind-readers soon, eventually the secret will come out, and Peacemaker is going to learn what was done to him. A huge, messy load of undeserved baggage was forced onto this completely separate, innocent entity. He will be devastated. Whether he then chooses to forgive them for this remains to be seen. To be honest, he would be well within his right not to, and turn resentful.
Poor kid.
Qibli’s callousness
I love Qibli, he is one of my favorite characters. This happens to be his book, and the fact that I fundamentally dislike half of it makes me rather sad. If anything, I hope this tells you that I’m not just hating on it for my personal amusement. I really wanted to like this. I tried to, and I couldn’t.
Qibli is really weird in this one, to be honest. He is suddenly made to be co-dependent on Moonwatcher, fawning over her every third paragraph, saying how much he loves her, how he is an incomplete and dysfunctional wreck without her, how it physically pains him to be apart from her, oh if only the stars would grant his wish and split the mountains apart so that he may fly to his princess, his muse, his goddess of ebony wit. It gets so old.
And it’s not Qibli. He never acted this clingy towards Moonwatcher. It’s more intense than even Winter gets about Moon, and Winter was actually depicted with a crush on her in book 6. Qibli was always just a supportive element, eager to befriend Moon but never desperate, like he is going to keel over if he is separated from his true love five minutes longer. These very frequent love declarations feel so forced coming out of him. It strikes me like it was just written in service of the love triangle. Maybe if we make him confess his love every four seconds readers will overlook the fact that they had no proper romantic build-up.
You might rightly accuse me of bias. I have previously admitted I am fond of Qibli/Winter as a romantic pairing, on the surface this seems like I am just not happy with my pet ship being blocked by Moonwatcher. But I assure you, I am actually pretty flexible and accommodating even towards pairings that contradict my preferences. I have no issues with Winter/Moonwatcher, for example, because the possibility was properly established and they have good romantic chemistry in Winter Turning. In theory, I would have no problem with Qibli/Moonwatcher either if it was ever set up as an interesting romantic dynamic. But to me, it seems like Qibli is written as a good, supportive friend to Moon for four books, only to pivot hard into “Moon moon moon moon moon moon swoon” at the last second, and it just reads to me as obnoxious.
I got distracted. This section is called “Qibli’s callousness”, and I haven’t even talked about the main part.
Qibli and Winter have excellent chemstry together, whether you read it as romantic or platonic—both of these interpretations have merit and are set up. They’re always the highlight of any scene they’re in. Throughout the story arc you get the impression that these two really get on each other’s nerves, but they bond and grow into really strong friends who bicker a lot but have each other’s backs when it counts.
Then there is a scene where Qibli casually tells Winter that he wouldn’t object if someone wanted to mind-control away some of Winter’s more objectionable traits.
This is genuinely a terrible thing to say to your friend. Like, it crosses a line and ceases to be harmless banter; you’re just telling them that there is something you hate about them so much that you wish they were someone else. Winter actually WAS mind-controlled earlier and felt (and proably still feels) guilty about having attacked Qibli in that state. And now Qibli says “Hey, I wouldn’t mind if someone did that to you again! Hue hue!”
It is awful, BUT I don’t necessarily object to Qibli saying this here. Qibli is in the middle of his character arc at this moment, so he is expected to be flawed. He is making a mistake by thoughtlessly telling Winter this horrid thing, and it seems like a believable continuation of his current character track. This is a reasonable development as long as the plot acknowledges that it’s a mistake.
Spoilers: The plot doesn’t acknowledge that it’s a mistake. Qibli never has a scene after where he reflects upon what he said and apologizes to Winter. When Darkstalker has Qibli trapped in his mountain jail and mind-wipes Qibli’s grandfather into a toddler (hey, wait a minute), Qibli gets visibly disturbed. Like, this is so off-putting to him that he gets queasy and Darkstalker hastily changes the spell. That could have been a great way to bring this back. Like in the epilogue, have Qibli track down Winter and tell him about disturbing baby grandpa theater and how he realized that wiping people’s minds is actually messed up and should have never said that to him.
But he doesn’t. He just lets Winter go, allowing him to believe he is broken and needs magical intervention to be tolerable. It leaves me to think that maybe he’s still okay with it, and fantasizing about rewriting his friend’s mind. Great.
Moonwatcher’s character death
You will find as this goes on that, I get the impression that the second half of this book takes all of the wonderful, endearing characters I have learned to love throughout the story and replaces them with really mean, or stupid, or otherwise inaccurate caricatures.
Moonwatcher’s relationship with Darkstalker gets plenty of setup and development in Moon Rising. You get the sense that these two could be great friends if their circumstances were a little different. It does a great job at making you think maybe Darkstalker is just misunderstood; maybe Moon should free him from his predicament.
Then at the end of Escaping Peril comes the emotional gut punch. Darkstalker actually IS a villain. He callously admits to Moonwatcher that he used his magic to make his own father gruesomely disembowel himself. Moonwatcher is horrified and disgusted that he would do that. There is no circumstance in which something like that would ever be okay. She ends the scene awash in tears because the person she thought was her friend is a murderer and a sadist. This is good, that is a natural reaction to what she was just told.
A few hours from there, in Talons of Power, Turtle finds Moon again and she is completely cool with Darkstalker walking free, despite crying her eyes out after feeling so betrayed earlier. That may seem strange, but this is still good because later, Darkstalker’s mind control plot is discovered. This scene was obviously written to set that up, Moon is mind-controlled into forgetting that Darkstalker could do something that morally reprehensible, and thus forgives him. This is also completely in line with his characterization in Legends: Darkstalker. It’s a kind of stunt he would pull to get Clearsight to shut up about him slipping into villainy.
In my earlier post I alluded to a moment where Moon is set to narrative auto-pilot and says something so rampantly off-kilter that it does irreversible, permanent damage to her character. It happens here, in the second half of book 10. Qibli gives Moon the Darkstalker protection earring, and Moon, somehow, says “I’m not being mind-controlled, Darkstalker really is my friend.”
I get what the plot tries to do here. It’s taking this concept of mind-control and adding a nuance, in an attempt to flesh out Darkstalker and give his character depth. He is ready to control everyone in the world, but for Moon, who is his best friend in this era, he wants her to remain herself. Perhaps this is his attempt at attonement for playing with Clearsight’s mind and driving her away from him. It is very touching in a way, viewed in isolation.
Unfortunately, it does not work with the full context of all the books. Because Moon is in auto-pilot mode right now, her main character trait is “Darkstalker=Friend,” so naturally she would speak in support of him. But this revelation has devastating retroactive consequences. The earlier scene that was written with Moon under mind-control is now altered into her having been in her right mind! She is completely okay with Darkstalker’s admittance to cold-blooded torture and evisceration, within hours of being so shocked by it that it made her cry and ready to denounce him. That is such a quick turnaround it’s giving me whiplash. And what’s more it turns Moon from a principled, upstanding girl into a sociopath who casually accepts gruesome torture and murder if it is committed by someone she likes.
Did Sutherland forget about the scene two books ago, where Darkstalker’s actions were so inconceivably horrid for Moon to learn of that she started crying? It baffles me that this made it into the final version. Her saying she was never mind-controlled makes Moon come off as so awful. This torture-excusing lunatic is not the same kind-hearted and insightful character I followed in all the other books.
Kinkajou’s character derailment
The world is a sad place when I have to question the way Kinjajou is written. Fortunately she is mostly fine, despite her having the biggest excuse to act out-of-character since she’s the victim of a mind-altering spell. Her only real moment of “what!?” comes at the end.
I already talked about her role in casting the spell that regresses Darkstalker into an infant. But I didn’t mention how her being the source of it is questionable in itself.
The clue is in the first paragraph of this section: She herself has experienced the effects of invasive mind-alteration. She was cursed by Anemone in the previous book to be in love with Turtle, and kind of half-struggles kind of not with it, it’s really strange. Turtle is appropriately horrified and acts like really awful things are happening, but then it’s mostly played lightly for some reason. My assumption is that Sutherland introduced this plot point, but then realized how uncomfortable this premise really is and tried to downplay it until the story got to a point where it could get done away with.
But I think the takeaway is still supposed to be that this was a horrid thing to do (which it absolutely is), and that Kinkajou will have to spend a lot of time trying to untangle her real emotions from the fake ones the spell created.
The point is: Kinkajou knows first-hand how awful it is to do something like that to another person. Ideally she should never even conceive of the idea to cast a spell like that, but if we’re really set on this Darkstalker baby thing and it has to happen, she should at least be a bit hesitant about it. And afterwards she should struggle with the guilt of having resorted to it. Not celebrate it and be proud, like it’s funny.
The assassination of Winter’s future
Now we come to the part I’ve alluded to previously; the part where all of these threads converge to utterly destroy one character and drive him to the brink of ruin. Let’s talk about Winter.
Prince Winter is the son of Tundra and Prince Narwhal, hatching in the same clutch as his sister Icicle. He spent his formative years being unfavorably compared to said sister—who easily took to traits that Icewing royalty considers desirable—whereas Winter struggled greatly to embody those same ideals. He was just a little too kind, too merciful, too gentle. As a result he often had to endure abuse from his parents, who made him feel like he was defective.
Because he was young and didn’t have any other frame of reference, he embraced this abusive narrative and began to drive himself with a vigor unreasonable for someone of his age. He scraped and cloyed for every bit of credit he could get, obsessing over advancing up the circle rankings in an attempt to “purge” the wrongness out of himself. To make his parents as proud of him as they were of Icicle.
This never worked. He was always seen as the runt, poised to embarrass the family name. Whatever he did, no matter how hard he strived, there was always something he could have done better.
The only real source of love and affirmation in his life was his older brother, Hailstorm. Where everyone else only saw what Winter wasn’t, Hailstorm embraced his brother despite of his “failings” and was openly affectionate with him. When Winter was with him, it was okay to not think about rankings all the time, and just be himself for a bit. I assume Hailstorm fulfilled a similar role for Icicle as well, which is why both of them love him dearly, and Icicle destroys her own life to bring him back.
Winter also has a fascination with scavengers, possibly because they are small and perceived as useless, like he himself is. He likely feels a kinship with them and observes them being craftier and more adept than everyone else sees them. This is therapeutic for him, to see that a thing can have merit even if no one wants to see it.
One day, he and Hailstorm sneak into Skywing territory so Winter can catch a scavenger as a pet. This excursion turns hostile when they are discovered by a roaming Skywing troop and faced with the prospect of capture, possibly execution. In a gambit to save Winter from this fate, Hailstorm mirrors the words of his parents, calling Winter pathetic and useless, so the Skywings will not think of him as a threat and show mercy. His act succeeds in convincing the Skywings, but it also convinces Winter, who does not understand Hailstorm only said these things to save his life. He returns home—believing his brother hated him all along—to face the wrath of his furious family for losing them “the desirable son”.
For all of his life, these themes have repeated themselves and haunted him. “I was born wrong and defective,” “I am unlovable,” “No one wants me.”
A few months after the war ends, Winter is one of the five Icewings enrolled in the newly founded Jade Mountain Academy. Shortly after departing, he unexpectedly returns home, having successfully rescued his older brother and bringing him back. He is made to believe that this erases his mistakes, his mother even pays him a backhanded compliment, an uncharacteristically “nice” gesture. He is promoted to the top of the rankings, finally his parents are proud of him.
But of course it is all a trick. The “adoration” afforded to him was all a ploy. Secretly, his parents abused power and tradition to arrange for Winter’s death. They force him into a lethal trial they intentionally rigged against him, all to finally erase that stain on their family’s honor.
Winter finally realizes the true nature of his parents’ opinion of him. Even when he succeeds, and does everything right, he is still defective, unlovable, and unwanted. He will never be anything else to his family. And so he leaves his homeland, pretending he is dead, resigned to live in hiding forever.
During this time, while at the brink of despair, Winter is able to draw strength from one source: His new friends from the academy. He vocalizes that, for all the abuse he suffered at the hands of his birth family, he fervently believes that THEY would never do anything like that to him. They chose to stuck with him, even when he was awful, and told him he was not hopeless. He was not a mistake; he could be deserving of love.
So naturally, he returns to them; they accept him readily, are willing to be his new surrogate family. When he almost burns to death at a later point, they fear and weep for him. When Qibli sets out to confront his own abusive family, Winter, despite being mind-controlled into a placid potato at the time, feels concerned enough for his friend’s safety to insist to come along (returning the favor of them accompanying him in his time of need in book 7). When Darkstalker’s mind control forces Winter to attack Qibli, he is shown ashamed and guilty of it once the control wears off again.
They bicker and struggle, and make mistakes, they break up but always come back together again. Time and time again the one thing that is always reinforced: When the cards are down, Winter loves his friends, and they love him. They would never intentionally hurt each other, or give up on each other.
I want you to keep in mind how wholesome, and loving, and mutually supportive this ramshackle band of misfits has been portrayed to this point... Because we’re moving on to the arc 2 finale, and it will do everything it can to corrupt all of it and consign Winter to a life of misery.
We arrive at aforementioned scene, where Moonwatcher receives her earring. Just a little bit prior, Winter had learned that Darkstalker unleashed a magical plague onto his people in an attempt to wipe them out. Now here is Moonwatcher, revealing that she is not under any spell, and has aligned herself with this guy willingly, speaking fondly of him as if he was a dear friend who never did any wrong. Winter takes this badly and accidentally breaks a vase; the narrative lingers on this moment and really tries to sell us on how unreasonable Winter’s reaction is, how he is overreacting, but let’s examine that interpretation for a moment.
Moonwatcher doesn’t yet know about the attempted Icewing genocide, but she DOES know about Darkstalker being okay with casting spells to inflict immeasurable torture upon those he hates. WE know that she knows this, so her stance here is already suspect. Yet she goes on to praise Darkstalker and refer to him as a friend. Look at this from Winter’s perspective. This “friend” of Moonwatcher just tried to kill his entire tribe, and he actually succeeded in killing his aunt, Queen Glacier, a person Winter greatly respects. Winter is currently unable to return to his homeland for fear of being branded a traitor. Even if he could return, he knows his obstinate and spiteful family would prevent him from attending the funeral, meaning he is not even afforded the basic dignity of saying farewell to his aunt. The aunt whom Darkstalker murdered by making her vomit her own blood until she withered away in her bed. And here is Moon, absolving the person who did this to Glacier from his appalling actions, despite knowing full well what Darkstalker is capable of and choosing to look away.
I don’t know about you, but I think I can forgive the grieving, emotionally overwhelmed boy for shattering a little pottery after hearing his trusted friend—who held his hand when he was dying—say that the guy who makes people disembowel themselves and wipes out entire countries may be misunderstood and not so bad. I think I would have a similar reaction. In fact, I would never want to talk to her ever again.
There is no way I can read this scene in which Moon doesn’t come off as either an absolute lunatic, or critically stupid and callous. In fact, based on her earlier behavior I half-expect her to get over the news of the attempted Icewing massacre in a couple hours, saying “Eh, it’s kinda bad, but you just have to do these kinds of things sometimes, you know? I’m sure he had his reasons.”
Then there is the part where Qibli makes his off-color comment about how Winter’s brain could really use a good wash. I already went into how it could have worked but didn’t. But with the timing here, we’ve already had Moon spit on their friendship, so as Winter’s other closest friend, it naturally follows that Qibli also craps on his feelings.
Consider the context: Winter comes from an abusive household where his parents forcibly tried to change him away from who he was to purge the “wrongness” from him. When they betray him and he narrowly escapes their attempt on his life, he re-affirms his belief in his friends, and the knowledge that they wouldn’t treat him like that gives him the strength he needs to keep going. But now, Qibli asserts that Winter DOES need to be altered, thereby AGREEING with Winter’s abusive parents, rendering Winter’s affirmation from book 7 erroneous. Qibli WOULD treat him like that if it made Winter less “intolerable”.
Neither Moonwatcher nor Qibli ever make an attempt to repair this rift. Winter is left betrayed and alone.
Stuff happens, and the forces of the Nightwings and Icewings come to blows over Jade Mountain. With his two closest friends having written him off and his support network eroded, Winter relapses into thinking he is worthless, seeks validation in unquestioning patriotism, and realigns himself with his abusive family by throwing himself into the battle. Nobody wants him to, in fact his parents still hate him for it, but whatever. His father dies and his mother blames him for it.
Meanwhile Turtle, Anemone, and Qibli are cooking up a solution to the battle problem. They have the idea to make everyone’s minds connect in a huge empathy wave for a few moments, which I think is a pretty interesting idea for what it’s worth. But then they teleport both armies back to their homes, and the spell sweeps Winter up with them, taking him out of the rest of the finale and bringing him to the Ice Kingdom. The characters say “whoops” but aren’t further concerned with the situation. It’s all a big laugh.
Let me remind you that Winter is currently considered not welcome on Icewing territory. His family, whom he was sent back with, is extremely abusive and vindictive. His friends know this. Said parents have previously arranged for him to be killed, and are still on record as wanting him dead. His friends KNOW this. And now he is alone with them and a gaggle of other royal Icewings who all are extremely pissed off at him for ruining their sacred trial site.
It is very possible that he is being torn apart and mauled by an enraged mob right now. He could be forced into captivity and flayed. Maybe the interim regent is sentencing him to death and getting the rope ready. There is a million different horrible things that could be happening to Winter right now, while he is trapped alone with people who hate him, things his friends would be reasonably able to anticipate. And nobody is doing anything to get him out of there, to suggest bringing him back, even though it would only take a single spoken sentence to do so! They aren’t even concerned!
Then the climax happens, strawberry thing and all, and we get the coup de grâce. After all is said and done, the group decides that Winter is untrustworthy, and that they must protect the secret of Darkstalker’s fate from him, because they fear if he knew he would kill Peacemaker.
Moon, who read Winter’s mind in book 6 and reached out to him about how the “ruthless Icewing warrior” persona in his head is a facade and how she sees he has a gentle and good heart... Moon, who in book 7 finds out about Winter’s secret deal to kill Glory and STILL trusts him, who calls out his bullshit to his face because she KNOWS how kind-hearted Winter is and that he would never resort to murder... Moon who, again, held his hand while he was dying... thinks that the dragon she has reminded of his compassionate nature time and time again would kill an innocent child.
This is disgusting. Moon believing that is so far off the mark with regards to anything this group has embodied or done for any of the last 4 books, that my only conclusion can be that these are different characters. Maybe the Nightwing library collapsed on top of original Moon, and when Darkstalker magiced her back to health she came back wrong or something. I don’t know.
So after all of this, Winter is left alone. He somehow escaped from the Ice Kingdom; luckily there is a timeskip so we can just gloss over the horrible situation he was put in by his friends. He thinks about Jade Mountain. He reflects on everything that happened, how his parents never really loved him... How they hated him so much they tried to kill him... How he despaired, but found solace in his friends who loved him for who he was.... How those friends then betrayed him too and magiced him away... How they didn’t care about what happened to him... And he decides he is done. He won’t bother going back. A few people, probably Sunny, reach out to tell him he is welcome back, but he says “it wouldn’t be fair to other Icewings if an exile took up a bed”. The decision isn’t hard to make, after all there is nothing left for him there. Everyone has written him off, moved on and left him behind.
Kinkajou visits sometimes, tries to stay in touch, but that’s just how she is. Maybe the others sent her to check on whether he’s going to become troublesome. They don’t trust him. Better to keep an eye on him, he might kill the baby.
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With nowhere else to go, Winter moves to Sanctuary, a place for rejects like him. I picture him standing there, at the edge of a cliff staring blankly into the distance. He is completely alone; no one wants to go near him or talk to him beyond the bare necessities. He could probably make new friends with the Talons of Peace if he tried, but there is no point. Why should someone like him have friends? It wouldn’t work. They’d just decide he is too inconvenient to be around. Sooner or later they would just tell him to leave anyway. It's better not to try, so he doesn't get hurt again.
And slowly it dawns on him. His parents had been right all along. It was never them, or the others, it was him. He is the problem. The Icewings said it, Qibli said it, Moonwatcher said it. There is just something fundamentally wrong with him.
He is defective. He is unlovable. Nobody wants him. He will never be anything, or have anyone. And so he stands at the cliff, looking over the broken vase fragments of his life... This is who he is. Prince Winter. A mistake.
And quietly, where no one knows or cares, he does the only thing he has left to do... he begins to weep.
As it is written, the tale of Winter is the story of a boy who is told he is wrong for being alive. He closes his ears and tries to keep walking forward, desperate to prove that he is not an error, that he has merit. But this book comes out and it unmistakably says that he doesn’t. He is nothing, and he deserves to have nothing.
And I just cannot accept that.
Why did this have to happen?
I think that the author was really struggling with the ending of this book. I’ve said before how much of a corner she wrote herself into with such an invincible villain. I think she came up with the strawberry idea as a solution to this problem. But as she was writing it, the characters kept fighting her. It was not a natural solution, not a decision the characters—as they were established—would ever make.
So concessions had to be made to force the issue. Established traits had to be bent slightly to make this plot work. The farther she went, the worse it got. The concessions piled up and turned into contrivances. Eventually the characters were no longer acting like themselves. Their bonds got stretched too far and some snapped. It’s a very tragic pitfall that occurs with long-running series.
I think Sutherland must have also been tired. Writing an entire book is a monumental task, and writing 6 connected ones even moreso. She also comes out with these things really quickly. Maybe she was burnt out? Maybe she wanted to be done and her attention lapsed. Maybe that’s why she forgot that Moon knew about the disemboweling. It seems reasonable to believe when you consider that the next story arc would make a relatively clean break from the problems of this arc, especially with regards to the magic system.
But I don’t know what ultimately happened, so I can only speculate. I reiterate, I bear no ill will against Sutherland for writing this. Even if I kind of hate everything about this finale, and very vocally wish it would be different, I don’t want this examination to generate (or reawaken) any hatred towards her, or to attack her personally. I understand the pain of an artist who gets trapped with something for too long and has to find the means, any means, to see it through to the end. I criticize the story, but I could never hate anyone for that.
But for me, I do not consider this half of the book as part of the story. The characters act too unnaturally for it to have happened. So to me, it didn’t. We don’t know what happened, maybe Darkstalker is still out there. Maybe they dealt with him. Maybe what actually happened is my crappy and self-indulgent rewrite of the ending which I will never show to anyone because it would be really embarrassing.
But whatever actually ended up happening, I am sure Winter never ended up at that cliff, pondering how worthless and meaningless his life was. He is currently at Jade Mountain, surrounded by friends who love him, and bickering with Qibli about the correct solution to their advanced calculus assignment that is due tomorrow.
Is there anything left to say?
Probably.
I didn’t talk about Anemone yet. You know, in the epilogue she enchants herself a bracelet that makes her “not be so mean all the time”. I find that creepy. To me it reads as Anemone voluntarily brainwashing herself with magic to erase her negative traits instead of growing past them naturally because she finds them undesirable and wants to work to change for the better. I would ordinarily assume that this is an overreaction on my part, and I’m just reading the scene wrong. But no, we just got through a part where the heroes brainwashing someone is treated as an unequivocal good and worthy of celebration, so I think my reading may actually be spot on. Why are we letting the little kid alter her own brain without supervision? Hello? Tsunami? Someone intervene maybe? This cannot be healthy.
Turtle stands out to me as the one bright spot in all of this. He (and Peril, but she’s mostly out of focus) remain as the only main characters of this arc who don’t have any mind-boggling out-of-character moments or sudden streaks of uncharacteristic callousness. I really like the part where Qibli goes to free Turtle from his captivity and plans to give him an earful about the comically unhelpful messages he’s been sending him. But when Turtle asks if what he did was helpful, Qibli sees how beaten down and exhausted Turtle is, and wordlessly drops his frustration to tell him “Yeah, they were helpful.” That is the true Qibli shining through for a moment, showing that he cares about the well-being of his friends.
Do I hate the pairing of Qibli/Moonwatcher? No. Well, I DO hate how it happened in the book, and how the story tried to assassinate Winter’s character to resolve the love triangle and make it happen. I don’t hate it on principle though. If you are a fan of Qibli/Moonwatcher and want to write fanfics about it, please do! I absolutely encourage you to do that! Maybe you can fix this mess and turn it into something that’s actually properly handled!
Mightyclaws keeps the power that Darkstalker granted him past the finale. That means all the spells that Darkstalker cast are technically still active. Does that mean the Icewings have to wear earrings for the rest of their lives? Do they get sick again if they take them off? Is Peril forever cursed to think of Darkstalker as a cool old uncle and has to somehow reconcile how everyone else thinks of him? How did the Nightwings relinquishing their powers work, do they have to wear the earrings forever too now?
And there is one more thing to mention.
My confession
You may have already intuited this, if you’ve been following the content of my blog. It is very heavily skewed towards the first and second arcs of the series. I would now like to confess something.
When I read the second half of book 10, I found it so disillusioning, Winter’s fate so upsetting... that I put down the series then and there. And I haven’t picked it back up since.
That’s right, I have not read arc 3. I don’t know if that makes me a fake fan. I know pretty much everything that happens in it, the controversial twist at the end, Pyrrhia coming back into the story later, Snowfall getting brainwashed by a piece of jewelry until she cares about a plot that had nothing to do with her or the fate of the Icewings, etc..
It’s not out of malice, or because it’s a new continent. The opposite in fact; I would have greatly prefered a clean break with a new setting—Bug-themed dragons in a slightly more contemporary, developed environment sounds fascinating and full of potential. I don’t hate Pantala or the new characters.
I just... I can’t really do this again. I can’t handle the thought of Pyrrhia coming back post-Darkstalker, with Winter showing up and talking to these guys again like nothing happened, seeming like a different person, joking around with them like his entire character wasn’t dragged through a mountain of manure to make the plot bend a certain way. I think as long as this is the ending that the story is continuing from, seeing that would just make me miserable.
Maybe I will just stay in the parts of the story that I fell in love with. And imagine a version of reality in which Pantala is allowed to exist on its own, where Swordtail was the fourth POV character of arc 3, where Queen Wasp stayed the villain throughout, and Snowfall got her own legends book about how she reformed Icewing society and fixed all the shit that poisoned Winter’s life, so future generations don’t have to suffer through the same stuff he did.
~~~~~
If you’re still with me, thank you for reading this far. I think this is everything I ever thought about the finale of the second story arc, so now I never have to talk about it again. Writing this was difficult. I found it crushing at times. This will probably stand as the only overtly negative post I have ever made on this blog. I love Wings of Fire, and I want to celebrate it. To add to it, not tear it down.
I hope this wasn’t too boring, or painful, or frustrating, or soul-crushing to read through. I’ll see you later, hopefully with a more constructive post.
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pomefioredove · 2 days
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hii! i love your writing a lot! and its my first time requesting something so im sorry if it sounds weird.
could i request a reader who loves to give their friend or partner lots gifts(preferably handmade ones!!) and affection? like they just make gifts for them and randomly shower them with affection without any reason
please do it with the overblot gang or simply just riddle, azul and vil !!
also im sorry if you already did something like that ; ;
hi anon!! thank you for waiting so patiently for this <3
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ gifting!
type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, azul, vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu
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pleasant surprise is not something that Riddle feels often, and gifts, especially such thoughtful ones, are not something he's used to. his mother never bought him anything that wasn't a necessity, and aside from what little Trey and Che'nya could sneak to him when they were children, Riddle just... doesn't get gifts
especially without a reason. the first time you leave a love note and roses at his desk, he's worried that he somehow forgot something- a birthday, a holiday, an anniversary?
you have to reassure him that you don't need a reason to be nice to him, and he deserves to be spoiled
which is... weird... for him to hear
still, he treasures every single thing you get him. trinkets go on a well-kept shelf in his room, practical gifts get used until they're falling apart, and he even presses the flowers you give so he can keep them forever
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Azul lives in a give-and-take world. which is often... bad, but can be extraordinarily sweet when he applies that to your relationship
he wakes up to flowers on his doorstep? you'll be getting a bouquet the very next day. you write him a lovely note? he'll send one of his own right back. you make him something thoughtful, personal, and sweet? he will literally teach himself how to sew, paint, write, et cetera, and get you something you'll love by next week
(your crafting skills are incredible to him, by the way)
it's not even that he doesn't want to "owe you" anything; it's that he wants you to feel just as loved and special as you make him feel
he's never a neglectful boyfriend, I can tell you that much
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
there's something that can be so special about handmade gifts. Vil thinks of this often; he finds himself absolutely in love with everything you give him. he almost feels guilty wearing the jewelry or clothing you make, as if it should be put on display rather than worn
it's just so... you know?
you thought of him while you made this. you sat down, thought, "what would Vil like?" and made something. not because he hired you to, or because you want fame or money or success, but because you love him
as a person. not as an actor, or a model, or an image
oof. it's like an arrow straight through his heart. he loves to carry around the things you gift him, just so someone will notice and ask
he always gets the biggest smile telling them that his partner made it
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duckymcdoorknob · 3 days
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How your first sleepover with Genshin Men went
Fair warning, this is pure crack. No over-exaggerated fluff or cute stuff, just as real as sleeping beside another person can get!
Leave characters and ideas in the comments for part two !
Feat. Kaeya, Kaveh, Itto, Kazuha, and Diluc.
(Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five)
Taglist: @ticklish-n-stuff @elysianavenue @chrimsss @switch-writer @giggly-squiggily
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You stared at your boyfriend lovingly as he cleaned up from the simple dinner date you had just shared. How lucky you were to have ended up with such a wonderful man like him… Lost in your own thoughts, you fail to miss the sudden pattering against the rooftop of his home.
He sighs and listens intently to the area outside before coming to a conclusion: it was way too heavily raining for you to go out there. When you blinked back to reality, you saw your lover knelt in front of you, wiping his hands with a towel.
“(Y/N), love, it’s really coming down out there… would you be okay to stay a little longer so it can calm down?”
“Hmm- what? What?-“ his words took a bit to process “I suppose…”
The rain failed to calm down, it only seemed to roar more severely. You sighed longingly as you looked out the window. You heard a gentle chuckle and felt a hand on your shoulder. “Follow me, let’s start getting ready for bed.”
You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean, follow you?”
“You’re my partner,” he answered. “There’s no way I’d ever let you sleep anywhere else than my bed.
You sighed and obeyed, completing as much of your nightly routine that you can (all while wearing pajamas that definitely aren’t yours). You settled into bed next to him, immediately being wrapped in his arms.
You settled with a smile, closing your eyes and cuddling close…
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Kaeya: The Revolving Door
After a few short minutes of relaxation, you felt your boyfriend squirm beneath you. Within an instant, Kaeya had muttered something and gently slipped out of bed, carefully placing you on the fluffy mattress.
“What’s wrong, honey?” You asked, still fully alert.
“Bathroom light,” He answered as he stepped back toward the bed.
He settled back down, then after a little maneuvering, it was like he never left.
You both closed your eyes once more, attempting to rest.
Fifteen minutes later, you were about to fall completely asleep. That is, until you felt yourself being moved again.
Your lover ever so carefully moved you off of him, retreating to the restroom once more. You groaned and opened your eyes. “Kaeya?”
“I fr-go- bru-h- eef-“ the distorted response was undoubtedly from a toothbrush in his mouth.. you couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at him as you waited for him to return.
And as he had done previously, Kaeya returned to bed and settled down with a content sigh.
Perfect, now the two of you can-
“Wait,” your boyfriend groaned. “Light.”
You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Go.”
Finally, the light was off, and Kaeya was in bed. You curled up against his chest and sighed with a smile. “Goodnight, love, ” you hummed as you closed your eyes.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he replied, kissing your forehead.
After two minutes, you felt Kaeya squirming again. Though, he didn’t move a muscle, despite the uncontrollable squirming.
“…Darling?” he asked softly.
Barbatos give you strength…
“Yes, my love?”
“I gotta pee.”
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Kaveh: The Acrobat
The room was silent, albeit the gentle hum of a ceiling fan. You felt your consciousness leaving you slowly, and you were close to falling asleep…
Until you were accidentally smacked across the forehead by his hand.
While you were upset from being woken up, you couldn’t help but chuckle as you picked up his wrist to move it from your forehead. You planted a gentle kiss on the back of his hand and placed it down on your cheek.
You could’ve sworn you saw Kaveh’s lips curl upward at the gentle kiss, but it was short lived as he suddenly flipped over onto his other side.
You smacked face-down onto the mattress, barely registering what had happened. You groaned and slowly picked yourself up, rubbing your sore nose. When your eyes landed on the unmoving body of your boyfriend, you rolled your eyes and turned away from him.
You figured there was no sense in attempting to cuddle with him when he was moving so much. You closed your eyes and attempted to fall back asleep. After about five minutes, your eyes got very heavy, and you were near falling asleep.
However, sudden rustling from the other side of the bed made you alert. Before you could register what had happened, you were being pulled back into Kaveh’s arms.
You squeaked but ultimately relaxed, turning around to kiss him on his lips. You both smiled and you rested your head in the crook of his neck.
Finally the two of you were almost both asleep. You could barely keep your eyes open, and were seconds away from falling a totally asleep.
And then, it happened.
And boy did it happen suddenly.
Within seconds, you landed smack-dab on the hardwood floor, having been accidentally kicked in the back.
“AGH- KAVEH!” You yelped, rubbing your sore bottom.
Your boyfriend awoke with a start, looking around frantically. “Honey?! Where are you, what’s the matter?”
You groaned and clawed your way back on the bed, “Nothing… Nothing is the matter,” you replied curtly.
“A-Are you sure? Why were you on the f-“
“I am ten seconds away from taping your limbs to this bed, that’s why,” you spat. You sighed and fell forward onto his chest, wrapping your arms around him. “If you kick me off the bed again, I’m sleeping on the couch, capische?”
Kaveh only nodded fearfully as he kissed the top of your head.
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Itto: The Loose Cannon
You sure did love your darling boyfriend. Life with him was never dull, and nights were… well, interesting to stay the least. He would always get so much more energized during the night, simply bouncing off of the walls.
Well, tonight marked your first sleepover, so he opted for eating spicy ramen with you and watching movies. Halfway through the film, your boyfriend excused himself to the restroom, proudly announcing that he had a battle to fight.
You rolled your eyes. You couldn’t help but smile at the stupid codeword.
By the time he returned, the movie was done, and you were drifting off on the couch. Your eyes flutter open as you smile at him. “Everything come out okay?” You teased.
Itto merely laughed, scooping you up. “Yeah, yeah. It’s beddy time now. Now, come on! Let this big strong oni keep you company!”
You allowed Itto to carry you to his bed, wrapping your arms around him. And that is how you ended up where you are now… caged in his giant arms as he squirms uncomfortably behind you.
“Itto…?” you asked softly. “Is everything-“
“Yeah! Yeah I’m great… just uh…” he trailed off. “Nope! I’m good!”
You sigh, back settling down against his chest, you felt him squirming still, frowning gently. Well, you had to trust your boyfriend. If he said he was okay, you had to believe that-
Your chain of thoughts was interrupted by an almost cartoony-sounding toot echoing in the room. Your eyes snap open, and you push away from your boyfriend, looking at him with disbelief. “Did you-“
“No!”
You begin to giggle. “Oh gods- okay-“ You chuckled despite the smell now filling your nose. Once it subsided, you returned to his arms with a sigh. “Feeling better now?”
Itto nodded against your head, planting a gentle kiss too. He returned to lying comfortably, his own eyes closing along with yours. The two of you are almost asleep when you hear the noise again…
“Itto!” you whined, scooting away from him. “Not again!”
“I’m sorry! It was that ramen, I swear!” The oni whined.
“Well try harder!”
“I can’t help it!”
You groaned loudly and rolled your eyes before returning to cuddle him again. You sighed, damn near falling asleep.
And yet again, that pungent smell filled your nostrils…
“Oh my gods- ITTO!” You yelped, turning away and pinching your nose. “Stoppit!”
Before he could reply, he stood up quickly from the bed, retreating to the bathroom with a hasty shut of the door.
It’s been twenty minutes… no signs of organic life from the bathroom.
You sigh and roll over.
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Kazuha: The Apologist
Kazuha led you to his bedroom by your hand, gesturing for you to get comfortable. You obliged immediately, snuggling into the soft sheets. When you looked back at him, he looked sheepish. “Are you okay, dove? I can sleep on the couch if it’s too awkward-“
“No, no! I apologize… I didn’t intend to make you think something was wrong, I’m just-“ he sighed, looking away. “Do you think… would you be willing to hold onto me as I typically do you?”
You smiled at him softly, holding your arms out. Your lover smiled back at you and instantly settled down in your arms. He sighed in satisfaction as he felt your arms cage around him. As his body relaxed—and boy did it do so fast—a soft ‘oof’ left you. Kazuha immediately lifted his head. “I’m sorry, love. Did I startle you?”
You chuckled again. “No, Kaz’. Just wasn’t expecting it.” You gently rubbed soothing circles on his back, and you felt all of his worries melt away.
Things were going well. The atmosphere was quiet and peaceful. You felt yourself growing tired, but you were soon interrupted by Kazuha reaching up to itch his nose. “M’sorry,” he murmured.
“No need to apologize, my dear…” you gently kissed the top of his head.
More peaceful minutes passed until his leg randomly spasmed, causing you to startle again. “I-I’m sor-“
“Kazuha, honey,” you soothed, “it’s okay. You don’t need to keep apologizing for things you can’t control.”
“Okay, I’m so-“
You gently poked his side to state your point. He startled with a small squeak. Afterward, you gently ran your fingers through his hair, removing it from the ponytail and untangling it. He hummed in satisfaction, relaxing into your arms once more and closing his eyes.
It was a wonderful experience. Your lover finally passed out in your arms and slept for a good hour. As you eventually felt yourself growing more tired, you were startled awake when Kazuha shook violently in your arms with a gasp. He woke up panting, throwing his arms around your neck.
You sat up immediately, coddling him. Your hand returned to his back as you whispered in his ear. “It’s okay, love… I’m right here… I’m here…”
He trembled in your arms, holding you impossibly closer. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he repeated, his voice shaking.
“Hey, hey… sweetheart it’s nothing to apologize about. I’ve got you,” you gently hummed, kissing the top of his head. “I’m right here.”
“These nightmares still plague me… I’m so sorry (Y/N)… I must’ve frightened you.”
“I’m okay, love,” you reassured him.
Kazuha hesitantly settled back in your arms, feeling utterly blissful from the gentle rubbing on his back. He slumped down against you once more, sighing gently as his breaths gently puffed against your neck.
After a while, you both were absolutely exhausted. Kazuha was the one who was still awake as you finally drifted off to sleep. He lay peacefully, listening to your heartbeat slow and slow.
As he was about to fall asleep… his tummy growled loudly, waking you immediately.
“I’m sorry…”
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Diluc: The Furnace
You smiled as you felt Diluc’s strong arms cage around you. His hand immediately found refuge in your hair, gently scratching your scalp and sending chills down your spine.
He continued his actions for a while, and you seemed to in a blissful daze. Little hums of satisfaction left you as well as tiny gasps every so often. Your lover merely grinned, taking solace in knowing he was making you feel relaxed.
You were close to falling asleep when you suddenly felt extremely warm. You start gently panting as you swallow a few times.
“Love? Are you alright?” He asked you in a concerned voice, sitting up.
“Yes, of course,” you hummed in response. You reach over him onto the night stand, grabbing the water he always kept there and positively chugging it. “I think I was just a bit thirsty.”
Diluc chuckled as you lay back down. His hand found itself rubbing gentle circles on your back, the warmth traveling from your shoulders down to your hips. It was soothing, and his hand was wonderfully warm.
After a while, he got the idea to press his hand against your bare skin, having snaked it under the large shirt he had given you.
You shivered from the sudden change in temperature, but Diluc continued anyways. He looked down on you lovingly as he saw you relaxing in his hold.
Your lover let his head fall back against the pillow, and he gently closed his eyes. He was near falling asleep when he felt you peel yourself away to grab more of the water.
“(Y/N)?”
You sigh between gulps of water, almost like a toddler drinking some after being outside all day. You put the cup down with a sigh before slumping back on him. “Archons, I must just be dehydrated. Nothing more,” you quickly reassured him.
You settled back into his arms, exhaling as you felt heat engulf your body again. You narrow your eyes in confusion and annoyance.
What could be wrong?
You were watered, fed, and calm. What could possibly be-
As Diluc’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you impossibly closer, it dawned on you: Diluc ran warm.
You tried to ignore it, but the temperature continued to overwhelm you. You gently pushed away from your lover, hoping to get a second of relief from the blistering heat.
Your boyfriend opened his eyes and frowned, noticing your movements. “Darling?” His voice was laced with concerned as his palm traveled up and down your torso. “You’re drenched in sweat, is everything okay?”
You closed your eyes and exhaled. “Just peachy.”
“Are you sure?”
You sighed. “You’re very warm.”
He chuckled, allowing you to crawl out of his arms. When you settled down to his right, his left came out to interlock your pinkies.
Despite just being denied the gift of cuddling you in his arms, Diluc still insisted for you two to be touching…
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—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————
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spidermanifested · 1 day
Text
heres MY rambly black sails analysis for the day, after watching the show twice in as many months i wholeheartedly believe in the "long john silvers quote unquote missus in treasure island is max, not madi" theory
the most obvious thing, as others have pointed out, is that in treasure island long john silver runs an inn with his wife, a black woman, in bristol, which is absolutely not madi behavior-- i cannot imagine madi would take him back in the first place much less move with him TO ENGLAND-- but IS maxs exact area of expertise. but theres so many other things that cement it for me
as early as episode 2, max tries to convince eleanor to buy out the inn and run it together with her when england takes nassau back. this is her dream-- to share power over her life with a woman she loves, free of the pressures of the outside world. (youll note this also happens to be silvers dream for himself and madi. the parallels)
in season 4 shes faced with the suspiciously similar option to take a husband to be the face of her business, completely on paper, for the sake of the public eye. and she refuses! she doesnt want to give a man that kind of power over her. not only that but she desperately wants to retain some kind of truth in her identity-- she admires anne for her honesty, her courage. these are things she can rarely afford to express. in refusing a marriage of convenience, she asserts her autonomy.
But. black sails tells us over and over again that an oppressive society will always find ways to batter down these private boundaries. there is no island safe from colonial rule. mirandas peaceful house in the interior is burnt to the ground. the maroons are forced to accept a freedom that comes at the price of abandoning those still enslaved and taking part in their continued subjugation. the things it takes to make these spaces are terrible, and unsustainable, and when it comes to being gay in the 1700s there is a tightrope to walk between privilege and privacy, one that destroyed flint and the hamiltons, thats even narrower to max as a self-made woman of color.
given all that, i do not believe she can girlboss her way out of her circumstances no matter how many lessons she took from what happened to eleanor. nor do i think the show believes it. i think the political-marriage-offer plot point is another illustration of that theme-- maxs desire, and silvers desire, to build a warm, happy room in the middle of the imperial machine, without meaningfully striking out against the machine itself, is destined to be futile no matter how strong they are as individuals.
max and silver are mirror images of one another. each of them is essentially the narrator of one half of the story. it is absolutely agonizing how BOTH of them tried to convince their lovers to abandon their ambitions, to settle for a quiet life with them, and in doing so saw that relationship destroyed by their own fear of an uncertain future....
....And its even MORE agonizing to imagine them finally securing the trappings of a domestic life... but without the love. and they know the love was what mattered! theyre always going to know!!!
it bookends PERFECTLY with their alliance at the start of the series. theyre right where they started, trusting no one, pretending to be humble and harmless, planning to steal the EXACT SAME TREASURE, except now theyre 50 years old and jaded and bitter and both pining after their lost loves. silver probably pictures madi whenever he tells people about his wife. when he and max have time to themselves they talk solely about finances and nothing else. its honestly impressive how miserable this is for every single person involved. im losing my mind
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yurinaa-world · 11 hours
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May i request love and deepspace boys with clingy!reader? Shes shy too!! In public, she'll hold onto his hand or finger and stays quiet but at home she becomes a yapper machine and also likes to plop onto his lap as she talks. Sometimes likes mindlessly squeezing and playing with his meaty bicep too :3
"𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒶𝓁𝓀 𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝒶 𝓁𝑜𝓉"
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💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, & Sylus x Gender-Neutral reader
💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: with a reader who's clingy at home and mindlessly touches him
💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling Mistakes
💫𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈: I got sickkk 😫 this isn't my usual quality...I'm sorry (it had to be when it's my first post with the 4 lnds guys...Give me another chance!)
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💫𝑅𝒶𝒻𝒶𝓎𝑒𝓁 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒜𝒷𝓎𝓈𝓈𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓀𝑒𝓇"
He eats it up, watching you act shy in public, grabbing the piece of his shirt or finger whenever you're in public. The second you feel like you're in a comfortable space he watches you unwind, holding onto him so tightly that he’ll just tease you. 
Your pretty self not wanting to let go of him, not even for a glass of water, straddling his lap, and arms wrapped around his neck, hiding in his neck. You're just begging him to tease you so badly. Yet his jaw just drops whenever you unconsciously touch him more. 
While you’re talking about your day, your hands unconsciously go to his chest. aren’t you so handsy? He stops in the middle of your sentence, teasing you so much even bringing up the other times you act shameless with him. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
After such a long day, you can’t help but unload everything you had been feeling the entire day, just going on and on while he puts on his irrelevant commentary—letting gasps and hums, you play with the buttons on his shirt before taking your hands away from his buttons, gently caress his chest while you talk about the climax of your entire day.
“You should have seen her, she was completely soaked and the owner didn’t even say anything even though it was his fault that it happened in the first place!” you chirped—your eyes shining so bright there might be little stars in them—leaning into his face to emphasize your point, he just gasps as if he were there experiencing it. “Oh wow…” he smiles back at you—it looked more like a sly lazy grin plastered on his lips.
“Yeah! And then…”
There you go again switching through topics so fast that he might just start taking notes to understand what you’re talking about. But feel his grin get wider, while your hands shamelessly touch his chest like a creep on the streets.
“If you’re going to shamelessly touch me, at least own up instead of pretending to tell a story.” He grins, snapping you out of your story with an accusation of your character. Your eyes go wide feeling embarrassment pool into your stomach, resulting in your cheeks becoming rosy red as your hands spring back.
“I didn’t mean to touch you like.” you stutter as if he were a cop, while he just enjoys watching you freak out. “You’re such a terrible liar, you’re always touching me, taking advantage of me just because I let you do it once” he sighs dramatically, pinching, and pulling your cheek as if he were an adult lecturing a child—in reality he would be the child…“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Don’t bother, I already know the truth.”
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💫𝒵𝒶𝓎𝓃𝑒 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐹𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓇"
He lets you unwind, it’s good for a person to relax after a long day, and you it’s no different—maybe a bit more affection from him while he lets you grasp onto his arms.
Arms wrapped around his one arm while you talk about your day, with a large smile on your face, your body basically sinking into the side of his. He finds it amusing the way you act but what does he expect? You’ve always been like that; it's not like he hates it, he loves it.
He even lets you play with his tie, slowly untying it and fiddling with it as if we’re some kind of toy.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“I didn’t tell you about the craziest thing that happened today.” You realized, switching through topics so fast that he has to put his entire mind onto what you tell him, which he doesn’t mind, he’ll always listen to whatever you have to say. 
Your body against his, sinking into his side with your fingers fiddling with the tie as if it were a toy.
His eyes are loving to them while he listens to your voice with such attentiveness as if he were still taking a midterm exam back while he was a medical student. Just going on and on, telling every part of the story, before stopping to think of another story in the past. “Remember when we were kids!…” there you go again.
He’ll always find it adorable, a small plastered upon his gentle face from your hold speaks for itself.
 “Do you remember that?” 
“Pretty well, I remember another embarrassing thing you used to do, always holding and touching…seems that nothing changed,” he smiles at you, his hand going to withdraw your hand that was fiddled with a tie, his thumb gently rubbing your knuckles.
“Your touch still feels more like a medical exam,” he gently teased you, seeing your mouth agape made him love you more.
“Not that I dislike the feeling, I can’t go a day without it.” He reassures, bringing your hand to his heart, making you feel where his heart is.
“You can Continue speaking, I won’t stop you.”
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💫𝒳𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑒𝓇 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝓊𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒪𝒻 𝐿𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉"
He just loves to listen to your voice, whether it be a childish story about what happened that day or a drama your friend/coworker told you.
Now it’s no different even if he’s dozing off, his head flinching awake while you straddle his lap. It's fine! He’s not tired! You should keep on talking!
Through his half-lidded eyes looking back at you. Your touches might be the thing that brings him towards the border of going to sleep and staying awake, how dangerous you are.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“And then she left her boyfriend for her boss,” you gushed, leaning into his face to exaggerate the story more while he looked back at you with his tired gaze, “can you believe it, Xavier? And you know what her boyfriend did!” you exclaimed, he can’t help but let out a yawn.
“What did he do?” he asked sluggishly, his arms snaking their way up your waist, he might just be going in and out of sleep, every time he slowly closed his eyes and opens to jump in between different stories or different parts of one long story, yet he couldn’t fall asleep, feeling your hands move around his body.
“Xavier, are you awake?” 
You gently poke his cheek, while he just softly groans before he pushes you into his neck, taking the chance to hide himself in the crook of your neck. 
“You can keep talking…”
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💫𝒮𝓎𝓁𝓊𝓈 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝒪𝒻 𝒪𝓃𝓎𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓊𝓈"
He’s very “attentive” to your little story about what happened in Linkon that day, with his eyes softly staring at you with that signature smirk. 
You have quite the hands, don’t you? He would think you were robbing him blind with your touches. Just feeling your arms on his bicep, his bicep right against your chest, even if he pulls slightly away, you just pull him back.
He can’t help himself but stare at you like, to the point you notice and stop your story under his gaze.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“So that’s what happened…” he hums, listening to your little stories, grasping tightly on his arm while you laugh at your own story, and the way your lips grin ear to ear. 
“Pity I wasn’t there to see that.” He murmured—the little voice in the back of your head tells that it’s probably not the story he's focused on, cocking his head to the side, watching you go off onto another rant. only for you to cut your story short when you locked eyes with him for too long.
“He…”
“Something wrong?” He tilts his eyebrow with a subtle smirk on his lips, watching your lips pressed together in nervousness. “Well…” you mutter, while he just laughs at your expression. 
“Go on, keep on talking, I'd rather not miss what you were telling me, keep grabbing my arm like that as well.”
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