#he has no idea how much his life is going to charge

[fluffyslug]

Sunset duo just hang and I love it.

You know when his eyes get all round? Yeah, I love that too.

Okay, the farmhouse ark was awesome, and well done. It was beautiful.

But...

I think something hard to show was just how much pressure was put on Donnie at the time. First off, he blamed himself for Leo's comatose state, because he didn't want to leave the lair. No doubt he was beating himself up over that constantly (also his father "died" and he might have blamed that on himslef too). And he's also the default medic: everyone would have been looking to him for how to treat Leo, even if he had no idea how.

That's a lot to put on a guy who's just lost everything he ever knew, all his tools, two members of his family, his hometown, and probably has no internet connection to boot. Raph was keeping watch over Leo and wrapping his head around being temporarily in charge. Mikey was distracting himself with chores and activities, trying to keep everybody going.

Donnie was alone.

Trying to save a life.

With no recources to speak of and no one who could help.

[theonottsbxtch]

A FUTURE WORTH LIVING | CS55

an: this was a request from @carlossainzapologist and RAHHHHH they’ve given me so many ideas chat be ready to be blown up on here please enjoy knight!carlos

wc: 3.6k

The castle walls were always cold at night, the chill seeping into her bones no matter how many fires roared in the hearth. She stood at the balcony, the silk of her gown whispering against the stone as the wind tangled itself in her hair. Below, the training yard was empty, save for one figure—Carlos.

He moved like the ocean, each swing of his blade fluid and unyielding. Moonlight danced along the edge of his sword, casting fleeting shadows that seemed to mock her. She had watched him countless nights like this, a silent penance for the sin of her love. The knight was hers in duty, bound to protect her with his life, but not in the way her heart so desperately craved.

She clenched the railing, the cool stone biting into her palms. Tomorrow, she would stand before an altar, draped in gold and jewels, and vow her life to a man she barely knew. A prince who was everything a kingdom could hope for—noble, strong, diplomatic. And yet, she could barely remember the color of his eyes.

Carlos, on the other hand... She could sketch the curve of his jaw from memory, trace the faint scar that cut through his brow with her fingertips. But he had never once looked at her as though she were anything more than his charge.

She turned away, unwilling to let the tears fall where they might be seen, even by the night.

“Your Highness,” his voice broke through the stillness, low and rough, sending a shiver down her spine.

She hadn’t heard him climb the stairs. “Carlos,” she said, forcing her voice to remain steady.

He stood in the doorway, his armor glinting faintly in the moonlight. “It’s late. You should rest.”

She laughed softly, bitterly. “Rest will not come easily tonight.”

He hesitated, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “You’ve...much to think about, I’m sure.”

Her heart twisted at his careful tone, the way he avoided her gaze. “Do you ever think about what it might be like to leave all of this behind?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Carlos stepped closer, and for a moment, she thought he might say something—something that could shatter the fragile balance they had maintained for years. But instead, he bowed his head.

“My duty is here,” he said, his words as unyielding as the steel he wielded. “With you, always.”

And wasn’t that the cruelest part of all?

She turned back to the balcony, desperate to hide the tremble in her lips. His words echoed in her mind, a hollow comfort and a deeper torment. With you, always. But never in the way she longed for.

“Duty,” she murmured, tasting the bitterness of the word. “And what of desire, Carlos? Do you ever think of what you want?”

The question hung between them like a blade poised to strike. She didn’t expect him to answer; he never did. He was a master of restraint, trained to subdue his every impulse, his every want, for the sake of the kingdom.

But this time, he faltered.

“I have no right to want,” he said at last, his voice tight with something she couldn’t quite name.

She spun to face him, her heart pounding. The stoic knight who had stood at her side for years, unflinching, unyielding, looked...fractured. His jaw was clenched, his hands trembling at his sides, as though holding himself back from something he couldn’t afford to let loose.

“Everyone has the right to want,” she said, taking a step closer. Her voice was steadier now, emboldened by the crack in his armour. “Even you, Carlos.”

He shook his head, “It’s late, Your Highness,” he said, his voice cold again, the mask he wore sliding back into place. “You should go to bed.”

Her heart stuttered.

“I…” She swallowed, the lump in her throat threatening to choke her. “Carlos, I—”

“Please,” he interrupted, his voice a little softer but still firm. “It’s been a long day. You need rest. Tomorrow, I’ll be here to take you to your wedding.”

The words stung, sharper than any blade. Your wedding.

Her chest tightened. She nodded, but it was a hollow motion, an empty gesture. “Of course,” she whispered, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. “I will go to bed.”

Carlos didn’t move, didn’t speak, as she turned away, her steps heavy as she walked past him and into her chambers. His silence followed her like a shadow, and when the door clicked shut behind her, the walls seemed to close in.

She collapsed onto her bed, the weight of the night pressing down on her chest. The tears came then, hot and relentless, streaking down her face. She buried her face in the pillow, her sobs muffled by the soft fabric, but the pain was no less real. How many years had she spent in this prison of her own making? How many nights had she wondered if he felt the same? And now, she had the answer.

He had never loved her. Not like that.

The cruelest part was that she had always known it. He had always kept his distance, had always put up that invisible wall between them. But tonight—tonight, she had hoped for something different. A sign. A glimpse of what could be. But instead, he had pushed her away, as he always did. As he was bound to.

And tomorrow, she would marry a prince. Not Carlos.

The thought was suffocating.

She cried until the tears were spent, her body aching with grief. The room, the bed, the very air around her felt like a tomb. Eventually, exhaustion overtook her, but sleep was fitful, filled with dreams of a life she would never have.

When the morning came, bright and cruel, she woke to the sound of birds outside the window. The sun was already rising, casting its light on a future she was powerless to change.

The day had come.

She stood in front of the full-length mirror in her chamber, staring at the reflection of the woman she was supposed to be. The dress—gold and white, sparkling like the dawn—felt like a weight, a gilded cage around her body. Her hair, braided intricately, was pinned perfectly in place, but her heart was a mess of tangled threads she couldn’t untangle. She had spent the last few hours preparing, her hands trembling with the knowledge of what was to come. The crown, the prince, the vows.

But as she looked into her own eyes, she saw only a woman who had never been allowed to choose her own fate.

Her father’s voice echoed from outside the door. “It’s time, my daughter.”

She closed her eyes, fighting back the tears.

When she stepped into the hall, the air seemed to thicken with the weight of expectation. The guests were already seated, whispering amongst themselves, all of them dressed in their finest clothes, their faces a blur of curiosity and anticipation. The music began to play softly, and her heart raced in response.

She could feel every eye on her as she made her way down the aisle, each step feeling heavier than the last. The golden carpet stretched out before her like a path to a life she had never wanted but had been told to accept. Her father’s arm was warm and steady at her side, but his grip felt more like a shackle than a reassurance.

And then, she saw him.

The prince stood at the altar, tall and regal in his embroidered cloak, his expression composed but his eyes glimmering with the excitement of their union. He was a handsome man, noble, with a smile that promised safety, security. But it was a smile she had never truly felt for.

The thought of marrying him—of giving herself over to someone who had always been a stranger to her—gnawed at her insides.

She caught sight of her people sitting in the pews, the nobles, the courtiers, their faces filled with eager expectation. The kingdom was relying on her. They all expected this—her duty to marry and secure the future of their land. And she had always known it was her responsibility, her burden, to uphold this legacy. But today, as she walked closer to the prince, closer to the altar, something inside her broke.

This wasn’t her life to choose. This was a life written for her before she had even taken her first breath.

Her heart pounded as she neared the altar. The prince’s eyes were fixed on her now, his smile widening. He reached out, eager to take her hand, to finalize the union that had been arranged for years. But something inside her snapped.

She looked to her father, his face a mask of pride and expectation. And then, she whispered—her voice trembling but resolute, despite the tears that threatened to spill.

“I can’t.”

The words were quiet, but the silence that followed felt deafening. Her father’s face faltered, the confusion and anger flashing in his eyes as the entire room fell into stunned silence.

“I can’t do this,” she said again, louder this time, her breath shaking. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Before anyone could stop her, she turned. Her gown swished in the air as she fled from the altar, her heart pounding with every step, every beat screaming to be free. The room erupted in chaos, gasps of shock and whispers of disbelief. Her father’s furious voice called after her, but she didn’t look back.

She ran down the aisle, past the stunned guests, toward the doors. The weight of their eyes was suffocating, but it wasn’t enough to make her stop.

But then, as she reached the doors, she heard it—the sound of footsteps, fast and urgent. A figure pushed through the crowd, his heavy armour clanking as he moved with determination.

Carlos.

Her breath hitched as he came to a stop in front of her, his face flushed with exertion but his eyes filled with something softer—something she hadn’t dared to hope for.

He didn’t speak at first. He didn’t need to. The world had stopped, leaving only the two of them.

“Carlos,” she whispered, her heart thundering in her chest.

He looked at her, his gaze gentle but firm. “You’re not alone,” he said, his voice low, raw. “I’ll be here. Always.”

And for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, she allowed herself to breathe, to feel something that was her own.

He reached out, taking her hand with a tenderness she hadn’t dared dream of.

“Come with me,” he urged quietly.

Without a second thought, she nodded, her heart finally free of the chains that had bound it for so long.

Carlos led her swiftly through the palace, his hand firm around hers as they moved with purpose. The chaos of the wedding behind them still echoed in the corridors, muffled voices and heavy footsteps trailing in their wake, but they were already a world apart.

He knew every hidden corner of the palace. Every secret passageway and forgotten alcove. He had trained here for years, had wandered these halls long before he had become her protector. Now, as he led her through a narrow, unlit hallway, his grip tightened, a silent promise that he would never let her go.

They reached a small, inconspicuous door at the end of the hall, tucked away in the shadow of a grand staircase. With a glance over his shoulder, Carlos pushed the door open, revealing a small room that had been untouched by the outside world for as long as either of them could remember.

The walls were lined with old tapestries, their colors faded with time, and the floor was covered in a thick rug. There were no windows—no light except for the soft glow of torches on the far wall. The air was thick with dust, but it felt safer than any grand chamber in the palace. Here, in this forgotten corner, they could be hidden from everything, from everyone.

He closed the door behind them, the click of the lock sounding final.

For a moment, they both stood in silence, catching their breath. She was still in her wedding gown, the fabric bunched around her legs, her chest rising and falling with each breath. His hands were still warm from the grip he had kept on her, his fingers now twitching with the need to touch her again.

Carlos took a step closer, the heat between them building. His eyes searched hers, full of questions, but also something deeper—something he had fought to conceal for years.

She swallowed, her voice barely a whisper. “What now?”

Carlos didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached out, his hand gently brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. His touch was hesitant, as if he were afraid she might vanish if he moved too quickly.

“I didn’t mean to…” He trailed off, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. “I didn’t mean to make you run. But I couldn’t let you do this, not when I knew you weren’t ready.”

Her heart skipped at the weight of his words. He knew her. Truly knew her.

“You should’ve let me go,” she whispered, her voice strained. “You should’ve stayed out of it. This is not our fight.”

He shook his head, his jaw tightening. “It’s always been our fight, Your Highness. I’ve watched you—” His voice faltered as if the confession had come too suddenly. “I’ve watched you give everything for this kingdom, for your people, for your father. But it was never your choice, was it? Not once. And I couldn’t bear to watch you live a life you didn’t want.”

The words were like a dagger to her chest, but they were also freeing. For the first time in her life, someone saw her, truly saw her—beyond the princess, beyond the duty. He saw her heart.

“I don’t want to marry him,” she said, the words coming out with a rush of emotion she hadn’t allowed herself to feel until now. “I never did.”

Carlos stepped closer, his breath mingling with hers. “Then don’t. Not now. Not ever.”

She looked up at him, her chest tight with something she couldn’t name. “But what do we do now, Carlos? What’s left for us?”

He didn’t hesitate. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had begun to spill from her eyes. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you. Whatever you need, I’ll be there. Always.”

And in that moment, everything that had been left unsaid, all the years of longing and silence, came crashing down.

Carlos leaned in, his lips brushing against hers for the briefest of moments, tentative, searching. She gasped, her heart racing as she finally let herself feel everything she had been holding back. She kissed him back, her hands moving up to his chest, tugging at the fabric of his tunic, desperate to feel him closer.

The kiss deepened, their bodies pressed against one another as though they were two halves of a whole, finally coming together. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her flush against him as his mouth claimed hers with a fierce urgency.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, her breath coming in short gasps as the heat between them intensified, the room spinning with a mixture of passion and desperation.

She had imagined this moment a thousand times—dreamed of it in the silence of her heart—but nothing had prepared her for the reality of it. The way his hands burned against her skin, the way his lips moved over hers with a hunger that matched her own.

Carlos pulled back for a moment, his forehead resting against hers, both of them gasping for air. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“I’ve always wanted this,” she confessed, her voice trembling.

And without another word, they kissed again, this time with a fierceness that spoke of all the years they had spent apart, of all the moments they had lost. In that hidden room, within the walls of the palace that had confined them both, they were finally free.

Just as their kiss deepened once more, a sharp, urgent knock at the door shattered the fragile moment between them. The sound echoed in the small room like a warning bell.

She pulled away immediately, her heart leaping into her throat as she scrambled to straighten herself. The panic rose within her, hot and suffocating. What if it was her father? What if the whole palace had come after her?

Carlos, too, immediately stepped back, his expression flickering between concern and irritation. He moved toward the door swiftly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, though it wasn’t drawn. His eyes met hers for a brief moment, and in that glance, there was no need for words. They both knew they were far from safe.

The knock came again, louder this time, followed by a low voice from the other side.

“Carlos? Open the door. It’s Lando.”

Her heart skipped. Lando—one of the knights she recognised from the court. He had always been polite, professional, and loyal to her family, but what was he doing here?

Carlos hesitated for only a moment before he reached for the latch and opened the door. Lando stood there, his expression tense, eyes scanning the room quickly. He wasn’t wearing his armor, but he was still dressed in the colors of the royal guard, his dark cloak billowing slightly behind him.

“Carlos,” Lando began, his voice low but urgent, “I’ve heard the rumors. Your princess...she’s gone?”

Carlos didn’t answer right away, his gaze still fixed on Lando, weighing the situation.

“Yes,” Carlos said, his voice steady but tinged with something like defiance. “She’s with me. No one else knows of this.”

Lando nodded, glancing quickly at her—still in her wedding gown, eyes wide with fear—and then back at Carlos.

“Good,” Lando said, stepping inside without waiting for permission. “I’m not here to make trouble. I’m here to get you both out.”

The words struck her like a bolt of lightning. “Get us out?” Her voice trembled, the reality of what that could mean slowly sinking in. “Where? How? They’ll come for us. The entire palace…”

Lando closed the door behind him with a soft thud, cutting off the room’s only escape from the chaos outside. He leaned against the door, his hands steady. “I have a plan. I know the back routes. I can get you on a train, to the border. The prince and your father will have no idea you’ve gone. But we need to move now, before they realise what’s happened.”

Carlos turned to her, his eyes dark with unspoken emotion, but this time there was no hesitation. He wasn’t waiting for her to choose anymore.

But she was frozen, her mind racing. The weight of everything was bearing down on her—her family, the kingdom, her future. She had run away from her wedding, run away from the life she had been promised. It wasn’t just a momentary flight of passion. This was real, and there would be no going back.

Her heart was torn between the life she had been forced into and the man standing in front of her. She had always known she was meant for something more, but this—this escape—felt so final. So dangerous.

The room seemed to close in around her, the walls pressing against her chest as she breathed in sharp, ragged breaths.

“I can’t... I can’t do this,” she whispered, her voice shaking.

Carlos took a step toward her, his hand gentle on her arm. “You don’t have to decide now, but we don’t have time. They’ll find us, and they’ll make sure you marry him. You’ve already decided you can’t go through with that. So what are you going to do? Stay here, be forced into a life you never wanted?”

The words stung, but they were true. She had always been the dutiful daughter, the princess. She had always done what was expected. But this—this was hers.

She looked at Lando, then back at Carlos. The decision was there, right in front of her.

The chaos of the wedding, the pressure of her family’s expectations, the silence she had lived in for so long—it all came rushing to the surface. She didn’t have time to think anymore.

Fuck it.

The thought shot through her mind like a spark to kindling.

“Let’s go,” she said, her voice steady now, her decision final.

Carlos’ eyes softened, relief flooding through him. He reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly. “You won’t regret this.”

“I already have,” she replied, a wild grin breaking across her face. “But this... this is my choice.”

Lando smiled, and with a quick nod, he moved toward the door. “We’ll need to move fast. You two better follow me.”

Carlos took her hand, guiding her toward the door, but before they stepped into the unknown, she paused for a moment.

“Carlos,” she whispered. He turned to her, his hand resting on her back. She looked at him with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. “Are you sure? Will you stay with me? I... I don’t want to be alone in this.”

Carlos stepped closer, his voice firm. “You’re not alone. I will always be here.”

And with that, they followed Lando through the dark corridors of the palace, the sound of their footsteps fading into the distance.

They were no longer bound by duty, by royal expectation, by anything but their own desire for freedom. And in that moment, they realised that together, they could forge a new path—one they chose.

the end.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby

[deesseshesca]

PAC : How will your pregnancy go ? (18+)

Just reminder ... that ... I AINT THE ONE !

PERSONAL READING (SALE) (LINK)

FIRE TO THE MOON

FUTURE LOVE + SEX DOUALA = 40$ (2for1)

DOWN TO MY CORE

CHARACTER UPDAPTE + LORE DUMP = 40$ (2for1)

PILE 1

SONG : THAT GUY - Tyler the Creator

P H Y S I C A L

Chariot, 3 pentacles (reverse)

First thing, first Pile 1,you don’t understand the impact that your pile had on me. When you are going to be pregnant you are still going to achieve everything you set for yourself with great happiness. You are going to be so lucky pregnant, you have no idea. Everyone that will rub your stomach, if you allow it, will whisk a bit of luck their way. All this because you understood a very important soul lesson from the very beginning of the journey. Your breast is going to be so full, y’all may jump 2 cups bigger but Lord are they going to be extremely sensitive. Your nipples are always going to be hard. Y’all we suffer from extreme hunger (that’s what I call it) like if you don’t eat, you will actually lose your mind. The uber better not be late because you will blow up their phone with no shame. The craving are so weird and are not just in the privacy of your house, you will have the audacity to ask restaurants to fix their dishes to your weird liking. If a restaurant refuses to change, then you are leaving and throwing a fit in your car until the next food stop. You guys may develop asthma in your pregnancy or have frequent asthma attacks. When I make a list of everything that’s going to happen to you, you may look at your screen with a stank face. The reality is you are not going against your body. You know it is useless. You know there's a price to pay for everything and you are ready to pay the price necessary for your ultimate miracle. You don’t hate your body nor do you get mad at yourself for reacting. There's no such a thing as over-sensitivity or over-reacting, there's no such thing as too intense or moody or even too horny. Everything is good to create the greatest gift given to you. You don’t waste your time comparing, hating or sad, you prefer finding innovative ways to deal with your sensitive tits, your food cravings and bad breathing habits. Breaking any obstacles in our way, achieving so much and radiating love every step of the way. 

L I F E S T Y L E 

Devil (reverse), knight of wands 

You have an extremely cut-throat energy with people around you. You won’t mind blocking anyone that does not understand your boundaries. No warning, they fuck up, bye bye. People that didn't support you during pregnancy but are trying to find their way in when the baby is born … are going to hit a closed door. You don’t play this game. From day one, any older person trying to come in and tell you what's up better be ready to be disrespected because you don’t need people's opinion to weigh you down in the most vulnerable moment of your life. The midwife wants to get smart, not only is her access revoked but if you have time you may press charges ( as you should because there are too many mean nurses in this world). Your man is even scared of you as he should. He eats too loud, looks at you the wrong way or even eats something that makes you sick … the lethal tone is coming out. Your tone is so soft but your words actually annihilate. I heard : You: ‘’ Can you please chew even louder maybe then I will found my 14 reasons since you are my 13 one ?’’ all in a calm tone and a killer gaze. 

PREVIOUS READING

2) Wanna know the love story the universe has for you? 💫 In 8 parts, I spill all: first meet, first kiss, confession, sexy time, and more. Don’t miss out! 👀💖 (LINK)

3) For ALL DECEMBER get 2 readings for the price of 1 : LINK

PILE 2

SONG : Tranquility - Jack Harlow

A completely reading was necessary for you guys. Don't worry, Chérie d'Amour is nothing bad.

Full of love reading

PILE 3

SONG: Hello,Hi - Little Smiz

P H Y S I C A L

8 swords, page of swords (reverse)  

You're going to find out you're pregnant with a sneaky link. You know damn well, they ain't ready for the commitment and so is you. So you are not mad. You are not even stressed when you are going to find out because you know you have options and it’s not really a baby until you choose it to be. You are going to announce it to them and they are going to have a panic attack and still be extremely polite and kind with you while telling you they can’t be a father.  Which you know … you just wanted to tell them. I have a vision of someone sitting in the dark and actually analysing what your life has become. Then suddenly a change of perspective which is weird because you never been nothing but pessimistic in you life. I hear the script of Alice in Wonderland: ‘’ They can always paint them red

What an odd thing to say’’. 

You are going to keep the baby. Is important to note that your finances are excellent, you have your degree, you have your own car, like you are set. The reality is you have been set. The only thing stopping you is yourself and you are going to realize that once again when you are starting to live your dream life. The only reason you are stuck in the same place is because you don’t want to leave. You are like a chain animal. Is not because you cut the chain that they will actually leave. I see you moving, changing jobs, everythings happening quickly and nothing is chaotic. Which makes sense since you have had the plan. You know what to do but you refuse to take the leap for yourself but you did for your child. You will meet somebody new that’s going to be your dream partner. The fact that you are pregnant is a blessing and not a burden. They are going to jump quickly in the father role. Y’all may not live together at first because you will have signed the lease before meeting them but I see an organized agenda regarding the baby. They will stay over for weeks to take care of the baby. The baby will forever know them as their dad. Y’all are going to have an amazing and active sex life. He’s going to put you to sleep. You guys will often fuck twice a day. 

L I F E S T Y L E 

8 pentacles, Hierophant

The reason for why you're having your dream life after a baby or while pregnant is because you are the one late. Life has been waiting for you to make a move. The perfect friend group, the perfect job, the perfect partner, they all came because you made the final decision and followed through with it. So all your blessings are going to fall upon your life at once. You have unlocked a door that’s been waiting for you. That’s why everything goes extremely smoothly. Also there's no self doubt coming from you since you are so focused on creating the perfect cocoon for your bundle of joy. Self doubt breaks the flow of blessings. All’s well that ends well ( tout est bien qui finit bien). 

PREVIOUS READING

2) Wanna know the love story the universe has for you? 💫 In 8 parts, I spill all: first meet, first kiss, confession, sexy time, and more. Don’t miss out! 👀💖 (LINK)

3) For ALL DECEMBER get 2 readings for the price of 1 : LINK

[acatthatmakeseclairs]

Arcane Season 2 Necrit Interview Transcript + my ramblings

Hello! I thought I’d share the transcript for the Necrit & Christian Linke Interview on tumblr because it flopped on reddit lol (you can find the transcript at the very end of this post (ⓛ ω ⓛ*) )

Some notes to consider before going through the transcript and the rest of this post:

The transcript is of the YouTube video ver. of the interview, I’m crazy, but I’m not so crazy that I’m going to attempt to transcribe a 4 hour VOD.

The transcript is images for now, because I would not be able to fit a 2+ hour interview in a 40k character limit (the interview is like 60k+ characters, 50k+ without spaces)

I’ve added timestamps so you guys can easily reference a question or response from the video directly; I’ve also highlighted certain sections of the interview that I thought were interesting :)

For the discussion section, I’ll be referencing this post, because… let’s just say it was quite incorrect in some sections or there were points that I thought would be cool to talk about.

I’ve tried to be as objective and accurate as I could when getting into the details of this interview, hence why I’ve referenced other interviews and production materials, like concept art, but again, I am human, and I can get things incorrect or I can off as a bit biased– but alas o(*￣▽￣*)o

Anyways, onto the discussion!

Noxus, Ionia and Demacia are getting shows and are next steps into this cinematic universe; they pick each setting to explore [different] sides of [Runeterra].

They are not each getting shows… the team working on this new project, has only, casually, announced one new project.

They are one year into production for one show- the fact that Christian Linke mentioned Noxus, Ionia and Demacia, implies that this new series has a story that is centred around all three nations, not unlike how Arcane’s conflict centered around 3 different nation states: Piltover, Zaun and Noxus, with Noxus being positioned as an overall antagonistic force.

I’m not too familiar with the timeline of League of Legends, but I’ve heard here and there that Swain, a much-teased character in Arcane’s finale, had made his deal with Raum after the Invasion of Ionia, and seeing as he’s made his little cameo after Viktor’s failed ‘Glorious Evolution’, this could imply that we won’t see Ionia in any direct capacity.

Ok, this part is purely wishful thinking, but I think that our main setting for the next installment of this greater story is Demacia.

Noxus is positioned as an antagonist, it would be kind of underwhelming to go right into the motivations and deep mysteries of your central antagonist.

Linke stated that the team starts with ‘character stories’ (01:46:31) before anything else, as well as saying that they like ‘seeing Champions [meeting & interacting]’ (00:03:22) and my brain likes to make connections where there might not be any but what if Jinx was heading towards Demacia, and becomes friends with Lux? Again, total reach, but it’s a fan-favourite duo and it would be a good continuation of Jinx’s story (if they do continue her story that is).

They [considered] Blitzcrank for Season 2.

Christian Linke suggested Blitzcrank to be involved in the story in some way, but the rest of the team shot the idea down, with Linke describing it as ‘silly’ (00:05:31); it was probably a small joke or gag, considering how Linke described it.  

[Heimerdinger] is not dead and other characters might [come] back to life.

Christian Linke did not outright confirm or deny Heimerdinger’s death nor the existence of Bandle City in the Arcane universe, all he said was “I’m not done with Heimerdinger.” (00:07:22) You also have to consider that this guy is a Heimerdinger main, and he’s only one person amongst many who is charge of the direction of Arcane, and it’s related properties. Can’t say I’m not hopeful of Heimerdinger coming back, I love that little guy so much.

As for the other characters? Again, no direct confirmation on Jinx (00:31:45), especially in the last Netflix Afterglow Interview, but Viktor and Jayce … I’ll get into it further.  

Swain is teased to [be] looking into [the history of the Arcane] and [the origins of demons].

I can’t say I fully disagree with this point, but not because of Christian Linke’s comments in this interview (00:19:28). Throughout this second season, Ambessa continues to try to recreate Hex-tech, where, yes, she’s doing it for her own self-serving desires, but who told her to go to Piltover in the first place? In my opinion, it might have been Swain, seeing as his raven is seen poking around looking for the Hex-gem in Jayce’s, now destroyed, hammer.

I should also add that in relation to the overall timeline of Arcane, and it soon to be related properties, is that the current events within Arcane, so let’s say Arcane’s conclusion, the Invasion of Ionia has concluded, as if you can remember, the woman that Ambessa killed in Mel’s backstory is an Ionian princess, check out these bits of concept art from the Fortiche artists (Link 1) & (Link 2).

[Pianist] is teased to be Jhin.

Go to (00:23:10) in the video linked, he did not make a connection between this side character and Jhin, also are we just forgetting that Jhin is Ionian? And he would be much older than this side character??

Ziggs was not [inspiration] for Isha.

I thought I’d add to this point about the inspiration behind Isha: Isha is described as a child of Zaun, with Linke commenting that her hat is a miner hat, which is an allusion to Zaun’s early mining industry (00:24:47). We can see in Act 1, that although she is a child, Isha is very invested in the independence and freedom of Zaun, seeing as she poses as Jinx in what is possibly various rallies in the Undercity. I’d like to think she’s Zaun’s hope :) (let’s not think about what her death implies for Zaun…)

Renata will [replace the Chem-barons] in future.

Again, no confirmation. This discussion (00:27:19), was just that- a discussion of the future of Piltover and Zaun. Based on the production timelines, we may not actually see newer Champions like Renata, because they are released during production; I think we might get a mention of her in the next series, though.

Viktor will be explored on later shows confirmed- he is more than just human or Arcane user now; he is something special.

The status of Viktor and Jayce was confirmed to be dead (ಥ_ಥ) by Christian Linke in the recent Netflix Afterglow interview for Season 2 Act 3- HOWEVER, he described Viktor and Jayce to be “disintegrated” (1:33 – Netflix Interview) which is not what happened on screen. Instead, what is show to us in the show that Viktor and Jayce are sucked into the acceleration rune.

(“They’re alive- they’re stuck in time purgatory!” I say as they drag me into the asylum)

It should also be mentioned that the team, or at least Christian Linke, are interested in exploring what Viktor has become by the end of Arcane (01:20:05), and potentially the fates of Viktor and Jayce post-Arcane– again this does not imply that we will see either of them in the story in any direct capacity.

As for what Viktor is? Throughout this interview, he’s described as a symbiosis between the technological and organic– this does not mean he’s ‘cured’ of his disease and he’s not still disabled!

Throughout season 2 act 2, we see Viktor continue to use his staff to support himself, and Jinx also comments on his appearance, saying that he ‘looks like he’s got a couple [of conditions]’ (hahaha)- lets also not forget that in his Machine Herald form, his leg and back brace are fused into his body. (Interesting how something similar happened to Mel when she unlocked her empath powers, her golden accessories fused into her body- what’s up with that Fortiche?)

Personally, based on what Linke said “… what's different about Viktor is the Hexcore … [the runes] used [in] the Hexcore [are] a different thing, [they’re] much more powerful …” (00:31:01), and of course what we see in the show, I think that Viktor’s body is directly connected to the Hex-core, which creates transmutations within Viktor’s body, keeping him ‘alive’ but he also becomes a mage.

In the world of Arcane/LoL, you can become a mage by either being born as one, or praying to an Aspect or a God. However, Viktor (with the unintentional help of Jayce) became a mage due to the Hex-corisation of his body and soul- but his magic is different from other mages. A lot of the patterns that appear on Mel’s force-fields are very clean, neat, like the runes we see drawn on the various Hex-tech devices, but whenever post-Glorious Evolution Viktor casts a spell, we see this white-glowing webbed orb appear, similar to Ekko’s Z-drive. Not sure what this means, but I thought I’d share my ramblings :)

Other champions from Zaun and Piltover will be brought up to Arcane timeline.

This point was briefly mentioned (00:31:55 - 00:32:15), but even I wasn’t sure about how to interpret this. I think it might refer to the character re-works in League of Legends, but so far they’ve only reworked characters actually featured in Arcane; I’m guessing future reworks for more characters are being discussed amongst the creatives at RIOT, but we have to wait for the upcoming series to see what’ll happen.

Urgot is coming later.

… Again, no direct confirmation, Linke said “Not yet … he wasn't part of the story. I do think Urgot is really interesting …” (00:33:03). Urgot is a character based in the Zaun/Piltover story, so seeing him in the sequel series is unlikely.

Viktor and Jayce are confirmed to be bromance- like very good friends who die for each other any given time.

Look, I’m biased as fuck when it comes to these two, but Christian Linke did say “… I think it’s not romantic.” Again, like with many things in this interview, this is his opinion.

Whilst he may be the co-creator behind Arcane, his opinion was only relevant to his contributions regarding their narrative, just like how the voice actors (for both Arcane and LoL!), the many animators, and writers at RIOT had their own important contributions and interpretations on the relationship between Jayce and Viktor.

From the stuff we’ve seen this past month from the cast and crew, with Toks Olagundoye reposting Jayvik fanart, Harry Llyod reading Jayvik fanfics, and Kevin Alejandro signing not one, but 2 Jayvik fanarts, as well as of course the many Jayvik artworks from the team over at Fortiche; it seems that quite a lot of the team have quite a differing opinion from Christian Linke, almost as if he’s missing something lol.

I’ll finish up this section with a comment from Amanda Overton, because it the best response to how their relationship is interpreted and the description of their relationship:

"Fans are always justified in reading things the way they want to because that’s part of making art. When you do a thing for it based on you, it doesn’t actually have meaning until other people give it their own meaning. My backstory is very different from your backstory and my experiences are very different from yours so I can only speak from my experience. When I put a thing that I’ve written out in the world, then everyone brings their own different experiences to it."

"We were writing them as a loving, brotherly relationship that unambiguously [had] love between them. When it got to that final moment, it was so romantic and beautiful to me when I saw it for the first time—the way Fortiche put it together—I was like, “Oh, well maybe there is hope [for] these guys to have some future beyond what the show intended.” That was really cool for me to see. If people want to imagine that, I think they can, and that’s wonderful. Now that the show is over, if there’s the potential for that out there, then that’s potential that our fans can realize for themselves."

House of Medarda will play part in future of [Runeterra].

Yep! Christian Linke alludes to this in (01:11:37). Mel, or perhaps an older Mel, will appear alongside Noxian characters like Swain and Darius in the future series. It will be interesting to see the political dynamics between these characters as Mel is not only a Medarda and a Mage, but someone intimately connected with the Black Rose (◉_◉).

Glorious Evolution robots are inspired by biblical angels without wings.

Linke said this when it came to the design of Viktor’s Glorious Evolution robots (01:15:10):

“We actually talked … about how we want to have something that depicts, in quotation marks, ‘angels’; something angelic and pure, but then also [that] has … slightly lost some of the expression and … humanity, in a way that's a bit eerie. That's what Viktor's vision [was], but it will deteriorate [one day].”

The religious imagery regarding Viktor was unintentional, the intention behind Viktor was more centred around depicting him as a Messiah– “… We never wanted to have this direct link to any specific religion, it's just this idea of some Messiah or someone that people [wanted] to follow … [it] doesn't have to be religious but, of course, there is a certain connotation. The beauty of religious art … [it’s] just absolutely beautiful stuff and the supernatural depictions of it … [is] very inspiring.” (01:19:14)

There are selected few who [organize] and keep lore in check.

This is not true! Or at least this has not been outright confirmed in this interview; the question at (01:24:24) was not fully answered by Linke in this interview.

I also want to add a though of my own regarding this quote from Linke, “I would say it's 70% us and 30% Fortiche having ideas and then we talk about it, and I agree.” (00:15:12). This attitude that all these ideas came mostly from the writing team seems a bit ‘egotistical’ as Viktor would say- there was a significant gap in communication between the writing team and the team at Fortiche when it came to the world-building, lore, and plot that was shown on screen (you can see this is the attached screenshots of Amanda Overton’s tweets).

(Let’s also not forget that team at Fortiche indicated that the woman that Ambessa killed in Mel’s flashback is an Ionian princess, implying that the invasion of Ionia occurred prior to the events of Arcane; Fortiche animators were also the ones to propose the CaitVi sesbian lex scene; let’s not even get to Amanda Overton’s comments regarding how the Fortiche team implied the romantic relationship between Jayce and Viktor like, the Fortiche team is doing a lot of heavy lifting lol)

At the end of the day, the story we see as the audience is in filmic form, which is a primarily visual medium, so any bits of lore or story is based on what the storyboarding, voice over, animation, and post-production teams want us to see and take away from it.

(Edit: sorry! I completely forgot to actually put the images of the transcript!)

[alwayscorvus]

i have no idea whether or not you take request but ill just shoot my shot ( if u dont take reqs, its a-okay, you can just ignore this)

but if you do, would it be fine for me to request a fic with reader x werewolf!yuanwu ( too late for Halloween? perhaps, but its never a wrong time to enjoy some good supernatural stuff) and something about transformation and discovering about yuanwu's condition ( you dont have to rigidly follow this one, you have full creative freedom over this one)

im currently going insane w the lack of yuanwu content and my brain decides to make me more feral by giving an idea for werewolf!yuanwu <`3

Bittberry Tea

malereader x werewolf!Yuanwu, fluff;

one thing for sure, we both have a great sense of timing when it comes to "Halloween" vibes. I take requests but just hardly ever have time to write them (I mean... I have time for writing just not for translating it later...). So maybe u already forgot about your Yuanwu's phase... Still thanks a lot for it!

even if its not the best, it's probably the longest post i have ever written... and I will try to never make the same mistake again, so enjoy!

Sometimes changes in life weren't as bad as they might seem. Sometimes they opened up a doors for new opportunities.

Or at least that's what your father always said.

That's why when you had to move back to Jinzhou in order to take charge of family business, you weren't really bothered. After all, you had always been prepared for such a turn of events. You went on a trip around the world, met true masters in their fields and gained a knowledge in subjects of tea brewing and herb gathering, just because of that. Also, your father was getting older and his condition didn't really allow him to continue his work.

Time to use your hard-earned skills and expand Liuxian Teahouse's business by opening up customers to a new exotic flavors, has finally come.

But of course, road to success couldn't be too easy. And your enthusiasm was bound to run into a wall called "reality". That definitely chilled your father's dreams. Maybe your traditional teahouse wasn't going to rack and ruin, but for the past decade it clearly didn't live up to its potential in gaining more popularity. And you were the one who was supposed to change that. However, your customers didn't really seem to follow this vision. They were terrified of trying anything new. But surprisingly, you weren't completely taken aback by their attitude and still tried to convince them to new flavors and techniques.

Especially one particular person. Which was stubborn like no one else. And which, despite many attempts, never gave up in sticking to their old habits.

When you returned to Jinzhou, staff introduced him to you as a regular customer of your tea shop. Technically he was there first and that gave him a big advantage over you. But in the end, precisely because of that reason, you couldn't let him win.

How could a person who saw you almost every day miss out so much by closing themselves on only one solution?

-Yuanwu - you announced in an anticipating voice at the sight of a newly arriving customer. Almost feeling happy with the idea of your victim finally getting caught into a trap.

Man looked at you with slightly frightened eyes. He really hoped that he wouldn't find you behind a counter today.

Or let's be honest… it was a lie.

Subconsciously, he really wanted to see you. After all, he started coming here more often precisely because of you. Not like before; once or twice a week, but for the past six months almost daily. Just to see your warm smile and exchange a few sentences about how he was doing. He didn't feel the need to talk about himself. If he did, he always had a plenty of people in his gym that he could burden with his thoughts. Yet, he didn't. The only reason why he was getting out of his comfort zone was your charming voice… As soothing as a warm coat on an icy night, as hot as freshly brewed tea and as refreshing as a breeze of spring. Combination that Yuanwu loved and that he could listen to over and over again. Even if it was limited to just few simple answers, winks and snorts of laughter. Oh, how much Yuanwu would give to be able to hear more. Especially about you. Curiosity got the best of him.

But not today. Not during this period. Especially when this was getting closer.

-You weren't here yesterday -you pointed out correctly, trying to let his guard down- A tough fight?

You referred to this tournament that Yuanwu's gym had recently held while rolling up your sleeves to slowly get down to brewing his tea.

Man only mumbled at this with a nod. He really was exhausted. This season was seriously giving him a hard time, and this responsibilities that he had added to himself weren't really helping. But at first, he thought they would be the perfect solution to occupy his thoughts and give him a great excuse to not visit you until everything would be resolved. And while he actually managed to act wisely yesterday, today his instincts didn't let him. And brought him right at your door. Yuanwu hated that, it made him act completely like not him. He became hyperactive and relied on raw force as if in his teenage years. But he couldn't help it, even his calm approach wasn't able to overcome this urge. Before he could even think about it, he was already sitting on a stool at your bar.

Yuanwu scratched himself intensely behind his right ear. Place where his fedora unpleasantly squished his head began to itch heavily again. This time a habit that he also hated. Though maybe not so much, because it always made you smile. And although it involved a great amount of embarrassment (which Yuanwu had no intention of showing on his stoic face) nothing excited him more than your laugh. He really couldn't understand where this feelings were coming from, but ever since he saw you for the first time, some strange force had been pulling him persistently towards you. Exactly like you to him.

You secretly glanced at him with tenderness. Despite his age, proud aura, bulky body or even beard itself, you couldn't deny that sometimes Yuanwu reminded you of a big puppy. Even if he evoked fear and awe in others, there were some certain adorable slip-ups that he made. Reactions of excitement when you agreed with him or sad pouts when he found out that he wouldn't see you for the weekend. All those little gestures unnoticeable at first glance that didn't let you dismiss this thought.

Yuanwu took his fedora off and placed it carefully on the wooden countertop, not far from his hands, which he intertwined together just a seconds later.

He looked in your direction and swallowed his saliva heavily. Seeing your arms exposed to your elbows and your veins tensed from precarious job, Watching your exposed arms and veins, tensed up from precise job, made something unpleasantly swirl around in his stomach. Your focused gaze and carefully thought-out movements while crushing the leaves didn't help either. Your elegance in performing of such a simple tasks was breathtaking. Your movements were so smooth, as if you had done it thousands of times before. And Yuanwu didn't doubt that this could be the case. You were so dedicated to your work that man didn't allow himself to question your passion for your profession or years you had dedicated to perfecting yourself. Yuanwu greatly admired your devotion.

But wait a minute. Something wasn't right. Man looked suspiciously at the stickers of a boxes that you had just used.

-I will have a Bittberry Tea- he warned right away, and you sighed in resignation.

-Fine - you gently lifted one corner of your lips, more amused than offended at the idea of being caught red-handed.

You definitely weren't trying to secretly sneak the other tea.

Or maybe you did.

But at least you didn't have any bad intentions!

And Yuanwu knew this very well. And after all this attempts in convincing him to try something new, he would have agreed to go along a long time ago. After all, he was already too old for such pestering and this types of games were too tiresome and tedious for him. But if the case involved you... Man just had to admit that he was fond of your attention. And thanks to this tea he was gaining a lot of it. If he gave in, your little play would stop and he would lose the only excuse he had to pique your interest.

Or at least that's what he thought.

-By the way… I was just wondering… -you turned your back to Yuanwu as if looking for a new cup, but in fact slightly embarrassed by your sudden boldness- This Saturday there is a full moon and... -your hand froze in a mid-air- I know a great place from where you can see the moon perfectly. Weather hasn't been good lately, but now it's supposed to be suitable for night walks - word by word you quickened your pace, trying to have this stressful moment behind you as soon as possible- when I was still a teenager I loved to stay there and admire the moon for hours. Maybe- Just maybe-… - you turned rapidly towards Yuanwu- you would like to go there with me?

Man looked at you with wide-open eyes. Almost as if he saw a ghost.

You smiled awkwardly. You just screwed up.

How could you even think about having a chance with someone like Yuanwu?! Let's be honest, after all, someone like him was bound to already have a partner. Even if he didn't brag about it. And if not. You were a simple tea seller, while he ran the most respected gym in all Huanglong. You were out of his league. He wouldn't even look at you.

While you felt a mental breakdown. Yuanwu gently slid down on his stool and with an sudden “excuse me!” ran out of a teahouse.

You watched with resignation as his figure disappeared behind a slightly glazed door.

This clearly wasn't the best moment.

It's a good thing that tea makers weren't required to be overly intelligent. Because, if your father had seen you just now, he would have definitely disinherited you from the rights of your family business.

Did you, in your foolishness, choose to talk to Yuanwu and try to repair your not even developed relationship, after he didn't show up at your place for the past three days? Yes. And was it a good idea? Absolutely not.

But something deep inside you told you that you couldn't let it go just like that. Over the past few months, you had grown used to seeing this gray-haired man who decided to reveal his vulnerability to you. And you couldn't imagine ending things like that. Without any answer. That wasn't even in Yuanwu's style.

Anyway, you hoped that even though he didn't reciprocate your feelings he would at least agree to remain as your friend. After all, you didn't even declare anything.

Anyone could have gone on a night walk in the moonlight… Right?

You didn't find him at the gym. You didn't find him at home. You felt a sense of resignation, but only for a moment. Yuanwu's kind neighbor gave you an idea about his potential whereabouts. Although she didn't know him very well, as he rarely talked about himself, she was a great observer. And a bit prying by the way… She couldn't help but pay attention to his enight escapades. Especially since he always came back from them pretty bruised. As if he had drunk a lot and run into a wrong company. And everyone thought that he was such a well-mannered gentleman! Such lies couldn't spread on neighbor's watch. She wasted a couple of evenings, but it was worth it -or at least, that's how she bragged.

Looking carefully through the window, she finally came to a conclusion. Surprisingly, man wasn't sneaking to a bars but somewhere out of town. She had probably hoped for something else. Because this rumors didn't sound as spicy as they might have. But at least she learned some of the truth that was unknown to others. And if it weren't for her old, sick legs that slowly refused to obey her, she would certainly have known more of it.

Not really bothered by older woman's remarks, you focused on Yuanwu himself and headed to a pointed direction. It was getting dark outside so you wanted to find him as soon as possible.

There was only one path leading in the given way, not really awell-trodden one, but you recognized it immediately. It led to a small forest where you and your father used to collect leaves for brews. You remembered this place well thanks to a small wooden woodcutter's hut. Once... magical and cozy. Now... rather abandoned and falling.

You tilted your head to the side pleasantly surprised. There was a smoke coming from a chimney, which suggested someone's presence.

Yuanwu - you thought with hope and rushed to the door hastily knocking.

Nothing.

You repeated.

Still nothing.

Exactly as if he was hoping for you to think that no one was here and leave.

-Yuanwu, I know you are there. Please open up. Let's talk.

Silence.

You growled in disappointment and banged your fist onto a door.

-Yuanwu, please-

You whimpered.

-I won't leave until I find out why you ran out like a scalded cat. I know that we may never have gotten to know each other more deeply, but I've managed to really like you and I can't imagine us suddenly stopping talking. I can't imagine my days at work without you by my side- I-.... -you spoke pleadingly until you heard a quiet rustling.

Your eyes lit up. You took a step back.

Locks in doors clicked. Rotten planks shifted with weight.

Through a small crack you saw a wasted face of Yuanwu. Dark circles stung your heart.

-Just hurry.

He swung the door open, letting you inside.

With each of your movements, a cloud of dust rose in the air. You coughed, chasing away an unwelcome gray particles.

Finally, you were able to get a better look at him. He was hunched over and drenched in sweat. Exhausted as if he hadn't slept for a week. With his right hand, he held up a small oil lamp, and with his left, he pressed tighter to his chest a thick blanket that wrapped around him like a coat.

Yuanwu carefully put down on a small table the only source of light besides a fireplace and threw himself onto the old mattress located right next to him on icy floor.

You moved toward the windows, wishing to brighten the room with more light thanks to a rising moon.

-No!

You heard a desperate scream and instantly turned towards man.

-Just... please don't.

-O-okay?

You took slow, uncertain steps to curled up Yuanwu. You weren't sure what had just happened, but his condition definitely scared you. The only thing you thought about was helping him, but you didn't really know how.

Seeing that he wasn't reacting badly to your closeness, you crouched down and gently placed your hand on his shoulder. He shuddered. But didn't push you away. So you allowed yourself to gently massage his arm through a pile of old rags.

-Are you all right? Did someone hurt you? Just tell me what I can do to help you-

-Everything is all right. Nothing has happened. I'm just-… ill. And I need some space - he was speaking calmly in a weak voice- And about… That. Do not worry. You know that sometimes I haven't visited you for a while, but I always came back. Now I will also be back. Just not today… And maybe not tomorrow - he laughed bitterly- But the day after tomorrow I will definitely return, for you to once again try to push something in me that is not a Bittberry Tea. Everything will be the same as before. Of course, as long as you still want to keep in touch with me - he reflected.

-Of course I want to! - you protested- After all, that's why I'm here. But that doesn't explain anything-

-Good. -he smiled slightly- But now you should go. There is no time-

-What? I'm not going anywhere-

-No, really. I don't know why, but it's much worse this time-

-What's worse?

-That's-... not important! Please. Go

-No way, I'm not going anywhere until I know what this is all about

Yuanwu shuddered again. This time harder. As if some strange force threw his body. He curled into a ball and gripped his ears to cut off all the loud sounds.

-Yuanwu? -you whispered- Please, say what's-...

-Too late.

A shiver went through your spine. Something in those words and his tone made your blood run cold. But you still didn't move away. On the contrary, you covered him with your body and hugged tightly.

Yuanwu began to shuffle and pull away. But you were stronger, more desperate.

-Let go! I will hurt you - he groaned with difficulty, before his voice got replaced with loud growls and screams of pain.

Agony, as if someone was tearing him apart.

-Not a chance

You gripped him even tighter. Squeezed your eyes shut and waited.

You thought it was just an ordinary convulsionof person in fever. That it would pass soon.

Until it didn't. Until his limbs began to bend in different directions. Until blankets began to tear. Until you felt rough hairs under your fingers.

Something like… fur?

You felt a punch. With a loud thump you fell on the floor. He pushed you away.

More gasps, groans. Cries in indescribable pain.

Finally, a loud howl.

You pulled yourself up, trying to sit up. You rubbed your eyes and looked ahead.

You couldn't believe in what you were seeing.

In front of you, there was a hunched over Yuanwu. Or at least someone who looked like him. He was bigger. More muscular. Naked. But not quite. His torn clothes were replaced by silvery fur, similar to his natural hair color.

You weren't sure what you had just experienced.

Yuanwu looked at you with a frightened and troubled gaze. His eyes, though currently more of a predator than Yuanwu himself, showed a fearful look. Scared of being judged.

-What-… -you quickly corrected yourself- who-…. who are you?

Yuanwu whimpered, letting out the first tears.

You ran out of breath. Why- why was he crying?

-I know that I am a monster. But please, please, can you not leave me? -he threw out pleadingly in a moment of weakness.

Who had hurt him so much to bring such a large, reserved man to this state?

-Please?

His breaking voice tore your heart.

You didn't think twice. You pushed back in a sudden surge of energy and once again threw yourself with a hug on Yuanwu. Your Yuanwu.

You didn't wait for explanations. You didn't need assurances. You didn't even think that Yuanwu could hurt you.

The only thing you wanted to do at that moment, in all this chaos, was to keep him safe.

BONUS:

Liuxian Teahouse was famous for its openness to all four-legged friends. Yuanwu knew this very well, and that's why at first he chose exactly that teahouse.

Whenever he was there he didn't miss a chance to feed his beloved cats. And each time this happened, it greatly amused you. Whenever man approached bowls, cats hissed jumped straight and ran away in a hurry. Leaving Yuanwu with a disappointed look.

However, he never gave up. Poured food to the brim and removed himself into the shadows.

Whenever he left, animals returned. And he, sipping hot tea at the bar, dreamily admired the fluffy creatures who happily ate.

In the past, you were truly fascinated with the idea of cats disliking such a kind man.

Now you knew their secret.

[bearsandbeansart]

Even more thoughts.

So looking back at my first post about Avatar!Jet, I realize I had his second element being earth, but I quite like the idea of the first time he bends a different element, that Katara is there to witness it, because it would help propel Jet forward to learn more. If he organized the Freedom Fighters knowing he was the Avatar but relying on anything but bending, I don't see him actually moving forward and kicking Fire Nation butt like he wants to.

Anyway.

Katara would want Jet to come to the North Pole with them because hey, water ending buddy, plus she's got a crush on him. And, when the Freedom Fighters learn Jet could waterbend, I could see Smellerbee encouraging Jet to go learn how to waterbend. That skill would be super useful, if he could just, you know, learn how to use it.

I think Jet would keep the fact that he's the Avatar a secret though. That's big, real big. Scary big, and he doesn't even know what to think about it. So he keeps it to himself and agrees to go learn how to waterbend with Katara, much to Sokka's dismay.

Smellerbee is left in charge of the Freedom Fighters when Jet leaves.

Trying to figure out how Sokka and Katara figure out that Jet is the Avatar, and I've got two ideas. The first is that he also accidentally earthbends around them, maybe while fighting some Fire Nation soldiers they cross somewhere. The second, which I think is more fun, is if they cross paths with Zuko.

Obviously, Zuko would be on the hunt for the Avatar, that doesn't change. I'm torn between if he knows he's looking for an EK Avatar or if the Fire Nation hadn't known that one of the waterbenders they killed in the South Pole was the Avatar. It could be fun if he is tracking Katara, thinking she must be the Avatar, but I do think it's less likely than him knowing he has to find an EK Avatar.

Either way, he's looking for an Avatar and his path crosses with Jet, Katara and Sokka. A fight ensues, because of course it does (it's Jet and Zuko, how could there not be a fight), and in it, Jet does a bit of water bending with Katara. But, in the heat of it all, he also ends up firebending right back at Zuko.

(obviously his firebending sucks because he hasn't had any training and has been focusing more on how not to firebend, so it isn't impressive, but it still happens)

So everyone- Zuko, Katara, and Sokka- finds out at the same time who Jet is. Zuko now has a much more tangible goal, and now it feels much more important to get Jet to the North Pole to learn how to water end properly.

(side note- not sure if it would come up, because I don't know how much Sokka, Katara, or Jet would know about how Avatars are supposed to learn the elements in a specific order, but if it does, I don't think Jet would be concerned. After all, to everyone's knowledge, all the Air Nomads are dead and it's not like there's anyone to teach him air ending anyway so who cares about the order?)

I think Jet would have a sort of inner struggle with being the Avatar. He wants to help others, and abstractly, being the Avatar sounds awesome because the Avatar is supposed to be like the most bender ever. But Jet doesn't feel powerful. He's hidden his ability to firebend his whole life, he's hated firebenders and feared them. It's second nature to push it down and pretend it doesn't exist. He knows he's the shit with his tiger blades, but bending just feels so foreign to him.

And how is he supposed to fight off firebenders if he could be counted among them, even if it's as the Avatar? He hates them and wants to be as unlike them as possible. To be a fully realized Avatar, he will have to accept that part of him, which is probably the hardest thing he will ever have to do.

Having more thoughts about Avatar!Jet.

Fire may have been his first element that he bends, but water will be the second, and much, much later in life. Katara and Sokka end up crossing his path like they do in the show; they're traveling up to the North Pole so that Katara can learn how to properly waterbend (and Sokka is begrudgingly with her because, yeah, her silly magic water is silly, but if his sister is going to go to the other side of the world to find a teacher, he's going with her to keep her safe). Jet charms Katara, as usual, and, as usual, takes her over to the reservoir to have her bend the water. He is fascinated by her movements, being a bender himself, and kind of mimics her a little- not to try to firebend, more almost absentmindedly, just getting a feel for the motions. And, to his and Katara's surprise, he waterbends.

Katara is excited- she's never met another waterbender before. But Jet is freaking out. He knows he's a firebender. He's definitely a firebender who also just did some waterbending, which can only mean one thing. So while Katara is rambling on about how amazing and exciting it is and how he must be part water tribe, Jet is trying to figure out what on earth he is supposed to do now that he knows he's the Avatar.

[phatcatphergus]

Someone pull Pinterest out of my hands, I almost started crying at this image

[killerpancakeburger]

Thinking about a Reader who ends up having Scary Dog Privileges with Ghost without meaning to. It just happened.

Then they have to deal with the fact that this comes with duties too.

Tags: civilian!reader, gn!reader, mostly fluff, a bit suggestive, smug!Ghost, smooth!Ghost. 800 words.

Part 2. Part 3.

When Ghost is reluctant to getting sutured in Medical after accidentally opening his stitches, grumbling he can do it himself, who does the nurse call for? Yeah, you.

She could stand her ground, after all she's used to dealing with big, whiny men, but it's much more fun to knock on your door and smile at your bewildered gaze and gaping mouth when she explains the situation in two sentences.

"Ghost's being difficult, mind taking over?" "I'm sorry, what the hell does this have to do with me?" "C'm'on, everyone on base knows he's got a soft spot for you. Don't you want to make my job easier?"

You roll your eyes and slam your hands on your desk as you get up. Groaning as you walk past her— "I'm doing this for you, nothing else, got it?"

Mumbling to yourself "you've got to be kidding me" as you barge into the sick bay. Ghost is coolly seated at the end of a bed, large as life, casual clothes as black as his mask and— oh. You weren't told the wound was on his thigh— you weren't warned that he didn’t have pants on. You can’t help it, your eyes go down, down, your lingering gaze and your flustered silence forming a confession louder than words.

A noise — a scoff or a grunt, you’re not sure — emanates from him, breaks your trance, makes you look up. The amusement in his gaze tells you he noticed your oggling— of course he did. Nothing gets past the Ghost, and you've been remarkably unsubtle. Despite the mask, you swear you can make out the smug smirk on his lips. His cockiness reignites your irritation. Annoyance making you bolder than you really are, you charge at him, crossing the distance between you two in a stride, stopping close— too close. He doesn't back off.

"What's wrong with you?" you snarl. "Nothin'," he retorts, imperturbable.

It's actually the first time you’re overlooking him. You may be enjoying it a bit too much. Nevermind the fact that you've had to wedge yourself between his parted legs to get there.

You frown, unconvinced by his answer.

“Did Soap contaminate you?”

Bargaining to be cleared out earlier was the Scotsman's trademark.

“Johnny throws a fit cos he hates feeling useless. That's not what I'm doing.”

A smirk stretches your lips.

“Oh, no? I'm sure your reasons are much more noble.”

“Doesn't matter. Got what I wanted anyway.”

He's way too self-satisfied for a man in his underwear.

You throw an unequivocal look in the direction of his injury.

“What you wanted? A still open wound?”

“You.”

He replied without missing a beat, as confident as usual. It is both alluring and aggravating.

“And your idea of wooing me is making me upset?”

You don't add “because if it is, that's really fucking stupid” out loud, but you’re sure he got the message through your tone.

“Nah. But you're more honest when you’re angry. Gutsier.”

You only realize he slipped his index and middle fingers in your trouser loops when he sharply tugs at them. Off balance, you steady yourself by catching his shoulders.

Taking advantage of the strip of bare skin between your shirt and bottoms, the pads of his thumbs idly stroke your hip bones. The contact sends electricity through you, shivers of pleasure running down your sides.

“Ghost,” you start, severe, trying not to let the effect his touch has on you show in your voice.

“Simon,” he counters, surly. “Told ya it's Simon when we're alone, didn't I?”

He did, but you didn’t think he was serious. If that's what it takes to get him to listen… you’ll play by his rules.

“Simon. What's the rest of your brilliant plan? I'm here, but I can’t stitch you up.”

“How ‘bout a deal. I'll stop resisting… for a price.”

You raise an amused eyebrow.

“What kind of price?”

“A kiss.”

You snort. You didn’t believe him capable of something so… puerile.

“With the mask on?”

He doesn't move a muscle to get rid of it.

“Take it off.”

You usually wouldn’t obey what sounds like an order so easily, but it's the first time you get to touch the skull. Slipping two fingers between skin and cloth, you slowly roll up the mask all the way under his nose.

You gently trace the scars surrounding his lips. Then, the second you feel him relax, grip on your hips slackening and intensity of his gaze waning, you grab the bottom of his mask and drag it back down vigorously, making the holes for the eyes land way too low for him to see anything.

“If you thought you'd get a reward for acting out, you've got another think coming.”

[infiniteglitterfall]

know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!

hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.

I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.

It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.

Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.

It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.

(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."

Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.

Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.

People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.

(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.

I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.

She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.

And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.

He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.

He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.

I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.

But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.

It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.

(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)

(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.

We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.

People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.

Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.

3,000,000.

Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.

Five times as many.

That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:

Here's a non-paywalled link to it:

https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates

Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:

Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.

You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.

They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)

[notmeowse]

That AMA marks the end of Dragon Age.

In my opinion.

I'll start by saying that I have played all 3 of the previous games repeatedly, I've loved the series for 15 years, more than half my life. These games inspired me to become a writer and they've shaped a lot of my tastes and interests in shows and writing -- to say they were formative is kind of an understatement. Don't want to go on and on about how much I loved them, that's not the point here.

I didn't care for Veilguard for pretty much all of the reasons people have already discussed at length on Reddit and Tumblr. The writing is comprehensively bad, the romances are easily the worst Bioware has written by pure virtue of having the most cookie-cutter pacing and shallow characterization I've seen across their games, the lore has been shafted in every direction, and the nuanced storytelling and roleplay I came to expect from the series has been taken out back and shot in the head.

All, apparently, in the name of a "clean slate". It seems to me that, rather than familiarizing himself with the existing lore of the game he took the creative reins on, Epler clearly had a vision for Dragon Age (or perhaps a different IP entirely) in his head that he decided to transplant into the game (and possibly Trick? But they've said so little beyond defending their work that I can hardly theorize what direction they were coming from). That being a sanitized, wildly self-contradicting, morally absolute shitshow focused on distancing itself from the previous games as much as possible. Now, I know it's unrealistic to blame one person entirely, and I don't blame him entirely. Corinne was there. Trick was there.

But if it wasn't already evident from the numerous interviews Epler's given on the game as well as his participation in the Q&A's (while the actual lead writer of the game has been completely absent in not just the marketing, but in most fan-related interaction pre and post-launch outside of BSKY), this AMA seems to have confirmed, more than anything else, that Epler doesn't understand the game nor does he understand its audience. Neither does Corinne Busche, who despite being Game Director for only the last two years of development, has been answering lore questions a) like she has any fucking clue and b) like she thinks Dragon Age is a cozy-gamer IP, meant to appeal to people that want uplifting stories with uncontroversial characters, morally upright heroes, and unquestionably evil villains.

So as of today's AMA, I think I've finally had enough. We're just outright retconning the lore in Reddit AMA's now, I guess. Among other things. I'll provide a few examples, just so we're all on the same page.

This was part of Epler's response to why Solas didn't have his cult following in the game (insert "We Kind of Forgot" meme here):

Solas' experience leading the rebellion against the Evanuris turned him against the idea of being a leader. You see it in the memories - the entire experience of being in charge ate at him and, ultimately, convinced him he needed to do this on his own. And his own motivations were very different from the motivations of those who wanted to follow him - he had no real regard for their lives or their goals. So at some point between Trespasser and DATV, he severed that connection with his 'followers' and went back to being a lone wolf.

The fact that this (the not caring bit) directly contradicts the writing in the actual game is absolutely INSANE to me, moreso than the lack of Solas's spy network (which he apparently carried with him for 10 years only to conveniently drop right before the ritual? Because he clearly had them research Rook?). But in regards to the not caring -- here's a line from Solas's memory of killing Mythal in Veilguard, which. I'll get to Mythal in a minute:

Why should I not tear down the Veil, and bring back immortality to all the elven people? They deserve it!

Which is it? Does Solas care about the people he's saving (the venn diagram of people he's saving vs. the people following him is surely a circle, i.e. elves) or not? Does he even care about the spirits trapped behind the Veil anymore or is it just convenient to abandon them and have him only care about elves, now? What happened to saving The People? What happened to him not identifying as an elf in his conversations with a Dalish Inquisitor? And what the absolute fuck happened to him wanting to bring back the magical marvels (that the ancient elves did in fact achieve) that were greater than anything we see in Thedas today? Here's what Epler has to say about elven magic, now:

I do agree that the elves have had their place in the sun at this point. [...] The thing about the Evanuris is that, ultimately, they were able to take a very specific type of magic and shape it into doing what they wanted. But even their understanding of magic was only skin deep [...] Even the magic that Tevinter wields, the magic of the Southern mages, is different from what the Evanuris used. The magic of the Evanuris is powerful but it's sterile, and it's constrained. So while the Evanuris have made magic work in a way that's more predictable and understandable, it's not the only kind of magic out there, and even then, I'd say they understood it at a very surface level. People were confidently describing how the natural world worked back in the 16th century. Very few of them were right.

First of all, Tevinter has been stated in previous games to have clumsily adapted ancient elven magic for their own, but they did adapt it. To the point where even Solas is surprised that Corypheus achieved effective immortality -- by binding himself to a dragon the same way the Evanuris did. So, cool, more contradicting the lore here. "They understood it at a very surface level" you mean when all of the magic of the Fade wasn't locked behind the Veil? You mean when magic flowed freely through the world? What do you mean, Surface Fucking Level? The entire point of the Dalish elf culture is what they lost; this wasn't the ancient elves thinking the sun revolved around the earth, the Veil was their fucking Library of Alexandria burning. Oh my god. I still cannot believe he said this.

And how have the elves had their day in the sun? I'm sorry, was Arlathan not given to... the Veil Jumpers? Instead of the Dalish? What happened to all the Dalish clans in the south, who had no infrastructure when the world was apparently blighted to hell? I guess they're just gone now! They've had their day! The story of the Dalish and the Evanuris is over (also confirmed in this AMA), and it apparently ends with the final snuff of the candle that is their culture. Congratulations, Chantry, you've won! Only took two genocides and a double blight, but we're done with the Dalish now! We get your mind-numbingly superficial factions instead!

What happened to Mythal, by the way? What happened to "She was betrayed as I was betrayed, as the world was betrayed! Mythal clawed and crawled her way through the ages to me, and I will see her avenged!" What happened to the reckoning that will shake the very heavens? John's answer to this:

People grow and change over time. Mythal's essence - and in particular, the fragment of her spirit that Morrigan carries, that she got from Flemeth - is not the same Mythal who he knew millennia ago. Centuries of living in this world and being around the kinds of people Flemeth found herself around - the Hero of Ferelden, Hawke, the Inquisitor - changed her views, and made her realize her own culpability in turning Solas into the kind of person he is now.

Oh, right, okay. So she was pissed for like a thousand years, got her big speech about the impending "reckoning" out 10 years ago, and then she just chilled out because the last 3 heroes were neat people. What a fucking joke. And yes, here is the confirmation that the Evanuris story is over --

The story of the Evanuris is done - the gods are dead (or imprisoned) and Thedas is in a state of flux and uncertainty. I imagine that whatever happens next is going to be a surprise to everyone, including the people of Thedas."

So I guess Mythal's reckoning is never coming. One of the most fascinating characters in the series, shrouded in mystery for those first 3 games, PROMISING US a blaze of glory, only to fizzle out in this one. Again, and I can't emphasize this enough, for Epler's clean fucking slate. And we've not just tied up her story, but also the Veil and the Blight:

When Solas bound himself (or, depending on your ending, was forcibly bound) to the Veil, it severed the connection that the Blight had to the waking world. The reality is that the Veil has been leaking ever since the Magisters first entered the Black City, and the dreams of the Titans gave it its terrible and awesome power. Now that the Veil is fully repaired, the Blight lacks that motive force, and being so close to the epicenter of that change has stripped the Blight in Minrathous of its vitality. It's calcified now - dead - and Bellara/Neve no longer suffer its effects. If they'd been anywhere else, further from that epicenter, it would've likely been different and they still would be looking for a cure.

So the Veil is permanently fixed now because our half-dead Dread Wolf bound himself to it (a decision I still don't understand) and that somehow fixed every single hole ever poked in it. Fully repaired. No more holes, no more "Veil is thin here" because tons of people died in the same spot, nope, we're washing our hands and leaving it (and the spirits) behind us because we've wrapped up both the series-long Veil storyline and the blight storyline in a big red bow.

And Epler tells us Solas not only bound himself to the Veil but fixed it entirely in one fell swoop, no ritual required, just a little slice to the hand. Again, all in the name of a clean slate, so any future installments or media centered around Thedas can turn away from this story.

Then there's this. What we can expect from future installments, I freaking guess. The aforementioned roleplay getting taken out back and shot:

Q: "What lead you to the decision to step away from active conversations with the companions as in previous Bioware games, where you can initiate them at any moment and ask exhaustive questions?"

John: "For us, because of tech limitations, it became a choice between exhaustive investigate conversations, or letting the companions move more freely around the Lighthouse. With the kind of experience we were going for, one where seeing the team grow around you is paramount, we felt that seeing them interact in common spaces (and in each other's rooms) made more sense."

Literally confirmed that they chose companions moving freely about the cabin over ... interacting with them outside the handful of cutscenes we got. Who in their right mind would think this was a good call in a Dragon Age game? A series that quite literally prides itself on complex character interactions and storytelling? So they could... sit in different places? Are you kidding me?

They don't see an issue with the game's reception. They don't have any interest in addressing or responding to criticism. They're either happy with their choices or EA's got a gun pointed at their heads, I'm honestly not sure anymore. I used to believe the latter was true, but looking at both Epler's and Busche's responses today, I'm inclined to believe the former.

So I think that's it for the series. Not that I thought it was going to get another game after this, but on the absolute off chance it did, what would be the point? The best stories were ruined. Anything left they have to tell is going to read a lot like Veilguard -- superficial, morally absolute, flagrantly disrespectful to the lore, and delivered in a very poorly written package.

[wonryllis]

✴ DID I RIZZ YOU UP? HOT THINGS THEY DO.

𝑜𝑓. enhypen unintentionally using rizz like it's their second nature contains. fem!r, fluff, kinda suggestive pg 15. wc. 648, 90 something each check out. the d𝒾rectory? stat. my fogged up brain.

𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖥𝖫𝖠𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖠𝖳 𝖭𝖤𝖵𝖤𝖱 𝖶𝖠𝖭𝖤𝖲──────𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍.

𝖫𝖤𝖤 𝖧𝖤𝖤𝖲𝖤𝖴𝖭𝖦

if there's one thing heeseung loves― it's eye contact with you. staring at your eyes, taking in every detail on your face, every expression you make; you name it. he loves knowing exactly how you are feeling in the moment, loves reading the silent words bouncing right off your pretty eyes. and that is precisely why he more often than not grabs your jaw or lifts your chin and says,"look at me," his gaze boring into yours, sometimes trailing off and focusing on your parted lips and squished cheeks.

𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖪 𝖩𝖮𝖭𝖦𝖲𝖤𝖮𝖭𝖦

to jay the feel of your ass and thighs on his own is the best feeling in the world. the warmth of your skin reaching him through his pants when you are wearing something short. the pride, the possiveness, the sense of contentment― it flatters his vanity. his girl, on his lap. always manspreading and patting his thigh to offer his lap as a seat. whether within the walls of privacy or right in the middle of a room full of friends, he is always apt, way too eager under a mask of poise.

𝖲𝖨𝖬 𝖩𝖠𝖤𝖸𝖴𝖭

is he even your jake sim if doesn't have his hand on you at any and all points of time? not touching you is a living nightmare for him. every chance he gets, he has his hand on your thighs― at all times, caressing and squeezing. when he has you against his chest, holding you by your waist; he squeezes. when you are cuddling, cozied up together; he caresses. when you are in the midst of a family dinner, under the table; he caresses and squeezes. it's like a habit, a primitive tendency.

𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖪 𝖲𝖴𝖭𝖦𝖧𝖮𝖮𝖭

sunghoon revels in control, being in charge, wearing the pants in the situation. it's like a part of his personality, the hottest thing about him that he probably has no idea of. and that just makes it hotter. never realizing how dominant he sounds and looks when he merely tells you "come here" or simply pulls you by your waist. never using too much words, just lucid commands and prompt actions. not caring about where and when, only aware of the fact that he wants you near him and as quick as possible.

𝖪𝖨𝖬 𝖲𝖤𝖮𝖭𝖶𝖮𝖮

98% of the times, sunoo is a sweet saccharine boyfriend. always making sure you are the most comfortable person in the room, being the little cozy space of your life. but even a yang has a yin in it at it's strongest. and that's kim sunoo, cornering you into things when he has something serious to discuss. rolling up his sleeves and brushing back his hair as his voice gets deeper and the smile vanishes off his eyes. a person so in contrast to your usual boyfriend but so hot.

𝖸𝖠𝖭𝖦 𝖩𝖴𝖭𝖦𝖶𝖮𝖭

this guy has no cool when you are on your feet. he just has to be the one to escort you around, help you with things, make sure you do not have to use too much energy. always having his hands on your hips while he guides you along. a normal date in the neighborhood or a vacation overseas, an empty alley or a crowded street― crowded room even, right infront of everyone. jungwon just wants you to shut your brain down when you are with him, to let him do it all for you.

𝖭𝖨𝖲𝖧𝖨𝖬𝖴𝖱𝖠 𝖱𝖨𝖪𝖨

one thing riki can't ever hate about being tall is getting to tease the shit out of you. but one thing he always does with no intentions to fluster you is lean down to hear you, face closing in on yours in a stare. his already deep voice going a tone lower as he grows serious, all ready to hear whatever you have to say. your words mean business to him― absolute vip business. sometimes even crouching down when you are seated, eyes trained on your face like “yeah baby? what is it?”

taglist 。open! @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @ro-diaries @aaa-sia @enhabooks @criminalyun @oddracha @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @jayjw16enxp

[morganbritton132]

I love Only Child Steve Harrington but I do also really like the idea of him having older siblings that are a lot older than him so he’s basically an only child. Like he was a save the marriage baby.

His parents are checked out because they’ve already raised children and are a few years out from retiring. Steve feels like a constant failure because he’s being compared to grown adults that are all established in their life. Three of his nieces are older than him.

No one ever remembers that he has siblings until after Billy beat the shit out of him and Hopper forced him to go to the hospital. A nurse cheerfully informs him that they called his brother which - “Fuck, Hopper. Get me out of here. I don’t want to deal with that.”

If they called Jason then he definitely called Claire and if Claire was called then she called Richie because he’s the only one who can ever get ahold of Dad, and “-please, Hop. It’s going to be so annoying.”

“Didn’t know you had a brother.”

“I don’t. I have an annoyance that-“

Steve’s kinda expecting Claire to show up first because she works in the hospital, but they can hear Richie before they see him. He’s threatening to sue the hospital, sue the police, sue Steve-

“You can’t sue me for getting hurt.”

“Child endangerment,” Richie says. “You endangered a child by being, I’m sure, an idiot. I’d make the charge stick.”

“You can stick it up your- ow!” Steve flinched when Jason jabbed his fingernail into the stitches in his forehead. “Hopper, I’m being assaulted.”

“Since you have an adult here, I’m going,” Hopper says, abandoning him. “Good work tonight, Harrington. You did good.”

Steve can’t even articulate how much he’d rather go round two with Billy than be here but Hopper’s gone and Claire is apparently two floors up helping to deliver a baby, and, “Don’t tell Mom about this.”

“Already called her.”

[freyito]

ꜱᴘᴀʀᴋꜱ ꜰʟʏ

✭ pairing(s): boothill x gn reader

✩ inspo: BOOTHILL DAY!!!

★ summary: Boothill tends to be a little clingy when he's charging, cause he has nothing to do! C'mon, kiss him! Nothing'll happen, he promises!

✧ a/n: happy belated boothill day :')... i currently have him e5s1 but im going for e6, i might try and get s2... if you havent gotten boothill yet, may you all be boothill havers!!!!

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, short n sweet, proofread

✎ wc: 1k

Boothill has nothing to do when he’s charging, especially when he’s at home. Which should be a blessing, he doesn’t have to sit in the middle of nowhere for at least two hours. You could get him all sorts of things to keep himself occupied at home, cards, board games, pull up some old western, and he’d still complain about how bored he is.  Not to mention, he’s especially clingy. He protests if you leave his sight for a second.

You had gotten home after a long day of work, tired out and aching. Boothill was on the couch, face down, grumbling about something while charging. He just looks sooooo miserable, hair cascading over his face, messy, as if he had just woken up from a nap. He kicks his feet like a kid, the motion occupying him.

Yet when he hears you come home, his head pops up like a dog, and if he was one, his tail would be wagging. His face lights up immediately and pushes his hair to the side, running his fingers through it and petting it down to make sure he doesn’t look like too much of a mess. You don’t get a chance to complain about your day before he’s beckoning you closer, cursed by the distance between you two and his damn charging cable.

“C’mere,” Boothill’s sheepish smile is quickly replaced with that confident toothy grin you’ve come to know as home. “I’ve been soooo lonely, buttercup…”

Boothill could support you on his own easily, you wouldn’t have to work a day in your life, but you still chose to work, to give you some semblance of normalcy. There was nothing wrong with some extra cash in your pocket, anyways. Even if Boothill had complained that sitting still in one place would set the IPC off on him and probably you, too. He was never home much, anyways, so you felt as if there was no need to worry.

You saunter over to Boothill, sitting down in his lap, the cowboy wrapping his arms around you near immediately. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, letting out a low hum of content. His hands roam your body, no idea what he was searching for, he just had the need to feel. He himself visibly relaxes as he does so, content to have you home and in his arms once more. You don’t have much to say– not that you need to– and simply enjoy the moment, watching as his hands glide from your hips to your stomach, before pulling you impossibly closer and squeezing you like you were a teddy bear.

“Missed you…” He mumbles once more, leaning over your shoulder and trailing kisses down your cheek, enjoying the warmth of human skin once more. If you were to point out how clingy he was, he’d adamantly deny the fact, yet would still find a way to get all up in your DNA.

Slowly, he trails the kisses from your cheek to your lips, and when your lips meet, sparks fly, literally. Or atleast, it feels like it. You pull away abruptly with a small ‘ow’, placing a hand over your mouth. Boothill gives you a confused and dejected look, before the lightbulb goes off in his head.

“What? Am I… electrifyin’?” He asks with a heavy voice, laden with exhaustion (can he even feel that?) and mirth. You can’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at the silly pun, and he leans in for another kiss. You try to avoid it, but he catches you, and places another shocking kiss on your lips. After several more, you manage to wrench yourself free from his grip pushing yourself off of him. “Awh, c’mon! Don’t just–”

“Nuh uh,” You shush him, crossing your arms, turning your head, and pouting. “I’ll kiss you after you finish charging.”

“Wait, c’mooon!” Boothill starts, sitting up from the couch and reaching for you. His hands graze over your shoulder, yet he was unable to move further due to the limits of his charging cable. You took one teeny tiny step back so you were just out of reach. “Don’t do this, baby! Pleaaase!”

Boothill begs you like you were breaking up with him, he’s one step away from getting on his knees and groveling for you to come back… as in step closer. He does his best to give you puppy eyes, but the most that does is unsettle you a little, the way his eye locks on with you and glowing a faint red. All you do is stand there and watch, taking another step back.

“Fudge…. c’mon, c’mon, c’mon…! Ain’t I just the sweetest?” He desperately pleads his case, as if you being in his arms is the only way he could possibly live. “I won’t kiss you ‘til I’m done charging! I swear! Just let me hold you? Pretty pretty muddle-fudgin’ please?”

His pleas fall on deaf ears as you turn on your heels to leave him whining and grumbling, deciding that you would like to make dinner. Perhaps wind down a little after work, maybe read a book… all things Boothill tried to protest, but ultimately, after ten minutes of you in the kitchen making yourself food, he finally went quiet.

When you come out of the kitchen, bowl of pasta in hand, he’s sitting on the couch with his arms crossed, pouting like a child. He was muttering things to himself, some that you caught which were curses, sometimes your name, and other words. When you come into the living room, he turns his head and gives you the silent treatment for once. You don’t mind this, sitting down on an armchair across from him, eating your food in silence.

Boothill can’t stay silent forever, nor can he wallow forever. Only after five minutes of you being there, he breaks, staring you down with his attempt at puppy eyes once more. Charging takes forever, and he wants to have you in his arms now. He can run on 40% battery for a little while, anyways. He unlatches the charging cable and practically runs over to you (over such a short distance…), cupping your cheek and tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

“One more kiss? Pretty pretty please? With a cherry on top?”

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[makismei]

(18+) thinking about nanami as your kouhai at your shitty corporate job. three years younger than you and fresh to the office, but he’s almost on par with your work ethic.

it’s so attractive, you think, handsome and capable. he doesn’t even complain about the shitshow company! but nanami has gained popularity, amongst the female workers especially.

during a work dinner, you watched as women surrounded him. so you laugh with your other coworkers, trying to ignore the jealousy stirring in your gut.

he’s younger than you! you try to reason with yourself. nanami doesn’t want to date an old lady! you think. it might only be by three years, but after having a horrible dry spell in your love life, you have no idea what to do with yourself.

later that night, though. nanami clearly knows what to do with you.

he fucked you so well that you couldn’t even do anything but take it. legs over his shoulders, forehead pressed against yours, he rammed his hips into you like no tomorrow.

“i’m sorry,” he breathes, playing with your hair as you try to catch your breath. “i should’ve properly taken you out first.”

“well,” you pout, meeting his eyes. “i’m free on friday after work.”

he smiles, “i’ll pick you up at 7:30.”

you both decide to keep your relationship secret to your coworkers. you can’t lie, it’s frustrating seeing women clobber all over your painfully handsome and younger boyfriend, but you always let it slide because nanami is quite excellent at not making you feel insecure.

a few months go by and your company decides to collaborate with another. you’re put in charge of the team representing your company and you’re not surprised to find out you’re working with nanami.

but you are surprised when your ex boyfriend is the team leader for his company.

it’s uncomfortable, he’s flirty with you and no matter how many times you turn him down, he still makes advances. tucking your hair behind your ear, bringing you coffee, making you stay alone in the meeting room with him to discuss team leader things…

nanami is irked, two coffees in hand as he watches you smile uncomfortably at the other man. thank god the meeting room walls are glass, he thinks. he would’ve tore them all down if they weren’t.

he has to be rational. he can’t embarrass you and make the company look bad. but god, he’s so frustrated. he’s jealous. he’s jealous of your history with him. clearly, you don’t like him so he doesn’t need to worry, but has that man seen you like he does?

one way to find out.

“k-ken!” you cry, back arching and legs tensing. calves thrown over his shoulders, he continues ramming into you. “oh my god!”

you’re moaning carelessly, clawing at his arms that are on your waist. liquid splashes on his lower tummy and he continues fucking you through it.

nanami groans. “keep going, baby.”

he feels you try to angle your hips, like you’re running away from his thrust. arms locking around your legs, he thrusts into you with a new fervour.

“don’t move your hips away, my love.” he breathes.

“it’s too much!” you shake your head and he replies by pinching your clit. you scream, body shaking as he forces you to ride out your high.

he cums, thick and sticky inside of you. he groans, eyes almost rolling back. “squeezing me so well, baby.”

when he pulls out, his cock is still hard and so heavy. it hangs between his legs, chest rising and falling rapidly as he plays with the mess between yours.

he’s different today, you think, eyes lidded. he’s usually gentle, but this side of him… you can get used to this.

you turn on your stomach, trying to kneel but nanami tugs your ankles, keeping you flat on your tummy.

shaking your ass, you look over his shoulder and meet his gaze. “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

he pushes into you and your first instinct is to raise your head, but nanami pushes you down, plowing into you. his thrusts are heavy, hitting your sweet spot so accurately that you’re seeing stars.

he grabs your jaw, kissing you. “don’t cry,” he whispers, “don’t you feel good?”

“so good!” you reply, vision blurry. “i… i think i’m gonna cum again!”

you heard him chuckle and makes you clench on him momentarily. “you are.”

teary eyed and drool spilling from your mouth, nanami litters kisses on your cheeks and lips, finding it addicting that you’re unable to reciprocate.

“do i make you feel good?” he questions, eyebrows pinching together as he feels his release near.

you nod, moaning uncontrollably.

he grabs your jaw a bit tighter. “can i have words baby?”

“y-yes!” you slur, “it’s only yo—ooohh!”

with his chest pressing against your back, he ruts into you sloppily. hands finding a new home beside your head, while his lips brush over your shoulder.

you squeal, fisting the bedsheets and legs quivering. you’re stuffing your face into his pillow, sobbing with pleasure when you hear nanami groan. his teeth lightly sink into your shoulder as he cums inside, pushing his release deeper with a few short strokes.

he rolls off of you and you turn to face him, tentatively, he reaches to brush your hair from your eyes. “i’m sorry, i was too rough, wasn’t i?”

you hum, “no, i liked it.”

nanami chuckles, knuckles brushing against your cheek. “good to know.”

you lay in silence for a bit, breaths slowly syncing with one another’s. nanami’s eyes flutter closed and you reach out to hold his face. he hums, a smile creeping it’s way to his lips.

your warmth. the love he has for you. it’s swallowing him whole and he’s gladly letting it happen.

“you don’t have to worry about him, you know.” you breathe, “he’s a nuisance but he’s not an idiot—he was actually teasing us because he saw how pissed off you were when we were in the meeting room.”

his eyes slowly open, “i’m sorry. i know i don’t have to worry,” he pauses and your thumb gently rubs against his cheek. “truthfully, i’m jealous of his history with you. i wish that it was me instead.”

you breathe a laugh, “you did not want to be with the me that dated him—i was horrible, you would’ve hated me.”

his brows furrow. “what do you mean?”

“i used to always be upset, i was full of anger. my previous relationships were so,” you ponder on the right words, “lonely and transactional.”

you prop yourself up on your arm, looking down at him. “you love so gently and truthfully, i wonder if the current me really deserves you.”

nanami pouts, watching your lip wobble and tears well in your eyes. “that’s nonsense. i believe you were just seeing the wrong people.”

you laugh tearfully, he continues. “you are deserving of a love that is gentle and true. i only ever want to cherish you in a way that uplifts you and reminds you i am someone consistent that you can rely on.”

you don’t reply, only reaching out to wrap your arms around him. face hidden in his neck, he feels tears drip onto his skin. naturally, his arms cage you to his chest, a hand rubbing your back comfortingly.

he lets you cry, not bothering with the fact you haven’t said anything. nanami takes your vulnerability as his answer instead.

only you have seen me this way.

[solxamber]

1800-Curse-Control || Lilia Vanrouge

You decide to open a hotline for curing curses with Lilia. It goes exactly how you imagined it would—maybe even a little better.

“Lilia,” you said, rubbing your temples as you leaned against the counter in Ramshackle’s disaster of a kitchen. “Grim’s eating me out of house and home, literally. If I can’t afford the repairs soon, the roof will cave in. But all he cares about is premium tuna! Do you know how much that stuff costs?”

Lilia, who was casually floating upside down for no apparent reason, looked entirely too entertained. “Ah, the plight of a homeowner,” he said, grinning. “Why not turn your misfortune into opportunity? I’ve been told I have exceptional customer service skills, and I’ve been dreadfully bored. Let’s open a hotline for removing curses!”

You blinked at him. “A hotline. For curing curses.”

“Yes, my dear beastie,” he said, flipping upright midair and landing gracefully. “Think about it! This school is crawling with fools who drink unlabeled potions, poke magical artifacts, and anger vengeful spirits just for sport. You’d be rich in a week!”

“…I hate how much sense that actually makes.”

“It’s a foolproof plan,” Lilia continued, already pulling a notepad from somewhere to scribble down ideas. “I’ll handle the exorcisms and the cackling, naturally. You, my dear entrepreneur, can be the charming face of the operation. We’ll call it—hmm—‘Curse-B-Gone.’”

“Absolutely not.”

“Fine, ‘Hex Hotline.’”

You considered it. On one hand, it sounded completely ridiculous. On the other hand, there was that third-year who accidentally swapped his voice with a frog’s last week and the freshmen who kept mysteriously sprouting feathers.

“…How much are we charging?”

“Ah-ha! I knew you’d come around!” Lilia said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s see, we’ll need tiers. Minor hex removal? Hundred thaumarks. Major curses—hair-growing hexes, spontaneous transformation curses—those will start at Five Hundred.”

“And what about something, like, really bad? What if someone’s whole body turns into a pumpkin or something?”

“That’s a premium package. One thousand thaumarks.”

You nodded slowly. “Okay. Okay, I’m in. But if this flops, you’re buying Grim’s tuna for the next month.”

Lilia smirked, his fangs glinting mischievously. “Deal.”

By the end of the day, you’d set up a magical hotline using some weird orb Lilia “borrowed” from the library, a vaguely threatening poster campaign across the campus (“Cursed? Hexed? A jackal-headed god show up at your dorm? Call us!”), and a suspiciously well-stocked supply of anti-curse materials Lilia claimed were “leftovers” from his youth.

You weren’t sure whether to feel excited or like you’d just signed up for the most bizarre mistake of your life. Either way, you couldn’t wait to see how this would go down.

The orb hotline rang for the first time, glowing ominously on the rickety desk in Ramshackle. You and Lilia exchanged glances.

“Answer it!” he whispered, like this was some spy mission and not a cursed customer service line.

With a deep breath, you picked it up. “Uh… Hello, this is the Cursed and Confused Hotline. How can we—”

“YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!” Ace’s voice screamed on the other end. “HE’S GOING TO KILL ME THIS TIME!”

You winced, holding the orb away from your ear. “Ace? What happened?”

“I DON’T KNOW! I WAS JUST TRYING TO MAKE TEA!”

“Okay, and?”

“And I might’ve…accidentally used that weird sugar in the Heartslabyul pantry, the one that glows in the dark? And now Riddle’s head is covered in, like…peonies. Big, pink peonies. They keep growing whenever he gets mad, which, uh, is always.”

You slapped your forehead. “You cursed your housewarden?!”

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO!” Ace wailed. “I thought it was sugar, not cursed fertilizer! Look, can you just fix this before he declares ‘off with my head’ for real?”

“Ugh, fine. Where are you now?”

“Hiding in the rose bushes. He hasn’t found me yet, but I think I heard him sharpening a guillotine.”

“Classic Heartslabyul,” Lilia said cheerfully, already packing his so-called emergency kit.

When you and Lilia arrived at Heartslabyul, it was pure chaos. Riddle stood in the center of the garden, his face as red as his hair—and also half-obscured by an explosion of giant pink peonies blooming out of his head like some cursed bouquet.

“TREY!” Riddle bellowed. “GET THE GARDEN SHEARS!”

Ace was crouched in a rose bush nearby, whispering frantically. “Please tell me you brought an anti-cursed-flower spray or something!”

You ignored him and approached Riddle cautiously. “Uh, Riddle? You’ve got—”

“I KNOW WHAT I HAVE!” Riddle shrieked, a few more flowers blooming on his head. “I demand immediate remedy! Or else—”

“We’ll fix it,” Lilia cut in, grinning like this was the most fun he’d had in centuries. “Now, let’s see…” He pulled a vial of glowing liquid from his kit. “This should do the trick.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, eyeing the suspiciously fizzing vial.

“Of course not,” Lilia said, popping it open.

He dumped the liquid over Riddle’s head without warning. The flowers immediately shriveled up and disappeared.

Riddle blinked, touching his head in astonishment. “…It’s gone?”

“You’re welcome,” Lilia said with a dramatic bow.

Ace peeked out from the bushes. “So…he’s not mad anymore, right?”

Riddle’s death glare answered that question.

“RUN!” you yelled, dragging Ace out of the garden as Riddle shouted about punishment for “sugar crimes.”

Back at Ramshackle, you slumped against the desk. “We’re never doing house calls again.”

Lilia just laughed. “Oh, but the drama! I live for it!”

The hotline orb began glowing again, pulsing with a foreboding, bluish light.

You groaned. “If this is Ace again, I swear—”

Lilia waved his hand. “Come now, it’s probably another entertaining disaster! Answer it!”

You reluctantly picked up. “Cursed and Confused Hotline. What’s your—”

“FIX. THIS. NOW!” came Azul’s shrill, panicked voice.

You blinked. “Azul? What’s—”

“I CAN’T EVEN DESCRIBE WHAT HE’S DONE THIS TIME!”

“Oh, come on, Azul!” Floyd’s voice cut in, cackling in the background. “It’s a masterpiece!”

“Masterpiece?” Azul screeched. “You flooded the dining room and filled it with—WHY ARE THERE EELS IN THE SOUP POTS?”

“Because it’s hilarious!” Floyd howled, clearly having the time of his life.

Jade’s calm voice joined in, oozing politeness as always. “To be fair, Floyd has a point. The eels are thriving in there.”

Azul sputtered like a broken faucet. “THRIVING?! THEY’RE STEALING PEOPLE’S FOOD!”

“Sounds efficient to me,” Floyd said. You could practically hear him smirking. “Dinner and a show!”

Lilia perked up. “Eels in soup pots? How creative!”

“Don’t encourage him!” Azul barked. “Do you know how much it costs to repair the water damage he’s caused? The walls are dripping! The chandelier is dripping! I AM DRIPPING!”

“That’s not cursed,” you said, trying to hide your amusement. “That’s just Floyd being—well, Floyd.”

“Oh, no, it’s cursed,” Azul hissed. “Every time I try to remove the eels, the water level rises. They’re like aquatic squatters! Fix it or I swear I’ll—”

The sound of something massive splashing cut him off, followed by Floyd’s uncontrollable laughter.

“HAHAHA! He slipped into the soup pot! Jade, did you see that?”

“I did,” Jade replied, his voice as smooth as ever. “It was quite elegant.”

“AZUL’S AN EEL NOW!” Floyd cried. “Eel bros for life, baby!”

The orb started vibrating violently.

“Get. Over. Here. Now.” Azul’s voice was barely a whisper, the tone of someone seconds away from an aneurysm.

You sighed and grabbed your bag. “Let’s go before he implodes.”

When you arrived at Mostro Lounge, it was exactly what you expected—and somehow worse. The entire dining area was flooded, eels swam lazily in the soup pots, and Azul was perched on a chair, drenched from head to toe and glaring murderously at Floyd, who was happily paddling through the water like it was his personal playground.

“Finally!” Azul barked, waving his wet hand. “Do something! Anything!”

Floyd, half-submerged in a soup pot, waved at you. “Hey! You wanna join the eel party? First rule—no rules!”

Lilia clapped his hands. “This is magnificent chaos!”

Azul groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I’ll double your pay if you fix this immediately.”

You glanced at Lilia, who was already pouring a suspiciously glowing liquid into the water.

“This should work,” he said cheerfully.

The water started to drain, the eels vanished in puffs of smoke, and the room returned to normal—except for Floyd, who now floated upside down in midair, spinning like a cursed top.

“Whoa, this is AWESOME!” Floyd laughed, twirling like a maniac. “I’m a flying eel!”

Azul sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as you said “I’m charging you extra for emotional damages.”

The hotline orb flared up again, casting a frantic purple glow. You groaned, mid-sip of tea.

“I don’t know if I can handle more insanity.”

Lilia, perched upside down on the couch, grinned. “Nonsense! Chaos keeps the heart young. Answer it!”

Reluctantly, you picked it up. “Cursed and Confused Hotline. What did you do, and how bad is it?”

“It’s me! It’s Epel!” came the desperate, whisper-shouted voice of the Pomefiore freshman. “I need your help—immediately! I’ve got the worst curse of all on me.”

“Worst curse?” you asked, frowning. “What’s going on?”

“Vil,” Epel said, voice shaking. “And Rook.”

“...Epel, those are people, not curses.”

“They are when Vil finds out I repurposed his limited-edition face mask jars as apple cider mugs for the guys in Savanaclaw!”

Lilia burst into a delighted cackle. “Oh, that’s fantastic!”

“Not fantastic! Vil’s gonna flay me alive!” Epel hissed. “And Rook’s hunting me down like a rabbit in the woods. Please, ya gotta help!”

You tried not to laugh. “How exactly do you want me to help? I can’t exactly—”

A loud thud echoed through the call, followed by Epel screaming, “He found me! NO! PUT THAT BOW DOWN!”

“Bonjour, my friend~!” Rook’s voice came through, as smooth as velvet and disturbingly cheerful. “Ah, how beautiful the chase! Like a fox cornered by the hounds, our petit pomme has finally been found!”

“ROOK, NO! DON’T HAND ME OVER!”

“Oh, petit lapin,” Rook said, unbothered, “the punishment will only make you stronger. Think of it as a trial by fire!”

“I DON’T WANT TO BE STRONGER, I WANNA BE ALIVE!” Epel shrieked.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Rook, what exactly are you planning to do with him?”

“Ah, worry not,” Rook replied. “I am but a humble messenger delivering him to justice. Vil has been most patient.”

“HE CALLED ME A PEASANT AND THREW A HEEL AT ME, THAT’S PATIENT?” Epel howled.

Lilia leaned forward, thoroughly entertained. “Rook, at least let us have a word with Epel before he meets his doom.”

“But of course!”

“HELP ME!” Epel screamed the moment Rook handed him the phone. “Distract them, hex me, I dunno, CURSE ME INTO A TREE OR SOMETHING—”

“Epel,” you said firmly, trying not to laugh, “you’re going to have to face Vil eventually. What’s the worst he could do?”

“THE WORST? Oh, I dunno, exile me to a skincare bootcamp for the rest of my natural life?”

Rook’s voice floated in. “Imagine it, petit pomme: cleansing facials, detoxifying baths, and no more cider mugs. A new you!”

“YOU STAY OUTTA THIS!”

You sighed. “I can offer one thing.”

“Anything!”

“An apology. I suggest you start practicing now.”

“An apology?! I called Vil’s collection overhyped snake oil. I’m DOOMED!”

“Not if you run fast enough,” Rook chimed in cheerfully. “Shall we test your stamina?”

The call ended with Epel’s scream, followed by the distinct sound of someone bolting at full speed.

“Well,” Lilia said, smiling. “That was worth every second.”

Jamil’s voice crackled through the orb strained and absolutely done.

"Hi, yeah, it’s me again."

You rolled your eyes. "Let me guess. Kalim tried to throw a party?"

"And Cater," Jamil growled, the sound of something crashing in the background. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to manage one chaos gremlin? Now imagine two. They’ve cursed half the dorm—random objects are coming to life, and singing. And I don’t mean pleasant singing. I mean like if a banshee and a kazoo had a love child."

Lilia leaned in beside you, eyes glittering with delight. "Oho, this sounds entertaining! What did they do this time?"

Jamil sighed deeply, as if he’d just aged ten years in the past ten minutes. "Kalim thought it would be fun to 'spice up' a party by enchanting the decorations. Cater encouraged him, saying it would make a great Magicam post. The result? The curtains are now tap-dancing, the chandelier won’t stop singing old sea shanties, and the punch bowl tried to bite me."

Lilia clapped his hands. "This sounds like an excellent way to spend the afternoon! Let’s go!"

You groaned. "Why do I have to go?"

"Because you’re the only one who can keep Lilia from making things worse," Jamil deadpanned.

Arriving at Scarabia was like stepping into a fever dream. The furniture was waltzing around the room, the ceiling fan was chanting, "Spin me right round, baby, right round," and the aforementioned punch bowl snarled at you as you walked in.

Kalim, of course, was having the time of his life, clapping to the rhythm of the furniture parade. Cater was filming everything, laughing as he tried to get the chandelier to do a TikTok dance.

"Do you see what I have to deal with?" Jamil hissed, his hair practically frazzled.

"Let’s fix this before someone dies," you muttered, pulling out the anti-curse toolkit Lilia had handed you on the way.

"Or before someone posts this to Magicam and the entire world sees it," Jamil added grimly, glaring at Cater.

It started smoothly enough—well, as smoothly as any curse-breaking session with Lilia could go. The two of you worked to unravel the enchantments while dodging flying pillows and shrieking party streamers.

Then, of course, you made the mistake of touching an enchanted lamp.

It burst into song—loud, off-key, and somehow extremely personal. The lyrics were all about your lack of a love life and questionable fashion choices. Before you could fight back, it tangled itself around your arms and legs, dragging you upward toward the chandelier.

"Hey, uh, Lilia? Little help!"

Lilia, ever the dramatic savior, leaped into action. With a mischievous grin, he sliced through the magical binds with a well-aimed spell and caught you mid-fall.

You blinked up at him, heart hammering in your chest. His crimson eyes glimmered with amusement, his fangs showing in a victorious smirk. He cradled you with an ease that shouldn’t have been possible given his stature.

"You alright there, my dear?" he asked, voice low and teasing.

"Yeah, I’m fine," you muttered, face heating up. "Just…you know…trying not to die."

But your brain wasn’t focusing on that. It was too busy processing the fact that Lilia was holding you like you weighed nothing, and you could feel your pulse quickening. Damn it, why is my heart beating so fast?

He tilted his head, studying you with an unreadable expression. "Are you sure? Your face is a bit flushed."

"Nope! Totally fine!" you squeaked, scrambling out of his arms as soon as your feet touched the ground.

Jamil, watching the whole thing from across the room, rolled his eyes. "Great. Now you’re cursed too."

"Shut up, Jamil."

It took another hour, but the dorm was finally back to normal—or as normal as Scarabia could be. Kalim apologized profusely, Cater promised to delete the footage (he didn’t), and Jamil looked like he might snap at any moment.

As you and Lilia walked out, you tried to calm your racing heart, but he leaned in with a knowing grin.

"Quite the adventure today, wasn’t it?"

"Sure," you replied quickly, hoping your face wasn’t still red.

He hummed thoughtfully. "I wonder what’s got your heart racing so much. You’re not catching feelings for your favorite partner-in-chaos, are you?"

"Not a chance," you lied, your heart betraying you with another treacherous thump.

Lilia just chuckled, and you couldn’t tell if he believed you—or if he was just letting you stew in your own embarrassment for fun.

The enchanted orb buzzed frantically, and you groaned as you reached for it. The second you accepted the call, you heard Deuce.

“HELP! WE MESSED UP BAD!”

“Deuce?” you asked, already dreading the answer. “What did you do this time?”

Jack’s voice came through, exasperated and growly. “It wasn’t just him. I was there too.”

“Great,” you deadpanned. “So, what kind of mess am I cleaning up now?”

Deuce gulped. “We, uh… were practicing some spellwork for exams—”

“Right by the Spelldrive practice field,” Jack added grimly.

Your eyes widened. “Please don’t tell me you—”

“Destroyed the field? Yeah,” Deuce admitted miserably. “But we didn’t mean to! The explosion was an accident!”

You heard a sharp, angry voice in the background: “AN ACCIDENT?! YOU DESTROYED HALF THE FIELD, YOU LITTLE—”

“Leona’s there?” you asked, already standing up.

Deuce nodded frantically. “He’s so mad. Please come before he kills us!”

“Stay put,” you said, grabbing your things. “And pray he doesn’t finish you off before we get there.”

The Spelldrive practice field was a warzone. One goalpost was completely obliterated, sand smoldered in random patches across the ground, and an entire section of the bleachers looked like it had been hit by a tornado.

Leona was standing in the middle of the chaos, arms crossed, glaring daggers at Deuce and Jack, who were huddled behind a tipped-over bench like it could save them. His team stood a safe distance away, clearly too smart to get involved.

You arrived with Lilia in tow, who was already grinning like he’d just stumbled upon the most entertaining show of the year.

“Oh, this is delightful,” Lilia mused, surveying the carnage. “It’s like an abstract painting of destruction.”

“Not helping,” you muttered, jogging toward the scene.

Leona’s sharp green eyes locked onto you. “Finally. You gonna fix this mess, or do I get to turn these two into sandbags?”

“Leona,” you said, stepping between him and the disaster twins, “We’ll handle it. Just… don’t murder them. Yet.”

Leona snorted. “You’ve got five minutes.”

Lilia hummed a jaunty tune as he began waving his hands over the destroyed sections of the field. Slowly, the sand settled, the goalpost reformed, and the bleachers stopped looking like they’d gone through a blender.

Meanwhile, you kept Leona from pouncing on Deuce and Jack, who were watching Lilia work with wide eyes.

“You two better hope I don’t find out about another ‘accident,’” Leona growled, looming over you.

“Relax,” you said, holding up a hand. “They’re idiots, not criminals. Save your energy for your team.”

Leona rolled his eyes but stepped back, muttering something about “babysitters.”

When everything was finally back in order, Lilia dusted off his hands with a satisfied smile. “That was quite fun. We should let those two cause chaos more often.”

You shot him a look. “Please don’t encourage them.”

Leona, arms crossed and clearly annoyed, stepped closer. “You’re done? Good. I’ll send Ruggie with something to pay you later.” Then he smirked, eyes flicking between you and Lilia. “Now keep your lovesick asses away from my practice field.”

Your brain short-circuited. “Wha—?! Lovesick?”

Leona just walked off with a lazy wave, leaving you standing there, half-mortified.

Lilia leaned in, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “Oh my. He really has a way with words, doesn’t he?”

“Don’t you start,” you muttered, your face burning.

But when you turned to walk away, Lilia was by your side, chuckling softly. He caught your wrist gently, pulling you to a stop for just a moment. “For what it’s worth,” he said, voice quieter and more serious, “you were quite impressive back there, keeping Leona from turning them into mincemeat.”

Your heart did a flip. “Uh… thanks?”

He let go with a grin, stepping back and returning to his usual playful tone. “Now, let’s see if we can avoid the next disaster, hmm?”

You weren’t sure if your face would ever cool down.

Potions class with the first-year gang was never uneventful. Today was no exception. The room smelled faintly of burnt caramel as Grim waved his tiny paws at Ace, who was leaning smugly on the table.

“I told you not to put that in!” Grim yelped.

“I barely touched it!” Ace shot back.

“It doesn’t matter who did it!” Sebek barked, slamming his hands on the table. “What matters is that our potion is—”

“About to blow,” Jack growled, pointing to the cauldron bubbling ominously.

“Wait—WHAT?!” you yelped, but it was too late.

The cauldron erupted, spraying a shimmering pink mist over everyone. The class erupted into chaos as Sebek shouted about “inferior techniques,” Epel coughed dramatically like he was dying, and Deuce tried (and failed) to douse the sparks with his coat.

You, unfortunately, caught the brunt of the potion to the face.

You thought the effects were mild at first—just a faint warmth in your chest and the echo of the sugary-sweet scent in your nose. But when you sat down at lunch with Lilia and Malleus, the symptoms became impossible to ignore.

Lilia was chatting animatedly, laughing at his own jokes and waving his fork in the air, while Malleus nodded thoughtfully. But you weren’t hearing a word.

Your brain had decided that the only thing worth focusing on was how kissable Lilia’s lips looked.

Wait, what?

You shook your head, trying to clear it, but it only got worse. Now you were noticing how nice his voice was. And his smile. And the way his hand brushed yours when he passed the salt—

Oh, no.

“Child of man,” Malleus said, pulling you from your internal meltdown, “you seem… distracted.”

You blinked rapidly. “Uh. Yeah. Distracted. Totally fine. Definitely not—uh—totally infatuated with Lilia or anything.”

Lilia looked up, smirking. “Oh? How flattering.”

You nearly choked on your drink. “IT’S THE POTION!”

Malleus watched you pace back and forth in the hallway, his expression somewhere between amused and curious.

“You have to fix me,” you begged, grabbing his shoulders. “This has to be the potion talking. There’s no way I just—randomly—started thinking about Lilia like that!”

Malleus tilted his head, his eyes studying you intently. “You truly believe you are under an enchantment?”

“Yes! Of course!” You gestured wildly. “I mean, it’s Lilia! He’s my partner in crime! He’s—he’s—”

“Kissable?” Malleus offered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Your hands dropped to your sides. “You are so not helping.”

He stepped closer, his presence calm but commanding, and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Very well, child of man. Allow me to assess your condition.”

Malleus leaned forward, his magic swirling faintly around him as he studied you with eerie precision.

After a moment, he straightened, folding his arms. “The potion you were exposed to was a failure. Its intended effects are nonexistent.”

You froze. “What are you saying?”

Malleus raised an eyebrow. “I am saying that you are not under a spell. Your feelings are entirely your own.”

You stared at Malleus in horror.

“So… you’re telling me… I’m not cursed?”

“Precisely.”

“And this… this whole… wanting to kiss Lilia thing…” You paused, voice dropping to a mortified whisper. “That’s just me?”

Malleus nodded sagely. “Indeed.”

You covered your face with your hands. “No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening.”

Lilia’s voice drifted from the next room. “Are you done conspiring with Malleus, beastie? Lunch is getting cold!”

You peeked through your fingers at Malleus, who looked like he was thoroughly enjoying your suffering.

“Good luck, child of man,” he said, patting your shoulder.

You groaned. “I’m going to die.”

And yet, as you returned to the table and sat down next to Lilia, who greeted you with his usual teasing grin, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

You didn’t think it could get any worse than being late for class, but that was before Grim decided to experiment with potions unsupervised. Now, you and Lilia were sprinting through the halls of NRC, dodging a cursed army of flying spoons.

“I told Grim not to use the potions lab as a snack bar!” you gasped, barely ducking as a spoon zoomed past your head with terrifying precision.

Lilia, running beside you, was grinning like this was the most fun he’d had all week. “I must admit, this is an impressive level of chaos. Even I wouldn’t have thought to curse cutlery!”

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” you panted, grabbing his arm as another wave of spoons turned the corner. “Hide!”

The two of you dove behind a nearby tapestry, pressing against the wall as the spoons zipped past, their metallic clinking fading into the distance.

For a moment, it was quiet—except for the pounding of your heart.

Your breathing slowly steadied, but your heart didn’t. Not when Lilia was so close, his eyes gleaming with excitement and his cheeks flushed from the chase.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Lilia,” you blurted, voice trembling but determined, “I’m in love with you.”

Lilia blinked, his surprise evident for a split second before a soft smile curved his lips. “Ah, I see. Was it the spoons that gave me away, or my undeniable charm?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I’m serious!”

He chuckled, gently pulling your hands away to meet your eyes. “So am I. I’ve felt the same for quite some time.”

Your breath hitched. “Really?”

“Really,” he murmured, leaning closer. His lips brushed yours, soft and fleeting, but it sent your heart racing like you were being chased by a thousand cursed spoons.

He pulled back, his grin mischievous. “Now, let’s survive this first date, shall we?”

He grabbed your hand, pulling you from your hiding spot just as the spoons began circling back like a swarm of metallic bees.

“Run!”

You laughed despite yourself, sprinting hand-in-hand with Lilia as the chaos erupted around you once more.

And yet, as you glanced at him—his hair wild, his smile unshakable, his fingers warm around yours—you couldn’t help but think:

I want this forever.

Masterlist

[afewproblems]

Having depressing Steve Harrington Whump thoughts this sunny Sunday morning.

I usually headcanon Steve's parents as being neglectful and absent given their lack of screen presence in the show and thought about Steve grappling with this throughout his childhood.

Being left alone for days and eventually weeks at a time, starting much younger than was appropriate, but it was the era of latchkey kids and Richard and Darleen Harrington assumed Steve was capable enough to not really need watching. The house never burned down.

Their son was fine.

And Steve would be the first person to agree, to smile wanely while the migraines pounded in his head, a parting gift from Billy Hargrove and the and Russians. He was fine.

It was fine.

Until the spring of 1986 when all Hell literally broke loose.

During the last events of the Upside Down and the earthquakes that almost decimated Hawkins, the Harringtons finally come back to town, horrified to be called in from Indianapolis by the charge nurse at Hawkins General Hospital.

Their relationship does get a little better after nearly losing their only son. They don't talk about it, the lost years of quality time, but Steve has made begrudging peace with it and is happy to have them around now for family dinners and the holidays.

They are even fairly good about his relationship with Eddie once he finally comes out. Richard takes a little longer to warm up to the idea, but Darleen seems determined not to lose Steve again.

And things are fine for awhile, the four of them have found an equilibrium amongst each other. Richard busies himself with offering to help with repairs around their house as needed, the leaky sink in their guest bath or the backdoor that was never hung correctly. While Darleen is always quick to bring over a new recipe for them all to try at the next family dinner.

They don't talk about the fact that this is the most home cooking Steve has ever experienced in his 30 years of life or that he didn't know his dad even owned a screwdriver.

But it's fine.

They manage.

It's only after the adoption of their daughter that Steve begins to notice the changes in his parents in a way that makes his chest feel tight.

"I just, I don't get it," Steve says quietly to Eddie one summer day. Richard and Darleen are out in the yard with Abigail, playing in the sun. Abigail shakes a flower from the garden in Richard's face while he pretends to sneeze exaggeratedly, making Abigail break into peals of laughter.

Eddie frowns at Steve, watching as he crosses his arms tightly around himself.

"There has to be something going on, it doesn't make any sense how they're being with her," Steve bites out eventually. He lifts a trembling hand to his hair and tugs harshly at the roots.

"Okay woah woah," Eddie says slowly as he stops forward and gently coaxes Steve's hands away from his hair, "Stevie, sweetheart, I don't understand".

Eddie watches as Steve's gaze travels out the window once more to see Darleen lift their giggling baby girl above her head before lowering Abigail to pepper kisses all over her cheeks. Eddie smiles at the sight but it quickly vanishes as he looks back at Steve who is looking longingly at his mother.

"Because," Steve says, his voice catches on the growing lump in his throat, "if they were always capable of this, of being there, then why couldn't they do that for me?"