#but they have the strongest cast of characters ever

[aeromaya]

One of the problems in the games is that the story never explained how Leon and Sonia had a strained relationship, and why Sonia left the gym challege.

Sonia never hated Leon, it's just the pressure of the gyms and the rumors is what took the fun out of battling for Sonia.

Pokespe manages to fix the plot hole of Sonia and Leon's relationship. Pretty realistic of Kusaka to write in how toxic sports fans could be. It adds a lot of stakes on why so many people take the gym challenge so seriously, and why winning is such a big deal for them.

[linkspooky]

The Next Gojo Satoru

As you've probably guessed I have a lot to say about this chapter. However, right away I want to start out by pointing out once again that the fandom is taking a mostly gojo-centric view of this chapter. Which I understand it's Gojo's body that's being puppeteered around and dehumanized in the exact same way that Kenjaku one of the sickest and most inhuman characters used Geto's body.

However I think it shouldn't be understated how shocking it is to see Yuta betray all of his values like this. The most human character who represents love in the cast has given up on the cast and betrayed someone he loves. So let's talk about what this all means for Yuta under the cut.

GOJO GETS AN F IN TEACHING.

I understand why most of the focus is on Gojo, because yes Gojo's body is the one being violated here. He's not even allowed to rest in death after fighting on the front lines against Sukuna to the point where his brain was hemmoraging in the middle of battle and he was brutally cut in half.

Considering how much horror Gojo experienced when he saw Geto's body taken from him and made into Kenjaku's pupet. Cosidering the horrible pain that Nanako and Mimiko endured just seeing Geto's body still moving around denied a good death (Nanako and Mimiko were tellingly willing to let go and not try to take revenge against Gojo for killing Geto because of their friendship even though Geto was their whole world, but they'd never forgive Kenjaku for taking his body). Considering that Gojo even went out of his way to say he wanted to kill Kenjaku / Geto on Christmas Eve again in order to give him a proper burial it's understandable how horrifying this update is.

This is also a series where the two main antagonists are parasites who take the bodies, and steal away all bodily autonomy from characters like Yuji and Megumi and then force them to do horrible things they would never do and bear witness to it, such as the slaughter at Shibuya, or the murder of Tsumiki at Megkuna's hands.

It's understandable how people had such a visceral reaction to this chapter. However, I think the fandom has a tendency to paint Gojo like he's the central victim of all of Jujutsu Society when he's both victim and perpetrator.

Gojo is someone who has only been regarded as the strongest his entire life, and been used as a tool to keep Jujutsu Society stable his entire life. Gojo is also someone who never tried to be anything other than the strongest, never tried to empathize with anyone other than those who were just as strong as he is, and who raised all of his students to be tools too.

To illustrate my point here's an incredibly similiar character from Tokyo Ghoul: Arima Kishou. They are so similiar that they're both white haired mentor characters to the protagonist, they're both the strogest in their respective worlds, and Gege straight up copied this section of panels from the Tokyo Ghoul Manga.

Arima is a breeding project, who was bred by the Washuu Family who mxies blood between humans and ghouls through a series of controlled marriages for the purpose of creating hybrid ghoul human children. Arima isn't the ideal hybrid they were looking for, but he was so ungodly talented he quickly rose to being the most powerful and well-respected investigator in the CCG.

However, this is how Arima reacts to the fact that his entire purpose in life was just to be a weapon to kill ghouls.

Arima loathes violence, he loathes being an investigator, he loathes himself most of all and designs his entire political revolution around him finally being killed by Kaneki - to punish himself and also to relieve himself of the burden of living a life where he was only meat to kill others.

Gojo on the other hand loves being the strongest, he lives for Jujutsu. Arima's death is tragic and nihilistic believing his life had no real worth because all he ever was was a weapon to hurt others, whereas Gojo died satisfied.

Arima's last battle against Kaneki is grim, silent, and tragic, he does everything he can to make Kaneki despise him, to force Kaneki to kill him by being the worst version of himself and when Kaneki still wants him to live he just slits his own throat because even if Kaneki forgives him he can't forgive himself. Gojo laughs his head off and has the time of his life fighting against Sukuna, and going out in a blaze of glory.

Gojo dies smiling, Arima dies finally breaking into tears after a life of pretedig to be cold and emotionless. Gojo's dying regret is 1) that Geto wasn't there to say goodbye to him, and 2) that he wasn't able to draw out all of Sukuna's strength. Arima's dying regret was all the pain and suffering he caused throughout his life and how he was never able to rise above his circumstances and be anything other than what he was born to be.

These two characters are incredibly similiar, they are both the strongest, and they were both made into tools by a dehumanizing system they were born into. However, their attitudes are entirely different. Gojo enjoys being strong, and yes part of it is that Gojo himself doesn't realize he's a victim or what society has groomed him into becoming, but the other part is just because it's an ego trip for him. Gojo doesn't see himself as the tragic victim his fandom makes him out to be.

If you were to transplant him into Tokyo Ghoul Gojo would be happily killing ghouls, and he would think killing ghouls is fun because he's the strongest and best at killing ghouls. This is the complexity that is Satoru Gojo, he has been dehumanized and put on a pedestal his ow life, but Gojo also enjoys being on that pedestal and won't ever step down from it willingly.

I'm not saying that Arima is a better person than Gojo. I think the fact that Gojo doesn't think of himself as a victim is tragic in its own right, because he lacks the self-awareness to actually grow and change as a person. In the end both Arima and Gojo believe they couldn't be anything better than what they were, and their only release is death which is just insanely sad to me because as long as the future exists people always have a chance to get better no matter who they are. To give up on the future, to see an early death as a good thing simply because you can't endure life any longer is one of the most hopeless things imaginable.

Gojo's not sad because he was born to be a tool exploited for society's benefit, he's sad because he was lonely. He doesn't even realize it's his own darn fault he's lonely, because not only has Shoko said that he's not alone she's always been right there, but this chapter we get a repeat of Gojo's students begging him to let them in and Gojo himself decided to draw that line between himself and others and thinking an enlightened, godlike being like himself can't possibly be understood.

All of this to say I think Gojo is the sole victim here, but he's the middle of a chain of of victimhood. I think ultimately the biggest victim here is Yuta, and yes I will not only play trauma olympics here I'm going to win.

If this chapter goes to show anything it's that Gojo has completely failed in his ideals of protecting the youth from the dehumanizing system of sorcerers that takes children and reduces them to cogs in a machine.

A lot of people criticize Jujutsu Kaisen for dropping basically all of its political elements and themes of reform in the second half after Shibuya, and while I understand the criticism I think Gege intentionally shifted away from politics because Gojo's political revolution was never going to succeed.

From the beginning Gojo's solution to reforming Jujutsu Society and it's habit of taking away the youth of children and raising them up instead as child soldiers is... to make stronger child soldiers.

This is Gojo's blindspot and it has always been Gojo's blindspot.

It's why Gojo is completely okay with someone like Mei Mei who at the best uses her brother as a human shield to get out of curse domains and has stolen his entire childhood away to make him own pet little shoulder, and at worst actively molests him.

It's why Gojo is stated in the databooks to have only taken an interest in Megumi and Yuta because they were strong.

Gojo understands that he's being exploited by Jujutsu Society, but doesn't understand you need to deconstruct unfair systems of power and exploitation in order to build something better. Gojo from the beginning only had one plan, and that was to replace the people at the top with his own allies who'd support his agenda. He just thought waiting for them to die out and the children to grow up was the more peaceful way of doing it.

Gojo's political revolution was doomed from the beginning and that's why we see him go back on his word this chapter and just slaughter everyone at the top. His choice of a new leader for Jujutsu Society is hardly better than the elders, the person who executed Gojo's teacher and tried to get all the children to kill Itadori early on. Good choice.

This is what Gojo said would happen though, if he just wiped everyone out at the top no real systemic change would occur because they'd just be replaced with someone who wasn't that differet. Gojo's just given up on the notion of lasting change out of pragmatism.

Which is why Gojo himself is not that different from the elders in the first place, not because he's a bad person but because he was shaped by that same society and he's the pinnacle of that society.

I think the thing is and this point often gets ignored - a lot of the choices the elders make are because of outdated traditions like choosing to oppress Maki and Toji just because they challenge the traditional notions of cursed energy.

However, some of the decisions they make are out of cold hard pragmatism. Gakuganji actually turned out to be right in his assassiation attempt against Yuji Itadori. If they had succesfully killed Yuji, then the massacre in Shibuya would have been prevented and likely Kenjaku's plans would have been pushed back. The elders didn't sentence Yuta to execution just to be cruel, or just because they're superstitious but because he's already had several incidents of nearly killing people because he can't control Rika.

It's easy to dismiss the Elders as evil because they're just faceless entities, but then we witness in this very same chapter the main characters making the same heartless decisions out of the same sense of pragmatism.

Gojo understands Jujutsu Society is flawed, but doesn't understand exactly why it's wrong. He doesn't raise his students to be independent free thinkers because then they might question him, he raises them to be very powerful because that's more pragmatic.

Here are the next generation of sorcerers who are going to bring about the change to Jujutsu Society that Gojo so desperately seeks.

Nobara Kugisaki: Dead

Hakari Kinji: His greatest ambition is to start a fight club

Yuji: Actively calls himself a mindless cog and just wants to kill whatever society points him at and tells him to kill.

Maki: Mass murderer.

Yuta: Just stole Gojo's body and said he had to become a monster i Gojo's place.

Megumi: Begging to be killed.

Inumaki: Tuna Mayo

Panda: Is a Panda

(Joke lovingly ripped off from @kaibutsushidousha)

I understand that fighting Sukuna takes precedence now, but do you think once the dust settles any of these characters are going to do anything to make lasting change?

Are we going to see anything for them at the end of the road other than a mountain of their fellow sorcerers corpses?

Gojo didn't nurture his students to grow into healthy adults, he raised them into stronger child soldiers and yes that's the pragmatic thing to do to help them survive in the Jujutsu World, but the elders make those decisions out of cold pragmatism as well.

MHA is also showing a story where the children are failing to learn from the previous generatio's mistakes, but it's far less frustrating to watch in JJK because it almost seems like that's the point?

Maki sacrificed Mai for the sake of becoming someone strong enough to reform the Zen'in Clan, only for her sister to die and Maki to slaughter the rest of her family failing in both her goals to reform her clan and protect Mai.

Yuji became the host of Sukuna in order to help others, because the total deaths of people in the world would go down if he ate all the fingers. Not only did that decision lead to the death of thousands in Shibuya, but he's even lost his role of being Sukuna's host to Megumi.

Yuta wanted to find a reason to live and a purpose in protecting his friends, and also wanted to pay back the man who saved him, not only is Yuta choosing to die in a way that breaks his friends heart he's also violating his beloved teacher's bodies.

There's a lot of arcs like this where characters fail in what they set out to accomplish, because like in most tragedies they don't try to grow as people they only care about getting stronger. It's the same choice over ad over again, a decision made of cold pragmatism that brings about their tragic ending.

I think it speaks to why systems like this perpetuate themselves, because it becomes so hard to hold onto your humanity that even trying gets you actively punished all the while people like Mei Mei crawl to the top. However, even if you throw your humanity away purely as an act of survival you're still helping perpetuate that system instead of fighting against it.

Anyway, that's enough hating on Gojo, onto the main event.

THE NEXT GOJO SATORU.

It's almost masterful how perfect the foreshadowing for this chapter's twist was. Yuta sharing a common ancestor in Sugawara with Gojo.

The irony that Kenjaku said out loud that someone like Yuta could never become Gojo, on top of the fact that Yuta's true power comes from detaining his loved ones soul. He's turning Gojo's body into a weapon the same way that he once used Rika's vengeful cursed spirit as one (he even channels her strength into a sword, the same way Maki uses the sword that Mai gave her life to create in battle).

The way that Yuji's first impression of Yuta from his powerful presence and cursed energy alone was calling him someone even creepier than Gojo.

The idea that Kenjaku has been trying to get his hands on the six-eyes for years, which is what led most of the fandom to theorize a possible Kenjaku return by stealing Gojo's corpse. The fact Tengen said the six eyes, himself and the star plasma vessel are all connected and one time Kenjaku killed the six-eyes from a child only for another one to appear right away.

Yuta being told he could never reach Sukuna's heights because he lacks the selfishness of a calamity.

Even Yuta trying to tell a nameless assassin Uro to be less selfish, only to be chastised by her for not understanding because it's impossible for someone as blessed as he is to know what it's like to not have a name, to not have a face, to not be someone important.

Now here Yuta is, not only is he making the selfish decision to use his teacher's body as a tool, he's also most likely in five minutes going to die in someone else's body, having sacrificed not only his name, and face, but also his personal values in order to become a monster.

This arc makes it seem like Yuta's gone against everything he's stood for, making his arc a complete circle from Jujutsu Kaisen Zero and that's kind of the point. Heck, even something as small as Yuta's decision to show mercy to Ishigori was rendered pointless because Sukuna immediately killed him soon after taking Megumi's body.

If Yuta's regressed in his character it's because Gojo's purpose was not to raise these children into healthy adults, but strong soldiers.

What happened to Yuta is a direct consequence of the way Gojo recruits these children, and the underhanded motivations he has behind those recruitments.

Yuta's decision to take Gojo's body is more tragic on Yuta's part then it is on Gojo's, because Yuta is a child, and Gojo is an adult.

It is sad that Gojo is all alone, that he's forced to become a tool to society, but Yuta shouldn't be the one who feels responsible for that. Gojo is supposed to protect Yuta, he's the adult, the teacher, the one with power and Yuta is the child. Yuta is not the one who should be making this speech because it is not Yuta's responsibility to do any of this - but Yuta thinks it is because he owes Gojo.

However, when Gojo recruits people it's with the unspoken implication that they now owe him. He wants them to feel indebted, because then they'll be easier to use as pieces in his intended political revolution. We see this blatantly with the way he recruited Megumi.

I'll make sure you and your sister don't starve but you owe me in the form of labor later on in your life.

Gojo saved Yuta because he thought Rika was powerful and the elders were foolish for executing a potentially powerful sorcerer for THE GREATER GOOD instead of teaching him to control his power out of fear. Gojo recruited Yuji, because someone with Sukuna's power and who could eat his fingers as a vessel had the makings to be an incredibly powerful sorcerer. Gojo didn't even think of Megumi until after Geto defected, and Gojo decided he needed to start making changes to Jujutsu Society.

While Gojo's pragmatism is understandable to a point it also poisons his more nobler intentions. Since Gojo expects payment in return when he sticks his neck out for people, because these children are assets first and children secod.

I think Gojo likes Yuta. I think he gets along with him well. Yuta clearly respects him as a mentor. He did in fact go to great lengths to save Yuta from execution. He was right that it was more ethical to teach Yuta to control his powers rather than execute him for the danger he might represet. He even gives Yuta emotional advice a couple of times.

However, if Yuta was just like a grade 4 sorcerer with no special talent I doubt Gojo would have blinked at his execution. He sees Yuta for his talent first, and his potential to become someone like him. If anythig there are clear comparisons to both Megumi and Yuta. They're both prodigies born with incredible techniques, but Yuta is a lot more receptive to Gojo's grooming than Megumi is who's too traumatized to function. Gojo's not just grooming Yuta into being a powerful sorcerer, but another version of himself.

So it's almost karmic that not only does Yuta basically turn his back on everything that makes Yuta himself (his love for people, his desire to live and be surrounded by others), he also does so by literally becoming Satoru Gojo and transplanting his brain into Gojo's body.

Because Yuta is despite possessing a similiar level of talent as far from Gojo as possible. Gojo is not well liked by his comrades, he's there because he's needed due to his power. Yuta on the other hand has everyone vehemently disagreeing with his backup plan in the event of Gojo's death because they don't want to lose him.

People need Gojo, they want Yuta because of the connections that Yuta has made with them and because they care about Yuta as a person. Gojo is someone who deliberately draws a line between himself and others because he believes the strongest can't be comprehended, Yuta only fights for the sake of being accepted by others because he needs their approval in order to live.

Yuta's now turned his back on those two things, his tendency to put his loved ones first, and his desire to live, both because he feels he owes Gojo.

This comes about because of two factors, number one Gojo helping him with the implication that this help means that Yuta owes him something which makes Yuta desperate to pay him back and therfore easy to mold, and number two Gojo's intentions to begin with to take Yuta and make another Gojo out of him. To make a successor who would carry on the same burdens that Gojo did.

Gojo succeeded one hundred percent in making his successor as opposed to Megumi who turned out to be too different from Gojo i the end. He took what make Yuta unique and ironed out all those wrinkles until he was left with someone willing to make the same inhumane, pragmatic decisions that Gojo was.

I think it's tragic that as much as Gojo wanted to make things better for the next generation, he basically led Yuta down the same road he did, to make the same choice to throw his humanity away along with all of his loved ones. Especially since Yuta started out in such a different place.

Yuta has learned to become selfish like Gojo, because selfishness is apparently now the only way to get by in this world. A cycle that has been started with the elders, and continued on with Gojo, remains unbroken as Yuta becomes just another link in the chain. Yuta's likely going to die in a stranger's body, leaving all of his friends behind to mourn him, but even if he lives what life will that be exactly?

It speaks to the arcs in Jujutsu Kaisen that they're all kind of circles at this point. We have this heartwarming goodbye of Rika telling Yuta to live, and Yuta's whole arc was to learn to try to live without Rika and make new friends, but it's now likely goig to end with Yuta dying a year after Rika finally moved on.

Choso was told to try living on as a human and Yuki even sacrificed her life to give him the opportuity to escape the fight, and he only lived a month longer to die right in front of Yuji's eyes.

Gojo put all of his hope in the next generation, but now not only did he put all the power in Gakuganji's hands but he ended up dying a year after Geto did just like Yuta will likely die a year after Rika.

I think these character arcs are turning out to be circles because the characters aren't actually doing anything to try to break the cycles that they're trapped inside of - they're only trying to get stronger. Which is why they end up resembling the actions of the villains, Yuji becoming more curselike, Yuta stealing Gojo's body the way Kenjaku did with Geto's.

It reminds me of a quote from Critical Role that I absolutely adore.

“I have just taken an audience with the Raven Queen who has snuffed any hope of my redemption, for which I am truly grateful. With new clarity, I can finally see my life as a series of compounding, poor choices.” Vax winces. “There was nothing I could’ve done to save my family, yet I still sold my soul in search of vengeance. Later I allowed Ripley to leave, knowing full well she was a greater threat to the world than the Briarwoods would ever be. I traded the world’s safety for the belief that I could murder my way to peace; that if I could be a greater horror, it would bring my family back. And once this lie was shattered I scrambled to find asolution, to make a deal, to undo my mistakes and balance the scales. I nowunderstand that there are no scales, there is no redemption, and no ledger that judges me good or evil. I am free to simply be myself and live with the terrible mistakes I’ve made."

Especially this sentence: I believed I could murder my way to peace; that if I could be a greater horror, it would bring my family back.

Maki is a character that I have not found all that interesting in a while because she committed such a huge mass murder, only for it to have no consequences in the narrative and never be mentioned again, but this chapter she suddenly became an interesting character again.

Maki who lost everything but gained strength, doesn't seem all that bothered by the loss. People compare Megumi's reaction to losing Tsumiki to Maki's reaction to losing Mai, but Megumi's reaction is much more interesting because it's always better to see a character be weak and fall apart then to be strong and power through things.

However, maybe the reason Maki hasn't experienced any grief at all towards Mai and has instead delighted in her newfound strength and independence is because of this, because she still had Yuta.

Maki is a character who's not really said anything other than exposition the past like twenty chapters, but now she's the most vocally against Yuta sacrificing himself for the greater good. Yet this is against Maki's own ideology of doing everything you can to be stronger, to win. Maki was always about individualism, not about friendship or the bonds between others, she severed her own bonds to be free. Yet, she can't stand to see Yuta do the same thing as her, to become more like her.

This might be the consequence of Maki's continued choice to value freedom and the power to achieve that freedom over all else. Now, the one time Yuta is trying to throw away the same things that she threw away she can't say anything meaningful or convince him to stop him.

Which reminds painfully of this chapter as well.

Mai killing herself in order to free Maki from cursed energy is an obvious parallel to Sukuna devouring his own twin in the womb, but the difference is in this situation Maki didn't want Mai to go, she begged her not to. However, just like with Yuta there was nothing Maki could ahve said or done by that point to convince Mai to stay. Maki has always chosen power over her sister, she's always abandoned Mai, so what exactly can she say to convince her that she cares more about Mai more? That her dream of defeating the Zen'in and having revenge against them isn't worth the price if it comes at the sacrifice of Mai?

Maki didn't want to abandon Mai, or for Mai to sacrifice herself, but tragically her every action indicated otherwise. It all comes down to this: I believed I could murder my way to peace; that if I could be a greater horror, it would bring my family back.

Maki seems to have achieved peace by murdering the Zen'in, but we see the same kind of circular arc that we have for Yuta.

Maki gave up on everything for strength, but Maki's not strong enough to finish Sukuna then and there, forcing Yuta to sacrifice himself the same way Mai did.

Maki can't talk Yuta out of making that sacrifice, or come up with any convincing argument with why he shouldn't because of all the choices she's made before this.

Maki chose to murder her way to peace, but it came at the cost of her humanity and growth and thus she's faced again with the exact same situation with Mai and she's forced to watch her heart be taken from her again.

It goes to show that we think these characters are getting stronger but they're actually sacrificing something vitally important.

These characters are just going to keep going around in circles and you have to wonder just when is it going to stop?

[solxamber]

Helloo, I absolutely love you writing! Your understanding of the twst characters’ personalities is phenomenal 😭❤️

May I request both Ace and Malleus crushing on reader simultaneously, and both are aware that the other likes reader (reader is oblivious hehe). Ace gets super insecure since he isn’t powerful nor of royal status and believes there’s no way he can compete against him, meanwhile Malleus gets super jealous since Ace has been friends with reader ever since and is the most close with him.

Ace x Reader x Malleus (Love Triangle)

a/n: the giggle i let out when i saw this!! such a fun concept and thank you so much 🫶🫶

It started with a normal day: you laughing at one of Ace's jokes, completely unaware of the storm brewing behind you. The storm in question was Ace and Malleus glaring daggers at each other over your oblivious head.

Ace was slouched in his chair, shooting side-eyes at the imposing figure standing too close to your desk. Why does he have to hover like that? he thought bitterly. Malleus, for his part, was casting pointed glances at Ace’s casual posture, as if silently saying, Is this the best you can do?

Neither could deny the truth. They were both hopelessly, tragically in love with you. And they both knew it.

Ace prided himself on being the guy you could count on for a laugh. But today, he was on a mission: show you how amazing he was.

“So, anyway,” he said loudly during your study session in the library, “I totally aced—get it?—my magic exam. Got full marks.” He leaned back smugly, hoping you’d be impressed.

Malleus, who had been quietly sitting nearby (because of course he was), looked up. “Impressive, Ace Trappola. But I suppose it pales in comparison to wielding centuries-old magic and commanding legions of loyal subjects.”

Ace choked on his own smugness. “Yeah, well, I bet you don’t even know how to mix a potion without turning it into swamp goo, huh?”

“Actually, I mastered potion-making at a young age. I created an elixir capable of reviving withered flora.”

“Cool, cool. Can you tell me how any of that helps the prefect with our history homework?” Ace shot back, leaning closer to you.

Malleus frowned. “History is one of my strongest subjects.”

“Oh my Seven—” Ace groaned and threw his hands up. “We get it. You’re ancient!”

You looked between them, confused. “Are you two okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” Malleus said smoothly.

“Great! I was just explaining history to Deuce,” Ace lied shamelessly.

Lunch was another battlefield. Ace had secured a seat next to you and was recounting a funny story involving Grim, a mop, and a very angry caterpillar monster.

“…and then Grim screamed so loud, I think half the campus heard him! Right, Prefect?” Ace said, nudging you.

Before you could respond, the shadow of a tall figure fell over the table.

“Malleus,” Ace said with a forced grin. “Didn’t see you there. Like, at all.”

“I thought I would join you,” Malleus said, sitting directly across from you, his gaze unwavering. “Do you require assistance with your meal? Perhaps I could conjure something more fitting for your taste.”

“Okay, that’s just cheating,” Ace muttered under his breath.

“Conjuring food is a skill that requires great control,” Malleus said casually. “It’s a shame some rely solely on mediocre cafeteria fare.”

“Oh, so now the chicken nuggets aren’t good enough for you?” Ace snapped.

“They lack refinement,” Malleus said.

“Yeah? Well, you lack… I dunno, vibes!” Ace countered.

You blinked. “Ace, are you okay? You’re yelling about chicken nuggets.”

“Y-Yeah, I’m good,” Ace mumbled, shoving a nugget in his mouth to shut himself up.

The tension boiled over during a school festival. There was a dance competition, and both Ace and Malleus signed up for one reason: to win your attention.

Ace went first, pulling off a routine filled with flashy moves that he definitely stole from a popular video. The crowd cheered, and you clapped the loudest.

“Not bad, right?” Ace said, slightly out of breath but grinning. “Bet I’m the first guy you’ve seen dance like that.”

Before you could respond, Malleus stepped onto the stage.

“I shall now perform a traditional dance of my homeland,” he announced.

It was graceful, mesmerizing, and undeniably magical—literally. The lights dimmed, and green flames swirled around him as he moved with perfect precision. The crowd was silent, utterly captivated.

Ace stood next to you, slack-jawed. “I… I can’t compete with that.”

You turned to him with a smile. “I thought your dance was amazing too.”

Ace lit up like a firework. “Y-Yeah? You mean that?”

Malleus, mid-spin, glanced at you both. His expression darkened.

Eventually, the competition escalated to new heights of absurdity. Ace baked you cookies, only to find out Malleus had hand-carved you a jewelry box. Malleus enchanted roses to bloom eternally, and Ace countered by organizing a surprise karaoke night with all your favorite songs.

But when you tripped and both of them scrambled to catch you, the ridiculousness reached its peak.

“You caught their hand,” Malleus said, an edge to his voice.

“And you caught their other hand!” Ace snapped.

You, still mid-air, sighed. “Can someone just catch me completely next time?”

Despite their antics, one thing was clear: they both adored you. And while their rivalry was exasperating, it was also… kind of sweet.

Well, for you, anyway. For them? Not so much.

Masterlist

[ohnoitstbskyen]

Since I asked you about Sephiroth, I also wanted to ask about what you think of Aerith’s character and her characterization throughout the franchise.

Hhh oh god. Yeah.

So, again, Aerith begins in Final Fantasy VII as a seemingly intentional semi-subversion of the Princess Holy Maiden White Mage JRPG trope.

Mechanically she is absolutely a classic white mage, but she's also a street kid with way more life experience than Cloud, who both connects instantly with him due to his similarities with Zack, her dead ex (because, of course, Cloud is directly copying Zack's entire personality), but she also notably pushes back against him, and repeatedly refuses to let him treat her like a damsel in distress, and takes direct agency over where the story is going and what's going to happen.

As she becomes more and more conscious of her Magic Special Lineage, she changes, of course, and... arguably falls a bit more into a straight rendition of the Holy Maiden trope. Albeit I have always quite loved the reveal that Aerith isn't killed by Sephiroth just as a big tragic fridging to advance the story through Cloud's pain, but as an intentional gambit on her part to ultimately defeat the villain. The translation of the game is famously a bit wonky, but my reading of the story is that she

realizes that Sephiroth is manipulating Cloud as his primary agent in the world and that she needs to get away from him

realizes that in order to cast Holy and defeat Meteor she needs to enter the Lifestream, so

she manipulates Jenova/Sephiroth into killing her in the one place on the Planet that has the strongest connection with the Ancients so she can take advantage of their knowledge to figure out how to make Holy work.

It also kinda seems to me like she realizes that Cloud is the best chance the planet has of a champion who can defeat Sephiroth and unblock the Lifestream for the Holy spell, and maybe she sacrifices herself in part in the hopes of breaking Cloud out of Sephiroth's influence. which, yeah, that is definitely some fridging-trope nonsense.

The original game absolutely isn't perfect on how it handles it, but Aerith is (especially for the late 90s) a remarkably active player in the story, with a lot of agency entirely separate from the male protagonist, who comes into a role that requires her to separate herself from the main party and go off to set her own plans into motion.

I am overall less fond of how she got portrayed in media after the original FF7, where she really did seem to get boxed into an entirely unironic Holy Maiden trope - especially by Advent Children which casts her as a literal lover/mother to Cloud, whose especially pure and holy influence heals the blight of Geostigma once her darling Cloud overcomes his personal conflict. And certainly, a lot of portrayals of Aerith I've seen tend to focus way more on her mystical, divine Cetra Chosen One-ness than on her actual upbringing as a scrappy sassy street kid.

The Remake games... have generally walked the line okay, I think? Aerith with the steel chair might genuinely be my favourite gif from any videogame ever,

(she's just so happy to be beating the shit out of this man)

although I do feel like her portrayal in those games make her a bit too much of a Love Interest To The Protagonist character. I feel the balance in the original focused a lot more on her coming into an understanding of her role in the story separate from her attachment to Cloud, but I also have massive nostalgia glasses on my face about Final Fantasy VII, so I recognize that I am biased here.

I'm curious how the Remake trilogy, which is a wild metacommentary on the legacy of its own original, will ultimately handle her, and I really do hope it doesn't confuse the idea of a "good ending" for Aerith with the idea of being romantically paired up to a male character, or with the idea of literal or metaphorical motherhood or some other bioessentialist nonsense.

[thebroccolination]

THAMEPO'S RELATIONSHIP (AS OF EPISODE 4)

Back when the teaser (made as an appeal to sponsors) aired in part two of GMMTV's 2024 showcase, and especially after the trailer (cut from the actual series) aired, I thought ThamePo looked like it would become one of the strongest series GMMTV has ever made.

So far, even though we're only four episodes in, it's well surpassing my expectations. Apparently, it's a passion project that the director had in the making for five years, waiting for the right casting to come along, so based on that alone, it's a series made with love. And I have a soft spot for passion projects. <3

Still, the top criterion I judge all series by is the quality of the writing, and since ThamePo's director is also a seasoned screenwriter who developed the script, this is one of the strongest aspects of the series so far.

Over the past four episodes, we've seen our protagonist's flaws (people-pleasing, projecting, temper) and strengths (resourcefulness, observational skill, cleverness), what he wanted (to return to the creative working world) and how it's changing (to reunite MARS). We've met the public version of Thame, the shallow version of Thame that Po misread, and the private version of Thame trying to make amends with his friends. We've met three of those friends (Jun, Dylan, and Pepper) and have hints about the fourth (Nano), and each friend we've met has given us more insight into the kind of person Thame is and what he's done to try and protect his group as the leader.

Since the main conflict of the story appears to be Thame being forced to choose between his band or his new boyfriend—

—Thame's relationship with Po has to move at quite a quick clip so he's emotionally invested enough in their relationship that it's a difficult choice. He's already extremely attached to his friends, so I'd argue one of the biggest challenges in the writing was having him fall in love with Po convincingly fast without it feeling forced by the hand of the screenwriter.

And daaamn has that been well-accomplished, in my opinion.

First, Po gets his Y/N moment.

It's established in the first episode that Thame saw Po at a fanmeeting once and remembered him because Po did something kind for someone when he didn't have to. Presumably because Thame's in a fairly cutthroat industry where people are constantly vying for his attention, maneuvering him like a chess piece, or flat-out ignoring him, that small act of kindness was probably one of the bright points of his day, week, or even month. Especially as things started falling apart with the other members.

In that same episode, we see Po projecting the heartbreak from his previous relationship onto Thame.

And in return, Thame—who spends most of the next episode docilely doing whatever he's told to do by the company—allows some of what he's hidden to show out of frustration presumably brought on by being so thoroughly misunderstood and chastised by a stranger he used to think well of and now suspects of being a sasaeng.

Because both characters are in such vulnerable places emotionally, it translates well to the narrative when they start to depend on one another.

On Po's end, his recent breakup has left him feeling foolish and exposed, taken advantage of by a man who refused to acknowledge Po's sacrifices or show any true appreciation for all the work Po did to see him succeed.

Meanwhile, Thame is alone in every way that matters.

His parents are neglectful,

his friends abandoned him,

and his boss is manipulating him.

At the start, Po is quite literally the only ally he has.

It's because Po kept at him to be honest, to be sincere, that Thame woke up and decided to fight for himself.

And because Thame is doing something for himself for a change, that's what wins back his closest friend Jun.

What I love about this whole narrative is that it's already established from Po's previous relationship that he's the kind of person to give himself entirely to a cause for someone else's benefit. He helped Earn to his own detriment, he picked up a small child so she could see, and he's risking his job to help Thame find happiness and peace.

So it's entirely in-character for him to, say, go through a whole room filled with boxes of rejected song lyrics trying to find one piece of paper that he had to tape back together. Only for it not to matter, because Thame mended fences with Dylan on his own.

I'd argue this is what makes Po think, Maybe I'm too emotionally involved in this. Especially after Jun has point-blank told him that Thame would never be interested in him that way.

We see the moment Po doubts his enthusiastic support of this whole project.

And it's clear that this could have been where it ended for Po.

Until Thame, observant and kind and the polar opposite of Earn, says exactly the right thing to him.

Because that was the major breaking point for Po in his relationship with Earn. He was made to feel disposable. Extraneous. Unnecessary. But Thame recognizes the work he's done, the effort he's put in. He may be reuniting the group for his own satisfaction, but he's not so selfish that he can let Po's contributions go unobserved and unappreciated.

Then, y'know. Thame talks to Po until he falls asleep—

—and serenades him in the morning.

And the thing is! Knowing all we know about Thame—that his parents don't seem to care about him, that he's been isolated from his friends, that he's been made helpless in his own career for so long after being manipulated into signing contracts that restrict his freedom—it makes sense for him to be the one pursuing Po this hard. Just as much as it makes sense for recently heartbroken Po to be interested and yet hesitant.

Setting all of this up in four episodes while covering the entire backstory of MARS and their gradual reunion is a feat of excellent writing. We have a reason to care about Thame and Po's relationship, because it's been clearly shown to us that they bring out the best in each other and that they're willing, even at this early stage, to take risks for each other. We've also got reason to care about MARS, because they seem to be more family to Thame than his own, and they're his current priority.

I'm genuinely thrilled to see such solid writing come from a GMMTV series because as I've said before, they seem more and more recently to chuck first drafts on an assembly line and just assume the fandom will watch anything regardless of the quality as long as certain khuujin are cast as the leads (which, y'know, isn't untrue).

While I enjoy some GMMTV QL series as mindless fluff to watch with friends, there are very few I'd say are written well. Apart from ThamePo, only five other series I've seen have what I'd consider well-executed scripts: Pluto (2024), Be My Favorite (2023), Dark Blue Kiss (2019), SOTUS S (2017), and SOTUS (2016). Sadly, I think Not Me (2022) was on track to be one of the best with its first half, but the production was infamously neglected with episodes cut by GMMTV at the last minute and the script deprived of major edits that left the second half almost shallow by comparison. (Of course, Not Me had a host of censorship issues as well, so we may never know how much that interfered with the quality. It's still an incredible series for its ambition and for Nuchy's directing, and I'll be mad every day of my reincarnation cycle that it didn't get the writing support it deserved.)

Otherwise, nearly every GMMTV series I've seen has at least one major basic storytelling flaw (no character arc, a sloppy resolution, unconvincing setup, weak characterization, excess filler, etc.), and they seem to be first drafts with very little depth. With that in mind, I hope to see ThamePo do well enough that it sends a message to GMMTV that they should focus more on the writing of their series. I think based on what we've seen in the first four episodes and in the trailer, the script quality is reliable, and ThamePo's relationship may be one of the best-written we've seen yet. <3

[wardensantoineandevka]

I won't get around to writing a properly developed post on it, but speaking generally and assuming broad good faith, I personally think the anachronism in Veilguard is fine. I know it's a deeply held bit of style for a lot of people, and many hold the directive about no anachronism as important to things feeling properly Dragon Age.

Personally, I never felt it THAT important. I roll my eyes at nitpicking about historically accurate costuming too, and I pause to wonder what IS "anachronism" in fantasy. I think a lot of the style of the games leaned so hard on it that, in some places, it was a substituting this rule in place of developing stronger individual style or voice. I love this series, but I don't feel like characters (notably once you got past core cast), locations, etc. always and consistently had a strong sense of voice, both in terms of diction but also in visual direction. I feel like even the music gets this a little bit, since Veilguard feels more musically interesting to me than many of the prior tracks because, I think, the soundtrack is allowed to feel a little less like vaguely European medieval heroic fantasy.

There's always been anachronism, but I think the strict reliance on adhering to a particular conception of what A Fantasy Story looks and sounds like really hampered, at least for me, the development of style identity. Veilguard's voice and style broke from that in a way that did feel successfully more specific and striking for the story and characters it's trying to dress. I think being released from this directive does—because there's no longer what we bring ourselves to the table from our familiarity with the genre and pattern recognition—however, magnify flaws in how Bioware always has treated the setting as just the backdrop against which these dramas play out. But that's outside the scope of my thoughts here. I'll just summarize that with: that's a consistent Bioware problem, and I don't think it's inherently wrong to approach worldbuilding as merely dressing the set for your story, though perhaps that isn't always the most successful approach here and I know many fans are very invested in the setting itself and its development, so that would put us all at cross purposes.

Don't get me wrong. There IS a place for that sort of directive, a rule against things that scan too modern. But then, I think for it to work, you have to have a very firm idea of your own voice, of your individual style and direction working with that directive, and frankly, I don't think Bioware EVER really had a super strong grasp of it here.

I do think the character design especially, character voice, and visual identity suffered SO much in many earlier instances because of this directive. Meanwhile, I think it's interesting and striking to have things like, for example, Neve clearly drawing from film noir and how that informs how I approach and think about her as a character and how appropriate it feels that Lucanis and Illario end on the stage of an opera house. I feel like being released from having to worry about anachronism has, for me, produced some of the strongest instances of style and voice in the series in a long time.

And I know a lot of people feel the OPPOSITE, which is a matter of personal experience and taste, but for my own, it always felt like the series was weighed down by a notion of needing to properly emulate The Genre. (We've all looked at the infamous browns and muds of Origins, a game I am fond of. This is why it looks and sounds like that, in my opinion.) This fear of being too anachronistic or too modern often left the series not really feeling, to me, like it's really had a firm sense or idea of what its style or voice was, of what made it sound or look like itself, because it was always afraid of being too modern while also feeling afraid to not look enough like a heroic epic fantasy.

I think getting rid of that and no longer fearing it has done a lot for developing a stronger voice with a look, sound, and feel for Veilguard that feels more specific and conveys story and character so much better and more confidently. Because, in the end, that's supposed to be what this is all in service of: conveying character and story. I feel like Veilguard, in being released from this restriction, has developed a stronger voice with which to do it.

[mono-blogs-art]

23.5 - Sapphic Highschool Fluff Done Right

You'd think that a "classic highschool romance" is easy to do - but sometimes what seems easy takes a lot of effort to pull off right. 23.5 is simple, silly, lovingly crafted fluffy excellence with a fantastic cast and will give you butterflies like you didn't expect it to! Here's my full review - totally spoiler free this time!

Summary: Overall: 9/10 - I really, really loved it! Genre: Highschool Rom-Com Watch if you're looking for...: tooth-achingly sweet fluff, a wonderfully diverse and well-developed queer ensemble, a classic teen rom-com that will still get you in your feels Watch out for...: no warnings necessary Length: 12 episodes averaging about 45 mins each Where to watch: GMMTV's YouTube channel, all episodes are available with subs in multiple languages!

Full title "23.5 องศาที่โลกเอียง" (The Earth's Axis Tilts by 23.5 Degrees), based on the novel of the same name by author Blue, the show strides new territory as production company GMMTV's first major lesbian/GL show. It stars "Milk" Pansa Vosbein and "Love" Pattranite Limpatiyakorn, who have previously played sapphic side couples together on other GMMTV shows and now get their time to shine as 23.5's main characters.

Ongsa just moved from Phuket to Bangkok and knows no one at her new highschool - except her older sister, her weird cousin, and Sun, a girl in her new class who she's had a crush on for months. While incredibly awkward in real life, Ongsa's online persona "Earth" is able to communicate with Sun effortlessly and soon, Sun falls for Earth - thinking it's a guy, and not knowing that it's actually Ongsa. At the same time, Ongsa and Sun get closer at school as they try to revive the school's astronomy club with their friends.

If I could just sum up the show in one word it would be silly. It's funny, cute, and whimsical like you'd expect what happens when you revolve around a mostly nerdy and/or awkward cast of teenagers. There are tons of goofy sound effects, cute music ("Tilt", the shows opening title sequence, is the best opening of any GL show I've watched this year), and we get all the classic teen rom-com tropes happening. Just gayer. It was cringey in some parts - mainly why I feel like I can only give this show a 9/10 - but inoffensive to me and I still really enjoyed it.

Ongsa: One of the strongest points this show has is that it has an excellent heroine - Ongsa is incredibly fun and relatable. Whether it's watching her spiral when she gets into something too deep, or fearing for her as she traps herself in an increasingly greater net of lies, she's entertaining and captivating and I found myself really rooting for her through it all. Her decisions feel real and even when she fucks up, you can't help but want to help her. She's kind, but incredibly scared and cowardly too. Milk is great at physical acting, it really makes Ongsa feel like this awkward, lanky teen that wishes nothing more than to have a quiet life but keeps getting into Situations™️. She's just a baby closeted lesbian stuck between her first romantic feelings and the pressure of everyday highschool life, and badly equipped to handle either of those things. Even though she has no idea what she's doing, ever, ultimately she decides to be better and admit that she needs to work on herself, for herself. Ongsa is one of my favourite protagonists of this year, and I think she really deserves it.

Sun: Much like her namesake, Sun is a ray of sunshine. She's popular, pretty, smart, and kind to everyone, not to forget confident and selfless. Also, she drives a cute yellow scooter. You immediately understand why Ongsa has a huge crush on her: she's the classic crush in any highschool rom-com. In the beginning, that's all we really see of her - the way Ongsa sees her through her rose-tinted glasses. But what really makes Sun interesting is what we see in the second half of the series. When things start to go wrong, Sun starts to really open up and becomes touchable. She's easily jealous, irritable, and a bit of a crybaby. Just like Ongsa, communication is hard for her (even if she is doing marginally better than Ongsa), but unlike Ongsa, she thinks she's straight. Seeing her start to put 2 and 2 together about her feelings towards Ongsa is wonderful to watch, and I could watch her little face of queer joy any day on my screen. Sun's side of the story is given just as much thought as Ongsa's is and I'm incredibly happy that we got to see it. She's just too damn cute!!

Side Characters: In my opinion, 23.5 especially shines in its supporting characters - and this is never more true than with Aylin. I think I'm not exaggerating when I say you should watch this show just for her, because she's the best character of the show. I off-handedly referred to her in my summary as Ongsa's "weird cousin" but Aylin honestly deserves an entire essay of her own - I love her so much. Aylin is alone, and she's alright with it. The only people she talks to is her family, and she refers to everyone simply as "human". Aylin is obsessed with finding aliens and spends all of her time with her gadgets trying to receive signals or crafting and researching in her room. She involuntarily gets dragged into Ongsa's love troubles as she becomes her confidant, and although Aylin is stand-off-ish at first she begins to really start caring about Ongsa and the others. What I like about Aylin is that her loner nature or strange hobbies aren't mocked or fixed by the show, she only expands into unfamiliar territories she was too scared or hurt to do before. She starts making friends, she starts sharing her interests, and she falls in love.

Other than Aylin, the most fleshed-out side character is Alpha, Ongsa's older sister. Her little arc of trying to take care of her sister and her younger cousin but also being frustrated at always being left in the dark was nice. Alpha's friends from the student council - Marwin, Ton, and Luna - are also fun, especially Luna, who gets her own sideplot as the first person to befriend Aylin. In Ongsa's class, we also have Tin and Charoen as her first friends at the new school, who quickly figure out that she likes Sun and support her. Each character is distinct and meshes well into the ensemble. And having so many fun characters together makes the show lively and feel real.

I could not leave this review without talking about the side couples. And we get 2 entirely separate sapphic sidestories, additional to OngsaSun's main story.

Nida, Ongsa's English teacher, and Bambam, who is the astronomy club's supervisor, have their own little romance when the kids are asleep. Although both of them are adults, the characters are goofy enough to still fit well into the show's tone - and they are just so stupid and CUTE. I was utterly obsessed with their scenes and I'm glad we got to see them. The actresses are also both trans, so to have a middle-aged, sapphic sideplot about two trans women was heavenly. I could watch a show just about them.

I could say the same thing about the other secondary romance plot, which revolves around Aylin and Luna. In a really interesting way, they are the mirror pair to Ongsa & Sun, fulfilling the Popular Girl X Weird Girl trope, but the dynamic is completely different. Seeing Luna claw her way into Aylin's heart and then have Aylin come out by herself and let Luna in all the way was just kind of a show-stealer. Whenever we got to the two of them, I got giddy. Not to bash OngsaSun in any way - but AylinLuna was my top pair of the show.

Visuals: 23.5 also looks great. The colors are nice, camerawork is good, and like I said, the opening title sequence is amazing also in visuals. It's the one I actually go back to watch and don't mind not skipping. The theme of the solar system, particularily for the Earth & Sun metaphors and the recurring alien theme give everything a nice framing and allows the characters to come together organically. I thought it was used pretty well. We've got so many space lesbians this year, man.

"Is it for me/you?" - Conclusion

Now I'm gonna be totally honest: I've been out of highschool and lost interest in highschool stories for a while, whether it's manga or dramas. I'm just not 17 anymore, and I don't need to revisit my own 17-y.o. drama via proxy. When 23.5 was recommended to me, I wasn't sure if I'd actually end up liking it. And don't get me wrong - although I'm not the target audience, that doesn't mean I don't love that shows like this exist. Quite the opposite actually. There always needs to be more queer stories told for all different kinds of demographics!

All that being said - I went in with low expectations and was blown away just how much I loved 23.5. It is so well made, characters are relatable and taken seriously by the narrative enough for everyone to enjoy, even if I don't have the problem of failing my classes anymore. While all things around highschool anxieties are discussed - your first love, first kiss, bullying, clique anxiety, and what you're going to do after graduating - and maybe that won't be relatable for you, I personally found it all packaged up nicely within the different stories of 23.5. Things like sex and homophobia don't really come up. So if you're looking for something spicier or more angsty, then I suggest you go looking elsewhere. For everyone who's on board though: I highly recommend giving 23.5 a try!

I've been extremely impressed with GMMTV's shows so far - I'm currently watching Pluto and impressed and obsessed with it - and so I'm already excited for Milk & Love's next projects together that have already been announced. 2025 is looking delicious, and I hope they can keep improving further. Until then, my time with 23.5 will remain in good memory.

Thanks for reading! Go enjoy watching, and if you do, leave me a message. Cheers!

^ me when I'm born swagless but forced to be a natural girlcharmer

[aspenmissing]

Heyy, so I know that this probably isn't a very good idea but is it possible for you to write the arcane characters (Jayce, Viktor, any arcane character you want) dating someone with scoliosis? Like the reader is insecure about the way they look and they comfort them? It will really mean a lot since I have scoliosis myself and I am really insecure about it (luckily, mine isn't a very serious case). If you don't feel comfortable writing something like this, it's totally okay, so feel free to ignore! Lots of love 💕

ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴘᴇ ᴏꜰ ʟᴏᴠᴇ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴍᴇʟʟ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ || 5565 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴄᴏʟɪᴏꜱɪꜱ ᴋɴᴏᴡʟᴇᴅɢᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴍᴇ, ꜱᴇʟꜰ-ᴄᴏɴꜱᴄɪᴏᴜꜱ, ᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴅ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴏɴᴇꜱᴇʟꜰ, ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴅɪꜱɢᴜꜱᴛ/ʜᴀᴛʀᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴏɴᴇꜱᴇʟꜰ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ! ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴋᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ᴡᴇʟʟ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴜᴛ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱᴄᴏʟɪᴏꜱɪꜱ. ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙʀɪɴɢꜱ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ! <3 <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴍᴇʟ

JAYCE

The soft glow of the hextech lanterns cast warm light over Piltover’s balcony, the city stretching below in a dazzling display of progress and innovation. The wind was cool against your skin as you leaned against the stone railing, arms wrapped around yourself in quiet thought. The hum of the city below was a constant rhythm, but up here, in the quiet seclusion of Jayce’s private terrace, it felt like the rest of the world was far away.

Jayce had taken you out for a private evening, just the two of you, away from the endless council meetings and the demands of his work. He had noticed you were quieter than usual, that the usual spark in your eyes had dimmed ever so slightly. He wasn’t one to pry, but he knew something was weighing on you.

“Hey,” his voice was soft, gentle, as he came up behind you, his arms circling around your waist, pressing you back against him. “You’ve been quiet tonight.”

You hesitated, staring down at your hands. “I guess I’ve just been thinking.”

He rested his chin lightly on your shoulder, his warmth seeping into you. “About?”

You swallowed hard, not wanting to ruin the evening. But Jayce wasn’t the type to let things slide when it came to you. “About… me. About how I look.”

You felt his brows furrow against your skin before he gently turned you in his arms, his deep brown eyes searching yours with nothing but concern. “What do you mean?”

A sigh left your lips as you looked away, ashamed. “You know,” you muttered, motioning vaguely to your body. “The way I stand, the way my spine curves. It—it’s not how people are supposed to look.”

Jayce’s eyes softened, and he reached for your hands, lacing his fingers through yours. “Who decides that?” he asked gently.

You scoffed, shaking your head. “The world, Jayce. People. I see how they look at me sometimes. Like I’m different. And I am.”

Jayce was silent for a moment before he let out a soft chuckle, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek. “You know what I see?”

You bit your lip, unsure if you wanted to know the answer.

“I see the strongest person I’ve ever met,” he said, his thumb brushing over your skin tenderly. “I see someone who walks through a world that can be cruel and still finds a way to be kind. I see someone who’s brilliant, and funny, and beautiful.” His voice dipped into something raw and real. “And I see the woman I love.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, but Jayce was already leaning in, pressing his forehead to yours. “I don’t care how your spine curves, or how people look at you. What I care about is you. You, being here with me, being you. And if I could make you see yourself the way I see you, you’d never doubt your worth again.”

You buried your face against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, letting it ground you. He rubbed slow, soothing circles against your back, his touch steady and reassuring. The moment stretched between you, filled with the unspoken promise that he would always be there, that his love for you wasn’t bound by appearances or fleeting perceptions.

“I mean it,” he murmured against your hair, pressing a soft kiss there. “You are beautiful to me, in every way. Not despite anything, but because you are you.”

You let his words sink in, let them settle into the parts of you that had always held doubt, always carried the weight of others' stares and whispered judgments. With Jayce, you weren’t different in a way that isolated you—you were different in a way that made you special, irreplaceable.

“Do you know how much I admire you?” he continued, his voice laced with something deeper, something more vulnerable. “You’ve faced things I can’t even begin to imagine. And you’re still here, still fighting. That’s strength, Y/N. That’s something not everyone has.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, but before it could fall, Jayce caught it with his thumb, brushing it away with the same tenderness he always handled you with. “You make my life better just by being in it,” he whispered. “Never forget that.”

The wind swept around you both, but Jayce’s warmth never wavered. He held you as long as you needed, until the weight on your chest didn’t feel quite as suffocating, until the whispers of doubt in your mind were replaced by the steady, unwavering truth of his love.

And as you stood there, wrapped in his warmth, the weight of your insecurities felt just a little bit lighter, as if, for the first time in a long time, you could see yourself through his eyes.

VIKTOR

The soft hum of Zaun’s machinery filled the air, a quiet backdrop to the dimly lit workshop where Viktor sat, meticulously tinkering with a new prototype. His cane rested against the workbench, always within reach, a silent companion as ever. Across from him, you stood, arms crossed tightly over your chest, gaze flickering to the glass reflection of yourself in the corner.

You hated your posture. The uneven curve of your spine, the way your body never quite aligned the way others did—it gnawed at you. Most days, you could push the thoughts aside, pretend you didn’t notice the slight tilt in your stance or the way your clothes never fit quite right. But today, it felt impossible to ignore.

Viktor must have sensed it. He always did. His keen amber eyes flicked up from his work, studying you for a moment before setting his tools aside.

“Y/N,” he called softly, tilting his head. “Something troubles you.”

You hesitated, unsure of whether you wanted to voice the thoughts swirling in your mind. But his expression held nothing but patience and warmth, urging you forward.

“I just…” You exhaled heavily, rubbing your arm. “I don’t like how I look. My back, my posture—it’s… wrong. And I hate it.”

Silence hung between you for a moment, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Viktor was merely considering his words, the way he always did. Slowly, he pushed himself up from his chair, reaching for his cane before limping toward you with steady steps.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice a warm murmur, “I never expected to be particularly fond of my own form either.” He tapped his cane lightly against the ground, his lips quirking in a small, self-aware smile. “And yet, here I am.”

Your heart clenched at that. “That’s different. You—”

“I am no different from you, můj drahý.” He lifted a gentle hand to your chin, urging you to meet his gaze. “There is no right or wrong way to exist in the world. We are shaped by the paths we walk, by the struggles we endure. If anything, I think…” He paused, eyes flickering over you in quiet admiration. “I think you are remarkable.” (My Dear)

Your breath hitched, but he wasn’t done.

“I would not change a single thing about you,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “And if you could see yourself the way I see you, you wouldn’t either.”

A lump formed in your throat, and you blinked rapidly to clear the sudden burn behind your eyes. Viktor always had a way of speaking that made the impossible seem tangible, that made your deepest insecurities feel small and insignificant in the warmth of his affection.

You swallowed thickly. “You really think so?”

His smile softened. “I know so.”

The tension in your shoulders eased, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him. Viktor stiffened for only a moment before melting into you, his free hand coming up to rest at the small of your back, his grip firm yet comforting.

“You are more than your reflection, Y/N,” he murmured into your hair. “You are brilliant, strong, and undeniably beautiful.”

Viktor pulled back slightly, just enough to press a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering there as if embedding his words into your very being. His touch was gentle yet reassuring, as if he wished he could take all your doubts away with a simple embrace.

“You have a mind that shines brighter than any star,” he continued, his voice a quiet melody against the hum of machinery. “A heart so full of kindness that it makes this world a better place.”

A faint smile curled your lips at his words, the warmth of his presence easing the tension that had sat heavy in your chest all day. Viktor never offered empty words—he spoke only truths, and in that moment, you wanted to hold onto them.

As if sensing your lingering thoughts, Viktor gently guided you to sit beside him. “Let me show you something,” he murmured, reaching for one of his blueprints on the table. He unrolled it, revealing a design unlike anything you’d seen before. “A new project. Inspired by resilience… and by you.”

Your eyes widened as you traced the lines with your fingers, feeling the weight of his admiration in every stroke. “You designed this… for me?”

“Of course.” Viktor smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “You inspire me, Y/N. Every single day.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but this time, they weren’t from insecurity. They were from the overwhelming warmth of being seen, truly seen, by someone who cherished you just as you were.

And for the first time in a long while, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you were enough.

JAYVIK

The soft hum of Hextech energy filled the dimly lit laboratory, the glow from the arcane crystals casting a gentle shimmer across the cluttered workbenches. The air carried the familiar scent of burning metal and ozone, a sign of countless hours spent refining their latest creation. The lab had always felt like a second home—warm, filled with ideas and dreams given shape through the hands of two brilliant minds. And yet, tonight, none of that mattered.

Viktor sat at one of the benches, deep in thought, his golden eyes flickering with the soft blue light of the glowing crystals. He absentmindedly twirled a small tool between his fingers, a rare sign of distraction for the meticulous inventor. Jayce, standing nearby, arms crossed over his broad chest, wasn’t much better. His normally confident posture was slouched, his thoughts elsewhere as he stole glances at you.

You sat curled into yourself on one of the lab’s stools, arms wrapped around your middle, your shoulders hunched as though trying to make yourself smaller. Your gaze was locked on the floor, unwilling—or perhaps unable—to meet their eyes.

Tonight was one of those nights.

The weight of your scoliosis had always been a silent burden, one you carried alone even in the presence of those who loved you most. The uneven curve of your spine, the way it subtly altered your posture, the way clothes never quite sat right. It wasn’t the pain that got to you, though that was ever-present; it was the way it made you feel… different. As if your body was a puzzle assembled incorrectly, leaving gaps and misalignments where there should have been smooth, natural order. Some days, you could shove those thoughts away, bury them beneath distractions and reassurances.

But then there were nights like this, where the mirror felt cruel and your reflection was an enemy rather than a friend.

Jayce noticed first. He always did.

“Y/N?” His voice was softer than usual, warm and laced with concern. He took a careful step forward before crouching slightly to meet your lowered gaze. His large hand rested gently on your shoulder, the warmth of his palm grounding. “You okay?”

You hesitated, fingers tightening against the fabric of your sleeve. The words were thick in your throat, reluctant to escape. But the way Jayce’s brows knit together, the way Viktor’s amber gaze was already scanning your expression with quiet understanding, made it impossible to lie.

“I just… I feel gross,” you admitted, voice barely more than a whisper. “I hate the way I look. The way I sit, the way I stand—it’s just… ugly.”

Jayce’s grip on you tightened for a fraction of a second before he released a careful breath.

Behind him, Viktor had set his tool down without a word. The soft clink of metal on wood was barely audible, but it carried weight. When he moved, it was slow, deliberate—the sound of his cane tapping against the floor filling the quiet air as he stood. His expression, though often difficult to read, was unmistakably soft.

“Ugly?” he repeated, as if the word itself was a foreign concept when associated with you. He tilted his head, studying you as if you had just uttered something wholly illogical. “That is an interesting way to describe something so… uniquely beautiful.”

Your face heated, shame creeping in, but you shook your head. “You don’t have to say that.”

“I do not say things unless I mean them,” Viktor countered simply, his voice firm in its conviction. He leaned against his cane as he approached, the rhythmic tap filling the space between you. “Your spine curves differently, yes. But it is still yours. It carries you forward, allows you to stand, to move, to be. Do you think that makes you any less worthy?”

Your lip trembled, and you swallowed hard, unable to respond.

Jayce, still crouched in front of you, let his hands slide down your arms before gently taking your hands in his. He rubbed slow, soothing circles into your skin, as if willing you to believe the words neither of them would ever stop saying.

“Y/N, you are not defined by how straight your back is, or how perfect you think you should look.” His voice was softer now, more intimate, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the moment. “You’re you. And that’s what we love.”

Your throat tightened, emotions swirling painfully in your chest.

“But I don’t feel beautiful,” you admitted, voice cracking.

Viktor let out a small sigh before leaning down slightly, using two fingers to tilt your chin up so you would meet his gaze. His touch was gentle but insistent, his thumb brushing over your cheek with surprising tenderness. “Then allow us to remind you.”

Jayce smiled, that warm, reassuring grin that had always made you feel like you were standing in the sun. He pulled you into a firm, grounding hug, his broad arms wrapping around you with unwavering strength. His warmth was all-encompassing, strong but careful, as if he knew exactly how much comfort you needed. You could feel his heartbeat against your cheek, steady and grounding, a silent promise that he was there.

Viktor, ever the more reserved one, placed a hand on your back, his touch feather-light yet deliberate as he traced soothing patterns along the path of your spine. His fingers ghosted over the uneven ridges, and yet there was no hesitation, no disgust—only reverence. “Perfection is a flawed concept,” he murmured against your hair, his voice thoughtful, quiet. “Even I, the great inventor, am not without my imperfections.” He tapped his cane lightly for emphasis, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “And yet, you have never once looked at me and seen anything but who I am. So why should I not do the same for you?”

Tears welled in your eyes, not from sadness, but from the overwhelming love surrounding you.

Jayce chuckled softly, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “You are beautiful, Y/N. Every part of you. And we’ll keep telling you that for as long as you need to hear it.”

Your walls crumbled under their warmth, and you exhaled shakily, allowing yourself to sink into them, to trust in their words. “I love you both,” you whispered, voice thick with emotion.

Viktor chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “And we love you. Very much.”

Jayce gave you a playful squeeze, his lips curling into that familiar, boyish grin. “More than anything.”

The weight of your insecurities hadn’t vanished entirely. They wouldn’t disappear overnight, nor in a week, nor perhaps even in a lifetime. But right now, wrapped in the embrace of two of the greatest minds in Piltover—two men who loved you so fiercely and unconditionally—you felt lighter.

Maybe, just maybe, you could start believing in yourself again.

VANDER

The evening air in the Undercity was thick with the scent of roasted meat and damp stone, the comforting hum of the Last Drop filling the space like a lullaby. Vander stood behind the bar, cleaning a glass absentmindedly, but his sharp eyes were on you.

You sat at a far corner of the tavern, shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around yourself, trying to make yourself smaller. It had been a rough day. You'd caught your reflection in one of the dusty mirrors in the back room and all you could see was the way your back curved unnaturally, the way your shoulders never quite lined up right. It was a reminder you couldn’t escape, no matter how much you tried to ignore it.

Vander noticed. He always did.

He set down the glass and moved toward you, his heavy boots making soft thuds against the wooden floor. When he reached you, he placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch warm and grounding.

"C'mere, love," he murmured, coaxing you into standing. He led you away from the prying eyes of the tavern-goers and up the stairs to the quieter part of the building.

Once you were in the privacy of his room, Vander turned to you, arms crossed but gaze soft. "Talk to me."

You hesitated, chewing your lip, before letting out a shaky breath. "I just... I don’t like how I look, Vander. My back, the way it twists—it makes me feel... wrong. Like I don’t belong in my own body."

His expression tightened, his jaw clenching for a moment before he stepped forward, wrapping you in his arms. His embrace was firm, solid, the kind that made you feel safe even when your own thoughts threatened to drown you.

"Now, that’s nonsense," he rumbled, his chin resting atop your head. "You think a curve in your spine changes who you are? 'Cause I don’t. I see the same woman who’s strong enough to put up with my stubborn ass. The same woman who keeps the kids in line when I can’t. The one who makes this place feel more like home."

You closed your eyes, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, his warmth seeping into you like a grounding force. Vander gently ran his hand up and down your back, his touch slow and deliberate, never pressing too hard, just enough to remind you he was there.

"I know it’s hard, love," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I know how easy it is to get caught up in what you think is wrong with you. But I need you to understand something—none of that matters to me. You are beautiful just as you are. Always have been. Always will be."

Your breath hitched, and you clutched at his shirt, burying your face against his chest. "I just feel so different," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

He sighed softly, tucking his fingers under your chin to tilt your face up. "Different ain't bad, love. Different makes you you. And I wouldn’t want you any other way."

He pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that was tender, reassuring, filled with unspoken promises. When he pulled back, he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, offering a small smile. "You're mine, Y/N. And I’ll remind you every damn day if I have to."

His large hands moved down your arms, fingers grazing over your wrists before taking your hands in his own. "Let me show you something," he whispered, leading you to the small mirror on the dresser. "Look at yourself the way I do. Not for the things you pick apart, but for the strength in your eyes, the kindness in your heart. The way you fight, the way you love." He rested his chin on your shoulder, arms encircling your waist, his breath warm against your ear. "This is the woman I fell for. And I’ll love you just like this, always."

Tears welled in your eyes at his words, but before you could respond, there was a knock at the door, followed by Vi’s voice. "Uh, Vander? Y/N? Can we come in?"

Vander sighed but didn’t let go of you. "Yeah, come on."

The door creaked open, revealing Vi, Powder, Claggor, and Mylo, all standing awkwardly like they had overheard more than they meant to. Powder hesitated for only a second before rushing forward to hug your waist. "We don’t care what you look like, Y/N. You’re perfect how you are."

Vi rolled her eyes but smirked. "Yeah. Plus, if anyone says different, we’ll just punch ‘em."

"Or trip ‘em into a gutter," Mylo added with a grin.

Claggor nodded. "We got your back, Y/N."

Vi moved closer, placing a firm but gentle hand on your shoulder. "You think we care about all that? You’re family. That’s what matters."

A laugh bubbled up in your throat despite the tightness in your chest, and you wiped at your eyes. Vander pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"See, love? You’re surrounded by people who love you. No matter what."

Powder gave you an extra squeeze, and Claggor clapped you on the back, his warmth solid and reassuring. Even Mylo, despite his usual sarcastic edge, gave you a nod of understanding.

For the first time that day, you believed him.

SILCO

The dim glow of Zaun’s skyline flickered through the high windows of Silco’s office, casting elongated shadows across the floor. The air was thick with the scent of cigar smoke and the faint, ever-present tang of shimmer. The rhythmic scratching of pen on paper filled the silence, punctuated only by the occasional shift of rustling documents. Silco’s mismatched eyes remained focused on the reports before him, scanning over numbers, territories, and shipments.

And then there was her.

Y/N sat curled up on the worn-out couch by the wall, arms wrapped around herself, gaze locked onto the floor. The dim lighting swallowed her whole, leaving her to blend into the cracks and folds of the room, just as she often wished she could. The weight of her insecurities pressed against her chest like an anchor, heavy and relentless.

She was good at keeping it to herself. Had been for years. But he noticed.

Of course, he did.

Silco saw everything. The way she tugged at the hem of her sleeves as if she could shrink herself away. The way she shifted awkwardly every time she moved, subtly adjusting her posture as though she were trying to compensate for something unseen. The way her jaw clenched whenever her reflection flickered in the grimy windowpane, her gaze darting away as if she couldn’t stand to look at herself.

It was a quiet sort of self-loathing, the kind that had settled into her bones long before she met him.

Silco leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled together. His sharp eyes studied her with an intensity that made lesser men cower.

“Y/N.”

His voice was low, firm—always a command rather than a question. It sliced through the silence like a blade, unyielding and impossible to ignore.

She flinched slightly but turned her head towards him, forcing a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah?”

Silco set down his pen with deliberate slowness, his hands folding together as he leaned forward on his desk. “Come here.”

She hesitated, but there was no disobeying that voice. It wasn’t a demand in the way he handled his subordinates or enemies, but something quieter. Something that left no room for refusal.

Pushing herself up, she made her way over, her steps cautious, uncertain. She hated how awkward she felt under his gaze, how she could feel the difference in how she carried herself compared to others.

Silco studied her as she stood before him, his eyes flickering over her posture, the tension wound tight in her frame.

“Sit,” he murmured, patting his lap.

Her stomach twisted. “Silco, I—”

“I won’t ask again.”

A beat of silence. Then, slowly, she lowered herself onto his lap, still tense, still holding herself in that way that made his chest ache. His arms wrapped around her with ease, securing her in a way that felt more like an unspoken promise than a simple embrace.

His fingers began tracing slow, thoughtful patterns along her arm, grounding her. “What’s wrong?” His voice had softened, but the command still lingered beneath it.

She exhaled sharply. “It’s nothing.”

Silco hummed in displeasure, his touch continuing its steady rhythm. “Try again.”

Y/N swallowed hard, a lump forming in her throat faster than she would have liked. She hated feeling like this—hated the way her thoughts twisted in on themselves, gnawing at her from the inside out. Hated how the curve of her spine made her posture look unnatural, how uneven her body felt in clothes, how—

Her breath hitched, and she curled in on herself even more.

“I just…” she whispered, voice barely audible over the distant hum of Zaun. “I don’t like the way I look.”

Silco stilled. His grip on her didn’t falter, but there was something unreadable in his expression. A quiet fury—not at her, but at the world, at whoever or whatever had planted this seed of doubt so deeply in her.

Carefully, he shifted her, guiding her so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. His mismatched eyes—so full of fire and steel for others—held nothing but warmth for her.

“Who told you that?” he asked, though there was an edge to his voice, something dangerous lurking beneath the surface.

Y/N bit her lip. “No one—”

“Don’t lie to me.” His fingers trailed up her spine, barely grazing the places she tried so hard to hide, before settling at the back of her neck. His thumb traced slow, deliberate circles, grounding her.

Her silence was all the confirmation he needed.

Silco’s expression darkened, and his grip on her waist tightened just slightly. “Tell me their names.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Silco—”

“Did someone say something?” His tone was dangerously calm. “Someone mocked you? Stared too long? Made you feel less than what you are?”

She swallowed. “It’s not like that—”

“Then what is it like?” His free hand tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him fully. “Because from where I’m sitting, my love, you’re wound so tight over something that is not a flaw.”

Her breath stuttered. “It is, though,” she whispered. “I see it in the mirror every day. It’s not normal, it’s—”

“It’s you.” His grip softened, fingers trailing along her back again, tracing the curve of her spine with the same care he reserved for his most prized possessions. “And I do not tolerate the woman I love speaking about herself with such disgust.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

“I will ask one last time,” Silco continued, voice dropping even lower. “If anyone has said something—anything—do you want me to get rid of them?”

Y/N huffed out something between a laugh and a sigh. “Gods, Silco, you can’t just ‘get rid’ of people every time I feel bad about myself.”

He arched a brow. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Hm.” He didn’t look fully convinced.

Y/N sighed, leaning into him despite herself. “I just… I don’t know how to stop feeling like this.”

Silco’s hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin as his eyes bore into hers. “Then I will make sure you remember,” he murmured, voice softer now, yet no less firm. “Every time you doubt yourself. Every time you feel small. I will remind you.”

He leaned in, lips grazing her forehead, then her temple. “There is no one in this city—Piltover or Zaun—who could ever measure up to you in my eyes.”

Y/N closed her eyes, melting into the comfort of his words, into the way he held her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

His fingers continued their slow path along her spine, as though tracing the parts of her that she tried so hard to hide, mapping them like sacred ground.

“You are perfect,” Silco murmured against her skin, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “And I will not hear another word about it.”

Maybe, just maybe, she could start believing him.

MEL

The golden glow of the late afternoon sun spilled into Mel’s opulent chambers, casting long, dappled shadows across the silk sheets. The scent of jasmine and honey lingered in the air, mixing with the faint hint of parchment and ink from the scattered documents on her desk. Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, running her fingers over the fabric of her dress, her thoughts a tangled mess of doubt and self-consciousness. Her spine, curved by scoliosis, made her posture uneven, something she had spent years trying to ignore. But standing beside someone like Mel Medarda—graceful, powerful, stunning—made it impossible not to notice.

She wrapped her arms around herself, staring at the grand paintings that adorned the walls, their gilded frames a stark contrast to the way she felt inside. The ache in her back was nothing compared to the ache in her heart. How could someone like Mel, who could have anyone, choose her?

“Why do you love me?” The words slipped from her lips before she could stop them, quiet and unsteady.

Mel, seated at her vanity, stopped mid-brushstroke through her dark curls and turned, golden eyes softening. “What kind of question is that?” she asked, a small smile playing at her lips as she rose and crossed the room, her movements smooth and deliberate, like an artist adding the final stroke to a masterpiece.

Y/N exhaled sharply, staring down at her hands. “Just… look at you. You’re flawless. And then there’s me.” She gestured vaguely at herself, frustration bubbling beneath her skin. “I don’t stand like you. I don’t move like you. I look—”

“Like the woman I love,” Mel interrupted gently, kneeling before her. She took Y/N’s hands in her own, her thumbs tracing soft circles against her skin. “You see flaws where I see beauty.”

Y/N scoffed, but Mel remained patient, tilting her head. “I know how you look at yourself, how you shrink away when you think I’m watching,” she murmured. “But Y/N, you don’t have to fit into some illusion of perfection to be worthy of love.”

Tears pricked Y/N’s eyes. “You could have anyone, Mel. Someone who… stands straight. Someone who doesn’t have to wear certain clothes to hide how her back curves.”

Mel frowned, her hands firm around Y/N’s. “You think that matters to me? Do you think I love you for the way you look?” She leaned closer, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s knuckles before guiding her hand up to rest against her chest, over her heart. “This is why I love you. Your mind, your kindness, your strength. The way you challenge me, the way you see the world.”

Y/N swallowed past the lump in her throat. “But I don’t feel beautiful next to you.”

Mel’s lips quirked upward, but there was no teasing in her gaze, only deep, unwavering affection. “Then let me remind you.”

She reached out, her fingers brushing along Y/N’s jaw, her touch feather-light as she traced down her neck, over her shoulder, down her arm. “This body,” she murmured, “has carried you through every hardship, every triumph. It holds the heart that loves me so fiercely. How could I not adore it?”

Y/N’s breath hitched as Mel pressed a tender kiss to her shoulder, then another along her collarbone. “You don’t have to compare yourself to me, my love. You are extraordinary in your own way.”

She guided Y/N to stand, her hands framing Y/N’s face with reverence, her thumbs brushing away the unshed tears. “Do you know what I see when I look at you?” Mel whispered. “I see someone who has endured. Someone who has carried the weight of the world on her shoulders and still stands. You are breath-taking, not because you look like me, but because you are you.”

Y/N closed her eyes, letting herself melt into Mel’s touch, into her words. The warmth of Mel’s embrace seeped into her bones, chasing away the chill of self-doubt. Maybe, just maybe, she could start believing them.

Mel pressed another lingering kiss to her forehead before drawing her into a slow, steady dance, swaying to a rhythm only they could hear. “You don’t have to hide from me, my dove. You never have to hide.”

Y/N let out a shaky breath, resting her head against Mel’s shoulder, and for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to believe she was enough.

[sorcerersseestars]

LIMERENCE IV

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

series masterlist

chapter summary: You have a much needed heart to heart with the strongest.

warnings: mentions of death and injury, mention of major character death, slightly suggestive content (16+)

content: hurt/comfort, reverse hurt/comfort, fluff, slight cringe?

word count: 9k

I recommend rereading the previous chapter(s) because even I forgot some details...1000000% my bad for not finishing this up sooner. (More on this in notes at the end).

Okay I'd say the romantic scenes are like...16+? just to give it a rating. But lowkey some YA novels I read in middle/early high school were a lot more 'racey' than this hahah.

It’s dark, darker than the back of your eyelids. It’s silent. You can’t even hear the buzz of your thoughts—as if your mind is reflecting the emptiness in front of it. The blackness before you—the void, you suppose—is all you can see, hear, touch. Or maybe it’s that there is the absence of these senses—there is only darkness, only nothingness.

You can’t think, only observe, so when a bright light inundates your senses, sears itself into the back of your brain, you don’t gasp or feel fear. There is nothing to do but to take in the light, to be drawn to it like a moth to a flame, and accept whatever it brings you.

Memories pour over you as you are blinded by the light, dripping into crevices of your mind that you forgot existed. It’s almost painful, this influx of distant memories and feelings, rhythmic waves which crash into you over and over again.

All you can pick out of these memories as they spill into your brain all at once is a pair of luminescent eyes—they burn brighter than you ever realized. They follow your form more than you remember. Even behind shades, you can feel the intensity of them on your body. You sneak glances at them at every turn and get lost in them even when he isn’t facing you. You never knew how obvious you both were.

You never realized how much emotion he held in his gaze. He knew all the time, and yet you were clueless about your own feelings until just months ago. How ironic, how cruel...

Your eyes fly open. Reality slowly fills your senses. There's a gentle brush of wind from the open window; you scrunch your nose as strands of your hair tickle your face. When you look down, your gaze is drawn to the wash of orange and peach on the comforter cast from the dying sun. You're warm—cozy, even. You feel comfortable and safe—safer than you’ve felt in a long time, a feeling that blankets you with warmth and coaxes a smile out of you.

You blink blearily, sleep sticking to your eyes despite your attempt to rub the crud away. The ceiling finally comes into focus, and you vaguely recognize that it doesn't look like your own.

"Finally awake, sweets?"

For a second, you're startled by the inrush of sound and words, but then your brain catches up. The voice carries that familiar teasing lilt, that smirk that even comes through in his voice, the words rounded with softness just for you, it must be—

Your eyes go wide as you scramble up. "Satoru!"

"So I really didn't have to kiss you for you to wake up? Boooo! All those fairy tales are a real drag, lying to me like that."

Your gaze goes straight to him, taking in his appearance with a quiet desperation. Many dormant thoughts from right before you lost consciousness surge back into your mind: he had been harmed while trying to escape with you? Was he distressed by what happened? Was it all too much for him?

But, to your observation, he looks as he always does. There's no sign of injury or emotional distress. You should've known, really; with everything he's gone through in his life, he isn't easily affected. Or at least, not outwardly. His little smirk, his tousled hair, his lax demeanor—from a quick glance, he's the same as always. He doesn't appear worried or stressed with his easy expression—you don't know if you should be relieved or unnerved by that. Is what you see the truth or just a façade?

He has a chair pulled up to your bedside—taken from the desk on the other side of the room, you note—and he sits relaxed in it. He sinks into the chair lazily and he has one leg crossed over the other.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” He sing-songs. “Or should I say good evening?”

He shifts slightly, now resting his jaw in one open hand, which outlines his sharp jawline. His head is tilted to the side, making him appear almost coy. It must be a ruse, of course—when did Gojo Satoru ever feel shy?

Seeing as it's only him and you're in no danger, you huff out in relief, "You startled me!"

"Did I? Sorry." He chuckles, even though he doesn't sound particularly sorry. It's then that you notice he's wearing his bandages again. The white strips conceal his expressive eyes and all the emotions they could possibly contain. A hazy flash of his eyes spilling with tears crosses your mind, leaving you to wonder if that was reality or just your imagination. Your memories are fuzzy, lacking clarity that would reveal the truth.

Observing him now, it almost seems impossible that he could have cried like that for you. He appears so normal that it's almost frightening. With his practiced and controlled body language, you're only able to wonder at what he's feeling.

You want to ask him so many questions, but they all feel trapped inside your chest. There's so much that you don't know—there are so many things that could have happened after you lost consciousness. With how deceptively easy his smile is, you hesitate. Or maybe it's because, deep down, you don't want to know the answers.

But you should. You should know. No, you need to know, if the monstrous, looming question needling your brain and heart means anything. If you don't get this question out, the hurt and uncertainty will only fester.

"What happened with Suguru?"

His smile evens out slowly, expression morphing into something solemn and unreadable.

"Always asking the difficult questions first..." He says, tone ambiguous and revealing close to nothing. "You just woke up. Why don't we... talk about something else? I promise we'll get to everything later. Just give it some time—Shoko said you should try to take it easy when you first wake up."

There's a painful lump in your throat. You want to argue that can't possibly be what she meant, but when the room starts to spin, blurring in your peripherals, you find he might have a point. Besides, there's the reality that it's easier not to know, that you don't want to know.

"How do you feel?" He asks, as if sensing your inner turmoil, but you don't know if he's referring to your physical or mental state.

Without the answer to your question, you're okay. It's strange, but you don't feel scared despite what happened. If anything, you feel lighter and happier than you have in a long time. He's here, after all. And so you relent easily, with little resistance. You'll play in the world of pretend for a bit if it means he'll smile, if it means you'll feel okay.

"I'm fine," You say honestly, with a small smile. "Just a bit sore, if anything."

When you're met with silence, you glance over at him, noticing that his serious look has not faded. Maybe you weren't so convincing. You quickly redirect your attention to your surroundings, not wanting to be caught in your thoughts.

“Isn’t this…” You take in the room, ignoring how sore and tired your eyes are. “Your place?”

Now that you're sat up, you recognize it immediately, even with its less than distinct features. His room is plain, plainer than most would anticipate. For someone so loaded, his bedroom screams basic minimalist—white with black accents, just a few pieces of furniture, and muted decor. It’s nice, because of course it is with his budget, but not over the top like his personality would suggest.

“Hah, you noticed, huh? Perceptive as always, angel,” He says with a hint of playful sarcasm, and you’re surprised when the teasing quality disappears and his tone turns meek. “You haven’t been here in a while, wasn’t sure if…”

He trails off, laughing oddly, some real emotion leaking out. He almost seems nervous.

“If I’d remember? What, do you think I’m a goldfish or something?” You roll your eyes playfully. “Satoru, I’ve been here many times. Even though I haven’t been here in a while, that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t remember.”

“Don't get your panties in a twist! Of course I knew you'd remember! I was just kidding," He claims, but he seems relieved.

"Hmm, sure," You say with narrowed eyes. "By the way, why am I here? Not that I mind or anything, but..."

"Ah. You mean instead of your apartment?"

"Or the infirmary," You add.

"Well, you were in the infirmary. Then you got better and Shoko needed an extra bed, so she kicked us out. And as for your apartment...it isn't in any condition to be lived in for now."

You frown and whine, "Hey! I'm not that messy!"

He hangs his head and sighs, "Angel, that's really not what I meant. There are other things that need to be cleaned up there."

"Oh," You say, finally remembering the gruesome scene you must have left.

"Yeah. 'Oh'," He mimics back.

He almost seems annoyed—at what, you can't be sure. The fact that you forgot or the fact that it happened? Or was it that you kept it all a secret for so long?

You shake your head slightly as if to rid yourself of these unpleasant thoughts. Then you process some of his words from earlier, displacing the negative thoughts.

"Wait, wait. What do you mean Shoko kicked 'us' out?"

He scratches his head sheepishly. "Did I say that? I meant you. Haha..."

You chuckle and slap your leg, thoroughly amused by the scenario you're picturing. "I see what happened here! Shoko got annoyed that you were hanging around all day today and needed some way to get rid of you. She literally sent you home, didn't she?

There's a pause. He looks down at his hands and lets out a small, breathy laugh. There's something sharp about it, bitter perhaps. His fingers are twitching. His reaction jars you slightly, veering from the upbeat, nonchalant character he's kept up so far.

"Today, huh?" He murmurs under his breath, too soft for you to pick up. Then he speaks loud enough for you to hear, "Something like that."

His words aren't too far off what they usually are, but his smile and light tone have been washed away.

"Did I say something wrong?" You ask carefully. "Is everything okay?"

He barks out a laugh right away. It's a harsher sound than it usually would be, full of disbelief as if he couldn't believe you just asked him that.

"After everything you just went through, you're asking me if everything's okay?"

You hesitate but persist. "...Yes? Can I not ask?"

He exhales loudly, his frustration and concern boiling over. His expression is neutral, but you don't miss the hard set in his jaw or the way he twitches from the tension of steeling his expression. His face hardens as if he's trying to hold back, but it doesn't last much long. As you closely watch his expression, you see the hairline fractures in his mask begin to spiderweb into something irreparable, to reveal a part of himself he can't take back. His heart is on his sleeve, and you greedily take it all in.

"You can, but— you seem fine and it's confusing me. I'm supposed to be strong for you and just get over it, but I can't see past the fact that I still don't understand what the fuck is going on. Everyone except Shoko was acting like everything was fine and normal before but now it— it's like they're not even surprised. How is it that I'm the most shocked? Even you, who this happened to..."

As he speaks, his words get more agitated and emotion seeps into his voice. He trails off at the end, leaving you to wonder what exactly he thinks of your reaction.

"You...feel that way?" You ask honestly, surprised by his admission. Based on his appearance and how he carries himself, most would be shocked. And even though you suspected something was brewing underneath his carefully crafted mask, even you didn't anticipate this.

"Yes! I just...this is strange, everything is. And even though it all happened to you, you're acting so okay and have been since I first saw you again. Do you know how much I—"

He takes a sharp breath as his emotions boil his insides. His throat tightens and the next words don't come out, won't come out, even though he wants to articulate how he's been driven mad with worry for you, that he's been falling apart while your life hung in the balance of fate. And yet he can't; the words won't come.

You dip your head in shame. It's not difficult to fill in the words he might have said, but you don't attempt to.

"Well, I guess it's like...I've been living like this for a while. But you only just learned of my Hanahaki disease and had to deal with it right away," You explain quietly. "I've had a while to process it, y'know? But for you, of course it would be hard to believe..."

While you speak, his face twitches as he reacts to your words, hardening and then grimacing. He sets his mouth in a firm line before he speaks.

"It's not just that. You've been sitting on so many secrets and I had absolutely no idea about any of them. And hell, based on my actions it seems like I didn't care to know, and I hate that. I can't be upset with you, and I'm not, but- just the entire situation...I can't stop feeling so...frustrated."

"...I understand," You say softly. "It wasn't right of me to hide it for so long...and if it had ended any differently, you'd be burdened with guilt even though it wouldn't have been your fault. Obviously, I was not in the right state of mind, but that doesn't make it right."

"That's not what I mean. You had every right to do what you did. I don't blame you," He says, then sighs. "Honestly, I've...been thinking. A lot."

Your heart drops. His tone is different than you've ever heard before. There's some mysterious emotion you detect but can't identify, and your mind starts to run wild to diagnose it. Is it irritation? Doubt? Regret?

"Thinking?" You echo back nervously. "That's dangerous for you."

Your joke falls flat; it doesn't so much as coax a smile or even an acknowledgement from him. That only makes you more nervous.

"I've been thinking about how this all happened, how fucked up it is that it was able to happen. I never imagined this situation, not in a million years. I've spent so long running from my feelings that I never imagined we’d reach this point. But how it happened..."

His meaning sinks in, even though he only alludes to your shared confession, as if it would burn him to speak those words again. You understand what he means: right now, you should both be happy. You both confessed after years of misunderstanding and yearning. But when you look to him, scouring his face for answers, all you can notice are the down-turned corners of his mouth. He doesn't look happy.

You think back to previous disagreements you’ve had. No matter what was said, it always ended up the same: his back facing you, his form receding into the distance. You were always able to eventually pull him back to you, but the image of his back has never left your mind. Is this the time where you lose your grip on your tie to him, the time where he finally disappears into the horizon?

Your thoughts bleed into your mouth without permission.

“Are you walking away?” You ask quietly before you can stop yourself.

“What?”

The word is pushed out of his lungs with so much speed and air that he has to take a breath immediately after. It has a sharp edge of something akin to anger, which you did not expect.

Suddenly, you feel very silly. You realize you just jumped to massive conclusions, because of course you have. You know this, you know you're not being rational, and yet your doubt persists.

You stutter, scrambling for words that seem to vanish just as you think them.

“You seem– I mean, what you just said...I’m sorry, I don’t know, it's just…you seem so hesitant and conflicted. It should have been a moment happy, right? But it was all fucked up and was forced on you...if you didn't do what you did, I would have–agh, fuck. I know I’m probably being stupid, but…if you’ve changed your mind, I-I can live with that—actually, no, that’s a lie, this whole situation proved I can’t—”

A choked laugh escapes between the fingers you’ve thrown to your mouth. It’s ridiculous how you’re laughing about your mortality—your life that was hanging on by a thread, a thread that was somehow woven back into existence.

“I mean I can’t change how you feel, obviously, and if you want to walk away then I can’t stop you, I’ll leave you with a nice bouquet at least—”

You hesitantly move your gaze over to him. He’s pale and his hands grip the sides of the chair tightly.

“Sorry.” You whisper out once you see his expression.

You thought he might find some humor in it—after all, he is practically the king of levity. Almost any situation that should be taken seriously and treated carefully and with respect is disregarded by him. And yet there is not a hint of a smile on his face now; you were sorely wrong in your assumption.

“No more of those," He shakes his head as he speaks, as if that will wipe away the images of your near lifeless body from his mind. "Please no more. To be honest…it really destroyed me, to see you like that.”

His words shake you to your core, alarm vibrating through your body. It destroyed him?

Your brain begins to connect dots you don't want to connect: the purpose of inducing your illness...the purpose of using you as bait. If seeing you like that almost broke him, was that the purpose?

You brush away these horrifying thoughts as best as you can, trying to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. You don't want to know, you don't want to know. You're suddenly grateful that Gojo didn't answer your question earlier.

So you sit silently as your features scrunch with guilt. To hear him practically beg you tugs at your heart painfully.

"You really think I want to walk away?" He asks quietly, vulnerably.

Your mouth opens and closes as you consider what to say, which words to pick out. None of them sit right on your tongue.

"No, I mean...I don't know. I forced this on you, so–"

"You didn't," He raises his head towards you, and you can imagine his gaze falling on you. "I don't want you thinking that. You didn't, okay? You should have never gotten sick in the first place. If only I came to terms with my feelings sooner...It didn't have to happen like this, and I'm so sorry that it did."

The tension in your body begins to dissolve as it dawns on you that he doesn't regret his actions, only the situation that induced them. And yet, it still rubs you the wrong way that he blames himself.

"It still feels wrong..." You frown. "Like it was some shitty last resort. Either you reciprocate my feelings or I die. Like, how manipulative is that?"

"Manipulative? You're seriously worried about that? Some people might call that romantic," Gojo scoffs playfully.

"I'm being serious!" You pout.

Irritatingly, he smiles sweetly. "So am I!"

"Nuh-uh, I don't believe you. What do you really think?"

He falls quiet, but his smiles stays. That persistent smile, or really smirk, that stretches across his face no matter the situation. It's just part of his show, of his ever-present façade. And yet...

"Hah... You're the only one who ever cares to know."

You roll your eyes at his dramatics. "That can't be true."

He raises his eyebrows slightly, and you feel his piercing gaze without even needing to see his eyes. His tone is light again, but his insinuation isn't.

"Do you think Yaga and the higher-ups really care about what I think? They only listen to me because they're scared of me. And when it comes to my...feelings...do you really think anyone thinks of that? It's like I don't have any."

You shake your head stubbornly. "Not to me."

He laughs softly, "Yeah, I know sweets. I've never had anyone challenge me about them the way you do."

"Well, how else am I to know?" You ask meekly, slightly embarrassed. "I know you have them, you just...don't speak on them unless I wrangle them out of you!"

He chuckles, "Sure."

"It's true! You still haven't really told me what you honestly think about... everything. There's got to be more."

He sighs, but you can tell he's amused at your insistence. "You really want to know?"

You nod earnestly.

"It's probably pretty pathetic."

"Then be pathetic," You say, perfectly serious. "You think I'll judge? After I pitied myself terribly for weeks for—I guess now—no reason?"

Your gaze is sharp and features hardened with determination, and yet all Gojo can think is how soft you are. Your eyes are bright, full of affection and hope and something else he doesn't dare put a name to, even though you already confessed it to him. He feels so fucking pathetic for the way he doesn't allow himself to feel your love even when it's sitting right in front of him. He feels so pathetic for the way he's been avoiding saying those three words again, for how the words get stuck in his throat and don't let his true emotions pass through.

He steels himself, trying not to ignore how the words echo through his mind like have they have been this entire conversation.

"I've always thought that l-...lo..." He swallows, his face burning red with shame that he can't even utter that word. "Love is a curse. Because isn't it? It almost... it almost killed you. You were closer to ...death then, than I'd ever seen you. And yet, in some fucking twisted way, maybe I needed that push. If that didn't happen...would I have ever told you?"

Each time he references your near-death state, his face crumples as if he's trying to hold back tears. It's then you realize that he doesn't allow himself to cry in front of you, or maybe in front of anyone.

"It's like the universe forced me to finally confess, after all these years. And still...still it's so hard to-" He sighs, brow furrowing in frustration. "To say what I mean. To say what I really want to say. It's kind of pathetic, isn't it?"

You smile softly and turn the hand closest to him so that your palm faces the ceiling. It skates over the sheets until it reaches over in his direction, enough so that he notices but not so far that he would feel obligated—it's for him to take or leave.

In another moment, you would burst out laughing at how absurdly fast he rushes forward to take it. But in this moment in time, you let your heart sing and your body feel warm everywhere.

For Satoru, this physical connection to you has significantly lowered his barriers. His mask slips even more, his persona waning in a way that makes him feel so exposed. Feeling you again makes him keenly aware of everything he almost lost.

"Actions speak louder than words. Didn't you come for me?"

"I was almost too late," He insists, voice cracking. "You were almost too far gone."

"But you came, and I'm here with you now. Everyone has their struggles, Satoru. Everyone. And it's not like I was brave enough to tell you, either."

He sighs, a shuddering sound you're not familiar with coming from him. "I don't feel like I'm supposed to have weaknesses like this."

"You're human," You say softly. "At the end of the day, we're all just human. You, me, and everyone else."

His face softens and his thumb absently traces the back of your hand.

"But I want to. I want to tell you everything, everything that...everything that I feel about you. I've always felt so much for you. There's so much I want to tell you, but..." He swallows. "It all gets stuck."

Your stomach flutters at his words. Now you feel so silly for asking him if he was going to walk away, because you feel all of his words so deeply. He's so sincere that it makes your heart skip a beat, knowing he thinks and has thought of you like this for a long time. You even feel giddy at his words, despite the situation.

"And that's okay. Do you think I can't feel that from you by now?" You reassure. "You don't even need to say anything. You never have."

Satoru shakes his head with some amusement, a small smile forming on his lips. He sighs and regards you with a disbelieving expression, as if he can’t believe your words. "God, the bar is in hell."

You can't help but erupt into laughter. "Satoru! Hey! You're ruining the momeeent!"

"Sorry," He smiles, and then his tone dips into something that has your insides stirring. "Am I really? Should I make it up to you, then?”

He leans over the edge of the bed more, and you're suddenly aware of how close he is to you. His elbows rest on the top of the mattress, near your thigh, and his head rests in his hands. He's looking up at you—you can just tell—and you feel jittery under his invisible yet ever-present gaze.

There's electricity in the air: the underlying tension has heightened, and even the brush of his hand against yours has your breath hitching. Your eyes fall to his lips—they look so soft, and such a pretty pale pink, and look so inviting—

Your eyes snap back to the rest of his face once you realize what you were doing. Your face is burning and you hope you weren't caught, but unfortunately it seems that may have been the case.

He rises from his seat slowly, with control, and sits on the edge of the bed. Wanting to be closer, you instinctively start to sit up fully, but you surprise at a gentle push at your shoulders, reducing you to resting on your elbows.

"Eager, are we?" He grins. "Did you forget that you're supposed to be resting?"

"Ugh! You– ! Shut up! I wasn't trying to do anything!" You say indignantly.

"Mmm, doesn't mean I can't though, right?" He says. "Like you said, actions speak louder than words..."

He pauses a few inches from your face. One of his hands gently brushes against your jaw and cheek while the other slides down your neck, causing you to tremble under his touch. He's clearly enjoying every second of this.

"Your face is warm, sweets."

"Shut up! No it's not!" You groan and cover your face with your hands, not able to bear the embarrassment. In the process, you brush his roaming hands away.

"Aww, don't do that," He coos, but isn't able to keep the laughter out of his voice. "Who said it was a bad thing?"

"Don't tease me," You whine, but slowly release your hands from your face.

"But I've missed it so muchhh," He sighs dramatically. "I've been deprived."

You deadpan. "That's your own doing."

"Harsh, sweetheart!" He winces. "But it's the truth, isn't it? I intend to make it up to you...make up for lost time."

The distance between you shrinks further. Your proximity is dizzying, unfamiliar and heart-racing and daunting and yet also so safe. A safe space carved out of nothing, comfort from the cold and unforgiving world you live in.

His fingers are on your face again, gently framing your jaw and chin, as if steadying you, as if he's going to...

"This is what I most regret not doing that day," He admits quietly.

"What do you mean?" You ask dumbly, thoughts muddled by this heat between you, as if you don't know exactly what he's doing.

"Before you fell unconscious," He says. "While you were...'in limbo', as Shoko put it, I wondered if I would ever be able to..."

Your heart beats quickly in your chest, making your breathing shallow. He leans in, fingers ghosting over your features and causing your eyes to flutter shut. You feel butterflies flitting around in your stomach; you're full of nerves, but also brimming with desire and yearning.

You gasp softly when his lips meet yours. Your hands immediately get lost his hair, fingers tugging gently on his soft strands. He kisses you deeply, so passionately that you fall back completely in surprise. It brings him down with you, but one of his arms frames your head and is the only thing that kept his body from collapsing onto yours.

"...to kiss you like this." He finishes breathlessly.

You thought he might make a joke about you falling for him, or about you wanting to be under him, but he allows the moment to be what it is. Intimate, close, vulnerable.

You circle your arms around his neck, pulling him down while you rise you, you closing the gap this time. Feelings that laid undisturbed for years now pour out all at once and you can't seem to catch your breath—or maybe that's because you don't want to let go of this moment.

You pull away slowly, hesitantly, your eyes never leaving his face. But something is missing.

You wordlessly reach for his bandages with tentative fingers. You tug at them gently, allowing time for him to protest, but he doesn't. He lets you take away the last protection he has, to peel away the last barrier to his emotions.

Your eyes begin to sting once the bandages fall away. A surge of emotions run through you, and you can't suppress your smile at the sight of his eyes at last. You have often compared them to the gems aquamarine and sapphire, but they shine brighter and more brilliantly than any jewel. You want to cry just looking at them—his glittering eyes that are consumed by emotion, full of affection and warmth and love, so much love.

"I love you." You whisper, reflecting what you see, overcome with emotion.

You're not expecting anything back, and truthfully you don't need any words to know his feelings. The emotion shimmering in his kaleidoscopic eyes is enough. You've never observed them this closely before, or for so long, and with each passing second their beauty intensifies.

He lowers himself a few inches lower yet, so close you can practically feel the warmth radiating from him.

It's soft and watery, but you hear it clear as day. "And I love you."

You can't contain yourself. You shoot up, tackling him into a hug, so enthusiastic and so unlike yourself that you can't help but giggle. This is something he might do, is what crosses your mind. Only he can make you act on your feelings like this. You embrace him tightly and unintentionally bear your whole weight onto him. You even end up audibly squishing the breath out of him.

"Mmph! For someone who just woke up from a coma, you're pretty...energetic," He says, voice slightly strained from your actions, but he's laughing. "Always full of surprises. You're adorable, y'know that?"

"Nope, so I guess you'll have to tell me again, then!" You stick out your tongue. You untangle yourself and sit up, and he follows ensuite. You begin to splutter out a protest when you lifts you and drags you to the headboard, propping you up against it so that you're not straining yourself. He murmurs something about 'how you shouldn't even be sitting up'. You feel warm at how easily he handles your weight.

"I have a lot of things to tell you," He says sincerely, arms still around you as he settles you against the back of the bed. "But I guess I can start with that. You're adorable, sweets."

You sigh, ruminating on his words even though you know he didn't mean them to be serious.

"Hah...I'm having too much fun, aren't I? For all of the things I still don't know."

"You can have as much fun as you like," He counters. "After everything...it feels important, doesn't it?"

You chuckle. "Okay, Mr. Sap. Next you're going to tell me to 'make memories, not excuses' and 'live, laugh, love' or some shit."

He playfully glares at you. "I was being serious! And I don't sound like that! All I meant was...you deserve to be happy. That's all."

He turns his head to look away, cheeks reddening as if expecting you to poke fun at him again.

Feeling bad for laughing now, you gently grasp his chin and turn him back towards you. "Thank you, Satoru. I didn't mean to laugh, and I meant what I said...I am happy, but I'm also ignorant. Is that really true happiness?"

Your words hang in the air, lingering on your conscience longer than you'd like to admit. You need to know.

"That's pretty philosophical," He says after a few moments, clearly caught off guard by your sudden seriousness.

"Maybe. But it's also true. I want to know everything..." You sigh. "Well, I do and I don't. I've been dreading it all since I woke up."

"We have time," He protests, eyes searching your expression. It almost sounds like a plead, and you realize the truth will be just as difficult for him to address, if not moreso. "We have so much time, sweets. All the time in the world."

"Not when I feel like this," You frown.

You see a flash of panic in his eyes. "Like what? Are you in pain anywhere?"

You wince at the misunderstanding. "No, no! I'm fine. Sorry, bad wording, that's not what I meant. I just meant that I'm going to feel unsettled until I know. It's like... I feel the truth in my bones, but I don't actually know it yet. I don't know if I even want to know, but I don't think it'll go away until you tell me...until you confirm it....does that make sense?"

He comes closer, as if sensing your need for touch. You lean into him, your head nestling into his chest.

"I know. It does."

"I don't really want to know...but I should. I should know."

He sighs, and it's tinged with exhaustion. "I know, sweets."

"You know what I want to know, don't you?" You ask, but it feels unnecessary. "What I asked you earlier..."

He doesn't answer, not needing to. He knows you'll ask, knows that you'll put the words out into the world.

"Satoru...he's gone, isn't he?"

You're met with a suffocating silence. You can barely breathe; it feels like time has stopped, it feels like those few words used up all the air in the room. The pressure hangs in the air like a spell waiting to be broken, crushing your lungs. In this moment, you feel like you'll never breathe the same way again.

The truth is uttered quietly in a weak voice. "Yes, he is."

Time resumes. Air enters your lungs, proving you wrong.

At the confirmation, the truth you felt in your gut now feels like a rock, sinking down and down and down, the truth making your dread coming to a height but also grounding you. And then suddenly everything clicks, synapses that long laid dormant now sparking and flooding your brain with information. Your eyes widen, focus going in and out.

You came to him. You made a deal unlike any other before it. You sealed your own death in stone, trading it with both of theirs.

This surge of understanding has disturbed your reality. You are stricken with shock: you remember. You remember everything. How you sought Geto out knowing that only one could remain in this world, believing Gojo could never go through with it. Geto's painfully innocent smile as he threatened and manipulated you, the sympathy he expressed that made you believe in Satoru's apparent indifference, planting a seed for your disease; everything.

There's only one reason you would be able to remember. Your head feels like it could explode, even though you knew it all along. Everything you tried to prevent still happened anyway; the curse fulfilled itself despite all your efforts. Everything was for naught.

Gojo watches your reaction closely, bracing you against him as if you're going to fall apart if he doesn't. You think there might be some truth to that.

"You remember now, don't you?" Gojo asks quietly, as if he can read your mind. "The Binding Vow..."

"Why?" You cry out, even though you know why, your voice sounding all too loud compared to Satoru's. "After everything...Fuck, that's all I ever wanted to avoid! That's why I did everything I did. That's why..."

You hike your knees into your chest, trying not to let out the tears that begin to form. You feel his touch immediately, you feel the guilt that radiates through his hands that try to soothe you.

"Fuck. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't meant to...I tried to stop it...Nobody was supposed to die..."

"You know that's not true," He pulls back to look at you directly, blue eyes burning into yours. "I don't know exactly what deal you made, but I know that's not true. You can't just say that, not when it almost cost you your life. Do you really hold no value to your life?"

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you're vaguely aware that he's angry. Angry that you risked your life for him, even though you know he'd do the same for you. But more than his anger, you sense the root of it: his unadulterated fear that you feel in his trembling grasp on you, see in his wide eyes.

"Do you really think that would have solved everything? That he would have kept his word?"

Guilt curdles in your stomach, but you also feel a rush of defensiveness. It's not like the choice you made was for fun; all you thought of was protecting him.

"It was a Binding Vow, Satoru. You kind of have to keep your word." You argue snarkily, but it sounds stupid even to your ears.

"Only about what is actually discussed. Unless you laid down conditions about every little thing...there are ways around everything."

Well, you can't argue with that. The vow was hastily taken when you were younger and more naive. You were desperate and blind to all of the holes in your plan.

You slowly raise your head, cogs still turning. "Satoru...how do you even know about the vow? Even I forgot. I couldn't have told anyone."

He chuckles darkly, "Geto wasn't exactly trying to keep it a secret. Yaga heard about it, and I'm pretty sure the higher-ups knew too. Ever wondered why you kept going on so many misinformed missions? They were trying to get rid of you, thinking you made some heinous deal with Geto. And of course Geto knew that would happen. I never- I never thought Suguru would go so far...I should have finished him off a long time ago."

"Satoru!" You're truly shocked by his words. Is this really the same man who bawled into your shoulder after Yaga and the higher-ups ordered him to carry out Suguru's execution? There's a reason you made the dire choice you did; he was incapable of carrying it out, and you feared for the worst.

Your eyes search his for the truth, and you find it. The dark glint in his eyes overshadows any past affection he had for his former friend. But there's more to it: the protective grip he has on you, the way his hands run up and down your sides as if reassuring himself that you're really there...

"He was fucking evil at the end. What he did to you..." His voice is weak. "I couldn't look past that. After all our years together, I can't believe he would go so far for his own agenda."

"But-" I didn't want him to die. I didn't want you to kill him.

He sees the doubt in your eyes. "Angel, there's no way. No way I couldn't have done what I did. You have no idea what you looked like...What he put you through..."

You glance down at yourself, frowning. Your brows crease in confusion. Sure, you had felt pretty bad, but you still survived. It's not like he actually did anything to you, just let the disease run its course. Okay, so you were maybe the closest to death you've ever been before, but you'd seen other sorcerers in worse condition who had made a full recovery after. And you woke up after all, didn't you?

"I mean, I know Shoko presumably fixed me up, but I don't feel too bad now."

Gojo sighs. "Do you know what day it is?"

You hesitate, thinking. It was Wednesday night when you were kidnapped. "Uh, it should be Thursday, right?"

"It's Monday."

He watches the realization sink in as you grow unusually quiet and withdrawn. Your mortality feels so fragile suddenly. His reaction makes sense.

"I've been holding my breath this whole weekend just hoping you'd pull through. Shoko didn't even know if you'd wake up at all. You almost died, and Suguru was banking on it. You almost fucking died, angel. You were on the brink, and...I couldn't handle it."

You look down at yourself again. Now that you look closer, you look sickly—horrible, really. Your skin has lost the luster it used to have and your nails are brittle and cracked. Your hair is thinner than it used to be, too, and its usual shine has been diminished into something dull and lifeless. You were almost lifeless.

"Bet I still look like shit, huh?" You chuckle weakly.

Gojo goes still, expression turning stony. Although he doesn’t say anything, it’s all over his face that he’s holding back strong words at your half-assed, dismissive response.

You sigh, “Sorry. I shouldn’t just…brush it off. I know I was in deep shit. But at the same time, I had already accepted it. It sounds bad, but…I was expecting it from the first flower. Deep down I truly thought I was going to die.”

"You almost did."

You wince, guilt flooding you.

You slowly grab his hands and look up into his eyes, trying not to shy away from his probing gaze. "I know, but I didn't. I got myself into such a mess, and somehow you were able to get me out of it. Somehow, you saved me from it all, Satoru."

There's a pause, and then...

"Well, I am the strongest for a reason."

And there he goes, turning your serious conversation into something rather unserious.

"Would you stop with that?!" You pout, holding up a pillow and miming hitting him with it.

He laughs and wraps his arm around you, easily giving him the leverage he needs to pull the pillow from your grasp.

"I'm so sorry, angel, please forgive me!" He shouts desperately, making you giggle. "But you shouldn't be trying to hit your knight in shining armor, should you?"

He shakes you a bit to emphasize his 'desperation' and frowns like a kicked puppy. You huff, trying to seem annoyed, but his behavior pulls a smile from you. You can't possibly stay mad at him while he's pouting like this.

A long moment of peaceful silence stretches out, a piece of bliss that is soon stolen away.

“Do you hate him?”

You look up into his crystal eyes, searching them. You didn't expect him to ask you that, and so suddenly at that. “Suguru?”

He nods.

“…I don’t know. He tried to use me as a pawn, to sacrifice my life to try to get you to break. To force you to be on his side. Considering that, he didn’t have any regard for our well-being anymore…I never wished any bad on him, and yet it seems that’s all he had planned for us. Bad things, cruel things. I was his pawn, you were his queen he wanted to capture.”

“...Queen?”

You laugh, spluttering in embarrassment, “W-well, the queen really has all the power in chess! I was just thinking the queen is the one who can actually do things and stuff, I don’t know, just leave me alone! I’m bedridden and you’re interrogating me on my terminology! Maybe you’re the cruel one, Satoru.”

"No, no," He half-smiles, and it's bittersweet. "He definitely was. To take you away from me—no, to take away your life—that's really the only way I can imagine myself breaking. I didn't know it for a while, but Suguru was truly cunning and calculating.”

He pauses for a moment, and as you look into his eyes you can see his conflicting emotions swirling in them. Deep down, he still cared for Suguru. That’s why it hurt.

He chuckles, shaking his head, “It's funny—that's who I thought I was. Everyone always thought Suguru was an angel with a perfect moral compass who could do no wrong...or at least I did. But it turns out that you're the only angel here. My angel."

“Har har,” You roll your eyes. “And next you’re going to tell me I made a deal with the devil.”

“You practically did,” He grimaces. “That’s really not too far off.”

“Maybe, but…” You sigh. “Somehow, it’s still hard to hate him. He used to be so kind, and his smile was so gentle. Maybe in another life, he stays that way.”

There’s a lot of things he could say, a lot of ways he could respond. Your hope for Geto to change, your faith that he could change in another life, may fall on deaf ears. Is that what you would want to hear after finally executing your best friend after a decade of refusal to, a decade of asking yourself the same questions?

You turn to him, eyes searching his face. But it turns out you don’t need to worry.

“Maybe,” Gojo smiles, and that’s good enough for you. “And maybe in another life, I would have confessed to you a long, long time ago.”

“Really? When?” You laugh.

“Hm…how about the first time I saw you?”

He tucks a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. Your breath halts at the absolutely love-struck expression on his face.

You want to ask him what he means, how that’s even possible, for every detail and moment he realized, but…

“You’re full of shit!” is what you say instead.

He continues on with a sweet smile, as if he hadn’t heard you, “You walked in holding a huge stack of books to your chest and got so nervous to introduce yourself in front of the class that you forgot to put them down and dropped them when you bowed.”

“Ahh! No I didn’t!”

“Mmhmm. And you were so shy that you refused to talk to me for three weeks, even though you talked to Suguru and Shoko.”

“Y-you were hard to look at!” You defend yourself, cheeks warming. “And how could I talk to you when I could barely look at you? You’re so…perfect, y’know? It was hard to talk to you when you’re so talented and pretty and charming…”

“Ooo? You really think so?” He wears a shit-eating grin.

“Okay, that’s enough!" You pout, crossing you arms.

"Awww, don't be mad at me sweets!" He chuckles and wraps himself around you. "I'm only telling the truth. You made me nervous too, y'know?"

"As if," You frown. "It didn't seem like it."

"Maybe I was just better at hiding it," He says, his smile now seeming misplaced. Each stirring feeling conjured a mask so convincing that it remained unquestioned for years, not until each of your blinding smiles formed cracks in his fake persona, breaking him down to his barest bones. Then he was a blushing mess around you, as Geto and Shoko often reminded him.

"Actually, I think you just weren't observant enough," He sighs and puts a hand over his heart as if offended. "Did you not pay any attention to me, sweets?!"

"I did! I just thought you hated me at first," You admit. "You wouldn't even look at me for so long, I just thought you looked down on me. I mean, you've always been so famous in our world, y'know? It made sense why you wouldn't pay me any attention. Well, I thought as much until we became friends, at least."

He moves in closer, his large fingers framing your cheek and rubbing gently your cheekbone. He's flushed, pink spreading across his cheeks and nose. "Hate you? I really messed up there, huh? Look at my face, sweets. I was just worried this would happen. You've always had this effect on me...I was scared that it was obvious even without speaking to you. Or looking at you."

You roll your eyes playfully. "How could that be obvious, Satoru? Only you could think that."

"Hmm, but everyone else still seemed to know."

"What exactly do you mean by 'everyone'?"

He chuckles. "It's a long list, sweets."

It's then you have the realization that you're still in the dark about a lot, not just this 'long list' of everyone who supposedly was aware of Gojo's affections. What exactly has transpired in the past weeks, or even months?

"There's still a lot you haven't told me yet. What exactly has been going on?"

He smiles. "That should be my line. There's a lot you haven't told me yet."

He's right. Annoyingly right. There was more to the vow, more to Geto and his family, than you've relayed. And everything about your illness...

It dawns on you that there are things you aren't ready to share yet. That you and Gojo have your work cut out for you when it comes to the past, when it comes to your relationship. You have love for each other, but there's more than that to a relationship.

"I know..." You frown, dreading the prospect already.

"Hey," He thumbs at your down-turned lips. "We'll get to it—we'll get to everything. We have all the time in the world now. We can talk about all the millions of things you're thinking about whenever you're ready...but for now, let's just have today. Today is for us. There's always a tomorrow, yeah?"

Hope blooms in your chest. That's right. One step at a time.

"'Today is for us'...I like that."

You smile easily, an invisible weight lifting from your chest. You feel lighter than you have in months—and it seems like Gojo is faring similarly, with his relaxed expression and gentle smile. But a flicker of uncertainty, given away by his eyes that he's not used to having on display, interrupts his otherwise peaceful expression.

Your smile drops. "What? Is something wrong?"

His narrows his eyes. "Can you read my thoughts or something? I was thinking for legitimately three seconds and you start hounding me..."

"Like I said before, thinking is dangerous from you!" You giggle.

"I really can't hide anything from you, can I?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "It's just that...I have a feeling that things are only going to get more complicated from here on out."

His words are cryptic, but you understand what he means. He's always been sensitive to changes in cursed energy, born with this innate instinct. He almost always senses major events in the sorcerer world before they happen.

"You've sensed something?" You ask, now alert.

You see something like regret flash across his features, as if he wants to eat his words. You're the type who is constantly overthinking and fearing worst case scenarios, as he well knows. You should be worried, with a million thoughts running through your head. But right now?

"Whatever," You shrug, truthfully unbothered. "As long as you're here, it doesn't matter. Even if the world is supposed to go up in flames, we have today. And you protect our tomorrow."

"Just me? Aren't you a sorcerer too? Don't discredit yourself, sweets," He smiles, but the look he gives you is firm. "We protect our tomorrow."

Embarrassment fills your features; you have always doubted your abilities, which has never been hard with Satoru around, much to his distaste.

"If you insist," You say, barely acknowledging yourself, but it's better than nothing. You look away from him, squirming uncomfortably in embarrassment.

"Mhm, I do," He hums. "It's always a we now, sweets."

But just as soon as you've seen his soft and sincere side, it's gone.

"But enough of all this boooring talk! Now that I have you, I think we have lots of lost time to make up for."

You raise your eyebrows. "What's wrong with talking, hm?"

He's so close again, and your eyes can't help but flick down to his pale pink lips.

"I don't need words to say what I want to," He says, lips brushing the skin on your neck where your pulse thrums.

"Is that right?" You try to ask, but soon your lips are occupied, your words muffled as he kisses you deeply.

"Mmhmm, and I have so much to tell you," He murmurs. "I've been needing this for so many years, angel. Been needing you."

You feel like you can't think, like you can't breathe.

"I want to do— I mean, talk about more things with you."

You don't miss the mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and the way he pulls you closer and presses your body against his, your skin brushing against his. You feel heat, you feel electricity; you feel him.

He's all you want.

"Freudian slip, Satoru? Well, talk all you want. I'm all yours."

TAGLIST: @certainduckanchor @kawaiivillainess98 @arehzhera @starrylibras @mandysfanfics @rain-and-a-nice-nap @csillana @sup-hoes-its-me @llliissuu @hawkdaddy1111 @dcvilxswish @angel-kyo @eliz-lovesgojo @5268r @wooasecret @timetobegone @ceronnica @torusblindfold @mo0nforme @crookedlyaddictedtodark-blog @soapysofi @sadmonke @shartnart1 @dummyf @adoraspace @allie-jay @notgoodforlife @spin-garden @astrokatsuki @reiluvr @kinny-away @turtl3-warr1or @slyhersophia

notes: not me foreshadowing Sukuna and his long long list of consequences...especially that one :( also sorry for offscreening Suguru 💀

Guys I'm finally done!!! I think I need to ban myself from doing multiple chapter works because I really just make you guys wait for waaaay too long... Either that or I have to finish writing the series first before posting any of it LOL. Like do you want to know something embarrassing? I had to reread my own writing because I forgot what I wrote...which is crazy!!!

Also I rewrote this like 3 times AGHHH and I had the hardest time with the ending...I hope it's not too awkward or sudden? I tried my best with it ;-;

Thank you so so so much for reading and commenting!!! <3 And again, sorry to keep you waiting for so long!!

[evenmorefatallyobsessed]

Hey so to anyone whose ever wondered why I like Jaune I could probably give a good amount of reasons.

From his knight aesthetic, to him not being a Gary Stu, but a very flawed, believable character whose trying to improve himself. Hell I LOVE that he is a reference to Joan of Arc.

That he's not classically played masculine, but also isn't portrayed effeminate or flamboyant to oppose it either. I like that Jaune feels like someone who at a glance could be from a earth.

He feels like he was a Civilian, and you know what, I also have a weakness for blue eyed blondes... Maybe that's why I Love the idea of there being a whole family of them.

Heck conceptionally Jaune has a lot in common with the stereotypical Shonen protagonist... But then again so does Ruby and Yang. And Blake fit the more edgy manga Protags...

But if I had to name one thing I like about Jaune, even more then his determination/ Willpower (Stubbornness when it's misdirected like it was in Jaunedice)

I think what I like most is, well... That Jaune is arguably the bravest character in RWBY (Oscar could be argued to be that too though)

Let me explain, so... Everyone else in Beacon is different then Jaune mentally. And the reason is simple. a combination of their aura and training...

All the main cast besides Jaune were overpowered teenagers with strength like Captain America. And there in lies the reason.

They don't view things the same way Jaune does, in the Red Trailer, we literally see Ruby tear apart a horde of Beowulves in minutes on the way to visit her mother's grave. Which implies she does this regularly on said trek.

Now for those watching we gain the same mentality and understanding as the girls of RWBY. Beowulves aren't that strong, their mobs... Weak, easy to beat and need big numbers to be even a bit challenging.

But if you simply look at them, compare them to Ruby... Every Beowulve is a freaking WEREWOLF!!!

That is fucking terrifying, take away the aura and that is a brickshitting situation Ruby is in. But to her it's really not, because she has spent her whole life killing these things to the point where she can do so effortlessly.

Hell we see this again in Yang when she literally doesn't just enter a fight with a gang of known armed criminals but starts it! Literally grabbing the kingpin by the balls.

Which, why wouldn't she, she punches fucking armored Grizzly bears to death. And so everyone one of JNPR and RWBY outside of Jaune look at Grimm and Criminals in the sense of...

Oh neat, a bad guy, let's kill/ beat them up...

When their being fired at their not thinking they could get shot, NO! Their thinking it's okay to get shot a few times cuz they have aura that'll protect them.

And that's why Jaune is so brave, he went to Beacon as a civilian, unaware of aura. Now stop and think about how far behind Jaune was actually in his own mind.

Because remember, he didn't know about aura, the stuff that lets everyone else be so OP. Jaune fought a Ursa Major and killed it without prior training and wasn't using aura techniques, he had enough physical prowess and strength to cleave through it in a single shot...

A literal Marine couldn't do that... But Jaune did, if it were a world without aura, Jaune would've easily been one of the physically strongest people. But because aura existed, people who were trained their entire lives with it are worlds apart above him.

But my point is this, everyone else isn't so much brave as confident and in Yang and Weiss's cases moreso arrogant. Ruby looked at a Goliath while she was in Mt. Glenn and her first thought was to go and kill it... That thing was a fucking Kaiju. And she wasn't scared of it, oh no she was excited to kill it!

Initiation was literally fun for Yang, she had a blast during it, Nora too, Blake wasn't concerned and until she was forced to ride a Nevermore Weiss was so at ease that she was willing to strike out on her own instead of teaming up with someone else, not once but twice.

But Jaune is different, to him, a Beowulf is a monster that can kill him in a single strike...A Ursa is a beast that could kill the strongest men... A single attack could end you life...

And yet he was still willing to take initiation, there was no second chances, or magic barrier to protect him, hell he didn't even have a gun.

Dude was gonna fight bears and Werewolfs with a sword and shield. In his mind a single blow would kill him, this wasn't fun, this wasn't exciting or something to be taken lightly.

It was a life or death struggle, and just because Pyrrha gave him aura doesn't mean that mentality magically goes away. No to Jaune Grimm still are threat, it why he shows nervousness when fighting them unlike everyone else.

But he still does... everyone else fights Grimm like it's a game or chore. But to Jaune he is actually fighting for his life, these things scare him, fighting scares him, and mentally he is still very much leaning more towards civilian.

But it's because of that that when he fights he is being braver then all the others. Not to say their cowards though.

I think ultimately that's why I like Jaune most, because I never stop realizing that he is fighting in a darksouls game while everyone else feels like their in DMC.

But despite that he doesn't hesitate to fight beside them, to try and help and is willingly putting his life on the line when everyone else is just having a easy run of it.

And I'd argue this is why Ozpin made him leader.

[thesimquarter]

Quick appreciation of the slightly cursed renders in the GBA manuals for the sims: bustin’ out & the urbz.

Anyways, did you know? The handbooks for the first two handheld Sims games has some unique descriptions for many of the characters!

These are the ‘Meet Your Neighbors’ pages of of The Sims: Bustin’ Out (GBA) and The Urbz: Sims in the City (GBA & DS) in the official game manuals.

[TRANSCRIPTION UNDER CUT]

[page 1]

MEET YOUR SIMVALLEY NEIGHBORS For a small town, SimValley has a lot of colorful characters for your Sim to get acquainted with. This section gives you a peak at just a few of the people who populate your Sim’s new home town.

Dusty Hogg - This bad boy biker plays by his own rules. While rumors around town state that he still lives with his parents, we don’t recommend you tease him about that—or anything else.

Mad Willy Hurtzya - Mad Willy knows a thing or two about going 10 rounds. Quick to solve a problem by applying his fists, he's definitely more of a fighter than a lover

Eddie Renalin - Although some Sims say that Eddie used to be a skinny twerp of a kid, those allegations have never been proven. Though short on smarts, these days Eddie's the biggest and strongest guy around town.

Bucki Brock - Bucki is a straight shooter who was born and raised right in the Valley. This is one girl who knows a cow from a steer and that's no bull.

Daddy Bigbucks - Daddy is sure enough a big spender. Your Sim will want to keep on his god side a to ensure they're near the drainpipe should any of that wealth trickle down.

Det. Dan D. Mann - Detective Dan D. Mann is the police presence in SimValley. He prides himself on keeping the SimValley streets safe and boasts that jaywalking is down 25% since he took on the beat.

[page 2]

O. Phil McClean - While O. Phil McClean isn’t the friendliest fisherman your Sim will ever meet, he does know the best spots for reeling in the biggest fish. If your Sim can get to know this crusty angler, he might tell them just what he’s using for bait.

Ephram Earl - This otherworldly neighbor is very familiar with things that go bump in the night. A bit on the loony side, this ghost can still give your Sim some of the worldly belongings that he no longer needs.

Misty Waters - Misty is responsible for keeping swimming Sims from expiring in the watery deep. She prides herself on staying fit, all the better to save lives and look good in her work uniform... a swimsuit.

Chet R. Chase - No hoity-toity, fancy French cooking for Chet R. Chase. A SimValley native, Chet serves up a tasty plate o' vittles that’s pure down home cooking.

Olde Salty - Olde Salty is the SimValley fish monger. He's a grumpy old sailor so ye'd best be wary of what ye say!

Nicki Knack - This SimValley old timer has made it her business to put her nose in everyone else's. A devoted collector of this and that, Nicki really might have a use for some of the items your Sim can't use.

Uncle Hayseed - Thanks to Uncle Hayseed’s generous invitation to come and spend the summer in SimValley, your Sim has a chance to enjoy the slower-paced life of country livin’ at its finest.

[Page 3]

Giuseppi Mezzoalto - Some Sims are suspicious of this Giuseppi and think that he sometimes uses his van for moving people's things—whether he hired or not, But when it's time to relocate, his big, roomy van does the trick for toting a Sim’s possessions across town.

In addition to this cast of characters, there are many more Sims around town who can become friends, roommates, or more!

[Page 4]

Darius - King of the Streeties, Darius has moves on the court and is a straight shooter when it comes to darts. He can usually be found at his hangout, Club Xizzle. Remember to stay away from his hotdogs.

Kris Thistle - Kris Thistle is King Tower's janitor. Outgoing, with a touch of attitude, she's more at home in her darkroom than behind a mop.

Daddy Bigbucks - Sim Valley's big spender moved to Miniopolis with plans to buy the entire city! Keep your eyes and ears open—this cat is definitely up to something.

Polly Nomial - Queen of the Nerdies and Associate Professor at the university, Polly is one smart cookie. If you're lucky, she might show you her vintage dictionary collection.

Roxanna Moxie - Flamboyant and fearless, Roxanna Moxie is the Carnival ringmaster and Queen of the Artsies. Fond of the bizarre, she counts the founding of the carnival's first freak show among her greatest achievements.

Luthor L Bigbucks III - Luthor is son and heir to Daddy Bigbucks' financial empire. A jetsetter and King of the Richies, Luthor walks the walk, but didn’t quite inherit his father’s evil streak.

[Page 5]

MEET YOUR NEIGHBORS The city is full of people for your Urb to get acquainted with. This section gives you the rundown on some of the people you'll meet.

Darius - King of the Streeties, Darius can usually be found at his hangout, Club Xizzle. Remember to stay away from his corndogs.

Kris Thistle - The King Tower janitor is outgoing, with a touch of attitude. Kris is more at home in her darkroom than behind a mop.

Daddy Bigbucks - Sim Valley's big spender moved to Miniopolis with plans to buy the entire city! Keep your eyes and ears open—he's definitely up to something.

Futo Maki - This construction worker oversaw the renovation of Splicer Island before it was shut down. Maybe you can put him back to work.

Sharona Faster - Sharona had plans to operate a water taxi to Splicer Island, until Daddy Bigbucks squashed her dream.

Jack I. Deal - This big man used to work for Daddy Bigbucks himself, but now he's got different ideas on how to earn his living.

Busta Cruz - This guy is a born entertainer. He keeps the Urbz amusement levels up.

Downloads to the full manuals can be found in this archive.

[madlori]

Ship dysphoria

Ok so a bit of time has gone by, and the 9-1-1 fandom is settling into a bit of an...existential crisis?

Because 90% of this fandom is built on Buddie. Buddie has always been the strongest driving force. We love our other blorbos, but it's Buddie that usually drives us feral.

Except...Buck/Tommy. OMG. It is WORKING for a lot of fans. (and JFC we cannot settle on a ship name. Tevan? Kinley? I'm gonna stick with Buck/Tommy)

A LOT of fans are having a "I'm a devoted Buddie shipper, why do I like this so much??" moment and it can almost feel like a betrayal, or that you're deserting the ship (the ship that, remember, Oliver told us to stay aboard).

And I think I can probably speak for everybody when I say that the last thing we want or need is a ship war in this fandom, something we haven't ever really had but which has torn other fandoms apart.

So I'm gonna put on my veteran-of-many-fandoms hat for a second and tell you a thing:

It's okay to ship Buck and Tommy. It's ok to do that and still ship Buddie. It's also okay to leave Buddie behind if it's not working for you anymore. It's okay to just tolerate Buck and Tommy and not really care about it, and stay focused on Buddie. You are allowed to ship however it works for you, and you are not limited to one and only one ship. If you decide you don't think Buddie will happen and you're going to cut your losses, that's okay, too. It is not a reflection on your character or something. You don't swear an oath of fealty to a ship.

We don't know how long Tommy will stick around, but Buck will still be bisexual. He may date another man. He may date a woman again. You can ship those things too.

But why is this ship hitting me so hard? I never thought I'd like Buck with another man! I'm so confused!

I get that. There are some reasons why that might be.

There is something very appealing about a ship that's canon. Some of you might never have had a canon queer ship, but the pull is strong. There's no guessing, no interpreting, no subtext-examining. It's there, it's real, you don't have to wonder if you're just overinterpreting things. Yes. Buck and Tommy kissed and are going on a date. Even if that's all it ever is, you'll never be accused of "seeing things that aren't there." Don't discount that.

Tommy, even in just 1.5 episodes, is a LOT more integrated into the firefam than any of Buck's previous girlfriends. Tim talked about not wanting him to be "siloed off" away from the main cast and that was exactly the problem with his prior girlfriends. Tommy is friends with Eddie. He knows Christopher and has hung out with him. He spent most of that loft conversation reassuring Buck that his place in Eddie's life was secure. He feels more like part of the gang than any other ones. That makes it easier to see him in Buck's life.

The mere fact of Buck's queer awakening is so monumental for so many of us that the character who helped him get there is going to naturally earn our affection immediately, and it's going to make you want that relationship to succeed, even if it's ulitmately not endgame for Buck. You want to see Buck have a good experience the first time out with a man. Of course you do.

And we just want to see Buck make out with a hot beefy firefighter. That is so valid of us.

Anyway. There is no need for a crisis. You can love Buddie with your whole heart and still be excited about this pairing, and want to see how it goes, and read fic about it. I may be writing a lil something myself.

You're good, fam.

[randomameteur]

Y'know, for all the fandom tomfoolery around sans's heehoo glowey eyeball, I don't think I've heard anyone bring up anything truly plot-relevant or thematic about it, so here are my observations:

In UNDERTALE, virtually all battle sprites (save for the healthbar and battle options) are black and white:

This applies consistently with virtually every monster battle sprite as well.

When a monster's fight features some kind of color, it's usually a really big deal: When you first see the color blue in battle, it signifies the beginning of the blue attack and blue SOUL mechanics, when you see green, you get the green SOUL mechanic, when you see purple, you get muffet's signature purple SOUL mechanic, Yellow is also a SOUL mechanic etc, etc. Characters that introduce new SOUL mechanics are usually the more important ones: Papyrus, Undyne, Mettaton/Alphys, and Muffet.

Additionally, colors have thematic implications, and this is the part that actually starts connecting to sans' sprite.

As far as memory carries me, the first time you'll ever see a consistantly colorful element of a battle sprite is against Asgore.

Asgore sports a trident worthy of a fight against the devil himself, and it's the same ruby-red we come to associate with the player, Frisk's SOUL, and by extension DETERMINATION. In a way, this fits. Asgore has been the most (naturally) determined being in the underground for as long as until Frisk arrives. His drive to free his people, though not fully put into action due to his guilt and ineptitude to handle responsibilities on his own, is IMMENSE, and only someone essentially made of determination can overpower that.

However, the red player soul is not the only one to bear any kind of meaning. Thanks to "ball game" in snowdin, we know the virtues the other SOULs embody as well:

Red signifies DETERMINATION

Orange signifies BRAVERY

Yellow signifies JUSTICE

Green signifies KINDNESS

Cyan signifies PATIENCE

Blue signifies INTEGRITY

And Purple signifies PERSERVERANCE.

Green shows up all the time in healing projectiles, no questions there as to why, but ONLY ONE CHARACTER has not one, but TWO of these colors present in their battle sprite: Cyan and Yellow.

Now tell me, who in UNDERTALE's main cast is A: Willing to wait all fucking day for something to happen and B: Willing AND capable of actively judging you the ENTIRE time?

Sans the motherfucking skeleton.

(Best gif i could find, my phone really doesn't like the gif selector!)

Sans's left eye.... eye socket? His eye thingy rapidly flashes Cyan and Yellow whenever he uses his strongest attacks. If we're to assume a SOUL color appears where its corresponding attribute is at its limit or highest prominance, then this makes a lot of sense.

Sans is the living definition of letting things be, he'll wait as long as humanly possible to so much as pick up a sock.... and then wait some more. His patience is perhaps TOO great, and largely manifests in a sort of apathetic complacency so thick that he won't even fight you until there's literally no other option left. When sans DOES fight you, he's not even remotely determined or anything, rather he knows that his only shot--monsterkind's only shot-- at survival is not merely killing you, but in making sure the experience sucks so much for so long that you decide to stay dead and quit the game. Sans is not determined, he is desperate, and he'll have the patience to wait forever if it means stopping you.

Sans is also very observant, like.... SCARY observant, he does NOT remember you're genocides, but he certainly can extrapolate that they've happened after a good long look at your expression every time you're forced to reload your save. This observance plays into his incredibly strong sense of justice, which is likely why he's the royal judge. Sans' way of things is very "what goes around, will eventually come around", and this even manifests in his battle mechanic literally being called Karmatic Retribution, or KR.

Sans knows better than anyone (other than flowey) that he cannot possibly send you to the hell he knows you deserve, but he can absolutely build one of his own for you, and if he had the energy to do so he'd keep you there forever until you, the player, make the one good remaining decision to quit the game.

TLDR: Sans's glowing eye is not only intimidating and fancy, but also a direct reprisentation of his core virtues at their absolute strongest.

[1dcommunityficrecs]

Rec List: Polyamory!

Happy day-after(-day-after)-Valentine's. What's better than love? MORE LOVE.

I absolutely love how excited y'all were for this category -- we have 22 amazing fics, with a wide variety of groupings. We have OT5, Zourry, Zouiam, Zourriam, as well as ships with people outside the band like Emma Corrin, Elgar Johnson, and a bunch of Stylinshaw. We've got fics from 2,000 words to 200,000 words, from Teen to Explicit, and just reading the summaries and recommendation reasons has me absolutely vibrating with excitement to dive into some of these -- my TBR just keeps getting longer!

Read, reblog, kudos, comment, share, and get ready for the next list!

Daisy Chains by inkandella/@shehungthemoon (15617, Teen, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik/Liam Payne/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

A canon timeline fic where the boys have been solo for a bit now; it's a realistic take as to how the five of them could have a relationship with each other being who they are, and how they build a home from themselves away from everything else. Love-letters through text messages and grocery shopping and writing music for each other

Reccer says: I love how there's this already established love between all five of them, and the fic just sort of cements it and lets it grow into something permanent. The author captures Louis' voice so well and it's just really charming and fun to read. Everything's sickeningly sweet in the best ways and it feels like a balm, there's just enough realistic angst to tug you along and ofc a happy ending.

Tell Me It's The Strongest Shape by YesIsAWorld/@louandhazaf (73224, Explicit, Louis Tomlinson/Nick Grimshaw/Elgar Johnson) – fic post Warnings: Grief/Mourning

Nick and Elgar have it all. They’re famous, successful, and engaged to be married—and sometimes they play with others. When uni student Louis gets street cast by Elgar for a GQ photoshoot, he's drawn into Nick and Elgar’s complicated relationship. They've always invited mates into their bed. It doesn’t ever mean anything. Until… it does.

Reccer says: This fic is everything, I wish I could read it again for the first time. The characters are imperfect and the relationships so tender, and the LOVE. I want to live in this fic.

I Like Different Places (Nobody Calls It a Sin) by YesIsAWorld/@louandhazaf (3746, Not Rated, Zayn Malik/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

The one where Harry comes out to his family.

Reccer says: I am obsessed with every word of this fic. The relationships are so DELIGHTFUL, and I have so much empathy for Harry.

Equilateral by HelloAmHere/@helloamhere (52158, Explicit, Zayn Malik/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Harry and Louis are childhood best friends. Louis moves home from NY and becomes close to Harry. And his boyfriend Zayn.

Reccer says: The fic of bad feelings! This is a work in progess, and every update has been enthralling and magical and all the things. Hello is a gift.

The Only Things That Keeps Me Grounded by lululawrence/@lululawrence (27664, Not Rated, Nick Grimshaw/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

Harry is trying so hard not to fall in love with a married guy, let alone two married guys, let alone two married guys married to each other. But it turns out that the married guys are also trying not to fall in love with him. Sometimes, you just have to let it happen.

Reccer says: I have a hard time being coherent about this fic, it is so very good and I love it a lot. I love how Harry falls in love with Nick and Louis, and the scene where he overhears them lives in my marrow. I particularly liked all the conversations and the focus on consent, how everyone is so respectful and considerate almost to a fault -- no one wants to push but also OH MY GOD JUST KISS ALREADY HE LIKES YOU BACK

Orion's Belt by LadyLondonderry/@londonfoginacup (24307, Mature, Nick Grimshaw/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

Louis and Nick have been in a happy committed relationship for two years, their matching soulmarks on display for the world to see. It’s been them against the world, the alpha/beta singer and radio DJ power duo. All that changes on February 1st, when they wake up to a third matching soulmark. As they say, the course of true love never did run smooth.

Reccer says: this fic is AMAZING

Take the Middle Path by yeah_alright/@uhoh-but-yeah-alright (2580, Explicit, Zayn Malik/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

Harry's desires are plentiful and complicated in a way that's always worried and confused him. Being with Louis and Zayn helps him explore the seemingly disparate aspects of who he is and what he wants, and to realize he doesn't have to choose just one.

Reccer says: this grabbed me by the throat at the killer opening line and didn't let me go until the very end (or, has it let me go yet?).

Moonstruck by Lhhome/@lhhomefics (9318, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson/Emma Corrin) – fic post

Harry is just trying to figure himself out, Louis just wants to help his long-term partner but doesn't know how and Emma's best friend Florence just might claim she is a matchmaker.

Reccer says: This fic is so, so lovely. I love how it flowed, and the build was so natural.

another friday night by wabadabadaba/@badger-bear (74493, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson/Original Female Character) – fic post Warnings: Biphobia, Mentions of Suicide

Louis Tomlinson thought signing to BMG would mean he would be free to make his own choices. He should have known better. Tasked with getting a public girlfriend, Louis decides to try his hand at finding the right woman himself. From the moment he met Lennon Adair he felt a connection with her but he had no idea how deep that connection would go.

Reccer says: This is such a lovely contribution to our fandom. The author took the time to let the story progress, and there was so much love and care put into it.

Abstract by star55/@star55 (8414, Explicit, Zayn Malik/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

After Zayn draws a naked Harry for her art class, she finds that she can't stop drawing Harry and Louis' naked bodies, usually engaged in some form of sexual activity.

Reccer says: This fic is hot and delightful and did I mention hot??

And That Was That by lightswoodmagic (sarah_writes)/@lightwoodsmagic (22550, Explicit, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

Or, Zayn and Liam have been polyamorous for years, but Harry and Louis are monogamous. When Zayn meets Louis and starts to fall for him, it opens them all up for something they've never experienced before.

Reccer says: This fic lives in my head rent free. I love how each chapter is a different POV, and seeing the story develop from each character's POV. The story progresses so beautifully, and I love the characters, and I love how the chemistry leaps off the page.

That’s Happiness To Me by louislittletomlintum/@louislittletomlintum (25000, Explicit, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

Zayn and Louis are friends with benefits and have a crush on the same person but they don’t know it. Non-conventional relationships between most people in the fic!

Reccer says: I liked how it had aro representation which I don’t often see in fics - I also liked how the perspective changes. And the smut 🥵 please bully the author to write more poly!!!

Parallel by SomeDovesFly/@somedovesfly (96651, Explicit, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik/Liam Payne/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

OT5 poly AU, BDSM comfort fic. OT5 work on a hit show. This is a story about the Happily Ever After

Reccer says: Absolutely the healthiest BDSM fic I've ever read, communication, realistic scenes and so much love and spice!

Balance by SomeDovesFly/@somedovesfly (104400, Explicit, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik/Liam Payne/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Continuing happily ever after! Boys navigating living together, new relationships, jealousy and self doubt, and so much smut, kink, and love

Reccer says: Fantastic kink and smut, but wrapped in love and communication

Equilibrium by SomeDovesFly/@somedovesfly (148062, Explicit, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik/Liam Payne/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: Graphic Depiction of Violence

The boys are continuing their kinky lives, with someone's past coming to haunt them

Reccer says: They're growing in their roles within the relationship. Angst and drama in this one!

Constellation (Previously called Four) by SomeDovesFly/@somedovesfly (231958, Explicit, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik/Liam Payne/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

The boys are reaching new levels of their relationship, both in and out of kink

Reccer says: Fantastic depiction of a polygamous relationship, showing the love and jealousy that can come with, even if no one is in the wrong

Just Let Me Adore You by Anonymous/ (63432, Explicit, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik/Liam Payne/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Soulmate au that's OT5, a story of getting together

Reccer says: Lots of love, some angst, and just a sprinkling of smut

You Only Fall In Love Twice by Beanno28/@beanno28 (57670, Explicit, Zayn Malik/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

Louis meets popstar Harry Styles while he is working at a festival and they hit it off right away. When he is introduced to Harry’s boyfriend, Zayn, Louis is invited to learn about their world of Polyamory. Will he decide it’s not for him or will he embrace the new lifestyle? This could be the start of something new…

Reccer says: I loved the communication in this fic and how all of them had their own dynamics and approached their relationships at a pace that felt right for them individually. I also really liked how the discovery of polyamory is described, with the struggles but also all the love between them.For the first time ever it made me understand what it could be/feel like.

Out of Our Systems by Rearviewdreamer/@all-these-larrythings (34000, Explicit, Zayn Malik/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

After a year of long distance, Louis knows exactly what to expect when he and Harry finally move in together. An endless loop of good morning kisses, romantic weekends exploring the city, and falling asleep in each other's arms every night is all they’ve ever wanted. Then, they meet Zayn.

Reccer says: It’s hot !!! And there’s also love

Equilateral by HelloAmHere/@helloamhere (58000 at time of submission -- WIP, Explicit, Zayn Malik/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Harry and Zayn try to cheer up their single friend Louis, but what starts off as an experimental threesome quickly grows into something more complex.

Reccer says: The author calls this the fic of bad feelings, and for good reason. There's so much angst and pain, but also touching moments where they are learning to navigate the messiness that comes with a longtime friendship changing and growing into a poly relationship.

Make It Up As We Go Along by lululawrence/@lululawrence (52000, Not Rated, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik/Liam Payne/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

A baby left on their doorstep shakes up their lives. A Three Men and a Baby AU

Reccer says: There's so much chaos and it comes together brilliantly with the addition of each of the boys.

The Grundy County Auction Incident by haztobegood/@haztobegood (4000, Teen, Nick Grimshaw/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

Harry is a sugar baby on the lookout for a new daddy (or two) at a rural livestock auction.

Reccer says: It is inspired by the country song The Grundy County Auction Incident

[thebroccolination]

THE DIRECTORS OF “THAMEPO” AND “BE MY FAVORITE”

After “ThamePo” ended, I was perusing the Instagram stories of the cast, and I decided to check out the director’s page too since “ThamePo” was her baby that she apparently held onto for five years (!) until she had the right cast to do it justice, and I have an enormous amount of respect for her.

And look who she posted about:

Waa, the other director I have an immense amount of respect for! And I immediately thought, “Ohhhh, these two having mutual respect for each other makes sense.”

I don’t want to trust auto-translate but I think the gist of her caption is that she always knew he’d do great things, and she’s proud of the work he did on a certain movie called “Love You to Debt.”

Which is the movie that Thame and Po can’t get around to finishing because they have to make out instead.

But y’know what she also included in “ThamePo” that’s directed by Waa?

“Good Old Days”! The series Thame and Po watch that first time they spend all night talking on the phone.

It’s fairly common for GMMTV series to sneak snippets of other series into the narrative, but I love that Mui chose two of Waa’s to feature.

It gave me a little spark of joy to see this overlap of directors, because of all the Thai series I’ve seen, I think “ThamePo” and “Be My Favorite” are the all-rounder best in overall quality thanks in large part to the dedication of their directors who also worked on the scripts. And in both instances, they truly brought the best out of their actors.

Mui knew Est was the lead she was waiting for, and Waa wanted to work with Krist again after working with him on “Good Old Days.” As protagonists, Est and Krist brought a lot of pathos to Po and Kawi, and both roles asked a lot of them in different ways. Po’s character grows in such a quiet way that Est didn’t have a ton of emotional range to work with, so he really had to knuckle down and find small ways to show it. Meanwhile Kawi runs the gamut of extremes and it took an enormous amount of physical energy from Krist to convey it all. Mui had to make sure Po was still visually interesting, and Waa had to keep all of Kawi’s extremes balanced so he still came across as realistic.

But Waa and Mui also knew how to get the best performance from their less experienced actors, too.

“Be My Favorite” was Gawin’s first lead performance after a slew of side characters and cameos. He was cast as Pisaeng after 1) Singto turned down the role to go freelance and 2) Mike left the production, but Gawin really made that role his. In behind the scenes interviews, Gawin said that Waa both expected and asked a lot from him, and his acting saw sharp improvement as a result. Gawin was always good at playing outwardly sassy characters, but Waa helped him prioritize portraying Pisaeng’s interiority. Pisaeng has that same sass Gawin is known for portraying, but there’s also got a lot going on that Pisaeng can’t and won’t express in words or actions, and that was a real challenge Gawin pulled off beautifully under Waa’s meticulous direction.

Meanwhile, “ThamePo” is William’s first series ever and bro, what a powerhouse this kid is already. But a lot of what makes his performance really shine are the guidance given and choices made by Mui. His unbroken soft-spoken delivery as Thame, the long holds on his face to give him space to emote, etc. I think it was a genius decision to have Thame never raise his voice in anger or fear or anything, not even once, and that definitely came from the director. Having Thame express his strongest emotions quietly made a profound impact and gave real nuance to his character.

When I heard that Mui had been holding onto this script for years because she hadn’t found the right fit yet, it immediately made me think of “Be My Favorite.” In a podcast interview in 2023, Waa said he told GMMTV at some point early on that he needed more time to work on the script for “Be My Favorite,” that he wanted all the major characters to have their own separate arcs, and that he didn’t care how much the fans complained about the wait, because he wasn’t doing it for them. “Be My Favorite” became his favorite child of all his productions even though he knew before it aired that it wasn’t going to be a massive hit for him in large part because of ~fandom politics~ (the atypical casting meant both sets of fandoms loudly planned to boycott it—and did). His only concern was making a series he was proud of, and in the long run, the pettiness of the fandoms won’t be remembered, but the quality of the series will.

Directors like Mui and Waa are the kinds of champions I always hope for with queer series. Because of course they want people to watch their work, but they’re creators before they’re anything else, and you can see their passion and devotion to craft in every frame of their work.

Sometimes a series is just a vessel to launch an actor to popularity so they can sell things and make money for the company who signed them.

Sometimes—if you have the right people—it’s art.

[fr0stf4ll]

Forge of Starlight - Epilogue - A New Dawn

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the heart of Velaris, a skilled blacksmith's quiet life is turned upside down when unexpected bonds begin to form with the enigmatic Spymaster of the Night Court. As she navigates the challenges of her craft and the complexities of newfound relationships, she discovers that love and loyalty may be the strongest forces of all in a world where darkness often lingers just beyond the light.

word count ; 4.1k

warning; mentions of death, fight.

notes; Hey so here is the last chapter of the story, i hope that you enjoyed it. It was something very new to me to write such story but i'm happy that some of you stayed until the end. I'm working on some one shots for the moment, much lighter than this story, my requests are also open for those who have ideas. See you soon and thank you again <333

here is the link for part 16

---

The first rays of morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. You stirred in the warmth of your bed, the familiar scent of home wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. As you slowly blinked your eyes open, the first thing you saw was Azriel, lying beside you, his gaze already on you, filled with love and warmth.

“Hello, my love,” he whispered, his voice soft and tender as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face.

A smile spread across your lips as you leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand on your cheek grounding you in the present, in this moment that was filled with peace and contentment. You reached out, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him close as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent.

“Good morning,” you murmured against his skin, your voice still thick with sleep but laced with happiness. You hugged him tighter, savoring the feeling of his strong arms wrapping around you in return, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go.

These were the moments you cherished most—the quiet, peaceful mornings where it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, the world outside nothing more than a distant memory. It was a far cry from the life you had once lived, filled with turmoil and pain, but now… now, there was only love, only happiness.

After a few moments, you pulled back slightly to look at him, your eyes tracing the familiar lines of his face. There was a softness in his gaze, a quiet joy that made your heart swell with love.

“I still can’t believe this is our life,” you whispered, your fingers gently brushing over his cheek. “That we’re here, together, after everything…”

Azriel’s smile deepened, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, pulling you close for a gentle, lingering kiss. “It’s our life, Y/N. Our home. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.”

You glanced around the room, taking in the space that had become your sanctuary, your haven. The apartment was different from the one you had once shared with Alex, the one filled with so many memories—both good and painful. This was a new place, a new beginning. The walls were painted a soft, calming shade, and the furniture was a mix of both your tastes—modern pieces blended with rustic touches that gave the space warmth and character.

It was your home, yours and Azriel’s, and every corner of it reflected the life you were building together.

The decision to move had been difficult, but ultimately necessary. You had wanted a fresh start, a place that wasn’t haunted by the ghosts of your past, a place where you and Azriel could build something new, something that was just yours. And here, in this apartment in the heart of Velaris, you had found that.

“Are you happy?” Azriel asked, his voice gentle as he searched your eyes, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

You nodded, a smile spreading across your lips as you leaned into his touch. “I am. More than I ever thought I could be.”

Azriel’s eyes softened, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, holding you close. “Good. That’s all I ever wanted for you.”

You sighed contentedly, resting your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “And you? Are you happy?”

He chuckled softly, his hand gently stroking your hair. “How could I not be? I have everything I’ve ever wanted, right here with you.”

You closed your eyes, letting the peace of the moment wash over you. Two years had passed since that fateful night in the forest, since you had reclaimed your power and your life. So much had changed since then, but through it all, Azriel had been by your side, your constant, your anchor.

Becoming the emissary of the Night Court had been a natural progression. You had always been skilled in diplomacy, in navigating the complex web of relationships between the courts. And now, you used those skills to strengthen the Night Court’s position, to forge new alliances and maintain old ones. It was a role that suited you, that gave you purpose.

But even though you had taken on this new role, you hadn’t completely left behind the forge. Blacksmithing was still a part of you, a part of your soul. Now, it was more of a hobby, something you did when you needed to clear your mind or when inspiration struck. You had set up a small workshop in the apartment, where you would spend hours tinkering with new designs, creating weapons that were as much art as they were instruments of war.

It was a balance that brought you peace, a way to honor your past while embracing your future.

As you lay there in Azriel’s arms, you couldn’t help but think about how far you had come, how much you had grown. The pain of the past would always be a part of you, but it no longer defined you. You had found a way to move forward, to build a life filled with love and happiness.

Azriel shifted slightly, his hand tilting your chin up so that you were looking into his eyes. “What are you thinking about?”

You smiled softly, your hand coming up to rest over his heart. “Just… everything. How lucky I am. How grateful I am to have you.”

He smiled, his thumb brushing over your lips before he leaned in to kiss you, slow and sweet. “I’m the lucky one,” he murmured against your lips.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “We’re both lucky, then.”

He pulled you closer, holding you tight as if he never wanted to let go. And in that moment, you knew that this was where you were meant to be—right here, in Azriel’s arms, in the home you had built together.

And no matter what the future held, you knew that you would face it together, with love, with strength, and with the unbreakable bond that had brought you both to this moment.

As the morning light grew brighter, you felt a sense of peace settle over you, a quiet contentment that filled your heart. This was your life now, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

The day passed peacefully, a gentle rhythm of tasks and small moments of joy that filled your new home with warmth. As evening approached, the anticipation of gathering with the Inner Circle brought a sense of excitement. The bond you had with Azriel’s family—the family you had become a part of—was stronger than ever. Tonight was just one of those nights where you could all come together, relax, and enjoy each other's company.

You dressed in something simple yet elegant, a deep blue dress that complemented the rich tones of Azriel’s favorite color. He smiled approvingly when he saw you, his eyes lingering with a mix of admiration and love. “You look stunning,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“Thank you,” you replied, returning the affection with a gentle smile. “And you look as dashing as ever.”

Azriel, in his usual dark attire that fit him perfectly, offered you his arm, and together, you made your way through the winding streets of Velaris to the townhouse where the rest of the Inner Circle awaited. The stars were just beginning to appear in the sky, twinkling above like a promise of the good night ahead.

When you arrived, the townhouse was already filled with the familiar sounds of laughter and conversation. The scent of delicious food wafted through the air, mingling with the warmth and comfort that always radiated from this place.

As you stepped inside, you were immediately greeted by Cassian’s booming voice. “There they are! Took you two long enough.”

You laughed, shaking your head as Cassian pulled you into a bear hug. “Good to see you too, Cassian,” you teased, patting his back before he released you.

Mor was next, her smile bright as she took your hands, squeezing them affectionately. “You look radiant, Y/N. I’m so glad you’re here. You have to tell me everything, how was the Summer Court, you have been there for two whole weeks. ”

“Of course haha. It’s good to be here,” you replied, returning her smile. Mor’s warmth and friendship had been a constant source of comfort over the years, and you cherished her for it.

Amren, ever the enigma, nodded to you from her place near the fireplace, her sharp gaze softened just enough to convey her approval. You nodded back, grateful for the bond you had formed with her—a bond built on mutual respect and understanding.

Rhysand was the last to greet you, his expression filled with genuine affection as he embraced you. “Welcome, Y/N. It’s not the same without you here.”

“Thank you, Rhys,” you replied, feeling the warmth of his words settle in your heart.

The dinner that followed was filled with laughter, stories, and the easy camaraderie that had come to define your time with the Inner Circle. The food was delicious, as always, and the wine flowed freely as the conversation moved from topic to topic.

At one point, Cassian leaned back in his chair, a mischievous grin on his face. “So, Y/N, how’s the emissary life treating you? Got any juicy tales of court intrigue to share?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “It’s been interesting, to say the least. But I think you’ll have to wait for the next Night Court council meeting for the really juicy details.”

Cassian groaned, pretending to be disappointed. “You’re no fun.”

Mor, sitting beside him, elbowed him playfully. “Leave her alone, Cass. She’s already done enough, wrangling all those high lords and their egos.”

“I’m sure Y/N has some good stories,” Rhysand chimed in, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “After all, she’s met some rather interesting characters over the years.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. “Oh, there have been a few. But I think the best story is how I managed to survive the chaos of this lot.”

Azriel squeezed your hand under the table, his smile softening as he looked at you. “You’ve done more than survive. You’ve thrived.”

The conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on everything from the latest news in Prythian to the more personal, day-to-day happenings in Velaris. There was an ease to it, a sense of belonging that made you feel truly at home.

As the evening wore on, the group moved to the sitting room, where more wine was poured and the fire crackled warmly in the hearth. You found yourself nestled on the couch beside Azriel, his arm draped comfortably around your shoulders.

Rhysand raised his glass, his gaze sweeping over the room. “To family,” he said, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity. “To the bonds we share, and to the future we’re building together.”

Everyone raised their glasses in a toast, echoing his words. “To family.”

You sipped your wine, feeling the truth of those words resonate deep within you. This was your family now—these incredible, powerful, and loving people who had welcomed you into their lives and hearts. And as you sat there, surrounded by laughter and warmth, you knew that this was exactly where you were meant to be.

The night eventually wound down, and one by one, the members of the Inner Circle began to make their way home. Cassian and Mor were the first to leave, Cassian pulling you into another hug and whispering a teasing remark about not working too hard. Mor kissed your cheek, promising to visit you soon for some “much-needed girl time.”

Amren nodded to you as she departed, a rare but genuine smile playing on her lips. Rhysand was the last to see you off, his hand resting on your shoulder as he looked into your eyes.

“You’ve come a long way, Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice filled with pride. “We’re lucky to have you with us.”

You smiled, feeling a lump in your throat as you nodded. “I’m lucky to have all of you.”

With that, you and Azriel made your way back to your apartment, the night air cool and refreshing as you walked through the quiet streets of Velaris. The city was bathed in moonlight, the stars twinkling above like a promise of all the good things still to come.

When you finally reached your home, you paused at the door, turning to look at Azriel. His expression was soft, filled with the same love and affection you had seen that morning.

“Ready to call it a night?” he asked, his voice low and gentle.

You smiled, feeling a sense of peace settle over you as you nodded. “Yes, let’s go home.”

—

The cemetery was quiet, the air filled with the faint scent of blooming flowers as spring finally began to take hold of the land. You walked slowly along the path, the familiar weight of the past pressing lightly on your shoulders. It had been a long time since you’d visited this place—too long, and the guilt of it lingered in your chest.

As you approached Alex’s grave, a sense of peace washed over you. The headstone was simple, yet elegant, adorned with a few weathered tokens left by you and others over the years. You knelt down, reaching out to gently brush away a few stray leaves that had settled on the stone.

“Hi, Alex,” you whispered, your voice soft as the memories flooded back. “I’m sorry it’s been so long since I visited. Life has been… well, it’s been busy.”

You sat down, crossing your legs beneath you as you let the silence stretch between you and the grave. It felt good to be here, to talk to him, even if he couldn’t answer.

“I’ve been working as an emissary for the Night Court,” you began, a small smile playing on your lips. “It’s been challenging, but I think I’m making a difference. I’ve visited nearly every court, negotiating, building relationships. I even went back to the Day Court recently. Helion still hasn’t given up on trying to recruit me, by the way.”

You chuckled softly, imagining how Alex would have laughed at that.

“The shop… it’s closed now. I still do some blacksmithing, but it’s more of a hobby than anything else. I think you’d understand why I needed to step away from it, why it was important to start fresh. Azriel and I have a new apartment in Velaris—our home. It’s a place where we can build something new, something just for us.”

You paused, your fingers idly tracing the grooves in the stone. “I miss you, Alex. I think about you all the time. There’s so much I wish you could have seen, so much I wish we could have done together. But I hope… I hope you’re at peace.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of all that had been left unsaid. You felt a lump form in your throat, but you swallowed it down, determined to keep your voice steady.

“I love you,” you whispered, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. “I always will.”

As you sat there in the quiet, you felt a gentle touch on your elbow. You turned to see Azriel standing beside you, his expression soft and understanding. “It’s time to go,” he said gently, his voice filled with warmth. “We have dinner tonight, with everyone.”

You nodded, giving the grave one last lingering look. “I’ll be back soon, Alex,” you promised. “And I’ll bring you more stories.”

As you stood up, your eyes caught sight of something near the base of the headstone—a small, delicate flower, its petals a brilliant shade of blue, the same color as the flames of your power. It hadn’t been there before, and its sudden appearance felt like a sign, a gentle reminder that life goes on, that new beginnings are always possible, even after the coldest winters.

You smiled, a sense of calm settling over you as you took Azriel’s hand, feeling his warmth seep into your skin. Together, you turned and walked away from the grave, leaving behind the past but carrying its memory with you.

As you left the cemetery, the sky above was clear, the stars beginning to twinkle as evening approached. The world felt alive, vibrant, full of promise. And as you and Azriel made your way to the townhouse, ready to join your family for dinner, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be—moving forward, with love, with hope, and with the strength of those who had come before you.

The small blue flower by Alex’s grave swayed gently in the breeze, a symbol of the new life that spring had brought, a life that you would continue to cherish and honor, now and always.

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