#have i said how much i love love love your characters yet;;

[deliciousangelfestival]

bucky barned x depressed reader?!!!!!! ☕️🍪

Of course dear. This request is a perfect match for this continuation. I hope you like it.

Only The Lonely - Rain and Umbrella

Summary: After being saved by Bucky and freed from the debt collectors, you finally managed to get a job with normal working hours. You thought you’d lost your late-night train buddy, but Bucky still visits your place whenever he can.

Everything seemed fine—until you ran into someone from your past. Suddenly, all the feelings you had been holding back came flooding out.

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Genre: Romance, Action, Comedy, Slice Of Life

Part 1, Part 2

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By the way I publish my book Arrogant Ex Husband in Kindle. 👉 Now available on e-Kindle Amazon! << here's the link.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

“Giving what you can, even when you don’t have much, makes you the richest person,” your grandfather would always say. On his birthday, instead of celebrating, he spent the day handing out free food to the homeless. It was his way of teaching you that kindness ripples back in unexpected ways.

That lesson became your compass, even when life pushed you into the shadows. For three long years, you had been hiding—avoiding the gang that chased you, ducking into smaller, quieter corners of existence. Yet, even when you struggled, you gave. Like the day you paid for a mother’s milk at the store with the last of your cash, and somehow, you landed a cashier job at a car workshop that very evening.

And now, giving extra food—a small, unthinking act of kindness—had saved your life. Who would have thought your train buddy was capable of something like this?

After Bucky untied you from the ropes, you stumbled forward, your muscles sore and stiff. His strong hands caught your arm and steadied you without a word. The cold air outside the warehouse hit you hard, but you welcomed it—it was freedom. Around you, the gang members lay crumpled—some groaning, others fainted in various awkward positions.

You turned to Bucky, your breath visible in the freezing air. “How… how can I repay this?” you stammered, still processing everything.

Bucky looked around at the chaos, then back at you, expression unreadable. “You’ve already paid me.”

“What?” you whispered, confused.

He raised a gloved hand and pointed. “Monkey bread—for him,” he said, nodding toward a man sprawled against a crate.

Your eyes widened.

“Beef Wellington,” he continued, motioning to another unconscious man slumped against the hood of a car.

“And Fish and Chips—for him,” Bucky finished, nodding toward a guy dangling limply from a chain.

You blinked, processing his words. Then it hit you—your cooking. That’s what this was about. “Wait… you mean the meals I gave you at the shelter?” you asked incredulously.

Bucky didn’t respond, but the faintest flicker of amusement passed through his blue eyes.

The surreal realization was too much; you let out a soft, shaky laugh, half disbelieving. “So… that’s what you were doing when the lights went out?”

Bucky didn’t answer. Instead, he shrugged off his leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders. You flinched at the weight of it, stunned at the unexpected warmth—both from the jacket and from him.

“Let’s go home,” he said softly, his voice as gentle as the night air.

Since that night, something shifted between you and Bucky. The quiet man who barely spoke a word became a constant presence in your life. You didn’t know how he’d taken down the gang—single-handedly, no less—but he had ended the nightmare that stole your freedom.

Days passed, and slowly, you found pieces of your old life returning. The hotel manager—the one you used to gossip about with Bucky—tracked you down one afternoon. When he saw you, his expression softened, his tone low and warm.

“Life’s been hard on you,” he said, a quiet statement that felt like a hand on your shoulder.

You swallowed hard, your chest tight as you struggled to hold back tears.

He offered you a lifeline: “I have a friend who owns a small café. They’re looking for a barista. I know you’re good with coffee—you’re overqualified, honestly.”

Your breath hitched. A job. A normal job. No more vampire hours. No more hiding.

You smiled weakly, trying to speak past the lump in your throat. “Thank you,” you whispered, barely audible.

But relief came with a bittersweet edge. A job with regular hours—9 a.m. to 4 p.m.—meant no more morning train rides with Bucky. Those quiet, unspoken moments had become a comfort, and losing them stung more than you expected.

When Bucky heard you suggest a visit to your café, he didn’t hesitate. “I’ll stop by after I wake up.”

You paused, curiosity tugging at you. “Wait... what time do you usually sleep?”

“Sleep?” Bucky’s voice trailed off, his expression unreadable. Silence followed as he stared off at nothing. For him, sleep wasn’t a comfort. Resting for three long months in a coma had left its mark—it was enough sleep for a lifetime. Being idle, trapped in a body that couldn’t move, was unbearable. The thought of sleep brought back those suffocating memories, and he avoided it whenever he could.

Instead, Bucky spent his nights on late trains. The rhythmic clatter of wheels on tracks calmed him in a way nothing else did. The hum of motion, the gentle swaying, the faint, distant sound of announcements—it was constant, predictable, alive. Trains were his solace. There, in the quiet hum of machinery, Bucky didn’t feel alone.

“Well, aside from that,” you said, snapping him from his thoughts. “Visit my café, and I’ll give you the best sandwich you’ve ever had.” You paused, then remembered his preference. “Oh—come around 2 or 3 p.m. It’s quieter then. Fewer people.”

Bucky nodded, his usual silent agreement. “Alright.”

Since that day, Bucky stopped by your café whenever he could. Most weeks, he visited twice. Your co-workers noticed him immediately, his tall figure and striking demeanor impossible to miss. But none dared to approach him. Bucky had an aura—one that screamed, “Don’t talk to me.”

It had been a few months now, and the rainy season had settled in. One afternoon, the skies opened up. Rain pounded against the café windows, blurring the view outside. Bucky walked in, his clothes slightly damp, as if he’d miscalculated the storm. After finishing his sandwich, he stood to leave, glancing out at the relentless downpour.

“Wait!” You grabbed the bright yellow umbrella sitting near the counter and held it out to him.

Bucky frowned. “Do you have another color?”

You shook your head. “No. Take it.”

He stared at the umbrella, reluctant, almost as if offended by the bright hue. But after a moment, he sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. He took it.

“Bye!” you called as he left, your voice light with amusement.

☕☕☕☕

The next day started like any other. The café was warm and bustling as you worked behind the counter. The hum of the espresso machine, the hiss of steamed milk, and the soft murmur of conversations filled the air. You greeted customers with a smile, moved quickly between orders, and wiped down counters when the rush slowed.

Then you heard your name—spoken softly, yet somehow sharp enough to pierce through the noise.

You looked up, and your stomach dropped. Toby.

Your ex-boyfriend stood there. His face betrayed his shock. “It’s… wow. How? I don’t even know what to say. You’re… you’re here?”

Clearing your throat, you straightened, forcing calm into your voice. “I’m fine. Everything’s been taken care of. What do you want to order?”

Toby blinked, regaining focus. “Just… a regular hot Americano, please.”

“One hot Americano,” you repeated, turning to the machine. He followed your movements, lingering on the other side of the counter.

“You look good,” he said suddenly. His voice was soft, genuine. “I’m glad you’re okay now.”

You glanced at him, just for a moment. And then you saw it. The silver ring glinting on his left hand—fourth finger.

Before you could react, a deafening crack of thunder shook the café. Everyone flinched, covering their ears instinctively. Even Toby winced.

“That’s loud,” he muttered, forcing a smile. “I’m glad I brought an umbrella—just in case.”

“Yes,” you replied stiffly, handing him his coffee. “It’s always smart to prepare for the rain.”

Toby paused, his eyes lingering on you longer than they should have. “It’s good to see you,” he said softly. “And knowing you’re okay… it means a lot.”

You nodded slowly, your throat tight. “Goodbye, Toby.”

He left, the café door swinging shut behind him, the bell jangling softly.

The moment he was gone, everything around you felt distant, unreal. You went numb. Your hands moved on their own—wiping counters, refilling the sugar dispenser—but it was like your body was acting without you.

“I need to step out for a bit,” you mumbled to your coworker.

“Under this heavy rain? Are you serious?” she called, but you didn’t hear her. You were already out the door.

The rain hit you instantly, cold and heavy, soaking through your clothes in seconds. You squinted through the downpour, but you could still see him—Toby—his figure fading as he walked farther away.

Your feet hesitated at first, uncertainty freezing you in place. Should you follow him? But then he turned a corner, disappearing from sight, and something inside you broke.

You ran.

The rain blurred everything—your vision, your surroundings—but you didn’t stop. Water sloshed into your shoes, weighing you down, but you pushed forward. Your heart pounded, a warning deep in your chest. And then you saw him again.

He walked into a small gift shop. You slowed, panting, your chest heaving. Through the rain-slicked windows, you saw her—a woman—walking up to Toby with a smile. She leaned in and kissed his cheek.

CRACK. Another thunderclap shook the sky, louder this time. It felt like the thunder was mocking you.

☕☕☕☕

Back at the café, Bucky stepped inside, shaking water from the yellow umbrella you’d given him. His eyes swept the room quickly. “Where is she?” he asked your coworker.

“She went out. Said she needed to chase something. She didn’t take an umbrella or a jacket.”

Bucky didn’t wait to hear more. He turned and ran back into the rain, the yellow umbrella forgotten in his grip.

The rain was relentless. Bucky scanned the streets, his sharp gaze darting from one figure to the next. He moved quickly, following his instincts. Then he saw you.

You were walking slowly now, soaked to the bone, your shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world had settled there.

Bucky approached you quietly, matching your pace. When he reached you, he didn’t say a word. He simply opened the yellow umbrella above your head, shielding you from the rain.

You blinked, startled. The absence of cold raindrops pulled you from your thoughts, and you looked up. Bucky stood beside you, his face calm but unreadable, the umbrella angled to keep you dry.

For a moment, you just stared at him. His blue eyes searched yours, patient, steady—waiting.

“Bucky…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes said enough: I’m here.

The rain fell relentlessly, soaking through your clothes, clinging to your skin, but you welcomed it. You wanted the coldness to freeze your thoughts, the heaviness of the downpour to wash away the tears streaming down your cheeks. Maybe, just maybe, the rain could hide how much you were crying. But no amount of cold could numb the ache inside you.

Why did I go after him? you thought bitterly, scolding yourself. Deep down, you knew—you felt—that you shouldn’t have followed him. Your instincts had warned you, whispered that you wouldn’t like what you saw, that you’d be disappointed.

It’s not that you still loved him or had any lingering feelings for him. It was the memories—the life you had before all of this—that you missed. Memories have a cruel way of hurting you, a constant reminder of what’s lost, especially when you know you can’t turn back time or rewrite the past.

The breakup wasn’t filled with anger or betrayal. It had been mutual—an agreement you both made, though it shattered your heart. Toby had been kind, too kind. When the debt collectors started chasing you, hounding your brother’s unpaid loans, Toby had offered to pay it all. But you couldn’t let him. It wasn’t his burden to carry.

The debt collectors—the gangsters—ruined everything. They made your life unbearable, calling Toby’s parents, threatening him and anyone close to you. That’s when you decided it was enough. You ended the relationship to protect him, to free him. Then you ran. You moved across the country, hiding, surviving. You cut ties with friends because even they weren’t safe.

And now, seeing him… seeing him happy with someone else…

You pressed a hand to your chest, as if trying to hold the pieces of your heart together. If my brother had never taken that loan… I wouldn’t have to run. I wouldn’t have to hide. I wouldn’t have to live in constant fear.

The years of silent suffering weighed on you, and the truth surfaced: you’d been depressed all this time. You pushed it down, locked it away, told yourself you were fine because you had no choice but to keep going. But right now, in the middle of the rain, all of those feelings clawed their way to the surface.

Then you heard his voice.

“What can I do to help you?” Bucky’s voice was soft yet steady, cutting through the storm like a lifeline.

You froze. The words hit you harder than you expected. You blinked up at him, rainwater still running down your face like invisible tears.

Those words. That was what you wanted to hear. That was what you had needed for so long. Without thinking, you closed the distance between you, your arms wrapping tightly around Bucky’s torso.

“Nothing,” you whispered into his chest, your voice shaking. “Just stay.”

The dam broke. Your tears finally came—hot, unrelenting sobs wracking your body. You cried for everything you’d lost, for the years you spent pretending you were okay, for the regrets and burdens you had carried alone.

Bucky stood stiffly at first, his arms slightly raised as if unsure what to do. He was caught off guard. You’d fooled him. He thought you were okay after he’d taken care of the debt collectors—the men who had chased you, terrorized you. He thought his help had freed you. But it hadn’t.

She’s been hiding it, Bucky realized, his jaw tightening. Depressed people were like that—they hid their pain so well that even someone like him couldn’t see it.

Slowly, his arms came down around you, one hand resting lightly on your back, the other shielding your head from the rain. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He just held you as you cried, letting you break down in the safety of his presence.

Bucky brought you back to his place—a small, unassuming apartment that was surprisingly warm. He let you take a hot shower, the steam and heat finally driving the cold from your bones. When you emerged, you were wrapped in one of Bucky’s sweatshirts—soft, oversized, and smelling faintly like leather and soap.

You sat on his couch, knees drawn up, still sniffling quietly. Bucky handed you a small bar of chocolate.

“Mint chocolate?” you asked, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“Everyone likes chocolate,” Bucky replied, sitting across from you. He watched you carefully, his gaze softer now.

A long pause settled between you, broken only by the sound of rain tapping on the window. Then Bucky spoke, his tone even, but with an edge of seriousness.

“Do you want me to handle your brother?”

You looked up, confused. “Handle him?”

Bucky’s expression darkened slightly. “He’s the reason you’re living like this. In my line of work, people take responsibility for what they’ve caused. He’s the one responsible. He should pay for it.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. “Thank you, but…” You hesitated, staring at your hands. “I’ve been looking for him for the past three years. I can’t find him.”

Bucky leaned back, arms crossing over his chest. His voice was calm but firm. “Don’t worry. I’ll find him.”

Your lips parted slightly, taken aback by the certainty in his words. “Jeez, Bucky… how could I ever repay you for all of this?”

Bucky shrugged, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. “The coffee, the sandwiches, and that umbrella are enough.”

You huffed a small, tired laugh, shaking your head. For the first time in years, you felt a little lighter.

Bucky sat back, watching you. He didn’t need to say it, but you understood: you weren’t alone.

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ON THE RING

ex!boxer k. Bakugou x fem!reader

Synopsis!: Bakugo Katsuki, a cocky and determined boxer, is convinced he’s the best—and that [Y/N] should still be his. Teasing her with his usual arrogance, he’s confident she’ll come crawling back. But as he pushes her buttons, he soon realizes that winning her over might be a fight he’s not prepared for.

Warnings!: strong language!, suggestive, mature content!, aged up characters, SMAU!, maybe a lil writing in the future, multi-parts, non canon!Bakugou

previous • part7 • next?

INCLUDES WRITTEN PART

The girl was standing by the door. Patiently waiting for Bakugou’s arrival.

She didn’t know what she was going to say, nor how she was going to say it, but she knew that whatever went down tonight, it would utterly alter their chemistry.

Surprisingly she was much comfortable with their relationship status right now. But something deep down screamed for a change and she wanted to satisfy that desire.

It took no longer than 20 minutes for the boxer to reach her doorstep. With a confident hand he knocked on her door.

As the girl opened it she was faced with a big bouquet of roses. Red , white , pink and even blue. “no way” she let out as she took ahold of the flowers, inhaling the aurora smell. “Katsuki you didn’t have to” she lightly punched his shoulder.

“You sounded a little gloomy so i wanted to lighten up your mood” he faintly smiled as his eyes followed her figure.

“Still, you shouldn’t have gone out of your way like this” She said as she placed down the bouquet. “But thanks for coming over, i just felt so overwhelmed with emotion, i needed your help”

Katsuki enters, his typical confident and cocky demeanor on full display. “Alright, alright, so you called me over here to talk about your feelings, huh?” He grins, crossing his muscular arms across his chest as he leans against the the wall.

The boxer looks at her with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity. He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. “Alright, I'm curious. Let's hear it. What's got you so overwhelmed that you needed my help?"

“I just… i don't know” she shakes her head “ i was so prejudiced about the idea of us talking, getting back together. But the more i talk to you…i just can’t help but feel something for you”.

The girl had no idea why she was so straight up with him. Why he felt so easy to talk to. He was her ex. They had broken up for a reason. Yet again she couldn’t keep her distance, she couldn’t resist the urge to go up to him, to hug him, to kiss him, to feel him, just like she used to.

The blondes usual confident demeanor falters slightly as she's so straightforward with her words. He is surprised at first, but he quickly regains his composure. “What did you just say?” He pushes himself off the wall and takes a few steps towards her.

She felt like he was taunting her. Like he was teasing her, making her repeat herself for his satisfaction.

Katsuki grins as he steps closer, his eyes narrowing further. “And what, exactly, do you feel for me? Is it longing? Desire? Love?"

He smirks, knowing he's enjoying watching her trying to figure out her own emotions.

The girl is irritated with his behavior. He is teasing her, making her confess without him confirming if he feels the same. He’s just stroking his ego. She had called him over for a wholesome conversation but he is not cooperating.

“Is this your idea of fun?” she deadpans feeling insecure under his strong crimson gaze. “Making me confess to you about how much i want you” she took a step closer as-well. Katsuki laughs as she takes a step closer to him, clearly enjoying her irritation.

"Oh, come on. It's not 'my idea of fun' but seeing you all frustrated and annoyed is definitely a bonus, I'll admit." He grins widely, his crimson eyes staring at her, his muscular frame towering over her.

"Besides, I'm not 'making you' confess to me. You brought me here because you wanted to talk about how you're feeling, right? And now you're getting all embarrassed because you can't even figure out your own emotions?"

He lets out a scoff, clearly enjoying the upper hand in this situation. He takes another step closer, shortening the distance between them.

“Are you just gonna act like i’m the only one feeling this way” she challenges, the tension thick in the air. “I see the way you look at me Katsuki, i can feel the way you touch me even tho its unnecessary, i acknowledge the things you do for me that you don’t for anyone else.”

Katsuki grins at her answer “oh, so you think you’ve got me all figured out huh? You’ve got all these little clues and hints to prove that i want you?”

"But here's the thing, princess. You might think you know me, but do you really? Do you know why I act the way I do around you?” The blonde reaches forward, gently grabbing her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look up at him.

"Maybe I just like the way you squirm and get all flustered when I tease you. Maybe it's just a power play, making you confess your feelings and desires to me while I sit back and enjoy the show." He grins, his thumb lightly running over her bottom lip, almost tauntingly.

"Or maybe I do have feelings for you, but I'm just too damn stubborn to admit it." he finished. Y/n rolled her eyes “You’re playing too much right now and i’m starting to regret calling you over”

“Oh, come on. You can't call me over, confess your 'feelings' for me and then get all annoyed when I don't immediately admit that I feel the same way. It's too easy for me to tease you, princess." He leans in slightly, his breath hot against her ear.

"Besides, you know you love the way I make you squirm." He continued taunting her "You can't help but love the way I make your heart race, the way I make you blush and stumble over your words. You love the way I tease and taunt you, because deep down, you know you love the attention I give you."

He whispered in her ear, his voice low and almost sensual, his body now pressed against her. He runs a hand down her side, his touch electrifying against her skin.

To say that the girl was stunned was an understatement. However nothing had prepared her for the sudden kiss that Katsuki had suddenly indulged her in.

His lips were rough up against her soft ones. She could also feel a scar, that was probably caused by his sparring. His callused hand was resting on the small of her back as he pulled her even closer to his body.

The kiss was hungry, long anticipated. The boxer need it her. He wanted more of her. A kiss just wasn’t enough to satisfy his craving.

His tongue was wrestling with hers. Both of them trying to assert dominance. But his hands driving lower on her body distracted her from the kiss.

She felt his hand land on her ass, as he squished at the flesh. The kiss was now broken as he guided his lips down to her neck and collarbone leaving small bites and kisses to her delicate skin.

Soft breaths were leaving her mouth, a few whimpers escaping with every bite and sucking of his. “Just like that” , “i want to hear you” he would whisper to her as his hand traveled dangerously close to her womanhood.

The girl pressed her thighs together at the touch. Trapping his hand as well. He only chuckled at that as he suddenly lifted her up, her legs automatically hugging his waist.

It was as if she weighed nothing when he walked towards the couch. Gently placing her on the soft cushion.

“I want you so bad” he whispered as he kissed the helix of her ear. The girl only responded with another passionate kiss as her hand landed on his abs.

His hips moved with rhythm as his clothed part grinded against hers. He could only imagine how he would feel inside her. Filling her up with his cock as she drowned in her moans.

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[monstertreden]

ˎˊ˗ STARK REALITY ˎˊ˗

-Reader: GN reader (It can be either platonic or romantic) -TW: Angst to the core (I suppose it is somewhat bittersweet) -Character: Rodimus Prime (Transformers series) -Summary: Lately, the captain of the Lost Light had begun neglecting his own responsibilities, anchoring himself to his berth... -Word count : 1489 A/N: I'm dropping this before christmass hell yeahw 🔔 I started to work on this after me and my friend joked about Rodimus using Gen Z slang 💀💀

“Rodimus- I swear to Primus-‘m thryng…mhh to…sleep, one more metal-crushing hug and I’ll throw you out of the ship...”

“Hey hey heyyy slow down there pretty, how could you ever blame me?? Damn, you don’t know how HARD is to keep my servos all to myself when I know you feel sooo nice snuggled in my arms like this” There he was, once again, sprawled in his room on his berth, venting softly in the quiet intimacy of the moment. He had his servo draped around his sparkmate’s waist, holding them close. That menace of a bot curled his lips into a playful pout, resting his chin lightly on their helm as he let out a theatrical sigh “You’re always a party pooper”.

In response, the other bot chuckled, shaking their helm at his antics “Me? Shouldn’t YOU be more responsible instead? I’m starting to think that all this Prime thing has gone over your helm...”

"NUH UH now-… alright, maybe just a little...What can I say? On one servo I must tend to my responsibilities as a Prime…" He grinned, his tone becoming lighter as he added with exaggerated flair "Buttt on the other hand… it’s poggers."

His sparkmate groaned audibly, immediately cringing at his elegant choice of words. Yet, they couldn’t expect much else from him—though they still, somehow, managed to have some faith in this lovable fool. “Never. Never say that again.” Exasperated, they buried their faceplate deeper into his plating, slapping his chassis. "I don’t want to hear any more slang you’ve picked up from those fleshies on Earth" they grumbled. “It’s horrible”

A laugh vibrated through his frame, as he squeezed them closer. "Aww, c’mon! It’s totally poggers! You love it," he said, his grin widening. Despite the banter, the comfort between them was unmistakable, their connection stronger than any playful jabs or groggy protests.

"Ughhh, now I completely understand Ultra Magnus," they groaned, their voice dripping with dramatic exasperation as they shifted slightly in his arms.

That remark struck Rodimus right in his spark. With a mock gasp of offense, he clutched at his chassis dramatically, as though they’d just delivered a fatal blow. "Comparing yourself to that old cranky bot?? No way at all!! No way I’m letting you transform into a copy of him!" he retorted, his voice rising in playful indignation as he held her closer, his optics still closed with a cheeky grin spreading across his lips, his tone dropping into teasing. "You’re way cuter, pff" Sticking out his glossa he squeezed them for emphasis like a kid would do with their comfort plushie. "And, most importantly” he continued with a mock-serious tone “you don’t have a stick up your aft like he does, I mean, I can still come to you when I ‘forget’ to report a report."

"You certainly are a pain in the aft," they muttered, though their tone carried no real annoyance.

Pleased with himself, he nuzzled against them like an overgrown turbo-puppy. "Yeah, but you love me anyway, ah" His voice brimming with that unshakable, shameless confidence he always brought with him, a complete package.

Surrendering to Rodimus's behavior, they gently caressed the sides of his faceplate, making him melt in their servos. All pretense of bravado slipped away as his guard came completely down. He curled against them like a small kitten seeking warmth, his frame humming softly in contentment. He was a sucker for cuddles and they both knew it, always seeking comfort in the other's presence, content just by being close to them, helm on top of where their spark resided. “You look silly sleep talking with me with your optics closed shut”.

“’Cause you’re reallyy pretty y’know? Your prettiness can easily blind me, babygirl” What a buffoon he was, but a lovable one, through and through. For them, he would act even stupider, just to hear them laugh, it always sent warm waves to his spark, a steady reminder of why he cherished those moments dearly.

“Rodimus. Prime.” They began, laughing “Let me go!!, I swear I’ll suffocate at this rate in your grasp”

"Nooooo... “ He whined dramatically, like a sparkling throwing a tantrum, yet his loopy grin remained unaltered ” I don't want to let go. I want you close to me."

“I know that you dumb idiot, but you've been in your room for cycles!” Their voice took a softer tone “They need you too, y’know, more than me right now.”

He froze at their words, his systems reacting instantly. His grip tightened instinctively, reluctant to part from their embrace. An unnerving silence settled over them for a moment before his sparkmate murmured, "I’m sorry." They interlocked their digits with his, a gesture that made Rodimus shudder slightly as his shoulders hunched, savoring the warmth of their touch.

" You don’t have to apologize. It's not your fault. I just... I just miss you. I yearn for your touch, warmth, and presence every day” His voice filled with a mix of grief, affection, and longing. “Would you stay for another minute...please?"

He felt their servo come to rest gently over his spark, the warmth of their touch cutting through the storm in his processor. Their voice, soft and soothing, broke through his thoughts. "We both know it’s not healthy" they said, concern threading through their tone.

"I know, doll. I know. But sometimes... Sometimes I just wish I could forget all of that and just hold onto this moment forever."

He let out a sigh, knowing deep down that they were right. He knew he couldn't cope with all of this by isolating himself and reliving memories forever. But letting go was easier said than done, it was too much to bear. How long had he been isolating himself from everything and everyone? Cycles, surely, but it felt like an eternity. The silence of the room, once their sanctuary, now felt suffocating.  Deep down he wanted to break free from this opulent room, but he was holding back, his spark too heavy to simply get up and go on with his day.

"…. but it's just so difficult to move on when I still miss you so much. Every time I look at a room we used to share, it feels like a part of me in my spark dies inside."

There was a moment of steady silence, that made Rodimus feel insecure as he held his breath, as if they were not there until they spoke again.

“I know you keep my chair tidy, but..why don't you just store it away?”

His optics flickered at their words, a faint glimmer betraying the emotions he tried to keep hidden. His grip on their forearms tightened, trembling slightly as if bracing himself against a tide, he stammered, a sour smile on his faceplate.

"I-I  keep your chair tidy because it reminds me of you... of our time together. It's the last thing I have that was truly yours,and.. and throwing it away, moving it out of my sight... it would be like throwing away a part of you."

The confession tumbled out all at once, his tone cracking as he finally admitted the truth aloud. Rodimus paused to recollect himself. His vents hitched, and for a moment, the silence was deafening.

"I know it's foolish, everyone said that..I didn’t mean to lash out at them- but I can't bring myself to discard it-It’s- it’s not just a chair- It's like a silent promise that you'll come back one day.."

He confessed, his voice expressing both grief and frustration. That day, someone had dared to comment on the empty chair, an offhand remark that ignited something volatile within him. He hadn’t taken it well, his usual lightheartedness replaced by an uncharacteristic intensity that even he didn’t fully understand. The chaos in his mind was interrupted by an almost forgotten sensation, their servo, warm and steady, gently guiding his own to rest over their spark... A fresh wave of emotions crashed over him. He knew they were right, that he couldn't stay in this state forever. But the thought of letting go, of moving on, felt like a physical ache in his circuitry. “I’ll always be there, somehow-“

Tears started to prickle his optics* "I..I can’t, I really can’t"

“Listen to me..” They gently turned his faceplate towards hers, servos cradling his faceplate with utter care “You can do it, for me, for you..for us.”

“You still have lots to do, captain.” They soon added, he could feel them cracking a smile at him. “My captain”

Oh, how he wanted to look at their smile once again, yet he kept his optics shut, his spark aching. He knew they were right, that he had his duties as captain to attend to, a crew that needed him to be more than this hollow husk of himself. But moving forward felt impossible, But for them? He’d do anything, he’d tear the Matrix from his chest, give every piece of himself if it meant keeping his promise to them alive. He would try, he’ll try for them, to move on and carry on his duties as captain, even though letting go felt like ripping out a piece of his spark…

Minutes passed and when he felt nothing more against his faceplate that’s when he opened his tired optics, confronted with the stark reality that they were no longer there, his room was empty and cold. The weight of everything crashed down on him and his spark ached with a deep consuming sorrow. He couldn’t stay there anymore, rotting on the berth.

“For you, for me… for us…”

He repeated this as a mantra, slowly getting up from their once-shared berth, fuelled by the love he felt for them and the desire to make them proud. As he got up, his helm felt heavy, he stood there for a moment, brushing his digits against the edge of the berth. Opening the door of his room, he stepped a pede out, the dim lights of the corridors of the Lost Light welcomed him back.

“I promise, watch me.”

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

[hollowed-theory-hall]

hi!

we see harry’s anger truly manifest in ootp, and it was a treat reading your analysis on his ptsd!

but it’s been a longheld belief in the fandom that harry is this firecracker with concerningly poor anger management. which is absurd, frankly imo, because i understand his default style is quiet, intense intimidation, or sass and snark. except when his fury reaches the threshold of his control, and he lets go fully and spectacularly. we also see in the later books that harry keeps trying to rein in the onslaught of fury pouring from voldemort, and while he does channel that anger outwardly, he isn’t making a habit of frequently lashing out at the people around him.

what i’m really asking is, what are your thoughts on harry’s anger and how he manages his frustrations from age eleven to seventeen?

Hello 👋

Thank you! I love my boy Harry and his anger and trauma so much! His trauma doesn't manifest in the way most fandoms usually like to portray trauma, but I always loved how Harry breaks when he reaches his threshold. He's a fascinating character and I find myself disappointed in his treatment over the years in fanon.

As to your question, boy, okay, this is complex and is greatly affected by Harry's mental state. I mentioned here how his anger is often colder and sassier and the fiery anger that's all shouting and cursing is something we only really see from him in OotP and onwards and I believe is the result of trauma, as I mentioned here & here.

But I decided, you know what? I can take a few scenes of his anger from each book. It's something I have a lot of notes about, and I'm surprised I haven't written about it here yet since it's a subject I love talking about.

Now, I do think he has issues with emotional regulation in general. I mean, he was raised in a cupboard under the stairs, he is not emotionally well-adjusted even if he knows to appear as if he is. His anger and how it manifests is a result of years of trauma and abuse. Honestly, though, he manages his anger better than he could have considering his life experience.

So without further ado:

Philosopher's Stone:

In the first book, we see Harry angry at the Dursleys and their unfair treatment of him. This anger is interesting. He has every reason to be angry but it isn't just anger. It's his frustration and helplessness that he feels as anger because he lacks the tools to understand/deal with his emotions.

How we see this anger come out though, is mostly through sass. And even then he makes sure to run/duck away before they could hurt him:

“They stuff people’s heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall,” he told Harry. “Want to come upstairs and practice?” “No, thanks,” said Harry. “The poor toilet’s never had anything as horrible as your head down it ��� it might be sick.” Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he’d said.

(PS, Ch3)

Harry doesn't really have the luxury to get angry or upset because he's the one who would suffer for it. So, he bottles up all his anger and frustration and only lets it out in cold glares and sass even when he's fuming inside. In his heart of hearts, he wishes he could do something to the Dursleys, to hurt them back, but he can't.

I do want to note that Harry's hold on his range isn't him managing it well, it's him bottling it up. This would be very relevant later in this post.

The incident with the Boa Constrictor is one I like. Harry later refers to it as revenge in a moment of anger:

and the very last time Dudley had hit him, hadn’t he got his revenge, without even realizing he was doing it? Hadn’t he set a boa constrictor on him?

(PS, Ch4)

“Out of the way, you,” he said, punching Harry in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened — one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror. Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor’s tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.

(PS, Ch2)

He's unaware that he's doing it, of course, but Harry's magic is powerful and incredibly attuned to him, so of course, it acts up when he's angry. Of course, his magic gets revenge on Dudley when Harry is so angry but feels helpless to do something with it. Harry's magic here shows Harry wishes he could do something, that he could take revenge:

Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from Curses and Countercurses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and Much, Much More) by Professor Vindictus Viridian. “I was trying to find out how to curse Dudley.”

(PS, Ch5)

He just can't. So he bottles up his anger instead.

The other person we see Harry angry at in the first book, is Snape. Harry responds to Snape quite similar to how he responds to the Dursleys:

“Thought you wouldn’t open a book before coming, eh, Potter?” Harry forced himself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. He had looked through his books at the Dursleys’, but did Snape expect him to remember everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi? Snape was still ignoring Hermione’s quivering hand. “What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?” At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling. “I don’t know,” said Harry quietly. “I think Hermione does, though, why don’t you try her?” A few people laughed; Harry caught Seamus’s eye, and Seamus winked. Snape, however, was not pleased.

(PS, Ch8)

He gets angry, inside his head he is fuming, but outside his head, Snape hears a sassy retort said quietly and calmly. Even when Harry is angry he acts calm and quiet and looks like he's joking from Seamus' response. It's why it's so easy for Snape to believe Harry is like James. Harry doesn't show his anger. External he's quiet and sassy becouse he knows if he started shouting he'd be punished more (like at the Dursleys).

So, 11-year-old Harry is quiet outside when angry. Only really shows glares and sass when he's upset while bottling his feelings up. This would continue throughout the years until year 5, for the most part.

Chamber of Secrets:

We see more of this way of handling his anger in CoS (though way less). CoS is not a very angry book, but I found a few examples.

“I have not been visited yet. The name Malfoy still commands a certain respect, yet the Ministry grows ever more meddlesome. There are rumors about a new Muggle Protection Act — no doubt that flea-bitten, Muggleloving fool Arthur Weasley is behind it —” Harry felt a hot surge of anger.

(CoS, Ch4)

Harry is angry. He likes the Weasleys and hates hearing them being talked about like this. Still, no one else sees his anger because he's hiding, and he knows he'd be worse off if he left his hiding spot. Harry isn't all that impulsive (yet). He just swallows his anger down for the sake of what needs to be done — in this case hiding.

“Dobby is used to death threats, sir. Dobby gets them five times a day at home.” He blew his nose on a corner of the filthy pillowcase he wore, looking so pathetic that Harry felt his anger ebb away in spite of himself. [...] Dobby mopped his bulging eyes and said suddenly, “Harry Potter must go home! Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make — ” “Your Bludger?” said Harry, anger rising once more. “What d’you mean, your Bludger? You made that Bludger try and kill me?”

(CoS, Ch10)

Here, we see more of Harry's usual anger and how he bottles everything up. He is rightfully angry at Dobby for everything he did, but he also feels pity for him, his anger doesn't cloud Harry's ability to empathize with others. And if you look at the second quote, you see that in his head Harry is rightfully angry at an attempt to murder him but he's talking calmly and quietly. He isn't shouting. He isn't being violent or impolite. Harry's anger, as seen by others, is cold and quiet because he bottles it up.

“And why did you want to meet me?” said Harry. Anger was coursing through him, and it was an effort to keep his voice steady.

(CoS, Ch17)

This is later, when facing Tom. Harry feels betrayed. He wanted so bad to be Tom's freind, he tried so much to ignore what was happening so he could keep his new BFF and first crush. But when he is betrayed, he gets angry, rightfully so, again. And we see he isn't shouting or acting angry and rashly. He's speaking steadily and quietly and makes an active effort to do so.

Harry knows how he comes off and is actively trying to make his voice steady and not sound angry/scared! He's smart and not impulsive. He's very aware of his external behavior and actively conceals his anger from appearing externally.

My boy is angry, but he isn't a brash hothead.

I do want to note another thing about Harry's anger. Harry responds with anger when he's scared, when he's grieving, when he feels helpless. Anger is just the easiest emotional response for him to go to, and it's why he reacts with anger to a lot of the things he goes through. Anger is an emotion he understands, so everything kinda feels like anger that he can keep pushing down.

Prisoner of Azkaban:

In PoA, we have a few interesting scenes showcasing Harry's anger really well. Some of the anger descriptions from this book are my favorite by far but we'll get to it.

This is the first book we start seeing Harry act out in anger. Until now, we saw Harry fuming inside but acting calm to the outside world. In PoA, he still mostly does that, but we start seeing him cracking under the weight of life. That bottle he's been filling up for years is close to it's threshold.

just as Uncle Vernon burst out of the dining room, his trouser leg in bloody tatters. “COME BACK IN HERE!” he bellowed. “COME BACK AND PUT HER RIGHT!” But a reckless rage had come over Harry. He kicked his trunk open, pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Uncle Vernon. “She deserved it,” Harry said, breathing very fast. “She deserved what she got. You keep away from me.”  He fumbled behind him for the latch on the door. “I’m going,” Harry said. “I’ve had enough.”

(PoA, Ch2)

This above has Harry acting rashly and impulsively in anger. He is ready to just up and go in a moment of rage with little to no forethought which isn't how Harry usually operates. Aunt Marge and Vernon just made him reach his tipping point. Some of that anger has spilled out and Harry's acting out because he doesn't know what else to do.

This is a kid who up to this point never even had the chance to grieve his dead parents properly. He never got to just sit there and feel any of what he's going through. He just keeps swallowing it down and here, we see him start to slip. What he's been pushing down is starting to become too much.

I will note that still, even when he is more brash and angry here, he isn't shouting. He's speaking calmly and evenly even as he's raging inside.

I also want to note the situation with Hermione over the Firebolt:

Professor McGonagall turned on her heel and carried the Firebolt out of the portrait hole, which closed behind her. Harry stood staring after her, the tin of High-Finish Polish still clutched in his hands. Ron, however, rounded on Hermione. “What did you go running to McGonagall for?” [...] Harry knew that Hermione had meant well, but that didn’t stop him from being angry with her. He had been the owner of the best broom in the world for a few short hours, and now, because of her interference, he didn’t know whether he would ever see it again. He was positive that there was nothing wrong with the Firebolt now, but what sort of state would it be in once it had been subjected to all sorts of anti-jinx tests? Ron was furious with Hermione too.

(PoA, Ch11-12)

Harry is mad at Hermione, he has his reasons to be, but he understands why she did it. He is angry, but he's smart and empathetic and he knows Hermione. He knows she only wants him safe, he's still mad, but he doesn't shout at her like Ron does. He pushes his anger down because he doesn't want to upset her. He;s not as furious as Ron is.

In the early books, we see Ron stepping forward to curse Malfoy, shout at Hermione, or stop talking to Harry over the tournament. Ron's the one that is more hot-headed in the early books and springs to act in moments of anger while Harry tends to stay cool-headed (because he pushes his anger down). He is angry inside his head, but he stays calm outside and even stops Ron from going after Malfoy (eat slugs incident, Harry tried to stop him).

(I will note this might have to do with Ron having siblings. Letting your emotions out is a good thing. It is a good thing to tell people you are close to you are upset with them. Arguing with your siblings and shouting at them on occasion can even be healthy! It can keep you from creating grudges and getting bitter. It's not necessarily bad. It's just that Harry and Hermione didn't have siblings and don't know how healthy arguments between people who love each other (which is what Ron is going for with Hermione above) work.)

One of my favorite moments of Harry's anger in the series is everything to do with Sirius when he thinks he's guilty:

A hatred such as he had never known before was coursing through Harry like poison. He could see Black laughing at him through the darkness

(PoA, Ch11)

A boiling hate erupted in Harry’s chest, leaving no place for fear. For the first time in his life, he wanted his wand back in his hand, not to defend himself, but to attack . . . to kill. [...] “NO YOU DON’T!” roared Harry, and he aimed a kick at Crookshanks that made the cat leap aside, spitting; Harry snatched up his wand and turned — “Get out of the way!” he shouted at Ron and Hermione. They didn’t need telling twice. [...] Black was sprawled at the bottom of the wall. His thin chest rose and fell rapidly as he watched Harry walking slowly nearer, his wand pointing straight at Black’s heart. “Going to kill me, Harry?” he whispered. Harry stopped right above him, his wand still pointing at Black’s chest, looking down at him. A livid bruise was rising around Black’s left eye and his nose was bleeding. “You killed my parents,” said Harry, his voice shaking slightly, but his wand hand quite steady.

(PoA, Ch17)

This is the first occurrence we see Harry in a true rage. The kind of anger that pushes him to act impulsively and violently. Harry actually screams in rage.

It's not unreasonable, he thinks Sirius betrayed his parents, these same parents Harry never really got the chance to mourn. But Harry doesn't really shout when angry, he's quiet in his anger usually. But here he actually roars out. He demands Ron and Hermione move from his way, he kicks Crookchanks and goes to kill Sirius. Harry is acting completely from anger without really thinking or realizing what he's doing. This is the kind of rage where you see red and don't really know what you're doing until you're doing it.

I love how he describes it: "coursing through Harry like poison". It's just such a visceral description for a very visceral emotion. This isn't Harry's usual anger, this is rage, this is beyond his usual anger. It's the type of anger most fans associate with him because of OotP. This uncontrolled rage that pushes him to be impulsive is a trauma response. It comes up when Harry is at an emotional low. When there's too much, when he feels to many things and he can't handle them all so he lashes out in anger.

In this case, Harry is facing the man he believes sold out his parents, who trusted him, of course, he's angry and betrayed. Of course, it's different from the anger he feels when Snape is being a dick. It is different. It's rage, and grief, and fear, and pain, and it's a cry for help.

Harry has an impressive capacity to bottle up his emotions, but from book 3, we see him teetering on the threshold. And it just gets worse from here (like his experiences in the books).

Goblet of Fire:

GoF is a rough year, and Harry is very angry throughout this year. Still, we see his usual "cold anger" not his rage. He's angry inside his head, we see it, but he doesn't act out on any of it, nor does he even say anything about it. He's bottling it all up. If we weren't reading his thoughts, we probably wouldn't have these gems of anger:

Harry’s ears were ringing. The injustice of it made him want to curse Snape into a thousand slimy pieces. He passed Snape, walked with Ron to the back of the dungeon, and slammed his bag down onto the table. Ron was shaking with anger too — for a moment, it felt as though everything was back to normal between them, but then Ron turned and sat down with Dean and Seamus instead, leaving Harry alone at his table. On the other side of the dungeon, Malfoy turned his back on Snape and pressed his badge, smirking. POTTER STINKS flashed once more across the room. Harry sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him. . . . If only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse . . . he’d have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching. . . .

(GoF, Ch18)

Harry felt oddly separate from everyone around him, whether they were wishing him good luck or hissing “We’ll have a box of tissues ready, Potter ” as he passed. It was a state of nervousness so advanced that he wondered whether he mightn’t just lose his head when they tried to lead him out to his dragon, and start trying to curse everyone in sight.

(GoF, Ch20)

Harry spends a good chunk of GoF wishing he could curse Snape, other students, and even Ron occasionally. He feels helpless and that makes him angry. But he doesn't actually curse anyone. He doesn't even sass Snape in the above example, he just glares.

But you'll notice, again, the way he handles his anger/other issues is not really about mastering the emotion and letting it go. No, Harry just holds that anger in. He never learned to let it go, so all the times, his anger came off as cold and chill to others; it's because Harry's keeping a lid on things. By GoF, Harry can barely keep the cap on:

From the moment the article had appeared, Harry had had to endure people — Slytherins, mainly — quoting it at him as he passed and making sneering comments. “Want a hanky, Potter, in case you start crying in Transfiguration?” “Since when have you been one of the top students in the school, Potter? Or is this a school you and Longbottom have set up together?” “Hey — Harry!” “Yeah, that’s right!” Harry found himself shouting as he wheeled around in the corridor, having had just about enough. “I’ve just been crying my eyes out over my dead mum, and I’m just off to do a bit more. . . .” “No — it was just — you dropped your quill.” It was Cho. Harry felt the color rising in his face.

(GoF, Ch19)

And so we get scenes like the above. Harry is walking around like a powder keg waiting to explode. He has been bottling his frustration and anger all his life, he comes off as chill not because he manages it well but because he hides it. He makes his voice steady and quiet because it's what he learned at the Dursleys, but it's not that the anger disappears, he holds onto all of it. That's why the worse the situation is, the worse Harry's anger is. He doesn't have the capacity to push it all down.

And this is why he occasionally starts blowing up in GoF. The more helpless and frustrated he is, the more his bottle is filled and he just can't handle it beyond a certain point.

Order of the Pheonix:

OotP is Harry at his angriest. If I wanted to copy all the qoutes from this book that show Harry's anger, I'd probably have to copy the whole book. As it is, I've hand-picked a few examples:

“SO YOU HAVEN’T BEEN IN THE MEETINGS, BIG DEAL! YOU’VE STILL BEEN HERE, HAVEN’T YOU? YOU’VE STILL BEEN TOGETHER! ME, I’VE BEEN STUCK AT THE DURSLEYS’ FOR A MONTH! AND I’VE HANDLED MORE THAN YOU TWO’VE EVER MANAGED AND DUMBLEDORE KNOWS IT — WHO SAVED THE SORCERER’S STONE? WHO GOT RID OF RIDDLE? WHO SAVED BOTH YOUR SKINS FROM THE DEMENTORS?” Every bitter and resentful thought that Harry had had in the past month was pouring out of him; his frustration at the lack of news, the hurt that they had all been together without him, his fury at being followed and not told about it: All the feelings he was half-ashamed of finally burst their boundaries. Hedwig took fright at the noise and soared off on top of the wardrobe again; Pigwidgeon twittered in alarm and zoomed even faster around their heads. “WHO HAD TO GET PAST DRAGONS AND SPHINXES AND EVERY OTHER FOUL THING LAST YEAR? WHO SAW HIM COME BACK? WHO HAD TO ESCAPE FROM HIM? ME!” [...] Harry was not sure his anger had abated yet; but his thirst for information was now overcoming his urge to keep shouting. He sank onto the bed opposite the others.

(OotP, Ch4)

There are two aspects I want to note about his anger here. Harry, as I mentioned above, even when he is mad at Ron and Hermione, he usually doesn't shout at them like this. This is Harry way past his threshold, traumatized with no idea how to handle any of the emotions he's feeling. Ron and Hermione are getting the brunt of that bottle exploding here.

And Harry has a good reason to be angry with them here, don't get me wrong. Harry usually has really good reasons to be angry. I'm just noting that he would have held back his anger if he wasn't in the worst emotional state we've seen from him up to this point. If he had the capacity in his bottle of emotions, Ron and Hermione wouldn't even know he was upset with them.

The other thing I want to bring up is the second section from the above quote. After Harry lets out a bit of the steam he's been building up for years by this point he swallows it down and caps it again because he wants information. He's still angry, he's still upset, but he holds his tongue to get information. He still doesn't feel free or capable of explaining why he's feeling what he's feeling. A lot of it isn't just anger at Ron and Hermione. It's everything. And he has no idea how to parse what he's feeling.

Like I mentioned in the past, Harry doesn't like showing weakness, he doesn't tend to act emotionally or rashly because he knows how people see it. But he isn't actually letting go of all that anger, he lets it build up:

“Harry?” said Hermione tentatively. “Well done,” said Harry, so heartily it did not sound like his voice at all, and still not looking at her. “Brilliant. Prefect. Great.” “Thanks,” said Hermione. “Erm — Harry — could I borrow Hedwig so I can tell Mum and Dad? They’ll be really pleased — I mean, prefect is something they can understand —” “Yeah, no problem,” said Harry, still in the horrible hearty voice that did not belong to him. “Take her!”

(OotP, Ch9)

And up.

He just keeps pushing his anger down. If Sirius hadn't noticed and told him that he and James weren't prefects either, Harry would've kept stewing in it. Because he wouldn't have told Ron and Hermione he was jealous because he doesn't really tell anyone shit. He just lets it build:

“Oh, shut up, the pair of you,” said Harry heavily, as Ron opened his mouth to argue back. Hermione and Ron both froze, looking angry and offended. “Can’t you give it a rest?” he said. “You’re always having a go at each other, it’s driving me mad.” And abandoning his shepherd’s pie, he swung his schoolbag back over his shoulder and left them sitting there. He walked up the marble staircase two steps at a time, past the many students hurrying toward lunch. The anger that had just flared so unexpectedly still blazed inside him, and the vision of Ron and Hermione’s shocked faces afforded him a sense of deep satisfaction. Serve them right, he thought. Why can’t they give it a rest? . . . Bickering all the time . . . It’s enough to drive anyone up the wall. . . .

(OotP, Ch12)

And keeps snapping at everyone becouse he doesn't have a handle on his emotions. He doesn't really process what he's gone through/going through and he's lashing out.

Harry's anger in OotP is the powder keg blowing. It's why he's more rash, more vocal, actually screaming at people in a way he hasn't before. It's why we see him lose control of himself in anger more than before:

Harry was not aware of releasing George, all he knew was that a second later both of them were sprinting at Malfoy. He had completely forgotten the fact that all the teachers were watching: All he wanted to do was cause Malfoy as much pain as possible. With no time to draw out his wand, he merely drew back the fist clutching the Snitch and sank it as hard as he could into Malfoy’s stomach — “Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO !” He could hear girls’ voices screaming, Malfoy yelling, George swearing, a whistle blowing, and the bellowing of the crowd around him, but he did not care, not until somebody in the vicinity yelled “IMPEDIMENTA!” and only when he was knocked over backward by the force of the spell did he abandon the attempt to punch every inch of Malfoy he could reach. . . .

(OotP, Ch19)

Because he reached his limit of how much he can bottle up and he has no healthy means of letting any of it out. The D.A. helped a little as a distraction, it helped him feel less helpless, but he only just addressed the traumatic experience he had in the graveyard by talking about it when more just kept getting piled up onto him.

“Harry — no!” cried Lupin, but Harry had already ripped his arm from Lupin’s slackened grip. “SHE KILLED SIRIUS!” bellowed Harry. “SHE KILLED HIM — I’LL KILL HER!”….. [...] Hatred rose in Harry such as he had never known before. He flung himself out from behind the fountain and bellowed “Crucio!” Bellatrix screamed. The spell had knocked her off her feet, but she did not writhe and shriek with pain as Neville had — she was already on her feet again, breathless, no longer laughing. [...] “Never used an Unforgivable Curse before, have you, boy?” she yelled. She had abandoned her baby voice now. “You need to mean them, Potter! You need to really want to cause pain — to enjoy it — righteous anger won’t hurt me for long — I’ll show you how it is done, shall I? I’ll give you a lesson —”

(OotP, Ch36)

Running after Bellatrix was an impulsive decision. It's that same rage that overtook Harry to kick Crokshanks and try to kill Sirius. It's that seeing red sort of rage that encompasses everything. Grief overflowing Harry's emotional bottle and all he knows how to react with — is anger.

Harry, as I mentioned in the past, doesn't cry in front of others. He doesn't let himself. and the emotions gotta get out somehow. For Harry, that somehow is anger.

Half-Blood Prince:

After Sirius' death, Harry is much rawer. He basically starts this book beyond his threshold.

“If there’s anyone else here who’s not from Gryffindor,” roared Harry, who was starting to get seriously annoyed, “leave now, please!”

(HBP, Ch11)

So he gets annoyed more easily. He lashes out and shouts more often. He tries to physically attack more often too:

“Another ten points from Gryffindor,” said Snape. “I would expect nothing more sophisticated from you, Ronald Weasley, the boy so solid he cannot Apparate half an inch across a room.” “No!” whispered Hermione, grabbing Harry’s arm as he opened his mouth furiously. “There’s no point, you’ll just end up in detention again, leave it!”

(HBP, Ch21)

Something he didn't do up until OotP and even then rarely. Harry is hot-headed not because he's easy to anger (again, his capacity for bottling up is impressive if he just seriously started lashing out in GoF), most of his grievances are reasonable, he's hot-headed becouse he's suffering and has no idea how to handle it.

“Just now!” said Harry, who was refraining from yelling with enormous difficulty. And then, suddenly, he could not stop himself. “AND YOU LET HIM TEACH HERE AND HE TOLD VOLDEMORT TO GO AFTER MY MUM AND DAD!” Breathing hard as though he was fighting, Harry turned away from Dumbledore, who still had not moved a muscle, and paced up and down the study, rubbing his knuckles in his hand and exercising every last bit of restraint to prevent himself knocking things over. He wanted to rage and storm at Dumbledore, but he also wanted to go with him to try and destroy the Horcrux; he wanted to tell him that he was a foolish old man for trusting Snape, but he was terrified that Dumbledore would not take him along unless he mastered his anger. ... “Harry,” said Dumbledore quietly. “Please listen to me.”

(HBP, Ch25)

Again, he snaps and shouts way more than before. And he knows he shouldn't, he knows it comes off bad and people take him less seriously when he's angry and lashing out, but he can't help it as much since he still hasn't started letting go. He's still at his threshold all throughout HBP.

It's why we see him react the way he does after Snape kills Dumbledore, too. He was so angry all year. Since Sirius died, he's been running on fumes. The keg already blew in fifth year, and it didn't help him at all while he's barely holding himself together (but no one else sees this). And then, he had more pushed onto him after he already had less than zero capacity to deal with things.

Deathly Hallows:

Much of the anger we see from Harry in this book is due to either the locket or the Horcrux in him, but I'm not counting that sort of anger. I want to focus on Harry's anger.

The grief that had possessed him since Dumbledore’s death felt different now. The accusations he had heard from Muriel at the wedding seemed to have nested in his brain like diseased things, infecting his memories of the wizard he had idolized. Could Dumbledore have let such things happen? Had he been like Dudley, content to watch neglect and abuse as long as it did not affect him? Could he have turned his back on a sister who was being imprisoned and hidden? Harry thought of Godric’s Hollow, of graves Dumbledore had never mentioned there; he thought of mysterious objects left without explanation in Dumbledore’s will, and resentment swelled in the darkness. Why hadn’t Dumbledore told him? Why hadn’t he explained? Had Dumbledore actually cared about Harry at all? Or had Harry been nothing more than a tool to be polished and honed, but not trusted, never confided in? Harry could not stand lying there with nothing but bitter thoughts for company. Desperate for something to do, for distraction, he slipped out of his sleeping bag, picked up his wand, and crept out of the room.

(DH, Ch10)

Harry's feelings of grief over Dumbledore are interwind with betrayal, helplessness, and feeling lost in general, and he feels all of it as anger. As I mentioned above, anger is Harry's go-to emotion when he's grieving, when he's in pain, when he feels too much and has no idea what to do with any of it — it lands him in anger.

It's a big part of why he reads as so angry with Dumbledore throughout the book. He has complicated feelings about the man, feelings he has no idea how to even start to unpack, so he feels angry.

In DH too, we see him more easily agitated than in the first 4 books. Harry is way past his limit in this book, but he tries so hard not to show it. To keep that lid on (nevermind that it exploded two years ago).

“I’d never have believed this,” Harry said. “The man who taught me to fight dementors—a coward.” Lupin drew his wand so fast that Harry had barely reached for his own; there was a loud bang and he felt himself flying backward as if punched; as he slammed into the kitchen wall and slid to the floor, he glimpsed the tail of Lupin’s cloak disappearing around the door. “Remus, Remus, come back!” Hermione cried, but Lupin did not respond. A moment later they heard the front door slam. “Harry!” wailed Hermione. “How could you?” “It was easy,” said Harry. He stood up; he could feel a lump swelling where his head had hit the wall. He was still so full of anger he was shaking. “Don’t look at me like that!” he snapped at Hermione. “Don’t you start on her!” snarked Ron. “No—no—we mustn’t fight!” said Hermione, launching herself between them.

(DH, Ch11)

He's shaking from anger. His voice is calm and quiet like his usual response for hiding his anger, but he can't fully hide it. His body gives him away becouse he feels so much of it.

Harry was 100% right to call Lupin out, but I think the ruler way he did it was because he's suffering. He's in emotional turmoil, and twisting his words like a knife, in a way he knew would hurt Lupin, made him feel a little better. It let him take some of that anger out. It is a form of lashing out.

Him snapping at Hermione after and being ready to fist fight Ron is an extension of this lashing out. Harry, when at his limit, lashes out in anger becouse it's all he really knows how.

(He needs a better grieving method. He needs a fucking hug and for someone to tell him he's allowed to cry. He needs a good cry. I think it's why he's calmer after going to Godric's Hallow. He cried a little, grieved his parents, truly, for the first time in his life, and it helped him let some of his pain out in a healthier way)

“It’s not a case of what you’ll permit, Minerva McGonagall. You time’s over. It’s us what’s in charge here now, and you’ll back me up or you’ll pay the price.” And he spat in her face. Harry pulled the Cloak off himself, raised his wand, and said, “You shouldn’t have done that.” As Amycus spun around, Harry shouted, “Crucio!” The Death Eater was lifted off his feet. He writhed through the air like a drowning man, thrashing and howling in pain, and then, with a crunch and a shattering of glass, he smashed into the front of a bookcase and crumpled, insensible, to the floor. “I see what Bellatrix meant,” said Harry, the blood thundering through his brain, “you need to really mean it.”

(DH, Ch30)

Still, things just keep getting added onto his plate. How I see Harry's anger is why I don't think the above scene is out of character for him. His anger fueling the curse isn't just about Amycus spiting at McGonagall. It's about how they tortured Neville, Ginny, and Luna. About his year on the run. About Dobby's death. About him being forced into a position he feels he wants ready for and has no idea what to do. This is years of feeling angry and helpless coming to ahead.

Amycus didn't suffer just for that one crime of his. Spitting on McGonagall just happened to be the straw that broke the camel's back.

To Summerise:

Harry isn't really good at managing his anger, or any other emotion really. He bottles it all up. His frustration, fear, grief, anger, helplessness, and pain all go together into Harry's little box of feelings so he can do whatever he needs to do and appear calm and quiet. It's why we see Harry fuming and boiling with rage inside his head while he's externally calm and cold and composed.

This lid he keeps on everything starts breaking as the emotions keep getting bottled up and he keeps not really processing them. So in GoF Harry is teetering on his very impressive threshold and then, after the graveyard, he breaks.

He suffered so much all at once and then was left alone to stew at the Dursleys for a whole month, suffering from nightmares and having no idea how to process any of what he's been through. Of course, he fucking breaks in OotP.

And when Harry breaks, all these emotions he kept down come out as anger. The reason he reacts so dramatically to smaller offenses post-OotP isn't that he's easy to anger, he really isn't. It's just that he has accumulated pain and grief from 14 years of trauma and abuse that are just now being let out in the form of Harry angrily lashing out.

So, I wouldn't say his anger management is amazing, but his problem isn't really the anger itself, it's emotional regulation in general. He needs to learn to deal with his emotions instead of bottling them up. If he does, he probably won't have any issues with anger management and would just sass his way through life.

[sunnydbeam]

I havent had a chance to read it yet but I really appreciate the effort you put in for us english speakers. Learning another language is never easy. Writing in it is even harder!

Its a free story. People need to chill. They dont deserve Biohazard >:I

Also if your blog is anything to go by, your English is really good?? I never knew you werent a native speaker until you said something!

Sending you all the love and support 💕☢️💕☢️💕

Awaw thanks so much, how sweet<3 I'm not sure why some people get like this over a simple character or story... Anons are wild-

Omg do you think my english is THAT good? I had my doubts hahahasdfhsj thanks sm! Have a lil Haz

[acourtofthought]

how did Lucien's perception of human's change (from ACOTAR to ACSF)? how do you think elain's ignoring of the bond challenges lucien?

Lucien made a few negative comments about humans in book 1 but I think this particular line (where he started) shows just how much growth he's had since:

"I suppose you humans are such hateful cowards that you would have wet yourself, curled up, and wanted to die if you'd known beyond a doubt what Andras truly was."

Not long after that comment, after Feyre saves the Suriel, we have him say this:

"Tam told me that your first shot was to save the Suriel's life. Not your own." / "I know far too many High Fae and lesser faeries who wouldn't have seen it that way - or bothered."

In ACOWAR we have this:

"I gathered that much after you took on Dagdan and walked away from it." / "No," Lucien said quietly as I reached for a foothold in the next boulder. "That was all you." / "You had my back - with them, with Ianthe. Thank you."

The above line, and many others, shows the respect he has for Feyre, a human turned fae. Respect he pays to her even after what went down in Spring.

(not to mention the credit he later gives Vassa for believing in her ability to take out the human queens and for calling the Archeron's father a good man).

And in ACOFAS:

"Jurian..." "Thank the Cauldron for him. I never thought I'd say that, but it's true." "He's keeping everything running. I think he'd have been crowned king by now if it wasn't for Vassa."

This is what I absolutely love about Lucien's character. He can hold strong opinions as he once did about humans, how they're cowards and full of hate, yet it does not take much for him to accept that he was wrong. To see a human prove that she's not a coward and that then changes his entire outlook on other humans. Lucien's interactions with Feyre led him to seeing the bravery in other humans, led to him wanting to help the humans rebuild after the war and to sort out their politics, to him befriending humans. Not only does that show how good he actually is, his willingness to learn from his mistakes, but I think Lucien getting further in touch with his own humanity by choosing to interact with them and learning their ways can only benefit him when it comes to his future with Elain. She was the most attached to her humanity and I think it's important that her endgame person understand that side of her. No matter how fae Elain becomes, I think there will be human things that will remain a forever part of her and I think it's very purposeful that Sarah set Lucien up to be the one to really get it.

As far as Elain ignoring the bond and how that challenges Lucien, I think it's a lesson for him. Jesminda chased him. He's had no problems finding female companionship since her death. Reformed rakes don't typically fall for the female who made things easy, otherwise she's just one of the many. But the one who acted indifferent to him? The one who he had to earn his way into her life rather than winning it because of his good looks and charm? The one who he had to prove he was willing to wait her out for as long as it takes? That is good for Lucien.

I think Lucien is humble overall. He's not overly cocky, he doesn't act like he's more powerful than anyone and he's willing to learn from and apologize for his mistakes. However, he doesn't seem to have ever needed to prove his desire for someone. Again, he's not arrogant regarding his looks / his charm, but he's also had it pretty easy. Yes, Jesminda's death was tragic but finding his way into their relationship doesn't seem to have been all that difficult for him.

The way it's been written, Elain is the first female who is giving him a run for his money and I don't think that's a bad thing for his character. I look forward to Lucien having to try to win the girl, to see what he's capable of when he needs to work for love.

[mahs-dumpster]

"I woke up as the tragic heroine and switched the male lead" or somthing.

a/n: this is a very silly idea I had while rereading The First Night With The Duke, and a few other webtoon/manhwas with the premise of the female lead reincarnating in a novel they've read; anyways! I ran into a lot of problems with this but hopefully it's ok enough cw: oc x canon (Daisy, here referred to as "Eléa" x Ruggie) words: around 2k tagging @4necdote bc i told her about it

A very complicated and botherline toxic relationship between two characters was not really Eléa’s type of story. No, she preferred those stories where a tragic yet likeable character stayed true to herself, and her kindness and charm managed to sweep the male lead off his feet, resulting in a beautiful wedding in the end. This was her kind of story, and one she longed for would happen to her in real life.

…Unfortunately, life had many surprises. One of them being when you wake up as the heroine of the first type of story, the one that was not really Eléa’s cup of tea.

“My dear, are you enjoying your birthday ball?” Her ‘father’ asked, and Daisy forced a smile. She was still trying to get used to the idea of being the daughter of a count.

“Yes. Thank you, you really didn't need to, father.” 

“Nonsense, only the best for my youngest.” He gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head, and Eléa felt how much he loved his daughter… if only he knew she wasn't really his daughter though… “if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask, alright? And be polite to the guests.”

“Of course.”

And just like that he left, and Eléa was left alone. Right. She wasn't Eléa Carbonneau, daughter of Jacques and Amélie Carbonneau, she was Daisy Trein, youngest daughter of count Mozus Trein.

She wouldn't hate the idea of being the heroine of a novel if said novel didn't have a horrible ending in store for her. She knew what was waiting for her: a marriage with a possessive and cruel duke. Just the idea of it made her heart ache, yet, she didn't know what to do… she wanted to change her future, but how? 

Alright, Eléa, think! How did Daisy and duke Leona meet in the novel again? The girl put a hand on her chin, thinking hard on the subject to try and recollect the memory. It had been a while since she had read the novel, but she needed to try… was it… a ball?

A birthday ball!

…Like the one she was in right now.

Eléa held her head in her hands, cursing herself for forgetting such a crucial detail. It was during Daisy’s birthday party, or rather, it was her birthday party!! The duke would show up at any moment now… she needed to do something…

As Eléa looked around the ball, trying to see if the duke had shown up yet or not, she didn't see him anywhere, so she hoped he was not there yet. The blonde got up from her table and walked around the ballroom, looking for a way to escape and go to a quieter place. If the count asked her what happened she’d just tell him she felt sick, hopefully that’d be enough to explain herself… 

The ballroom, unfortunately, was very crowded, which made moving around rather difficult. She kept whispering ‘excuse me’ and ‘my apologies’ as she walked around, hoping people would let her through, but soon, Eléa tripped, and she closed her eyes, getting ready for the impact with the floor.

Except it never came. Rather, she felt soft arms hold her in place, a little ‘whoa, there!’ was heard during the process, and the girl felt gracious that someone had been kind enough to get her before she fell.

“I’m really sorry, thank you for–” Eléa stopped, her eyes widening at the face in front of her.

“You ok, miss?” The man tilted his head to the side, his expression curious to see if she was ok.

Big hyena ears, dirty blond hair, droopy, tired and greyish blue eyes. A thin body and an average height, result of the little money he had to buy food and keep himself nourished. Freckles spread all over his face, as well as a small hyena tail that wagged at the mention of donuts and money.

“Ah, I-I’m alright!” The girl quickly distanced herself from him, her face as red as an apple and her heart beating a mile per second. It was him, her favorite character in the whole novel, as well as the only reason she kept reading the story in the first place: Ruggie Bucchi. “I’m sorry to have stumbled into you. I hope I didn't hurt you…”

“It’d take more than that to hurt me.” He gave her a smile, and Eléa recognized its mischievous nature right away. She chuckled at his remark, making Ruggie surprised. Normally nobles rolled their eyes at his words due to his status. “Sorry to be in your way, my lady.” 

“Oh, no, not at all! You saved me right there, so thank you.” the man blinked a few times, utterly confused, but Eléa didn't pay any mind, rather, she just smiled happily at him, happy to have met her favorite character. 

“Well, uhm… Happy birthday, madam.” Eléa’s smile grew. Ruggie knew it was her birthday? Well– Daisy’s birthday… but still! He was wishing her a happy birthday! Ah, she felt on cloud nine at that moment. “Has the duke talked to you already? If not I could–”

“The duke?”

“Yes, I’m the duke's servant. If he hasn't spoke to you yet, and if you wish, I’d certainly ask for–”

“No!!” Eléa interrupted, her thoughts going crazy. No, no, no… how could she forget such a crucial detail? Ruggie was the duke’s servant, that's why he showed up so often in the book! If he was here then that means…

Eléa looked around, and soon, she saw a man exactly like the descriptions of the novel: dark skin, brown hair, green eyes, as well as a lion’s ears and tail… that was definitely Leona Kingscholar. 

She needed to run, and fast.

“A-actually, I don't feel so good, would you help me out of the ballroom?”

“Shouldn't we speak to your–”

“Thank you so much, mister, you're so thoughtful!” With that, she basically dragged the man with her out of the ballroom. She managed to reach the hallway and into Trein’s drawing room, closing the door behind her.

Ok! This way, there was absolutely no way the duke would see her! Take that, stupid novel! 

“Miss–” Ruggie tried, making Eléa jump. Oh. She had brought Ruggie with her, right… “I kind of have a job to do in attending the duke. If he figures out I'm missing he'll be angry.” As she looked at him, she noticed his eyebrows furrowing, he was starting to get annoyed with her and it was clear. Argh, Eléa couldn't handle having her favorite be angry with her…

“I'm sorry, mister, I… I guess I didn't want to be alone?” She tried, but Ruggie lifted an eyebrow at that, so Eléa sighed. Sitting on the floor in front of the door. “My apologies, I just… I panicked. I didn't mean to bother you, I swear but… if the duke saw me…”

“Trust me, the duke wouldn't do more than a simple ‘happy birthday’. He's a rather simple guy, really.” Ruggie said as he sat down next to her and Eléa watched as his demeanor became less formal. Ruggie wasn't the type to be like this in front of nobles, so why…? “... please don't tell him I said that.”

“Don't worry, I won't meet him altogether if I can help it.” The girl giggled, earning a smile from the beastman.

“It's rather strange though. Why are you avoiding him? Have the rumors finally been able to scare away the noblewomen who wanted to be the nest duchess?” Ruggie rested his head on his hand, which was against his ankle. Eléa shook her head.

“kind of, but… not quite. It's… complicated.” How to explain to your favorite character his whole life is a novel and she's fated to a tragic marriage with the duke? “I guess you can say I'm scared of him…?”

“Why do you sound unsure of that?” Ruggie snickered, and Eléa’s chest felt warm. She had tried to think of how his laugh would sound like in real life, but finally being able to hear it? It made her heart beat faster and faster.

“A-and you? You seem… rather comfortable around me. N-not that I'm complaining, of course not!”

Ruggie seemed to think about her question. Why was he so comfortable around her, anyway? He usually kept his walls up when it came to nobles, you never knew how they’d act…

“I'm not sure.” He confessed, still looking at the ceiling for an answer, but soon he looked at her, brown eyes met blue and he smirked. “You seem more normal than most nobles I’ve met.”

“Thank you…?”

“It's a compliment, trust me.” With that, Eléa chuckled, a hand on her mouth trying to hold it in, and Ruggie smiled at that. Then, the beastman got up, cleaning himself and offering a hand to the young girl. “Come on, miss. You can't hide here forever, and certainly not alone with a guy like me.”

“What do you mean?” She grabbed his hand, and he helped her up, but she lost her balance during the process, making him have to catch her once again in his arms. Eléa lifted her head, and blushed at how close they were, but Ruggie didn't seem to notice, nor mind, as he made sure to help her keep her balance.

“I shouldn't have to spell it out for you. You're a noble and I'm… well-” Eléa watched as he looked at her with a smile. “I’m just a servant.”

He was much more than that to her… but she couldn't say it, for all Ruggie knew, they’ve just met, if she said something like that, he’d be weirded out for sure…

Eléa distanced herself, and Ruggie’s hands finally left her waist and hand, making her instantly miss his touch, but there was nothing she could do about that. 

“You're right, I suppose… I'm sorry. I hope I haven't made you uncomfortable in any way.”

“Not at all, I've dealt with weirder people before. You're cool, miss Daisy.” 

“You know my name?” Her belly filled with butterflies. It wasn't really her name, but close enough, right? She fidget with her fingers as she gathered up courage. “Well… that's not really fair, is it? What's your name, mister?”

“It's barely worth mentioning, trust me.” He laughed it off, walking towards the door, and Eléa felt her heart ache. Why was he closing himself off now? Did her mention of how informal he was being made him self conscious? “So, how about we go?”

Eléa stared at him, and he stopped in his tracks, a bit awkward with her gaze. If she left right now, she'd probably never see him again… not only that, it’d be a matter of time before the duke met her… if only there was a way to–

The blonde’s eyes grew wide, an idea forming in her head. Of course… it was so obvious, why didn't she think of that before?

“Mister, I have a proposal for you.” She walked towards him, stopping a right in front of him, and Ruggie blinked in surprise.

“A proposal…? I don't think I'd be able to help wi–”

“Please, I know it might be a strange request, but please, be my husband!” With that, Eléa bowed, half because she wanted to show how desperate she was, and half because she needed to hide how red her face was. 

Meanwhile, Ruggie’s eyes widened and his cheeks went pink. What in the– what was up with her? Asking a complete stranger in marriage? Was she insane? Forget about all his thoughts about her being different and intriguing, she was nuts.

“Wh– wait, miss Daisy, I don't–”

“Marriage? You're asking someone in marriage?” Both of them looked at the door, where the count stood in shook, his cat, Mozus, at hand. He seemed to be coming to the drawing room to relax, but he came at the worst possible moment, finding his youngest daughter ask for a man of inferior birth to marry her. “Daisy. Explain what’s going on right this instance, and you young man-” he glared at the beastman who flinched at his sight. “-explain your intentions with my daughter. Now.”

Ruggie glared at Eléa from the corner of his eyes and the girl looked at him apologetically. Really… this couldn’t get any worse, could it?

[jk-kiwi]

Matchmaker

Matchmaker Mini series (?) - Part 1 Characters - BFF/JK x business owner Y/N (Woman)

Genre - romance, drama, angst, unreciprocated feelings, fluff (?), THIS is fiction!

Summary - Looking for love? Matchmaker could be the answer. But in a game of love, sometimes the hardest person to win over is the one closest to you. Will you be able to handle the love you've always dreamed of…or will the truth tear everything you’ve ever built apart? Matchmaker—where love meets destiny, and the real challenge begins when you least expect it.

Warnings - dating app shenanigans, jealousy, JK is going with other girls (he’s not dating though), a little bit of stalker behaviour, making a fake profile.

Author’s note - This is more of a pilot episode!!! I plan on making this a mini series with maybe 3is chapters if people are interested. I'm down for any ideas. PLEASE READ!

Word count - 2.6k

—-------------------------------------------------------------

“Yet another successful year for such an inspiring businesswoman! Miss Y/L/N, how do you feel knowing your app Matchmaker has topped the charts for yet another year? 

The enthusiasm was obvious in the reporter’s voice, her eyes sparkling with glam and eager while waiting for your response. You smile a little, leaning closer to the mic in front. “It’s an honor, truly! I’m happy my project helped so many find true love.” you reply smoothly, the people in front of you cheering loudly at your humble response. “You must be the ultimate romantic!” the reporter squeaks in joy “With so much success matchmaking others, how about your own love story? Is there a special someone in your life?” she asks curiously, making you freeze slightly. 

You clear your throat, smiling shyly. “Let’s just say I’ve been a little busy helping others achieve true love, it’s been hard to focus on my own.” The crown chuckles at your response while you avert your gaze at the watch on your hand, trying to come up with a solution to change the topic, and fast. “I don’t have much time left, are there any other questions regarding my application?” The lady was caught off guard at how bold and confident you were in changing the topic, but she managed to gain composure way too quickly for your own liking. 

“What more can we say, your app has a 95% success rate, you’ve truly made something extraordinary! What’s next for Matchmaker? Any exciting updates we can look forward to?”

You nod, your heel impatiently clicking on the floor. “Absolutely! We’re working on a new feature that incorporates real-time features to help dating take a much smoother turn! Please stay tuned for the updates!” You clasp your hands together smiling brightly. The reporter says the ending phrases, thanking you and everyone around while the cameras flash brightly towards you. With a final wave you step out of the public eye and into the backstage of the place, a sigh of relief leaving your lips and the buzz of a phone catching your attention.

_______________

Mr. JK - Saw the interview, you did great!

_______________

You smile seeing his message pop up, so he’s watched it after all. You lean against the wall, fingers hovering over the screen for a second before typing a response. _______________

Mr. JK - Saw the interview, you did great!

Y/N - You said you would not watch it! What a liar! 

Mr. JK - How can I not watch my favorite girl? _______________

His instant response makes your fingers freeze, leaving him on seen before closing your screen. A warm feeling starts spreading through you, making your heart race. His favorite girl? That’s not possible. You take a deep breath, unsure whether to respond or wait for him to send a next message. “Is he joking?” you ask yourself seeing he does not come with a reply. You sigh after 5 minutes of painful wait, wondering if Jungkook has that cocky grin on his face knowing he’s put you on the spot, if he even knows in the first place. The boy is clueless. Gathering the left over equipment and your bag, you make your way out of the building, one bodyguard on either side. Coming closer to the door you could hear the cheers and laughter of fans, their joy bursting in loud screams when you come out.You wave lightly, bowing down while trying to avoid questions, fame was not what you had in plan for your life, but you tried to enjoy it. 

Matchmaker. 

This was what brought you up to where you were right now. The app that transformed your career and also the lives of thousands of people, a success you’ve never imagined.

The project had been your passion, your dream. And it all started from a foolish mistake. 

You fell in love with your best friend.

That’s how it started, from the foolish guy you’ve been in love since 3rd grade.  But it wasn’t just about him. It was also about the stupid fact that the guy did not believe in love.

So you made matchmaker as a way to prove that love does not need to be over complicated when you meet the right person. 

And there you were now, your app has been number one on the dating charts for 5 years now, you’ve matched over 2 million people, yet you were still caught up on the web of being single, and your best friend was still the stupid fool who did not believe in love. In conclusion, the progress you made, despite being high on the app, was zero in your life.

—------------------

Pouring yourself a glass of wine you sit down on your sofa, the city lights from the lively night view being almost the only thing illuminating your living room.

You sink down between the plush pillows, grabbing the remote in your hand, switching through channels just to see you over and over. Old interviews, new interviews, media appearances you didn’t really remember making, but there you were, smiling brightly, speaking confidently. Each clip showing the polished, successful version of yourself that the world knows.

You can’t help but wonder, as your face flickers across the screen, “Is this who I really am?”. But the truth is, no matter how much success you have, it’s never enough when the one thing you truly want is something you can’t have. “Hey! There she is!” you jump in surprise, the red liquid spilling slightly on your nightgown. He stands in the doorway, a playful grin on his face. “What are you doing here?” you ask, setting your glass down, looking at how the wine spreads quickly, like fire, on your satin pajamas. Jungkook steps forward, unhinged at your reaction. His arms carrying the usual big bouquet of flowers he likes to gift you after a good appearance, a bottle of champagne in his other hand. “Came to celebrate another success of my girl!” Your nose scrunches up at the hearing of his praises, though, you should be used by now. “I told you not to call me that.” you mutter grabbing the flowers out of his hands. The boy chuckles before opening the bottle with a loud pop, rushing into your kitchen to grab glasses. “And there you go. For the great success of the best woman ever to exist, my best friend, Y/L/N Y/N, and for the phenomenon she’s created into the world of dating.” glasses clink together and you take a quick sip of the champagne. He drains the glass in one go, leaning on your couch with a satisfied face, making you chuckle and shake your head. Typical Jungkook. "You should savor it, not just gulp it down like that. It's good champagne." you tease him and he shrugs. “Some things should just be enjoyed all at once.” he replies, eyes staring at you as he props his arm up behind his head, making himself comfortable.

You roll your eyes, plopping next to him, his hand quickly reaches down to drag your gown a little lower. “Don’t show yourself like that.” His tone was unexpectedly serious. You scoff, folding your arms, letting silence break between you two. “So…what now?” you shift a little to face the man. “Should I tell you about my day? Are you up for a little rant?” Jungkook’s gaze softens slightly, his hand tracing patterns on your covered thigh, you just hum, eyes fixated on the tv. “Do you remember Rebecca?” 

“The girl you told me about, your coworker?” you remember her, how can you forget. 

Jungkook came in one day ranting to you how his new colleague has a crush on him. You sulked the whole day, how can you not remember. “Yes, her. We went out today.”

You swallow harshly, muscle tensing a little. “So, how was it?” your tone was cold, a flicker of jealousy catching you off guard so you try to play it cool. “Did you two have fun?” “Hmm, it was fine.” the man replies, shrugging it off as if it’s no big deal.

“Just fine?” you push. “I mean, she’s nice and all, and her body is uhhh, but I think she’s trying a little too hard to impress me.  You turn to face him more, the bitterness growing inside of you. “She could be fun for a few nights, I guess.” he adds with a casual voice. You scoff raising from your seat abruptly, not willing to take his shit any longer. Sure, Jungkook was a hot and funny guy, you knew he was not exactly a saint, man did not believe in love, not sex. But you also knew that his actions always hurt you in the end. He was a good friend, always there for you, helping with problems while dealing with his own, and you’ve been there for him countless times, especially since you were more financially stable and he had a lousy part time job that you always nagged him about. Even so, his boldness and the way he tells you everything that’s going on in his life so casually, bothered you a little. Safe to say, you were jealous, very jealous. 

He would come at times, ranting to you about all types of chicks he’s seen, telling you how his dates went on, or how many times they hooked up at his place, just to unknowingly hurt you in the end AND to never see them again since “they had flaws”. 

And that’s what stung the most. He’d get close to these girls, share himself with them only to pull away when things got a little serious, since love is just a “myth” in his stuck up, ideal head. It was frustrating, and it made you push away from him many times. “Are you upset?” he follows you around while you grab the glasses and clean around. You stop for a moment just to sigh, already feeling bad regarding the attitude you were giving him. “No, I’m fine,” you reply softly “Just really tired.”

His footsteps come closer, his arms wrapping around you from behind while you do the dishes. “If you're tired, you should rest. The coolest business woman I know will have another revolutionary day tomorrow.” You set the sponge down laughing at his nonsense. He lets go of you as you turn to face him, his smile big and genuine. “I should leave too, I have so much work tomorrow.” he groans, resting his head on your shoulder. “Go home and get some rest. You’ve got a busy day ahead too.” your words were soft, hands dragging through his silky black hair. He steps back after a while, but not without giving you an affectionate look. You watch him take his jacket before leaving, the warmth of his presence still lingering on your body. Your fingers still lightly brush your shoulder where his head had rested, smiling to yourself like an idiot before coming back to the cruel reality that you will never have this man. Shaking your head you take on, you lied to him. How can you go to sleep when you have so much to work on your plate, countless nights of making sure people love comes true? 

Entering your home office you set yourself in front of the big screen, the ironic motto “love has no time limit” stuck up on your wallpaper. 

You open your emails, reading through all the praises and positive reviews, as well as tips on how to improve your app and some other comments when something catches your eye. Or perhaps, someone? It was right there, in the new entry registration inbox, a list of thousands of mails, but one that caught your gaze so fast. “mr.jungkook.jeon@mail.com”. You pause, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as your heart skips a beat. You know this mail, how can you not? It’s the one you did for him 12 years ago, back when you were 15. You bite your lip, hesitating for a moment before clicking on it. He’s made an account.

Your best friend, the guy you’ve crushed on for as long as you remember, made an account on your dating app. Why?

Your heart races as you stare at the screen, what should you do? A rush of emotions burn within you when you start scrolling through his profile. It was a new account, freshly made, 5 days ago.

His picture is the one you took back when you were on vacation, at a ski resort, the time he taught you how to snowboard, the next few ones being the ones from the time you were on a cruise in Caraibe. “Looking for someone who believes love isn’t a myth, try change my mind.” It catches your eye, his bio. Age, name, what he works and one stupid quote you can’t quite pick on.

You stare at his profile for about an hour now, not even realising how much of a stalker you are. You lean on your chair, wondering about what to do before a devious thought crosses your mind. “I can’t.” you firmly say to yourself, but your hand was already reaching for your phone. “I shouldn’t…” you bite your lip while installing the app on your phone, opening it just to be met with the criteria of making an account. It’s an overwhelming feeling, what are you about to do could change everything. Closing your eyes for a second you enter your mail and password. A new section pops up, the customisation of your new profile. 

For a moment, you sit there frozen, staring at the screen in disbelief. This is it. You’ve just created a profile on your own app, just to interact with Jungkook without him knowing. “This is insane, you are insane.” but you can’t help the grin that grows on your face. You enter your bio, scroll through some pictures that could not give you away, deciding on some random vacation pics instead of yourself, before finishing your profile with the quote who characterises you the best “Hopeless romantic”

You pause and read it over a few times, wondering if it’s good enough to pass and after a final check “It’s done.”, you press save and the notification on your computer immediately goes up, telling you that, well, You, just registered on Matchmaker. Glancing at your phone and then back at the screen of your pc, worry creeps in while searching for Jungkook’s profile. It felt wrong, but the good type of wrong. With a shaky breath you stare at his profile, the big button of “swipe right” right in front of you. You take a big breath and without thinking, your thumb presses the button making you close your eyes in disbelief of what you’ve done. The screen blinks for a second, the quietness settling around, the only thing that could be heard would probably be the thumping of your heart. 

Then, the screen lights up again, the iconic butterfly interface you made for your app showing up with a message. 

“It’s a MATCH!”

For a second you don’t move, taking in the fact that you just matched up with your best friend under an unknown identity.

“What have I done?” You think again, but there’s no going back now. So, you sit there, eyes wide, staring at the screen, a single notification appearing way too soon.

_______________________

Jeon JK - Lia huh? What makes you be such a hopeless romantic?

_______________________

As you read the message, your breath catches in your throat, and with a soft laugh to yourself you close your eyes, the silence engulfing you being only the tip of the iceberg. “Mr. Jeon, let the game of love begin.”

And with this, your little game of making your best friend fall in love with you has begun. But are you really ready for what’s about to come next?

[ethereal-blossom]

"It's an exchange of thoughts, and I'm always up for it" 🥹🥹 unrelated but people who make you feel safe talking about your interests are the BEST people.

I never thought about it as a kid but... Rumpelstilskin filling up an entire room with gold in exchange for a necklace and then a ring is crazyyy. If anything he was doing her a favor the first two nights and then just went a tiny bit overboard the third night to make up for it🙄

I think that as a child, it's so easy to sort antagonists in the evil box because we are taught the action is wrong, but we are either too young to understand the reason matters too or haven't looked at the reason for why these people did such an evil thing. Like you said, quite some of these villains are not doing this simply because they are evil. As a child, you know that it's bad to curse an entire kingdom and an innocent baby but... isn't it mean girl behavior to invite the entire class except for one person? Let alone an entire kingdom. Hurt people hurt people. Yet, we are only judging the 13th fairy. So yes, that's a great message to get out of it!

I think that's so fun about growing up and revisiting these fairytales because then you learn it are not only entertaining stories wherein characters are sorted in white and black, but that there is a message in everything and that we can see it from multiple angles.

So... My point is... Perhaps we are looking too hard for an answer who Vivi is. Maybe it's very simple. Maybe it's not even a villain... but some kind of animal or... fruit, like an apple.

Oh, you're so right! My mind is so focused on finding an obvious, human villain. It's funny because I don't think I ever saw the mirror as a villain and I think exactly for the reason you defended him.

BUT LMAO if someone ever needs inspiration for an OC the poisonous apple of Snow White is still available🤣Joining the Snow White team! It kind of feels similiar to the briar now that I think of it🤔 So it could definitely work! I wish we could see Victor's face when we tell him we stopped looking into human villains like no, you're definitely either have been confused with a poisonous apple or a tower to lock up a girl in. I bet we'd get that adorable taken aback puppy face! Your honor is this the face of a killer? No, no it's not.

... Okay, but I really like the idea of Rapunzel now that I think about it. Because Elbert is the most beautiful character in the Ikevil series, much like Snow White. Despite him being just as greedy as the evil queen, he still has the kindness and gentleness you'd rather connect to Snow White. Plus, the part in his route that forces him in the Snow White position. But sometimes I randomly think that wow how long does Victor's hair need to be to fall over the ass of a man who is 183,5 cm tall? And he deals with loneliness, much like Rapunzel must experience loneliness in her tower. While Victor loves freedom and values it above anything else, he doesn't seem that free regardless of him claiming otherwise. But at the same time, he's kind of the reason why Kate is forced to stay at Crown cause that was his solution. And I just looked it up and the story was written by the Brother's Grimm in 1812 but Wikipedia is also saying "The first written record of a story that may be recognized as Rapunzel is Giambattista Basile's Petrosinella, translating to parsley, which was published in Naples in the local dialect of 1634 in a collection entitled Lo cunto de li cunti (The Tale of Tales)."

But then again I have no idea how to incorporate death into this so screw you Victor you'll just be Jafar's parrot😗✌️

I'm ally's girl after all

Is this a good time to mention that Alfons's Kate and you talk so much alike for me that I'll be reading his route and be like... Where is Shay's paycheck cause she must have worked on this for Kate to sound so much like her.

STOP for the longest time I thought that scorpion was a lobster because that'd fit the little mermaid theory😭 My theory so far is that the scorpion is meant to symbolize his death theme!

Victor please come quick the girls are waiting for your route :')

Victor theories. His curse.

Just because I'm already mentally ready to Victor's route, and it's still sooooo long before it'll be released… to brighten up the wait, I decided to think about this gorgeous man. At least while Ally isn't watching. First of all… I like Vivi right from the prologue. He wasn't my the most favorite (and still he's just the second), but I always was interested in him. Not as a leader of Crown, father (or rather say mother) figure of the boys or Queen's aid, but just a person. Then I think about Vivi, about the fairy tale he could be from… the feeling that "I should know this", "it's somewhere very close", "I can catch this thought at any moment", doesn't leave me. But for some reason I cannot figure out. But one line from Dark IF event somehow ignited me, and I finally found something to cling to. I'm not sure if my ideas will be confirmed in his route, but it doesn't matter. I'm doing it JUST FOR FUN…

In his story from the "Dark IF. part 2" event which @.reccyls beautifully translated, was a line that he was from a very old fairy tale.

I looked into the Wiki and find this part.

A little bit about the fairy tales from this list:

Jack and the Beanstalk. We've probably all heard at least a little bit about this story. The guy grew a huge beanstalk and climbed up to the clouds where the giants live. He stole from them and eventually killed the giant. Do you really need to explain who I see as the villain here? But… I don't see Vivi in this story at all.

 Beauty and the Beast. Another story we've all heard about. The prince was proud and rude, and some fairy or witch (I don't remember, it doesn't matter) turned him into a beast. And the only way to become a human again is if beautiful (why beautiful?) woman fall in love with him, despite his appearance. The villain is obvious but… I kind of understand her and don't even blame. There are several versions of this tale. There is even one in which the witch who turned the prince into a monster was his aunt, who wanted to marry him. Damn it, these fairy tales are no different from the Greek myths. Cybird used this concept to create a full-size game. I doubt they will use it again.

Deal with the Devil. In my opinion, this is a less common story. Simply put, this is the legend of Faust, who sold his soul to the devil for endless knowledge. But different versions have different main characters and the reasons why they sold their souls. But the result is always the same: the dark creature literally came for what belongs to him, and was deceived. Again… I'm not sure who the villain is here, and… this story could actually work.

Rumpelstiltskin. Some very strange man boasted that his daughter could make gold out of straw, and… to help the poor girl do as her daddy claimed, a little man came and helped in exchange for her firstborn. I've never understood why do they even need children? Do they have problems with childbirth? Or… No, there's nothing to eat… Why are they needed them? Note that I'm not even considering the possibility of making the protagonist suffer. There must be something for the villains. I see only inconveniences. So in order to keep the child, they need to guess his name. The villain was deceived again. In the milder version, he runs away, in the bloody version, he kills himself. I really feel sorry for the guy. Another good option.

 Swan maiden. It's harder to explain. This is not a fairy tale, but a concept involving a character who can transform from a swan into a human and back again. We already know about "Swan Lake", which is actually based on this concept. There is a story about guy who marry a swan lady and hid her skin so that she cannot transform. And there was also a male version, which for some reason I remember very well. Some witch who turned (I think) 7 brothers into swans and their younger sister needed to sew them nettle shirts. Assemble it, make threads from it and sew clothes. Probably, the concept of creating clothes impressed me so much when I was a child that I still remember it. But… We already have swan boys, so I doubt Victor is from the same story.

So… I've stopped on two options.

Deal with the Devil

At the "Death or Love" event (yes, I couldn't wait a month, I read it again), his thought led me to think that it might be related.

Maybe it's just a figure of speech, but for me it sounds like he sold his soul. But in the fairy tale, the one who sold his soul was the main character, not the villain. Even though he tricked the dark creature in the end, he's still kind of a good guy… Oh, those double standards. As much as I would like to consider this option, I'm more inclined to the other one.

Rumpelstiltskin

Let's take a look at Victor himself

The first thing I noticed right away (obviously after his hairs) was how many layers he had. I see three coats, and the value of the top one is the most questionable. It is shorter than the other two, with very wide sleeves and some metal fragments on one side and nothing to connect them with on the other. A really strange coat. Probably just for show. Where else would he hide his pigeons?

So… layered clothes. Not only the coat, but his entire image consists of many layers. A shirt, a vest, one of the coats looks like another vest, and three coats. Even his shoes seem to consist of several layers. The obvious one is the horizontal detail on the back of the leg and the triangle on the front side. But the shoe design looks more complicated than necessary.

I don't think I need to explain what thoughts came to my mind because of this. He is an extremely complex person. And finding the real one behind so many layers is probably extremely difficult.

When he takes off his jacket, only a plain black shirt remains. And he looks even more dashing in it. My personal biased opinion.

Another detail that attracted attention is the spikelet motif. A decorative detail of the second coat, the lapel of the coat. The pattern on the lapel of the same second coat somewhat resembles an ear of wheat, and on the third, presumably, a metal pattern. Not to mention his shoulder straps, which really look like wheat ones. Perhaps this impression is created because of the color though.

So his outfit screams of gold (color) and spikelets (motif). And the fact that we don't actually know his real name suggests that he might actually be a Rumpelstiltskin.

Besides, I remembered… the adaptation… this fairy tale, or rather, many fairy tales. Once apon the time (2011-2018). There was the character Mr. Gold. I can't say he's handsome, but he's incredibly charming and funny. I've been watching this series for probably only 2 or 3 seasons, so I don't know if he was later or not. So. He was Rumplestiltskin. I can describe him as a very lonely man whom everyone hates, who has very talented hands (craft) and who is literally fixated on one person. Belle. Damn, why can't they come up with another name? And it pretty much matches Victor's description.

I had another sudden thought… at some event, someone called Vivi the "god of death". And that immediately made me think of Greek mythology. Thanatos.

This article contain too many symbols we already seen. The butterfly and the poppies are from Elbert's Route. And in this legend Thanatos has a twin brother Hypnos (God of Dreams). And who else can be called a hypnotist, if not Alfons? They're not related, right? This can't be!!!

And to complicate things even more, a phrase from the same Dark if event, that makes me doubt everything I found (translated by @.reccyls):

So… It could be a Deal with the devil, with a female protagonist... But the words "over and over again" indicated the reiteration of the same mistake. But if she has already sold her soul how could she repeat that? Groundhog Day? Reincarnation? But I… don't remember anything related to this concept… And "the path that leads to destruction?". In which fairy tale does the main character eventually die for good? I don't know… And again… this feeling… I'm so close, but I still can't reach it.

And at last… The developers could use something completely unrelated to fairy tales. For example, an old lullaby or a creepy story that is told to children to make them docile…

These are just my thoughts, and they most likely have nothing to do with Vivi's real curse. But I extremely enjoy to build a chain of assumptions, you never know what it might lead to...

The design of the spikelet on the dividers is from Designed by Freepik

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[medi-bee]

i am putting your little guys in my mental microwave @spotsupstuff

[egophiliac]

I have SO many thoughts about everything and they are in no kind of order yet, so here's just some quick little bits in the meantime!

I am not normal about any of these characters!

[undead-moth]

I know I've been on about this for a while now and I'm being a hater but you're telling me SydCarmy was "always meant to be platonic" even though there are two seasons of writing making use of tried-and-true explicitly romantic tropes, themes and writing signals, and SydLuca is going to be romantic because...he was nice to her on screen for a few minutes?

I don't even care if people ship SydLuca, or if they just prefer it, but you can't honestly tell me that you believe Carmy was always meant to be a friend but Luca is an obvious love interest.

Just because Syd and Carmy haven't kissed or confessed their love to each other doesn't mean that isn't very obviously the direction this show is going. The Bear has already shown you who is endgame. It has shown you every episode of the show so far.

Honestly I really don't think The Bear fanbase understands this show or cares about these characters or the story being told here, which is unfortunate because this show is shockingly well-written in comparison to most shows right now, and we should be so grateful for it but all we're doing is complaining that the writers led us on by not making a ship canon fast enough. It's just. Sad.

[itsdefinitely]

💀😡

starting off strong!

💀 least favorite lord in black and why 😡 least favorite character from npmd and why

based off design... pokey. he is so swagless please i need to give him cool pants please please why doesn't he have shiny pants and a feather boa he deserves one give him heels you cowards

as for npmd (characters who have a speaking role): brenda. hearing her talk the first time made my soul float out of my body. i didn't recognize it as bryce; i thought they genuinely got a teenager to be brenda. it just took me off guard how real she was. compared to everyone else matching their stereotype, brenda acts like. a regular teenager

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

nah but like

they're "seiros lapdogs" because they're fighting back against the people who attacked them completely unprovoked??? also because it so happens that thales is at garreg mach so they have to go there to reclaim the area to defeat him???

i just hate this because it's just perpetuating things about faerghus and its people that just aren't true. it frames it like they jumped into the war willingly for the church and that they're only here for the church. like nah buddy, it's not faerghus' fault you're out here fighting to protect thales and ludwig.

it also is batshit to me how he and leopold are fighting to stop faerghus from advancing but like... they know what's happening to the empire and that edelgard isn't even calling the shots anymore, yet they still stupidly fight for the very person who is literally razing their country and burning their villages. they know the empire is in shambles and that the kingdom isn't targeting them and is specifically aiming for gm to get it back from who? thales; who, mind, at this point is in his real form and not posing as arundel anymore. everything is laid out plainly, but they still act like faerghus is the bad guy.

but yeah, okay. faerghus BaD for defending themselves, fighting back, finding out who is behind all the puppeteering and heading to take him out. sure, that makes them seiros lapdogs. like what are you, an agarthan mouthpiece??? may as well be like yeah you go retreat and leave you agarthan lapdog. if they don't realize it's Someone Else in charge of course, then ludwig lapdog works fine too.

and it sucks because other than this shit, i like waldemar just fine as a character. it's just like, it feels like they forced someone to have to stick in that final faerghus BaD insult before the grand finale so they just randomly picked someone to remind us that faerghus is Always Wrong as long as they continue to fight back and prevent being attacked in the future.

waldemar here is just basically ag caspar. fighting and risking his life for thales, who is destroying the empire and basically holding the emperor hostage. if the writing here had any decent plot points, they would've all stopped and have been like hey wait, shouldn't we be fighting to get our emperor back? why are we stopping these guys from killing the people who are destroying this country?

and like, they literally went from siding with ludwig during the insurrection to siding with edelgard in this timeline to... jumping immediately back to ludwig as soon as he was at the top of the food chain (thales notwithstanding). as soon as the person in charge changes, they jump ship immediately; then of course get mad that the people they attacked are coming after them... and fighting them as they defend the very people who are letting adrestia become a literal, physical ruin.

it really just tells me that these people don't care about adrestia itself, but status, power and wealth. they don't care about the country itself as long as they're doing well. that's like, the only thing i can get from still fighting with/for ludwig/thales. the fact that they just fight for ludwig again as soon as edelgard is out of commission is also pretty gross to me. they have no loyalty at all.

and it's like, i want to like waldermar and leopold, but they come across as just selfish, entitled and only there for their own asses to be covered. and i get that - that is a realistic take on politicians, but the fact that the game regularly loops back around to faerghus BaD despite that and despite portraying these people as opportunistically selfish is like... what are they even trying to write??

[pepprs]

acnl is a superior game to acnh in almost every way except the graphics. it’s actually making me mad

[leatherbookmark]

all this time i've been covering my ears going LALALALALA pretending that ~virtual idols~ don't exist and this is what you do to me? and hongjoong and yunho? please never fucking do that again it's an insult to them and real life actual human idols in general