#i actually don't think he's team green OR team black i think he is in fact team 'trying to write interesting characters'
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masamasaibk · 3 days ago
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A list of disorganised Ibuki HCs for my own personal pleasure:
- Has ADHD
- Skin gets tan very easily. And since he's quite the outdoorsy person, he has tan lines all the time, even in winter. Turns a few shades darker in summer like a roasted chicken
- also gets freckles on his cheeks, shoulders & arms in summer
- Very bad internal clock. Forgets to eat, drink, sleep if he's focused on something (=practicing.)
- Even worse during Galaxy because of the absence of day/night cycles and the dark room which simulates daylight all the time. He could stay locked there for hours and not notice it
- Super good memory. Makes him good at school subjects that rely heavily on memory like history and geography
- Sucks at other subjects (and doesn't care)
- typical ADHD-related sleep issues (or at least I think it's typical? I based it on mine lmao): is often more awake at night. Mind racing, can't shut his thoughts up, can't stay still. Because of that: takes a long time falling asleep, wakes up often, cannot for the life of him sleep more than 3 hours in a row. Light sleeper at night, heavy sleeper when he naps during the day
- which means he has kind of given up on sleeping full nights and prefers to take several naps a day instead
- Hair & eyes colors are natural
- The spiky lines in his eyes are pupil malformations. Had it since birth, means that he has horrible eyesight. Wears contacts all the time, has glasses but doesn't like wearing them
- he wears them in the morning / evening after showering, no one ever sees him wearing them. They're the typical basic bitch glasses that everyone wore in the 2010's. Those big, thick, black, almost squarish frames, yk? And, personal note: he looks hella good wearing them
- Actually a good cook! He learned when he was young because of his bad family situation (but that's a story for later)
- Cooks mean breakfasts >:)
- Spaces out during conversations that don't directly concern him. Definition of "no thoughts head empty only ⛹️‍♂️"
- which means he often asks what's the conclusion of the conversation when it's over. Like "okay so what does it mean in the end???" which leads people to believe he's quite airheaded (he is a little, but he also just wasn't listening. Like. Ever.)
- People take a glance at him and believe that he is your typical middle school bully / jerk
- Actually a pretty chill guy if you don't underestimate, insult, or disrespect him (the way both Shindou & Shinsuke did at first). Doesn't get angry as easily as you'd think as long as you're, like, decent to him
- Never got in a physical fight
- Doesn't like too sugary / sweet things
- Probably some sort of eating disorder. He likes eating, does it with much enthusiasm when he does, but there are some moments when he just doesn't feel like eating and he really can't force himself. Either swallows his whole plate in two bites or skips the meal altogether
- Honest to a fault. Cannot lie to save his life. Super bold, no tact, no filter
- Uses cheap, "manly", 5-in-one, toxic green shower gels. Perfect skin and hair nevertheless because that's how unfair he is
- It isn't shown in the series because of his goalkeeper roal, but he can actually run very fast! 3rd fastest person on the team after Matatagi and Tenma
- Pretty agile too, good body balance, strong arms & legs, quick reflexes; almost as dexterous as Kariya despite his height
- overall 10/10 physical skills. The same can't be said about his creative and intellectual skills though...
- but that's because he spends 95% of his awake time practicing lmao. Can't sit still on a chair or lie still in a bed. Don't ever try to make him read a book
- can either be the worst or the best listener on earth. There's no predicting which one it'll be. He'll either listen to all of your yapping and remember every tiny detail or not hear a single word you say
Will surely add more later on cause I spend my whole days thinking of him :D
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atopvisenyashill · 11 months ago
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Maybe grrm is secretly team blackfyre or team green because why are brown-haired targlings who were heirs to the iron throne losing, and it was passed down/on to white haired targlings? Kinda sus 🧐
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mediocreanomaly · 24 days ago
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Rookie.
Cecil Stedman x Reader (GN!Reader, Age Gap)
Authors Note: Yes I'm a Cecil stan. No I won't apologize. There's just something about that old man's dry humor and morally grey decision making that enraptures me.
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Cecil had stared down literal demons with a steadier pulse than this.
No, seriously, he'd experienced just about everything during his time on earth, kaijus, dead gods, alive gods, magic, mad science, fish people who, ironically, were pescatarian. Yet somehow, this is what shocks him.
“You don't want this, kid,” he sighs, pressing his fingers to his temples like he has the mother of all headaches coming on.
“You think you do, but you don't.”
The cocky mother fucker across from him just grins.
It's hard to pinpoint when exactly this had gotten so out of hand. With Rae, Rex, Rudy, Monster Girl, and Bulletproof gone, to say they were short a few guardians had been an understatement, and unfortunately, it had been Cecil who'd had to run the new tryouts. In the end only one really stood out, some local hero with the ability to steal other people's powers through touch for half an hour at a time. It wasn't much but apparently it used to be five minutes which suggested it could be extended whether that ended up being through training or the GDAs tech was yet to be determined but Cecil was desperate for a Hail Mary after his plan b and c against Mark had done jack shit and a temporary Viltrumite was as good as ever in terms of plans.
Looking back on it Cecil should have seen it from the beginning, the way the rookie had sat up straight like a dog waiting to impress its man with a trick when he'd walked in, but several of the others who'd known who he was had put on faces as well so he'd written it off as an attempt to impress.
The actual tryout had gone similarly; the little sneak had managed to get their paws on a few powers before getting into the ring and had made sure everyone knew it when a few training robots had nearly gone through the walls. Admittedly, Cecil had enjoyed the cunning; powers only got you so far if you didn't have the brains to use them, so it had been an easy call to green-light them onto the team.
Then things had gotten weird.
It had started with the training. Cecil didn't make it a habit to oversee every regimen; that's what Immortal was for, but he tried to stop in at the beginning of the month to see how the new members were settling in. When the rookie had noticed this, they'd begun showing up thirty minutes early and lingering late, purposefully trying to flaunt whatever flashy power they'd managed to snag for the session or showing off their new record for weights. Again, Cecil had begun wondering if they were attempting to brown nose their way into some higher position because it had at least become clear they were showing off for him.
It hadn't really clicked per se until a few months in when the rookie realized their golden ticket to seeing him was running reports to his office, a chore even Black Samson attempted to avoid at all cost.
Cecil should have nipped it in the bud; they'd begun overstaying their welcome as of late. He didn't do conversation, but God damn, the kid didn't give it a rest; they'd chatter on about how the guardians were, how their day had gone, about how great the GDA was. When he'd responded with varying levels of noncommittal grunts and ‘Do I look like your diary, kid?’ They'd begun a new approach.
Food, for one. Dropping off food with their reports because ‘there was no way he ate with his schedule’ which was half true but it didn't make it any easier accepting meals. Then they'd somehow managed to pick Donald's brain about interest of his and sneaking it into conversation.
‘I was just listening to Miles Davis the other day’ (they hadn't) ‘Ugh I could really go for a scotch right about now’ (they hated it)
What was worse is it had begun to work. Cecil didn't know why he hadn't told them to give it up and get the hell out of his office, if it had been anyone else he certainly would have but he was still a man at the end of the day.
It's not like he hadn't appreciated the occasional man or woman passing by before, but he was well out of his prime, not to mention too damn busy to even humor a one-night stand, much less anything regular. Besides, it's not like anyone really glanced his way these days, or they hadn't until you.
You had thrown some colossal-sized wrench into his life that he'd been trying desperately to ignore, which wasn't typically his style. Cecil was a problem solver at heart and saying ‘no’ to some green newbie on the team should have been one of the easiest decisions he'd made in a long life of hard calls. So why were you still sitting across from him and why was he still playing this game?
You pick up a stress ball off his desk that Donald had gotten him years ago (Cecil highly doubted he even remembered) and toy with it in your hands.
“You do know I'm not actually a kid right?” You retort
“You're still a kid to me, you're a third my age, rookie.” he watches the way you roll the ball between your hands, back and forth, back and forth.
“Put that down,” Cecil snaps, and you put it back on his desk, hands raised in mock surrender.
“Okay, well, I can consent is all I'm saying. Besides, you've been watching me too” you huff nonchalantly lounging against the seat.
Cecil stiffens at the accusation and sets his jaw in irritation. Watching you? Of course he had, he was the director of the GDA it was his job to watch you.
“I've been watching you because it's my job to make sure our new Guardian of the Globe isn't a liability” he answers cooly “Especially the reckless ones.”
That gets a snort out of you.
“Come on, boss, I've been on good behavior,” you say with a grin that drips with young cockiness and naivety and makes Cecil understand why he's losing hair.
It's irritating, both because you're a smug little bastard and because you aren't wrong. Cecil didn't need to look through your files or check in on the cameras to make sure you were getting on. All the reports said the same thing, a little rough around the edges in terms of discipline and skill but a very promising investment to both the team and GDA with great potential and a knack for following orders (especially when they came from Cecil himself).
“Plus-” you continue before he can lay his next words of disapproval down upon you. “-the fact you're even entertaining the conversation makes me think you're not as opposed to this as you're trying to make it seem.”
Ceci keeps his composure but internally, as much as he hates to admit it, you had a point. Despite all his reservations here the two of you were.
“Don't mistake tolerance for interest, kid.” he says a warning in his tone. “just because I'm listening to you does not mean I'm not opposed to this”
Your smile falters for a fraction of a moment before a new set of determination falls over you as you cross your arms.
“You're lying.” You cross your arms and fix Cecil with your own hard look forgetting the playful facade in favor of your own equally serious shift in mood.
“You barely let Samson talk about the weather but I get half an hour about jazz? I call bullshit.”
Cecil's eyes narrow at the accusation.
“I'm not lying I'm… omitting certain details.” He says crossing his own arms mimicking your stance, silently daring you to challenge him again.
“you mean the ones where you're interested in me?” You ask raising an eyebrow refusing to lose this little verbal tennis match.
“Interested is a strong word.” He replies cooly, but damn it all. Why did it sound like he was trying to convince himself?
“It's more… tolerating your relentless advances.”
And there it was, acknowledgment of the subject he'd been dancing around.
“Oh, so you have noticed,” you reply pleased.
Cecil fixes you with an unimpressed look, as if he could miss the outrageous peacocking that had begun to take place in his presence. His only saving grace had been the fact that no one in their right mind would guess who you were showing off for.
“That's good, I was starting to think it was going to waste.” You continue unbothered.
Cecil grits his teeth, torn somewhere between annoyance and grudging respect. The rookie had persistence if nothing else.
"How can I not notice you constantly showing off for me," he retorts "You're like a damn puppy. All eager eyes and wagging tail."
“For some reason…” you drawl leaning your elbows on his desk. “I feel like that's your type”
“My type?” Cecil lets out a short laugh, caught off guard by the audacity of the statement.
“I'm not sure you want to know ‘my type’, kid. It's anything but fresh-faced overly eager do-gooders.”
You shrug.
“Maybe. Or maybe you don't mind what sort of outlook or attitude you get so long as you're listened to in the end.”
You trail your fingers over the nameplate on his desk, tracing out the engraved pattern of ‘Director Stedman’
“And I've never questioned your orders, sir.”
Cecil's gaze follows the movement of your fingertip, trying to ignore the stir in his chest.
“You don't question me because it's my job to keep your naive ass alive.”
“Why are you pretending you don't want me?” You fire back.
“is it such a big deal if you feel a little something for someone?”
Cecil feels his patience thin at how easy you make this sound, like he's some handsome stranger at a bar and not the director of the god damn GDA.
“It's not about feeling, and it's a little bit more than a ‘little something’ You're like a damn virus, always there infecting my thoughts.”
He pushes away from his desk, fist clenching at his side like a physical manifestation of the internal struggle he was feeling inside.
You frown and furrow your brows at the man at the firm reluctance on the other man's behalf.
“Why are you saying it like it's bad? I've been thinking about you too you know”
A sharp laugh escapes between his teeth, harsh and humorless.
“It is bad, kid. This… whatever this is, whatever feelings you think you have, it's dangerous.”
Cecil begins pacing the spot behind his desk, his steps quick and frustrated.
“This isn't some high school crush, you can't just move on when you realize how wrong it is.”
You huff slightly insulted by the implication.
“I've put a hell of a lot of effort into this for a ‘high school crush’” you reply unimpressed.
“I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't serious”
“How can you be serious? You're more than half my fucking age!”
Cecil runs a hand through his hair frustration etched into every line of his face. Despite his better judgment, he could feel his ability to keep up the argument waning.
He pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales.
“What could I possibly offer you aside from a life time of trauma and a constant reminder I'll probably die before you hit your fourties?”
You wrinkle your nose at the distasteful words.
“you're sixty, not eighty, plus I have money on the fact that you'll manage to outlive Omni-Man on spite alone.” you muse before letting your expression fall into something more serious.
“but honestly? I don't care about that. I like you. I mean sure at first I just thought you were attractive but-” you continue before Cecil can make a smart comment. “-you're competent. Like overly competent. You're witty in conversation and I know you care more than you let on. Let the others say what they will but I've seen the things you do for people's families and for their safety, maybe the job limits what you can do with that good but that doesn't mean it's not there. I'd like to know that man.”
“You make me sound like a god damn saint” he mutters eyes flickering to yours.
Your words had hit more then a few nerves whether he liked it or not. Ones that deep down… he knew had already begun to fracture.
You sigh and meet his gaze, unwavering.
“I get it more then you think. I'm young, not stupid... I won't pretend it'll be an easy relationship but I'm in it to try.”
You pause before adding, “and if it makes you feel better I like that you're an asshole too.”
Despite everything, an amused smile plays at his lips and with it a small pang if affection.
“You like me because I'm a bastard? That's a new one I'll admit.” he retorts, dry humor in his voice.
“what can I say?” You shrug “your general irritation is charming.”
You watch him carefully knowing that this was the make it or break it moment.
“... Would it really be so bad? You've given your life to the GDA, you could use something nice behind closed doors.”
Something nice…
He could feel his feet on the metaphorical edge of whatever leap was ahead of him. He was being worn down with your persistence but what was scarier is that he didn't really want to fight it in the first place.
“You know how how this would look right? The director of a top secret defense agency dating some rookie hero?”
You can feel it. The way you've got him snagged.
“I won't let it affect my work performance, hell I'll sign an NDA if you want”
“an NDA, how romantic” he scoffs but there's an undercurrent of sarcastic amusement at the idea.
Despite his barbed words, he appreciates the practicality. It was, after all, one if the reasons he'd been drawn in in the first place.
He let's out an exasperated sigh.
“... You're too damn stubborn you know that?”
You grin, already knowing you've won.
“I'll grab my pen.”
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uhdrienne · 2 months ago
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ᯓᡣ𐭩 the embodiment of grace and deviousness
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⛓️ pairing: seungcheol x f!reader ⛓️ genre: sfw, fluff, angst, mafia au, soulmate au ⛓️ word count: ~8k ⛓️ warnings: mentions of violence, weapons, open wounds. do not interact if it can be triggering! there's going to be cursing too because seungcheol is a grumpy one :") ⛓️ summary: as an author, it's almost poetic that your soulmate tattoo would be a flower. actually... half a flower. a snapdragon, to be exact. the petals on your arm, the vines on seungcheol's. it's even more cliche when you meet him on valentine's day. to you it means grace, but for seungcheol, he still has zero idea on what flower his tattoo is. he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious at all, but during this season of love, you're about to figure out exactly what this all means for you and him, the leader of the city's most dangerous mafia.
author's note: suuurprise! to commemorate my first valentines' on this platform, here is a fic, part of @ddeonghwa-s Secret Cupid Event 💌 thank you so much to @ddeonghwa-s for putting this event together, and of course to the wonderful @kpopflowerfield for giving me this opportunity to write for you, i hope you like this as much as i did💘
here is the event masterlist! do support the works of all other authors too, all of them are so so amazing <3 happy valentines' day!!
depending on the POV, italics signify either the author's writing or Seungcheol's thoughts <3
"Territory 13 is acting up again, sir."
"Are they?"
"They're giving trouble. Threatening to cut off our chain supply in the north."
“Hm.”
“We’ve lost a few men fighting them for the past few days. The situation doesn’t seem to be de-escalating, so we reported to you.”
“Nowhere else we can push to weaken them?”
“They seem to have it figured out, sir. They outnumber us at every turn.”
"Well, we can't have that, can we?"
"No, sir."
"You have three hours till dawn. Take the men you need and get it settled. It won't be pretty if I don't get better news by then."
"Yes, sir."
"Go."
He swings his chair around to the fading sky of the night, nursing his glass of amber. He looks down to his full sleeve of black, red, and blue ink. Zinnias, dahlias, rhododendrons, and in the centre, like the highlight of a Naturalism painting, a whorl of vines and small, green leaves, linked to the vines of other flowers. He has no idea what it means, has had no idea since the day he got it. Ever since, all he's focused on is getting it covered, blended in with other flowers on his skin.
What is the point of such a mark on his skin, he wonders for the umpteenth time as he runs his hands over the permanent imprint, if the universe won't show me what it means?
He glances at the corner of his screen. 1:30am. 14 February. Hm.
He looks away.
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"I'm sorry, I don't think we can proceed with cover design and vetting for you, ma'am."
"Oh... Not possible? At all?"
"I'm afraid not, ma'am. Your drafts weren’t given the green light from our Head of Publishing, and our team can't exactly spare the manpower to help you right now."
"...I see. And there’s no one else I can look for? Or….. any contacts you may have?”
“We can try, ma’am, but we can’t promise anything. It’s busy period for us publishers at the moment.”
“Ah. Well, thank you anyway. I hope we can work together in the future."
You put your phone down and sink back into your chair, covering your face with your hands. Your most recent creative co-director pulled out two days ago, another graphic design deal fell through, and now this publishing company. At this rate, you don't know if your book will even ever reach the local bookstore across the street.
You blow out a breath, look down at the only black ink on unblemished skin, the one that's been there since the day you turned 20 years old.... the petals of a snapdragon.
Your phone lights up with a text from a friend, and as you unlock it, the date catches your attention.
14 February. Happy Valentines' Day to you.
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Your final straw comes when you're walking home from your office the next night. You rub your tattoo, which has been irritated the whole of today. You have no idea what it means, just that it can't be good for your soulmate bond. But you've never been concerned for him, not the slightest bit, since the day you got the tattoo. Because he's not something you're looking for right now.
Then you hear scuffling, a familiar thing here in the rougher area of town where you live. Your only intention is to walk past and ignore everything. From prior experience, that's the best survival tactic you have: Don't go looking for trouble, and it won't find you.
A man appears on the sidewalk and walks towards you. You walk faster, calculating the distance it takes. Two hundred metres and you'll be under the safety of the street lights. One hundred and fifty. One hundred. The man seems to be getting closer.
You hear a thud. Fuck. What was that?
You squeeze your eyes together and turn around. It sounds stupid, but you'd like to at least see the face of your captor before you see darkness. You read novels about this. When a character gets out of a captor's grasp, they can never tell the police what the kidnappers look like. If now is your time, you won't go down making the same mistake.
Except there isn't a captor nor a body bag. It's just another man, hands in pockets, bending down to survey the unconscious lump on the concrete ground just behind you. He looks at you, the exact moment that you too meet his eyes. And you feel it. At the worst possible time in your life, ever, for crying out loud.
Hundreds, maybe thousands of volts of electricity. A rising and a pop in your head, a sizzling burn on your forearm. Who knew a soulmate bond snapping into place could be this painful? You choke out a gasp as the pain sears, brands itself into your arm. The outline of the flower appears in full glory, the vines entwining itself around your arm as it links with the petals. It's beautiful and horrifying, and you watch as the flower you've been waiting for finally, finally blooms.
Before long, the bloom appears on your forearm. A snapdragon.
The man seems to feel the same thing, as he doubles over in pain, pupils dilated in shock and clutching his arm. His face is covered by his hood so you can't see what he looks like, but he turns and runs, and before long he's disappeared into the darkness.
A few minutes pass before the pain finally subsides, and in its place comes a wave of exhaustion. You sink on the concrete, careful not to stir your unconscious stalker, who's still lying on the ground motionless.
You've found your soulmate. On the day of love.
You touch your mouth when you feel a smile creeping up your face.
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Seungcheol opens his door, barks an order to his guard outside not to disturb him unless "someone is bloody dead", sinks down on a couch and grabs a whisky. He downs it, the burn of the alcohol close to nothing as compared to that of the flower sitting oh-so-innocently on his forearm. He'll never forget the way the snapdragon petals appeared, as if they were burnt into his skin.
He stares at it, remembers the girl who gasped in pain just as he did. He never meant for this to happen. He was only passing by and saw a man from one of the local, problematic gangs sneaking up on you. He only meant to get the man away as he usually would for anyone else, because his principles, despite his rough line of work, never permitted him to disrespect women. He only meant to do one thing and go on his way. He only felt his arm burning right before he turned onto that damn street.
He glares at his arm, like the ordeal is its fault. His hand is shaking. It never shakes.
He didn't mean to feel his bond snap into place, never meant to meet you. He takes another long swig. This is the worst timing ever, he thinks darkly.
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Meeting your soulmate on Valentines' Day can't be pure coincidence. If there wasn't a sign before that this was your chance, there very well was now. The next day you come up with a mission plan.
Find the man who is apparently my soulmate
...........
And that's when you sit down and have a good think. What are you even going to do when you do find him, anyway? Get together with him purely because he's meant for you, as the universe dictated? What if he's a rude jerk? What if he's ugly? What if... oh god, what if his breath stinks?
What if... he doesn't like you?
You continue writing on your notepad, absently, mindlessly writing sentences and paragraphs like word-vomit. Before long, you look down on the page to see almost a full journal entry, like you always do when you're anxious or stressed.
"Great," You mutter. "May as well write a book about this."
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You enter the bookstore, waving at the little old lady who runs it.
"Good morning," She hums. "What are you looking for?"
You smile, thumbing through the different books on the shelf. "Morning. Something about flowers, maybe? I'm doing research... for a book I'm writing."
She nods. "Perhaps a book that explains the flower on your arm?"
You chuckle. Nothing could ever get past her eyes. "You caught me."
The lady laughs in return. "That," she says, hobbling out from the counter to rummage her inventory, "is a snapdragon. Yours is lovely -- a nice shade of red."
You smile. "Does its colour represent something, too?"
The old lady pulls down a thick book, flips through it and sweeps off the dust on the cover. "Every colour has its representation, but it's also your choice to decide what it means to you." She passes you the book. "In Chinese culture, it means prosperity. It's a lucky colour. For others, it could mean passion and love. It could also mean danger, perhaps courage..."
"Wow," You mumble, flipping through the book. "One colour and thousands of meanings?"
The old lady shrugs. "Colours and nature existed way before we did," She takes the book from you and goes to wrap it up in construction paper. "Is that the tattoo that brings you to your other half?"
"So the world says," You shrug, as you pay for the book. "I had the petals first, so the stem and leaves appeared when I met him, but I don't know where he is... or even what he looks like."
The lady nods in understanding. "I wouldn't worry. You'll find your way back to each other. I'd think that's what the tattoo's for."
"Do you know about them? What do they do?"
"Some stories say they help soulmates detect when one is in danger. Other stories say the closer you are, the warmer it feels... I've never tried."
Huh. You nod. "Thank you. So very much."
There is a soft shimmer of fascination in the old lady's eyes as she waves you goodbye. "I have faith that what's meant for you will come to you in due course, dear. Have a good day now."
------------------------------------
Seungcheol hasn't stopped glowering at his tattoo all day. It looks... out of place. The petals aren't supposed to be there. It looks like an outsider, a strange feeling he can't place. If this is the bond acting up, he surmises, it fucking sucks.
He needs coffee to cure the pounding headache building up.
He orders someone to get his coffee, and as he sits to wait, he taps at his keyboard impatiently, trying to figure out how the tattoo had built up.
The petals came later, he thinks. Is that supposed to mean something?
When his right-hand man, a freckled, tan man comes in with the coffee, Seungcheol is still none the wiser on the phenomenon. So he lowers his guard (for once, he thinks bitterly, for a soulmate bond of all things), and asks the man who's currently laying his coffee cup down. "Lee."
Lee looks up. "Yes, sir?"
"What do you know about soulmate bond tattoos?"
Lee looks visibly excited. "Did you get yours, sir?"
"Asking for a friend," Seungcheol deflects immediately. "So, what do you know about it?"
"I have one, sir," Lee says, and rolls up his sleeve to reveal a... half-faded anchor tattoo. "I was so.... it felt so strange to meet my other half."
"Strange. What was it like?"
Lee shrugs as he sets down a serviette. "Can I speak freely?"
Seungcheol waves at him to go ahead. He's usually the man who acts like he has a stick up his ass, but this time, he wants to find out everything he can about having a soulmate. Just so I don't drag the poor girl down with me for no good reason, he reasons to himself.
"It wasn't all good feelings," Lee explains thoughtfully, hands pausing mid-air. "My soulmate... he was an underground weapons dealer. And you know people in our circle, we don't do feelings. They're liabilities, it's another thing enemies can use against us." He chuckles bitterly. "That was one of the only things we had in common."
Seungcheol doesn't miss the way he's speaking in past tense. "You don't have to explain yourself," He says cautiously.
"No, that's okay," Lee says. "It was a while back. See, I have fading scars to prove that."
"What did it... feel like?"
"It started fading and it hurt so much, I knew something was wrong." Lee shows his arm again.
"What happened?"
Lee shrugs. "He died in an underground turf war. One of those."
Seungcheol makes eye contact. "Did you at least have good days with him?"
Lee looks at him, then looks away. "We did. Almost left the circle for each other, but..." He shrugs again. "Time just wasn't on our side."
"No," Seungcheol agrees. "It wasn't."
His fists clench. So this is what could happen to both parties who were in the circle, nevermind a civilian. He nods. "Thank you for telling me."
Lee gives him a half-smile. "So is this about your tattoo?"
"Y- No, for my friend," Seungcheol replies, cursing himself at the slip-up.
"I see," Lee says, the mischievous glint in his eyes returning. Seungcheol knows Lee doesn't believe him. As his right-hand man for years, how could he not see through Seungcheol? He starts walking towards the door. "Well, tell your friend that if there's anything I learnt, it's that time is a bitch. There's going to be a lot of fear, and it won't be pretty. But... take it from me," He smiles sadly. "It's going to feel worse when you don't treasure time and lose them. After all...." He opens the door. "I lived to tell the tale."
When the door closes behind him, Seungcheol leans back into his chair and rubs his temples.
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"Some soulmates you find in the lecture hall of your school. Some you find along the way of life. Some... are pre-ordained by the universe, in the form of a snapdragon tattoo.
But are these... pre-meditated, pre-planned people meant to stay?"
You put down your pen.
You're curious. At the world, for giving you a person. How that system came about. About your soulmate. What he's like, what he looks like.
But there's no straightforward way to find him. No instruction manual that tells you where to go and what to do.
You decide to take a walk that evening. No distance limit. Just wherever your feet takes you.
And it brings you to this cafe on a street you've never been, with soft music and oak furniture, and a smiley, freckled and tan man behind the counter grins at you. "Welcome to Choi's."
"Hello," You say, smiling a bit. "Could I get a latte, and... that croissant? It looks amazing."
"Of course," He says, before turning to another burly staff that just appeared. "Get her a latte, will you?"
The staff nods, and disappears behind the coffee machine.
You take a seat, and hum as you wait. When the pastry and drink appear on your table, you thank the staff and look down to see the milk foam in the shape of a heart. Mmm. You take a sip, already feeling a lot better.
The bell jingles, and a man steps in, hands in his pockets. and heads for the counter. By force of habit, you look up and send him a cursory glance. And then you freeze. The man has rolled up his sleeves as he speaks to the staff, as if they already know each other, and on his arms....
A full tattoo sleeve of flowers. Zinnias, dahlias, rhododendrons, and in the centre, a whorl of vines leading to the most prominent flower. It looks fresh, like it was inked in a mere five minutes earlier.... in a shade of brilliant red... a snapdragon.
It's him.
The man must have excellent situational awareness because he acutely notices someone staring at him and he turns to you. Your shell-shocked face, your trembling hands... and his eyes fall on your forearm.
Choi Seungcheol had never felt this thunderstruck, not even when he found out half his men had been bought over by rivals years ago. He knows he'll never forget this feeling.
So he does the next best thing. He excuses himself from his staff and leaves.
So you get up and run after him.
Seungcheol's in the middle of cursing himself and the world out when he hears your voice calling for him.
"Sir...?"
He can pretend he doesn't know you're calling him. Sure. He can do that. Keep on walking, Seungcheol.
Until he hears running, and a tap on his shoulder. Ah.
He swallows, closes his eyes, and turns around. "Yes?" He asks coldly.
Ah. So he's not in the habit of making conversation, you think. "I'm really sorry about this, but can I...."
"Can you what?" Seungcheol replies, even though he already knows what you're going to say.
"Can I see your arm? For a second? I just wanted to make sure I wasn't seeing wrongly."
"No, you may not."
You cringe. Silence dwindles between both of you. "Uh... right."
Seungcheol reaches for his car key. "Why do you want to see my arm, love?" He casts a cursory glance at your arm. "To see if I'm your soulmate?"
You look down, then at him. "...Yeah. I got this tattoo, and I don't know what my soulmate looks like, so..."
"So you're trying to find him in me, huh?" Seungcheol doesn't mean to be rude, but this is the only way to get you off his back, at least until he knows how to move forward. The least he can do is to warn you. "News flash, love. I'm just a man who enjoys flowers. But me as your soulmate?" He chuckles and presses a button. From a distance, his car makes a beeping sound and unlocks. "I highly doubt it. You'll need to know who we are before you enter our world."
"And who are you?" The words come out before you can stop them.
Seungcheol supposes it doesn't hurt to establish who he is, just so you'll have enough sense to stay away.
"The mafia, love," He says softly, as he walks towards his car. "I'm the leader, here. I'd advise you to stay away from me, soulmate or otherwise."
When his car pulls away, you sigh and look at your tattoo.
The biggest joke the universe could have pulled on you. Making a mafia leader, out of 8 billion other people, your soulmate.
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When he reaches home, Seungcheol reaches for his phone. When Lee answers, Seungcheol gives him a long list of things to do, for the cafe and for the mafia.
"Has anyone caught on the cafe yet?" He asks.
"Nope," Lee answers. "It was a good front to keep track of the public, but it seems like a normal cafe to them. So I'd say everything's fine, boss."
"Good."
"Anything else?" Lee says.
"....One more thing." Seungcheol says, sighing through his nose. "A girl came to the cafe tonight."
"...Uh-huh."
"The girl in the white cardigan and jeans."
"Right."
"Warn her not to divulge who we are and what the cafe really is. With any luck, she'll figure out that the cafe is protecting us."
"Protecting us..." Lee gasps. "Sir, you told her who you are? Why?"
"To get her to leave me alone," Seungcheol mutters. "Anyway, just tell her to zip her mouth. I don't care how you do it."
He regrets the words once they exit his mouth. "Just don't hit her or anything. We're not in that business."
A soft laugh comes over the phone. "She your soulmate or something, boss?"
Seungcheol pinches his nose. "So she thinks. Just because we have a matching..."
An idea hits him. "Do me another favour."
"Name it, boss."
"Find out where she was last night. Just to make clear something for me."
"You got it."
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A knock on your door sounds in the middle of the night. When you open the door, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you flinch when two burly guys flanking the same freckled, tan man from the cafe last night step in your doorway.
"Uh...you're from the cafe, aren't you?"
"I thought a familiar face might help matters," The freckled man says. "My name's Lee. And you?"
You introduce yourself cautiously, but you look at the two men. "So... what the man said yesterday was true? You're not really a cafe, are you?"
Lee shrugs. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with, anyway." He nods to the men. "We just came here to give a little warning."
You have a feeling you already know. "What warning?"
"Don't pry, and don't tell," Lee says, still smiling, but you sense the underlying threat within. "I don't know what business you have with us, but it should end now." He nods at you. "For both yours and our good."
The burly man on the left makes a point of nodding towards your home. "We know where you live, and we can find you no matter where you go. Don't complicate things for yourself. You won't like what comes next."
And they leave, leaving you shaking in the doorway. Anger courses through you. Your soulmate sent people after you to push you away.
You don't know everything about soulmate bonds, but what you do know is that soulmates are drawn to each other: to protect, and to take care of. Either your soulmate is very, very clueless; or he just doesn't want anything to do with you. You have to find out which answer it is before you decide whether to let go of him or not.
Alright, Mr. Mafia Boss, you clench your teeth. I don't have to deal with your mafia directly to get an audience with you. Let's see how far this game can go.
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Moonlight slants through his ceiling-to-floor windows. Seungcheol grits his teeth as he watches the surveillance that Lee found for him. You, walking home the night of 14 February, around 10pm, going faster and faster as that son-of-a-bitch followed you. His arms rest on his chair as he sees himself appear and knock the guy out cold.
He sighs. So it really was you. He'd recognise that face anywhere.
He looks at his tattoo once more, hating how perfectly it entwines with the rest of his tattoos. So much for covering it up. He turns his arm around again and again. It's exquisite, but it lies there like a burden.
And it picks the perfect timing to start burning. Seungcheol grunts in pain, clutching his arm as it burns, sears with the same pain it did that night. He doesn't know how the system came about, but what he knows is this: You're in danger. And as annoyed as he is about this whole situation, he has to find you. If only to make the pain stop.
He reaches for his telephone, and when the other line picks up he hisses: "Find her. Now. Scour all the surveillance in the city. I don't care what you have to do, but find her."
He can hear his man barking out orders in the background, and he shakily puts the phone down. Lee comes bursting into the room, grabs Seungcheol's arm to check on him. Normally, Seungcheol would have the head of anyone who dared to touch him without permission, but given Lee's position in this predicament, he allows him to.
"Is it supposed to be like this?" Seungcheol groans out. "It hurts like hell."
"Yup," Lee mutters. "It is. Looks and seems exactly like mine whenever Bri got into danger."
"Danger--" Seungcheol scowls and tries getting up. "You mean she's injured?"
Lee shrugs. "I don't know if it extends to normal minor situations, but whenever Bri got into a fight, I'd feel my arm burning."
"Her, fight. Don't make me laugh," Seungcheol scoffs, then grunts again as another wave of pain hits him. "She looks like she couldn't hurt a fly."
"We've located her, boss," Another man comes into the room, holding a laptop towards him.
"Where?"
When silence answers him, he hisses. "I didn't ask you this question for you to not fucking reply. I asked where?"
"The border of Territory 7, sir."
"What the hell is she doing there? Is she an underworld member, too?" Lee wonders out loud.
Seungcheol pushes himself up off his seat, wincing as his arm throbs slightly. "Fuck if I know. But I guess I have to find her if I want this pain to stop."
"I'll get men and go with you," Lee starts, but Seungcheol waves him off. "No need. We don't need to stir up a fuss, not when the territories are already misbehaving these few weeks. I'll get her, and... figure it out later."
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You're tapping your foot as you wander the edges of the city's largest turf. It's well-known that civilians shouldn't pass by here if they want to get home alive and well, but with the recent news of unrest stirring in such turfs, you figure that it's the best way to seek Seungcheol out. It's stupid, but it's your best bet. Plus, you figure that the nearer you are to
You must be near a group of militants on patrol duty, because you can hear hushed orders and boots crunching. You sigh and look at your watch.
"Are you actually stupid?"
You raise your head. "So it worked. So nice of you to join me this evening."
Seungcheol storms towards you. "So you tricked me?"
"Wasn't a trick." You mutter. "I'm here, aren't I?"
"You are a nutcase," He seethes, as he grabs your arm and starts dragging you away. "Do you have any idea what would happen if anyone caught you? These few places are red-light districts now. You're not supposed to be here."
"I wouldn't know. You came anyway."
Seungcheol lets you go and huffs at you. "Go home, and don't get any more stupid ideas. Yes, I'm your soulmate. Yes, my tattoo is also a snapdragon, and I guess I can sense when you're in places you shouldn't be because my arm fucking burns, okay? Got your answer?"
"No," You say defiantly. "I haven't found out one thing. Why were you so desperate to deny that you weren't my soulmate? But you still came running anyway."
"This," He hisses, stepping closer to you, "is a pain in my ass. I can't work if my tattoo's going to start hurting every half hour. So for god's sake, please stay out of anything that doesn't concern you. Do not run into a lion's den to get an audience with me."
"So you're going to give me a way to contact you?" You shrug. "Sure, if that will keep me from making rash decisions."
Seungcheol furrows his brows. "What gave you that idea?"
"Well, you can't think I'm going to let you go after all of this, do you?"
What??
"Did I not make myself clear en-"
"Oh, you did," You say. "Like you said, you came running because you could sense I was somewhere I shouldn't be. So you can't stay away no matter how much I piss you off, can you?"
"I nev-"
"That's how soulmates work, Mr. Mafia Boss." You say smugly. "We can't stay away from each other, like a moth can't stray from the light."
Seungcheol scowls at you and then proceeds to maintain a ten-second glaring competition until he blows out a breath.
"Ten more reasons why I hate this bond so much," He mutters, before pulling out a business card and shoving it into your hands. "I've got ground rules. Don't call me for stupid reasons. Do not call to ask me out privately. Do not give my number to anyone for any reason. No exceptions, unless you want a bullet through your brain."
"Did you just threaten to shoot me...." You peruse the business card. "Choi Seungcheol?"
"Yes, and what about it?"
"You know nothing about being a gentleman."
"Never said I was one. Get in the car."
"You''re going to shoot me in there? With the expensive leather?"
"I will if you don't keep your mouth shut and start moving."
You zip it and follow him.
Success. You've met your soulmate. (You're sitting in his car, too.)
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He said you couldn't call. But texting exists, so.... You're determined to bug him until he takes notice.
"It's me."
He leaves you on read.
The next day you add another message. "I guess I'll write to an empty chatroom. I'm doing good, I just had a sandwich for breakfast and I'm going to continue writing now."
5pm: "I'm done with my next chapter. Trying to find an illustrator for the cover. I'm craving soup."
11pm: "goodnight! hope your work or whatever's going well. You can't tell me anything about what you're doing?"
And so it continues, for a full three days, with silly texts about a sentence error you wrote, or a funny thing you ate, or asking him what he's doing at work, until you get a single response from him that has you rolling your eyes: "Be quiet."
You do not, to Seungcheol's chagrin, keep quiet.
He didn't think you could talk so much to someone who never replied. In a week he'd all but figured out your life pattern: wake up, eat, write (he had no idea what you were writing), find publishers and illustrators, take a walk maybe in the late afternoon, eat again, and write until it was time to sleep. You lead an awfully idyllic life compared to him, he thinks as he closes your text.
You also seem to have a love for soup, he realises. The weirdest fucking craving.
And croissants from his fake cafe. You sent him photos of it across the week, and he wonders how you never get tired of the damn thing. Your food cravings change from soup to something else every now and then, getting more bizarre with each one. (Pasta with pickles? Really?)
It was cute. (He cursed himself out after thinking about it.)
And so it goes for two more weeks until Seungcheol decides this has to stop. He texts you back for once, and you're elated as you read his text.
"Be ready Saturday night. Zip it for now, will you? I'm trying to work."
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You're waiting outside your house when he pulls up. You already know that he knows exactly where you live, so you never bothered texting him your address. You get in once he stops the car, his grumpy face still on full display.
"Thanks for taking me out," You say, smiling at him, and he grunts as he pulls out and steps on the accelerator. "Isn't that exactly what you wanted?"
You shrug. "And you gave in. Is that a soulmate thing?"
"I will drop you off right this second if you say 'soulmate' one more time." He threatens.
He rubs the sleeve covering the skin on which his tattoo lies, and you frown. "Is it causing you trouble? I haven't gone anywhere weird recently, though."
"No. And you better not have."
He doesn't say much after that, simply drives about twenty minutes to a sleek, al fresco restaurant. The neon lights, warm-looking space draws you in, and when you read the menu outside while waiting for him to park...
"Soup? So you did read my texts!"
"You won't shut up about it. A little hard to miss it even if I wanted to."
You chuckle and flip through the menu. "So what're you getting?"
"You pick, you're the one craving soup of all things," He mutters absently. "Don't really care. Just came to get a message across."
"What is it?"
"Sit first before I tell you."
And so you do. He lets you get tomato soup and grilled cheese, pasta and a soda, and says absolutely nothing. He eats a little, rolling his eyes at the amount you inhale. Finally, you put down your fork. "So what did you want to tell me?"
He swallows his water before putting the glass down. "Just one thing."
You cock your head. "I'm listening."
"Why are you contacting me personally, so often? I'm sure I said not to do that."
"You said not to call," You reply, smiling. When he looks like he's about to protest, you smile again. "So I texted."
"You're fucking impossible," He mutters.
"Sorry, what was that?"
"Nothing. Anyway, stop that. I'm a busy man."
"I know. That's why I text, like, three times in a day. It's not a lot, is it?"
His hand comes down on the table, not loud enough to cause a scene but firm enough to catch your attention. "I don't have the time to entertain you, Miss Y/N. You know who I am, and that was my fault, and I think it would do you good to remember that."
"Pulling the mafia leader card on me, again?" You sigh and shake your head. "I don't know what you do, and you won't tell me. I write about people like you and mobsters. You're exactly what I write in my books."
"I am not one of your little book characters," Seungcheol hisses back. "I am not a work of fiction or something you pull out of your imagination and twist about like your plaything. I am real, and I am someone who can hurt you if I want to. And I don't owe you any information. Stop bothering me, got it?"
"Is that why you brought me here?" A surge of confidence and defiance grips you. He couldn't have taken you out to somewhere he knew you'd enjoy for no reason.
He scowls. “I can go wherever I want. Don’t read too much into it.”
You grin. “Sure.”
He nods.
“So can I continue messaging you?”
He groans. “Did you not get any of what I just said?”
You shrug. "Guess you’ll have to tell me a few more times.”
He sighs loudly, and his fingers drum the table as he seemingly goes deep into thought. The scowl is almost becoming a permanent fixture on his face, you think.
After a long moment, he groans and utters: “Next Sunday. 6pm.”
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He takes you out two more times. The next Sunday, to a small restaurant you chose. This time he ate better, the consistent strain in his forehead almost easing as he bit into the lasagna.
He answered your questions, albeit grumpily, and when you got off his car that night, you thought, as you opened your journal up again, that he was finally, finally warming up to you.
But the next time he brings you out, he is visibly in a stormy mood, barely making conversation and stabbing his meat with his fork.
“Is there something wrong?” You ask.
“No.”
And there the conversation ends.
As dessert rolls in, you try one more time.
“So… how’s work lately?”
“Fine.”
“Ah.”
Please talk. Please.
“You know, I always wonder what a mafia boss does,” You pick up your spoon. “Like, order kills or something?”
Seungcheol picks up his glass. “I remember telling you not to ask about what I do.”
“And you don’t have to give me a full answer,” You shrug. “I’m just asking for a general idea. I thought it’d be nice if I got to know what you do.”
Seungcheol sits back in his seat. "Don't read too much into what I do, love." He takes another sip of water. "You can't honestly think I'm interested in you enough to reveal myself after a few meals. You said you're a writer. You shouldn't be this easy to lie to, you know that?"
Yeah, screw this.
Any confidence you had sizzles out. Easy to lie to. He thinks you're a gullible, small girl eating up every morsel of attention he deigns to give you when he feels like it. Red-hot, burning humiliation and shame rise in you.
After a long pause, you nod. "Alright. Fine. I get it. I apologise for occupying your time."
He surveys you for a second, then nods, like he just made a good business deal. "Just so we make things clear with each other."
"Crystal," You reply, no warmth in your words. "I think I finally got what you wanted to say. I thought you just weren't used to this... idea of having a soulmate, so I wanted to warm you up to it. But now I see you never wanted one in the first place."
Seungcheol furrows his brows just a fraction.
You push your chair back. You're careful not to look or seem angry, in part not to show him you're affected, and also to just... save face. He already embarrassed you. No need to do it again in public. "Take care, Mr. Choi. Thanks for putting up with me, anyway. It won't happen again. I’ll get the bill."
Soulmate, my ass.
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It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this.
It wasn't supposed to turn out this way.
Glass meets the plaster of the wall. His tattoo lies there, barren, lacking its usual warmth even though nothing was taken away.
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Ladies and gentlemen, this is perhaps how the story goes. He pushed her away, and she realised how the universe’s plan, this whole concept, had utterly failed. There were never meant to be pre-ordained people. People change, and oftentimes they disappoint…
The journal remains open, the last sentence discontinued.
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T w o M o n t h s L a t e r
Soft, oozing vocals of Clara Bow fill your apartment as you pack your writing materials. You're done writing for the day.
You glance at the clock. Nine p.m. In time for a snack and TV before you head to bed.
When you turn on the TV, the news catches your attention. Another territory struggle, another turf battle for control. You shake your head and switch the channel. Typical.
As you settle down into the cushions with chips and a glass of white wine, sudden searing pain, hot and white and agonising, shoots down your arm. You gasp and grasp it in your other hand, almost keeling over at how painful it is.
Something is wrong. Very, very, wrong.
You sink to the floor, clutching your arm and sweat starting to bead your forehead. It hurts, your arm hurts, everything hurts.
Is Seungcheol in trouble?
His name card. Right. You can just find out for yourself, and if he asks, you could just say the tattoo's causing you a lot of pain. Yes. That's it.
You stagger to your drawers to find his card, messing everything up in the process. You fumble for your phone and dial his number, again and again and again, but all you’re greeted with is a beep and an automated voice instructing you to leave a message.
You don’t know what to do. No emergency contact, no one you can find… hell, you don’t even know where he is. As you’re standing, getting ready to run out and search, there's a pounding on your door.
You barely make it to the door and open it, and there stands the freckled, tan man whose name you never got. He looks awkward, eyes racing to your tattoo. "I'm sure you must be in a lot of pain," He says. "Mr. Choi ordered me to check on you."
"Check on me?" You almost wheeze. "What's going on that my arm hurts this badly?"
Lee shakes his head. "Not right now. We will talk in the van."
"Of course you can't say." You snap, patience wearing thin, temper as riled up as the pain in your arm. You're done with his secrets. "I can't know what he's doing, I can't know where he is, or if he's alive or dead, even if the pain he's causing may very well kill me too."
"You won't die," Lee says, a little more kindly. "If this comforts you, my soulmate's gone, and I'm still here."
Your anger evaporates a fraction. "I'm sorry about that."
"No need to be." Lee sighs, then reaches his own arm out. "Hold on to me, I won’t do anything weird. I'll take you to him. He's going to be a bitch when he sees you, but... I think it would be good for both of you. More often than not, distance breaks things apart."
"He's enough of a bitch even when I'm around," You mumble, but you take his arm anyway as he helps you out.
Without much effort, he gets you into the van he came in, and barks out an order to the curious men inside to drive into what he calls "The Heart".
"What's the Heart?" You ask, as he passes you a canteen of water to drink from.
"It's what it sounds like. The heart of our territory." Lee explains, eyes trained in front. "Mr. Choi's there when we... have scuffles, and that's usually the place where security is tightest, so he can be near to us to get updates and give orders, and still not get into danger."
"So he is a leader."
"He is, and one of those you wouldn't want to cross. He's quick with his work, and he can resort to getting his hands dirty if he has to. His network and connections are... frighteningly impressive, to say the least."
"Funny how I'm hearing it from you and not him," You huff as you lay your head back, trying not to think about the pain.
"He hasn't had the experience of telling people about his life, Miss," Lee chuckles. "But I figured you'll know eventually, so better sooner than later, right?"
"Sooner than later?"
"You're meant to stick around him, Miss. For the good and bad. You're his soulmate, after all."
"I don't know if we'll get there." You sigh, and close your eyes. "Is he badly hurt? Will me being there even help matters?"
Lee shrugs. "We'll find out."
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Lee gets six men to flank you both as he walks you in. Up ahead, there's a building seemingly made of unforgiving steel, it's blank canvas looming in the dark red, streaked sky.
"That's the Heart?"
"That’s the one. Unpenetrable, Miss. Let's go in."
You pray for all your sakes it really is as Lee takes you up into the elevator. When he opens one of the (almost) hundreds of similar doors to lead to an empty, cell-like room, and inside sits Seungcheol, with a red fabric pressed---
"You're bleeding," You blurt. The pain in your arm subsides just a fraction, perhaps jarred by the sensation of finally, finally, meeting him.
He looks up, eyes twisting in furious shock as he glares at Lee, and then you (you don’t know why). "Exactly which part of my order did you not understand, Lee?"
Lee bows his head in apology. "I'll never take away a chance to meet your soulmate away, you know that, sir."
Seungcheol scowls hard, and you're almost afraid he's going to shoot Lee there and then.
"Get out."
Lee smiles, ushers you in and walks out. "I'll be back in half an hour to report. I'll call for the doctor again."
You bend and peel aside the fabric. Once white, it's now soaked red, it's warmth unsettling. There's blood, so much of it, and on his once unblemished skin now contains a mess of open flesh, blood, and a...
A bullet.
"A gun." You mumble.
"Try not to throw up." He replies, ever-so-gently nudging you away. "This is Armani."
"You jerk."
His face twists in surprise. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me." The anger is returning. "You say all sorts of fucking nonsense to keep me away, and we meet again months later because you're shot. And that may be a normal day for you, Mr. Choi, but us civilians don't go about our day-to-day expecting a bullet hole to appear in our skin."
His hand clenches up.
"This is why I said everything I did," He snarls in return, putting more pressure on his wound. "I knew I would never want you to try to handle what I am!"
"You never let me try," You hiss. "You refused to tell me anything, to let me see what your life was like. No, you chose to shut me out! And don't you dare tell me what I can or can't handle."
He huffs. "I see no reason in dragging you, or anyone else, in when it isn't needed."
"Yet Lee brought me here tonight." You point out. "He knows something you clearly don't."
"Lee is a nosy fucker." He snaps.
"He's someone who's experienced it all. His soulmate is gone, Seungcheol."
"And look at the pain it caused him. At least if anything happens to me, it's no love lost for you."
"Shut up."
"What?"
"I said shut up. Sometimes people want to help you. Sometimes people wouldn't actually mind, I don't know, going into this Heart place to check on you. Sometimes, you need to get it into your thick skull that I actually want to be here, to make sure you don't die while this stupid snapdragon is burned into me!"
His eyes meet yours.
"But you won't get it!" You chuckle. "You send men to check on me when I’m in pain, but I doubt you have any intention of finding me after all this gets better."
"You think I wanted to?" He shoots back.
"And you think I had it all settled for me? That I was better off not knowing the person that was meant for me, this whole time?"
"I never wanted that." Seungcheol insists hotly. "Look at my world, it's a mess, a violent place, a--"
"And there has to be a reason I'm the one picked out!" You defend. "Do you have any idea what snapdragons stand for?"
When he doesn't reply, you continue. "It stands for grace and strength. I can handle all of this. I'm not meant to measure up with your headstrong personality anyway."
"Then what are you meant for?" He asks, tone now soft, dejected.
"To complement you," You reply. You've never been this sure in your life. "To make up for the traits you lack. I'm not supposed to be as strong, or as fierce as you are. I'm meant to... ground you. That's what soulmates are. To... allow each other's strengths to shine and make up for what they don't have yet."
Seungcheol goes quiet.
"And you?" He asks, after a long pause. "What do I complement you in?"
You survey him again. "That's something I can't discover yet, because you won't let me."
“So what do you suggest?” He continues.
“No more hiding. Show me who you are. No restraint, I don’t need you to keep anything secret.”
“What if you end up like Lee?”
“Then it would have been a life well spent, at least.”
Seungcheol grunts with effort as he leaves his seat and stumbles to you. "And if I obeyed, and let you in?"
You look at him square in the eye. "Then it would be my honour to stand with you... or in the shadows, or wherever you make me stand."
"This sounds a lot like an induction of one of my men," Seungcheol murmurs. "I don't want that."
"Then what do you want?" You ask softly.
Seungcheol looks down at you, emotions warring in his eyes. After a while, he slumps and turns away. “Fuck. I can’t do this to you.”
“Tell me what you want, Seungcheol,” You say quietly. “You order people around for a living. I’m telling you to be honest with me, too.”
"…You. With me. Wherever you, or I, want to be."
You shrug a little as he cups your face. "I can live with that."
"You better," Seungcheol mumbles, as his mouth finds yours at last, burning more than any wretched tattoo, warmth spreading to your fingertips. "After everything you just said... I don't imagine you're going anywhere for a while."
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February 14, 2026
The doctor came to patch him up. His hand squeezed yours hard as the bullet was finally pried out of him.
It's honestly a blur to you now when you think about it, but all you remember is his eyes boring into yours, his unwavering, callused grip on your hand.
"The snapdragon symbolises strength and grace reflected in their tall, strong stems, blooms and resistance to colder temperatures. Others believe they also represent deception and deviousness.
She embodied grace. She was his missing piece, the trait he needed to complement his headstrong nature. But he also needed someone strong enough to stand with him, through every obstacle his work throws him in. And she... she needed his courage and unwavering will to stand with her through it all."
You put the pen down. Mmm. Not too bad for a closing chapter. You send a text to the new publishing house that you contacted two weeks ago. They had seen your draft, and they loved it. Two weeks from now, when everything is settled, you promise yourself, you will show Seungcheol. He'd been curious for a while now about what holed you up in your writing room.
"Love?"
You look up from biting into your croissant. "Well, look who's back from Sicily. How did the meetings go?"
Seungcheol smiles and opens his arms. "Not too bad. I suppose the love you share for novels, along with the Don's* wife, was a selling point. She was most keen on sending you," He cocks his head to the pile of books at his feet, "this. She said it'd make a good Valentines' gift, since I've been poor at accompanying you these few months."
"That sounds perfect. We're both suckers for romances."
As you sink into his embrace, the tattoo once again burns, but it's not the passionate, red-hot zealous heat. It's warm, comforting, like a hot chocolate in winter.
He sighs. "Happy Valentines', love. I'm going to lose my girl to a bunch of fictional mafia men again?"
"You know it."
"I still don't understand why. You have one right here, next to y-"
"Softer! Do you want the whole town to hear you?"
fin.
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*Don = the highest role in an organised crime family
thank you for reading 💟
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endless-ineffabilities · 10 months ago
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chemical override
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
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a/n: i caved and did an actual Ewan fic! Given that the lad is more of a public persona nowadays, I reckon it's fine (?) This is pure self-indulgence for all my Ewan loves. May have a continuation but idk for now, enjoy!!
series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist
The reader and Ewan are paired for press interviews. Despite barely having any scenes together and only knowing each other in passing on set, the chemistry they share cannot be denied...
Your first round of press takes place in a primped up hotel suite in Paris, thanks to the team at HBO.
You are an up and coming actress, much like some of your costars in the show, but the pressure is heavier on you because you were entering in season two, whereas everyone was already well-acquainted with one another.
Your few scenes were mostly with Jace and Baela, so you grew close to Harry and Bethany.
However, the media team decided to pair you up with Ewan for the day. A little fun initiative was set by the team that a character from the Blacks would be do press with a counterpart from the Greens - hence, yourself and Ewan.
You're nervous as you walk down the hallway, unable to fully pay attention to the instructions your lovely assistant gives you.
She tells you about the different interviewers for the day, bloggers and magazine writers from all over the world. She reminds you that each one will only be for a maximum of 5 minutes, so it shouldn't be too complicated. She smiles and eagerly says, "Take a deep breath, you got this!", as you reach the suite doors.
But in your mind, all you can recall is your first interaction with Ewan, almost a year ago right after the table read. You had nervously blurted out to him that Aemond is your favourite character, after he just asked, "How are you?". He laughed, said thank you, before he was pulled away in conversation by Tom.
You pray to the fictional Westerosi gods that things will fare better today. That you won't get all tongue-tied when those steel blue eyes land on you.
Upon entering the room, the team is quick to fuss over you. Sometimes you forget that you're actually an actress now. A celebrity, some might say. It all feels surreal and you have a inkling it won't ever stop being this way.
Ewan is already seated in front of the camera, and he stands to give you a hug as you finally walk over.
"Hey there, how are you?" he smiles widely, smelling like cigarettes and something muskier as he wraps his arms around you.
Unroll your tongue. Rework your brain. Calm down.
"Hey, Ewan!" you respond. "I'm doing great, happy to see you again."
"Well, I only wish we could have had more time together on set." Ever the gentleman, he gestures for you to take your seat before he does the same. "But next season perhaps? Who knows?"
"Oh, sure." You settle in, pleased by the fact that your chairs are only about a foot apart. "We can both look forward to my character giving Aemond the arse kicking he deserves."
He laughs, eyes glinting with mischief. "Come on now, I was thinking our characters are actually quite compatible, no?"
"Well, I sure wouldn't want to step on Alys' shoes. She'd probably curse my character all the way to Yi Ti."
"Hmm," he hums, biting his lip. You can't help but hear Aemond when he does that. "I say you can always count on Aemond and Vhagar to come to the rescue of a beautiful maiden such as yourself."
Well, you'll be damned. Ewan, while still an introvert of his own sort, is as charming as can be. If he's turning it on to get himself hyped for the press, it's working.
It's definitely working on you, to say the least.
The media manager gives the signal for the first interview to begin, and a reporter walks in, all ready with prepared script in hand.
"Here we go," you mutter, facing forward.
"Good luck," Ewan replies.
You both shake the reporter's hand, and he introduces himself as Jared.
"So guys," Jared begins. "Why don't we start with you telling me a little bit about what we can expect from your characters this season?"
The question is easy, and it doesn't take long for you and Ewan to think it through. Jared asks a few more basic questions, before drawing the attention more to you.
"When you watched season one, did you have a favourite character?" he asks you.
You smile, "Oh, I mean, I have to say - and Ewan already knows this, by the way - that Aemond was my favourite character."
"Was?" Ewan says, feigning shock. "Unacceptable."
"Was... Is... " you shrug, rolling your eyes playfully, earning a laugh from Jared. "I think I might be more a Daemon girl now."
"Oh!" Jared exclaims happily. "Does Matt know about this?"
"I'll be sure to tell him - "
Ewan interjects, shaking his head at you, "There's no need to tell him, because I'll convert her back to Team Aemond in no time, trust me."
"Daemon is awesome, though," you say to him, smiling.
"Sure." Ewan makes a face like that fact doesn't matter. Wasn't he the one who said that Daemon would be the character he would most like to play if not Aemond?
"And Caraxes is my favourite dragon." You share a look with Jared, hoping he would agree.
"Yes!" Jared says. "Caraxes is the best dragon in the show, in my opinion."
"Ah, you're both wrong," Ewan says. "My Vhagar is the oldest and baddest dragon in all of the land."
"My Vhagar, he says," you joke. "Seems like someone still hasn't shed Aemond for this press tour."
"And I never will, darling." His gaze is intense when he turns to you, and you clear your throat to fight the warmth rushing to your cheeks.
"Alright, they're giving me the wrap-up," Jared thankfully breaks the tension. "It was a pleasure talking to you guys, congratulations on the new season!"
One interview down, and your nerves have already considerably subsided. Ewan tapping your arm to start up a conversation once more surely helps in distracting you.
In the best damn way possible.
"How do you think we did? That wasn't too bad, was it?"
"I think we did quite well," you casually offer a high five, but your heart skips a beat when Ewan interlaces your suspended hands for just a moment.
"I'm glad they paired me with you," Ewan says, after releasing your hand. You hold on to the armrests to keep your fingers from twitching.
"I am, too," you admit. "I am a fan of you, after all, but I think you already know that."
He blushes, "Well, that's not a bad thing. I think you're a fantastic actress. I must have seen your first film a good ten times."
"You mean my first and only film," you add humbly. "But thank you."
"Only film for now," he affirms. "No doubt this is only the beginning for you, darling. With your talent and your charisma, I'm sure you have potential scripts piled up already."
"I could say the same for you! Have you seen what your fans say about you online? You're the internet's new boyfriend, Ewan Mitchell."
The media manager announces the next interview, but Ewan follows up with a response for you under his breath, "I have seen some things. But when I have a girlfriend, I'll make sure she won't have to share me at all."
Oh, so apparently he is single. But wait - why is he telling you this?
You don't get to mull over that thought. For the time being, the next interview starts and you make sure you do a good job at what you're paid to do - promoting the series.
Not daydreaming about getting with a costar, for heaven's sake. Stay professional.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
You feel lightheaded after finishing the seventh - or had it been the eighth? - interview.
Your assistant delivers a coffee to you during the twenty-minute break. Ewan had stepped out to the balcony to have a smoke, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
He certainly is everything you expected him to be, and so much more. Insightful, cheeky, dedicated. An artist, through and through. He was in the business for all the right reasons, passion and respect for the craft.
If he had any flaws, you weren't privy to them yet. If there are any reasons for you not to be attracted to him, you didn't know what those were yet.
And with every flirtatious remark and pointed smile, you can't deny the hope blooming in you.
"Hey," he reappears, pulling you out of your musings. "I hope you don't mind that I smell of smoke."
No, you didn't, not when it's him.
"Don't worry about it," you reassure him. You tilt your head forward to take a sip of your coffee, but a lock of your hair falls in front of your face. Annoyed, you think to reach for it, but Ewan beats you to it, tucking it back in place.
"There you go, darling," he croons, gesturing for you to proceed in drinking.
"Th-thanks." His eyes don't leave yours as you take a slow sip.
"So," you say, desperate to break the silence, "which interview did you enjoy the most so far?"
"How can I possibly choose? I mean, I really liked the one with ComicSociety, the guy that said our characters have a lot of chemistry and should get together next season. He's right, I already told you!"
"Ohhh, sure, that will go down really well with the Blacks and Greens."
He smirks, "I don't see why not?"
"For one, Aemond is ensnared by Alys, and my character will never give up fighting for Rhaenyra. I just don't see it happening, Ewan."
"Right," he mutters thoughtfully, "there is still Alys in the picture."
"Still in the picture? With the amount of steamy scenes you two have lined up for season three, I'd say she will be Aemond's entire picture in and of herself."
"Hmm," he glances at you once, then looks down. Dare you think it, does he look disappointed?
"But hey," you add lightly, "maybe we can talk to Ryan and he can flip the entire script just for our characters."
"Yeah," his cheeky smile resurfaces, "maybe you can take Alys' place."
Take the place of Alys? Of Alys. Is he insinuating...
"Next round of interviews, guys!" The media manager announces to the room.
"Here we go again, darling," Ewan squeezes your hand once, before putting on his professional face once more.
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By the end of it all, not even caffeine can perk you up. You were exhausted, you and Ewan having finished four full hours of press.
Your assistant comes to your aid, ready to direct you back to your own hotel room.
"This has been such a pleasure, Ewan, really." You stand, this time initiating the hug.
He squeezes you gently, humming in your ear. When you pull apart, he says, "I honestly wouldn't mind trudging through hours and hours of press with you."
That's sweet of him. You're too tired to mask the warmth that rises to your cheeks. "And I feel the same. Today couldn't have gone any better."
"Truly, and listen, maybe we could - "
"Ewan!" The manager approaches. "I'm so sorry to rush with this, but we need to film just a quick soundbite with you for Aemond. Just two to three questions for the Max Tiktok account?"
"Oh, okay - " Ewan is reluctant to turn away from you.
"Perfect! If you could just stand there by the windows please..." The manager already has him by the arm, directing where he has to go.
"We have to go," your assistant says. "Still have to prep for tomorrow."
"I'll see you soon, Ewan!" you call out to him. "Thanks again."
He gives a half-hearted wave, dejected as he watches you walk out of the room.
"That wasn't too bad," you share with your assistant as you enter the elevators. "Not bad at all, actually."
"Oh, you did so well," she compliments. "It definitely helps with the press that you and Mr. Mitchell have such insane natural chemistry."
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
In the calm of your hotel room, you get ready for bed.
Just when you're about to finish with your nightly routine, your phone rings from your bedside table. You're quick to rush over, thinking it could be your assistant or your manager, with an urgent update about work.
But no - it's an unknown number. A UK number, as it appears.
Confused, you click answer anyway, putting it to your ear with a tentative, "Hello, who is this?"
"Hi, darling."
"Ewan?"
"Yeah, uhm, I hope I didn't disturb you - "
"Not at all," your answer comes out in a rushed breath.
"I also hope you don't mind that I got my assistant to ask your assistant to give me your number? It's what I wanted to ask you before you left today."
"Oh." You feel fully awake now, by some miracle, butterflies finding home in your stomach. "I don't mind. I... I should have given you my number, anyway. I have most of the cast's, in case I need to get a hold of you guys."
"Hmm, right," he says from the other end. You hear him calmly breathing, the sound strangely comforting, and wonder if he can hear the same from you.
He says, "I just wanted to keep hearing your voice. Didn't get enough of it today," and your heart just about stops.
"Oh. Okay," is all you are able to respond with.
"What are you doing?"
"Just... just getting ready for bed." Phone pressed to your ear, you shuffle around the room, putting some things back in place.
He says nothing for a few seconds, but you still hear his breathing, and some shuffling in the background. It occurs to you that he might just be as nervous as you are now.
Maybe.
"Listen," he finally says, "do you want to hear my pitch to Ryan about why our characters should get together next season?"
A genuine laugh escapes you. He sure is persistent. Playful, sure, but you're definitely willing to play along.
"Let's hear it."
"First," he says, "you have to renounce Daemon as your favourite character - "
"Not a chance."
" - and swear your love for Aemond."
"Keep dreaming."
He laughs, and you can only picture the corners of his eyes crinkling.
"Aww darling," he teases, "don't you love me?"
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💌 part two - part three
The OGs will know that the final line is a nod to my first ever Aemond fic! 🖤
Did this slightly delay my series works? Yes, yes it did. Do I regret it? For Ewan frickin Mitchell, I would never ~
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jinxs-gf · 8 months ago
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The Human Spider
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The Team x Spider!Reader
summary: you are this universe’s one and only spider-person.
warnings/content: set before the 1st episode of young justice s1, a few marvel references, this whole thing is from the perspective of the reader who’s basically Spider-Man so the writing is a bit silly…but I like it
word count: 2.1k
a/n: this is essentially an introduction to this world, I’m really hoping I can pop a couple fics within this little universe 😭🙏🏽 if not then…I’m sorry LMAO. only time will tell. ENJOY!!!
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Life was good.
I mean, how could it not be? You got to fight side by side with some of Earth's greatest heroes. Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Flash...oh and Black Canary and—
Yeah. It was great. Not to mention how incredibly easy it was for you to defeat the bad guys you'd fought. You definitely didn't have four near death experiences because of them!
Well you did, but they were completely your fault and not at the hands of a couple of phony villains. They happened before you got used to your powers and gone through extensive training.
It seemed like a curse at first, but now you take them with stride. Your super strength foreign as you'd broke nearly everything in your apartment (that hadn't been a fun thing to explain to your Aunt and Uncle when they came home to a trashed place). Sticky hands well...getting stuck to literally everything. The amount of money you spent replacing your clothes after accidentally ripping up your whole closet only trying to get ready for school...that was also not fun explaining to your guardians.
And the webs. Oh boy. You didn't want to think about it. The hole in your wrist that shot out webs like a proper spider freaked you out the most. You nearly turned yourself in to the government after that one. It was something that took the most mental work to control, the weird hole (yuck) closing up when you didn't need it.
The one thing you did appreciate immediately was the abs. Yeah, those were nice to wake up to one morning.
Today was just another day in your life. A simple mission happening in the middle of the city. Actually it was a pretty unusual mission, it wasn't the regular Ice Family or Joker cult you were fighting...but a Rhino. Seemingly a man in a Rhino cosplay. And his henchmen? Definitely not something you see everyday, but you have seen weirder.
Speaking of his henchmen...there was a lot of them. Enough to keep each member of the team occupied. They had insanely advanced weaponry, surprisingly keeping the fight going for a while.
You hadn't realized so many of the guys were on you now, all surrounding you and trying to shoot at you with guns that weren't spitting out regular bullets.
You look to your side and see your best friend (he doesn't think so but that's what you tell everyone so deal with it sucker). Speedy, Green Arrow's sidekick, Roy Harper under the mask, and Pain in the Ass (a nickname you'd affectionately given him) to you.
You were in a compromising position, one that you could easily get yourself out of. But now you've spotted an unoccupied Roy and you wanted to have a little fun admist the chaos.
"Hey pain in my ass! A little help here!" The men were now taking shots with their fists, all failing to land their hits of course. And your best friend had completely ignored you.
"Hellooooo you know I'm talking to you!"
"I told you I wouldn't answer when you called me that. And I thought I made myself very clear." Definitely referring to the embarrassing way he took you down in front of the team after harassing him all week with the nickname a month ago.
"Well you answered right now soo...."
An arrow suddenly flew right past you, nearly grazing your cheek. A couple more followed.
"Um hello?! You nearly took me out!"
"That's my way of saying cut it out while saving your ass. And don't your spidey senses detect that kind of stuff? Danger and threats? You should've seen them coming."
"Huh. Guess you aren't as threatening as you think you are. At least not with that silly little hat on."
He simply glared at you. He was definitely going to kick your ass later. (Again).
With your guys dealt with, you turned to watch as Flash and Kid Flash emptied out a school bus on the road. Well, watched was a strong word. The job was done before you could fully process what was happening.
And suddenly that same school bus was being throw your way by the Rhino-man. Directly above your head actually.
Uh oh.
CRASH!
This was the third time that's happened to you this week!
He had good aim, you'll admit. It landed on you perfectly, but thanks to your incredible strength he seemingly didn't know about (how could he not? You're literally the Spider-Person from tv! Spider-Person...pfft what a stupid name. No one seemed to come up with something better), the biggest indicator to this being his shocked face. Oh how you loved that look. You threw it right back at him. Jokes on Rhino-man, you also had incredible aim.
"It's gonna take a lot more than a school bus to take me out!" Although you could feel the nearly broken rib and bruises you'd need to get checked out before you went home today.
You sighed happily, dusting your hands, "light work to me. Maybe try one of those city buses next time? Might be heavier and more effective-"
The words barely left your mouth before a city bus was being throw at you, "Wait I didn't actually mean it!" You caught the bus this time. And although your senses knew the danger was coming, it was still a bus that caught you off guard with its weight. Your legs and arms quivered at the force of having to hold it up, you could feel every bruise spotted on your body with the strain and it was not fun. While your body healed faster than the average human, it definitely wasn't fast enough to recover from the previous hit.
The back of the bus was fully tipped to the sky. You prayed there was no one in this thing. And sure you were strong, but there was no way you could tip it back on its wheels without potentially hurting someone.
Luckily Superman helped you with that, seeing you struggle. He easily took it off your hands (show off) and maneuvered it so it was placed safely back on the road.
"Thanks Supes!" He gave a nod and his famous smile.
It was only a couple more minutes of fighting and cars being thrown around before the whole thing was wrapped up. The adults would give their words to the police and news reporters, blah blah blah...
While they did that, you and your best friends, the teens (the cooler ones) got together like you always did after a mission.
Superman is being interviewed by the infamous Lois Lane (the talk of the teen team, there was definitely tension there).
All while Wally stands a little behind them making faces and ridiculous poses for the camera. The rest of you stood out of shot either cackling or rolling your eyes.
Wally steps back, clearly offended. "What? All he's doing is flirting with her in front of a live audience. Remember what they said last time? No one's gonna be paying attention to me."
Robin snickers, "What? The whole 'no one can take Superman' 'but you sure can'?" He repeats their words in poorly done impressions.
"That was totally an innuendo!"
"Very mature KF."
"Hey! Robin and Spider laughed with me. And I saw Speedy’s smirk, he sat there trying to pretend he didn't find it funny. Maybe you should get that stick out of your ass, Aqualad?"
Roy, completely serious, replies, "Now that's no way to talk to the adults' favorite."
You perk up, "oh, me?"
Your friends immediately explode into disagreement, apparently in disbelief you'd think such a thing.
It was a simple story, how it all came to be. You got bit by a spider (totally cool about it).
Totally didn't scream your ass off because of it and stay paranoid the rest of the day, constantly thinking there was a creepy crawler on you...no. You found out the next day that you weren't actually paranoid—if you were in the first place, which you were not! Because apparently the spider had camped out in your clothes all day and night...
You totally didn't scream your ass off again that morning at the revelation.
You did scream at the sight of abs on your body that same morning though. And that's the only reason you'll ever thank the spider, forget the cool powers.
After that you thought it would be cool to use your powers for good, inspired by your uncle. You decided to have your own cool hero costume, symbol, and name (which you still haven't gotten. You originally thought of the Human Spider. People on the streets called it dumb, claiming they would not be calling you that). You had (unfortunately) been (TEMPORARILY!) named the Spider-Person. Which was insanely stupid and you needed to come up with something quick before it stuck completely. Maybe the Human Spider wasn't so good but it wasn't as bad as your unofficial name now!
Anyways, as for the cool hero costume. You had to use what you had at the time, which was...your normal clothes. Getting a costume online seemed cheap, and dressing up as an existing character in the media and saving people seemed wrong. It would only deny your identity as a hero. So you put on whatever clothes (mostly colorful pajamas) that you had, covered the bottom half of your face with a bandanna, and called it a night. And boy did that get you a lot of ridicule, but you got the job done, right? The only thing it didn't do was protect your body from scrapes and...stab wounds. You hated little knives.
You're not the smartest in the world and it's not like you had the money someone like Bruce Wayne could pull out of their ass and make cool superhero wear.
Once you were recruited by Batman, he gave you your own hero costume—no, suit. Every suggestion you made was followed. It was perfect. The mask had to be your favorite part though. Something you didn't suggest was the some type of magic on it, something called hammerspace. Basically you could have any type of hair, or ears...probably even a pair of headphones on your head and it won't show through. It'll seemingly disappear to this hammerspace (you weren't sure how it worked exactly, but it works nonetheless so you won't question it). The magic was done by a team member who was needed very rarely named Zatara. Another man with a silly hat on his head.
You attempted to try it with Batman to see if his bat ears would disappear (which was completely encouraged by Robin by the way. No- completely his idea!) He was not happy. (You got benched for a month...no patrols, no missions...and Robin got off scott-free! How was that fair?!)
Wally starts to bring up your part of the fight, specifically the bus incident.
"Hey isn't that the third time that's happened to you this week?"
You sigh, exasperated and playing it up, "yes."
Robin butts in before you could say anything more, "Couldn't you have caught them? Y'know with your spidey senses and incredible strength?" He has the nastiest smirk on his face. His smartass totally figured you out.
"Well yeah, duh. But it's fun seeing the looks on the bad guys' faces when they realize I'm not dead and I can carry a however many pound bus! Is that so bad?"
"No but it's embarrassing for us."
"What? What's that supposed to mean?"
"Yeah, our best friend who's powers include crazy senses that gives them insane reflexes? That best friend can't catch a big, yellow bus being thrown at them? Embarrassing." The one time Roy will take the claim as your best friend is when he's insulting you? Unsurprising.
Kaldur cut in, sensing your defense a mile away, "It is pretty shameful of you."
Your jaw dropped, even Kaldur of all of people was agreeing? Oh this is insane!
You point a figure at your friends, trying to get your threat across, "Well I find that incredibly offensive and you should all take that back before I-"
"Isn't the point of your powers to detect danger before it comes? How come that's the third time this week you've been hit by a school bus? It's embarrassing, Spider." Batman's monotone voice made his words all the more insulting. Your frown deepened.
You sigh, "Yup. Real embarrassing for me. I got that."
"No, embarrassing for me. I've got a reputation to keep up."
He walks away without another word.
"I can't tell if he was trying to joke around like you guys were, but I'm still offended."
"He was being dead serious. And for the record, so were we."
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I wrote this before I wrote my Conner fic. I just realized I made Batman tease reader at the end of both fics…??
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tenebraevesper · 4 months ago
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Sonic X Shadow Takeover Analyzer (Part 2)
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I was so excited to hear this Takeover since it is only Sonic and Shadow talking to each other and answering question. It is one of those times where you get to see their dynamic without anyone else's input.
Since I feel like I could write an essay about these two, I decided to instead put all my thoughts into bullet points, this being Part 2 of my list:
Obligatory ''Shadow likes Latinas'' joke.
I love how Sonic sees their rivalry as a friendly competition, even describing it as being two sides of the same coin and pushing each other to be better. Shadow points out how he fights because he has a purpose and he will fight Sonic if their ideals clash. Sonic isn't buying it, though. He really wants to make it clear that his presence is important to Shadow and he wants to hear that from Shadow himself. Shadow finally agrees, with Sonic sounding so proud of himself.
Addendum: Considering how the cutscene battle in Sonic X Shadow Generations went, Shadow definitely can't resist fighting Sonic to best him, regardless of his own goals. Their rivalry gives him purpose.
''GO OFF KING!!'' Sonic, what?! X3
Shadow goes on a rant about Super Monkey Ball, with Sonic immediately trying to apologize for the whole thing. It's hilarious!
''THOSE MONKEYS NEED TO PUT ON SOME PANTS!!'' Shadow, you don't even wear pants.
I love how when Sonic and Shadow talk about Jet, Sonic immediately turns the question to be about their rivalry, pointing out how their little competition is why Shadow keeps Sonic around. Shadow just groans in exasperation, but we all know Sonic's telling the truth.
Black Doom really has an obsession with Radical Highway. I suppose Radical Highway is to Shadow what Green Hill Zone is to Sonic. Also, love how Shadow retorts to Sonic's ''Radical'' pun by calling him ''Mr. Green Hill Zone''.
When they're asked to draw something, their immediate response is to draw each other, with Sonic even trying to give some input to Shadow. They're not the best at it, though; something they wholeheartedly agree on.
Shadow is so proud to have his Year, and Sonic likes it too, to the point of showering him with constant compliments. Shadow enjoys it, but claims how he's not ''seeking attention''. Nobody's buying that Shadow.
Sonic Shuffle get mentioned!!
Shadow played chess with Maria, which is really nice. Also, if Sonic ever plays chess with Shadow, he'd totally be the guy who eats the chess pieces, much to Shadow's confusion. Also, the fact that Shadow claims how Sonic would lose on purpose to annoy him is both hilarious and also kinda sweet, considering how Sonic has been acting in this whole Takeover.
Fadel is back and trying to get into either Team Hero or Team Dark... and Sonic and Shadow clearly refuse to have him on their teams. I find it hilarious how Sonic immediately directs him to Team Dark and Shadow claims how applications are closed, then points him at Team Hero and gaslights Sonic into reluctantly accepting Fadel into the team.
I actually watched Games Cage's reaction to that, and he is completely oblivious to the fact that Sonic is being passive-aggressive by mentioning how Tails called dibs on their only parachute, meaning Sonic is cool with letting the guy fall off the Tornado. X3
Sonic is so persistent about wanting to hug Shadow! I get Sonic Prime vibes from this and I'm loving it.
''I don't need... your kind of hugs.'' There's two things I can conclude from this:
Shadow only likes the hugs Maria and Amy gave.
Shadow actually would be fine with Sonic hugging him, but they have to be meaningful rather than fleeting considering his earlier comment. Sonic is totally oblivious to that, though.
Sonic Boom ''Shadow broods in a cave'' reference!
Besides training, Shadow's hobby is reading. He's a bookworm, and Sonic sounds so excited about learning that. I can totally see Sonic thinking about dragging Shadow into another Storybook Adventure.
Shadow's first time turning Super was still him learning how to control that power. It explains why he ran out of energy back then, while Sonic had more experience and could keep it longer. Sonic also keeps complimenting Shadow about looking cool in his Super Form, even calling him wise for pointing out how that power needs to be controlled.
WHY DOES SONIC HAVE ABRAHAM TOWER ON SPEED DIAL?!
Shadow definitely doesn't work for G.U.N. That's something that has been confirmed. I have to say, the whole conversation between the Commander and Shadow was really awkward, but the kicker is Sonic's being oblivious to the whole awkwardness. He is so proud that he arranged a call between them.
I love how Sonic's neutral opinion about Orbot changes immediately the moment he hears Shadow's own thoughts on the robot. Once Shadow says he dislikes Orbot, Sonic immediately agrees with him, and when Orbot offers to get them coffee, causing Shadow to like him, Sonic also agrees that Orbot is fine. This really feels like Sonic wants Shadow's approval by agreeing with his opinions.
Sonic and Shadow are arguing about who is better at raising their Chao. They legit sound like married couple arguing about how to take care of their children. Sonic is definitely the fun dad, while Shadow has to take care of the discipline.
Shadow doesn't believe in ghosts, despite Sonic pointing out how they ran into paranormal stuff several times. Sonic also tries to scare him a couple of times, with Shadow showing no reaction.
Shadow's favorite Doom Power is Doom Morph, and Sonic is a little jealous of that form once he hears more about it. The fact that Shadow just keeps bragging about it and annoying Sonic is hilarious.
''Skill issue!'' Lol, Shadow. I can imagine Sonic rolling his eyes at that comment.
Shadow scolds the person who listens to the Twitter Takeover instead of studying for their exam. He really cares about their education, while Sonic points out how he needs to lighten up.
Let's be honest, Sonic and Shadow definitely love hanging out with each other, admitting it in their own way that they care about each other.
I believe that this Takeover proves that Sonic and Shadow really have a good dynamic when they sit down and hang out with each other. They bicker, they tease each other, they come to agreements and disagreements, they care... It is so enjoyable to listen to them and I'm looking forward to seeing more!
Oh, and yeah, this was a feast for the Sonadow fans, if you ask me. I hope you guys will enjoy my notes, because I'm definitely going to take advantage of all the new information I got. I can't wait for the meal we'll get once the Sonic the Hedgehog 3 movie comes out.
#Sonic X Shadow Takeover Analyzer (Part 1)
#Sonic Cyber Revolution (Masterlist)
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fadingstudentbananacookie · 10 months ago
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It's hilarious how Daemon and Rhaenyra's grandchildren carry the Green's legacy in spirit by destroying House Targaryen through internal conflicts decades later.
Aegon IV grows up to be far more extreme and gluttonous than Aegon II could ever be, coupled with a greater degree of cowardice (Aegon II would never). His sister Naerys is a little Helaena/Alicent-coded, but her cousin Daena mirrors Alicent more than I could imagine. And I am precisely talking about book!Alicent here.
Both Alicent and Daena were unapologetic in their pursuit of power after years of abuse and neglect, demanding the realm recognize their sons as kings by birthright. Neither of them gave two fucks about starting a civil war and I call that a slayyy. Go, my queens!
If Daena had been more like Rhaenyra, believe me when I say I wouldn't have liked her as much. It's their defiance that makes both Alicent and Daena more compelling characters.
I don't necessarily think Daena would have liked Alicent, but she would have definitely felt grudging respect and admiration for her courage and intelligence.
Daeron the Young Dragon is just like Daeron the Daring (both are extremely popular among the nobles and the smallfolk). Both died young and were eternalized. Baelor the Blessed is obsessed with catholicism and guilt to a point that would even scare Alicent and Criston.
Aemon the Dragonknight is essentially a more refined, though not necessarily cooler, version of Aemond One-Eye. Aemon literally stood aside while his sister endured years of sexual and psychological abuse from her brother-husband. Aemond would never have stood by if Aegon II had tried to harm Helaena. His loyalty and protectiveness towards his sister would have driven him to intervene. Their love stories are similar too, with many fans shipping Aemond with Helaena, and Aemon with Naerys.
Elaena is intriguing, but there's not much to say about her or her sister Rhaena.
Daemon and Rhaenyra's grandchildren are worse than the Targtowers in every aspect. Alicent and her children de-stabilized House Targaryen during the Dance, but Rhaenyra's grandchildren did so much worse by starting a civil war that lasted for generations to come. (Team Black got the realm and power back, and they still fucked up. Again.)
Another intriguing aspect is that Alicent and her children had legitimate reasons to resist and fight for Aegon's claim to the throne by feudal right—even if those reasons were fueled by spite and revenge. Alicent endured years of sexual abuse from Viserys, bearing children he barely acknowledged. She was humiliated in court and called "mad" when her son lost his eye, and Rhaenyra's son faced no repercussions—not even a slap on the wrist.
The Targtower children were neglected by their father for years and were practically forgotten when Rhaenyra lived in the Red Keep with her sons in tow. (And if you think Rhaenyra didn’t use her father’s love and rejection of his other children as a political machination, then you’re an absolute idiot.) If usurping her throne was the biggest fuck you they could give Rhaenyra and Viserys, then I fully support it!
Despite their complicated and angry feelings towards each other, the Greens would never act on them to cause significant harm. They understood that they only had each other for support and protection. But Rhaenyra's grandchildren, who were also in a similar situation, harbored outright hatred for each other for no reason! You'd think after the Dance, they would have learned a thing or two about the importance of family, but the gang didn't give a single fuck LMAO.
Daemon and Rhaenyra's grandchildren didn't have significant opposition. House Targaryen held substantial power and ruled over the Great Houses. Only they had to be more cautious now that they didn't have dragons to threaten others.
All the unnecessary strife could have been avoided if Daena and her sisters were treated more like actual human beings rather than cattles or prized broodmares kept on a dusty shelf. Just like if Viserys I and the rest of his family had treated Alicent and her children better than jumpstarters and outsiders who were ambitious for the Iron Throne. The lack of care and respect towards Alicent and Daena sowed the seeds of war, leading to the internal conflicts that ultimately weakened the dynasty even further.
The generational cycle of abuse and neglect within House Targaryen is one of the key reasons why they were driven to extinction in merely three centuries. House Hightower and House Baratheon only did so little to show their true color.
Rhaenyra's claim that "The only thing that could tear down the House of the Dragon was itself," couldn't be more accurate!
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queenvhagar · 4 months ago
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It’s hilarious when TBs cry “Rhaenyra TRAINED to be heir” because that honestly makes her look worse. Wdym she spent 20 years training and managed to fuck things up more than Aegon, who got pulled out of the trash 2 days ago?
Legitimately and it's why nerfing the Greens was such a dumb choice 😭
Like what do you mean you apparently trained your whole life (which btw spending years away from court hiding from bastard rumors "managing" Dragonstone is not really training for ruling an entire kingdom, especially when it comes to navigating political realities when in power) (but then again that's something she no doubt figured she could ignore in favor of ruling with hardcore fire and blood and fear of dragons and Daemon)
Like apparently you "trained your whole life" for this and you're somehow the only one divinely ordained and suited and qualified enough to rule...
AND YET SOMEHOW up against these apparently incompetent, short-sighted, impulsive Greens, who are made up of:
- a drunk dude who's apparently never been trained to rule despite him ruling being the plan since he was a baby, who appoints his unqualified and unnamed frat boys to Kingsguard, bullies his brother in public, drunk flies his dragon to battle, and executes a dozen dudes for "no reason" causing a "PR disaster"
- a kinslayer attempted kingslayer who took out one of his side's only dragons and rider because he got bullied :( and now he hates his brother and wants power and also he's gonna nuke a village for no reason except to feel powerful and manly I guess... also he unfairly does nothing about Rhaenyra's blockade and it's HIS fault people are starving from the blockade apparently and that's why the common people LOVE Rhaenyra SO much
- the dowager queen who converted to Team Black out of sapphic longing for a woman she was friends with decades ago for a couple of years, who willingly sells out her entire family to the enemy, including the son she crowned, two other sons fighting for the war she started, her father who was her only ally at court, her brother who was the only one to sympathize with her position, her sworn shield who lives to serve her and protect her family, her uncle and his men leading the Hightower host out of Oldtown, most of her family's dragons who will die defending their riders... all for the chance to win the favor of a woman who never showed any ounce of care for how her life turned out and the sacrifice she made (in fact the woman who was remorseless about her son's eye getting cut out, who blatantly pushed lies that endangered her whole family, who married a man who hates her whole family and wants them dead) (she fails in winning her favor) but girls stick together - girl power! And she's finally free from the confines of medieval feudalist patriarchy :) (except there's nowhere for her to go and no way to live her life as a free woman in any capacity as the wife of the former king and a highborn lady, unless she wants to try to be a survivalist in the wild or go to Essos and join a pleasure house, which, again, not really "free" and sustainable long term options for her)
- a poor helpless infantalized neurodivergent woman who can't even ride her dragon because she doesn't like it for some reason and she's incapable of acting outside of autistic stereotypes, also she's totally fine about her 6 year old getting murdered in front of her very eyes now, and actually she's gonna use her visions to condemn the brother who's always had her family's back up until this point and instead help the man responsible for her child's death, because she's seen the Grand Design and wants to help Team Black now :)
- "misogynist incel" but somehow also at the same time "Alicent worshipping and unreasonably Rhaenyra hating sex toy" (don't think about why he might have valid reasons to hate this particular woman) who doesn't think ahead and is apparently the most violent terrible hypocritical person in this show (don't think too hard about the show making him Dornish and casting a brown actor and the implications it has for this character on and off screen because the show and mainstream fandom won't!)
- offscreen brother nobody barely remembers who only just started riding his dragon apparently
- former Hand of the King immediately fired and sent away and captured off screen after doing nothing to help the war effort apparently
- Lannister twin off to Essos to fuck several wives and mud wrestle LOL!!
- foot fetishist shadowy creep (don't think about how they made a disabled character have a fetish involving their disability for no reason)
AND YET SOMEHOW against THESE villains... she can't even beat them 😭 she can't beat THESE guys who at this point are actively helping her out... she can't take and hold the throne against THESE Greens...
Like way to just completely make her and her team look equally incompetent by failing to take on THESE foes and instead elect to... mope... complain... do nothing except what others tell you to do... basically make no real decisions of your own except... dress as a nun and sneak into enemy territory with no real plan, leaving nobody in charge while you're gone despite a war looming... and burn a group of people alive for no reason to get dragons that you immediately refuse to use... ride dragon... speak a foreign language... cry... kiss your advisor immediately after she opens up about being violently assaulted and mutilated and never bring it up again... girlboss 💪💅
Truly astounding how badly they managed to fumble the bag with the show. Like. My god 😭 THIS was your vision for the historic Dance of Dragons aka the worst civil war in Westerosi history where both sides were Targaryens with dragons who destroyed each other and the Realm in their quest for power? Like THIS is what the singers in mainline ASOIAF books were singing about? 😭😭😭 bruh 😭😭😭
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nabi-unveiled · 24 days ago
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Episode 4 of Secret Relationships was a whole lot of fun now that I've settled into this is pure makjang mode. Makjang isn't meant to be taken seriously. It can still have symbols and parallels, and this one definitely does. However, I expect narrative inconsistencies, questionable character portrayals, and just a whole bunch of nonsensical shenanigans when I approach a makjang.
As I predicted, Sung-hyun is still crossing boundaries. Da-on is dead-ass drunk, and Sung-hyun knows it. We also know that Sung-hyun is NOT drunk himself. Green flag? I think not.
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But the show obviously doesn't paint this (or his confession when Da-on is having a hard time) as problematic.
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Which confirms a lot of what I pointed out in my deep dive of the first three episodes. He's our "good boy" who is not really all good, but we'll pretend is all good for the sake of our narrative. The show gods and his grandma believe in his goodness after all.
We now know where Su-hyeon gets his violent streak from.
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And we could quibble over whether violence is ever warranted, but....
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it wasn't NOT warranted in this situation. Definitely reasonable by makjang drama standards. Actually, by most drama standards.
Punching Jae-min was reasonable too.
It almost makes up for you being a bit of a pathetic loser Su-hyeon.
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Really? Calling everyone to a meeting for this? You couldn't even manage a good bluff to make it look legit? You do not deserve this company.
Jae-min is being my kind of sexy villain as he moves around his chess pieces in his fabulous fits. Seriously, I might should question how attractive I find this man. (in FICTION people, don't come at me)
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He makes deliciously unhinged statements that are way more threatening than Su-hyeon's rage,
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Pulls villain moves straight out of Peach Girl (Side note - I was talking about the naked pictures, but there's a really stupid agreement that leads to fake dating between the villain and side character to prevent the side from dating the lead in that show too),
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And we are going to get to watch him slowly lose control as evidenced by this great mirror cracking shot. Delightful.
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Da-on's sister has Jae-min's number. Glad someone does.
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But why doesn't Da-on let sis live with him? It's out of character for Da-on, and he admits he's lonely.
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Jae-min is behind that decision one way or another. I'd lay bets.
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However, maybe not. I obviously missed the memo on some things...like the significance of this blue handkerchief.
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Did I miss it? It's possible. I know the importance of the OTHER handkerchief.
But it could also be inconsistent or poor writing. Because Mr. Jung Da-on who ALWAYS comes to the company parties (except for Sung-hyun's welcome) and ALWAYS takes care of his team mates (according to ep 1)....
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That same man - he's now causing shockwaves because he's taking care of his team member and drinking with everyone.
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Note - I actually think this is probably meant to convey that Sung-hyun is special. There's also probably nuance being lost in translation. But it's still muddled writing from where I sit.
But I no longer care, because this is a makjang and Da-on is ALSO getting assertive and handsy. He's the one that grabs Sung-hyun's arm in this episode to lead him away.
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He puts his hand on his shoulder as he serves as Sung-hyun's black knight. I do love the black knight/black rose trope.
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He also makes a gif-worthy block of his man to prevent him from drinking any more liquor. I really need to learn how to make GIFs.
And he initiates that kiss....not that Sung-hyun offered ANY resistance.
Da-on's actions are speaking, Now if only Da-on's actual dialogue made any sense to me.
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But WHY shouldn't you have said it sweetie? There are at least five SOLID possible meanings behind this statement that I thought of without even pausing.
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And why are you asking such a weird question Sung-hyun? The man hasn't done THAT much for you. And Da-on's response? We're back to muddled land. There's about 10 different ways I can interpret that statement without breaking a sweat.
In the end, we are left to wonder...how will Sung-hyun respond?
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Because that definitely wasn't his name that got called in the middle of their dubcon make-out session.
Hmm.
But the real question is ....should I go back and look for the blue handkerchief or should I let it go?
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Decisions. Decisions.
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rita-repulsa-ke · 4 months ago
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Death and the Black Widow
“Come see,” Death says, turning away, toward a well-lit path and the mists beyond.
“No,” Natasha says. She’s not going anywhere with anyone, not without more information. She sinks her weight into the ground, watches the ominous being in front of her slowly rotate to try and stare her down.
Natasha has fought gods and monsters. She doesn't flinch in the face of Death.
Natasha dies, and Death is waiting.
Natasha Romanoff is falling.
There’s peace in falling. There’s peace in ending. She’s finally cleared the red off her ledger. She can rest. The life that flashes before her eyes mostly isn’t worth reliving, but she grabs for the good parts. She saved the world a few times, that’s got to be worth something. She was part of a team of good people, some of them too good, she worries what will become of them. In her experience, the world doesn't have much room for good people.
She’s glad she met them, though. She’s proud she stood shoulder-to-shoulder with heroes. She's become someone who can face herself in the mirror. She isn't afraid to die.
Natasha Romanoff falls. She doesn’t remember hitting the ground.
“Hi,” the stranger says.
Natasha assesses her on instinct. Five foot six, wearing ornate green robes and some kind of headdress. Pretty.
Not even a little human. Not breathing, barely blinking, watching her complete her assessment with mild curiosity.
“You know, I always assumed nothing happened after you died,” Natasha tells the stranger, coming instantly to the correct conclusion. “That it all went black. Actually, I think I found that comforting.” Maybe she should have asked Stephen, he might have known. She's missed her window now.
“Sorry to disappoint,” Death says. “It’s a bit more complicated than that.”
It always is. Life always has been, she shouldn't have expected death to be any different. "What happens next?”
“Come see,” Death says, turning away, toward a well-lit path and the mists beyond.
“No,” Natasha says. She’s not going anywhere with anyone, not without more information. She sinks her weight into the ground, watches the ominous being in front of her slowly rotate to try and stare her down.
Natasha has fought gods and monsters. She doesn't flinch in the face of Death.
“Ugh. I hate the stubborn ones,” Death complains. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
“The answer to my question. What happens next?”
”What do you want to have happen next? Do you want it all to end in darkness?”
She thinks about that. Once, she would have been glad to simply stop. The business of living, as a spy and assassin, had been a bloody one. She had lived anyway, simply because she was too good to die.
It’s different now. She’s seen that life can be better, that the Red Room that shaped and warped her so she never quite fit into the world wasn’t how things had to be.
“I want to try again,” she says. “I want to be reborn.”
“You sure? You won’t remember anything. And there could be a paradise on the other side of that veil.”
Maybe she should ask more questions, but Natasha is used to making decisions on incomplete information and making hard choices, for herself and others. And she doesn't want paradise yet, if it exists at all. She can't imagine it and maybe she still doesn't feel quite worthy of it.
Instead, she wants something much simpler.
"I'm sure,” she says. “…I assume I don't get to pick, but it would be nice if…”
“It was better than last time?” Death suggests.
Natasha shakes her head. That’s too much to ask for and anyway, better is subjective. She’s saved the world, she’s befriended amazing people, she wouldn’t trade this life for anything, and she could only do that because of who and what she was. She's not sorry she got to be the Black Widow.
But for the next life—even thinking it is hard, much less saying it. Her whole life has been about guarding herself, never being vulnerable. Asking for things from supernatural beings is definitely vulnerable.
It’s her last chance, though. Might as well go big.
“Maybe just the beginning?” she asks.
“…Sure,” Death says after a moment, a strange, sad smile playing across her lips. ”That can be arranged."
Natasha is just going to have to trust her. That goes against her nature, she doesn't trust anyone, but she's got no choice. Death is holding all the cards. She extends her hand. "Take me, then."
Rio Vidal, Death incarnate, takes the hand of the Black Widow and walks with her beyond the veil.
In a hospital, a woman strains, holds her wife's hand in a crushing grip, her expression one of mixed joy and agony as the baby, their baby, makes its way into the world.
Rio, invisible, watches the birth, the smiles, the tears, the way the two women tuck close to stare at a tiny, red face.
"There," she murmurs. "That's the best beginning anyone could have."
Then Death is gone and only life remains.
Link to the small collection of Agatha fics I've written
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gwenllian-in-the-abbey · 8 months ago
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Not fluent in English. 
Please tell me I’m not the the only who noticed that team green characters in the show aren’t allowed to hate team black characters. 
Like Aemond can’t even hate Lucerys for cutting his eye and disabled him for life. 
And Alicent can’t hate Viserys for marrying and gr*ping her and forcing pregnancies on her, even though he have no intention to name any of their sons his heir, and treating her mostly like a caretaker and concubine rather than his lawful wife and the mother of his legitimate children. 
Aegon and Helaena aren’t even allowed to hate Daemon the man who ordered the death of their Son.
Like why??? Why aren’t they allowed to hate them???
Hi aleksandra! You make a good point! I think there are a few things going on here.
For one, I think the writing is incredibly inconsistent across the board this season, and there are a lot of dropped plot threads. Some of it is intentional (like, I do think B&C was deliberately downplayed and undermined so that Alicent could have that Dragonstone scene, more on that in a bit), some of it I think is just bad writing and a kind of ... well, look, I can't speculate as to what goes down in the writer's room and have no idea what their workflow looks like or what processes they follow, but a problem going back to S1 is that characters and dialogue vary a lot from episode to episode. I don't think it's all that normal for a fandom to be concerned ahead of time about which writers will be writing which scenes and which episodes, but with HotD there seem to be huge differences in how each writer interprets the characters. Having worked on OFCIR collaboratively with @aifsaath, we work really hard to make sure the chapters are relatively consistent. I gave our first few chapters to my critique partner for original fiction, a guy who knows my writing inside and out, someone I've worked with for about 6 years now, @theravenpiper, and he could not actually tell which scenes were written by me, and which were written by Aife, which I took as a big complement to our collaborative process, and to our ability to edit to a uniform standard. Now I'm not saying we do it better than the HotD writers, but I do think that there is something missing from their collaborative process that makes the entire thing seem disjointed.
I do not think it is entirely that the whole of team green is not allowed to be angry at team black, although that is part of it, some of it is part of an overall bigger problem where major events are not allowed to resonate across the story, and I chalk some of it up to simple bad writing. Rhaenyra is apparently over Luke's death enough by E3 that she can seek out Alicent for some kind of vague "let's stop this madness" ploy, but still conveniently needs "a son for a son" in E8. Although Rhaenyra is negotiating from a position of power in E8, there was no reason for her to feel so desperate as of E3, when Rook's Rest hasn't even happened yet, that she would set aside her grief and anger and go seek peace. Peace was offered in E10 of season 1 and Rhaenyra turned it down after Luke died, so what has changed besides Rhaenyra's own husband beheading a toddler? Other events happen too and have little or no consequence. Rhaenyra and Mysaria kiss in E6 and it's entirely forgotten by E8, with zero follow up. Criston Cole is brought to his knees by the sight of Aegon lying injured by his dragon, but never even visits his bedside. Gwayne never interacts with anyone aside from Alicent and Criston. Rhaenyra sends her younger children to the Vale and never mentions them again (she is shown looking wistfully at a box of toys), nor does Jace. Laena in a vision berates Daemon for not looking after their girls, but does he ask after them when Broome shows up directly from Dragonstone? I could go on. Events just happening and then never really mattering again is a consistent problem throughout the season, which makes it hard to tell when it is happening deliberately and when it is happening because the writers can't get on the same page.
There are two things I do think are deliberate, however, one of them being the scrubbing of Viserys' image. While audiences loved Paddy's performance, a lot of viewers did pick up on how Viserys played favorites and neglected his sons, and I think when the show decided to switch up Alicent's motivation from "she wants to protect her children and knows they will face the sword if Rhaenyra comes to power" to "she misheard Viserys' last words," they knew that the natural question is, "why should she care about Viserys' last words?" A lot of the immediate feedback about that episode involved how Alicent was stupid for not knowing Otto planned to have Aegon take the throne, and a lot of people didn't think that Alicent (or Aegon for that matter) really believed that Viserys changed his mind, but apparently that was the writers' intention, that Alicent truly believed it and managed to convince Aegon (there's a lot I could say about how they could have included this deathbed misunderstanding into the plot without having it replace all of Alicent's other motivations, but they did not do that). So in order to drive home the point that the whole entire war is being fought due to this misunderstanding, they have to make sure the audience is clear that all of these characters considered Viserys a good king. Even if he was Alicent's rapist. Even if he was a deadbeat dad. Even if he was a terrible husband. We are meant to believe he chose Rhaenyra not because he was playing mindgames or out of guilt over Aemma's death, no we must believe he chose Rhaenyra because he was good and wise and to convince us he was good and wise we have to have the green characters reminding us constantly that things were so much better when Viserys was around, that Aegon is inferior to Viserys, that Viserys' wishes are all that matter. Nevermind that it goes directly against the book, never mind that it's not even a particularly powerful or interesting change, it's what enables Rhaenyra and Alicent's relationship to continue. Because here's the thing-- if Alicent put Aegon on the throne because she felt it was the only way to keep her family safe, and because she feels that law and tradition ARE on her side, and because absolutism isn't good (!!!) then there's no chance for her and Rhaenyra to ever reconcile. These are irreconcilable differences, not misunderstandings. And so the show has to glaze Viserys otherwise the basic reasoning falls apart.
And the second is the events like Luke's death, Blood and Cheese and Rook's Rest come in, events in which the greens or the blacks harm and traumatize each other directly. It is not that the greens are not allowed to hate the blacks, it is that Alicent is not allowed to hate Rhaenyra, and by extension, the people who Alicent cares about are not allowed to hate her (I would argue that Aemond is allowed to hate Luke on screen, he literally murders him, and I don't think the scene with the brothel madame is an expression of true remorse, it's more "I'm kinda sorta sorry there were consequences for my actions."). Alicent cares about Helaena the innocent, and therefore Helaena cannot be allowed to hate Rhaenyra (note Phia Saban's many interviews about how apolotical and neutral Helaena is). Aegon, on the other hand, can be affected by B&C because he is allowed to hate Rhaenyra. In fact, his hate for Rhaenyra puts him at odds with his mother, which is what the show wants. Aegon is gravely injured at Rook's Rest, but good thing Rhaenyra's forces did not cause the injuries, Alicent herself drove him to battle with cruel words, and Aemond burned him, which puts him at odds with Alicent too (and Helaena is allowed to express ire at Aemond by extension). If you look at S2 as an exercise in driving a wedge between Alicent and her family and downplaying what happens to them in order to justify their decision to have Alicent seek out Rhaenyra and surrender Aegon's life, it makes a lot more sense.
The thing is, it still doesn't work. Their efforts are much too transparent and require characters to act in ways that are simply not within the realms of how normal human beings would react to these situations, much less the characters established in S1. There is a twitter user, and I'm so sorry that I can't remember their name at the moment, but I've seen them express the sentiment several times that Alicent's character this season made them aware, in a way that a viewer should never be aware, that these are scripted lines coming out of her mouth. That is, a lot of the characters in S2 do not feel like actual people. Aegon is such a fan favorite this season because he feels real. Alicent garnered legions of fans last season because her struggle felt real, even if we didn't agree with it. She felt like a character who inhabited a quasi-medieval world, bound by restraints we are not bound by, but nevertheless a human with human reactions who had to make difficult choices and persevere through them. And any human would be angry beyond comprehension at Blood and Cheese, would lose all faith in Rhaenyra, would know that there can be no peace if she is ruling with a man that ruthless at her side. If she thinks her sons are devils (and mind, so far as king Aegon's most egregious action is executing a handful of ratcatchers after one of their number murdered his son, whereas Rhaenyra burned about 65 peasants alive in a quasi religious ecstasy-- will Alicent ever find out about that, I wonder?), they are at least the devils she knows. Better they all die than end up in Daemon's hands, surely? And so OP, you're right, they are not allowed to hate each other when naturally you, and many others, feel like they should. That is because they are writer creations who would never do such things as what happen in the books in the first place, acting out plot points of entirely different characters (their book counterparts).
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a horrible, terrible, awful, no-good realization
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MALLEUS DRACONIA IS LIKE N FROM POKEMON BLACK/WHITE AND BLACK/WHITE 2 😭 They're both emo and green/j
Think about it:
Mullet-y hair (N's sort of resembles a ponytail but upon closer inspection he doesn't seem to have a hair tie or anything)
They have a legion of loyal followers
They are royalty (N is the "king" of Team Plasma)
They have special powers that no one else does (yes, I'm counting N's ability to speak with Pokemon here)
They team up with a legendary dragon to force the world to comply with their own vision (Malleus's OB is Maleficent's dragon form, N forms a partnership with either Reshiram or Zekrom depending on the version you play)
They see themselves as benevolent even when they're doing questionable things or using force to achieve their goals
They're lonely as fuck largely due to how they were raised in isolation and with the sole purpose of "ruling" over others in the future (assume that the senators are the equivalent to Ghetsis)
They act somewhat distant and are socially awkward/don't know how to interact "normally" with others
They have a limited views + understandings of the world until they actually go out there and are exposed to different points of view
They both have buttloads of yumes/j
I DON'T KNOW HOW TO FEEL ABOUT THIS REVELATION 💀
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hart269 · 1 year ago
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Slithering Hearts
Chapter 4
Pairing : Regulus Black x Fem! Reader
Synopsis : You begin an unlikely friendship with the little Black. And soon your whole life seems to have become a tumultuous pathway. The catch, James Potter is your brother.
Notes : Just some rock cakes ;)
Masterlist / Series Masterlist
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James Potter, Marauder, almost selected Chaser of the Griffindor Quidditch team, stormed through the corridor, searching for you and thanking Merlin that his glasses hadn't cracked from the loud noise of the Howler. He spotted you in the courtyard, sitting with another Slytherin girl.
His eyes locked into yours, you did your best to hide your smirk as he came near,
"What the hell did you say to Mum?"
"James Potter talking to a slimy snake, what a wonder" You mocked then smirked, "And I only told her the truth, be glad I didn't tell dad" you crossed your arms.
James groaned, the irrational part of him still hated the green that adorned your robe, but it was closed from the yelling he had received. He sighed, probably accepting defeat, "Nothing can happen of you, can it, Zouwu"
You mock gasped, "How dare you say that, I perfectly did my wand lighting charm and my potion didn't even explode", your smirk had turned into a bright smile as you told excitedly about your lessons.
James watched you with a little smile on his face, in the end you were still the same, an annoying little shit. He still scoffed, "You are still earning house points for the slimy snake house"
"Not my fault you are losing yours playing silly pranks" You remarked chuckling at James's offended gasp.
---
The days went by smoothly, considering you did your best to avoid any kind of noticeable trouble. You did occasionally sneaked off to hang out with Hagrid, whom you met when a niffler attacked you, and he was called to take it away.
You liked talkimg to him but didn't have to heart to tell something about his rock cakes, not even when your spoon bended trying to crack it. Hagrid had chuckled at your horrified expresion.
Still, one dreary afternoon you stood on his gate, "Hello Hagrid, I was wondering if you'd let me bake a cake"
Hagrid chuckled, "Good thing, I was thinking of preparing some rock cakes today"
You blinked owlishly, before clearing your throat, "Hagrid, I was wondering if I could make it myself, it's my friend's birthday, you see"
Hagrid moved from the door, "Why don't you come in then, but I'm not sure if I have all the supplies, you need"
You nodded grinning, "I'm sure we'll be able to come up with something"
Dwindling between the actual lack of supplies and the persistent hugs of the niffler which once attacked you, you had managed up to conjure a real rock cake, which didn't actually feel like a rock. You left a spare cake for Hagrid and thanked him heartfully, for letting you cook. Bending down, you patted the niffler which again tried to lunge for your chain, "Bye Niffles"
And so you went to your next stop,
"Wait a minute baby potter, I'll call James"
Sirius said when he saw you coming.
"Actually Sirius, I needed to talk to you, it is Regulus's birthday" Sirius eyed you suspiciously, knowing the implication. "So?"
"Will you come to the Common room today at midnight" you looked at him with your best puppy eyes that you could conjure up.
"Me in Slytherin Common Room, Merlin's beard, I will not be caught dead there"
"Please Sirius, you mean a lot to him, you can come with the invisiblity cloak, he won't be happy without you" You almost begged, glancing up at him.
Sirius didn't say anything definitive just a "I'll think about it", you still told him the password to the common room.
It was certainly an accident about how you found about about this trivial matter, Regulus's birthday, while you knew everyone's else, you strangely didn't know his.
You were in library, Regulus had dropped his notebooks on a nearby table and gone to pick up a book. Among others, he carried a black leather notebook with him and behind it in small letters were his initial and birth date, which you so just happened to glance upon on as you looked closely, and knowing his tendency of seclusion, you made a plan.
So some time before midnight while most of the common room was empty, you sat there with your Potions homework, completing it now since you were busy the whole day. You looked at the raven haired boy who among others was about to leave for his dorm, "Reg, I don't get this part, can you please explain it?"
Regulus looked at you curiously, you excelled at your studies and more like never needed help, but he instantly agreed, "Sure" Regulus moved to sit beside you glancing at the homework, "Which exact part are you talking about, the cauldron mixing or the herb collection?"
"Herb collection" you nodded, taking notes while he explained the procedures and precaution. Between his ramblings, you glanced at the clock, few minutes to midnight, you were worried the rock cake beneath your cloak won't actually become rock.
"Are you here?" Regulus asked noticing your distracted look.
"Huh" You broke out of your trance, at his perturbed gaze, "Of course, you were telling that porcupine quills should never be added while the cauldron is boiling". Regulus nodded, but as he began to continue, the door or wall to the common room slid open, with no one in sight. You hid your grin, while Regulus stood up, his wand pointing out. Only a minute now.
Regulus heard footsteps in the barren comon room, he glanced back at you, to see you shuffling among your stuff, "Can you hear the footsteps too?"
"For Merlin's sake, couldn't you have walked slowly" You grinned, Regulus turned and his heart almost came out , only the head of Sirius floated in the air.
"Happy Birthday" you both silently cheered, shoving the cake in his face, Regulus stood still, Sirius shook him, "Hey, Reggie, are you broken?"
"No,I, um, I, thank you," he whispered, nodding, not trusting his voice, the cake was cut, Sirius took a big piece to take back, while you took a big bite. It could have been better.
You turned to Sirius, whispering, "Thankyou for coming"
"No probs", he clapped Regulus's back, "I'll be leaving, all the green is making me sick, thanks for the cake". Maybe Sirius wasn't fully in, but it was something.
Sirius left as he came, Regulus turned to you, "How did you know?"
With a mouthful of cake, you grinned, "Magic".
He looked as if he couldn't comprehend something, "But why?"
You stopped picking up your supplies, tilting your head you smiled a genuine one "Because you are my friend silly"
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Taglist : @shycreationdreamland @mp-littlebit @girlbooklover555
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beccaann22 · 7 months ago
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you look like you love me - riley green
pairing: riley green x fem!reader
summary: reader sees riley walk into the bar and knows just what she wants.
warnings: drinking, flirting, suggestive contents, love
i was all but 22
i think at the time
i'd been out on the road
lonely at night
and it had been awhile
so it was on my mind
y/n has been out at the bar all night so far with her friends. they're traveling following the rodeo as it makes it rounds through the southern and midwestern states. y/n is a barrel racer, while her friends range from tricker riders to bull riders. they had just wrapped up a long day of sweating in the hot sun of oklahoma while doing what they do best. putting on a show for the rodeo fans. and they loved it, they really did. y/n loved feeling the adrenaline right before she set off for that first barrel with her most precious belonging. cooper. her beautiful chestnut quarter horse. he's been with her since she was a teenager and has followed her on this journey with the rodeo. but y/n has been missing something for a while now and she can't seem to figure out what it is.
y/n and her friends where exushted though, they had been working since 7 this morning practicing and then the actual events themselves. needless to say they all needed a break. its currently eight o'clock at night and they'd been here since six in the evening. sure they had dinner here first before they started drinking but as soon as the last plate left, and round of tequila shots appeared at the table. currently y/n is currently nursing a strawberry daiquiri.
she was on a mission tonight. to get laid. its been far to long for her liking and it doesn't help that she's quit picky with her men. and she has a rule that she doesn't sleep with men she's working with. so that means all these rodeo boys she traveling with are off limits by her own rules. and she's fine with that, none of them quite do it for her anyways. too cocky in there own ways and don't quite look the part. she knows her type when she see's it though.
well, i saw him walk in
with his cowboy hat
and i thought to myself
i could use some of that
his boots like glass on a saw dust floor
had moves like nothing i had ever seen before
taking another sip of her drink, her eyes are drawn to the door when a rowdy group enters the bar. it's a group of men- cowboys- if you will and they were having the time of their lives tonight. they claim a booth not to far from y/n's booth with her friends. y/n nudges her friend, charlotte, in the side. nodding her head at the group of men next to them, y/n grins at charlotte. charlotte throws her head back laughing at y/n's antics and wiggles her eye brows back at y/n.
y/n jumps off the booth and lands her two feet on the floor, "hey y'all i'm gonna go get us another round real quick." her words quickly meet the ears of all her friends and they erupt in cheers. she giggles at them as she works her way up to the the bar. the bars not overly busy as it was a thursday night. but a majority of the rodeo crew was there, and there's quite a bit of them and the rest of the people who wanted to enjoy a night out with friends. she gets to the bar and leans against the counter waiting to get the bartenders attention. when she catches his eye and orders another round of beers this time she feels a presence next to her. from the corner of her eye she can see the side view of probably the most handsome man she's ever seen. he's wearing wrangler jeans that fit him just right in all the right places, a black carhartt shirt that hugs his biecps showing all his muscles, brown cowboy boots and black baseball hat for what she assumes is a football team. more then likely college. she turns her eyes back to the counter waiting for the beers.
the handsome man, riley, comes to be aware of his surroundings and notices the most beautiful girl next to him. his breath hitches completely caught off guard by her beauty. she was absolutely stunning to him. the most prettiest sight to see he was sure of it, and way out of his league. she was wearing these bootcut jeans that hugged her curves just right, brown cowboy boots and the prettiest lil shirt on her body hugging her chest and flaring out at the bottom. she had her hair curled and it was slightly messy from the days activities.
y/n could sense his eyes on her, so she thinks to herself, "screw it, what's the worst that could happen?" and she turns her head towards him and says, "well hi there cowboy," and gives him a cute little grin as she looks him up and down. this absolutely stuns riley, him not expecting her to acknowledge him, but boy is he glad she did.
putting on his big boy boots riley smiles down at the girl, he's 6'4' so naturally a lot of girls are shorter then him, and y/n's no exception. he swallows his nerves and breaths out a, "hello ma'am."
ma'am. he called he ma'am. y/n immediately melted. for some reason hearing him call her ma'am absolutely did it for her. she pulls herself together and rests her elbow on the counter and her chin on her hand, "you find something interesting that you're looking at," she asks him teasing him.
"yes ma'am, i found something quite pretty to look at while i wait for my drinks.. i'm riley by the way," he leans closer to her, so close that she can smell his cologne. boy oh boy does he smell good. there's no other way to describe it other then the scent of a hardworking man but comforting at the same time. husky and maybe a little sandal wood? leather perhaps. she has no idea what is it, all she knows is that it's her new favorite scent.
before she could reply, the bartender bring her the round of coors light and his round of what seems to be miller light. y/n and riley can hear their individual groups hollering for them, they look over and see that their groups have some how merged together and they're all mingling together. charlotte catches y/n's eye and winks at her. "oh thank you my sweet charlotte," y/n thinks to herself.
riley laughs, "well i guess are groups are together now then." y/n smiles at him and grabs her tray of beer, "looks that way." and she walks away from him and towards their groups handing out the beers to her friends. riley watches her walk away, her swaying hips absolutely doing him in for un-pure thoughts. he shakes his head trying to make them go away before following after her, handing the beer out as well.
charlotte leans into y/n's ear and whispers, "that man is eyeing you down so bad right now. if you don't make a move soon you'd be a fool." that gives y/n the confidence she needed. so she grabs an unopened beer from the table and walks right up to riley lightly guiding him away from the prying ears, and hands him a beer. she steps a little closer to him, leaving little space in between their chests. she looks up at him and says, "baby, i think your gonna wanna hear this."
he looks down at her, the small amount of space between them sending tingles all over his body, "what am i gonna wanna hear sweet thing?" he asks her raising his hand to her face, brushing hair out of her eyes lightly touching her cheek.
she reaches her hand up to her neck and stands on her tippy toes to whisper in his ear, "you look like you love me." she moves her lips to his other ear, "you look like you want me to want you to come on home."
he looks down at her, "oh, do i know darlin'?" he asks her with a grin on his face. he likes where this is going.
"oh baby i don't blame you for looking at me across this, but i'm drunk and i'm ready to leave. and you look like you love me," she whispers to him as she wraps her hands around his hips.
excuse me
you look like you love me
you look like you want me
to want you to come on home
and baby, i don't blame you
for lookin' me up and down across this room
im drunk and im ready to leave
and you look like you love me
riley looks over at his friends making sure they aren't being nosy sons of bitches and then looks back down at this girl who's making moves he never thought she would. he had no idea the night would lead to this. he just came to the local beer joint with the guys when this bold country girl was the only one in the room he could see. she was a dream come true. everyone else was invisible. and now here she is telling him everything he wants to hear.
well, i was down at the local beer joint with a few of the guys
when this cute little country girl caught my eye
and boy, let me tell you she was the prettiest thing i'd ever seen in a pair of boots
well, she walked right up to me and handed me a beer, gave me a look like, lets get out of here
and that's when i realized that she was every cowboy's dream come true
she told me this right here.
"come on riley, lets get out of here. your giving me this look like you want me to want you to come on home and you're looking me up and down from across the room. now baby i'm drunk and i wanna go home with you," y/n tells him. she knows what she's doing, she may be buzzed but she's not so drunk that she's not aware of her actions. she wants this. she wants him.
excuse me
you look like you love me
you look like you want me
to want you to come on home
and baby, i don't blame you
for lookin' me up and down across this room
im drunk and im ready to leave
and you look like you love me
she knew as soon as she saw him in his cowboy hat that this is the man she wanted. right now and possibly forever. she didn't wanna waste anymore time when she could be with him.
so if you ever see a man in a cowboy hat
and you think to yourself
"i could use some of that"
don't waste your time
just give 'em this here line
goes a little like this
"alright baby, you don't gotta convince me," riley tells y/n. he grabs her hand and leads her to the door of the bar and out to his truck. his hand on her thigh the entire drive back to his place. if he was gonna spend the night with a girl a special as y/n it wasn't gonna be some lame night in a truck or hotel room. he was gonna give her a real bed. his bed.
he pulls up to his home, parks and basically jumps out of the truck to run to the other side and open the truck door for y/n. she deserves chivalry. and he was gonna give that and more to her. he leads her inside and upstairs, to his bed. he lays her down gently. and from then on he treats like a lady. fulfilling every wish and command she had.
y/n was hooked. she needed riley for the rest of her life. this was the piece she was missing all along. riley was her void. she was complete now. don't be a fool though. just because she found riley doesn't mean her life stopped. no- she kept her life the same. she still barrel raced with cooper. she just didn't go state to state anymore. she doesn't go farther then a state away from oklahoma now. she found her riley and she doesn't plan on losing him. and neither does he. man he got so lucky, he tells himself that constantly. to find a girl as special as y/n was once in a life time, and he stuck gold. he wasn't planning on doing anything to risk that. they found each other when they least expected it. and now that they have each other they're complete. they're riley and y/n.
excuse me
you look like you love me
you look like you want me
to want you to come on home
and baby, i don't blame you
for lookin' me up and down across this room
im drunk and im ready to leave
and you look like you love me
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mariuspompom · 8 months ago
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Why is it so difficult for you guys to admit that book!Daemon with his qualities and his flaws makes for a better, more solid, more truthful character and also a better narrative overall? You are so far down your hating spree that you can't see how objectively bad and cringe his show portrayal is compared to his book counterpart. Where is the duality, where are the extremes, where is the strong family bond where is the ruthlessness? Where are the flesh and bones of the character? Where is the nuance you all keep yapping about? What side of show!Daemon could you possible call nuanced?
He's not a hero, that's for sure. He's not an anti-hero either since he barely does anything heroic to begin with, and you do need that for an anti-hero whose premise is usually a mix of heroism with questionable motives. But that guy has no redeeming qualities since he doesn't give two shits about his family. On the other hand, he makes for a very hollow antagonist because he has a trajectory we cannot relate to, his motivations are flimsy and cartoonish. Narrative-wise, an antagonist is supposed to cause problems to the protagonist, and that particular antagonist is spending half of the season trapped in a horror house whining about his vassals not addressing him with the proper title and dreaming of his mother's pussy. He's just a looser. As a villain, he's a joke. He can't even unambiguously order the murder of a child to avenge his kin. What kind of villain is this lmao. Result: a pretty lame, unrelatable, cartoonish and anti-climatic character. Bad, very very bad TV.
What is the problem with showing book!Daemon's duality, the evil side of a proud, ruthless, competent prince and family man who is devoted to his house and his family, a man that raised a lot of kids and had two loving marriages? Isn't this just a better, more entertaining, richer character portrait ? Doesn't this character, this antagonist, if we insist on treating him as an antagonist, this villain even, feel more real and more relatable this way? You think that cheapened, neutered down, cartoonish portrayal has more life and nuance than the book y'all call boring? "He was made of light and darkness in equal parts" do you think show!Daemon can really convey this as he is right now? Come on. I would be embarrassed to actually praise such a bad portrayal. As team black I actually like the greens this season, even Alicent, I think the show did a good job at humanizing them and making them feel real, fully-fledged and nuanced. I don't understand why Daemon didn't have the same treatment. The only possible explanation is that if he had the same treatment (and he did have it in the beginning of the first season), his popularity would have been so big that nobody would actually give a fuck about the greens lol. Sad though.
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