#from people who want to convince me that Vi is a bad person.

[unknown-cold]

Yes there are characters who suffered in the show (I don't deny that) but at least they had some good times, unlike Vi who since she was young cares and takes responsibility for others. And after all the trauma Vi went through in episode 3 as a teenager, she was locked up in prison for 7 years.

And when she got out of prison she didn't rest, she went looking for her sister. And after all this she had to accept the fact that her sister is gone forever, and I'm sure this is one of the hardest facts for Vi to accept that her sister had turned into a monster and Vi will think she's responsible for Jinx's actions.

(I know I've talked about this a lot, but I won't stop talking about it. Firstly, because until now I still receive messages telling me that I shouldn't defend Vi and that Jinx is the only main character in the show and that she is the most suffering character and other such talk, and I just want to tell them that I will not stop talking about Vi's character and I will not stop defending her, and for me Vi is the best character in the entire show and no one can change my opinion)

[anticipatedexhale]

Can you do the arcane characters with a s/o who is obsessed with their looks and how they’re perceived to others?

Hellooo <3 ofc I can!!

Just a disclaimer u are absolutely gorgeous and wonderful just the way you are! Inside and out! Don't let fake standards and false words put by society get to you please, love yourself just the way u are because although it's the hardest type of love to achieve it's also the most fulfilling<33

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Wish I could be like you, but I’m not that cool.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧୨୧

♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, ekko, jayce, jinx, mel, viktor, vi, sevika

☆ ◞ summary: when you care too much it starts to backfire on you, when you think you lost everything they are right beside you.

△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader, tons of bad talk about ones body and self, insecurities that may be triggering you some so please be careful while reading.

Jayce Talis.

Jayce had always been confident—he knew who he was, what he stood for, and never really cared much about what others thought of him. So when he started noticing how much you worried about your looks and how people perceived you, it caught him off guard.

At first, he thought it was just normal self-care. Everyone liked to look good, right? But then he started picking up on the little things.

The way you’d constantly check your reflection in any shiny surface you passed. The way you’d subtly adjust your outfit over and over, as if trying to perfect it. How you’d bite your lip and glance around nervously when someone so much as whispered near you, convinced it was about you.

And when you two were out together? Forget about it. You agonized over every detail—your hair, your posture, your expressions. Always making sure you were just right.

Jayce hated seeing you stress over it.

One evening, you were getting ready for an event, adjusting your outfit for what felt like the fiftieth time, inspecting yourself in the mirror with a deep frown.

"Does this look okay?" you asked for the third time in ten minutes. "Maybe I should change. Do you think people will—"

Jayce sighed and gently grabbed your hands, pulling you away from the mirror.

“Babe,” he said softly, his brows furrowed in concern. “Why does it matter so much what other people think?”

You hesitated, looking down. “I just… I don’t want to embarrass you. Or myself. People talk, Jayce.”

His expression softened. “I don’t give a damn what people say. And you shouldn’t either.”

You sighed, but he wasn’t done. He cupped your face, tilting it up so you had to look at him.

“You’re already perfect,” he murmured. “I don’t care what you’re wearing, how your hair looks, or what people think. They don’t see what I see.”

You swallowed, throat tight. “…And what do you see?”

His lips quirked into a small smile. “Someone incredible. Someone who makes me laugh, who makes me proud every damn day. Someone I’d still be crazy about even if you walked into that party wearing mismatched shoes and a potato sack.”

You let out a startled laugh, rolling your eyes. “A potato sack?”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Yep. You’d still be the best-looking person in the room.”

You sighed, leaning into his touch. “…You really don’t care?”

“Not one bit,” he promised. “I just want you to be happy. Not stressing over what a bunch of nobodies think.”

His words hit deep. And for the first time in a long time, you actually believed them.

Maybe—just maybe—you didn’t need everyone else’s approval.

Maybe Jayce’s was enough.

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Mel Medarda.

Mel had always been surrounded by high society, where appearances were more than just about beauty—they were about power, influence, and command. She’d been taught from a young age how to control the room with a well-placed smile, a confident stance, and the right attire. But while she had mastered the art of fitting into the expectations of others, she’d never let them control her.

When she first noticed your obsession with your appearance—how you would fret over the smallest detail, constantly worry about what others thought, and always seek validation from the people around you—she didn’t rush to correct you. Instead, she observed, trying to understand why it mattered so much to you.

One evening, you were preparing for another event, this time a gala held by Piltover’s elite. You stood in front of the mirror, your eyes darting between your reflection and the wardrobe full of options, your fingers pulling at your hair, your expression one of deep dissatisfaction.

“Mel,” you said, voice tinged with frustration. “I don’t think I’m ready for this. I’m just not—”

She stepped into the room with the effortless grace she was known for, her gaze soft yet intense as she approached you. “You’re just not what?” she asked, her voice calm but laced with concern.

“I don’t know… I feel like I don’t belong here,” you confessed, your hands wringing together. “I keep thinking about what people will say when they see me. What if they don’t think I’m… enough?”

Mel’s brow furrowed as she gently placed her hands on your shoulders, turning you to face her fully. “Let me ask you something,” she began, her tone serious but tender. “Why do you care so much about what they think?”

You looked down, not quite able to meet her eyes. “Because if I don’t look a certain way, if I’m not perfect, I feel like I won’t matter.”

Mel took a deep breath, stepping closer to you, her hands gently lifting your chin so you had no choice but to look at her. Her gaze softened as she studied you for a moment, her fingers brushing the side of your face.

“Sweetheart,” she began, her voice quiet but steady. “You are already more than enough. I’ve seen you, not just with your looks, but with your heart, your intelligence, your strength.” She smiled softly. “You think people are only judging you based on how you look, but the truth is, they want to see you. They want to know you—the person who carries themselves with such grace and confidence, the one who makes them wonder how they missed such brilliance.”

You felt a lump form in your throat as her words sank in.

“I’ve spent so much of my life trying to fit into others' expectations. To be what people wanted me to be,” Mel continued, her eyes locking with yours, unwavering. “But I realized that I will never be happy that way. And neither will you. So stop letting your worth be defined by others. You have everything you need inside of you already.”

You blinked, the warmth of her words washing over you. “But… I still feel like I’m not enough sometimes.”

Mel gently cupped your face, leaning in until her forehead rested against yours. “Then let me remind you every day how much you mean to me. You’re perfect just as you are.”

You swallowed, a smile tugging at your lips. “I think I’m starting to believe you.”

With a soft chuckle, Mel pulled back slightly. “Good. Now let’s go out there, and when they look at you, let them see the amazing person I see.”

And as she helped you get dressed, there was a quiet understanding between you two. Mel never pressured you to be anyone else, but she also knew how to help you realize that you had more power than you gave yourself credit for.

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Viktor.

Viktor’s perspective on beauty had always been one of deep pragmatism. His entire life had been about improving, evolving, and focusing on the mind’s capacity to achieve, while the world outside often seemed obsessed with superficial qualities. He’d never cared much for what others thought of him or how he looked. But when it came to you, it was different.

He’d noticed, more and more, how often you seemed preoccupied with your appearance. You would spend hours before a mirror, adjusting your clothes or making sure every strand of hair was in place, always worried about what others might think. Sometimes, even after all the effort, there was a quiet dissatisfaction in your expression, and it made him wonder how much you truly believed in yourself.

One evening, after a long day of work, Viktor arrived home to find you sitting on the couch, still in your outfit from earlier. Your gaze was fixed on your phone screen, scrolling through images of other people’s lives, comparing your appearance to theirs. Your posture was tense, your brows furrowed in frustration.

Viktor quietly approached, his voice soft yet steady as he spoke your name. “You’re still awake? What’s going on, love?”

You glanced up, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Just thinking. About how everyone seems to have it all figured out. How they look perfect, and I’m… well, I don’t know.” You trailed off, your gaze dropping back to your phone.

Viktor, noticing the sharp contrast between your usual confident self and the person sitting before him, knelt beside the couch, taking your hand gently in his. His tone was patient, understanding, but there was a certain firmness that made you look up at him.

“Your worth has never been determined by someone else’s perception of you,” he said, his voice quiet but intense. “You’ve spent so much time trying to please others, trying to fit a mold you never asked for. But I need you to understand something, love…”

You looked at him, unsure, waiting for him to continue.

“You are far more than just the sum of your physical appearance or the validation of others,” Viktor continued, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You are a person of substance, of intellect, of heart. And that’s what I fell in love with. Not the way you look, but who you are.”

You swallowed, feeling a lump in your throat. Viktor’s gaze softened as he reached for your hand, gently lifting it to his lips. “And you don’t need to change for anyone. Not for me, not for anyone.”

There was silence between you, broken only by the soft hum of the city outside. His words settled in your chest, easing the tension that had built up over the past few hours.

“I just feel like I’m constantly chasing something I can never achieve,” you admitted quietly. “Trying to be perfect, trying to be what everyone else expects.”

Viktor’s eyes darkened with concern, but he smiled gently. “What if I told you that the most perfect version of yourself is already here? Right now, in this moment? That you are more than enough, as you are?”

His words were simple, but they carried the weight of years of wisdom, of someone who had seen the world through a lens of endless improvement. Slowly, you found yourself leaning into him, feeling the comfort of his embrace and the security of his steady presence.

“I’m still learning, Viktor,” you whispered, your head resting against his chest. “Learning to accept myself.”

“And I’ll be here,” he murmured, his voice warm and unwavering. “Every step of the way. To remind you that you’re perfect, not because of how you look, but because of who you are.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of his words sink deep into your soul. In that moment, with Viktor by your side, you realized that the person you needed to please the most was yourself. And with him, you finally understood that your worth was never tied to anyone’s expectations—but rather, to the person you were, inside and out.

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Caitlyn kiramman.

Caitlyn was never one to place much value on appearances. Sure, she knew the importance of looking presentable, especially in her position, but she also understood that true beauty went beyond what the eye could see. For Caitlyn, what truly mattered were values, intellect, and integrity. But when she noticed you often fretting over your appearance, constantly adjusting your outfit, and seeking validation from others, it tugged at her heart. She could tell you weren’t feeling your best, but didn’t know how to reach you—until one quiet evening.

After a long day at work, Caitlyn came home to find you in front of the mirror once again, changing clothes, adjusting your makeup, and constantly re-evaluating your reflection. She leaned in the doorway for a moment, watching you with a concerned expression.

You didn’t even notice her at first, your mind lost in the whirlwind of doubts that always seemed to surface when you weren’t in her company. “I don’t know, Cait. What if I’m not enough?” you muttered under your breath, pulling at the collar of your shirt as if it could make you feel better. “What if they don’t think I’m… beautiful enough?”

Caitlyn stepped into the room quietly, her voice gentle but firm. “Why do you think that?”

You jumped, not expecting her to be standing so close. “Oh… I didn’t hear you.” You gave a weak smile, clearly still upset.

“Babe, what’s going on? You’ve been like this for a while now,” she said softly, her eyes meeting yours. She stepped closer and reached for your hand, her touch warm and reassuring. “What are you looking for?”

You hesitated, glancing at your reflection before turning to face her. “I just… I feel like people judge me all the time. What if they don’t like how I look? What if I’m too much for them? Or not enough?”

Caitlyn’s expression softened with a mix of empathy and concern. She could feel how deeply you were struggling, and though she didn’t share your worries about appearances, she understood the burden of those feelings. She gently cupped your face in her hands, tilting your chin so your eyes met hers.

“Look at me,” she said, her voice low but confident. “You are enough. Right now, in this moment, you’re more than enough.”

You blinked, her words striking a chord deep inside. “But what if people think I’m…”

She cut you off gently. “You are beautiful, but more than that, you’re incredible. You make a difference. You’re kind, intelligent, and strong. No outfit or hairstyle is going to change that.”

You felt a lump form in your throat as her words began to sink in. “But what if I’m not… what people expect?”

Caitlyn smiled, her hands gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You don’t need to live up to anyone’s expectations but your own. I fell in love with you for who you are, not because of how you look. And I’ve never been more proud of you than I am right now, just by being yourself.”

Her sincerity made your heart swell, and despite your lingering doubts, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. Caitlyn didn’t care about the opinions of others; she cared about you—and that was all that mattered.

“I guess I’ve been so focused on trying to be perfect that I forgot how to just be me,” you admitted softly.

Caitlyn chuckled, her thumbs gently rubbing circles on your cheeks. “And I’ll remind you every day that you don’t need to be perfect for anyone. You’re perfect for me.”

You leaned into her touch, a sense of comfort settling in your chest. “Thank you, Cait. I really needed to hear that.”

She smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Anytime. And just so you know, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out. You don’t have to change a thing.”

In that moment, you realized that your true beauty didn’t lie in how others saw you, but in how Caitlyn saw you—and how you saw yourself when you let go of the expectations that had once held you back.

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Vi.

Vi had always been more about strength and character than appearances. She had a no-nonsense attitude and didn’t care much for superficial things. Whether in a fight or just hanging out, she preferred to focus on what truly mattered—what was inside a person. So when she noticed you obsessing over how you looked, constantly tweaking your outfit or worrying about how others perceived you, it threw her off. She couldn’t quite understand why you’d feel like you weren’t enough when to her, you were already perfect just as you were.

One evening, after a particularly tough day, Vi returned home to find you sitting on the couch, eyes glued to your phone, flipping through social media. You’d been quiet all evening, and she could tell something was bothering you. As she approached, she noticed you adjusting your outfit for the fourth time, pulling at the hem of your shirt, checking the mirror again.

Vi raised an eyebrow, concern flashing across her face. “You good, babe? You seem a little… distracted.”

You didn’t look up, still preoccupied with your reflection. “I don’t know. I just feel like people always judge me. I mean, look at them, Vi,” you said, showing her your phone screen, where a bunch of influencers and well-dressed people filled the screen. “Why can’t I look like that? I don’t know… I just feel like I’m never enough, no matter what I do.”

Vi looked at the screen for a moment before setting it down gently, stepping closer to you. “Hey, look at me,” she said, her voice a little more serious now. “I don’t get it. You’ve got all this beauty inside and out, and you’re worried about some picture on a screen?”

You gave a little laugh, but it was hollow. “It’s not just a picture, Vi. People always notice what I wear, what I look like. I feel like I’m always trying to fit into something I’m not.”

Vi tilted your chin up, meeting your eyes with that intense, protective gaze of hers. “You don’t need to fit into any mold, babe. You’re not some... trend to follow. You’re you. And trust me, that’s more than enough.”

You looked away, unsure. "But people don't see that. They only care about the surface."

Vi sighed, her expression softening as she sat next to you. She took your hand in hers, her grip strong but comforting. "You know what I see when I look at you? I see a person who's been through a lot, someone who doesn't need to put on a mask to be loved. Someone who's real. And that's what makes you so amazing. I don't give a damn about what anyone else thinks. And I know you don't need to change for anyone."

You let out a breath, trying to hold back the feelings bubbling up inside. Vi, with her blunt honesty and genuine affection, had a way of cutting through the noise, and for the first time in a while, you felt like maybe you weren’t as lost as you thought.

Vi leaned in, resting her forehead against yours. “You know I love you for exactly who you are, right? And if you’re worried about how others see you, then maybe you should let them see the real you. Because that’s who I love. The real you. Not some version of you trying to impress everyone else.”

You could feel her words sinking in, easing the pressure you hadn’t even realized had been building. You felt a sense of calm begin to wash over you as Vi’s embrace tightened, holding you close.

"I know I'm tough and rough around the edges," she whispered, a playful smile tugging at her lips, "but you don’t need to be anything other than what makes you happy. And if that means wearing your favorite old shirt or going makeup-free, I’m still gonna think you’re the best thing in the world."

A small laugh escaped your lips, and you found yourself relaxing into her warmth. “Thanks, Vi. I needed that.”

Vi grinned, kissing the top of your head. “Anytime, babe. Just remember: you’re perfect to me, just the way you are.”

In that moment, surrounded by her love and honesty, you realized that the only opinion that truly mattered was the one that came from within—and with Vi, you were finally starting to believe it.

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Jinx.

Jinx was many things—chaotic, unpredictable, and loud—but when it came to you, she was surprisingly sensitive. Her world had always been in a constant state of madness, but there was something calming about being with you. You were her rock, her one constant in the storm. That’s why it bothered her so much when she noticed you obsessing over how you looked, always fidgeting with your clothes, your hair, or your makeup, constantly worried about how others saw you.

One evening, after a particularly wild day of mayhem (courtesy of Jinx, of course), you sat on the couch, staring at your phone screen. Your brows were furrowed, your thumb scrolling through social media, comparing yourself to others. Jinx had been watching you for a while, and it was starting to get under her skin.

"Hey, you!" she suddenly called out, practically throwing herself onto the couch next to you, her usual enthusiasm filling the room.

You jumped a little, distracted. “Oh, hey, Jinx. What’s up?” You didn’t look up from your phone, still fixated on the images that seemed to be making you feel worse with every swipe.

Jinx tilted her head, studying your face closely. Her blue hair bounced as she moved, and her expression softened just a little. “You’ve been like this for a while now,” she said, a hint of concern lacing her voice. “Why do you keep looking at that stuff?”

You sighed, showing her your phone. “I don’t know. I just feel like I’m always trying to keep up with everyone else, you know? They always look so… perfect. I feel like I don’t measure up.”

Jinx blinked, her usual manic energy quieting for a moment as she processed your words. "What do you mean, perfect?" she asked, her voice almost childlike in its confusion. “Perfect’s boring, though! I mean, sure, it’s fun to be perfectly insane, but... you’re way cooler than perfect! Who needs to be that?”

You looked at her, a little unsure. “I just… I don’t know, Jinx. I feel like I’m always trying to be someone I’m not, trying to look like everyone else. But nothing ever feels good enough.”

Jinx leaned back dramatically, her arms spread wide. “You wanna know something? I don’t think you need to look like anyone else, ever!” she said, her eyes wide and full of her usual chaotic energy. “You’re already amazing the way you are, and I don’t get why you keep looking at that stuff. I mean, look at me—no one can look like me and that’s what makes me awesome! So you just need to be you, okay?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at her randomness, even as a weight still sat heavy in your chest. Jinx smiled brightly, completely oblivious to the way her words were beginning to work their magic. “I know you think you gotta be something you’re not, but I love you just as you are. You’re like… the best thing ever! You don’t need to change anything to impress anyone, especially not me.”

She leaned forward then, her hands clasping yours tightly. Her wild eyes softened as she looked at you with an intensity that was rare for her. “I love you, okay? You—with all the stuff you think isn’t perfect. I don’t need a perfect you. I need you, the one with all the quirks and the weird little things that make you you!”

You blinked, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at her words. Jinx had a way of making things seem so much lighter, her chaotic nature always breaking through the heaviness of your own doubts. Her laugh was like music, and the more she spoke, the more you felt the pressure you had been putting on yourself start to lift.

“Jinx,” you whispered, squeezing her hand. “Thank you. I think I just needed to hear it from you. I’ve been so focused on trying to change, I forgot what made me… me.”

“Exactly!” Jinx exclaimed, throwing her hands up like she had just made the greatest revelation in the world. “Just be you, and if anyone else doesn’t get it, then they’re the ones who are messed up! You’re freaking awesome, and I’m lucky to have you.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around you with surprising gentleness. "Don’t ever try to be anything other than you again, okay?" she whispered into your ear. “I think you’re perfect just the way you are.”

You rested your head on her shoulder, feeling a sense of comfort in the chaos that only Jinx could provide. With her by your side, maybe, just maybe, you could start to let go of the expectations that others had placed on you—and just embrace the person you were.

And with that, Jinx’s chaotic energy became the balm you didn’t know you needed, reminding you that in this world of uncertainty, the most important thing was being true to yourself.

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Ekko.

Ekko had always been a little different. The way he saw the world wasn’t about appearances or surface-level stuff—it was about people, their hearts, and their actions. It wasn’t lost on him that you seemed to care a lot about how others perceived you, constantly stressing over what to wear, how to look, or whether you were keeping up with the trends. At first, he didn’t really understand it. Why would you care what other people thought when you were already so incredible in his eyes?

One evening, after working on his latest invention in the workshop, Ekko was looking forward to spending some quiet time with you. He’d been busy with the repairs and inventions for the underground, but when he finally entered the room, he immediately noticed something different about you. You were sitting on the couch, flipping through a magazine, occasionally staring at the mirror, then back at the pages. The quiet tension in the air told him something was off.

He walked up to you and gently sat down next to you. "You okay?" he asked, his voice softer than usual. "You seem… distracted."

You looked up, surprised to see him. You hadn’t realized you were being so obvious about your self-doubt. "Oh, I’m fine," you lied, trying to smile. "Just… you know, trying to figure out what to wear tomorrow. Something that’ll make me look good enough for the crowd, y’know?"

Ekko frowned slightly. He could see the uncertainty in your eyes, the way your fingers were nervously flipping through pages. He didn’t need to be a genius to see that something was bothering you.

He leaned back against the couch, giving you a moment to breathe before speaking up again. “What crowd? I thought you were more about being yourself, not some image you’ve got to keep up with.”

You shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah, well… sometimes it’s hard. I mean, look at everyone else, Ekko. They’re all perfect—well-dressed, confident, always looking like they’ve got it all figured out. I just… I don’t know. I want to feel good about myself, but it feels like I’m always falling short.”

Ekko let out a small sigh. He had seen you struggle with this before, but hearing it out loud always tugged at his heart. He knew what it was like to feel like you didn’t measure up, especially in a world that made it easy to compare yourself to everyone around you. But to him, you were already more than enough.

"You don’t need to be like anyone else, you know that, right?" Ekko said, his voice calm yet serious. "I get it, everyone around here seems to care about appearances or ‘keeping up with the Joneses,’ but that’s not what makes someone special. You’re already incredible. The real you—not some idealized version of yourself—is what I love."

He took your hand, gently guiding you to face him. "It’s not about looking like someone else. It’s about being you. And when you’re you, that’s when you shine the brightest. You’re unique, and that’s what makes you stand out. Not some perfect look or what other people think."

You felt a lump form in your throat, his words piercing through the insecurities that had been building inside. Ekko was always so patient with you, always grounding you when the chaos of the world started to feel too heavy. His belief in you, in who you were as a person, was unwavering.

"Ekko, I’m just so used to trying to fit in," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "It feels like everyone expects me to be perfect, to look a certain way."

Ekko shook his head, his hand moving to brush your hair behind your ear, his touch gentle and tender. "You don’t need to fit into anyone’s box. You fit into mine, and that’s all that matters. You’ve got something they don’t—your heart, your mind, your creativity. You’ve always had it, and I see it every single day."

He stood up, giving you a playful grin. "You know what’s really cool about you? You can pull off anything—whether it’s a fancy outfit or a worn-out hoodie. You make it look good because it’s you. And honestly, that’s way more impressive than anything I’ve ever seen."

You couldn’t help but laugh, a little of the weight lifting off your shoulders as you finally met his eyes. “You really think that?”

Ekko nodded, his eyes full of sincerity. "More than anything. I’m proud of you, just the way you are. You don’t need anyone’s approval, especially not when you’ve already got mine."

You stood up to face him, feeling the warmth of his words sink in. There was no need to change for the world. You had Ekko, and that was more than enough to make you feel seen and loved.

"I love you, you know that?" you whispered.

Ekko grinned, his eyes lighting up as he pulled you into a hug. "I love you too, more than you’ll ever know."

In his arms, you felt safe—safe to be yourself, flaws and all. Maybe it wasn’t about perfection after all. Maybe it was about finding the people who truly saw you, the real you, and loving you for exactly who you were.

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Sevika.

The quiet buzz of the dimly lit workshop was disrupted by a small, sudden sigh. Sevika paused, her fingers lightly gripping the wrench she was working with as she looked over at you. You were at the far corner of the room, your attention focused on the full-length mirror. Your gaze was distant, eyes scanning every inch of yourself, your expression more tense than usual.

She could see the way your shoulders tensed, the slight frown on your lips, and she knew that look all too well. It was the look of someone caught in the trap of self-doubt, obsessing over things that didn't truly matter. Sevika, who always carried herself with quiet confidence, couldn't help but notice how much you seemed to care about things that didn’t define your worth—things like appearance, status, and the opinions of others.

Without saying a word, Sevika set her tools down and walked toward you, her large frame cutting through the space with the same assured steps she always had. There was something about your current mood that tugged at her, an instinct to take care of you when she saw you struggling.

She came up behind you, leaning her back against the wall and crossing her arms, just watching. There was no rush to intervene. Sevika had learned that sometimes, you needed time to process things on your own before anyone could help.

After a moment, you spoke without turning to face her. "Do you think they’d like me more if I looked different? I mean… everyone seems to have something special about them. What if I’m just… not good enough?"

The words hung in the air, fragile and raw. Sevika stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. "Hey," she said, her hand resting on your shoulder, urging you to meet her eyes. "You’re not ‘just’ anything. And you’re not here to be ‘liked’ by anyone else but yourself."

You swallowed, still unable to fully meet her gaze. "I don’t know, Sevika. I just—sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, I can’t live up to… to what they expect, to what everyone else has. I don’t know how to be comfortable with myself."

Sevika’s eyes softened, her hand gently turning your chin so that you finally faced her. "You don’t need to worry about them. You don’t need to worry about being perfect, because there’s no such thing. No one is perfect—not even the ones who pretend they are."

Her voice was steady, filled with that unwavering confidence that made her so impossible to ignore. "You’re one of the strongest people I know, and that’s not something that comes from looking a certain way. It comes from what you’ve been through, how you keep going despite everything. That’s what I admire about you. Not how you look, but the person you are."

Your breath caught, the frustration in your chest softening with her words. For a moment, you let yourself believe her, feeling the weight of your insecurities ease just a little.

"I think you forget sometimes that people who truly care about you… the ones who matter, don’t give a damn about your looks," Sevika continued, her thumb lightly tracing your cheek, her touch gentle yet powerful. "You think I’m here because you’ve got the perfect image? Nah. I’m here because you’ve got heart. You’ve always had it."

A rare, soft smile tugged at her lips as she leaned in slightly, her voice lowering to a near whisper. "And you think I’d let someone like you get away with being anything less than amazing?"

You chuckled softly, the tension melting away at the sincerity in her words. Sevika’s tough exterior had always been there, but in moments like this, she allowed her softer side to show, especially when it came to you. You could see in her eyes that she didn’t just mean what she was saying—she believed it wholeheartedly.

"Sevika, I—"

She cut you off, her finger lightly tapping your lips. "No more self-doubt. No more comparisons. You’re incredible. Just as you are."

For once, the mirror didn’t seem so important. It wasn’t about how others saw you, but how you saw yourself through her eyes. Sevika may not always say a lot, but in moments like this, her actions spoke volumes. You let yourself lean into her touch, the assurance in her presence becoming your anchor.

She leaned in close, her voice softer now, just for you. "Now, let’s forget about everyone else for a while, yeah? Tonight’s about you, about us. You don’t need to impress anyone but yourself."

And as you let her embrace you, a weight lifted, one you hadn’t even realized you were carrying.

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

Authors note: I really do apologize if this isn't to ur liking my darling or it feels repetitive I just really could not come up with different scenarios dear God I was about to crash out..

[shiningstarwrites]

Their bad habits in a relationship

Arcane Characters x Fem!Reader

Vi

• Pushing You Away: Vi has a bad habit of shutting you out when she’s hurting. After a particularly bad fight in Zaun, she avoids you completely, thinking it’s better to keep you at a distance than risk you getting hurt. You’re left wondering if you’ve done something wrong, the silence between you growing unbearable.

• Broken Promises: She promised to always come back to you, but one day, she doesn’t. When she finally returns, bruised and battered, she sees the hurt in your eyes and knows she’s broken your trust.

• Arguments About Safety: Vi can’t stand the thought of you being in danger, but her overprotectiveness leads to heated arguments. “I can handle myself, Vi!” you yell, and her voice breaks as she responds, “But what if you can’t? What if I lose you?”

• Haunted by the Past: Sometimes, Vi wakes up in the middle of the night, sweat on her brow and a look of pure terror in her eyes. She doesn’t want to talk about the nightmares, but when you try to comfort her, she just whispers, “I can’t lose you like I lost them.”

Jinx (Powder)

• Unpredictable Pain: Jinx’s volatile nature often leaves you walking on eggshells. One day, in a fit of paranoia, she accuses you of betraying her. The words cut deep, and though she regrets it later, the damage is done.

• Past vs. Present: Jinx struggles with the person she used to be and who she is now. She worries she’s not good enough for you, often saying things like, “Why would someone like you love someone as broken as me?”

• Explosive Arguments: Her emotions run wild, and when you fight, it’s like a storm. She says things she doesn’t mean, only realizing how deeply they’ve hurt you when you walk away in tears.

• Isolation: Sometimes, Jinx disappears for days without a word, leaving you to worry if she’s even alive. When she finally comes back, she’s tearful and apologetic but can’t promise she won’t do it again.

Caitlyn

• Duty vs. Love: Caitlyn’s role as an enforcer constantly pulls her away from you. She hates the look in your eyes every time she says, “I have to go,” but she can’t abandon her responsibilities, even when it means leaving you behind.

• Strain of Expectations: Her family’s high expectations often bleed into your relationship. When her mother makes a snide comment about your place in Caitlyn’s life, Caitlyn doesn’t defend you in the moment, leaving you feeling betrayed.

• Overworked and Distant: Caitlyn’s work consumes her, and while she swears she loves you, her late nights and constant absences leave you feeling like you’re always second place.

• A Moment Too Late: One day, you’re caught in the crossfire of a case she’s working on. Caitlyn arrives just in time to see you injured, the sight of your blood making her realize how much she’s taken you for granted.

Ekko

• The Weight of Leadership: As the leader of the Firelights, Ekko carries the weight of an entire community on his shoulders. He loves you, but he often feels like there’s no room for your relationship amidst his responsibilities.

• Broken Promises: He’s late to a date for the fifth time in a row, and when you confront him, he says, “I’m trying to protect all of us! Can’t you see that?” His words sting, making you wonder if he values you as much as his cause.

• Survivor’s Guilt: Ekko often pushes you away, convinced that anyone close to him is doomed to suffer. “I’ve already lost too many people,” he says. “I can’t lose you too.”

• The Edge of Goodbye: During a dangerous mission, Ekko is caught in an explosion that leaves him gravely injured. When you find him later, barely clinging to life, he whispers, “I should’ve told you how much I love you more often.”

Mel Medarda

• Political Intrigue: Being with Mel means being thrust into a world of manipulation and hidden motives. When one of her rivals targets you to get to her, she blames herself entirely. “I should’ve known this would happen,” she says, her voice trembling with guilt.

• Walls of Gold: Mel’s upbringing has made her emotionally guarded. She loves you, but she struggles to open up, leaving you feeling like you’re constantly chasing a part of her that she won’t let you have.

• Fights About Priorities: You confront her about how often she puts her political ambitions above your relationship. “Do I even matter to you?” you ask, and her silence feels like a knife to the heart.

• A Love Too Dangerous: One night, Mel tells you she can’t be with you anymore, not because she doesn’t love you, but because she fears the danger her world brings to yours.

Silco

• Tainted Love: Silco’s world is one of violence and power, and no matter how much he loves you, it bleeds into your relationship. You hate the blood on his hands, and he hates that he can’t be the man you deserve.

• Constant Conflict: You argue about his obsession with Zaun’s independence. “Zaun comes first,” he says coldly during one fight, and you can’t help but feel like you’ll always come second.

• A Dangerous Game: One day, you’re caught in the crossfire of his enemies. When he finds you injured, barely conscious, he cradles you in his arms, whispering, “I’ll burn this city to the ground if it means keeping you safe.”

• Doubts and Distance: Silco often wonders if he should let you go for your own good, but he can’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he becomes colder, hoping you’ll leave him before he destroys you.

Viktor

• Workaholic Tendencies: Viktor’s obsession with his research often leaves you feeling neglected. “This is bigger than us,” he says, not realizing how much his words hurt you.

• The Fear of Losing You: Viktor’s declining health makes him push you away, convinced you deserve someone who can give you a future. “You shouldn’t waste your time on me,” he says, his voice breaking as he turns away.

• Unspoken Words: He’s terrible at expressing his emotions, and sometimes his silence speaks louder than words. You’re left wondering if he truly loves you or if his work will always be his first priority.

• The Final Goodbye: In his desperation to perfect his research, Viktor overworks himself to the brink of collapse. When you find him unconscious in his lab, you realize how much he’s sacrificed, even at the cost of your relationship.

[whatdidtheydotomygirljinx]

the problem is that it's so hard to really analyze anything about arcane, and draw any conclusions about the story, because of the way it was written and conceived in the first place.

to the people who're like "yeah season 2 was bad, but season 1 was a MASTERPIECE in story writing and PERFECT in every way", that's just not true. the cracks were already there in season 1. there's multiple things, especially overarching ones, that just don't add up, and several ways that the story progresses that seem like odd choices. the thing was that, to me, the rest of it was all so good... the small details, the contained scenes were so well done, so detailed, so touching, that i really believed that maybe those cracks were just hiccups after all, and it's not a big deal, and maybe they'll even make a lot more sense and all get tied up with a nice little bow in season 2 (ha)

to me, at this point, it seems obvious that the way season 1 came into being was that these three idiots (who should never be allowed to write anything ever again) wrote a script, that was so terrible that riot had to bring in help to fix it for them (cause they were that incapable) and then someone got handed their slop and told "save this as much as you can, but keep the main points the same", and save it THEY DID! but the overarching plot is still the original one. which is why there's this dissonance all across it.

season 1 often seems like it's trying to tell two different stories at once. the example that comes easiest to me is jinx's transformation from powder to jinx post time skip. to the people i know irl who watched it, me included, the difference between these two is jarring, to the point that it just doesn't seem realistic that powder would change that much. this is what most people's reaction to her transformation was. like, sure, she changed... but jinx is almost a completely different person. and we can sit here and analyze all we want, and say yeah, but look, in ep2 min37, powder laughs when an enforcer is hurt, so that shows that she is indeed attracted to violence even at this age, but like... first of all, im at this point fully convinced that these details were put in specifically for that, to attenuate the valley that is between powder's character and jinx's, and I also honestly feel embarrassed that i even have to do all of this at all.

other notable examples are whatever is going on between jinx and silco in their relationship. like, yeah, he was actually a good father to her... but actually, there's something weird going on between them... but actually, no... he was better than vander, but actually he was worse than vander and was actually the cause of everything bad in jinx's life..... and on, and on, because the literal story itself never actually makes up its mind on what it wants the relationship between these two characters to be. same as it never makes up its mind on whether powder was a cute, innocent kid who was just manipulated by silco, or if powder was born like that and was just looking for an opportunity to release her inner jinx. same way as it never makes up its mind on whether vi is a devoted sister, who would do anything to get powder back, as she herself says, or if she actually thinks this new enforcer chick she just met is kinda cooler, as her actual actions would indicate. does silco adopt jinx because he sees himself in her, or does he intend to use her as a weapon and then later on grows to actually care about her? there comes a point where "this is a complex story" just becomes an excuse for "we were actually working with three different ideas at once and we never really decided on which one we were gonna do and we kinda just prayed it would all work out somehow"

the one thing that arcane season 2 has on season 1 is that it doesn't suffer from any of these weird identity issues. it's bad and simplistic but it's bad and simplistic in its entirety and it doesn't ever seem interested in being anything else. the story has no continuity or congruence issues, except of course for the ghost of season 1 that haunts it, and especially haunts the writers, who so far have displayed nothing but dismay for the story that actually made this show so acclaimed, and have done all they could to bury it as much as possible in season 2.

now, personally, im a big death of the author truther. even more so in cases like these, where we're dealing with teams of people. power struggles happen in studios, and in writing rooms, and at every level of production. and these three people that have taken credit don't seem like the most emotionally (or intellectually) mature individuals.

so, to solve all these issues, just know that when im discussing or analyzing arcane, im going off the interpretation of the events that serves the story the most, and that leads to the most meaningful narrative and the one that is most worth telling. all of this weird lee and overton slop that snuck in im gonna be completely ignoring.

[lara-cairncross]

Sonic related question - What were your thoughts on the 3rd movie aka WAS I THE ONLY ONE LEFT IN EMOTIONAL SHAMBLES???

Also fanart possibly??? 🙏🙏🙏 I adore your art

can confirm that you are not, in fact, the only one left in emotional shambles. i don't think Shadow has left my mind for longer than ten minutes at a time since i first saw that movie a month ago bro

apologies in advance, this is gonna be a long read:

shadow did nothing wrong and i WILL excuse his every action at a level previously only witnessed in delusional dream apologists. i will defend him on my deathbed idgaf who cares if he killed people!!! he was having a bad day 🥺🥺🥺

no but actually. i have so many things to say about this. like, do we realize that before Gerald instigated the whole revenge plot, Shadow made no move to hurt or attack anyone that wasn't trying to hurt him first??? when he first woke up, he only attacked the GUN soldiers that were actively pointing weapons at him, but left the two guys up in the command station alone. when he was in Tokyo, he was surrounded by people and lights and cars and was probably really disoriented, but didnt attack ANYTHING until GUN showed up with tanks and guns pointed at him-- and even then he tried to tell them to just leave him alone before the fight started. when Team Sonic first showed up, he again literally just told them to LEAVE HIM ALONE even though they came from GUN, and only fought back after Knuckles attacked him first. even after his escape, all he did was try to return to his home!!! HE DIDNT WANT TO HURT ANYONE UNTIL THEY CAME FOR HIM FIRST!!! HES A GOOD BOY IDC WHAT ANYONE TELLS ME !!!!

and even with the revenge plot-- like, of COURSE Shadow was gonna do what Gerald said??? obviously he had a choice in the matter, but Gerald was also his one remaining link to both Maria and his past home, and he probably spent his whole life in the laboratory doing whatever Gerald told him to do. like, that's a fifteen year old who's sister just died, and the one person who's passed as a father figure/authority figure to him for his entire life is telling him to get revenge on the people who killed her. no SHIT he was gonna do what Gerald told him to. ik its speculation on my part but you cant convince me he wasn't conditioned into following orders in that lab like im sorry

EVEN WITH ALMOST KILLING TOM-- like ofc Sonic was rightfully mad, and I do think shadow needed to get sucker-punched to the moon for that one lmao i love Tom too much to see him go. but also, Shadow wasn't really attacking Tom-- he was attacking Walters. Like, the guy who let his sister die and then locked him away for 50 years. i feel like that's a slightly understandable reason to want somebody dead lmao

in short i wasnt lying when i said i would defend everything Shadow does AHSHDHAHDH. the one thing i am NOT happy about is Shadow leaving Stone behind when the crab got swept away, but he probably figured they'd all be dead in 24 hours, so like. efficiency? idk idk Stone will probably forgive him after he adopts him soooooooooooooo

okay enough of that. knuckles is my second favorite character in the movies behind shadow. hes so fucking funny but surprisingly emotionally mature and i love him SO MUCH. that scene where he's on the brink of fighting with sonic over the master emerald but calms himself down to prevent in-fighting??? saving sonic and tails' asses at the end??? thats my BOY my SON he did SO GOOD AUGHHHHHH im a sucker for older siblings acting like shields (Rise Raph, Vi from Arcane, etc) and Knuckles is just the latest addition to my collection of Eldest Daughter Syndromes

adding onto that kinda, i really liked how they used tails and knuckles in this movie :DD i was scared they'd kinda get shoved aside but NO!!! they both had great moments!!!! GOOD STORYTELLING HOLY SHIT I FORGOT HOLLYWOOD COULD DO THAT

ALSO the human characters continue to surprise me with how much i care about them lol, i wasnt as big on it in the second movie but i think thats cuz tom and maddie were separated from sonic most of the time that the focus was on them?? but in this movie, whenever tom and maddie were on screen they were usually WITH the boys or talking to them somehow, so i think i liked it better that way!!! they're both such good parents!!!! AND DONT GET ME STARTED ON STONE AND ROBOTNIK. GOD DAMN IT.

we need more Ozzie content overall. where is the good boy. i barely saw him

the shadow and maria moments were so well done and hit a lot of emotional beats for being such a short chunk of the film??? like they didn't have a ton of screentime together, but what they did have was PACKED. im an older sibling to a little brother and sibling relationships in media hit me so hard bro. i actually saw it with him in theaters the first two times i went and i was tearing up at maria and shadow's scenes together every time :(((( ark siblings you are so important to me !!! I NEED TO DRAW THEM

tbh i would've liked less of the Robotniks' shenanigans and a bit more of Shadow's backstory? i really enjoyed a lot of the Ivo and Gerald scenes, but it was starting to get a little old for me by the end, especially with some of the cutaways from the MAIN CHARACTERS. idk i just would've liked more shadow in the movie,,,, about shadow,,,,,, but also im biased so maybe its actually fine LMAO

That being said. i fucking LOVED ivo in this movie!!! PEAK EGGMAN BEHAVIOR OMG OMG OMG AND HIM SACRIFICING HIMSELF AT THE END??? AND THE FUCKING. DOOMED YAOI. STOBOTNIK YOU ARE SO IMPORTANT TO ME I NEED TO DRAW THEM SO BADLY I CANT WAIT ANYMORE IVE SEEN TOO MANY TIKTOK EDITS THAT REBOOTED MY BRAIN CHEMISTRY

having Live and Learn being a reoccurring motif was a galaxy brain creative decision and i applaud whoever did it

I LOVED the coloring they did for Super Shadow-- like, the rosey gold/platinum color??? PHENOMENALLLLLL IT WORKS SO WELL ON HIM!!!! I don't like Sonic's bright fucking yellow gold coloring as much, but I also dont think the model was as bad as everyone seems to think it was???? i dont know enough about it tho lol, in my eyes they both worked really well for the Super scenes :DDD

the moon scene . need i say more

also can we talk about how Shadow is like. blatantly suicidal. can we talk about that. does anybody want to share some thoughts about that. and maybe scream into a pillow. and have a crying session together. like i know *I* was suicidal at 15 but Shadow doesn't deserve that come on now

Sonic was great as always but -50 aura points for the second-hand embarrassment I felt every time "Konichi-WHAAAAAAAA" came up on screen oh my god i had to hide my face behind my fucking popcorn bag whenever that scene happened i couldnt handle it. my brother keeps saying it at random points during the day now because he knows it pisses me off. and its sonic's fault. ik hes supposed to be a cringe teenager but i do want to dropkick him occasionally /affectionate

tails is baby. tails is baby boy. i liked it when he flushed the crab. baby boy. did nothing wrong.

everytime i see a screenshot of shadow and his stupid wet-cat-kicked-puppy face i want to SCREAM. HOW DID THEY MAKE HIM SO CUTE. LIKE HIS MODEL IS GENUINELY PERFECT I CANT THINK OF ANY IMPROVEMENTS THEY COULD'VE MADE HE LOOKS COOL BUT CUTE BUT SAD BUT ANGRY ALL AT THE SAME TIME!!!!!! HES MY BABY AND I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I HOPE HE SHOWS UP IN THE FOURTH MOVIE I HOPE SOMEBODY (coughs stone coughs) ADOPTS HIM AND GIVES HIM A HOME I JUST WANT HIM TO BE HAPPY BRO

where the fuck did the chaos emeralds go. im kinda hoping shadow fell to earth with them, cuz that could lead to a possible plot with knuckles (or the whole team) having to recover them and running into him again :D

definitely my favorite sonic movie out of the current trilogy!!! it definitely wasn't perfect tho, and i dont think it's the masterpiece everyone makes it out to be-- like, there were definitely some issues I had with the writing at various points, and sometimes the pacing felt off? I do think it should've been like, at least 10-20 minutes longer, especially with the cut scenes that have been released. Stone pulling Ivo out of the wreckage SHOULD have stayed in!!! I dunno why they removed it!!! that being said, i LOVED IT and it's the movie that's gotten me obsessed with the Sonic franchise, so in my mind it's now one of my favs :DDD PLUS I SAW IT WITH MY LITTLE BROTHER AND HE LOVED IT AND WE HAD SO MUCH FUN SO NOW ITS JUST A GIANT HAPPY FEELING IN MY BRAIN WHENEVER I THINK ABOUT IT RAHHHHHH

anyway. Gabriella should kill them both

fanart wise-- dude im cooking up so much i promise. tbh the biggest issue is that i have so many ideas and so many WIPS that im just pingponging between them all and not actually finishing anything LMAO

[theautismcorner]

I am going to preface all of this with - I am not saying Silco is a good person whatsoever.

No one can convince me that Silco didn't love Powder/Jinx. Yeah that motherfucker was misguided as fuck in his attempt to free Zaun (in the ways he was going about it) and showed his love for Jinx in some unconventional ways but that doesn't change how much he cared for her like she was his own daughter. Sevika even tells Vi in s1e5 that Jinx is like Silco's daughter. He braided her hair like her mothers and gave her his side bang. He wouldn't allow her to die, though she was saved from death in a questionable way but that was on Singed more than Silco. If you don't have a somewhat questionable father you probably wont get where I am coming from on this. And for the people who are gonna say "what about what he did to Vander" - what would you do if your best friend (who you are kinda gay with) tried to kill you and leaves your eye and face permanently fucked up? Id be mad too. They also forgave each other in the alternative universe for this situation. And yeah the shimmer production is bad, not gonna excuse that one at all, but again you have to remember that it is another misguided attempt at finding a way to free Zaun from Piltover by basically creating super soldiers. Everyone in this show has fucked up morals, even your favs. The only one who is truly a purely good person with their morals and actions is Ekko. If you want to fully hate on anyone in this whole show chose Singed because he is the root of all evil. The only nice things I can say about him are that he saved Jinx and that he got Viktor to become a scientist.

[kravchikfreak]

i feel like sometimes people would come up with some cool headcanons and interpretations, but then they'll convince themselves that it's literally shown canon with no place for doubt and then they'll act as if everyone else is dumb for not consuming the media the way they do it

(i guess i'm guilty as well, but i'm allowed to cause i'm actually right all the time)

like the second season of arcane got tons of criticism for bad writing, and, naturally, there're people who would defend their favorite show just cause THEY interpreted it in a way that makes sense to the point that when i go to arcane criticism tag to see what problem other people have with the show i also see show's defenders who pissed not everyone sees it as they do

and um i mean it's fine, i get it, we are all the same, just in different camps, whatever. but i have a story. one time i had to do coursework and i barely touched it before the last night before deadline came. and i thought to myself "welp i really need to work on it now, i only have 8 hours left" and when i turned on my laptop and was about to open up the files the power went out in the entire building. and my laptop had a shit battery that worked for like 1,5 minutes without charging. so i thought it was kinda funny and called my mom and told her "see? the only time i decided to do something studying-related and this happens. universe must be trying to send me a sign" and my mom went like "yeah, a sign that you need to try harder! despite all the obstacles that might come to your way"

so, who out of us two doesn't have a sign literacy? is sign literacy dead? or was it just a shit unclear sign and its interpretation depends solely on the person who interprets it and their life experience, beliefs, mentality and so on?

anyway, if you think you feel the character and you can imagine their motives and goals that's cool i guess, but doesn't mean the show actually succeeded to state them in canon. if you can see just some random plot points without any actual on-screen transition between them and just understand what transitions was implied it's also really cool, but for me for example if i wanted to just have some guide points and use my imagination for the rest i'd just scroll through "imagine" tag on tumblr rather then watching an actual show that's supposed to tell the story, not key points of the story

and no, the show doesn't have to tell a viewer everything by words. but it still have to tell you everything, actually, just by all different kinds of storytelling. and leaving everything to viewers imagination isn't a storytelling. like yeah i guess i can come up with some character development that makes you go from pointing a gun at a child (when you already compromised your ability to sharpshoot) to very judgmental "why is peace always the justification for violence?" (right after you actually tell you aren't ready to withdraw your forces and half an hour early we have a cool montage of your forces being pretty violent already) but i feel like it's writers job, not mine

but hey, you do you anyway. who am i to care

in fact i actually feel you. i'll die on the hill of silco being a great dad and caring deeply about jinx. but tho we have in fact canon proof she mean the world to him (actual story actually telling us he chooses her over his ultimate goal) at the same time we don't really have a good explanation on his whole beef with vi. yeah, i still can make my headcanons about his insecurity and fear of losing jinx after she tells her something about something, but it still sounds weak and not really explained in the show. also not a great writing

okay i'm officially lost in my thoughts, gotta wrap it up somehow. let's end on the point that some of interpretations the show leaves you with this season don't make much sense and in other cases it doesn't even give you any material to interpret but straight up leaves you with the responsibility of come up with events and development of the story and characters. and while a viewer might be good at this or even enjoy it, it's still very bad writting actually

peace

[agirlinatophat]

Arcane and morality

The idea that I think is quite generalized in the arcane fandom is of course that of all the characters being morally grey. Personally, I don't agree with this, rather Id describe all of arcanes characters as nuanced. The good are given realistic flaws that serve to make their character less flat. The bad are given explanations for their bad that aren't used as excuses, but rather serve to give their character depth and reason. They also give the morally bad characters good qualities giving their character a more so realistic feel, this doesn't make them good, but it does make them more believable, and all the more intriguing.

Here is how I personally classify the characters of arcane, using several different spectrums.

1; intent

2; actual actions

3; knowledge of actions repercussions

This is a basic outline of mine, and here is several of my counts. This is only for season one mind you.

Silco; Bad

Silco is an interesting character objectively. And of course, his love for Jinx is touching, it is integral to realize the bad that Silco has done. He has knowledge of it and, though his intent might be too free the undercity, he is in no way offering them a better option. His bad actions give him enough of a push to the bad section for me, even if he still seems capable of love through his relationship with jinx.

Vi; Good

Vi is always striving for one thing, and that is too protect, First her sister and then Caitlyn. Yes, she is flawed, she is impulsive, passionate to a falt, and has lashed out physically at jinx before. But when minding that last action and how it counts into Vi's morally, you have too remember the mental state Vi was in during all this. She realized that she had done bad, and maturely removed herself from the situation too cool down. She in no way intended too permanently leave her sister and through her attempts to protect and reconnect with her I'm convinced to have put her in the good category.

Caitlyn; Good

This one might ruffle some feathers, but I objectively think Caitlyn is good in the first season. Her intent is to assist the undercity and she is eager to learn and change her views once Vi shows her the cruelty piltover inflicts upon it. Yes, it is bad she is an enforcer and upholds an oppressive system, but we have too acknowledge that Caitlyn isn't at first aware that the enforcers are bad. Her only example is grayson, who somewhat glamorized the idea too her. from her point of view it is noble, and she thinks shes being of service. For this I am inclined too put her in the good category.

Jinx; morally grey

jinx is a unique case, because under all other metrics she should be considered bad. Intent? she wants too prove herself to silco and or get Vi back in violent ways. Her actions? She has literally committed mass acts of terrorism with a smile on her face. Knowledge? She knows she's harming people yet continues. So, what is it that redeems Jinx, what makes her unique? Well, their is one factor I have yet to discuss, and that is mental state. Jinx is not sane. She experiences bouts of psychosis, and her raising and being near a person who often encourages her behavior well she doesn't even know if her own body is telling her the truth is what endears us too her as morally grey.

This is just my views on just a few characters because I could write a literal essay if I included them all.

[utilitycaster]

Sorry for the rant. I think the fact that they didn't wait until after the Candela finale was a missed opportunity that would have felt less, jarring 1. they could breathe and RP for a session after coming back from the moon reconnaissance mission (this is also considering that whether or not Matt made the party fight Otohan and have a PC death) Matt could have told them to end that particular session at Keyleth's camp and even tell Liam to wait and call Dorian at the end, and then have the party switch. it's also so strange to split the session in two for whatever reason

2. having the party switch after Candela would allow for a good window of time for the Crown keeper to do what they need to in case they can't reach a good point to return to BH in 2 hours, maybe a session and a half at most

3. assuming Dorian, and maybe others with him, come back to the group after whatever this intermission is done, i think it would be hard for them to split the attention between Keyleth encampment and debriefing - mourning FCG - guest players in a way that wont feel like it makes a disservice to another one of these topics (focusing on Guests and FCG's death could make it so the debriefing for the mission they spent 10+ episodes on feels lackluster, and vis versa)

As someone else said, it feels like they are giving us a palate cleanser as i was halfway through a good meal, but also they gave us another meal and after two bites they took it away so i could finish it in two weeks

there is also this limbo feeling of that we are getting late to the airport (freeing Predathos) but also we are taking a stop for sightseeing, and snacks, and bathroom and- it's like they are trying to convince us that "there is an urgency and we have to get there now now, but also nevermind that, lets catch up with these other characters for a bit"

It's just an ODD choice no matter how you look at it

So the urgency doesn't bother me. This was a weird thing in the fandom during the Solstice Split too (god i blocked so many people for constantly shrieking ARE THE OTHERS DEAD in the main tag every week, like no they are fine, they are narratively on pause) but like. Time is frozen for Bells Hells right now. We are following another group. We are not going to get snacks; we are looking in on what other people are doing, concurrently with this campaign. Indeed, that's not a bad idea. In a good campaign, there is this sense that the rest of the world exists and is doing things as you go about your own business - you are heroes of the story but you're not the only people who matter or do things.

It really is like. In some fantasy in which I were personally asked "hey, we want to do this thing where the Crown Keepers show up midway through the episode, and we follow them for that half an episode and then the beginning of the next episode, where would you put this?" I would, to be honest, say "maybe just do it as a standalone episode itself" but if I had to it would just be, again, Not Now. Cutting away while the party is on the moon! Cutting away while they're headed to the moon! Cutting away a week from now! Cutting away just before the Otohan fight! Hell, I even think that while I would have initially been far more annoyed if we started the episode and it was the Crown Keepers the whole way through this week, it would feel more coherent. But like, on a list of 20 places to insert the Crown Keepers scene, "halfway through an episode following a particularly dramatic and tragic character death" would be 21st.

(I also do want to push back against the idea that Sam needs more time and so this is why; you could just. run more episodes without him. Travis voluntarily sat out of almost 5 episodes. It took 2 episodes for Caduceus to show up. Team Wildemount had more episodes than Team Issylra. It is literally fine if he misses a few more episodes.)

[darkwing-katy]

The Spider and the Fly Part VI

Pairing: Eventual Leland x Reader (sorta? You’ll see what I mean)

Word Count: 6,725

Summary: All you want to do is get through your online courses and keep your best friend from making bad choices in men. But there’s this creepy therapist who is absolutely insisting on you making an appointment with him. Who the hell is this Leland Townsend, and why won’t he leave you alone?!

Part six of seven. Takes place sometime around/between/during seasons one and two.

The series is inspired heavily by my favorite poem, “The Spider and the Fly” (1829) by Mary Howitt. This poem is in the public domain.

Tagging: @primosflowergarden; @vi-er

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

—————————————————————————————————

Alas, alas! How very soon this silly little Fly,

Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by

With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,

Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue

You’ve skipped two appointments so far and ignored all phone calls from unrecognizable numbers. You’ve blocked Leland’s number as well. Now, all that’s left to do is wait.

You don’t have to wait too long after the second appointment for him to show up at your place again. He pounds on the door, demanding entry. You ignore him. He can’t see you—you’ve pulled all the curtains down, you’ve blocked the door with a few chairs, and you’ve locked all other potential entry points. 

However, you make it clear that you’re home by blasting your favorite Spotify playlist. It’s all part of the plan, and you have a thrill of excitement coursing through you as you hear him yell through the door. He’s furious with you and that’s only going to make your trap all the more effective, thanks to the information Kristen has shared with you.

A pissed off Leland is a Leland who makes impulsive decisions, decisions that fuck him over in the long run.

Which is why when you return home the next day after your shift, you are not surprised to see him sitting on the couch. He seems the picture of relaxation and calm as he casually sips on one of your margaritas and gives you a friendly wave, but there’s anger simmering through the air from him, and he’s giving you a tight smile as he pierces you with those stupid blue eyes. 

You dreamed of those eyes a few more times in the last two weeks, but you’re not thinking about that right now. You didn’t plan this entire scheme out to lose focus now.

“Hello, (Y/N),” he drawls.

“The fuck are you doing in my house, Leland?” you demand, playing the part of an aggravated person.

“The door was open,” he lies, “and I haven’t seen you in a while, so I thought I’d pop by to check in. Make sure you’re okay.”

You flash him a mocking smile. “Well, now you know that I’m okay, so you can leave.”

He makes no such motion. Instead, he crosses one leg over the other and leans back into the couch. You shut the door behind you and set the bag on the table, letting Leland out of your line of sight for just a moment. He hasn’t moved by the time you turn the corner, though. He’s just waiting there, sipping on his drink, watching you. He pulls the can away with a dramatic sigh. “You’ve missed two appointments.”

“So?” You plop down on the armchair. There’s no way in hell you’re sitting next to him. “I determined that I am no longer in use of your services.”

“That’s not for you to determine,” he replies easily. 

You give him a fake grin. “I’m the patient, so yes, I believe it is.”

“That’s not how this works.”

You tilt your head at him with a false pout. “And how exactly does this work, Leland? You threaten me and force me to come back so you can keep trying to convince me to hit people? Or maybe you want me to scare someone else so bad that they’re traumatized and wind up killing themselves?”

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, but his face remains at ease. “Oh, (Y/N), you think you know everything, don’t you?” His tone is teasing, luring you deeper in. “You don’t know the truth of it.”

He wants you to ask him what the truth is, but he won’t give it to you. He’s using it as bait.

You shrug. “I’ve decided I don’t need to,” you explain as you draw your legs up onto the chair. 

There. The first glimpse of a frown. It’s gone as soon as it appears, but it’s given you hope that this will work. “You…don’t want to know why I approached you?”

You shake your head. “Nope,” you reply, popping the ‘p’. “You’re not gonna tell me anyways, so why bother?”

He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again. He’s thinking, the gears whirring in his head. “What if I told you right now?” he says at last.

You shrug again. “Meh. Don’t care.”

“You should.”

“Nope.”

“You really should,” he insists as he arches both eyebrows, and you laugh.

“Absolutely not. Whatever it is, it can’t be good, and I’ve got a life of my own.” You reach for the remote on the coffee table, but Leland uses his foot to kick it out of your grasp. “Hey!”

“This is important, (Y/N),” he says in a low voice, putting his leg down and leaning forward. “You don’t understand just how important you are to us.”

Who is ‘us’? you want to demand, but it’s more of the same bait. Kristen had warned you that this was exactly the type of thing Leland did—leads you deeper in by promising that mysterious others are involved. It shouldn’t matter to you anyways because whoever was involved with that guy were people you wanted to stay far, far away from.

“Sucks to be you, then,” you say as you hop up from the chair. You’re hungry and who knows how long it’ll take to get Leland gone. You’re not gonna wait around. 

There are footsteps behind you as you pull open the freezer and pull out one of your favorite microwaveable meals. You maintain the illusion of ignoring Leland as you open the box and take out the meal, though you’re acutely aware of every step he takes. You don’t have a weapon on hand; words will be your knives tonight. You shut the microwave door and set it to five minutes before turning around with a huff. “What do you want, Lee?”

Leland blinks at the nickname. “What did you just call me?” he asks, miffed. “Did you just call me ‘Lee’?”

You smirk. It’s time. “What? You don’t like it?” You cross your arms as you lean against the counter. “Would you rather I call you Jake?”

Leland grows very, very still. You watch him carefully, the microwave droning behind you. “Excuse me?” he asks, but there’s a sharp edge to his voice.

Got you, you think with glee. “That’s your name, isn’t it? Jake?”

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking abou—,”

“Oh, don’t deny it. You know, I’ve been trying to figure out who the hell you are. You know everything about me, it seems, and I had nothing on you. But then I found out that you’re not Leland Townsend—you’re Jake Perry, and all of the things I’d been looking for started popping up.” His face twitches. You continue, relishing the turmoil you’re foisting upon him. “You’re from Des Moines, Iowa, you’ve been married twice and divorced twice, and now you’re pretending to be someone else so you can feel all big and powerful.” You snort. “You’re like every Scooby-Doo villain ever. Just a man behind a mask.”

Leland is blinking rapidly, and you can see the confusion mixing with frustration on his face. “That’s not me,” he protests. You laugh at him. His eyes narrow behind the glasses as he seems to understand that he’s not fooling you anymore. “Who told you that?”

You won’t give him an answer. The microwave beeps, so you turn back to it. 

“Who told you that, (Y/N)?! Who told you?”

You peel back the plastic and hiss as a hot burst of condensation scalds your finger. 

You hear him inhale sharply, then start to chuckle, and the sound of it makes the hairs on the back of your neck prickle. “You followed me, didn’t you? You followed me to the church and you met Kristen Bouchard. I bet you ran into David and he was more than happy to connect you two.” The chuckling grows in volume, and you’re having a harder time maintaining your nonchalant act. 

You pull open a drawer and retrieve a fork, which you use to stir your hot food. It needs a minute to cool off before you can eat it.

“Oh, (Y/N). Did you think you were being sneaky? You can’t trust anything that those priests say. They’re too obsessed with hiding their fondness for pretty little boys.”

You’re losing your appetite, but you spear a piece of food onto your fork and blow on it. You have to act normal. 

He wasn’t supposed to react like this. He was supposed to get mad at you. You need to act, fast, before he regains control of the room.

“You know, Jake, I’ve only known David and Kristen for all of a few hours, but I already trust them a thousand times more than I trust you,” you reply as you set the fork down. You face him. “Kristen told me everything. She told me about the bullying, about the sex problems, about how you’re trying to threaten her the same way you’re threatening me.” You plaster a sneer onto your face. “But threats aren’t so scary when you know the person making them is just a loser. What’d she say your old nickname was? Jake the Flake?”

Leland flinches, his lips curving into a snarl. “That’s not my name,” he growls.

“Jake the Flake. Man. Has a nice ring to it. Better than Leland the Loser.” Your sneer widens. “Gee, I wonder what would happen if I released all of that information on social media? Let all of your other patients know just how much of a loser you really are?”

There’s ice in those eyes. “You wouldn’t dare,” he breathes, his hands clenching and unclenching.

“Wouldn’t I?” you ask in a sweet voice. You take an ominous step towards him, pushing away your own discomfort and aiming it at him. “Jake, you’ve literally threatened me,” another step, “tormented me,” another, “broken into my home and you think I wouldn’t dare?” You’ve almost reached him. “After everything you know about me, do you really believe that?” You bring back every ounce of joy you’d felt when you’d taunted your exes and Betty’s exes, using the memories as fuel. You want that glee to shoot from your eyes, from your very pores, because that’s how you’re gonna convince him to leave you the fuck alone.

He meets your eyes with his own, but there’s a tiny, tiny bit of hesitation there. It’s hiding behind his anger, but you see it and you want to pluck it out, bring it to the forefront.

“Leave me alone, Jake,” you spit. “Tell your superiors or whoever that I’m not worth it. I don’t care what you say—call me a bug or bitch or whatever, but make them believe that I’m not what they want, I’m not who they’re looking for.” Any closer and you’d be touching him. You can see your own reflection in his glasses, his blue eyes locked on yours. “Just leave me alone.” You’re still clenching the fork, the cold metal digging into your palms so hard it’s hurting.

He licks his lips, a strangely alluring movement that brings you back to your crazy dreams. You banish them as fast as you can before they can flush your cheeks. “Is that really what you want?” he asks, and there’s something to his tone, some subtle shift that you can’t place. Disappointment?

Is he really giving up? Was that really all the leverage you needed? 

“Yes,” you say in a soft voice. 

He blinks, and whatever was going through his mind is now gone. His face splits in a grin wide enough to rival the Cheshire Cat. “What if I just kill you right here, right now?”

He means it, you realize, and coldness overwhelms your body. You’re frozen in place. You can’t flee, even if you wanted to. Those stupid eyes hold you there, at his mercy. You lick your own lips as you think. “Because then you’ll remember me as the one you couldn’t win over. The fly that tore your web to shreds, even if you got her in the end.” It’s the only thing you can think of—appealing to his pride. “Kill me, and you’ll remember me forever as your failure. Leave me alive, and you have the hope that someday, someday, I find you and decide to join you or whatever.”

He barks a laugh in your face. You take a step back, the spell broken. “You’re a clever one, (Y/N), I gotta give you credit for that!” He’s still laughing as he waggles a finger at you. “Well done! Really!” He claps. The sound makes you jump, which only makes him laugh even louder. “Oh, you know what? Maybe you’re right. You’ll get bored with your life eventually, and when you do…” He lifts his eyebrows in suggestion. “You’ll find me.”

“You keep thinking that, dude,” you reply, but you’re secretly relieved that it hasn’t escalated any further. Leland turns around and makes like he’s going for the door.

“You know, I was hoping you’d punch me or something. Show me that our sessions haven’t been a waste of time,” he calls. You follow him, tossing your fork to the table. He seems like he’s leaving, but you’re wary that he might try something at the last second. “I like it when you hit me.”

“Sorry to disappoint, you weirdo,” you mutter. He chortles. “Even if you do look kinda sexy when you’re bleeding.”

You stop in place, your hand rushing up to clamp over your mouth, but it’s too late. The words have escaped. What the FUCK was that, (Y/N)?!? you scream at yourself.

Leland has paused mid-reach for the doorknob. “What was that?” he asks innocently. He twists his head to peer at you. “I could’ve sworn you just said you think I look sexy when I’m bleeding.”

You shake your head, but your cheeks are heating up, betraying you. You have no fucking clue where the hell that had come from, but you can’t take it back. He heard you, and now he’s smirking like a devil.

Ohhhhh, shit, you think when he takes a step towards you, away from the door. “You’re supposed to be leaving,” you say.

Leland shakes his head, still smirking. “You can’t expect me to leave after you make a statement like that!” There’s a lightness to his gait, a disconcerting twinkle to his eye. “(Y/N), are you attracted to me?”

Images from your dreams bombard you—images of biting, bleeding, twisting and writhing, blue eyes leering at you. “Mmm-mm,” you say, not trusting your tongue. He walks towards you and you step back, suddenly intimidated by the entire situation. You were doing so well! He was almost gone, fucking dammit!

Your back bumps into the open doorway that leads to the kitchen, but then Leland takes another step forward, and you have to twist yourself so that you can keep eyes on him as you step backwards into the kitchen. Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck—

Your butt bumps into the table, and you reach for it, your hands dancing along the smooth, rounded edges. Maybe you can get the table between you and him, and then you can call Kristen. 

He’s not moving fast. He’s taking his time, each footstep deliberate, that stupid grin growing as he realizes that you’re the one retreating now, not him. He’s toying with you, and you heart is pounding so fast that it’s hard to breathe. 

Stay calm. Stay calm, stay calm, fucking dammit, stay calm!

You slide along the circumference of the table, not once moving your eyes away from Leland. You don’t dare—the balance has shifted and who knows what he’s gonna do now?

The kitchen light glints off of his glasses as he takes yet another step closer. “Don’t tell me that you’re scared, now, (Y/N).” He’s dragging out your name in the same way he’s dragging out his footsteps. “What happened to all of that rage, all of that fearlessness from just a minute ago?”

“Oh, it’s still there,” you assure him, your words finally figuring out how to push past the fear that’s tightened your throat. You feel on the table for something, anything. Your fingers graze the strap of your bag, but that’s useless right now. “Don’t mistake fear for a—a tactical retreat.” There! Something cool and metal—your fork. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing. Your fingers strain to reach for it without catching his attention.

Leland arches a dramatic eyebrow at you. “Oh, is that what this is supposed to be?” he asks sarcastically. 

The fork has shifted, juuuuuust enough for you to pull it closer to you. Your hand wraps around it, and just the sensation of the cool metal is reassurance enough. “Yeah,” you say, and you hate how breathy you sound. 

You need him closer if you’re gonna stab him. Much closer. What would Kristen do? You wonder, then scowl internally. No. What would I do? If this were one of Betty’s exes, what would I do? 

The answer comes to you, and you hate it. Hate it for the position it’ll force you into, hate it for the risks it exposes you to, hate it for how tempting it might be if you’re not careful enough. 

You lick your lips, slowly, like you’re both afraid and enjoying what’s happening right now. Your hand is clenching the fork, digging it into your palm. “You were supposed to be leaving.”

A smirk. “So you keep saying. You know what I think, though?”

You’re officially backed up against the wall. You have nowhere left to run. Leland is closer, but not quite where you want him yet. “Do tell,” you reply.

Leland stops, tilts his head at you. “I don’t think you want me to leave anymore.”

Your palm is slick with sweat now, and you’re genuinely not sure how you’re going to get out of this. 

You’re genuinely not sure if you want to get out of this. This is remarkably similar to some of the dreams you’ve had, the ones that have left you gasping for air and nearly feverishly warm upon wakening. Only it had been your bedroom wall, not the kitchen wall, and you hadn’t had been holding onto a fork that was slipping out of your hand. “Why wouldn’t I want you to leave?” you ask, raising your own eyebrows in a poor mirror of Leland. At least your voice has lost that breathiness. 

He hasn’t moved any closer, but his grin is reflecting out of his eyes, bright and sharp. “You know why.”

“Alright, so I think you’re cute. Aside from the, you know,” you wave your free hand haphazardly, “psychopathic behaviors and murder. And manipulation, and breaking and entering, and…”

Leland rolls his eyes. “This is getting nowhere,” he mutters, more to himself, and you brace yourself, certain that he’s about to lunge. 

But something’s wrong—right as he seems like he’s about to step forward, you start to lift the fork from behind your back, and it. Fucking. Slips.

The utensil clatters loudly, obnoxiously, to the floor, prompting a wince from you. Well, shit. You hadn’t realized that your hand was that sweaty, and now it’s cost you.

But at the same time, it’s saved you, because Leland, for some reason that you’re not about to question, finally looks away from you and down at the floor. It’s only for a second, but a second is all that you need. You shove him as hard as you can, causing him to stumble enough that you can try to step around him, but as you push, you let loose a gasp—your hand hurts? A lot, actually, now that you’re thinking about it. It stings, and you wonder why as your eyes go to Leland’s shirt, which has a bright red smear on it.

Is he bleeding?

You should’ve ran away from him when you had the chance, not focused on your pain, because now he’s slammed his hands on either side of the wall next to you. One hand darts down to wrap around your wrist and yank it upwards.

In the light, you see that it’s bleeding. There’s a neat little slice going across your palm in a horizontal line. You stare at it. How the hell had you missed that? It must’ve been the fork—you’d been holding onto it so tightly that you hadn’t even noticed it digging into your skin, ripping into you.

“Ow,” Leland mouths, and then—and then he twists your hand around so that the cut is turned towards him, and the next thing you know, he’s fucking licking it, dragging his tongue all the way across your palm.

And oh, God, does it feel good. You have to press your lips together, hard, to stifle the moan that wants to come out. 

This was not how this evening was supposed to go.

“Let go!” you hiss at him, snatching your hand out of his grasp. 

His eyes are still sharp, but they’re darker now, almost like a stormy ocean. It’s fascinating. “Why?” he asks, a curl to his lips. You try to ignore that you can see some of your blood smudged across his chin, try to ignore that something deep inside of you is demanding that you dare him to do that again, to lift your hand to his mouth and suck.

Do it, he’ll probably be happy to oblige, a dark voice says in your head. I bet he’d bite you if you asked him.

You are never reading any smutty vampire novels ever again.

“You need to go,” you say, and you’re proud of how firm your voice is. It’s not betraying any of your inner thoughts, which are racing and roaring and—

“I thought you liked this kinda thing,” he says, and it comes out a mixture of whiney and smug. 

And because you’re pissed at him—pissed at yourself���you swing at him, fingers curved so that your nails can actually do some damage. This time, you actually manage to hit him, drawing three long, bloody scratches across his cheek. You can’t tell how much of the blood is yours or his, though, because without meaning to, you’ve used your hurt hand, and that was a mistake because now it really fucking hurts, enough to bring tears to your eyes.

Leland flinches at the hit, lifts a hand to his cheek. He dips his fingers in the blood, brings it to his lips, sucks it off with a smirk and an amused lift of his eyebrows. “That’s more like it!”

You kick at his shin, your foot somehow smacking into the stupid fork in the process, sending it spinning across the floor. As Leland tries to sidestep you, you manage to duck around him and lunge to the floor, retrieving the bloodied utensil and jabbing it in his direction.

“A fork? Really? That’s the best you can do?” Leland sighs. “I’m almost disappointed.”

“You need to go,” you reiterate, but he just grins at you. 

“Awww, you don’t mean that,” he taunts. “What happened to thinking I’m sexy?”

“Get. Out,” you repeat through gritted teeth. 

Leland’s eyes dart to the fork. “You gonna stab me with that, (Y/N)? Make me bleed?” He shrugs. “I guess it’s only fair.”

It’s either that or hate sex, the dark voice purrs. And hate sex would be waaaaaay more fun, I bet. Who cares if he struggled getting it up with his ex-wife? He doesn’t seem to be having a problem with it now.

You can’t stop your eyes from flicking to the crotch of his pants, which only confirms what the dark voice is saying. What exactly is it about this man that calls to you so much? It’s gotta be the forbidden aspect of it that makes him so alluring—you know he’s an atrocious guy, that he’s a literal personification of evil (Kristen has told you a lot about his deeds), but…that’s not stopping you from being drawn in. Even after everything he’s said to you, after him telling you the truth about Samantha, after his outright threats towards Betty, you’re captivated. He’s gotten under your skin and fucking him might be the only way you can get him out.

There’s space between the two of you now, but it doesn’t feel that way. His eyes are roving over your body the same way yours are roving over his, and it’s clear that you’re both enjoying it, even though clothes are still on. This little stand-off is charged with sexual tension, and you’re the one with the knife (fork?) to cut it. 

You understand quite suddenly that he’s not going to do anything unless you initiate it. He may be twisted, he may be malignant, but he’s not going to sexually assault you. He’s leaving it up to you to decide. You have to make the choice here.

Do it, do it, dooooo iiiiiiiitttttt, the voice whispers in your ears.

Your hand fucking hurts.

Dooooooo iiiiiiiittttttt.

You surge forward, and the force of your movement sends Leland backwards into a chair that is, fortunately for him, turned just enough that he can fall onto it. You’re hyper-aware of the fork in your hand—the blood on it has gotten sticky already and the texture of it is horribly gross—apparently you’re only a fan of fresh blood, which is a weird distinction to make but it doesn’t really matter anymore because you’re pressing your lips against Leland’s, your free hand reaching up to the back of his head to pull him closer. He kisses you back with rough vigor, and as your body straddles him, you can feel just how enthusiastic he is. 

Am I really doing this? you have time to ask yourself before you shove your tongue into his mouth. He responds just as forcefully, his hands snaking around your waist. He doesn’t seem bothered by the fork at all; if anything, it’s just making it more fun for him. 

Your cheeks are burning in embarrassment, but the rest of you is filled with pleasant heat. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you notice that his hair is soft. There’s a strange sort of desperation urging you further, making you grind against him, and though you’d expect otherwise, he seem’s pretty content to let you take the lead on this. There’s probably something more going on here, some strange metaphor that you’re too distracted to work out. Right now, you want nothing more than to peel everything off—your clothes, his clothes, everything, and as you reach to tug off his suit jacket, you hear a ringing.

The noise is sudden and jarring, and you jerk back away from Leland, who makes a groan of protest. Your eyes scan the kitchen for the source of the sound and land on your phone, the screen lit up in your bag pocket. “Ignore it,” Leland suggests, and you wait for the screen to darken before you turn back to him. “Well, don’t stop now!”

What the hell are you doing, (Y/N)? you scream at yourself, but his words are a yank on this strange chain between the two of you, and you lean forward to kiss him again, your hand resuming its quest to pull of his jacket as he tugs you closer, closer, until there’s no space between you except that of your clothes, and his hands are running up and down your back, cupping your ass, eagerly exploring—

Your phone goes off again, snapping you out of it. This time, Leland growls at you when you pull away. “Ignore it,” he commands, but no one ever calls you this time of night unless it’s Betty with an emergency.

The thought of Betty calling you with a crisis and you ignoring her because you’re fucking your psychotic therapist brings heat to your face, and you leap off of Leland in your haste to get as far away as possible from him so you don’t jump him again. His hands try to hold you in place, but you’re fast enough to shake them off before he can pull you back to his face. “Fuck,” you hear him hiss, but it’s too late. You’ve broken free and have snatched up your phone.

It’s not Betty calling; it’s Kristen. “Hello?” you say as you answer it, keeping Leland in your peripheral the whole time. You wouldn’t put it past him to try and catch you unawares.

“(Y/N)! How are you?” Kristen asks. She sounds cheerful.

“Oh, uhm. Fine,” you reply. Your voice sounds a bit shaken from adrenaline, and you hope she doesn’t notice it.

“Are you sure? You sound a little off.”

So much for that, then. “I’m fine,” you insist, your eyes darting to Leland, who’s watching with an aggravated expression on his face. He purses his lips as you make eye contact. There’s still blood, already browning, smeared across his cheeks. You lick your lips and wonder what it would taste like. “Uhm, uh, is there a reason you’re calling so late?”

“It’s not that late, is it?”

You look to the stovetop clock. It’s not even 8 yet. You frown. The summer sun probably hasn’t even set at this point. Your sense of time must be really screwed up from everything going on. “Riiiight. Sorry. Pulled a few all-nighters in a row and now my sense of time is all wibbly-wobbly,” you lie. It’s dumb but it’s the only thing you can think of right now.

Well, that and how badly you want to toss the phone away so you can resume…whatever the hell that was. The heat of it pulses through you, calling you back to Leland. You take a step towards him without meaning to, and he gives you a smug look. He knows what you’re thinking. You don’t know how, but he does, the bastard. In an attempt to stave off whatever weird spell you feel like you’re under, you clench your fork, and the sharp pain it sends through your arm snaps you out of it.

Kristen chuckles on the other end, buying your lie. “I was calling because I was doing some digging. Your friend—Samantha, right?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Leland’s eyes track you as you start to pace around the kitchen, never once turning your back to him. He hasn’t really moved from the chair, and that smug look is still plastered onto his face. Is he hopeful that you’ll continue where you left off the moment you hang up?

“You said that Leland told you she committed suicide.”

Your eyes are glued to him. “Yep, that’s what I was told.”

He sits up, almost like he knows you’re talking about him. One eyebrow raises in an unspoken question. You shake your head at him and point the fork in his direction. He raises his hands in supplication.

“I reached out to some friends in Florida, and they directed me to a center in Tallahassee where your friend used to stay. Turns out, she was released a month ago and moved to Jacksonville. She still has virtual check-ups every week, but she’s not dead, (Y/N). Leland lied to you.”

He straightens even more as you narrow your eyes at him. If they were daggers, he’d be long since dead. “He did,” you repeat numbly. It’s not a question, though Kristen seems to interpret it as one.

“Yes, he did. He lied about her to get under your skin, to get you to open up to him even more. This is what he does, (Y/N).” Kristen pauses. “Have you seen him since the last time we spoke?”

You shake your head as you lie again. “No.”

“Good. You’ll call if you see him?”

“Yes,” you lie for the third time. Your mind is working fast, whirring as you figure out what to do with this new piece of information.

There must be something in your tone, because Kristen doesn’t hang up right away. You hear her breathing on the other end. “(Y/N), are you sure you’re okay?” she asks in a hushed voice. “I know this is a lot, but I want you to know that I’m here to help if you need it. Leland is just a man. A twisted, terrible, manipulative man.”

Yeah, and I was just about to rip his clothes off a few minutes ago, you think morosely. So what does that make me?

“He wants to upset you for a reason. It’s what he does.”

“I’m fine,” you tell her. “Can—can I call you back later? I need…I need to process this.”

You hear a rustling movement on her end. She’s probably nodding. “Yeah,” she says. “Call me anytime.”

“Thanks, Kristen,” you say, and at the mention of her name, Leland rises from the chair at last. His gaze has sharpened, and though he seems to be acting aloof, uncaring, you can tell from the way his shoulders tense that he’s wary of whatever it is that she’s told you.

As he should be, you think with venom.

You hang up and slide the phone into your back pocket. The fork is still in your hand, and you tighten your grip on the handle, ignoring the pain. You can deal with that later. This is much more important. 

“What was that about?” Leland asks, taking a step towards you.

You don’t move. You will hold your ground. He will not intimidate you, not anymore. 

“What did she tell you, (Y/N)?” he demands with another step.

You glare at him, willing ice into your veins. Ice strong enough to withstand him, strong enough to pierce him, to freeze him in place. “She told me something veeeeery interesting, Lee,” you drawl. He pauses at the nickname. He doesn’t seem afraid of you, but he is hesitant. You’ll take it. “Kristen told me that she reached out to some friends of hers. Friends who told her that Samantha—you know, the old friend that killed herself—is alive and well in Jacksonville. How crazy is that?” You giggle, a high-pitched deranged sound. “So either you lied to me or the therapists there are meeting with a ghost online every week.” 

Leland stares at you, tilts his head at you. “Alright, so I lied,” he admits with a tense smile. “But you were pleased to hear that she was dead, even if it wasn’t true.”

He’s not entirely wrong. You’re not as relieved that she’s still alive as you probably ought to be, but you are holding onto the detail that Leland used this lie to manipulate you into violence, into admitting your remorselessness at the things you’ve done. He’s encouraged you to continue acting as you have in the past, if not more so. And then you understand: he wanted you to think you scared someone into suicide because he wants you to do it again. He wants to trick you, seduce you, persuade you to do that to someone else—or many someones.

“Get out of my house,” you say in a surprisingly calm voice.

“Let’s talk about this,” he says as he takes a large step forward, holding his arms out like he’s reaching for you. “Let’s talk about how you feel.”

“Get. Out.” Your voice has increased in volume but decreased in pitch.

“You don’t feel relieved, do you? You’re disappointed. You wanted to scare someone so bad that they killed themselves. You wanted that nice little tick on your resume.” He makes a ‘ticking’ sound and motion as he says that.

He’s right.

“Get out!”

He stops moving, but that malicious light is back in his eyes. “Do you really think I’m afraid of you?” he asks with a sneer. “My friends are more powerful than you could even know.”

You channel all of your rage, all of your love of scaring people. Everything that you can use to project yourself in a way that will scare him. “Leland,” you say, taking a step towards him. His eyes dart to the fork and back to your face. “Ohhh, Leland. Get out of my house right now or I will destroy you. I know what scares you now, remember?” You give him a dark grin. “I will find everything I can from your high school band days. If anyone has videos, I’ll find them. If anyone has photos, I will find them. I’ll post them everywhere I can. I’ll interview your classmates, your principal, your teachers. I’ll talk to your ex-wives. I’ll share who you really are with the whole fucking world, Jake Perry, and no one will come to you ever again for help because they’ll see that you, asshole, are a joke.” 

He’s stilled, your words sinking into him. There’s a snarl forming on his lips.

You will not let yourself think about the fact that you were kissing those lips less than five minutes ago. Not think about how a part of you is raring to jump back into action.

“Leave me alone. Leave Betty alone. Don’t talk to anyone who knows us, and I will leave you alone. But the minute you come near us again, I’ll tear you apart. One piece at a time.”

He stands there, glowering. You sense that he would kill you on the spot if he could, but you’re the one who’s armed, and Kristen would know what really happened to you no matter what he did to your body. 

And he would know that he killed you because he was afraid of you. That’s the real reason he won’t do it.

You may not have beaten him, but you have earned a stalemate.

“Fine,” he says through clenched teeth. “I’ll leave you and your…friends alone.” He turns his back to you. You follow him as he goes to the door. “But we’ll meet again, (Y/N). You’re too good at what you do.” He reaches for the doorknob and glances back at you. “And the next time we meet, you’ll find out what kind of person you really are.”

“I know who I am,” you hiss. The fork is still in your hands, ready to stab if he makes any sudden movements.

He snorts. “Yeah. You’re the kind of woman who loves to scare people and wants to hate-fuck your therapist.” He pulls open the door, though he’s still looking at you. “Let me know if you ever change your mind. I’d enjoy it as much as you would.” He winks.

“Stay out of my life,” you snarl. The second he’s out the door, you slam it shut behind him and lock it. Then you grab the chair and shove it under the knob. After that, you go back into the kitchen and stand there, looking at everything. 

Your hands are shaking. Hell, your whole body is shaking. Is it fear? Is it adrenaline? Is it something else?

The fork clatters to the floor right before your knees slam into it. You’re panting, and it isn’t until something wet splashes onto your hands that you realize you’re crying. The moment you realize that, you start to sob. You wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to calm yourself, but it doesn’t work. “Fuck,” you say though your tears. “Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckFUUUUUCK!”

You cry on the floor for a long, long time.

When you’re done crying, you sit on the floor for even longer.

And then you get up. You wash your face and your hand with warm water. You get yourself cold water to drink. You find some Neosporin and bandaids. You clean up the residual blood that’s scattered around the table. When that’s all done, you go to bed and lay there, staring at the ceiling.

You haven’t won, no. But you will never see Leland again. 

You’ve made sure of that.

And that is good enough.

Thinking only of her crested head—poor foolish thing! At last

Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast

He dragged her up his winding stair into his dismal den

Within his little parlor—but she ne’er came out again!

[fishys-still-writing-smut]

PJ’s Kaede AND Miu… with Kokichi walking in on the fat assed gyaru’s 🤭

Warning: lewd content below

“My my my, what do we have here?”

“W-what the hell are you doing twerp?!?” Miu was shocked at Kokichi's sudden entrance. Both her and Kaede were completely bottomless, the pianist even bent over at the time he barged in.

“I was bored, so I decided to go lock picking. And aren't I lucky. You both need my help after all.” He used both of his hands to slap both blonde’s asses before gripping them with a surprising amount of force. “How about I help you both put those pajamas on?”

—------

“This isn't helping, this is anal sex!”

“Whoops, my bad! Silly me.” Kokichi said with an evil smirk as he continued to ram Miu's asshole with his cock. The inventor was bent over with her face against her mattress as she lifted her ass up in the air for Kokichi's personal use. Meanwhile, Kaede layed down under the pair, using her mouth to service Kokichi's nuts. She sucked in his ball sack while massaging her breasts, patiently waiting her turn.

“Fuck. You're so fucking big. Fuck me harder!” Miu begged as she received a pounding like never before. She screamed into the bed while gripping the sheets tight.

“Huh? Close already slut? I barely even started.” While teasing her Kokichi began rubbing her pussy. He increased his pace and fucked her faster while at the same time using his skilled fingers to massage Miu's pussy. It all overwhelmed the poor girl until-

“Fuuuuuuuuck!” Miu screamed as she came all over Kokichi's fingers. Kokichi slowly pulled out, allowing the bitch to slump down on the bed as she panted heavily.

“That just leaves you.” Kokichi licked his lips as he turned to his left. Kaede, who had previously been pleasuring him, was on all fours, twerking her fat ass like a prooer porn star. She gave herself a nice hard spank before winking, openly inviting herself to be dominated.

—---------

“Oh my god you're amazing!” Kaede cried as she rode Kokichi's cock. She didn't bother with the illusion that he would help her put on clothes, so she simply threw them on to a sleeping Miu’s body. Now she could ride him with reckless abandon, while also giving him a pretty nice view of her ass.

“Wow, even thought I'm fucking your pussy your still waaaaay tighter than the cum dumpster sleeping over there.” Kokichi snickered as he laid back and watched as the bimbo broke herself on his thick dick.

“R-really? T-thank you. Please, praise me more.” Kaede bashfully requested, feeling a new sick fetish unlock within her.

“What's the magic word?”

“F-faster!”

“Good girl.” Kokichi smirked as Kaede increased her pace for him, panting like a dog. “Let's see, you got the thickest ass on campus. And also the biggest boobs that look ever larger in that slutty vest of yours. Plus, I now know for sure that your pussy is waaay better than that other slut. No wonder every guy wants to fuck you!”

“E-every guy?”

“Oh yeah. If you're really a slut for praise just ask. I bet you could even convince them to share if it means a chance to use your sexy body. Although…” Kokichi suddenly began rapidly thrusting inside of Kaede. “I'm claiming you first!”

“Yes! Fuck me! I'm in love with your big dick!”

“You're going to love what comes out of it more~.”

“Yes. Oh my god. Fuck I'm so close. Please cum in me. Cuminmecuminmecuminmecuminme!”

Splurt!

Kaede's constant begging was rewarded as she felt Kokichi's warm cum shoot inside of her. She fell off his dick and laid on her back, still high off the experience. She was still orgasming from the sensation of having his load inside of her. Kokichi took a good look at the gyarus before laughing maniacally. He had the best idea.

—--------

“I-I can't believe we're doing this.” Miu blushed as the three walked to class together. Kokichi's genius idea was for them to walk to school together wearing matching pajamas. And just pajamas. Miu blushed at people staring at her more pronounced rack, her hard nipples visible through the cheap fabric.

“I-I don't completely hate it.” Kaede muttered. She'd already received 9 cat calls, 6 whistles, 5 “damn”’s, 2 surprise spanks and chest gropes, and someone even pantsed her! As a newly realized attention whore, she was loving Kokichi's idea way more than she was willing to admit.

“C'mon, it's not that bad.” Kokichi smirked. The main reason the girls agreed was because Kokichi also went without underwear today, his meaty cock bulge clearly visible and only guarded by a single thing button. “Besides, I can even show off the new symbols of friendship we got.” With one fell swoop, Kokichi pulled down both of their pants, to reveal their new ass tattoos. One word on each cheek that read:

“Kokichi's property.”

Despite Kokichi's reputation, you had to give it to him here; he definitely wasn't lying about that!

[dangermousie]

would you happen to have thoughts about the acting/casting and/or depth of characterization in rise of ning? i'm watching it and wanna be more into it but fsr most of the cast (besides wanyi and the stepmom) are not very...charismatic? to me 😧 would love a convincing mousie blog on the topic if you have one up your sleeve!

I am a terrible person for this kind of question because (a) I tend to watch most shows for the mains and supportings are less important to me in general and (b) I am not really a person who wants to convince others to like what I like because all my liking means is I enjoy it; others may or may not - I am no arbiter.

This said, while the OTP are the shining stars of the show for me, I do find the rest of the characters interesting (even if a lot of them are not likable - I dare anyone to find Dad likable.) I think it's because they all feel like real people to me - in their good and their petty. Even minor characters like First Aunt - I knooow women like this. Or the Dad - too many men are like that. Or take oldest daughter of First Aunt - so many other narratives would make her evil or besotted stupidly to the end but she is not - she ends up doing the sane thing and moving on from her crush and repaying FL's favor; but they don't become BFFs, they basically a nicely tolerant, which is a realistic thing in families.

And it allows characters both greyness and consistency. Take Lady Qiao. Awful person but loving mother and you really understand how Dad and societal structures pushed her into what she is. Or, even better, grandma - she is very much a grande dame of society, I am sure she was a good wife, but it's clear she is part of all the generational trauma and dad got his tendency to favoritism from her. And I love that she's consistently so - no magic change of heart vis-a-vis ML. It's realistic.

As to non-Luos, the only ones we really see are Ci Sha's sinister sexy marquis and his nephew. I am interested in the former not just for the hotness (tho mmmm) but because I want to know what his deal is, and nephew is interesting enough for a minor character.

(I am leaving actors out of this write up because I think they all do fine jobs, but mainly because unless acting is truly bad, I care about the characters only.)

This said - this is (a) very much a costume take on slice of life or, perhaps better, a cdrama take on something like a Gaskell novel - I love that small but wonderful subgenre but depending on one's taste, it just might not be one's bag (no matter how well a proper harem drama is made, for example, I just don't like them) and (b) this is all my very subjective take - I am a big fan of "clicking." I believe things either click for us or don't, somewhere in the lizard brain; we can then write a long explanation as to why but it really is an attempt to explain after the fact. And this just might be a situation where those characters/narratives just don't click for you. I mean, plenty of people enjoyed Are You the One this year and I felt like it poisoned my puppy - not even 100 essays could ever make me like it because it's so subjective. I could very well go "I get why X likes it" but it would, alas, not make me like it any more than I do now. I am one of probably three people who dislike the main premise of Nirvana in Fire (could write essays on it!) and the fact that everyone else loves it has not changed my mind.

I can perhaps explain (badly) why I think the click happened for me here, but I have no eloquence to make that click happen for anyone else (if I did, mwhahahahahaha I would take over the world and adapt every good danmei out there :P)

[blue-mint-winter]

Reading Fire and Blood: Rhaenyra Overthrown

Rhaenyra is reaping the consequences of taking bad advice from Celtigar and Mysaria. She lost Velaryons and the city is turned against her. The idea to tax people for children born out of wedlock was particularly deranged as it basically promotes infanticide on wide scale. And Celtigar knows that. Is he a demon? His previous advice at the start of the war was to burn King's Landing to the ground.

Helaena's suicide is a matter of much speculation. GRRM in his recent deleted blog post said that she killed herself because Mysaria revealed the truth about Maelor's death to her. I'm not sure if he wanted that version of the story to be the one they use in the show or it was his overall true, book version. I'm going to argue with that version though, because it doesn't make much sense to me. For all Helaena knows, one of her children, Jaehaera is still alive and safe. Same with all her brothers. Why would she kill herself after hearing only about Maelor's death? It would make more sense if she did it after losing all her children. Not to mention, what is even Mysaria's motive for sharing the news? Why would she want Helaena to kill herself, they have no personal history and Helaena's death harms Rhaenyra's cause. Mysaria's death after Rhaenyra leaves the city shows that Mysaria wasn't in league with Larys Strong who was behind the anti-Rhaenyra rumours that caused the riots. So, Mysaria didn't get anything out of driving Helaena to suicide.

Additionally, what suicidal person chooses to throw themselves on spikes? It's a painful and gruesome death. There are other, more common and less painful ways to kill yourself. Even if Helaena as a prisoner didn't have any sharp objects, so she couldn't slit her wrists, she could still probably make a rope from bedsheets and hang herself. Compare that with lady Caswell's suicide last chapter - as she hanged herself, she asked Ormund Hightower to spare her children - and it worked. Last reason against Helaena's suicide is the lack of suicide note.

The other theories - she killed herself because she was pregnant with a bastard or because she saw the hanging of Corlys' attempted rescuers (one could have been her lover?) - are rather farfetched. I don't think pregnancy would cause it, unless she was scared of Celtigar's new tax on bastards (lol). Helaena having a lover just has no basis in the text and there's no proof of any connection between her and the two hanged men.

The murder theory is the most probable in my opinion. Someone pushed Helaena out of that window, maybe Mysaria, maybe someone else. We know it wasn't Luthor Largent who had an alibi. Realistically, in the bad situation Rhaenyra got herself by losing Velaryons and all her dragonseeds, the best motive for Helaena's murder is freeing Dreamfyre to be claimed by a new dragonrider. The Blacks needed more dragons to defend the city besides Syrax and small Tyraxes. Dreamfyre is the second oldest dragon and she's large, she could fight Vermithor or Silverwing. Finding a new dragonrider would be problematic because of Rhaenyra's distrust of dragonseeds, however if it was Mysaria's plan all along, she might have been able to convince the queen to let her claim Dreamfyre. Mysaria had Rhaenyra's trust as her master of whisperers, additionally she might have learned more about claiming a dragon from Daemon and/or Nettles. Unfortunately for Mysaria, if this was her plan, it didn't work because of the riots and the killing of all dragons in the King's Landing.

The riots and the storming of Dragonpit felt apocalyptic. It was chaos, anarchy, pandemonium, madness. Rhaenyra watching it all from the roof, losing her son, seeing her reign crash and burn into ashes before her eyes. Great stuff.

Shepherd as the leader of religious fanatics is similar to High Sparrow. Both of them oppose the queen (Cersei/Rhaenyra). It seems that this part of the Dance gives clues to what might happen to Cersei when Aegon VI will march on King's Landing. I see a possible parallel between Helaena and Margaery - both are queens beloved by smallfolk. If Tommen dies, it could be similar to Joffrey Velaryon. Then the situation with 3 kings in the city: Trystane, Gaemon and Shepherd could be more foreshadowing. I wonder if Gendry as the former king's bastard, or anyone else, will show up as a puppet ruler. Perhaps Littlefinger has hidden a child from Cersei or could simply proclaim one to be Robert's.

I have a theory about Shepherd's identity. He's armless and described: "Mushroom names him “the Dead Shepherd,” for he claims the man was as pale and foul as a corpse fresh-risen from its grave". I think Shepherd isn't some random Poor Fellow, but Silver Denys. Silver Denys was a dragonseed that tried to claim Sheepstealer, but the dragon bit off his arm and killed him and his sons. If Denys survived or came back from the grave, then he has all the reason to want revenge on Rhaenyra and all dragons. It just explains Shepherd's hatred and fanaticism.

Someone hacking off Joffrey's foot is only more proof that Larys is behind the riots, like a killer's "business card". It's very possible that Joffrey survived the fall but was killed by Larys' men. Syrax was flying low because stones, arrows and spears could reach her and madden her. Joffrey didn't fall directly on the street, he fell on a steep-pitched roof and slid down on tiles. How could his own sword pierce his belly during the fall? Wasn't it in the scabbard? Joffrey needed both hands to hold on to Syrax, so he probably wasn't holding a naked sword in one hand when he fell. It's more probable that he was stunned, maybe broke some bones during the fall and whoever found him first took his sword and pierced him with it.

Hugh Hammer following a vague prophecy and thinking it's about him (it's not) - he truly has Targaryen blood (lol).

If Addam went to the Isle of Faces, then he could have met Daemon who was waiting in Harrenhal for Aemond. The timeline is fuzzy, but it makes sense for Addam to try appealing to Daemon as Rhaenyra's consort and the only one capable of convincing her that Addam is still loyal. After Addam's escape Rhaenyra issued the orders to kill Nettles. So there's enough time for a meeting between Daemon and Addam before 13 days pass and Daemon fights Aemond. I think it would also make sense for Daemon as the main war strategist on Black side to give Addam a battle plan to win at Tumbleton and instruct him about gathering the army of riverlords.

I hope Daeron wasn't killed by Black Trombo because that's just too lame and embarrassing. An unknown soldier or dying in fire is better than Black Trombo.

Hobert Hightower used a gentle poison in the wine to kill Ulf the White, causing him to die in his sleep. This could be the answer to some murder mysteries in this book, like High Septon's death during Maegor's reign. Even Viserys' death is suspect again, as he died at a very convenient timing for the Greens, before Rhaenyra's sons and their dragons were fully grown.

Rhaenyra's decision to return to Dragonstone when she had other, safer options with her allies like the Vale or White Harbour, proves that she wasn't thinking straight. Even if she hatched a dragon, it would be too small to help her in the war. Claiming Grey Ghost or Cannibal had extremely low chances of success. Rhaena literally had 3 dragon eggs in the Vale with her! In addition, the garrison at Dragonstone was made of dregs and men of questionable loyalty. So going to Dragonstone was all around pointless and the worst option Rhaenyra could have picked.

Speaking of Dragonstone garrison, the description resembles Night's Watch. Even Alfred Broome sounds like Alliser Thorne.

I kind of like Aegon and Sunfyre - they're both survivors.

Baela - brave, but foolish. If she ran away and warned Black allies about Aegon, this could have ended very differently. Having a dragon really makes people overconfident.

Sunfyre became a true cannibal by eating Moondancer and then Rhaenyra.

It is rather poetic that Rhaenyra hurting and exploiting people in various ways during her rise ultimately leads to her downfall. The smallfolk in King's Landing suffered her taxes and executions, Helaena's and her sons' deaths destroyed Rhaenyra's reputation, Corlys was unjustly imprisoned, people on Dragonstone lost relatives to the Sowing, Shepherd/Silver Denys was taking revenge for his sons, Hugh and Ulf weren't suitably rewarded, Alfred Broome was passed over and didn't get a deserved promotion. Rhaenyra didn't receive help at Rosby because she didn't give the inheritance to the older sister but to her baby younger brother. Others in Crownlands weren't eager to help her because they lost relatives that were loyal to Rhaenyra or their castles became too weakened after Cole sacking them earlier.

Rhaenyra dying at the age of 33 just punctuates the tragedy. She was still so young.

All in all, this was a terrific chapter.

[seetangus]

Flowers - Azula x reader - Part V

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part VI, Part VII, [main masterlist]

Azula x reader, requested by 🌹-anon, warnings: arranged marriage, feelings of great sadness

1.007 words, please alarm me about any mistakes if you find any. Please have fun :)

You arrived home.

It did not feel like home, though. The last years of your life you had spent in the royal palace and on missions in the name of the fire nation, over time losing almost all bounds to your birthplace. You hadn't even realised how distant you had grown from this place until you arrived. Still, the place did not seem completely foreign - many memories of your childhood were connected to it, and somehow everything felt familiar.

Maybe this place would not seem so distant if there was a different reason for your arrival; maybe it would truly feel like home if you hadn't come here just to be married off to a stranger and taken away again in a matter of days. Suddenly, the belief that taking this path instead of staying in the palace didn't seem very convincing anymore. Would it have been wise to oppose the marriage?

That thought had crossed your mind several times while you were traveling here, and just like all the other times you pushed it away. You pushed it so far that it would, at least you hoped so, not occur again until the marriage had been accomplished. You had to keep your family's honor intact. Also, you tried to force yourself to believe that your suitor maybe wasn't so bad - maybe they were a nice and likable person, not all people who wanted to marry someone were bad, were they? Surely the wish to marry you without ever having met you originated from them having heard good things about you and not because you had held a high ranking position in the royal palace up until now, being on missions with the princess and her elites, having gained quite an impressive reputation in the process, right?

That did not sound very convincing. But now was not the time to waste any more thoughts on that matter, as the moment of meeting your future spouse came closer and closer. You just hoped that this marriage would show Azula that rejecting you in such a shameful manner had been a mistake, although you had to admit that the probability of Azula even being able to feel something like regret was pretty low.

But that had been enough thinking, your mind was now entirely focused on something else - you heard footsteps coming closer, and they were not of the shoes of any servant or the such coming to gather your luggage, rather it was the unmistakable sound of leather boots - in your time in the palace you had heard this exact sound a thousand times, as they were typically worn by both soldiers and firebenders - you wore them too. Could it be your fiance? They were a firebender too, weren't they?

Gathering all the courage you could, you stood straight and mustered the best smile you were able to form under these circumstances - many feelings you had tried to suppress flooded your head; every emotion from excitement to fear seemed to rush through your thoughts. The footsteps came closer. Any moment, they would enter this room. You swallowed.

< two days later >

It had been horrible. All of it. Your future spouse and the treatment they gave you had transformed the last two days into a hell of sorrow and the thought of how dreadful your married life would be had never left your mind, scratching on your sanity like a demon housing in your soul.

Most of the time of the dinners you shared with your parents and your fiance you had spent crying, withdrawn to your chamber so that no one could see you. Every minute you could spend alone you gladly did, most often seeking refuge under a tree you had spent many hours laying under in your childhood, being thankful for a place far away from that cruel person your parents had chosen for you.

Just when your tears had dried once again and you stood up from your cowering position below the tree, which you had shed more tears under in the last two days than in your entire childhood, your fiance appeared, marching towards you. Was this your life now? Was that person who dared calling you things like "my love" and "dear", the phrases of affection sounding dead and blasphemous in their mouth, sent only to bring sadness and despair over your life?

Would they ever change for the better? Would this ever end? You laughed at your naive optimism. If your suffering was supposed to end, t h e y had to end.

After moments of silence only interrupted by the continuous sound of their unworthy feet coming closer to your tree, they were here. Again. When would they not be there anymore, once you were married? You should really get used to it. Pretending that this would not be your life from now on was pointless and would only make it harder to accept in the future.

They grinned at you and held their hand towards you. You dared not to look at their face, fearing that it might appear in your dreams. Tragically however, you could not refuse to take their hand, yours hesitantly making its way over to theirs, your entire soul screaming and screeching when your skin touched theirs. Their hand groped greedily around yours, its hold felt more like metal binds than like human touch.

Walking towards 'home' with them, you suddenly perceived the sound of a Komodo Rhino, which was very uncommon for this lonely town. Even more surprised you were when the beast you just heard jumped in front of you on the road, preventing you from continuing your walk.

The animal was saddled, ridden by someone you had hoped not to see anytime soon as you thought that she was to blame for all the misery of your marriage, as it would never have come this far if she had accepted you in the first place.

Right before you stood Azula, glancing furiously at the sight of you and your future spouse holding hands.

< • ◇ • >

I'm so sorry, originally I planned to do the whole finale in one go but somehow I got so invested in describing how awful the suitor person is, it just kept going 😭

Anyways I hope you enjoyed the chapter, even though it is a bot different from what 🌹you had written in your request.

[plutosmainhoe]

Draco Malfoy - Birth Chart Interpretation Masterlist

Part I Part II

Part III Part IV

Part V Part VI

Part VII Part VIII

Part IX Part X

Part XI Part XII

Sun Aspects Moon Aspects

Ascendant Aspects Mercury Aspects

Venus Aspects Mars Aspects

Jupiter Aspects Saturn Aspects

Uranus Aspects Neptune Aspects

Pluto Aspects

____________________________________

G'Day!

Welcome, mates, to my Draco Malfoy Birth Chart Interpretation master post.

As I always mention, I'm no professional at this. If I'm incorrect about something, please, please, let me know. I don't want to spread misinformation.

Essentially, those who have followed along (like 3 people, but I appreciated those 3 sm) will now understand how my OC, Camila Reinherz, will fit into the HP Universe.

If ya new here, I am writing a Harry Potter based fanfiction, written in Draco Malfoy's perspective. All seven stories in Draco's perspective. I am trying my damn hardest to keep it to canon, but with not a lot given by JKR about Draco's perspective, I went crazy and made some lore.

The lore, is tied to a character/family I created, allowing Draco to have other connections away from school. You can read about the added character, here.

Writing a Draco Malfoy fanfic that is as close to canon that it can be, with added lore, is incredibly difficult when there's not a whole lot of deep information about Draco's personal life. We only see him through Harry's eyes, which is a negative perspective because of bad first impressions.

So, we analyse Draco's birth chart, instead.

Luckily, we do have Draco's birthdate; 5th June, 1980. Solid, right?

JKR didn't give us a birth time *groans in Australian*

JKR also didn't give us a birth place *curses in Australian*

I had to go searching for information, and I wasn't confident I would find I good sauce, especially considering that this decision changes everything, in a birth chart.

I found a sauce.

June 5th 1980, 15:30, London.

I believe a Libra Ascendant matches Draco most, and you will find out why when we discuss his first house.

For those who can't read a birth chart, don't worry about the above chart - I'll be going through this for a reason.

Why am I doing this? Because I refuse to enter this challenge writing the same old, tired, over-used, bad-boy character that everyone seems to have pinned him as. I want him to have proper character arc and character growth. You cannot convince me that ending up with Astoria Greengrass, a half-blood from the sacred twenty-eight, is character growth (she DIES anyway!!!).

I won't be using any photos of movie Draco throughout this series. With books, you are only given a visual through words, and that's how it will stay.

You guys have no idea how excited I have been to drop who my fanfic is centred on 😭

[cauldron-of-oddities]

It's about two hours to midnight for me. Enjoy the silliness inspired by my yuletide tipsiness.

Apples are lovely.

Had he known what the evening had in store for him, he might not have come. But well, Jinx’s pretty pleading eyes and the promise of fancy snacks had convinced him. And ok, possibly the promise of causing some (minor) mayhem at a Pilty party was too good to pass up.

So here they were, at a house so posh it made him want to gag. Before he could ask how she got an invite to a place like this, Jinx was talking. “Sickening, isn't it? And you know what's the worst?

“It's built on cursed ground?” He jokes.

“No. This, this is Vi's girlfriend's place and it's her party”

Damn, she was glad she brought Ekko along, her grounding force when dealing with her sister, her best friend, her partner in crime for pranks, her ‘I would really like you to be kinda more than a friend’ friend but well, he's never shown any interest like that. Also, who would be interested in such a scrawny chaotic person? But she has different fish to fry tonight. Those fish? To annoy her sister, scandalise her sister's girlfriend, and find the perfect place for a glitter bomb.

Jinx gears up to ring the bell when the door slams open with a force that could only herald Vi. “Pow! You made it and Ekko, too! Awesome! Come on. Get in!”

Looking at all the luxury within Ekko had to control the impulse to take or break something. Or maybe that was a response to the grimace Jinx had on her face to Vi using Jinx's old nickname. Either way, self-control was the name of the game, and he worried for Jinx. Grabbing Jinx's hand and rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand and wrist, he could feel some of the tension leave her. The little action did not go unnoticed by Vi, who only raised her eyebrow. But before she could make any remarks, a voice sounded from behind her.

“Ah, hello there” from a rather tall woman in a dress that was definitely made to flatter and in all likelihood cost more than he'd earn in a week, startled him out of his thoughts.

After a more than awkward introduction to Caitlyn, aka the ‘cupcake’ - he could see why She was sweet, almost too sweet. - and being led to a spacious living room, he had to conclude the party was not too bad, the pleasant hum of different people chatting (even if it was a bit stiff, should he take a page out of Jinx's book and spike some punch? There was probably a good bottle of strong booze in this house. The food was good (even if the canapes were a tad pretentious), and the person he'd found to talk to was interesting. Viktor, also from Zaun and could actually follow Ekko when he started about his inventions.

Jinx, in the meantime, had, with all the grace of a lazy cat, flopped down onto an ostentatious looking couch that was decidedly not comfy. All looks and design and no plush. Bad couch. Ekko had left her with her sister to go socialise himself and enjoy all the food by the looks of it. So here she was feeling all sorts of awkward and frustrated, only made worse by Caitlyn joining Vi on the other couch and being particularly lovey dovey with each other. So, her sister was smitten with wealthy, tall, dark, and busty. The cupcake must have a whole hoard of admirers, and she steals her sister.

Her expression must have been something because Vi looked up and asked her what she was glaring about.

“You. You sold your soul for fancy clothes, canapes, and a pair of cantaloupes!” As Jinx said it, she couldn't stop herself, glancing down rather forlornly at her own chest. “What? You jealous? Vi asked with a laugh.

Jinx grumbles under her breath and turns to look at Ekko on the other side of the room in his own conversation. Hoping that he'd look up and come save her from her rather awkward predicament.

Sniggering Vi can't stop herself when she follows her sister's stare. “Heh, apples are good too, just ask Little man”

Jinx thinks to herself that blushes should not be allowed to go that deep. As she feels herself flush from cheeks down to her stomach where the already jittery butterflies up their dance to another level. “What do you mean?”

“People have different tastes?” Vi suggests with another laugh. “Here, let's ask him”

“What!? No!” Oh, let the world swallow her whole. This was not happening.

“Hey! Little man!” Vi called out as she put Jinx in a headlock when Jinx tried to pounce on her and muffled another rather panicked “No!” Ekko looked up from his conversation “Yeah?”

“Come settle something for us.” Vi said. Seeing Jinx and Vi wrestling made both nostalgia and suspicion rise in him, why oh why did this feel like some sort of trap? “You prefer apples or melons?” The question seemed innocent enough but well to be safe: “Why are we debating fruit?”

“Humour me. Little man.” Vi's tone leaves no room for further explanation. “Ok, ok. Apples. They fit into your hand better, and less messy peeling is involved.”

It couldn’t have been a better answer Vi thought as she doubled over and started howling with laughter and Caitlyn joined in by sniggering politely behind her hand though the snort that escaped cracked some of the prim and proper princess look. Jinx, however, looked utterly mortified.

Jinx was sure she's completely crimson by now. A jumbled mess of feeling bubbled up violently in her, and all she wanted was to run away from the embarrassment. Everything becoming just a bit too much. She throws a pillow at Vi and then one at Ekko for good measure (does he even realise what he said!?) and runs out of the room.

With complete confusion, now holding the pillow flung at his face, Ekko turns toward Vi for some sort of clarification. “What…? Um, we were talking about fruit, right? Right?” an odd sort dread settled in his stomach.

“Yeah, we were talking about fruit and different tastes, Ekko. Don't worry.” Vi managed to get out between the laughter.

Don't worry. Vi had said, but with how Jinx stormed off, he was worried though, had he made her lose the debate? Was said debate even about fruit? And that there might be a glitter bomb going off way too early. Seeing Jinx upset never sat well with him. He liked her happy and smiling (preferably at him). Wondering in which direction she went and if he should follow her, Caitlyn got up. “I'll have a quick look for her. It is my house, I know the best hiding spots.”

This house was a winding maze, but Jinx did have to admit all the different rooms made for easy hiding. Eventually, Jinx found herself in one of the bathrooms. One hidden away, a good hallway removed from the living room where the party was. Oh, hell. She'd wanted a rise out of her sister, for her to feel some of her frustration at her leaving and leaving for a Pilty no less! Instead, she got hit over the head with her insecurities, and Vi yet again teased her about Ekko. Was she that evident? Why hadn't Ekko picked up on it after all these years? Was she just not attractive enough?

Mumbling to herself and looking in the mirror

Jinx splashed some cold water onto her burning cheeks, only for her thoughts to stray. To what Ekko said. How with one remark all sorts of terrible ideas start running through her head. Oh, she wouldn't mind his hands on her apples so to speak, wouldn't mind kissing and teasing him for such a remark either… shaking herself from her daydream she takes stock of her rather casual crop top, just a t-shirt model. She hadn't wanted to put any effort into getting dressed to go to a party she didn't want to. She sort of regrets it now.

A soft laugh sounds from behind her. In the mirror, she sees Caitlyn holding a rather pretty crop top. V- neck halter, black and covered in sequins. And damn it, it's just her sort of thing. “You know, if, by what Vi says is true and his reaction after you ran off, your friend is rather smitten with you regardless.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you, with a peace offering so to speak. Look I like your sister a lot, so give me a chance?” Holding up the top.

“And why would I fit into anything of yours?”

“Because it is not mine, it is for you. Your sister is terrible at shopping but surprisingly good at picking things others would like. Anyway she saw it in a store I was shopping at, said this would be your thing, panicked at the price and considering your birthdays round the corner I got it. Or rather, to put it bluntly, I am not above a bit of bribery for the sake of peace.”

Eyeing the top with suspicion and interest she makes a grab for it and before Caitlyn can blink she's swapped tops and is tying the new top back.

“You know what cupcake, you get points for blatant bribery”

Jinx won't say thank you to the damn princess, but her boobs look the bomb in this top, still small, but it made the curves she did have appear just that bit more alluring. Jinx giggled to herself. If, what miss not so proper after all said was true then… could she get that opening? It was embarrassing, but at the same time, she'd also been handed prime teasing material.

Caitlyn doesn't need vocal thanks. She can wait it out. Besides the preening in the mirror and the little mumble about Ekko were telling enough.

“Stop worrying, Caitlyn has a way with people”

“Yeah, but I feel like I said something wrong, but she likes apples, so why?”

“Here, have some pie, different question: you and my sister”

Ekko almost chokes on the bite he takes and Vi hits him a few times on his back.

He looks up at her like a deer in headlights.

“We're best friends, she wouldn't see me that way.”

“So you're interested?”

“Uh.” Ekko searched his brain for a way to get out of this conversation.

“Because I think she is too, and with me being away, it would actually put my mind at ease a bit.”

She sounded sincere, and he'd be lying to himself if he denied the bubble of hope rising in him. Taking another bite of the pie, apples with a bit of bite and spice, he wondered what would have set Jinx off. Apples are palm sized and easy to peel, so what was it about that? The thought trails off when Jinx comes back in, Caitlyn behind her. Her previously plain, if cute top had been replaced with an upgraded and definitely more festive version, and he felt part of his rational mind abandon him as his eyes trailed the deep neckline.

“Cupcake, your back, I missed you.”

“I was gone all of fifteen minutes, maximum Vi. Are you sure you missed me?”

“Of course I did and your lovely melons” As Vi cheekily nuzzled Caitlyn's chest”

“... really? Come on, behave.”

Ekko, still a little star stuck, only catches half the conversation, but it's enough for the penny to drop, a whole bag of them even. Melons as breasts… apples or melons, melons, or apples. Perfectly palm sized. Palm sized apples, Vi's question, apples…, Jinx a lovely colour of crimson, apples… Jinx in a lovely top that would probably peel right off…he'd said apples. Oh hell, that wicked pretty grin he loved was back on her face as she took a bite out of an apple that had appeared out of nowhere. He was sure he would never be able to look at the fruit or her the same way again. His fingers twitched. Was he terrible thinking he'd really like to touch?

To add to his internal crisis, Jinx’s following words were devastating in the way that he was fairly sure his sanity had exited the building.

“Want a bite?” She leaned forward, holding out the apple for him. As she did, he swore it was on purpose, and he did his best to keep his eyes on her face. Also, a mistake as now all her smile seemed to tell him was to lean forward too. What happened next may as well be worse.

“What if I said I wanted it peeled?” Dread dropped on him like a stone. He did not just say that. He had, though, hadn't he? Umm, fuck, seemed it was his turn to run away.

Feeling the heat in his cheeks, he stumbled over the edge of one of the couches and, with some sort of trip, turned towards the nearest exit, the balcony. He entirely missed the satisfied smile that crossed her face only to immediately fall when he ran. Outside as the cool air hit him, a sigh of relief escaped him, crossing his arms on the balustrade and letting his forehead fall onto them he barated himself for letting that slip out. Damn, what if this made their friendship weird?

He heard the click of a door, and he peaked over his shoulder. Leaning against the balcony door, Jinx stood with her arms wrapped around her, and her shoulders hunched. A deep crease on her forehead. Seeing her look so dejected made him want to reach out.

“Did I read you wrong? I’m sorry I'll go. I know I'm just your friend, I know I'm not pretty girlfriend material.”

Not pretty, not girlfriend? No, that would not fly. “Fuck! You are beautiful! I thought you weren't interested.” It burst out of him before he could stop himself. She startled at his exclamation. But she was looking at him now.

Sod his dignity, right now there was someone more important and unless he was terribly terribly wrong, a blatant invitation. Heart beating rapidly in his throat, he dove in, consequences be damned.

“And for your information, I stick to my apple preference. They're absolutely lovely, and so is the person with them, even if she gives me whiplash sometimes.” He said with a wry smile.

The look of dismay gave way to a shy grin. “Yeah?” She stepped closer to him.

Really, he couldn't be blamed for what he did next, certainly not with her mirroring his action of leaning into one another. His hand reached for hers and pulled her to him that final inch.

A warm hand on hers, her butterflies fluttering up to her head and then, soft full lips against her chapped ones, just a quick caress against her, over way too soon. Looking up at half lidded eyes, clouded with something like disbelief, she reached up and laced her fingers through his dreads. A shared look sparking between them, and they came back together again, this time with more confidence. Her mind pleasantly blank, just the sensation of the soft pressure of him against her mouth. It made her lips part in response. It was all the invitation he needed to deepen the kiss. His hands moved to circle round her waist and tealingly trace the bare skin there. A quiet gasp escaped her as one hand crept up to run along the curve of her breast, and his tongue brushed against hers. A high-pitched sound escaped her.

He pulled away. “You ok?”

“Hmmm” She looked dazed as she looked up at him and nuzzled her nose against his.

Giggling, she smoothes her fingers over his cheeks and back to his hair, tugging him back down, her breath still slightly irregular.

Shy was making way for confidence and mischief and he rather liked that. Falling into another kiss.

“So does this mean I get to call you boyfriend?”

“Does this mean I get to call you girlfriend?”

She hit him on the chest for that.

“Yes.” Joy jumping from the word.

“Vi's going to tease us to hell and back, isn't she?.”

“Let her. Sister dearest is probably too busy canoodling with the melon flavoured cupcake anyway.”

“So, what now? Go back in and pillage some more snacks?”

“Or, You could kiss me again.”

He did not need to be told twice. Angling down his lips to hers and rather cheekily sneaking his hand up to the curve of her breast again, he revelled in the soft noises that escaped her. Fuck the fancy canapes his mouth and he had other business tonight Ekko decided right then.

That was until she suddenly pulled away with a dead serious expression, her lips tingling “Ok. So do we give the cupcake and my double crossing sister a pass for the top? Or do we still plant the glitter bomb?”

Between the wicked grin, the distracting cleavage, kiss reddened lips, he decided he'd do whatever the hell she wanted. Causing a bit of mayhem with his girl sounded like a blast.