#i don't know any of the other last names or if the have one

[thewistlingbadger]

All the shade in the world when we say we want complex women characters we want more Ellie Williams and other characters whose actions make our insides twist, not frustrate us. We want characters that we hold beloved to become corrupted by fate but still have the opportunity for some redemption.

Caitlyn Kiramman is an interesting character, but she does not fit the bill for the "complex female characters" we desire. Jinx, Vi, and Mel better fit that bill. All three of those women have given us reason to both love and despise them. Many a difficult conversation have they been the subject of. And to me personally Cait just falls flat. And I don't think it's her own fault I think it's the writing. Season 1 cait is 🔛🔝 but season two cait? I understand that she's grieving her mother, HOWEVER, we barely saw any interaction between the two of them and the little that we did see showed us that she wasn't fucking with her like that/they had a complex and somewhat negative relationship. Imagine how the season opened with Cait actually finding her mom's dead body. We would all feel sick, and we'd all pity her. Or imagine had we been given a flashback between her and her mother when she was a child in the garden, having a good time. Or imagine how they just even mentioned the fact that their relationship was strained. Losing a parent is bad, what makes it worse is having unfinished business with that parent (which is why people love the story of Ellie Williams, it's why we understand why she wants to go after her father's killer other than the fact that the killer murdered her father). Caitlin only having one motivation to go after jinx, to descend into hell, to avenge her mother is not even. "Jinx killed mom now I kill Jinx" there's nothing compelling about that. We've seen the story several times.

Just to give a direct comparison.

Jinx's dad was a man she had an extremely complicated relationship with and this relationship was showcased throughout the season. The fact that she essentially lost her sister and killed her father at the same time is what pushes her over the edge. We completely understand why she's going to burn the world down because the show told us over and over and over again. Jinx always manages to lose the people she loves the most, and this time it's happened directly by her own hand.

Jinx's missile only kills three people, blows up a building, and inspiresb fear in the hearts of pilties and amazment in the hearts of Zaunites. Her actions were bad, but ultimately very few people actually suffered from her actions. The council only lost three people, it's not like pilltover's governmentless now (like how zaun is). The damage to the building wasn't that bad and it's easily repairable. And overall from her actions alone the citizens of pilltover are still safe.

Now let's look at cait. She's actively ruining the lives of zaunites by mass gassing them (we also how many kids were on the street. We all know how many homeless and disabled people there are in zaun. Now they're all negatively affected due to cait's lust of vengeance) and by arresting them when they've committed no crime. She's parading around the city with deadly weapons, under the authority of which she does not have! Cait abuses her name and her position as an enforcer to DEMAND that the council follow her plan. She had absolutely no right to storm into there and act like she had the power to call shots. What's even more gross is that she completely lied to them! Her goal was never to locate jinx, it was always to kill Jinx. If she truly cared about bringing jinx to proper justice, she would have ensured she be brought alive. If she truly cared about dismantling shimmer, she would have done that first bc A. Vi knows exactly where the factory is and B. According to silco, the last attack already cut the supply in half. It would have been easy to finish that off. Caitlyn acts like she's judge, jury, and Executioner the entire time she's down there. Her prejudice increases exponentially AS does her willingness to he openly prejudice. She literally refers to Vi's countrymen as animals, and accuses vi of being disloyal several times! and must we truly mention the assault she did? Must we mention that she was willing to kill a kid? That's a line jinx herself has not even willingly crossed yet, and she's practically crossed all other lines.

At the moment Caitlin is not a character who's doing the wrong things for what she believes is the right reason. She's acting out of complete selfishness. Even jinx, who committed an act of terrorism, didn't do it for herself. She did it for her dad, who worked so hard to bring down piltover and didn't live to see it because he refused to trade his daughter for Independence and peace.

So these are just only a few reasons why people don't support her this season. And her level of oppression, arrogance, and maliciousness is exactly why people are calling out those who defend her, because the majority of her defenders are privileged and white.

"We want more complex female characters" you can't even handle an angry, grieving daughter who just had her mother killed by her future wife's sister, shut the fuck up

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 8

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Racism against Illyrians/Lesser Faes?

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Sky didn’t have much of a temper.

Even if she was frustrated or annoyed, she rarely got angry or lost her patience. 

It wasn't that she didn't have emotions. She did. She felt things deeply, passionately. However, she also believed that there was no point in wasting energy on getting angry. It didn't solve anything. It only made things worse. 

So Sky had learned a very, very long time ago…that there was no need to start screaming, because her stutter didn’t allow her that anyway…and that maybe…maybe it was easier for her to just let go off her anger about being unfairly treated. 

Getting angry wouldn’t help her. 

That day however…it burst out of her. Burst out of her like somebody had lanced an abscess. 

Her family could say whatever they wanted about her. But they were not going to say a single word about Azriel 

It was Winter Solstice.

Azriel and her had spent the last month or so enjoying winter season in Velaris…even once trying to ice skate on their lake, which only ended with him kissing her skinned knees, because she was definitely not a natural at it.

They had bought Winter Solstice gifts, and baked cookies…had decorated their house with pine garlands and velvet ribbons…

She had knitted them socks and they had made rabbit stews out of rabbits Azriel had hunted in the forest behind their house. (It was…she had never really seen him as a warrior, even when he wore these black leathers and the blue stone that glinted off him…but she could see him as a hunter, when he came home with a couple of rabbits, ready for dinner. It had also resulted in a new fur lined blanket for her, all ready on the couch. 

She had never outright asked…but he seemd to like it when she was cuddled beneath it, like it seemed to soothe some kind of instinct for him. Maybe the fact that it was the animal he had hunted?)   

Sky and Azriel had both made the decision to spend the days with their respective families and have their own Solstice celebrations the next day…that would pretty much sonsits out of a lazy day in bed and nothing else. 

It sounded amazing. Just what they wanted. 

And it had made sense to celebrate like that. She hadn’t wanted to be the one to keep him from his family after all, even if the thought of not spending Solstice with her mate had hurt more than she wanted to admit.

Azriel had been up ridiculous easily in the morning for a snowball fight that was apparently tradition…but not before he had spent a good half hour making her scream his name with his mouth between her thighs…

Afterwards, she had gotten dressed and left the shadows to amuse Hector for the day… and Sky had left to help her mother with dinner preparations.

A nice, quiet family dinner. Nothing more and nothing less.

That’s what it was supposed to be. They didn’t even get that far.

It all went to shit before dinner was even in the oven. 

From the moment she entered her parents house it was a barrage of barbed comments. About her appearance, her stutter, her lack of an boyfriend…her lack of a proper job. (Sellyn Drake was hers. Sellyn Drake was nothing they got to gossip about.) 

Sky had bitten her tongue. She had ignored the comments, tried to enjoy herself. But Claire never knew when enough was enough.

Her sister kept at it. Kept needling, jabbing at Sky until the little bubbles of anger popped to the surface and boiled into something…bigger.

“I…I met my m…mate,” Sky finally said flatly, after anther jab at her lack of a boyfriend. 

Take that Claire. Not just a fiance. A mate. 

Finally in just one thing Sky had been faster than her sister. 

A mate. That mystical rare mating bond had been a gift from the other for her and not for Claire. 

It caught Claire off guard. She stopped pacing, and turned to look at her sister, brow raised. The look said ‘Oh is that so?’ as if it was the kind of nonsense she had come to expect from her.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed, clearly not believing a word Sky said. 

But Sky wasn’t going to let this go. “His n..name is Azriel,” Sky said with a smile. “We are ver…very hap…happy.” 

They were. They were so happy. So delightfully happy. (So delightfully happy that Sky had been wondering if maybe…maybe the should start trying. High Fae fertility was hit or miss anyway…why shouldn’t they simply start trying and see where it would take them. And if it took two decades, then it took two decades. If it only took a year or three…well, then they were lucky.)  

Claire narrowed her eyes. She was about to say something mean, Sky could see it in the way her lip curled up.

“He…He's a g…good male,” she said firmly, cutting Claire off before she got the chance to spew out anything else.

Claire laughed. It was a harsh, biting sound.

"A good male? Really, Sky?" she sneered. "You actually fell for that line?"

It wasn’t a line. It was the truth. 

Azriel was a good male. Patient and intense and loving. He had never raised a single finger against her.Azriel would never hurt her intentionally. 

 Claire just wanted to belittle Sky in front of their whole family.

"You must be even more naive than you seem if you believe that," she said, almost pityingly. "You really think he wants you? That he actually cares about you? Nobody could want you. I bet he just pities you."

It should have hurt her, she realised. It would have. Even just months ago, it would have hurt her. 

But right now…right now it didn’t really. 

She was supposed to believe that Azriel didn’t want her? The same male that had spent the better part of an hour on his knees in front of her that very morning, eating her out like a starved male? She was supposed that her mate, who’s arousal shot across the bond like an inferno any time she slipped off her clothes, didn’t want her? That the same male that stared at her like she was a goddess, that spent hours worshipping her body with his hands…that she had nearly made come simply by touching his wings a few days ago didn’t want her? 

Still…Claire's words had their effect. She felt a small stab of doubt in her heart, and she hated it. She hated that her sister could still hurt her like this, still make her feel like that insecure little girl who stuttered and couldn't get a single word right.

“He…He l…loves me and I…I love him,” Sky said calmly.

That was clear in every single one of his actions, in every single word. 

“Where did you even meet him?” Sky’s mother demanded. “And what kind of name is Azriel?”

“In…In a bar. Wh…When we went out for Cl..Claire’s Hen Do.  And I im…imagine it’s an Il…illyrian name.”

Everything ground to a halt.

“He’s Illyrian?!” Her mother demanded sharply. “What’s wrong with you, Skylar!”

Sky flinched at her tone. It was harsh, angry. It was the same tone she'd always used when Sky was younger and got anything wrong or stepped out of line.

"Yes, he's Il…Illlyrian," she said, meeting her mother's gaze levelly. "What's…what’s wrong with that?" she asked. 

She knew that her family wasn’t the…most open about Lesser Faes, but…but that hatred in her mother’s voice….she hadn’t expected that. 

“Everything,” Admon gave back with a snort. “You seriously let that barbarian fuck you? I am surprised you actually survived that and he didn’t just rip you apart.”

Every bit of colour leeched out of her face, except her ruddy red cheeks at these crude words. 

This was Admon. Once upon a time, she had wanted to marry him. To have his children. To spent her life with him. 

And…and this was what he told her to her face. 

“I can’t believe that you even let a creature like him touch you,” her mother breathed staring at her with utter disgust.

“He’...He’s not a cre…creature,” Sky bit out. Azriel was her mate. 

“Is it true by the way?” Her brother wondered. “That Illyrian’s have a cat’s prick?”

"Orin!" her mother exclaimed, aghast. "Don't be vulgar! I don't want to know."

Orin shrugged, a smirk dancing across his face. "What? I’m just curious. I am sure Skylar knows. She must please him somehow when she’s still alive to enjoy their…couplings.”

Sky felt ill. She didn't know what to say, what to say in defense of the man she loved. She couldn't get a word out.

“Did you…did you let it touch you?” Her father demanded finally, his voice icy.

It. Not even him. It. Like Azriel was a thing. 

Sky felt her heart drop to the floor, breaking into pieces.

"Yes," she admitted, her voice barely audible.

Her father's face grew stony, and he took a step closer to her.

“How dare you?” he hissed. "How could you let a monster touch you like that?"

"He's not a monster!" Sky protested, her voice rising. "He's…He’s k…kind and gen…gentle, and-"

“And I am sure, he keeps you stuffed with his cat prick to keep you satisfied,” Claire drawled.

And Sky was done.

Somehow that was the last straw. 

Somehow that made something inside her break, irreparable. 

It snipped away every thread that ever kept her close to the family that she had been born into. 

“At least I didn’t need to take my sister’s sl…sloppy s…seconds,” Sky said, her voice flat, meeting her gaze full on.“And yes, Azriel more than keeps me s…satisfied.”

Silence descended over the room, the only sound the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth. Sky felt the tension in the air grow heavier with each passing second.

"You…you didn’t just say that,” Claire said coldly. "You take that back, Sky.

Sky raised her chin defiantly. "No.” she said simply. “I'm…I’m not taking back the truth," she said, her voice ringing with unexpected steel.

"You do not speak to me like that," Claire hissed. "You have no right—"

Something inside Sky snapped. Years of frustration, years of feeling invisible and ignored, years of enduring Claire's taunts and jibes all bubbled to the surface.

"I…I have ev…every right," she shot back, her heart pounding in her chest. “Not so fun when you are on the re…receiving end, is it?”

“Either you end your…dalliance with…that creature, or you are no daughter of mine,” her father snapped.

He talked to her like she was nothing. Like she was worth less than dirt beneath his boots. 

And somehow that made it even easier. 

“You want me to turn away my mate…for what? This?” She asked him, cocking her head to the side. .

"For the sake of our family’s reputation," her father said. "You are an embarrassment to us all by associating with that…lesser fae barbarian.”

Barbarian. Lesser Fae. Thing. Creature. Monster.

All of that said about the male she loved. About her mate. 

“He’s Illyrian,” Sky said, her voice icy. 

“Oh come off it,” “Orin snapped. “He’s lesser fae. The only thing they are good for is being fodder for the armies during war times. Other than that, they are worthless.”

Fodder. 

“We have Lesser Fae ancestry ourself,” Sky responded icily. “Our great grandmother was a River Nymph.”

"That was a long time ago," her father interrupted sharply. "It was one ancestor generations ago. And besides, her blood was not that strong to begin with."

Sky thought back to the eyes that looked back from her mirror each day. Blue and beautiful. The one trace of her that got passed down to her.

"Maybe it was her blood that made you think that opening your legs for that creature was in any way appropriate," her mother hissed. 

And suddenly it was so easy. 

“Azriel is my mate,” she hissed. “I will al…always chose him over you. You can spew what..whatever insult you want about him or his pe…peoople. He’s still a bet…better male than any of you could ever hope to be, has treated me better than any of you. I’ll gladly no longer be your daughter.”

She felt the sting of tears running down her cheeks, but she didn't try to wipe them away. She just stared back at her family, daring them to say more. There was a short moment of silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

She should have expected it. Her mother had always been quick to slap her if she did anything anything that she didn’t like.

Just this time…her hand didn’t make contact.

Sky stared at the tendril of shadows that jerked her mother’s hand back, having suddenly appeared. 

*You. Will. Not. Lay. A. Finger. On. Her,* the shadows hissed menacingly.

Sky stared at the shadows, her eyes widening in shock. They were angry. No. Furious. Utterly and completely furious. Her mother seemed equally taken aback, her hand still outstretched in the air where the shadows had stopped her.

Orin looked like he was about to piss himself, and her father…her father stared at the shadows, his face ashen.

“Come here,” Sky said quietly.

The shadows left her mother to come swarming to her, brushing over her cheek in greeting before wrapping themselves around her neck in a clearly possessive move.

Sky felt the familiar warmth of the shadows sink into her, a small bit of comfort in this awful situation. She turned to her family, her jaw set.

"I’m…I’m never coming back," she said, her voice quiet but resolute. And with that, she turned and walked away, She had only taken a handful of steps when she stopped and turned back, one last thing needing to be said, before she closed the door on this chapter of her life forever.

"I never want to see any of you again," she said, her voice shaking only slightly. "And when we have children, don’t you dare come and ask to have anything to do with them. You don’t deserve to even breath the same air as my mate."

With that, she turned and walked away, her head held high. 

***

Whatever went on between sky and her family…it wasn’t good. He could feel that in the bond slumbering underneath his breast bone.

He rubbed it absentmindly, staring in the flickering flame of the Birchin.

He had won that Snowball fight. Once more. One more victory to add to it.  Not that he particularly cared right now.

*Is she alright?* he asked the shadows.

The shadows were…quiet. And that spoke volumes. Something wasn't right. Azriel's heart pounded against his chest, his instincts urging him to act. He had to make sure Sky was alright. He couldn't stand to think about her being in any sort of trouble.

*Physicallly unharmed,* the shadows promised. *Her family is horrible,* they told him distastefully. 

Azriel's heart clenched at the shadow’s words. While it was a small relief that Sky wasn't physically hurt…her family being horrible made him want to grimace. 

“Alright, I had it!” Cassian snapped at that moment. “What the fuck is going on with you two?”

Azriel turned to his brother, seeing Cassian watch Rhys and himself with an expression of…something. Exasperation maybe.

"What do you mean?" Azriel asked, his voice even, feigning ignorance. He was really not in the mood to get into that either. But apparently he wasn’t going to get that small bit of mercy. 

"Don’t play dumb with me, brother," Cassian said, rolling his eyes. "You are both moody and more distant than usual. What the heck happened?"

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Azriel said flatly. Cassian rolled his eyes.

“Rhys?” Cassian demanded with a sigh. 

“You want to explain or shall I?” Rhys addressed him and Azriel just looked at him flatly.

“You gave the orders, High Lord.”

If Azriel had been in a better mood, he would have smirked. But right now, he just wanted this whole conversation to be over so he could check on Sky. The thought of her made his chest ache. He longed to see her, to hold her, to make sure she's alright. But he knew that Cassian and Rhys wouldn’t let him go without an explanation.

“Azriel and I…had a disagreement about Elain.” Azriel just stared at Rhys blankly. Seriously, that was the best Rhys could come up with? That’s what he wanted to go with?!

"A disagreement?" Cassian asked, brows raised. "What kind of disagreement? A 'we came to an agreement' kind of disagreement, or a 'we punched each other in the face' disagreement?"

“A ‘Rhys sticks his nose into things that are none of his business’ disagreement,” Azriel gave back drily.

“Excuse me, you were going to kiss ELain while her mate was under the same roof two years ago. Did you ever even consider the political ramifications of that?” Rhys snapped. “For gods sake, Azriel!”

Azriel's jaw clenched at Rhys's words, his temper flaring even as he tried to maintain a neutral expression. "You think I didn't consider the consequences? Of course, I did," he hissed, his voice dangerously low. "But feelings aren't logical, Rhys. We don't choose who we fall for, and it's not as simple as calculating political ramifications."

“I told Azriel to keep away from Elain. She fell for Lucien. He’s still moping about it and giving me the fault,” Rhys said flatly. “Out of pure interest, how much longer do you want to keep up with that, Az?”

Azriel couldn’t help the laugh that burst out od his mouth at that.

“You didn’t just fucking tell me to keep away from her. You told me and I quote ‘If you need to fuck somebody go to a pleasure hall and pay for it’,” Azriel repeated viciously.

"And I stand by that," Rhys snapped. "The last thing we need is for you to pine over someone who has made it clear where she stands. Elain has her mate, and she doesn't return your feelings. She’s married for gods’ sake!”

“Whoa!” Cassian cut them off. “What the fuck, Rhys?!”

"What?" Rhys demanded, glaring at Cassian.

Cassian gave him an incredulous look. "You told Azriel to go to a pleasure hall? Seriously?"

"I was trying to be helpful," Rhys said, his jaw clenching.

"Helpful?" Cassian asked incrediously. "Helpful would have been to be a little more understanding towards your brother's feelings. He does have them, you know,” Cassian said sarcastically. 

"I know that," Rhys snapped. "But he needs to move on. It's not healthy to keep pining after someone who doesn't return his feelings."

“Where was this opinion for the 500 years of me pining after Mor?” Azriel snapped. 

Rhys's expression darkened. "Don't do that, Azriel. Don't bring Mor into this. She's not relevant to this discussion."

”Not relevant?” Azriel gave back with a laugh. “I think she’s very relevant. You don’t trust me to act like an adult about my feelings. You ordered me to behave like I am some kind of rabid dog. More than once, more than twice. Constantly. Like I would ever do anything to put Mor and Emerie’s relationship into jeopardy. Don’t worry, High Lord. I’ll behave. I’ll leave Mor and Elain alone. .”

Rhys ran a hand through his hair, his frustration clear. "This is not about Mor, Azriel. This is about keeping the peace within our Inner Circle. Elain has her own life and her own happiness to think about. Interfering could only bring pain, not just for you, but for everyone involved. That’s why I ordered you to keep your distance. Not because I don’t trust your feelings or your actions, but because sometimes even the best intentions can have unintended consequences."

Azriel’s eyes darkened, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Don't give me any of your high and mighty bullshit, Rhysand. You don’t think I am good enough for Mor, and you certainly don't think I am good enough for Elain. But don’t worry, I'll keep my distance, as ordered. I wouldn't want to risk upsetting your perfect little court or ruining your plans for peace. Just tell me who else is off limits, so I know who else I'm not good enough for. Maybe Gwyn? Because remember, ‘don’t you dare to pressure her’?"

Rhys sighed, his gaze softening slightly. "Azriel, it's not about who you're 'good enough' for and who you aren't. It's about respecting people's choices and boundaries. Elain has made her choice in Lucien, and I just want to protect her and the peace we've worked so hard to maintain. And no, nobody else is off limits. You're free to…'seek your entertainment' as you please."

His entertainment. 

Right. 

Azriel snorted, the sound full of derision. “It warms my heart that you give me that permission,” Azriel said, his voice dripping with disdain.

Rhys rolled his eyes, clearly irritated by Azriel's reaction. "I'm not trying to 'give you permission,' Azriel," he said firmly. "I'm just trying to make sure you understand why I'm asking you to behave. I care about you and our inner circle. You're my brother, but I also care about Elain and her happiness. I don't want to see anyone get hurt."

“Have I done anything, anything at all that put her happiness in jeopardy?” Azriel asked, his voices harsh. “I kept away as you ordered. I fucking saved Lucien’s life, so she could be happy.”

"You haven't done anything wrong," Rhys acknowledged, his tone softening. "You've been a better friend to Elain than anyone could have asked. You saved Luicen because you are a good person, not just for Elain's sake. But I still think it’s best if you keep your distance. Not just for her, but for yourself too. Dwelling on feelings that can’t be returned will only bring you pain."

“For cauldron’s sake, Rhys,” Cassian said with a sigh.

Rhys turned his attention to him, the exasperation clear in his eyes. "What, Cassian?" he asked, his tone weary.

Cassian rubbed a hand over his jaw, shaking his head. "You’re so hell bent on keeping the peace you forget that the people in your court have feelings too," he said. "Azriel isn’t some emotionless soldier doing your bidding. He has feelings and desires, just like everyone else. And sometimes it’s not as simple as just moving on."

"I know that," Rhys said, running a hand through his hair. "But sometimes we have to put our own feelings aside for the greater good. As a High Lord, I have to think about the impact my actions could have on others. I'm not trying to shut down Azriel's feelings. I'm just trying to protect him from potential pain.”

“Yeah you did a shitty job at that,” Cassian said drily. “You could have told Mor hundred of years ago to have a conversation with him. You didn’t. But Azriel is supposed to tread carefully not to make her or Emerie uncomfortable. Azriel is supposed to behave?”

Rhys's eyes flashed in anger. "I know I've made mistakes, Cassian. I should have handled things differently with Mor and Azriel. But I can't change the past. All I can do is try to make the best decisions for everyone involved right now."

“You don’t even fucking realise how much of a self important hypocritical asshole you are, do you?” Azriel asked flatly. “It’s okay for you to pursue an engaged female that’s engaged to another High Lord, damn the consequences. But the rest of us…we are told to behave.”

Rhys bristled at Azriel’s words, his own temper threatening to flare. "That's different, Azriel," he said, his voice sharp. "That’s different and you know it. You would understand if you had a…” he hesitated.

"If I had a what?" Azriel prompted sharply.

Rhys let out a frustrated sigh, his fingers clenching around his mug. "A mate."

“Rhys,” Cassian said carefully.

"What?" Rhys snapped, his temper still simmering just below the surface. “He doesn’t have a mate, he doesn’t fucking understand it.”

Aaaaaand…. Azriel was done.

So fucking done. 

“Where are you going?” Rhys demanded as he stood up.

“Home,” Azriel said flatly. “You have my gifts, hand them out. Wish Feyre a Happy Birthday, will you? I’ll be back to do your bidding in about 3 days, High Lord.” 

“I highly doubt that your mother will enjoy your impromptu appearance at Rosehall,” Rhys said. Azriel’s hand twitched towards Truthteller. “Let’s just…”

“Rhysand!” Cassian snapped.

“What?” Rhys asked. 

“I have talked to my mother once since the Sealing of Velaris was lifted,” Azriel said tightly. “One conversation where she told me that she found a new family and that I should keep away from her. So no, Rhys. I am not going to Rosehall.”

Rhys looked utterly shell-shocked by Azriel’s revelation. "Azriel, I..." he started, but Azriel simply shook his head.

"Don't," he said. "Just don't." He didn’t wnat to talk about it. He never wanted to talk about that. His mother could do whatever she wanted. he would leave her alone, just as requested. But he was not going to talk about it. 

“Then I am coming with you. You are not spending Winter Solstice alone brooding at the House of Wind,” Cassian said quickly, standing. 

“I am not going to the House of Wind either.” Azriel answered flatly. “I am going home to my house and I won’t be alone either.”

"What do you mean you won't be alone?" Rhys asked sharply.

Azriel just snorted, “My mate will be there,” he said simply. “She’s better company than any of you.”

“Your...your mate?” Rhys repeated, his eyes widening.

Cassian gaped at Azriel. "Your mate? Why didn’t you tell us? Who is she?"

“Why should I tell you? ” Azriel gave back his voice icy. “I may trust you with this court, Rhysand, but I do not trust you with anything I love. Not anymore.”

[slytherinslut0]

quiet reckoning. chapter one

summary: mattheo comes to visit. it’s strange, being twenty five and still seeing your childhood in his eyes.

warnings: just a ton of fucking angst. complicated, self destructive mattheo who’s finally coming to terms with how he pushed you away when you were younger simply because he couldn’t stand being second to tom in your eyes. the acceptance doesn’t make it hurt any less. get the tissues. cry with me please.

masterlist & other chapters.

Life these days holds a strange, silent kind of peace, interrupted only by the faint sound of water rushing over stone—the creek that runs quick along the forest edge. In your early summer afternoons, the trees form a leafy wall of emerald and ochre, and they sway with the breeze that brushes the hair back from your cheeks.

You sit cross-legged in the dirt, hands buried in soil as you pull vegetables out of your garden in prep for the approaching cold months. You love how earth has its own signature scent: damp, fertile, alive. Somehow it makes you think of Tom—his manor, with its towering windows overlooking manicured grounds, its own gardens sprawling wide. His manor with its grand, sweeping staircases, polished black floors.

Everything was pristine, almost oppressively so. Even the walls seemed haughty, disdainful of the cobwebs that clung to the corners.

Tom had never let you stay long enough to tend to those.

But his gardens—those had their own softness, a quiet beauty that only fully revealed itself after dusk when the moonlight cast everything in silver. I loved you there, you reminisce, and the ache has a name in memory—longing. I wish I could have loved you there longer.

And now you're here, a few years after Tom told you never to come back to him—here where the ache feels smaller, further away. Here where there’s no temptation, where the air smells of earth and moss and freedom, and the silence holds its own kind of comfort. Mattheo visits sometimes, wandering into the quiet when your absence grows too thick, when too many of his owls have gone unanswered.

"He'll visit soon." He always tells you. You start to hate how much he lies to you.

"Don't pretend," you said once, and his mouth stretched into a thin, humourless smile.

"Alright," he replied. "I won't."

So now, when he comes to visit, he doesn't say it—he just sits next to you. He doesn't talk much. Neither do you. Life here is quiet—few neighbours, even fewer visitors. A woman brings you pastries from time to time and the town grocer knows your name, but most days you pass unbothered. You tend the garden when the days are warm, work on the cottage when it's cold.

When it's raining you read books and pretend they're not the same kind Tom used to keep.

On a day in early October, Mattheo sits next to you on the porch and you hate that you notice how he doesn't look at you the same way Tom did. It's something lighter, something less cloying. Sometimes you think of how unfair it is that he can taunt you silently like this—how he can remind you of the chocolate streaks in Tom's inky hair, the depth in his dark eyes. How he can remind you that he holds all the same features as his brother, just without the weight.

As the sun sinks slowly through the trees, casting pink and orange across the sky, you turn your face to the creek, watching the water ripple over stones and rocks, and you think of how young you loved them—the way your love grew different when you weren't looking.

Mattheo was chaos, always had been. I could have helped him find himself. But that thought feels hollow, and it's always followed by another. If he would have let me.

"It's strange to think that this is your life." Mattheo speaks after a while of not. He lights a cigarette, and you reach for it when he passes it to you. "You could have done anything."

You inhale the smoke and close your eyes—thinking of how cigarettes taste like fire and ash and the last time Tom had taken your hand.

"Maybe this is all I ever wanted to be." You reply, spinning the cigarette between your fingers. "At peace."

He glances at you in the fading light—the way the sunset casts shadows in the hollows of your cheeks, makes the gold of your earrings look darker against your hair.

He frowns. "You don't look at peace."

No, you think, taking another drag. I never really have.

You pass the cigarette back to him, watching the smoke drift in the breeze. He doesn't say anything else, so you don't either.

Instead, you watch the dark start to close in, the sky turn into an endless stretch of indigo, stars winking to life somewhere above the trees. The fireflies come out eventually, when the night is quiet and heavy and the world turns a little sleepy. They flutter around in the trees and grass like faeries—like stars that've made their home on the ground—and Mattheo watches them with a furrow in his brow.

You wonder what he's thinking, then think better of it at the bitter twist of his mouth. He always thought they'd burn.

"Why do you still come here?" You question. He turns to you, and when his eyes meet yours that's when you realize you'd verbalized the thought. "To sit with me."

Mattheo shakes his head. "I'll need another smoke to answer that."

So he pulls out another cigarette and lights it. The first inhale is long, and the exhale makes you blink. You look away and pretend like his response doesn't make your stomach twist.

The stream moves a little darker in the moonlight and the pine trees shiver with a gentle breeze that smells like soil. You feel the comfort in it—in knowing that all of this has been here longer than you ever have, and that it'll be here long after you're gone.

Perhaps that's precisely what you chased. A home in something steady.

"I come to remind myself you're okay." He says after a long silence, staring at his hands. "Sometimes it feels like you're dead."

You blink again. He's more perceptive than you remember.

"I'm still here," you remind him, but he laughs without humour in it.

"Sure, you're there," he replies, before another pause. "But you're not really living."

He says the words casually, like they're a fact. You think they're meant to hurt. He's right—it's a thought that comes quietly, the way most unwanted thoughts do. You over look at the river, the fireflies, the dirt under your fingernails—you try to feel the chill in the October breeze, the soft moss under your feet. You try to be alive.

"Why do you think that?" You ask even when you know the answer.

He takes another drag of his cigarette, and then exhales—casting his hair grey when the smoke drifts over his face.

He looks older here, when the night stretches over him. It reminds you how much has changed.

"Sometimes I think you're here to punish yourself." He says, passing you the cigarette again. "You say you come here for peace, but this isn't peace like a person should have. It's just an absence. Silence, and isolation, and nothing else." You glance down at his hand resting on his knee beside you, shadows deepening in the lines of his palm. He watches you. "I wish you'd stop hating yourself for what he's become."

A lump forms in your throat—you remember Tom as a boy, the way he'd hold magic in his palms and make lights dance just to make you laugh. You remember the way he once looked at you, quietly and gently in a way that made you feel safe within crumbling walls offering cold stone decorum. You remember one of the last times at Hogwarts, once things took a turn, when he held more than just magic in his palms—when the lights danced only to burn you instead of make you laugh.

You wonder what it says about you, that you loved him in both.

"I don't hate myself, Matt." You mutter, more conviction than truth. "If I'm punishing myself at all, it's for giving him something to hurt."

He doesn't say anything for a while, so you think briefly that his silence is agreement. You and him both know that there is a lot to hurt about, when it comes to Tom.

"You didn't give him anything." He rebuttals with certainty. "He was who he was before you even knew his name."

It's easy to forget that sometimes, the way he had been all sharp edges even when you'd first met. The way he'd pulled you and his brother through crumbling, damp, narrow hallways with something far too assured for a six year old. Something that made you want to follow him forever—something that whispered; I'll never let anything hurt you.

You exhale a plume of smoke. The fireflies look like falling stars when you close your eyes.

"Sometimes, I think I made him human." You say, and immediately wish you didn't. It's a weird thought, but one that comes unbidden. "Others, I think I made him evil."

It tastes like acid the moment you say it aloud. I made him evil. You think back to all those nights in the quiet, the way you taught him how to confide in you, the way he looked at you as if you held some answer he couldn't find on his own. You remember the secrets he shared, the way he softened when no one else could see. You remember how long it took him to get there.

But you remember the darker moments, too—moments when you didn't pull away, even when you should have. Moments you whispered reassurances instead of warnings, when you offered comfort instead of caution. Maybe, in those silences, you fed a need that shouldn't have been nourished, let him believe his ambitions weren't dangerous, only misunderstood.

You wonder if, in being the one person who never condemned him, you gave him permission to be what he became.

"And me?" Mattheo turns to you. You glance at him, the hard line of his mouth and his eyes that look more black than brown in the night— "did you make me evil too?"

You're both quiet for a moment, the only sound is the stream, the only motion is the flutter of the fireflies.

"I don't believe I made you anything." You say finally, letting him take the cigarette back from you. "I suppose you only became who you wanted to be."

You think, quietly, that it's a kinder fate than the rest.

He huffs a laugh. "So you think I wanted to be an asshole."

He's joking, you think. Or he's bitter again, resentful. You're sure he wanted to be whatever Tom would accept him as—though you'd never say those words out loud.

"I think you wanted to be loved." Is what you settle on, and the words tear your throat apart as you speak them. "Just like I did."

He hums, noncommittally, and lights a third cigarette.

You wonder why you still know that he's bitter even when he's not saying the words—why you still know that he only hums that way when something hurts, or when it's a truth he can't bring himself to admit.

"You found it now, haven't you?" You fill his silence with another sentence you wish you didn't say. "You're engaged."

You watch the embers from the cigarette tip light up the hollows of his cheeks, the way it burns his eyes gold as he takes a drag on it.

"Yeah," he nods into the night. "I'm engaged."

Something selfish in you aches at that.

"Then why do you come here and look at me like you're lonely?" You try to ask it casually, but you don't think you manage it. You see him tense when he realizes how well you still read him. "What is it you're missing, Matt?"

"I don't know." He looks at you in the dark, his expression lost in the shadows of his hair. "Sometimes I think it's you."

It's an answer like a knife, because you've known all along that he feels the same way you do—that the loneliness stays and the regret never really dissipates—that the 'what-ifs' linger long after they shouldn't.

"I'm not your girl." You remind him.

It sounds empty when you say it, but he made it clear when you were younger that he wanted it this way.

"You never were."

He looks away after that, to the stream, and you wonder if it has ever felt hollow like this.

All the lights seem very small suddenly, the moon, the stars—you're not sure where his vulnerability is coming from, all these years in passing. You assume it’s the old saying—absence makes the heart grow fonder.

"But you wanted me to be." It's more of a question.

"For a time, when we were kids." He gives you honesty that surprises you. "Sometimes I think I still do."

Why?—you want to ask, suddenly, desperately—and wonder at the cruelty of the thought. Asking that would be the worst kind of question. Why do you want me?

You think you know all the answers already. They sit bitter at the back of your throat.

"So that's why you come here." You say instead, shivering with the wind that brushes over you. "To remind yourself of all the reasons you still feel empty."

There's a dark sort of humour to the sound he lets out, one that makes your chest ache. He turns to you again, and his hands shake when he lifts the cigarette.

"It's not you that makes me feel empty, princess." He whispers. "It's the absence of you."

You look at him, then—really look. There's something strange about being twenty five and still seeing your childhood in his eyes. Despite the nickname, he’s not joking. It’s the kind of confession that tastes like a fist, like a punch that breaks bones.

I know, you think. I wish it could have been different for us.

"You need to stop coming here." There's no spine in those words. They're putty between you. "Just like Tom told me to stop, I'm now telling you."

He's quiet, watching you as the embers of the cigarette flicker over his fingers.

"I'll stop," he pauses, and you see the pain in his throat as he swallows. "When he finally comes to you."

That, you think, will probably never happen.

"So you'll come here forever." You say, and his mouth twists in a silent, bitter smile.

"I guess I will."

You don't have a response to that. It's not a choice he makes so much as it is his reality, and you, of all people, could never fault him for that.

So instead of words, you lean to rest your head on his shoulder, same way you did when you were kids. You sit together, watching the moon and stars and the stream and the trees and everything else around you that reminds you you're alive, even if you don't feel it. You think of his fiancé, you know she'd never understand. This is childhood love in its most vulnerable form—and you thank him for it, silently, for reminding you that you're not alone. Even if you're sure you are.

He leans his head sideways, on top of yours—a gesture almost automatic.

"I still think of you in the summer." He mutters into your hair. You close your eyes and remember the sun, the way it once felt like it touched your bones. "The summer when we were nine. Swimming in the river at night. Those stupid bugs that I thought were made of fire." He pauses for a minute, looking around, and you think he's done talking, until he isn't. "I suppose I do understand why you chose this life."

You remember that summer, too. Small children swimming in a river that was all silver shadows under the moonlight, chasing fireflies like stars. No parents to call you home, no rules except the ones of your own.

Somehow, that's not your favourite memory of him.

"And I think of you in the fall." You say, listening to your own voice sounding distant. "The year just before Hogwarts. When the leaves turned red and orange and gold. When you raked them into a pile for us to jump in."

He hums. "I tried to kiss you that fall."

"And Tom fought you for it."

"And he won." Mattheo's voice sounds distant too, almost lost. "He always won."

It's strange, thinking of autumn when you think of Mattheo, but it fits—he's just as fleeting. Beautiful, easy to fall into, but always gone too soon, leaving a chill in his place.

"Sometimes I think it's because he knew he could." You build off his thoughts. "And sometimes I think it's because he just wanted to prove it."

He shrugs. "Either way, I still lost."

It's such a mournful way to reminisce, you think, for the children you used to be.

"And what now?" You ask.

He exhales slowly, and the smoke looks like a mist in front of you. "I suppose now we both lose."

And that, is the most honest thing he's said all night.

You turn your face into his shoulder, the way you had when you were younger. You close your eyes, and for a moment you imagine being a child again—back in the days when love was simple and nights were endless. Back to a time when you didn't know things you should and all you had were each other's shoulders to lean on in an orphanage dirtier than the forest before you.

"We lose together, then." You offer, a half-whisper.

"Yeah," he answers, just as quiet, just as lost. "We lose together."

There's a bitter kind of contentment in that, you think. You're sure that's a terrible thing.

You take a few moments to brace yourself for the shift in conversation, and then—

"How is he?"

"He's fine." Mattheo understands what you aren't asking. "The leader he always wanted to be."

You close your eyes again and hear the stream running steady, moving around rocks that have been shaped by years of its presence. You ignore the ache in your chest.

"He's happy?"

You don't have to open your eyes to know that Mattheo smiles bitterly. "He's as happy as someone like Tom could be."

There are several beats of silence, the kind that holds too many unsaid things. You feel it in Mattheos exhale that there's something he isn't saying. You don't press him on it. You sit together like this for a while under the sky—watching the way the dark clouds move, the stars shift.

You think about childhoods that never last. About fireflies and streams and boys you loved.

"Tell me something true." You murmur as the midnight grog sets in. "Tell me something that'll warm me through winter."

Mattheo pauses, silent, and for a moment you think he's not going to answer.

"I've loved you most of my life." He mutters finally, into the top of your head. The words feel like a breath of summer, in a quiet, dark night. "That's the kind of truth that could melt an iceberg."

It's the sort of declaration you could only share in the cover of the night, in the silence of a forest. Not the sort of admission that would ever survive daylight. I've loved you most of mine, too.

"And a lie?" You reply.

His fingertips run through his hair, almost idly. You suppose he's looking back into memories of fleeting autumn's and summer sun, the time he tried to kiss you and the day he pushed you away. He doesn't answer the question for a while. You wonder if he doesn't have an answer, or if he just doesn't want to say it.

And then, finally, quietly— "I'm happy for him."

You close your eyes again. That, you think, is the cold truth of winter.

You turn your face again into his shoulder for a second time tonight, but you keep your eyes open. You can feel the weight of your childhood on your shoulders, the trees and the creek behind you, and the silence that follows his lie.

Suddenly, you're furious—a fire tearing through regret. You wish Mattheo hadn't chosen booze, fights, and empty escapes. You wish he'd let you love him properly before pushing you away. You wish he hadn't always resented Tom—hadn't always felt second best in a way no amount of reassurance could fix. Yet somehow, you just can't fault him for any of it.

He's always known you loved Tom first; he's carried that like a wound.

"Ask me to lie to you." You say as you swallow your anger.

There's an exhale. You're sure Mattheo's watching the trees, the wind as it runs quietly past.

"Lie to me."

You tilt your head up to the sky. You try to remember that fall, you try to feel what it was like to be a child again, and to believe in a future that wasn't shaped by the past. You think of his fiancé.

"I'm happy for you." You whisper.

From the corner of your eye, you know he smiles bitterly again, but he responds with nothing more than his unsteady breathing. You're both silent like this for the rest of his stay, together under the moon that's watched you both change.

"I'll be back in a month," he mutters, just loud enough for you to hear as time stretches thin.

He has to go before the sun rises, before dawn coaxes him into staying. You consider, if only for the flicker of a second, letting him.

"I'll see you then." You lean back and look up into his eyes, searching into the gold buried deep. If you look too long, you think you may see his broken heart. You make yourself smile anyway. "Write to me."

"Even if you don't write back." He replies with a nod.

The cold air makes your eyes water. For a moment he's still, like he may pull you into him and drown you in all the things he feels. Instead, he puts a cigarette into his mouth, lighting it with one of his hands. The lighter casts an orange glow over his face that makes him look pale and tired again, like the boy you'd met in an orphanage that was so much dirtier than the forest before you.

"Good night." He murmurs, and you feel his thumb brush your cheek before he apparates back to the life you left behind.

And now, alone under the black sky, you take a deep breath. Then, you exhale, go back into your cabin and you try not to think about all the things you've lost.

You try not to think of the boy you've loved for far too large a part of your life and how it changed the boy who's loved you for far too large a part of his. You try instead to focus on what you have—walls and peace and solitude, something certain that won't disappear when it rains.

[guppybibi]

Tattoo artist!Johnny who had already met you a year ago when you made an impulsive decision of getting a tattoo with your current boyfriend's name.

This was nothing new for Johnny having seen this numerous times before, in both men and women, and he knows they'll come crawling back to get them covered up after a nasty breakup. It's been a running game in the shop, all of the workers betting their money on how long it'll take before the customer comes back to cover up the tattoo.

Nothing new, right? Then why was Johnny so surprised when he saw you walk into the shop, the door chimes ringing when you swing the door open to reveal you. Eyes still red and puffy while you sniffled, not doing a very good job on hiding the fact you had been crying. His coworkers shot him a knowing look, recalling the bet from last year.

"Pretty thing, ain't she?" One of Johnny's coworkers commented, looking at the back of your figure as you stepped out of the shop with a huge grin on your face. Probably excited to show the tattoo of your boyfriend's name to him.

"Yeah, too bad she's taken. Lucky man better be treatin' her right." Johnny remarks, noticing the look he was given. "Not for long, I bet. I'm giving them a year max." Johnny blinks once, then again. "Fine, I'm giving them five years." Of course, his coworker was pretty shocked from that. Out of all the people they've bet on, this was probably the longest bet Johnny had ever put.

"Seriously? Don't ya think that's too long?" His coworker asks skeptically, raising a brow at Johnny. "Aye, the gal is lovely. If her boyfriend drops her then that's like committing a war crime." Well, his coworker couldn't really disagree with him on that.

Johnny shoots his coworker a glare that simply said he had more important matters to attend to. Luckily, Johnny was a charmer so cooing a birdie like you into comfort shouldn't be that hard, right?

I mean, it's a break up, not exactly the end of the world here. Plus, you're a gorgeous gal, plenty of fish out there you could probably catch in less than an hour.

"Morning, lass! Welcome back, I see that you've got a little problem, huh?" He points out, seeing you nod subtly. "Alright, I'm assuming it's a cover up for the tattoo you got done a year ago?"

He clearly wasn't surprised when you nodded, having seen this too many times before. He wrote down some stuff, not caring about the paperwork much..before leading you further into the parlor.

The two of you discussed how you wanted the previous tattoo to get covered up, Johnny nudging in to suggest some stylistic choices a few times, which you gladly didn't mind.

Then began the process once you agreed with the design choice, you wanted to get this over with. To remove a past mistake from your life.

Johnny cleansed your skin, disinfecting it with a cold gel. He could see you squirming and struggling not to make a sound. He also does notice another tattoo covered up above your previous tattoo, curiosity swirling around in his mind now.

He tried hushing it, it wasn't any of his business. He's here to do his job, nothing else.

He was quiet for most of the process, aside from some rather awkward small talk about the weather and a few details of what happened between you and your boyfriend. Not that it helped, it really just made Johnny even more curious.

And finally, after who knows how long, the tattoo was covered up now! You seemed to have gotten rid of the nerves from earlier, looking a lot more calmer now.

"Alright, lass. I'm sure y'know how the caring process goes so I'll leave it up to ye." He said, cleaning up all his materials in a snap. He gives in to his curiosity, finding the courage in him to ask you about the other covered up tattoo.

"Uh..before you go lass, mind if I ask ye somethin'? It's about the other tattoo you got 'ere.." You immediately knew which one he was referring to, face reddening in embarrassment as you recalled the immature decision..

"Aah..sure, go ahead." You replied awkwardly, a sheepish smile gracing your face. "Thanks, lass. Mind if ye tell me what was written on there? I- I just noticed that the way it was covered up. The artist did a great job, I'm jealous."

Yeah okay he was just making excuses to get things flowing..never mind that.

"Oo..oh! I don't mind at all, don't worry. That's all in the past..can't really reverse it, you know? It was my ex-boyfriend's name." You answer, shrugging it off. Seems like you were the type of gal to move on from a relationship quick.

"I see, glad you were willing to share that. I wonder if I know who he is." He chuckles, evidently not expecting you to actually tell him who it was. Sure, Johnny was the type to encourage people to loosen up and get comfortable. But..maybe not to this extent.

"His name was Simon, Simon Riley—" And practically everything you said after that was unheard of.

Looks like Johnny needs to pay Simon a visit at the pub tonight.

[goldenwitherphoenix13]

Throwing in my two pence here. This might get a little extensive and confusing, since I'm not great with words, so bear with me and trust me, ok?

First pence goes to this. Small thing on this being a non scripted series, yes, this is very true. None of the "curses" and stuff are planned, any references are usualy just thrown in for fun because the creators love watching us make our own stories and art, and Martyns lore is mostly his own AU that isn't connected to the main series.

But fandoms love making their own interpretations of stories, like Martyn does. It's why I have no problem with the "blessings and curses" of each participant. It's just the fan interpretations of funny coincidencs. The AUs we make. The fan content, artwork and stories, we make with the sturdy base of the life series. Jimmy and Martyn love reacting to fan made content, angsty or silly. They are loving it for the craft that it is! But they aren't canon, and never will be. Both sides know this. Scott's blessing won't always work, Grians widow curse won't always happen, and Jimmy's canary curse won't always play out quite the same as others expect it to do. Speaking of...

Time for that second penny. My interpretation of the Canary curse.

To me, the canary curse was NEVER about Jimmy being out first. It was NEVER about how he is bad at minecraft. It was NEVER about his permadeath being the the first one every time.

It was always about the chaos that came afterwards.

He wasn't cursed to die first, he was just the catalyst of disaster. When players would start to die left, right and center. It was a moment in every series where the red names would stack up and start to kill more and more, because now that a player had fallen, a sense of desperation falls across everyone. Dying first 4 times was just an unfortunate coincidence.

Jimmy is not awful at the game, he has some good skills. We can talk about that in a bit though.

The Canary in the coalmine might sometimes die to warn the coal miners of the poisons, but their silence without death speaks the exact same message.

Jimmy isn't cursed to die. Jimmy is blessed with a warning to everyone else that the end ic coming and discord wii be upon them soon.

And that warning is just his silence, through life and death.

He does not need to die for the Canary curse to come calling. Not to him. But to everyone.

Chucking in one extra penny, I would like to say that I very much think he can win. Genuinly, not having a laugh, not mocking it, and i'm not listening to anyone else. Session 3 gave me a scare, and i started doubting it, but i told myself (and Jimmy in chat) that i believe, and I was right to. Session 4 was amazing for him.

Jimmy is not bad at the game by any means. He can just be very unlucky. Events don't always line up for him so he ends up looking more incompetent than he is.

But when they do, well, just look at his 1v3 in dodgebolt and how he won the tournament for the crown in empires season 1, and remember how he spent the majority of Last life on YELLOW. And even episode 4 of wild life with how well he did in that session. I'm not saying he's the greatest minecraft player of all time because he does have his moments of lacking braincells like we all get, but he has got some skills. He just likes to mess about a bit to make things a little more entertaining for his viewers, he plays with his viewers in mind, but when he locks in, he very much locks in. And I love it.

I do still think he can win a life series. If not this one, maybe another one in the future. But I think he can do it. And if only one person in this universe believes that, then I am that one person.

Right, sorry if anything came off rude, im not the best at phrasing stuff so i might of misworded somethings here and there by accident. Again sorry if i did. I'm not here to change opinions, just to share my own. I'll leave now.

cries because everybody in this fandom sees the thought of Jimmy winning as a laughable impossibility and even people who say they're rooting for him only mean it as a joke and whenever you mention that he's doing good people have to let you know that it won't last long and inevitably he will die first because of some stupid self-fulfilling prophecy that got turned into my least favorite fanon ever. why can't he just be like a player who has a chance just like everyone else does. have you stopped to consider WHY he dies first so often? it's not a curse. this isn't a scripted series. it's because he's incredibly pacifistic and because people generally don't want to help him because they consider him a weak player. both of these things have been done away with this season, he has a taste for blood and an ally who is both incredibly underrated in his strength and has said he would never betray him. jimmy has as much a chance as anyone else.

[simp-ly-writes]

"Always, Sweetheart."

─────── · · A Black Ops 6 FanFic

Pairing: Russell Adler x Fem!Handler!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You were a handler of operators out in the field and Russell Adlers was your best and yet the biggest pain in your side with his constant flirting and desire to get under your skin. Yet as soon as someone else tries to annoy you or heaven forbid- flirt with you, it gets shutdown right away.

─ · · TAGS: men being dicks, female pronouns, no use of (y/n), protective!Russell, jealous!Russell, mutual pining, enemies (strong annoyance) to lovers, confessions, pet names, suggestive themes, hurt/comfort.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 2,477

─ · · A/N: I was going crazy looking at all the fan art. Don't think I will be coming fully back to COD like I was before, but I had to write something for this character. Hope you all enjoy!

─────── · ·

"Officer Adler!" you yell, bursting through the heavy oak doors and into the office space. Fellow agents, officers, and handlers all look towards you and then back at Adler frozen in time and space.

Adler takes a drag of his cigarette before waving his hand in a silent command for everyone to leave you both. Hands quickly pick up their belongings and feet scatter out before the doors enclose you both.

The man in question makes no further movement simply leaning against the corner of a desk, a smirk setting upon his features as his glasses slip down his face to watch as you near, hands gripping a manila folder.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he says in an even tone, observing the curves of your face that have fallen into a serious frown. "We have already gone over this before, agent. You cannot call me such, such-"

"Such what, honey?" He teases further, cigarette sitting between his lips as he leans closer and into your space. You take a half step back, pinching your brows together before letting out a breath. "The pet names, Adler. They have to stop, we are both professionals."

Adler hums out in contemplation, taking one last drag from his cigarette before putting it out in the nearest ashtray. He nods his head in direction to the folder in your hand. "No. Before this," you wave the folder around to further prove your point, "we are sorting this thing out. I need to hear you say you won't do it any longer. It causes way to many issues."

"Issues about what? If someone is bothering you, you'll let me know right?" Adlers face drops, hands forming into fists, his stare already demanding names.

"Yes of course! But it makes me appear less assertive in my role, Adler. I have other operators I have to account for since you left and I can't have the newer ones thinking they can disrespect me in any way!" you try and explain, a hand gripping your hair as you stress.

Adler stands, gently taking your elbow before his fingers trail up your arm and towards your hand and head where he eases your grip from your roots. Before he can go to fix your hair you shake his touch off with a huff. "This is what I mean, officer," you say, throwing the document on the now bare desk.

"Well then maybe you should drop your other agents, (last/name)," Russell counters, arms now crossed against his wide chest. A few buttons to his navy shirt undone as you do you best to not look at the skin showing underneath.

"See you would have been my only operator as you have demanded in the past but as soon as you left, you failed to see that I still need to put food on the table so what little choice did I have but to be given new recruits?" you retort, falling into the nearby swivel chair as you stare at the door.

Adler crouches down, blocking your view. His hand twitching to pick up your chin to see your eyes once more. "Hey, look sweeth-(last/name). I can't apologize for my reasons for leaving but I will apologize for leaving you with no other options."

You nod your head before meeting his eyes once more, "So no more petnames?"

"No promises," is all Adler can say before leaning over you to reach for the documents you threw earlier. You lean back into your chair, hands gripping the arms, "You know you could have just asked me to get those for you?"

"Yeah but I got them anyways." You roll your eyes, "Hey- none of that now," Adler shushes you before looking back down at the files. You watch as his large hands grip the corners of the page, careful not to bend them before flipping it to the other side, a series of photos close to falling out as he tips the folder towards you to stop them. "I'm not a child in need of reprimanding, save that for the field workers."

"Never said you were but seeing you leaning back in that chair while doing that plants some images in a man's head," Adler's familiar smirk haunts you once again in the daylight. "Fucking hell," you swear underneath your breath.

"So, why am I being shown these? I already completed this objective..." Adler closes the folder, placing it gently back on the desk.

"Yeah, thats the issue. You see, Adler, we needed more information on those guys. Not for you to shoot them and the information with them!" you yell, swearing that your voice rippled the coffee in a nearby cold cup.

"Well, I'm going to let you in on a little secret off the books."

"And what secret would that be out of your many?" You lean forwards, playing with a ring on your finger. Adler stares at the movement before turning his back to you.

"I already knew all that information years ago, just had to make sure nobody else got to it."

─────── · ·

You thought that after that whole fiasco with your officer Adler, thing would have cleared up since then but it seemed that life had thought differently.

You were in a board meeting with your fellow operators, their handlers, and council members. One of your officers, Roger was sitting beside you, a notebook shared between the two of you as you both passed notes back and forth on the meeting that was dragging on into your lunch break.

"Well if they are planning biological warfare we have to meet metal with metal! If we are acting as moderates or even submissive what the hell room does that leave the enemy to operate in! They need to be neutralized long before those chemicals get out of the port, fuck the rest of them!" A board member yells from the top of the table as you lean back gaining a headache from it all.

Roger places a hand on your shoulder, his head tilting down to your ear, "You holding up alright?" he asks politely, turning his head for you to whisper your answer. "Yeah, just need this meeting to be over or at least to be paused. We are getting nowhere with all this shouting and violence."

The officer nods to your answer. "Yes, we have been circling over the same-"

"Oi! Do you to have something to share? Or are you both gonna keep whispering sweet little nothing into each others ears? Should I tell Adlers' that your cheatin' on em'?" Another handler chimes in, sending a toothy-white smile in your direction.

The other men around the table laugh as you lean on the table, threatening to stand. Roger makes no sudden movement in his chair, face set in a glare directed to the senior member at the unprofessional comment. Sighing you pick up your notes and crack your neck before reading your own radiant smile, eyes holding daggers picturing to stab through his eye-sockets.

"That will not be necessary, Paul," you spit out his name, "Nor is any of this discussion. We have all made no process since eleven! If we display strength with the military we risk our agents already operating within the operation and civilians. If we sit back and let it happen, we also risk a potential nuclear war. Our best option, which none of you men have brought forward and is embarrassing for our field is that we don't ship ourselves alongside the weapon, that way we can determine who has it, where it is meant to go, and where we want it to go."

You are nearly out of breath by the end of your speech as you stand and begin to walk towards the doors, Roger's hot on your tail as nods his head before all the members on behalf of you both, leaving the room in silence.

As soon as the door closes behind you both, you lean against it. "At times, I wish I had a dick like the rest of them but then I remember it's what makes them this way," you explain before picking yourself back up and continuing down the hall.

Rogers laughs, his eyes crinkling as he bumps your shoulder. You look up, casting him a smile as well. "You have a way of saying things, sweetheart. Would leave to see more of that mouth outside of work," Rogers says causing you to stand still in the hall as people walk around you both.

Turning to face your agent, your smile has turned into a glare once more. "Get back to work, Rogers. I expect a full report from last week still that I have yet to receive. Your co-worker has already sent theirs in with misinformation, I hope to not see the same things on yours. And please remember this, I. am. not. your sweetheart."

Turning back on your heels you continue further down the hall, Rogers left with your words before a whistle has you nearly breaking a heel by how much you want to throw it in his face. Russell. fucking. Adler. Standing there with that smirk yet again as he leans up against the break rooms entrance.

He holds out a hand, shaking it in a silent ask to carry your belongings. You shove them into his hand while using your other to press against his chest and to move him out of your way.

He does not budge, simply looking down at your lingering touch with a softening smile. "I am not in the mood, Adler. Please let me through," you use an overly sweet tone, you can feel him tense from underneath you.

"Hey, though I do love that tone when seeing you in a good mood. I do love viewing your rage. Lay it on, whats on your mind?" Adler asks, hand now resting atop your own.

"Move first and we'll sit and talk," you counter to his nod. Adler drops your touch, arm moving to welcome you into the empty space as everyone had already cleared back for work.

Coffee in hand, sandwich in the other, you took to your seat. "I'm so sick of men constantly stepping all over me when I worked just as hard- no. Fucking harder for this position and I still get treated like a little girl in their fathers suit and it does not help when after three hours of men shoving their dicks on the table a younger one then gets the audacity to be asking to see my mouth while calling me Sweetheart," you complain, downing the rest of your coffee before slamming the cup against the saucer.

Adler appears even more tense then you, his hands grips into fists allowing the veins across his forearms to appear most prominent. "Give me a name."

"Pardon?" you ask, embarrassed that you had became so easily distracted.

"Give. me. a. name, please," Alder asks once more, his eye staring deeply into your own. "Hey, whats wrong, sharing is a mutual affair," you reach across the table to grasp one of his hands, surprised when he pulls away. He's never done that before...

"Nobody gets to say that shit to you, not when I'm here. I'm sorry that you had to hear that, sweetheart." And for some reason you don't feel disgust except an overwhelming feeling of comfort as the word dances through your ears. You try and fake annoyance but Adler only takes that as further fuel against whatever man had wronged you so.

"Theres no need to apologize, Adler. I already told Rogers off-" you should not have said that, already regretting your words and Adlers chair screeches against the tiled floors, the door being slammed behind him as he storms off to find Rogers.

─────── · ·

The next time you are working with Rogers, he does not even look at you unless you command him to. He does well to hide his face to the best of his ability but it is hard not to notice the black eye or scarring underneath his chin. Tisking to yourself, you tell the agent his next meeting point in the south Mediterranean sea before setting off on your next mission, to find Adler.

It did not take long as he was already waiting in your office. First aid it open and displayed across the documents on your desk. He did not hiss or move as he poured the anti-bacterial fluid over his wounds, his teeth gripping a bandage in wait as he had yet to acknowledge your presence.

"Alder," you scolded like a tired mother before taking the wraps from his teeth and standing between his legs, gently wrapping his hand before pressing a kiss to your work that had both of you chuckling.

"You didn't have to do that, you know. Could have gotten you suspended-"

"You really think they would suspend me, honey?" you blush, shaking your head and taking a step away yet Adler catches your elbow, standing, chests touching as he leans down to get a better look of your face.

"All I'm saying is that you have to take better care of yourself, officer," you retort, eyes quickly casting to his lips before holding his gaze.

Alder smiles, hand now cupping your cheek as you allow yourself to lean into his touch. "Are you sayin' you care about me, (last/name)?" he teases, eyes already knowing the answer by the way in which they crinkle, mirroring your own.

"I care for all of my operatives, Russell Adler."

"But am I really just an operator to you, sweetheart?" his words now nearly a whisper upon your lips that part in wait.

"Well there's only one way to find out-" and his lips were on yours. His hand now holding the back of your head, nudging it upwards as you curved into his touch, hands gripping his shirt and around to his waist. Russell's other hand moved to grip your waist, thumb rubbing circles into your side as you felt his smile upon your lips.

Pulling away, lips puffy and eyes starry as you panted for air, Adler barely gave you anytime to breathe before he was kissing you again. Any papers on your desk were thrown to the floor before Russell was picking you up by the back of your thighs and placing you on the desk, legs spreading to keep you both close.

Standing back to full height, Adler looked at you sprawled out before him, hands morning their way up from the ankles that kept him locked into to place, up to your calves and towards your thighs and lower torso. Your breath gasped as his hands teased at the skin between your waist and shirt, skin tingling, his touch lingering with shared desire.

"Kiss me again," you pleaded.

"Always, Sweetheart."

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: If this is recieved well may make another one... 🤷

[starberry-cupcake]

oooohhhh boyyyyyyyy Stuff Happened you folks, this might be obnoxious because there was a lot of exposition, let's hope I can keep it decent. As always, sending you all positive vibes in these trying times ♥

previously, in harrowcita del 9:

this happened

CHAPTER 50

30 minutes for emperor destruction, prepare the champagne

gideon is being taken by yandere twin to meet doctor reverend emperor john

she isn't very into that idea, but doesn't have much of a choice

doctor reverend emperor john is having a very important conversation with someone in the room, so gideon and yandere twin hide to listen in

and the conversation is with non other than not!dulcinea

not!dulcinea is being possessed

by commander wake

I ASKED FOR THIS IN THE PREVIOUS ONE

why did you need harrow, then, you dramatic asshat?

so, basically, commander wake's name is actually a couple quotes and lyrics to eminem's song from 8 mile

her name isn't amanda, it's just awake, etc.

I'd take amanda over eminem but ok

they said they are words that date back thousands of years, so we're in the future

I considered this, but not due to book reasons, just because one time I was talking to @lady-harrowhark about one time a barbie of mine was stolen when I was a kid and it somehow related to tlt, this was A Long Time Ago but I thought "what, are the books in the future?"

I have no idea if my hollywood hair barbie had anything to do with the books directly or if it was just some fandom thing @lady-harrowhark knows and I don't, but that planted the idea in my head

if it's a spoiler, don't tell me

but I didn't pick up any clues from the book until eminem

emperor's last name is gaius, which I knew from an untagged non context dashboard post

doctor reverend emperor john gaius wants to know what commander wake was doing in the ninth, because she landed there on purpose

and also is impressed that she's been a revenant for nearly 20 years and doesn't know how she got there

I think it's the sword

so, in come augustine and mercygirl

because now we're having a party

dr reverend emperor john says "Am I in trouble?" because he's the most punchable asshole in the known universe

and introduces commander wake with an evanescence quote rather than an eminem quote

yes, ok, I much prefer that, thank you

thank you, Fallen by Evanescence (2003) you changed my life

so, turns out that commander wake was in cahoots with these two lyctors

but things turned south and gideon the first was sent to kill her

she went to the ninth to break into the tomb

it always comes down to the tomb

ice cube barbie is very popular

so, I was right when I said that gideon wasn't conceived Traditionally

the eggs were my clue on that bit, the eggs on the notes

they were supposed to 1) use dr reverend emperor john's genes to 2) create a baby with his blood to 3) break the blood ward to 4) open the tomb

CONVOLUTED LYCTOR PLANS

but the eggs didn't work, so commander wake decided to birth gideon herself

when I said gideon was a demigod and used hercules memes and when I compared her to superman or whatever

I was more correct than I thought

commander wake called gideon "bomb"

this song could go into the gideon playlist @lady-harrowhark and I were talking about

because we didn't have enough lyctors at this party, in comes gideon the first

from battling the beast, which is what everyone was supposed to be doing, btw, just putting that out there

gideon the first will receive a lot of very clever, funny and amazing nicknames by gideon that I can't even remotely compete with

I vow to you and your prowess for nicknames, queen

gideon the first comes in, removes gideon's glasses from harrow's body, and slides them on his face

commander wake me up before you go go looks at him with heart eyes

and he shoots her

gideon, things were so much easier when you didn't have a family, girl

this is too stressful

everyone is surprised that gideon the first fought the beast, the beast ran and gideon the first is alive

I am NOT SURPRISED because HE WAS FIGHTING ALONGSIDE MATI NONIUS

and ortus, and protozoa, and martita

BUT, MOST IMPORTANTLY, MATI NONIUS

well done team harrow!!!

so, basically, gideon the first didn't say anything about the whole commander wake situation because he thought gideon was his

which accounts for my doubts the other recap on how I thought gideon wasn't Conceived Traditionally but there were doubts from gideon the first's side

gideon prime, gideon zero, gideon senior (all gideon jokes, not mine) says he was with her for about two years

so augustine starts explaining how they got dr reverend emperor john's genetic material through god apate major

WHY AM I NOT SURPRISED

IT'S ALWAYS THE ORGIES, ISN'T IT?

man, I'd rather not know the details, thank you

gideon the first also doesn't want to know the details

the emperor's bolthole wasn't as inexorable as it was advertised to be, turns out

it's basically a revolving door

ANYWAY

the emperor goes "so you killed her and the baby, right?"

IN COMES GIDEON, INTRODUCING HERSELF

"I'm not fucking dead"

and the emperor goes "hi, not fucking dead, I'm dad"

CHAPTER 51

gideon starts remembering childhood things like suffering and fighting with harrow and telling harrow that maybe she is the daughter of someone important and they don't know it

"You remember how the fuck-off great aunts always used to say, suffer and learn? If they were right, Nonagesimus, how much more can we take until you and me achieve omniscience?"

man, this is rough

so, the thing about the eyes

gideon apparently has AL's eyes

whose name isn't only Annabel Lee

it's also Alecto

the alecto everyone keeps mentioning in the fandom

so, this explains why seeing gideon's eyes was like seeing a ghost to these lyctors

also why ice cube barbie had gideon's eyes

THERE ARE A LOT OF THREADS GOING ON IN THIS BOARD

GIDEON IS CONNECTED TO A LOT OF PEOPLE

NONE OF THEM GOOD

the lyctors bring back what teacher said in canaan au, about them asking dr reverend emperor john to kill AL aka Annabel Lee aka Alecto aka ice cube barbie

apparently all of them (except for gideon the first) hated her and were low key scared of her and high key scared of what might happen with her around

they think the beasts are coming partly because of her

and whatever dr reverend emperor john did to resurrect her

the emperor says he didn't kill her, he "switched her off"

not successfully, because she's been sort of roaming around

mercygirl and augustine say that everything about this is very sus because what if he didn't kill AL??? and what is going on with the origin of his power???

dr reverend emperor john goes "you both do tend to go overboard on the foreplay"

mercygirl and augustine figured out that harrow's true cavalier had AL's eyes

but it was impossible for a baby to be born with AL's genes

however, it was very probable that a baby had been born in the ninth with the emperor's genes

because they had been planning on that to happen

albeit in a different way, without the human intervention

so, if gideon has AL's eyes but the emperor's genes

it means AL's eyes aren't hers and the emperor's aren't his

the emperor's weird eyes are AL's and gideon's eyes are the emperor's

because.......

he achieved lyctorhood without having to slurp his cavalier aka AL

I'm very interested in this potential situation if we get gideon alive again

but everyone else is pissed off because they had to slurp their cavaliers unnecessarily

yandere twin also decides to join the chat after this

and, apparently, anastasia had figured it out too

the ninth necro who everyone said was the one who couldn't become a lyctor

the one with a room unused

until harrow

the emperor's version of events is that things went off the rails in the process and he had to kill them both

augustine tells dr reverend emperor john to just stop already with his plan of destroying everything

and the emperor says that the man before his resurrection would have hated him to say that

mercygirl then goes "I'll forgive you if you tell me you didn't mean to kill my cav"

and the emperor goes "yes, I'll do whatever"

so he hugs mercygirl

and mercygirl

FUCKING DECIMATES HIM

SHE WRECKS HIM

SHE MELTS HIM INTO NOTHINGNESS

gideon says she's an orphan again while I'm giving everyone a party hat and a piece of celebratory cake

I'M SORRY THIS WAS LONG but we're reaching the end of this book!!! See you next time!!!

[dsireland86]

Hii! :)

Can you do imagine request "Nap dates"? I had inspiration when i was listening Angus & Julia Stone's song Nothing Else. Y/n is working for Sumerian Records and is interested tour management. Sumerian sent her with Matt to work with the production so Matt can focus more on audio things. Y/n is first shy and trying to focus 120% only working but Noah is trying to get Y/n in every way. She is almost thirty years old and single, for the first time in a completely foreign environment. She is a native Finnish speaker and still looking for a little communication in English. She's a little shy, slow to ignite, but she's also been eyeing Noah, but scared that everything will go wrong. Her motto has been that you don't eat from the load. She talks a lot about how she misses skin to skin touching, but is too afraid of having relationships or sex with strangers and Noah suggests nap dates. She has a rule: no sex, no kissing, only cuddles and naps. Y/n is gemini ja Noah is Scorpio so they are not compatible and they try their best to fight off their interest in the other, but they still end up trying nap dates. Eventually they become romantically interested in each other and they end up kissing and having sensual, but mind blowing sex.

Nap Dates

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @fadingintothegrey @an0mallly @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey@rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12@sister-sebastian

The flight from Finland was almost thirteen hours. I check the time once I land then make a quick call to the record label once I'm out of the terminal, following the signs to ground transpiration. Even though this is my first time on any foreign soil, thanks to the help of the internet and the amount of English I know, I'm able to maneuver my way through the airport well enough to get to where I need to be. Still on the phone, my boss tells me there's an Uber waiting for me outside that will take me to the hotel where I'll be staying. In the morning, one will pick me up and drive me to the studio to meet with the man I was sent here to work with. 

A while back I mentioned to the label that I was interested in learning more about tour management in America, so they set me up with a guy named Matt with a strange last name I couldn’t pronounce, and arranged a meeting with him via video call. I liked him instantly. He was easy to talk to and had a really nice personality. I knew we were going to be a good match Upon exiting the airport, I see the Uber waiting for me. I climb in and we head to the hotel where I check in, find my room, then showering, and finally sleep. The drive to the studio the next morning is a quick one. I'm nothing but a messy bundle of nerves the minute I walk inside, wondering why I ever agreed to take this job. Turning the corner, I see two men standing in the hall and they both smile the moment they see me. My cheeks redden instantly. 

"Hey, can we help you?" a man, wearing a black ball cap asks. He has dirty blond hair down to his shoulders, a pointed nose and a very cute smile. He looks at me as if he recognizes me, and I admit to myself that he, too, looks very familiar. "I, uh, yes. Maybe? I don't know actually."

My English comes out slower than I want it to, but at least they can understand me. The other guy, tall with long brown hair pulled up in a messy bun, smiles at me too and proceeds to speak to me in Swedish. I sigh in perfect joy. We carry on a brief conversation where I explain who I am and why I’m here, learning that his name is Joakim, but his friends call him "Jolly", and that he is part of the band that I'll be working with.

"And this," he says, clamping a hand down on the shoulder of the man with the ball cap, "is Matt, our tour manager." "Oh my gosh, I'm an idiot," I cringe, slapping my forehead with my hand. I look back up at Matt only to see him grinning at me. "You knew who I was the whole time, didn't you?" Matt slowly nods, unable to hide his smile. I nod, too, feeling completely embarrassed. "Hey, don't worry about it," Matt encourages me. "You've had a long couple of days. I'm sure you're beat." "Yeah, just a little. Jet lag is kicking my ass.” "Come," Jolly says, I'll introduce you to the other guys." I nod and follow them down the hall to a room on the right.

Nicholas, Nick who goes by Folio, and Noah; the three remaining band members. I shake each of their hands, smiling shyly at them, but stop and stare hard the moment I get to Noah. He stares at me, his expression is cool and relaxed and his disarming smile penetrates my entire body. Noah seems to be a laid back sort of person and it helps me to relax a bit. Matt takes me over to the sound equipment, asking me questions about what I know and what I'm able to bring to the table as far as tour production, and I'm honest and thorough, telling him what I know and can do. He's impressed and says I'll be a great fit. Glancing over at Noah, I catch the way he's staring at me. His brown almond eyes are deep and entrancing, making it extremely hard to look away. I take a deep breath and exhale it through my nose quickly, trying my best to refocus my attention back to Matt.

It's been three weeks of work and I love my job. Matt is the best. Very easy going and easy to work with. His personality and intelligence match mine when it comes to work and pretty soon, the two of us, along with Noah, have a whole idea planned out for the upcoming tour. Noah is growing on me and I’d like to think I'm growing on him too. Getting to know him more, I learn he’s a little reserved and introverted like me, but very sweet, which is surprising to me considering his stage presence. Everyday I'm around him, my feelings about him change. The fluttery, butterfly feeling that would come and go is permanently there now and it only grows whenever we're together. It's ridiculous, actually. I'm thirty years old, not a teenager. Noah shouldn't have this sort of effect on me; yet he does. And if I'm being honest, I'm beginning to really like the feeling. 

The day I met Y/N face to face was the day my world turned upside down. I was drawn to her for reasons I didn’t know or couldn’t understand. I was never known to be a guy interested in the opposite sex to the point it was all I could think about. But she was; she was all I could think about.  I couldn't concentrate on anything but her and the way she moved so gracefully and the way she spoke, softly and slowly with her moderate Swedish accent that was thicker than Jolly's and much sweeter. Her smile was simple, but so bright. Whenever she used it, my heart would skip a beat and I couldn't help but smile back. Y/N was also very easy on the eyes. She was distracting. Every time she walked into the room, I found myself staring at her a little more than I knew I should, and the fact that she was single was mind blowing.. A woman like her shouldn't be. We became easy friends. The only problem was, Y/N devoted 1000% of her time to her job, never giving herself time to do anything else. Matt tried telling her not too, that he was afraid she might burn herself out, but she refused to listen to him, telling him it was just her nature to stay so busy.

"So, there really is no man for you back home? No one that interests you?" Y/N shakes her head, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. I managed to steal her away from work for the day, taking her out for coffee, which turns out to be hot cocoa instead. We're sitting on a park bench, overlooking the ocean. A soft breeze swings in, blowing the small strands of hair out her face. I look over at her, taking a moment to soak in her delicate features that make her so pretty, and find myself feeling things for her that I probably shouldn't, yet I just can't help myself.

"What about you?" she asks, turning to face me. The soft twinkle I see makes me smile as I huff a small laugh. "Nope. No one. I mean there have been girls that I thought were pretty and nice, but in the end they just turned out to be too shallow or taken. I find it better to just not go looking for something, but instead let that something find me. I'm not in any rush." Y/N chuckles and takes a sip of her hot cocoa. "You mean to tell me all your fame and money doesn't buy you happiness like everyone says it does?" she jokes. I laugh. Laughing with her is so easy. "I'm afraid not. I don't want to be rich anyway. I just want to find my person and grow old with her." Y/N hums in approval. "How did you get to be so wise, Noah," she smiles, playfully. But I sense some seriousness. "Life wasn't always easy for me, you know. I had to learn that falling apart isn't always a bad thing. It taught me how to become someone, that's for sure." Y/N frowned. "We're all someone, are we not?" "No," I shook my head. "I don't think we are. Most people live life in a bubble, locked up in their minds, completely turned off to reality and what's passing in front of them. They spend their whole life looking for the next best thing instead of enjoying the here and now; instead of being present."

"Wow, yeah, I agree with that," she nodded. "You know, you're not like other guys, Noah. You enjoy going slow and sitting still while you come undone and allow life to pick you apart a little. I like that. It's refreshing." Y/N turns and looks at me and I can't help but trail my eyes over her face and wonder what it would be like to kiss her soft, red lips. She's the first girl I've had these sorts of thoughts about in a really long time. "Thank you," I say quietly. "You're welcome," she says, trailing her eyes over my face as well. "Can I ask you a more personal question?" She hesitates at first, but then says okay. "When was the last time you were with a guy?" Her eyes narrow. "Like? Romantically or sexually?" I feel my cheeks redden a little "Both." A small smile creeps over Y/N's lips.

"Um, it's been a while. I'm really backwards and shy and have zero confidence. Having a sexual relationship with strangers is hard for me because of that. And trying to get into a deep, long term relationship never works out because if I'm not willing to sleep with the guy then he loses interest. "Are you serious? Y/N you're beautiful! You should have a lot of confidence." "Yet, I don't," she laughed, turning away from me. “Also, you’re really hot yet you’re single,” she points out with a sly grin and I laugh. “Okay, point taken.” I playfully shove her in the shoulder as we remain quiet for a moment,  processing what we just learned about each other.

"I miss it though," Y/N confesses. "Miss what?" "Skin to skin contact. Not necessarily sexually or anything, but just like hand holding and soft, gentle caresses and touches. Cuddling, gosh I love cuddling," she giggles and it's the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard. "Especially when it's cold or raining. Cozying up together and falling asleep, or watching old movies in the dark. Those are the best."

Y/N's description sounds like this thing I read about in one of my weird, self-help books. It's a thing called nap dates and apparently it works when someone is missing the physical touch of another human being, so I mention it to her. "What about nap dates?" She looks at me completely confused, shaking her head. "What are nap dates?" "They're dates that people who are friends or in a platonic relationship have. You hang out with each other, cuddle, watch tv, sleep, you know, boring stuff." "Boring stuff," Y/N laughs, tossing her empty cup in the trash. "Well boring for those who aren't trying to make their relationship go anywhere."

We stand up, and I stretch, working out the kink's in my neck, grimacing in pain. "Are you alright, Noah," she asks, alarmed. "Yeah. I just have this insane knot in my shoulder blade that won't go away. It's been there for days and hurts like hell." "Oh, well sit. I can rub it out for you." I do as she says, making sure she has enough access to my back. The moment she lays her hands on me I feel the instant spark rip through my body. Her touch is electrifying. I can't help but moan and groan over the feeling of the way she works and messages the knot out. It's invigorating. But it's the way she's touching me that has my body all worked up. It's gentle yet confident. Strong yet sweet. And just the thought of never feeling it again sends my mind into a spiral.

"How's that?" I move my arm around feeling immediate relief. "Oh god that feels a million times better. Thank you." Y/N grins. "You're welcome." I take her hand and hold it for a moment, thankful she doesn't pull away. Her eyes are speaking to me, yet I can't read what they're saying. "Noah," "Yeah?" "The idea of nap dates sounds fun." "It does, doesn't it?" "You really want to try it?" "Only if you do," I assure her. "Okay," she grins at me again. "Let's try it. But there's conditions." "Sure," I agree, fighting hard to control my eagerness. "No sex, no kissing. Only cuddling and sleeping." I chuckle. Her conditions seem pretty fair. "Absolutely," I agree." She grins. "Okay, good."

The rain is pouring down outside as Noah and I lay on the couch together, cuddled up under a warm, thick blanket. My leg is wrapped around his and I’m curled into him, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I'm engulfed by the scent of him and it makes me lightheaded. The abnormal fluttery feeling in my stomach that always comes around whenever Noah and I are together is hitting me hard in my chest, making my heart race. I'm not sure if it's anxiety or nerves, but it makes me snuggle into him deeper and wrap one arm around his torso. I take a deep breath and slowly let it out.

"Are you okay, Y/N," Noah asks softly. I know his eyes are still glued to the tv as his favorite show plays quietly in the background. He has one arm beneath me, holding me so I won't fall off the couch, while his other one is tucked under his head. "Yup I'm fine," I say sleepily, yawning big. "Awe, you tired?" I nod slowly. "Go to sleep. We have nowhere to go or nothing to do," Noah suggests, bringing his hand down on my head and slowly caressing my hair. The warmth of Noah's arms are the very thing I need to help me drift off into a lazy, comfortable nap.

The night belonged to them. Nothing but the stars and the full moon watched them from way up above as they kissed one another. With her on her back, hands wrapped around his tattooed neck and fingers snaking through his newly trimmed brown hair, and him leaning over her, fingers tracing her cheekbones then caressing the side of her face, Y/N and Noah embraced the sensual feelings rushing through their bodies.

Night after night, day after day, their nap dates slowly began to take a different turn; they had developed strong feelings for one another. At first it started with their hands finding each other, fingers intertwining and playfully locking together. Then came the looks and slight smiles whenever they were around each other, the ones they thought they were being so secretive about. Finally, it came boiling over the night a huge storm rolled in with horrible wind, thunder, and lightning, knocking out the power for hours. It scared Y/N, making her cling to Noah as if her life depended upon it. Noah sang to her, held her while she rested her head quietly in his lap as he played with her hair. She fell asleep, only waking when she realized she was being carried to her bed. "Noah, please don't leave. Stay with me.” "Alight, I will," he promised, crawling into the bed next to her. The feeling of her body pressed so tightly against him made resisting the urge to kiss her impossible, but he did it anyway.

At first he thought Y/N would panic, freak out, or get mad at him because of their agreement when they first arranged their nap dates. But Y/N did the opposite. She turned all the way over, facing him and allowed Noah to devour her lips, her mouth, and her body, stopping only when it was about to go too far. "Not yet, not like this," Y/N whispered in the dark. The word "yet" clung to Noah's heart and mind like a magnet. He agreed, kissing her once more.

Now, here they were, tangled up in one another beneath the stars, unable to stop their hungry appetite for the other. "Noah, let's go home," Y/N mumbled against his lips. Noah smiled at her mention of the word "home". "Why? I like kissing you beneath the stars." Y/N giggled. "I know, but I'm not comfortable enough to do this out in the open. I’m sorry. I hate being the way I am sometimes.” Noah stopped kissing her and met her gaze. "I like you just the way you are," he told her, loving the way she smiled at him. He pulled her in and laid a soft kiss on her forehead. "I want to do nothing else but fall into your arms and let you have your way with me. I just can't do it here." Y/N confession had Noah's mind reeling. "You're going to let me have my way with you?" he asked. "If you'll have me," she answered quietly. Noah grabbed her and kissed her, standing up immediately after they parted. "Let's go."

Noah opened the hotel room door for Y/N and she walked in as he flipped the light switch on, locking the door behind him. His tall frame loomed over her small figure that was the picture of perfection against the black backdrop of the room behind her. She stared at him with eyes so intense he thought she could see right through him. And in that moment, Noah wanted nothing more than to just feel her naked body against him.

Leaving just the entry light on, he guided her back into the darkness of the room, thankful that the soft glow of the moonlight and the parking lot lights filled the room with enough light for them to still see one another. Noah ran his hands down her arms, feeling the instant prickle of her skin as he did so, making him shiver, too.

Without a word, he removed his shirt, then his shoes and socks, moving close to help Y/N do the same. Even though he knew she wanted to do this, she still looked alarmed. "When was the last time you were with a guy?" Y/N was quiet for a moment, unsure if she should be truthful or not. But, to do this right, she knew she had to be. "Two years ago." Noah's mouth fell open. "Why? I mean, I don't... " "There was no one worthy enough, that's all. I don't just sleep with anyone for fun, Noah. I have more respect for myself than that," she stated firmly. He closed his mouth quickly "Does this mean I'm worthy enough? Us being here together, alone, about to do the very thing you say you don't give to just anyone?" Y/N smiled up at Noah shyly, raising her arms as he lifted her shirt above her head and tossing it to the floor next to his. "Yes, Noah. You are more than worthy enough. I want to give in to you completely, mind, body, and soul. I just need to be assured that I won't regret it in the end."

He held her face in his hands when he kissed her. Noah didn't ever want her to go away again. It was as if her mouth had suddenly held all the oxygen that kept him alive. Undoing the clip of her bra, Noah gently pulled the straps down and she let it fall, revealing herself to him. He sucked in a slight breath, licking his lips instantly. "I have such a fucking weakness for you, Y/N," Noah confessed, carefully pushing her down on the bed and laying her back. "I have since the moment I saw your face on that video call. I was drawn to you, for reasons I didn't understand." He latched his fingers around the waistband of her leggings and pulled them off, leaving her only in her white cotton panties, which he quickly took off and shoved into the pocket of his joggers. "For safekeeping," he winked at her, making her giggle.

Looking down, Noah stared at the naked body before him on full display. Y/N was beyond beautiful. She was a perfect work of art, something to be worshiped and adored. Lowering his face, Noah trailed slow kisses over her stomach, feeling how it dipped from the way his lips tickled her, making him smile against her skin. Y/N ran her hands through his hair, moaning from the feeling of it running through her fingers as Noah placed kisses all over the front of her body.

From her stomach to her breasts, Noah went slow and steady tasting every single part of her. Wrapping an arm around her waist he arched her back and rolled her hardened nipple with his tongue making the noises coming out of her sound so intoxicatingly sinful. He was obsessed with her, and every touch, every sound made Noah feel more unhinged. He sucked her breast into his mouth as much as he could, nipping at her silky skin while flicking her nipple with his tongue over and over. Pulling back, Y/N cried out in protest of his absence, making him chuckle darkly. Standing to his feet, Noah slipped off his joggers and boxers at the same time, freeing his hard erection. The sight made Y/N shiver with absolute lust, and she couldn't wait to have him between her legs. "Spread your legs for me, Princess, and do as I say, alright," he whispered in her ear. Y/N obeyed, releasing a loud, content sigh over feeling him between her thighs.

"I want you in the worst way, Y/N," Noah confessed, rutting himself lightly against her soaked, throbbing core. She was already a panting mess, ready for whatever happened next. "Your taste, your scent, and I want the feeling of your skin next to mine. I want it all tonight," he whispered, staring her straight in the eye. Y/N swallowed, placing her hand on Noah's cheek. "Then take me, Noah. I'm all yours."

Without another word spoken, he reached down and guided the tip of his hard cock to her entrance and eagerly began taking her at his pleasure. Noah felt like heaven inside her. The sound of her first escaped moan as her body took him in and he spread her open wide was the best music to fuel his passion. He shivered when her nails dug into his back and his head fell into the crook of her neck as he began to pump hard and fast into her tight, wet core. The sheer ecstasy of it all threatened to tear them both apart and shatter them into a thousand pieces.

Noah grabbed Y/N's hips with purpose, aligning himself perfectly so that he could thrust hard and completely down to the very base of all he had to give her. She moaned for him, wrapping her legs tight around him and squeezing with all her might. No longer caring who could hear, Y/N cried out his name, biting his shoulder and pulling him in close to suck the warm, wet skin of his neck, Noah's own breathy moan seemed to accompany her sounds perfectly as his cock filled her entirely and hit the soft spongy spot of her cervix. Nothing could make him weaker than the feeling of her clinging to him and moaning "harder" in his ear as he bottomed out inside her, trying his best to cling to sanity.

"Oh god, you feel so good. Fuck," Noah groaned breathlessly, as he felt her writhe beneath him. "I'm a fucking mess for you, Y/N," he confessed, pounding into her a little harder and clamping his large hand around her thigh, pulling it up higher to get a better angle. She pulled his face into hers, latching her lips to his and feverishly kissing him while tugging on his hair collected between her fingers. "Fuck!" Noah growled," thrusting harder.

"Noah, I'm close," she whimpered. "I know, I can feel you. Goddamn, you're so tight, baby," he groaned. The pad of his middle finger rubbed circles along her clit, pressing down a little harder and making her squirm in delight. The way her back arched off the mattress mixed with her wetness gathering on his fingers, Noah knew she didn't have much longer. His hand took her leg and hiked it up higher against his side so that he could thrust even deeper down within her. The screams of her pleasure, echoing off the walls of the hotel room were pornographic,

"Noah," she cried, running her nails down his back, making him seethe in pain and pleasure. "That's it, cum for me, baby," Noah ordered, moaning as his head fell into her neck once again. Y/N's hands moved up his chest and around his neck and he made a sound deep in his throat that thrilled and frightened her to the point that her trembling walls shattered around his cock and she came as the hot rush of blood pulsed through her veins. Every muscle in her body tightened around Noah as he guided her through her orgasm until he felt himself tightening. He thrusted into her once, twice then pulled out and groaned deeply, spilling his warm release over her stomach

Spent, Noah's head fell against hers, his sweat mixing with her dampness, and he kissed her, long, hard, and still full of so much need. He rolled over and got up, heading for the bathroom Y/N laid there, panting, dazed over what just happened. Never in her life had she experienced sex like that before and now that she had, she only craved it more, but only if it was with Noah. He came back to bed carrying a warm and dry cloth, carefully cleaning up his mess. She watched him through sleepy eyes, sweetly caring for her until she was clean.

Noah tossed the towels to the floor and pulled back the blankets, climbing beneath them, still fully naked. Y/N narrowed her eyes at him as if to question if he was sure and he held up the blanket, motioning for her to come close. She was sleepy so she crawled over to him and snuggled deep under the blanket that Noah tossed over her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her into him so that her back was pressed tightly against his chest." You have no idea how much I like you," Noah confessed quietly to her in the dark. "How much you make me smile and how much I love talking to you." Y/N smiled to herself, squeezing his arm in approval. "Yes, I do," she replied. Noah was quiet for a moment. "Then you know how much I wish you were mine." She took a breath and sighed, and because she felt so warm and safe, Y/N closed her eyes. "You have me, Noah. Until the very last star in the galaxy dies, I'm yours."

[arley-ology]

I'm very normal about the Drawtectives season three trailer right now and I need to organize my thoughts about it or I will explode soooo putting that all into a tumblr post! This is less theorizing/analysis and more just me writing down things I noticed.

The beginning of the trailer is a slow zoom out on a box TV whose channels are being absent mindedley flicked through. I'm going to go through each of the broadcasts one by one

The first is an ad of some sort for a "Shimmer Park". The narrator for the ad is saying "Need a place to truly be yourself for awhile? Discover Shimmer Park!" This leads me to think that Shimmer Park is some sort of entertainment/play facility for children. Now it may just be my automatic distrust of any entertainment area geared towards kids that was spawned in me via reading Percy Jackson and the Lightning Theif too many times but something about the phrasing of "A place to truly be yourself" feels somewhat disquieting to me idk.

Next up is what appears to be a news broadcast of a local rally by MAPN. MAPN's logo is their abbreviation set over a clock face nkt unlike that on the clock tower we see later. In the middle of the news overlay is the name "Thomas Cornette" possibly the name of the reporter(?). The protesters signs are mostly obscured but the ones I can make out I'm 90% sure say "Not in our community (w/ a drawing of a rat)" and "Save our community". The horned protester in the front is yelling into the microphone, "Corperate overlords will never take our city!". We can assume the "MA" part of MAPN stands for Midnight Alley I'm not quite sure about the rest of it but if I had to guess it might be "Public News" don't quote me on that. To me just the way the clips are set up almost makes it seem like this protest against risk to Midnight Alley community is related to Shimmer Park in some way. The only thing we really know about the protest is it is somehow against corporations and (maybe) rats. There may be a link here to Papa's Pizza which we see later.

After that is the much calmer channel "Knitting with Janice". The woman knitting, assumedly Janice, says "It takes all kinds of threads to make a beautiful colorful tableau!". There's also a cat in a catbed in the background (adorable). Taking the dialoge metaphorically it's something to the effect of "It takes all different kinds of people and ideas to make a good and beautiful community." Now the use of the word tableau here is odd beacuse unless there's some secret knitting terminology I'm not aware of tableau is not usually a term used in fibre arts. A tableau is a still image of people/figures used to represent a more complex story (art/drawing connection??). Now maybe Janice is just knitting a tableau or smthing but the word choice here is interesting to me! Also the cat in the background caught my eye because of the rat themeing of this season. Cats are a major predators of mice. Maybe something like Art and Community beats the rat race???(we see rat race later) Also I'm getting big Bob Ross vibes from this lady please tell me yall see it too

Next we have a film noir (oooo!!). A woman is crying and she has just slapped a man in thr foreground. She says "I've never met a snake like you Jimmy." Snakes! Another predator of rats. But of course snake is meant metaphorically here as someone who is depictful and manipulative. Uhhhh I got nothing else on this one yall. I would say possible connection to the last channel like I did w/ Shimmer Park & The Protest but I refuse to believe that old lady Janice (both "J" names though) is capable of snake-like depict.

Another news broadcast! This seems to be from a news station other than MAPN as they have different overlays. The woman on screen says "In other news Midnight Alley is soon to throw their annual Rat Race". There's a poster for the Rat Race on screen (love a Juilia poster) that shows two rats w/ the numbers "8" and "4" on each of them respectively. I'm gonna ignore the place and date listed on there because in season two those details on posters never really came into play. There's more text on the poster saying "For more information and sign up please visit the M.A. [Midnight Alley] information center" and the bellow that it reads "Hosted by the Parks Department of Spire City". Literal Rat Race, interesting! Ofc in metaphor a rat race is used to describe and struggle of people for money and power that ultimately grants them no reward often used to describe competition in company/work environments #The Hustle. Now this is definitely connected in some way to the protest whether it be litteraly or metaphorically or both is yet to say. Also the Rat Race being sponsored by the Parks Department kinda makes me think of Shimmer Park having something to do w/ this. No matter what I feel like the Rat Race being sponsored by the Parks Department is going to be important somehow.

Papa's Pizza ad now! The guy w/ the Papa's Pizza uniform (owner?) is saying "Papa's Pizza has been here for generations, hand birthing high quality, cheaply priced slices for-". This is probably connected to the Corperation Protest we saw earlier. It seems like small business in Midnight Alley are probably being put at risk in sone way by larger corporations. Take note of how the Papa's Pizza guy's sentence cuts off here

A phone rings of screen in the static between channels.

This channel is a sitcom. A boy looks mischievously into the camera and says "RATS." before a laugh track plays. Someone off screen is holding a bowl of rats (?????) next to him. Now the way the last broadcast cuts off it makes it seem as if Pizza guy is saying "Papa's Pizza has been here for generations, hand birthing high quality, cheaply priced slices for rats." Its interesting how it makes it seem like Papa's Pizza guy - a person who's company would be effected by large corperation take over is in favor of rats - which are being used by the protesters to represent the corperations (kinda maybe?). This feels like it means Something but I can't peice together What.

All the TV programs are done now time to go over the rest of the trailer!

The TV is turned off now and we see Jancy's reflection in the black screen. Its an interesting shot makes it almost seemd like she's part of the programming. She answers the phone that is ringing, a rotary phone. Her tone drops as she revives news from the other end of the line and she tells them she'll send in the team (DRAWTECTIVES!!) right away.

Cut to black. "Children there's been a murder". (OUGH AAAAAAA IM GOING INSANE GOING RABID)

New design silhouettes!! I love them all already. I'm surprised by the lack of hat on Grandma (I like it!!) but other than that I don't really have any comments on them. York says "Do you think the house is capable of murder?". Grendan says "Unless... Murder Santa... I just write murder Santa down." These two might narrow down where at least part of this takes place somewhat. and finally Rosé says "Why are you so quiet daddy?"

Now we have what is most likely our setting, Midnight Alley! This season's logo appears on the background but I didn't grab a screen shot of that whoops. The clock tower here really stands out to me. Perhaps the spire of Spire City? Also this is just a very pleasing drawing!

The end scene of the trailer is of a rat jumping on to screen before menacing yellow eyes w/ slit pupils fade in behind it. I'm tempted to say cat for some reason.

Also Eugene is in the thumbnail but he isn't mentioned at all in the trailer. This might just be because the fans love Eugene and Julia couldn't figure out how to include him anywhere other than the thumbnail but it also makes me a little scared

I said I wasn't gonna therorize but I wanna put down my ideas about when this takes place and where this takes place.

Now Drawtectives is very time-nebulous in general but this season at least seems very 80s inspired to me. The box TV, rotary phone, neon aesthetic for the logo, upbeat disco-y theme music all seem to point towards us not being in the modern day at the very least. Ofc we're going to be in Midnight Alley but Midnight Alley also seems to be in Spire City from what the poster said. York and Grendan's lines also suggest we explore a house at some point, specifically w/ a chimney/fireplace being important.

Anywho that's it for my very nothingburger post about the Season three trailer hope that any of yall that read through alllll of that nonsense enjoyed :]

[nadinescholtes]

Hi, big fan here. I love your Laia series so much and am planning on checking out your cool uncle series it looks just as adorable. But I have a question

What would Laia's reaction to meeting Ruin, Nexus, and Dark Sun would be?

I have had that thought bouncing around in my head for several days now and I NEED to know.

Also, when does Laia enter their lives in your au? Is it after or before Nexus' turn to the dark side and death?

Hi, thank you!

She would appear after Nexus and every other future villain of Sun and Moon Show. It would be like Sun fighting and surviving and finally getting his girlfriend, lol.

But their new "villain" would be the humans, fighting for their rights, maybe? Nothing big. Fazbear treats them ok, as long the animatronics make money for them, but they don't want the title "property" over their heads.

If she was there when those three were still around. Of course, she would be very protective of the family. But she would also try to understand the villains. She wouldn't try to kill until it was really the last resort.

Dark Sun: until now he is a mystery to her but doesn't trust him.

Ruin:...throws 5000 slippers at him.

Nexus: this is going to be a long one, and my goal is a happy end. I try to keep it short.

Laia would be confused as to why Nexus became like that and would do what she is good at, watch movies, and critique them. She did that for years in the shop in her free time. So she watches the videos to see what went wrong. Having a new perspective on the situation.

She would see that the family isn't fully innocent. Their relationship with Nexus was unhealthy from the beginning and became worse with time and the death of Solar was the breaking point.

They did treat him like a nice version of Moon, not a completely different individual. I know it was unintended because of the same face, voice, and name. They should have seen what they were doing, giving him time, helping him find his own personality, altering his appearance, and giving him a new name if he wished. Nexus was talking about his issues, and they should have listened but they were dismissive. Grief can do a lot of damage.

But also Nexus should have just left, he had the knowledge and the resources. He could have just left this toxic relationship, it wasn't healthy to stay because the others didn't change their ways of how they treated him. If he had left they would have gotten a breather and kept the contact minimal until they figure themselves out.

And she would be super mad at Monty because they could have brought back old Moon any time.

Nexus became so resentful he didn't know what to do with those feelings, he didn't know why it became like that because he had new excuses every time they met, why he became evil. He chooses to use a power to feel strong and be in control but is killing him slowly.

This would remind her of one of her previous owners. Who lost control of the business and started drinking and doing other substances, which were harming them. In the end, they lost all.

She would find a way to be with Nexus alone, maybe with the help of Solar or Monty, because she knows he can't be in a room with any of his ex-friends and family without fighting. She would be scared but she knew the chance of being killed by Nexus would be minimal because every chance he got to kill, he would hesitate and keep talking and talking.

So she does that, talk. She would be someone new to talk to, someone who didn't have a past with him or Moon. Also, she understands him at some points, she wasn't her own person for a long time from day one, and she didn't have control until someone helped her.

He would threaten to kill her and her response would be: "And I could kick you in the bolts, yet here we are."

Or he would accuse her of trying to play the therapist. Her response: I know Jack sh*t about therapy. Do you want to talk or not?

If he stayed, she would say she saw how his ex-family and friends have been treating him, that it wasn't healthy from the beginning. And can't believe how fast they gave up on him, their own brother! Even Killcode who actually killed people and made their lives hell was forgiven and left alone.

She would ask him what he would have done on the first day he was "born", what person he would have liked to be, and what his life could have looked like, if he wasn't treated as the "new, nice Moon".

Maybe he would tell her. maybe not. But if he does, she would ask him, what is stopping him from living that life right now? He wants control? Go leave, start somewhere fresh, a new dimension, and go No-contact with everyone. She would tell everyone to go No-contact as well.

Yes, he left but he keeps coming back, harassing and threatening his ex-friends and family, which is not truly leaving, it's not being in control. He lets the resentment that was created by that toxic relationship control him and be bound to them and even if he kills them all, he wouldn't get that control back. Their death would not be him leaving them but them leaving him and he would never be able to change that, carry this for the rest of his life.

And those powers don't make anything better, they just make him feel like he is in control but he actually isn't. It's slowly killing him like a drug and not giving him what he wants.

He might say, that he doesn't care what happens to him. She would call him out, if he truly doesn't care about himself then he would still play the role of the "new, nice Moon" and not fight. Do what you couldn't back then, leave!

He might say, you can't tell me what to do. Laia would say, she doesn't, she just is giving advice to a person who is hurting. He can take it or not, it's his choice. But the next time she sees him and starts his crap again, she would fight him. And don't think the family would go unpunished. She would not go on eggshells and have a serious word with them and make sure they'll make up for him one day.

Now here it would be Nexus' choice of what to do.

I don't write fanfiction only scripts, lol. Usually, I would think and write on my stories for weeks until it's fleshed out and make sense. But this is just an idea of how it could go with Nexus. I hope it wasn't too much.

[inkblotsonmyhands]

----------------SPOILERS FOR ARCANE SEASON 2 ACT I BELOW----------------

Alright then, hopefully no one who hasn't watched Arcane S2 Act I yet is reading this. I don't know if this has already been said or not but I was (like so many others) blown away by Act I last Saturday and literally cannot wait for the next two. Full disclosure in case I get any facts wrong (feel free to correct me!!), I have never played League of Legends in my life and know no lore whatsoever outside the show.

I'm fascinated by Isha and Jinx's currently nonexistent but gradually growing relationship. First of all, if I remember correctly, we know that this child's name is Isha only because of a subtitle—she never introduces herself, and no one ever calls her by name. Jinx only acknowledges her grudgingly, and until the very last scene of Episode 3, Sevika acts like she isn't even there.

I think there's parallels to be drawn between Powder and Isha, starting with what I mentioned—both of them are often ignored by the people around them. Of course, Powder was loved by her sister and adoptive siblings and father, most of them just rarely got the chance to really show it. I don't think Sevika or Jinx particularly care about Isha at all as of now, but we don't know much about her past. There's got to be some reason why Chross's men were chasing her, and there's got to be a reason why she apparently has nowhere to go. I would guess she's associated with either Chross, another chembaron, or perhaps a figure like Vander—relevant to the Lanes, but not a chembaron. I would also guess that, like Powder, whatever familial figure she has/had is either dead or has abandoned her.

She's small (although we do not know exactly how old she's supposed to be), does not appear to have much fighting ability, was scared the first time she saw Jinx kill people, and, despite it all, seems to be unnaturally resilient. From the little I've seen, she seems to be good at hiding and sneaking around. These are more traits that seem similar to Powder's. I'd like to add that her flinching when Jinx fired at Chross's men does not necessarily mean she's never seen violence before, but that she's probably never been in the direct line of it. I also think she has some emotional attachment to her hat. That could just be because it's useful, though.

The larger case I want to bring to light, however, is not her resemblance to Powder—but how she differs. There's two scenes where I think this really stands out.

The first is the Jinx and Sevika vs Smeech fight. The setting of the fight bears some similarity to the fight Vi, Claggor, and Mylo get into against some thugs at the beginning of Season 1. Obviously, Jinx and Sevika are much more experienced than the kids were at the time of their fight, but they're also fighting against equally powered opponents. Regardless, the two fights bear a resemblance in where they take place—the streets. Powder is present in one fight mostly because she goes where Vi goes; Isha is at the other because she was following Jinx. Powder, in an act of self-defense, tries to use the bomb she made, which backfires and results in her losing the loot and, in a way, nullifying the others' victory. Isha, in an attempt to help Jinx, throws the bomb that Jinx made—successfully distracting the thug, and allowing Jinx an easy kill.

The second instance is the Jinx and Sevika vs Vi and Caitlyn fight. There's no obvious similarity here, but I think, especially from Isha/Powder's perspective, this is a very similar situation to the fight Vi and everyone gets into against Silco's gang in the warehouse at the end of S1 Act I. Assuming Isha has very little context (just like Powder did, at the time), to her, it's a very big, very scary fight of the people who are "with" her—the good guys—vs the people attacking them—the bad guys. Powder, in an act of bravery, tries to intervene with a device she knows nothing about other than the fact that it explodes—and it does explode, and ultimately kills most of the people she was trying to save. Isha, in an act of bravery, tries to intervene with a gun, something she has presumably never held before, to save Jinx's life—and she succeeds. Another interesting detail is that in Powder's case, Silco's gang, armed with Shimmer, was blatantly and dangerously overpowered—Powder brought in the Hextech, which in theory, evened the odds, or even tipped them in their favor—but still cost them the fight. The fight Isha was witnessing was fairly evenly matched—Vi and Caitlyn had more Hextech weapons, but Jinx did have one Hextech weapon, and she and Sevika had the advantage of it being on their turf. Isha intervened with a simple gun, arguably the weakest weapon on the scene, but still succeeded. Lastly, Powder's intervention was from a distance, while Isha threw herself into the action. It should go without saying that I'm not trying to put Powder and Isha against each other at all—I'm just observing the situations they got put into.

To address the elephant in the room—I am aware that Powder and Jinx are the same person, but I'm drawing a distinction here because I'm examining the similarities between Powder (young Jinx, if you will) and Isha, wondering how Jinx would perceive them (if she perceives them at all), and how that would impact her relationship with her. I have no predictions as to what that may be, but I do expect Jinx and Isha's relationship to be an interesting one, and potentially, Isha may even play an important role in changing Jinx.

One last thing, although this is unrelated to the parallels—I mentioned earlier that Sevika acts like Isha doesn't exist until the very end of Episode 3. When Isha throws herself on Jinx, Caitlyn continues attempting to fire, and Vi attempts to stop her, I believe Sevika triggers the blast, ending that altercation, largely to save Isha. When she realizes that Caitlyn won't back away, she does the best thing she can to put a stop to the situation right there.

I could draw this even further into a Vander-Vi-Powder hold parallels to Sevika-Jinx-Isha theory, but that may be a stretch, even for me.

[soft-cristobalite]

Watched arcane season 2 act 1, thought abt it, so here are some of my thoughts in no particular order. Obvious spoilers.

Also, i watched in dub. Important to know when i am quoting charaters + when i am talking about their tone.

Starting of with something that is directly affected by dub — ukrainian Jayce is my Jayce. Ppl said he sounded condesending while talking to Ekko — not. at. alllll. true for my Jayce. My Jayce sounded tired, emotionaly burn out. "You drink tea, Ekko?" said with no though to it, in a context of continues talking of "Haha do i live here? Hahah....... Do you guys want tea? Want some tea? I'll make tea. Do you drink tea, Ekko?". But d-dub is supposed to stay true to the original— I DONT CAREEE. I love my blorbo almost-himbo Jayce, never changing his characterisation in my mind.

And i will hold Jayce's hand when i say this — you were. Just so gay for like... Essentialy going "Are you okay? Good, good" to lady Mel Medarda HERSELF and then seeing Victor and losing your mind. Sprinting with him in your hands to your lab. LIVING in your lab to monitor him. I just... I get it, you don't have many friends. But like...... Really dude. Reaally.

Give Mel and Ekko thirty minutes. I promise you they would work it out. Eternal piece would be achieved.

I know there are a lot of different opinions regarding Caitlyn. I will not be explaining in-depts what i think about her acr, because a) who cares and b) i like to see her go cray-cray. But like — why isnt anybody exept for Vi attempting to stop her??? Like why is Jayce mourning Victor's twink death instead of, yk, stopping his childhood-best-friend-kinda-younger-sister from killing ppl of Zaun, the last thing Victor wants btw? She and Vi are twenty-ish — WHYYYY are they going through it by themselves??? Why doesnt baby yoda guy with German name that i dont dare to write trying to stop the daughtrer of his ex-collegue? He is 600 or something, im sure he could've come up with advice.

Cait pointing her gun at a child is terrifying, it opens up the possibilities of her going even more blinded with anger, doing even more horrific things, and Vi is right to try and stop her. However... I know damn right i would've believe her when she said she will not miss 😭 Every single time she fired her gun she was very precise. Even in that scene she aimed at the gun the girl was holding like two seconds ago and got a perfect. fucking. score. Like i dont remember her missing at all, actually.

"Ohhhhh you're gonnnaaa haaaaaattteeee Maddie after act two—" says who? On that note, i hope both Cait AND Vi will sleep with a few random people. Good for them. Let them try to forget about each other only to realise just how down bad they are for one another. Let the scenes of Cait and Maddie hooking up intertwine with Vi's one night stand.

"Maddie is just gonna be a victim of comander Cait :(((" and i do not have any thing to say to that — we dont yet KNOW what will happen — but I dont think Cait will try to manipulate her into this. I think Maddie will flirt a bit, Cait will try and seek salvage and vulnerability in someone, especially since she is now constantly in public's eye and needs to project hope™ and stoicism™. It will be a genuine attempt to move on — not anybody's fault she can't.

But oh god, oh goooddd i cant wait for Maddie to loose the spark in her eyes due to lesbian situationship.

[monstersflashlight]

Hi! This is not a request or anything like that, I just want to share an annoyance I've had recently and I don't feel like any other side of Tumblr can understand/ relate to it. (I also don't except a reply, I just need to rant a little).

I have a thing for ghosts, like the supernatural kind. Absolutely love it so much, and it's usually hard to come by stories (spicy stories) written about / with ghosts. So when I find someone posting about it, I follow and bookmark if the stories are good (which I've done with your blog! Absolutely LOVE your ghost stories)

However, in the last few years, the game "Gall Of Duty" have had a rise in fame with one of their characters named 'Ghost', so now when I'm searching for stories about spicy ghosts, I find 95% of them are about that character.

Don't get me wrong, I do have a mask-kink and there are some really good stories about it out there. It just makes it a lot harder to find stories about supernatural ghosts, cause when I search for it I have to spend a good amount of time weeding out the character from the supernatural.

And yes, I know I can add 'supernatural' to my tagged searches, but not all stories about ghosts are tagged with the supernatural (often, oddly enough, are the stories not tagged with that).

And because I have ADD, my brain doesn't always put ghosts under the category 'monsters', so I kinda forgett to add that to my searches as well.

It's just a small annoyance, I do admit that. But it's just annoying when i am in the mood and kinda just want to to do a quick search and then ending up spending a couple of hours trying to find what I actually am looking for.

Idk, just thought someone could relate, and maybe have some tips?

Lots of love?

X

Hi anon! I understand the frustration, I'd say your best bet is to block the Call of Duty tag so those don't show, or maybe follow the monster blogs to find the stuff directly from the source. I don't know if those advice would work, maybe someone else has an idea. :)

[avnche]

WHAT ONCE WAS

Changin x Afab reader {angst-fluff}

PART FOUR

8 MONTHS LATER

Everyday after you became Changbin's girlfriend you have been really happy. There are times where Changbin becomes really busy with work so he can't come over to your place but he does make sure to send flowers and small gifts in his absence.

Now it has been 2 weeks and he hasn't even replied to your text or sent you his regular "Good Morning" texts. You are aware that he has an upcoming comeback and his schedule gets really crazy so you didn't want to push things even if you were worried. You decide just to text him how he was before putting your phone down and focusing on the customers that just came in.

You quickly became busy with barely any break in between and like always your so-called friends weren't much help. It's always like this. Tae is always in the back on his phone, Jiho and Momo either doing the bare minimum or doing something that doesn't need to be done right now. Momo stood a few feet behind you cleaning off the counter where you placed your phone.

As you continued running the shop making sure every customer was attended too Momo noticed your phone was unlocked once she saw you had a text come through from Changbin with a heart at the end of his name. Momo being the nosy person she is picked up your phone and looked at your texts you shared with Changbin. She wanted to know if it was true...if you were actually texting who she thought. Momo looked back to check if you noticed her but you didn't. You were too busy ringing up customers. So Momo called the number. It only rang once and Changbin's voice could be heard on the other side. "Hey Baby, What's up?" Is all Changbin said before Momo quickly hung up the phone.

Is she really dating Changbin? HER!? Momo thought. She finally put the phone back and continued cleaning.

After a long busy day the work was finally done. Jiho, Tae and Momo were just heading out. You waved goodbye to finish the last couple of hours before grabbing your belongings and closing up shop.

When you got home you were so tired you didn't even bother checking your phone. You would have noticed the multiple text and missed calls for Changbin but you were just so tired that you passed out immediately after you laid down.

It was now the morning after. The sound of your phone constantly ringing wakes you up earlier than usual. You grabbed it from your night stand and answered it in a groggy tone. "Hello?"

"I have been calling and texting and you don't respond!?" Changin yelled. His never yelled at you before like this so you were completely caught off guard and almost speechless. "I was tired from work." You said calmly hoping to help the already heated Changbin. "Have you ever looked all over the Internet!!?" He shouted louder. You began to panic as you weren't used to him mad at you and from PTSD from childhood trauma. Changin knows these things about you which is why he never raises his voice at you.

"Look at your texts!! This is bad!" Changin yelled again. You removed the phone from your ear so you can look at Changbin's texts. There were multiple links. Your hands were shaking from the complete panic you were in but you managed to click on one of them.

It took you to an article titled. "Changin's secret lover; a lowly bakery worker!"

This article somehow found out your name and even some pictures of the texts you shared with Changbin. Not only that, they also said some nasty things about you and toxic fans upset at the whole situation, demanding Changbin get kicked out of the group.

"I.....I didn't say a...anything." You stuttered. "Then how do they know!? How would they get pictures of our texts!?" Changin was roaring. "I DON'T KNOW!" You shouted back getting fed up with Changbin yelling at you like a child. "I knew it was a bad idea, ever letting you back into my life!" Changin shouted again.

You immediately froze and were shocked at his words.

"Changbin!?" You could hear someone in the background telling Changbin's last words were out of line.

You immediately hung up after that. Your chest was tight and your breathing was rapid. You felt like you were going to pass out.

You knew you had to call someone before you do something rash so you decided to call your mom.

"Hello?"

"Mom, it's happening again...I need you" You managed to say even though you were having a panic attack.

"I'll be there in 10 minutes...just remember your breathing exercises." Your mom said before quickly hanging up the phone so she can be there for you.

Minutes felt like hours but your mother finally made it. Rushing into your apartment and into your room where you were. You were more calm due to your breathing exercises but you were in tears.

"Honey what happened?" Your mother asked as she rushed to your side immediately putting you in her arms so you could cry in her arms. "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry." You cried sorry feeling bad to call your mom, pulling her away from whatever she was doing just because you allowed some childhood trauma to get the best of you again.

Your father was a drunk who used to physically and mentally abused you. Not a day went by that your father wasn't yelling at you for the smallest thing. Your mother often protects you the best she could. She finally got enough money to leave him. You never saw him again. You were happy but you didn't know the trauma you went through you would have to carry for the rest of your life.

Changin yelling at you like that brought you back to that scared little girl hiding in your closet to escape his wrath.

You told your mom everything that happened. She knew about your relationship through the articles but she didn't want to say anything. She just knew that she had to be there on speed dial for you when the time came.

"Changbin is just angry right now...give it some time he'll come around."

That time became 4 months without a word from him. Eventually you have given up. What the media was saying about you brought you to a dark place. You stop showing up to work as you started to get those same remarks from your friends and the constant media trying to interview you was bad for business.

You quit and eventually had to move back in with your mother. You even had to change your number after it was leaked.

Surely Changbin was going through a lot worse but it wasn't your fault but at the same time you thought maybe he was right that you were a mistake to come back into his life.

[lialuvsaven]

Icymi but also a little rambling about stuff I added here ( let me have this, I've spent more time w a dictionary writing this than I have in my last two years of highschool) and also bc I thought more writing this than I did any essay in my academic life 😔😔😔😔

1. The parchment shaped wall clock was supposed to be based on. This curio. I was so entraces by its design I pictured how something similar would look like as a clock (and yes this is a curio but it's weird looking enough that you can find it in some empty cardboard boxes or in the trash)

2. The soup made with nettle leaves- is inspired from Cignidaki zumi— an actual Romani dish, soup made with stinging nettle leaves. I found a bunch of romani recipes but this one really caught my eye bc we have stinging nettle plant here I didn't know u can eat them until now.

3. The pink diamond bit is from the jade's timeline thing hsr posted a while ago ofc, I wanted to see a follow up on it and didn't get it so I made my own reality. I don't think finding out his birthday would take jade much effort bc A. The reports mention the avgin extinction being on their religious festival kakava and. His name is kakavasha. B. But other than that, checking his files (esp in the beginning) I like to think the system is advanced enough that it automatically concerts various dating systems and such (they're modern Enough to have the synesthesia beacon)

4. The corundum stone (god BLESS finding a stone similar to his eyes took YEARS OFF MY LIFE) it has other colors? Don't worry. Hsr has better gemstones. We can't even get the diamonds from Uranus.

5. I have.... negative feelings about jade, if you couldn't tell. I tried not to make her like a completely evil lady, but given how she did call him to "talk" post penacony main quest in canon (it had layers too) I like to think between his whole thing in penacony and later actions she thought he might need a reminder. And shed know to pick a good time.

6. virtually no way for the reader to know his personal info if he doesn't give them UNLESS she knows someone like Jade. Had they asked topaz, she'd tell them that he doesn't like it (bc the stonehearts' birthdays and such are an occasion for a party/dinner/ etc, upper class socializing stuff (that is important to the business and cause) but aventurine doesn't do THAT even tho he does throw those necessary parties anyway. So it's obvious that he. Doesn't like celebrating it at least if nothing else. Later scrapped that cuz.... that's a lot of thinking

7. I thought of adding the catcakes bc cats (pets) are a great source of comfort for So many people. And they're incredibly good at sensing human emotions. And (canonically) they're said to be as intelligent as a 6 year old so. The catcakes remind him of food when aventurine is lost in his thoughts (and it doesn't feel like it's pleasant), to distract him and direct him towards a task. They all gather around him when he starts drinking bc while they likely don't understand the concept of drinking well they DO know he's distressed, so keeping him company to help him. They'd be a little freaked out to see him emotional I imagine, bc that's not something they ever saw (hence the immediate nervous attempt at comforting by nuzzling into him) I looked up how real cats act to write this and now I want a kitty do bad 😞😔

I also like. Didn't keep them in focus at all bc like....he's not in the headspace to think about them much. But they keep showing up bc that IS his family, too .

8. Dismissing a comforting smell as a potion seems something he'd do. There's actually an all good potion ( consumable) in hsr and while THAT one didn't end up in the market there's def similar stuff already. I imagine something that makes hospital food feel comforting for the patients would be popular, hence that conclusion

9. Kakavasha's shoes . I actually thought they were different when I wrote this but later realized that they seem ....to be modified. Mended maybe? But yeah. Only a pair of shoes

10. His mother smells of creosote bush. This species is found in the deserts of southwestern North America, and is said to smell of the desert rain. For a child who was blessed by rain on his birth day I think his mother likely smelt of rain, too.

11. I wanted to add in a scene with Aventurine's secretary to show she really NEVER looks at his eyes because they're. Usually seen as freaky and odd by people. And paired with the discomfort itself, she'd naturally be more careful to not do that to not offend him (him being her boss and. Because he knows how everyone sees them.) not like that's what HE wants, but what she assumes. But I decided to scrap that lol

12. Also he only managed to cry that much bc he was inebriated lol I don't think he'll ever cry like that otherwise (plus his house is empty so he doesn't have to hide it(

And I wrote down about him still remembering the painful memories with his family (while he tries to forget the extinction event desperately) bc he needs to Preserve their memory and spent like 10 minutes thinking about it preservation.... preservation....

But anyway that's about it!!

Happy Birthday, Aventurine!!

“Aventurine always tries not to remember. He's never synced the Sigonian calendar system to check the date in trailblaze calendar, never makes the mistake of dwelling on the memories surrounding this day— even when he's too drunk to remember his own name. Done everything possible to not acknowledge it; because this day feels like nothing but a curse to him.

Unfortunately, Jade has now ensured that he never gets to forget his birthday, again.”

Pairing: Aventurine x reader

Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Comfort in the end to compensate for everything else ❤️ Reader is not physically present in the fic (they're not dead it's ok)

wc: 3.3k

Aventurine was abruptly interrupted by a knock on the door just as the sun began to slant westward.

With a sigh, he puts down the pen and glances at the wall clock. The hands on the parchment-shaped monstrosity read 1 pm, but his eyes are drawn back to the purple tongue protruding from its massively extended mouth. Seriously, where does Stelle find these items? "An ugly, purple parchment shaped wall clock that looks like it's ready to eat people"— isn't something most people would think to give him, to say the least. But that's the thing—it was Stelle.

She claimed to have found it during one of her "excavations." And even though Miss March 7th did her best to keep her friend from going into further details, stepping on Stelle's toes right in front of him and giving her a sidelong glance, as if he wouldn't notice, he could tell what kind of "excavations" would turn up something like this. Not like he minds the origins of this gift, however. Gifts from friends are few and far to come by, especially ones who actually tolerate him. Not to mention, Stelle likely sincerely believes that it's a cool gift, which is why it has replaced the diamond-embedded wall clock on his wall.

His musings are interrupted by a second knock, which, like the first one, reverberates once around the room before fading away in embarrassment. "Come in." He announces, reclining back in his seat and looking at the door with expectation in his eyes. It was not uncommon for his secretary to appear randomly in his office, constantly fussing over yet another minor issue. He believed it was her; at least, his itinerary showed he didn't have any guest visits today. Maybe it was time to replace assistants—the new hire is clearly not on the same wavelength as him. But he'd only recently had Topaz yell at him for changing staff so frequently; he'd prefer not to tell her that her choice was horribly disappointing just yet.

With a tiny bag bearing a brand he is all too acquainted with, the secretary enters the office. She keeps her gaze fixed on the floor the entire time, hence doesn't notice when her supervisor raises an eyebrow at the sight of his favorite jewelry brand. "Sir," she says in a low, somewhat flat voice, akin to that of a news reporter. "Earlier, a staff of Madam Jade stopped by. You have a present."

A grin appears on Aventurine's face, followed by a joyful chuckle. With how busy work has been lately, he'd almost forgotten when he asked Jade for a pink diamond, as has Jade apparently, seeing how long it's taken for her to send this. His request was a joke, of course, only meant to irritate Topaz. But he wasn't surprised either; Jade always takes good care of her weaponry. "Ahhh, no wonder!" He chirps and presses his palms together. "She must've finally found some generosity in her heart, hm?" He muses, and his assistant can only stand there stoically. He waves her off as she places the bag on his table and departs with an unnecessary low bow, never looking at his eyes once. As always.

When the secretary has left the room, he opens the bag, humming as he removes the box and gift card. Jade's handwriting is distinctive: prim and precise cursive that resembles a font.

"Happy birthday, Aventurine. This jewel would suit you far better than the pink diamond you asked for, don't you think?" — Jade

Kakavasha freezes. His birthday, she says, but she'd need to align the standard calendar system to the Sigonian one to find that out. She sent him a…..….a gift? For his birthday? 

Is this a fucking joke?

The box reveals a chunk of corundum. Raw, uncut, pink and blue hues all over. Shades way too close to his eyes, and it doesn't take a gemologist to tell that Jade had done her searching thoroughly to obtain this. A jewel the color of his eyes, the color of Avgin eyes, neatly wrapped in a box for….to send ..what sort of message, exactly? Oh Avgin, never forget who you were before I found you—unpolished and undeserving. forget your name, but never your roots.  

The note is crumpled and thrown in the trashcan, while the corundum and its box are hastily and carelessly pushed back into the bag. Really, so typical of Jade, he scoffs as he tosses the godforsaken bag into a random drawer, never to be seen again. 

Kakavasha— no, Aventurine always tries not to remember. He's never synced the Sigonian calendar system to check the date in trailblaze calendar, never makes the mistake of dwelling on the memories surrounding this day— even when he's too drunk to remember his own name. Done everything possible to not acknowledge it; because this day feels like nothing but a curse to him.

Unfortunately, Jade has now ensured that he never gets to forget, again. 

In any case, Aventurine concludes that it is not good for him to worry about this too much. Yes, he can just forget about the corundum. Yes, he is able to forget how it resembled Avgin eyes. Yes, he can also forget that Jade most likely sent this to "keep him in check" following the stunt he did in Penacony. But it was a mistake on his part to not see something coming. She had done this before, and it would not be the last time. He smiles at his own reflection in the bathroom mirror, composed, shrewd, and calculated. Since a mirror has the freedom of choice, it does not return his smile.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

By the time the car comes to a stop in front of his house, Aventurine is exhausted. His chauffeur unlocks the door for him, and he makes his way to the elevator. Yet he's interrupted again— of course, because it's a cursed day, and Aventurine has to restrain himself from scowling at the gateman, who stands in front of him wearing an anxious expression. "Sir, your friend had visited earlier to drop off something."

He raises an eyebrow and is about to inquire when he notices the bag the man is carrying. Without saying anything further, he simply takes the bag. You are the only one who'd own a dumb clockie bag and the only one who'd ever drop things off at his place.

When he steps in, his three catcakes meow loudly to greet him, and feels somewhat grateful for it. Today was just too exhausting, after all. He understands what this is about, based on the fact that you always give him gifts in person. Why, of all days, would you consider dropping it off today? And with no advanced notice- completely unlike you. How annoying, did Jade really have to do this too? He's never disclosed his birthday to you, so you probably coerced her into telling you, and she was glad to oblige, given you are of value to her.

Aventurine doesn't realize he's been standing in the kitchen for a long time until Spade begins massaging its fluffy body on his legs. He is surrounded by his three catcakes, who are all staring up at him expectantly. The message is crystal clear: We Want Food. He moves swiftly to get their food bowls, chuckling to himself before setting your lunchbox on the counter, sort of as an afterthought. At least they'll be able to go to bed well fed tonight. 

After serving them dinner, he leaves the kitchen carrying a bottle of wine, hoping to spend the remainder of the evening crashing on the couch. He can just leave everything else for tomorrow. The benefit of drinking is that it can temporarily impair your ability to sense emotions. He only needs a short term fix, after all. Come tomorrow, he'll take hangover pills, and walk out of this house as Aventurine of the stratagems again— undoubtedly.

He turns on a random B-grade movie, prepared to drink the night away. And he does precisely that—he pushes down thoughts of how his childhood friends, whose features now misty in his memories, would react if they were to see him. With another shot, he pushes down recollections of his mother's cooking—the special meals for the Kakava—and his birthday. Another to accept the now-blurry face of his sister in his memory as the only proof of her existence. Another to forget the clay dolls she'd made for him, on the last birthday kakavasha got to celebrate, that were broken when he had to run for his life. And one more shot, and another, till he's forgotten everything; till he's numb and emotionless.

Feeling empty and hollow is far worse than anything else, and being unable to cry isn't as pleasant as he thought it'd be. But in his lavish home, where gold abounds in every nook and cranny, he has little reason for tears. Money may not be able to buy him happiness, as he is well aware, but it certainly does spare him from ugly tears unfit for his visage. Maybe that's why he hasn't cried in a while, or perhaps he has simply lost his soul somewhere along the way. He stays on the couch till 3 am, accompanied by his pets. He pretends not to see the troubled looks they shoot at him, whispered words passed between them that are clearly about him. By the time he decides to rest for the night, he is fatigued, sluggish, and barely keeping it together.

When he gets up to grab a glass of water from the kitchen, Ace makes a protesting noise before promptly shutting up. Catcakes are smart creatures, and they understand him better than most individuals in his life (or maybe the difference lies in care) His throat is dry, and ice cold water from the freezer provides enormous relief. However, the respite is taken away from him by the crackling lightning, loud as a whip, pulling out memories up to the forefront of his mind again. Of the lightning without the rain, of Sigonia-IV. The drumming of the thunder is largely hidden by the concrete walls, so it isn't as hard on the ear—but it aches a lot more than it did before. Aventurine sneers to himself, dismissing the idea as ludicrous. As if.

The second time the thunder sizzles, Aventurine has to take a sharp breath and grip the countertop to steady himself. It sounds like playing dead in the bleeding streams of Sigonia-IV, like the booming cackle of the mocking thunder. Had he been an insolent child, just a little more doubtful than he already was, he'd believe it was Mama Fenge herself laughing at her so called "blessed child". The thunder sounds similar, but it's not the same. No, because this is still Aventurine and he's still here and those are someone else's memories, forgotten and buried in sand.

Aventurine sighs.

Drinking too much has never done any good to him.

Just as he is ready to leave the kitchen, he notices the lunchbox sitting the counter out of the corner of his eye. Oh, right. He hadn't even touched it. A distraction doesn't seem bad now, though. If he wants to fabricate a plausible lie about eating the food, he would at least need to know what kind of food you sent. If the mental image of your frown after discovering he never even looked at what you sent is what gives him the final push , he would never admit it.

The lunchbox has a plains bear cub logo: you've always been a sucker for cute things. He sets aside the little note attached for later this time, preferring to taste the dinner first. It looks like you chose to make him some kind of soup. Insulated lunchboxes are a blessing— because it's surely been well over half a day since you made it, yet it's still warm. While the presentation is relatively simple, it smells strangely comforting— effect of some potion? He's heard of those, but they're usually used for sick patients, no? Other than that, this is the first homemade meal he's having in a….while. Not that it matters. Aventurine isn't picky, and while the leafy greens are unfamiliar to him, he believes he can handle at least a tablespoon.

Even the largest avalanche can be triggered by the smallest of things. Just one spoonful, and yet it's enough to make his world stop.

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The dry, broken soil scraped against his bare feet, producing little clouds of dust in its wake. His strides were light and rapid, nearly tripping over himself with excitement and giddiness. Just a little more, and he'll reach the finish line. Even the Sun's typical glare felt kind today; warm and tender against his tanned skin. Jumping over the homemade hurdles, he reaches the finish line far ahead of his friends. They protest and pout, and he taunts them with the biggest smile on his face. The soles of his feet feel slightly sore from running barefoot, but Kakavasha wouldn't risk destroying his only pair of shoes for a game. 

When he hears his sister's voice calling for him, he rushes to embrace her and buries his face in her apron. His mother once told him that the Avgins all possess lovely voices, but Kakavasha believes his sister's is the best, especially when she laughs.

"And when will you listen to me and stop running around in the middle of the day, hm?" She pinches his nose and uses her apron to wipe the dirt off his face. Kakavasha beams at her with no regrets, proudly displaying the gap between his teeth. Once kakavasha had said his goodbyes to his friends, they walk hand in hand towards their tent.

There, his mother welcomes them with a warm embrace that smells like creosote bush and desert rain. “My darling," she coos, putting his small hands in her larger ones, rough from labour. "I remember you promised to be on time for lunch last time?" He grins cheekily, vowing not to do it again. (He's a repeat offender, but he knows that his mother and sister can't stay upset at him for long.)

His mother laughs, and tells him to tidy up before eating. Kakavasha's tummy is grumbling by the time he returns, and he finds the mats his sister laid down to sit on. The two siblings sit next to each other, chatting and giggling as they wait for their mother. She serves them a pot of hot soup with nettle leaves and lentils, just the way Kakavasha prefers it. He's overjoyed; quickly finishing his prayers before digging in. Kakavasha is a growing boy, and that's proved again when he finishes his bowl before his family.

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The soup she'd served him back then wasn't anything lavish; just a simple soup with local herbs and nettle leaves in a broth that smelt so uniquely of hers. His mama may have had a knack for cooking, but due to a lack of opportunities and resources, she never got to demonstrate her abilities. Compared to that, your food is much finer, and while excellent, it lacks the warmth of his mother's hands.  

Nevertheless, he can't resist taking another spoonful and quickly putting it in his mouth because the familiarity is so, so palpable. He recalls that his sister wanted him to eat better, so she gave him half of her portion after he finished his. His mother then gave his sister half of her portion, as they are Both growing children. All of a sudden, the bickering, the laughs, and their voices are as plain as day in his mind. He can't fully recall the glitter in his sister's eyes or the dimple on his mother's cheek, but it's clearer than any other memory he had of them, that's for sure. 

Aventurine can't stop crying, even if he wants to. Trying to halt the choking sobbing is fruitless, as is trying to figure out what's going on. He picks up the little message with shaking hands, hoping—praying—that it will help. You'll make it make sense. Somehow.

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“Dear Aventurine, I hope you have a wonderful birthday!!!!”  

Written in thin, flowing, rounded letters that are noticeably cleaner than your actual handwriting. You undoubtedly put a lot of effort into each letter you wrote. Aventurine was correct in assuming you found out his birthday through Jade, as you have written it here. "Buying a gift for you seems…a little perfunctory," you said, "so I've settled with cooking you something myself."

"And if the dish tastes familiar (which I hope it does) then yes, you've guessed it right— it's a traditional Avgin dish."

The perfumed ink is thicker here, a few ink blots from where you've likely paused to think, go over each sentence in your head before writing them down.

You mention finding the Avgin dishes by reading some kind of research paper on Sigonian culture and food, but Aventurine isn't sure he can believe that. You wrote, "I was fortunate enough," yet chance alone wouldn't get you something like that. Sure, maybe some doctoral candidate was crazy enough to choose a dead planet and its deader tribes to write about, but finding that paper would be too difficult. The biggest issue, however, is that Aventurine believes this dish should not and cannot exist. The stinging nettle leaves his mother used are no longer available, and while he didn't know much about cooking at the time, he was aware that all of the spices he knew were almost extinct. He's looked enough to know.

"I'll be honest, I had some trouble locating the ingredients for it and had to swap the majority of them because I couldn't find them. I really wanted to bring back a familiar feeling, even if it tastes very different from how you remember it. Plus, it's the thought that counts, right?"

In contrast to the light-hearted language, your writing is slightly wobbly and darker here, and Aventurine wonders if you realise your emotions seep through every single one of your actions, laid bare for the world to see.

Noting the disappearance of their owner, curious, the catcakes peep into the kitchen are immediately alarmed to see their owner sitting on the counter stool, sobbing and clutching a box. Spade, unsure of what to do, nuzzles it's head on Aventurine's leg, while the others meow in an attempt to calm him down. Aventurine hasn't sobbed in a long time—he can't remember how to anymore. His body shakes with each ragged and broken sob, sounding shattered and damaged, but he can't stop.

"I hope it brings you fond memories" is what you wrote down, but are you aware of the full impact of what you did for him? Most likely not. Aventurine cherishes all of his memories, including the unpleasant ones: as long as it involves his family. His misery knows no bounds, but he's only had a few years with his sister, and even fewer with his mother. So even the saddest memories are never forgotten, so he can preserve as much of them as possible. They live through his memories, after all. 

Even when plain, his mother's meals provided him with more warmth than anything else back then. To feel that warmth decades later is a blessing he can't repay— but a blessing nonetheless. He doesn't have many memories like this one either, gentle and happy, contrary to the endless memories of struggling. He remembers their love so vividly right now, feels it so strongly, alongside yours— that he has no choice but to revel in it.

(Come tomorrow , when he's sober, puffy-eyed from crying and not as vulnerable, he'll have trouble figuring your reasoning. But for now, he'll be fine. Tonight, he'll go to sleep feeling loved. Tonight, his pets will cuddle him to sleep. Tonight, he'll dream of a Sigonia Only he knows.)

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A/N: I'm honestly still so embarrassed about this bc I have an idea but can't execute it like I want to and 🫠🫠 As always, comments and reblogs are really appreciated!! Thank you for reading <3

[kiirous]

I started watching Voltron. I'm on season three now, and so far, I have these moods.

1: making fun of the voltron robots. Because it's power rangers all over again.

2: Keith is so pretty.

3: About Klance: just Kiss already.

4: Everything go boom!!!!! *cackles madly*

5: Keith is pretty

6: Coran is hilarious

7: Keith is pretty

8: Can you please stop making stupid decisions?

9: Shiro needs to be protected. Keith, too.

There are a lot of thoughts, but these stand out the most.