#i love him as a character i love the build i have on him

[fucked-up-mover-shaker]

ive said this once and i will say it again, grady is the most nuanced character in KOTLC. Purely from just how he is written in canon- there is so much we can draw from his character with little inference.

On the one hand, you have a walking tragedy: he manifested one of the rarest and most dangerous abilities in the lost cities at a young age, he lost his daughter to her fiance, (if we're talking theory, he may have been in the neverseen), you can't help but feel sympathy for him.

But then- you realize something terrifying.

Gisela and Vespera are right.

Grady is the most ruthless elf in the lost cities.

But he's also one of the kindest.

Despite the danger it poses, he and Edaline adopt the Moonlark, they put themselves at risk. Despite everything been through, they willingly give their love to a girl who needs it. That is one of the kindest acts someone can pull off.

However, as alluded to earlier, there's another side to him. Despite how concerned, kind, and thoughtful he is; he is also vengeful, impulsive, and distrusting.

Let's look at Everblaze again. Partially because it's the best example of his darker nature, partially because I have it on hand right now, partially because it is my favorite book in the series.

In Everblaze, Grady's vengeance and impulse is seen in full. Take King DImitar, for an example. Sophie was going to be taken away; and Grady jumped in. He believed it to be the right thing to do; and believe me it was, but there is a dark tone to it. A feeling of impulse; that he wasn't truly thinking at the moment. And he almost violated the treaty, if it wasn't for the Councillors coming to his defense.

This scene serves as subtle foreshadowing for later and sets up something very important about Grady:

He could kill someone if he wanted to. And he knows that.

But what could push him that far? Well, there is an answer to that, an answer we later find out:

Jolie's death.

When he finds out the true circumstances to Jolie's untimely demise, his sheer ruthlessness is demonstrated. There's a deeper level to this however, it is his underlying fear of being taken advantage of showing to its surface.

Brant took advantage of Grady and Edaline, and that is the biggest injustice to Grady. Because it's what he has been fearing, it's why he had closed himself off to the world.

That fear causes the sheer level of terror that is caused in Grady. Terror that builds into his impulses, which causes him to go out to find Brant, with intent to kill.

That's why he doesn't want Sophie to come with, he doesn't want his daughter to see the monster he was about to become.

The monster he believes himself to be.

It's not just Everblaze, but a feeling that permeates his character and his choices.

His distrust of Keefe stems from two things:

The similarities he sees between himself and Keefe (the sense of humor, the blond hair, and later in the books; the ability of control).

How that, in a way, is all Grady has ever known.

Elves manifest young. Meaning that he has spent a majority of his life being distrusted by his peers, as well as distrusting the world and fearing someone would take advantage of him.

So when there's a talented but terrified young kid that needs his helps; whether through adoption or through training, he obligies.

Why?

Because he sees himself so much in that situation. Because of that deep feeling of kinship, he feels a need to take care of people in that situation.

Grady's empathy trumps his distrust.

And that's why he starts helping Keefe. That's why he adopts Sophie.

tl;dr: grady's character absolutely FUCKS why does no one talk about this???

also he is hotter than hell and i will fight people on this

[rivervalian]

strap in time for a riverlore explanation:

ok so at the end of season 5, veronica’s evil dad hiram lodge places a bomb under betty and archie’s bed which goes off and the force of the explosion sends them into a parallel universe called rivervale where supernatural stuff happens.

satan himself comes to visit rivervale his name is lou cypher and everyone makes a deal with him. (unrelated to the plot, just wanted to let yall know)

they have a 5 episode arc in rivervale where all characters die but they don’t stay dead and in the end we find out archie created this reality to see his dead father once more which is very sweet and touching actually.

eventually the universes start to leak into one another and season 1 reggie shows up and picks a fight with the recasted reggie and veronica’s like we should have a threesome.

another jughead from another dimension comes in to fix this whole thing and his idea is to make out with veronica on archie’s bed because him and veronica are the antithesis or betty and archie.

anyways they eventually fix the timeline without bombs but here’s the catch: a jughead must stay in the teen sex bunker forever and write comics of riverDale and riverVale so that the two universes can coexist.

i would like to point out that at this point in time (at least in my opinion) there are 4 jugheads in the riververse: 1. riverdale jughead 2. rivervale jughead 3. narrator jughead we��ve all met in episode 1 and finally 4. teen sex bunker jughead who’s writing comics to prevent the two universes from collapsing

they return to the normal timeline but the main characters have gained superpowers as a result of their proximity to the supernatural. betty can see people’s auras, archie is invincible, veronica is toxic (literally), tabitha can control time, jughead can read and control minds and cheryl can manipulate fire.

by this point percival pickens arrives in town and he’s like i’m gonna make this place into a late stage capitalism dream land and archie’s like nuh uh you won’t. percival starts building a ghost train and he won’t pay the workers. archie and tabitha convince the workers to unionize by singing bread and roses.

there’s an episode where tabitha tries to prevent the mlk assassination. she also stops riverdale from becoming a sundown town. in the same episode i believe we find out tabitha is actually an angel she’s the guardian angel of riverdale. this realization comes to her as she’s drinking chocolate milkshake from the holy grail. yes, THE holy grail from jesus’ last supper.

percival pickens will gain even more powers from the upcoming comet so the gang has to stop it from destroying riverdale. they don’t know what to do though.

now would be a good time to mention cheryl has an ancestor called abigail blossom who was burned at stake for being a witch by archie, betty and jughead’s ancestors: archibald andrews, beatrice cooper and jedediah jones. this abigail was a lesbian and in love with toni’s ancestor: thomasina topaz.

we also find out abigail resurrected in the body of cheryl and another one of cheryl’s ancestors poppyseed blossom.

back to thomasina though. cheryl contacts abigail’s soul and she’s like ok i’ll help you only if you let me have one night with thomasina. so toni and cheryl have their souls trapped in a jar while abigail and thomasina use their bodies as vessels. they have lesbian sex and then abigail’s like yeah i’ll help you now. basically lesbian sex saves the world.

what do is that veronica is basically a human dialysis machine so she sucks out everyone’s powers and transfers them to cheryl who’s also a witch btw. cheryl destroys the comet but she can’t save the town completely unscathed but they were late so tabitha the guardian angel creates a pocket of time in the 50s and places riverdale there. cheryl the lesbian is canonically the most powerful character in riververse.

the final season takes place in the 50s. the guardian angel tabitha shows up and she has everyone watch the previous 6 seasons of riverdale and everyone remembers. then on the last day of school it’s revealed that jughead, betty, veronica and archie have all been in a quad relationship this whole time. congrats riverdale for being the only show that has the balls to do that btw.

in the end betty is the only one alive from her class. it’s now 2023 and she’s like 80 (because remember they went back in time and grew old from there). she wants to go back to visit riverdale with the ghost(?) of jughead who’s like a genie granting her wish i suppose. and there we get another jughead so at this point there are canonically 5 jugheads in riververse.

in the final scene betty dies and goes to heaven which we find out is actually just pop’s chock’lit shoppe in the sky. she sits on her table with jughead, veronica and archie. with the heaven version, our number of jugheads has gone up to 6.

but it doesn’t stop there. the camera pans out into the parking lot. there’s yet another jughead there. he explains to us how they will always have this and they will never escape the comics or something along these lines. this is our 7th and i believe final jughead.

there you go this is the explanation: they never really died and will likely never ever die. even if they died, it wasn’t like they were dead the whole time. it was a great finale.

there are also many things i missed like julian the cursed doll coming back as cheryl’s evil twin julian completely replacing jason blossom and jason having his only ever speaking role etc but yeah you get the point

also this isn’t even the quarter of what happens in the show so if you have any questions just drop them and i’d be happy to answer them i love talking about riverdale

every single word of this feels like it was pulled out of a bingo machine

[hamletthedane]

I know I’m joking about how Wicked Part 2 is going to be insane compared to Part 1, but it actually is so interesting when viewed as separate second part of the story -

Because hear me out - imo, the end of Act 1 sets up where the lines in the sand are for the three key characters:

Elphaba chooses to follow her morals and reject the system, even to her own isolation and destruction. Her line is her dedication to “making good.”

Glinda, her foil, openly admits that she cannot turn down the allure of the system’s power and stability, even at the sacrifice of her morals and her closest friendship. Her line is her power and popularity.

Fiyero, further foiling Glinda, is the person who would have blindly said yes to Elphaba’s offer. He is completely, unquestioningly devoted to Elphaba - even to a fault - believing that she will always be good and choose the right thing (as she “doesn’t care what others think”).* His line is his unwavering loyalty to Elphaba.

*admittedly, this is less evident at the end of Act 1, but it’s made VERY clear within the first 5min of Act 2 so I’m counting it as an Act 1 arc

But then Act 2 forces them to respect the line they’ve decided to draw in increasingly devastating ways, and eventually forces them to violate their lines or have the lines destroy them:

Elphaba’s sacrifices turn her into a complete pariah, forcing her to lose everything she had and worked for in an instant. She fights every day for what she believes in, even though she sees it’s fruitless and only leading to the destruction of everything she loves. But Elphaba stands strong even against the Wizard’s temptation of leaving behind her failing cause. However, she’s finally pushed over her edge when one of the two people who still believed in her “goodness” dies for that belief. And it drives her to throw away every good intention and dive head-first into a pursuit of power and control. She must ultimately be influenced by Glinda to once again choose self-sacrifice for the greater good, giving up her power and dreams of normality in Oz. “Now it’s up to you, for both of us”

Glinda builds great political capital and becomes one of the most important, beloved characters in the nation. But nothing is real: she’s engaged to a man who clearly doesn’t love her, she’s openly decrying a woman who she clearly still loves herself, and the system she operates in troubles her even as she benefits from it. Elphaba again tempts her to leave, and Fiyero’s clear willingness to jump ship should be an even greater temptation, but she can’t leave it behind. Not until the very end of the story does she finally recreate the Ozdust dance: acting against her own self-interest to save Elphaba and take up the fire of her cause

Fiyero, to his credit, is the only person who cannot be pushed from his line. The very first chance he gets, he follows Elphaba blindly, despite hearing all these terrible things about her. Then he willingly sacrifices himself for her and her cause, and they torture him to (a fate worse than) death for it. And even when Elphaba really does go evil, he still believes that she will ultimately choose good. His loyalty to her is not well rewarded (see: fate worse than death), but he makes his sacrifice willingly. His belief destroyed him.

What I really like about the play’s story is that from all these different starting goals and motivations, every character is forced to give up everything that is dear to them - including their fundamental selves - by the end of the story. Yet, they all three still continue to overlap and influence each other in ways that lead them all to a choice of “making good” in the end. SO excited to see that played out on screen.

[idolomantises]

What do you think of The Owl House? Like, I liked and respect Dana a lot for what she's accomplished, but I also feel like everyone is just pretending that the show doesn't have any problems, as I felt that the cast was always very poorly developed from the beginning.

I like the show, I don't love it, but i think it's pretty good. TOH has a lot of really cool world building and lore, but I also found a lot of the characters really lacking. Three of my biggest annoyances were Luz, the characters having altered personalities after one episode and the underutilization of Luz's friends.

I think Luz is actually a great protagonist, my issue is when the show really loves to tease her as this flawed and morally complicated protagonist when... she isn't? any time she does something bad, its completely accidental. It's funny when the show first came out and people negatively compared her to Mabel because Mabel actually did make a lot of selfish and careless decisions that she had to grow from.

The show also had a bizarre habit of giving characters new personalities after their first appearance, and I think Amity is the worst offender of this. Her first appearance she's the generic mean girl bully, and this is used to create conflict and for Luz to befriend Willow. But then after that, all of a sudden she's super "cold" and keeps to herself, and the characters act like she's just the popular quiet girl? and then the show has the audacity to blame a lot of the bullying Amity did on her friends and parents. I have no clue why the flashback episodes portrayed it like Amity just watched as her friends bullied Willow, SHE was a part of that! Similar issue with Hunter. Introduced as a snarky brat, and then his next appearance he's incredibly angsty and depressed so the audience could sympathize with him. Willow and the Collector were also ones that stuck out to me, but it was a change that was subtle enough that I didn't notice.

I don't know why writers do this. I like it when your characters are messy and flawed, give them unlikable traits so we can watch them slowly be better people. Don't tell me someone is flawed and then don't give them flaws and don't tell me to sympathize with a character by just giving them a new personality.

I think everyone is pretty aware of how poorly utilized Luz's friends are but there are seriously so many episodes where I was like "why aren't Willow and Guz taking Amity's place". They really feel like a studio mandate.

Also Lumity is kind of boring but honestly, I don't really think its as big of a deal as some fans think it is. Lots of cartoons have straight couples that quarrel, get together and their relationship isn't the most compelling in the world, but its still pretty cute. If anything I do wish Amity would work through her issues more than have what little personality she had disappear when she dated Luz.

With your point about how fans handle criticism, admittedly I think part of the reason why people don't want to admit the show's problem is because Disney fucked it over MASSIVELY and it feels like punching down (at least to them). I think there's a very common mentality of "is it fair to criticize a show that never really got a chance to fully find its stride?"

But I also know this is just a massive problem with shows that have queer characters in general. There's just this prevalent attitude that if you have a problem with a piece of media that also happens to have queer characters, it means you're "ungrateful" or trying to insult it on purpose. Though personally, I think TOH fans are a lot better at handling and giving criticism.

[respectthepetty]

Spare Me Your Mercy Thoughts

I have waited almost four years for this show since MDL made a placeholder for Euthanasia in early-2021, and now that it is here, I'm going to gush about all the ways I love it!

Just like a few of Dr. Sammon's other shows airing around the holidays (Manner of Death, Dead Friend Forever, and Petrichor), I'm thankful I got the first episode of Spare Me Your Mercy on Thanksgiving and the last will come on Christmas because this is the exact show I need for the holiday season since it began the entire series with Tew, the cop, having to perform euthanasia on an animal.

I grew up and still live in a rural area where cattle far outnumber the actual folks, so I fully understand euthanasia is a good death as the word implies, so I will not be struggling through the premise of this show, and I have faith the show won't either because when Tew fired the gun, the scene was peaceful.

And the show is making some pointed remarks about how things operate outside of bigger cities since Kan specifically mentioned he has about 2,500 patients. When the other officer asked the nurses if Kan had a long queue, they didn't even respond. Kan also clarified that his specialty is palliative care, so he has to monitor a wide range of long-term illnesses, so even though Tew might actually be from this place, he is now the outsider and out of his depth before he even started.

Sidenote: I cannot be mad at a nurse, even if one of them turns out bad because the way they all protect Kan from the police is the teamwork I love to see.

The red light to notify the office the doctor is seeing a patient coming on right after Kan responded to the nurse that it wasn't a murder case yet was perfection.

I already knew Kan was going to be my favorite character, but Tor is doing amazing showing the layers Kan has, as expected. Kan tells Tor he can cry and shows him kindness, but when pushed, Kan makes small digs about how people should spend the last moments of someone's life cherishing them when rudely questioned by Tew regarding the unexpected deaths knowing Tew did not get to see his mother before she died. He also made a subtle display of knowing where things were located in the house because he is in control.

The way he slid his LINE information into the conversation AFTER indirectly telling Tew he was being emotional due to his grief is why I'm excited to see another version of Manner of Death's Tan. Kan probably does like Tew but he stays focused and calculated.

He is terrifying without there being any concrete detail to pinpoint on why he is scary. Som, while describing people being possessed by evil murderous spirits, was terrified of Kan, and the transition from Som telling his story to Kan appearing at the exact moment Som was going to state what human form the evil spirits take was brilliant.

But what's even more terrifying is the treatment of the terminally ill. They are viewed as a burden, locked away, and isolated.

And Tew witnessed it. He got a glimpse of what Kan sees daily, so the show is already building up a case in defense of Kan's actions. If he is performing euthanasia, Tew could understand. He heard the goat's bell. He knew it was still alive, but he decided to end its suffering, cleanly and swiftly, which is what euthanasia is. He saw that man left behind by his family and even moved to go get him. And he was bothered when the man's daughter stated her reasoning for leaving him out there alone.

He also stopped Kan from continuing to question Som. Therefore, the true conflict has been set. Tew, whose job is to discover the truth, doesn't need it if it causes pain, but Kan's entire job is making pain manageable.

And I always want to trust a woman, but as suspicious as the director is being about everything, babygirl would be the perfect person to attempt euthanasia since the dead would end up on her table where she could claim the death was the result of the illness.

Because euthanasia is a good death.

And this ain't it.

He understands that.

But someone doesn't.

[woaza]

Scar(Arcane) x reader

Link to pt.2

Contains : Thoughts and long drabbles.

Word count : 3.4k

Warnings : None!

A/n : Wish we knew more about him so bad. I’m definitely open for discussion on him. I’m trying to understand his character with what little information we have. Lowkey wrote way too much? Especially because this is all speculation.

— We see throughout the little bits and pieces of screen time that he has, that he’s a somewhat caring person. Just rough around the edges, but I don’t think he’s this rough brute. When you first meets you he’s not going to be overly kind. Definitely the type to keep his distance until he has a reason to be around you. Like he’s sweet to Ekko, his daughter, and the other firelights. He has a lot of weight on his shoulders (someone check up on his posture asap) so it makes sense for him to be weary of strangers. His life and people he cares about are constantly on his conscious.

So It seems as if once he cares about you he really cares. He will make sure to show it. Definitely doesn’t seem like the type of man to think he’s ’too tough’ for emotions. Yes maybe a front (a very big front. Always grunting and looking angry) he puts on, but that’s not him. Once you’ve earned a place in his heart he will show it. Doing everything in his ability’s to be there for you. Especially as his S/O. He trusts you with so much, not only his heart but to be around his daughter. You’re part of his whole world, you are a big part of it. That doesn’t come easy for him but once he loves you, he loves you.

— He definitely takes things as it comes. Trying to take Day by day. He learns from everything he sees. Which is a necessity for someone in his position. Probably has had to his whole life, most people in the under-city feel that way. That’s very much the mentality he has with your relationship. Of course he thinks ahead sometimes, he’s not an air head. He and Ekko discuss their concerns with the firelights and their base. To many people? Not enough resources? He’s thought about it, but at the end of the day all he truly wants is to return by your side.

That’s another thing he can’t help but overthink. You. Where he wants to go with you, how will your relationship progress? He wants to do everything he can for you. Often worries he’s not giving you or his daughter enough. Although he dose his best to just appreciate every moment he has with you.

— A very alert person, always conscious of what’s going on around him. From when him and Ekko are on a mission and he’s helping Ekko dodge bullets to making sure his daughter dosent trip as she’s taking her first steps. He seemingly always knows what’s going on around him. Especially with his sensitive hearing. You could be in another room and let out a disappointed sigh, and he’d stick his head in the room a double check to make sure you’re okay. (All because he heard you sigh from down the hallway.)

— Goes nonverbal a lot. As his S/o you learn to understand all his grunts and shoulder rolls. Especially if your around people he dosent trust or are meeting for the first time. (With expectations.)

We saw him with the children, who all seemed to be comfortable around him. Maybe he was even watching over them. So I’d like to think he has a soft spot for children.

— Super protective of you and his daughter. His little family means everything to him. He wouldn’t do all of this if it weren’t for you two. If people even look at either of you side ways, he’s quick to send a glare back. He’s not protective in a jealousy kind of way, he definitely trusts you and is confident in your relationship. If he wasn’t or didn’t trust you to even do that. He wouldn’t have even bothered with a relationship in the first place. It’s safe to say he truly loves and trusts you if he decides to build a relationship with you.

A/n: I have sooooo much more to write about him. Trust I will write more.

[just-some-random-blogger]

you get me. you GET me. you get me so much i screamed when you laid down what you got. UGHHH. literally i hope to write more fics that will interest you because UGHHHHH you just get meeeeeeee its sooo goodddd

i also i too use girl as gender neutral sLAYYY.

I'm so happy you love the cargyll twins 🥺🫶🫶

The way we always see her as *herself*, beyond her ailment, beyond her concerns of putting up an act, both as a Hightower daughter and/or a Targaryen wife. She's just herself, without being worried that she's disappointing Otto or Daemon.

this is it. this is literally how i envisioned their dynamic to be yknow. when you commented on this once before i leapedddddd for joy it LEAPED really. you get me. you get meeee.

she's just a girl when she's with them. just a girl who loves to swim and pick flowers. did you actually sob cos of the scene with erryk? 🫂🫂🫂 but also... love that for me HAHAHAH.

(I don't even want to think about the fact that the last time she experienced something like this was probably in old town w gwayne when they were children)

dw. i like to think the sibs snuck out to go for a swim for the last time before she was married to daemon. to cheer her up yknow. alicent was there too <3

I love the way you portray Otto's relationship [...]

THISSSSSSSS. THISSSS. YOU JUST GET MEEEE T_T SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP. I literally JUST ranted about this to my friend that everyone is like 'daemon is trying' WHAT ABOUT OTTO I WROTE HIM THAT WAY TOO AND YOU JUST 😫😫😫😫😫 FUCKK YOU GETTT MEEEEEe

[...] with the reader because he's not black and white with his motives, only using his daughter to raise his House's standing. Rather, he's a complex character with layers, he's still a father - albeit a shitty one at that.

YOURE SOOOOOO ON POINT WITH EVERYTHING LITERALLYYYYYYYYYYYYY i thought it was really important to expound on this because DAEMON IS LITERALLY OTTO TO HER!!! BUT IN A WAY BETTER BECAUSE AT LEAST DAEMON IS CAPABLE OF SOME SORT OF AFFECTION. she's like 'ok my dad treats me this way, ergo my husband treating me this way is fine' !!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is so important fr fr because we accept the love we think we deserve.

He loves his daughter, in his own twisted way. How he ensures that she's not having a fit before dropping the baby bomb on her. He worries for her, knows her ticks.

💯 no notes

But it's the way he uses his love and knowledge regarding her to get his own way and to get the reaction he wants out of her that's the most twisted.

THIS!!!!!! ok im so fucking excited i just want to tell you BUT ALL WILL BE REVEALED IN THE NEXT CHAPTER IVE BEEN BUILDING THIS SHIT UP FOR SO LONG IM SO FUCKING GLAD YOU CAUGHT ON IM GOING TO FUCKING CRY.

Also, I love how we're seeing mc slowly but surely starting to stand up for herself. WE LOVE GROWTH IM SO PROUD OF HER, I COULD CRY.

<3 but also..... who's gonna tell her (not me)

Day 173822 of begging daemon to just be normal for once in his life.

ur so me fr bestie

Honestly speaking, I was one of the few that voted for reader to prioritise herself and not go after either gwayne or daemon but ohh!!! I loved loved loved this scene.

🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣💯💯💯 AS YOU SHOULD. AS YOU FUCKING SHOULD. I WAS AND AM STILL ACTUALLY VERY GAGGED THAT THAT POLL WOUND UP THAT WAY. SERIOUSLY CONSIDERING TOTALITARIANISM BECAUSE THIS DEMOCRACY AINT WORKING FOR ME CUZ WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNNN COMFORT DAD BOI DAEMON???????? YUCKKK i mean i get it but DAMNNNN?????

her whole arc with gwayne was rough. spolier? i dont plan on bringing him back at all so </3 if he comes back well 😬😬 shits about to go down

ALSO DAEMON YOU LITTLE RAT,

HAHAHHAHAHHAHAH YOU LIKE ME FR FR FR I TOO CALL HIM RAT HAHAHAHAH AND EVERYONE ELSE THAT FUCKING PISSES ME OFF

YOU HAVE NO RIGHT BEING MAD AT MY GIRL FOR NOT BEING THERE WHEN YOU DEGRADED HER THE LAST TIME AND NOT IN THE SEXY WAY!!!!

😬 yeesh fr.

Her telling him to speak what he wants and not twist his words is soooo real. YES GIRLL SET IT STRAIGHT WE DONT WANT EXTRA HEADACHES IN OUR LIVES!!

🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯 AGAIN AND AGAIN YOU GET ME YOU DONT MISSSSSSSS

I just remembered that she still thinks that night was a dream and I'm heartbroken again </3

dw. she'll find out it wasnt a dream.............. eventually

Pls daemon why do you have to choose aggression and rage every fucking time. Just be cute for once ugghhh.

UR LITERALLY ME FRRR HAHAHHAHHAHA

EVEN THE LINE YOU QUOTEDDDD i feared people might overlook it BUT YOU SAW. YOU GET ME. AND THATS MORE THAN ENOUGH.

I am so honored to have gotten your lovely reblog. i will 100% tag you my love. i'm glad you like my fic and my brain and my words. i love you so much. literally if there is something you want to see in this fic, just tell me and i'll make it happen for you fr fr.

Tormented Spirit | 7

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, smut (cunnilingus, piv, choking, degradation, slight sadism), DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: again the high valyrian is internet translated so lol. please consider leaving comments/reblogs because they really help me with the fic. might make another poll for next chapter stay tuned. | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat

Taking you to the hidden stream was simultaneously the best and worst decision Erryk's ever made in his life. The look of you was holy. His intense focus on your form was to ensure your safety, but, by the gods, it felt sinful to behold your dark hair and light fabric ebbing in the water.

He had hoped a swim would lift your spirits, just as flower picking did, but he did not know it would draw such a tempest out of you. It was as though you were reborn. You plunged into the water and shed all your inhibitions. Your voice became brighter, as did your eyes. You were flooded with more than a dozen memories of you and your twin swimming in the river near your home in Oldtown, and you recounted all of them so excitedly to Erryk.

"Oh!' you exclaim, flipping in the water to get to your feet. You point to something behind your ward, making him turn around. In that split second, you hold in your laughter and grab something from the mossy rocks. Innocently, you say, "that reminds me of something."

Erryk turns back to you, brows knit in confusion. When you you make your way towards him, he clenches his jaw and averts his gaze. The shift you were swimming in was stuck flush on your body, leaving little to his imagination. He was glad to have the foresight to bring you a change of clothes and a towel, and, my, was the pattern on the said towel so very interesting.

"What is a frogs favorite game?" you ask so suddenly.

Erryk turns to you, brows furrowing, "pardon?"

"Tell me the frogs' favorite game, ser," you repeat as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Frogs favored game?" he repeats slowly, realizing now that your expression was mockingly innocent. He hums, "I cannot say I-"

"HOPSCOTCH!"

A frog comes leaping into Erryk's face, nearly causing him to topple as he dodges it. He's so flabbergasted by the turn of events, he calls out your name in offence. He is doubly offended by your laughter. His eyes go wide as you hunch forward, leaning on your knees.

"Villain," your ward mutters, scoffing far too many times.

You can barely catch your breath. You fan your face, "frog-ive me."

Erryk's face only contorts further.

"I could not-" you gasp for air, "could not help it."

In truth, if it was any other who did such a childish thing, he'd have shoved them in the water. Alas, you appeared only more beauteous as you made him a fool.

"Forgive me," you repeat in more serious manner, "Gwayne used to scare me this way often. I wished only to know how it felt, and now..." you giggle, "I can't say I blame my brother for constantly pulling tricks on me."

He huffs and shakes his head, "well. I'm glad to have pleased you, my ever-so-kind princess."

You offer him a guilty smile, "apologies."

Erryk shakes his head, "no. Truly. I am glad to see you in such a state."

You fidget with your fingers as a shiver runs down your spine.

He is quick to unravel your towel. He places it on your shoulders, "perhaps we should go back. The sunset is nigh."

You nod, taking your change of clothes from him next.

He turns around offering you your privacy. It takes a while, but you manage to dress yourself. Once you had your shoes on, you dry your hair with your towel and take his arm, "would you please lace up my dress?"

He nods, avoiding your gaze as he feels his face burn. He quickly laces you up then you return to the Keep.

You both had been laughing, up until you made it past the castle gates, promptly being silenced by the loud shout, "PRINCESS!"

Arryk runs over, charging for his brother. Their steel plates collide as Arryk yanks his twin, "where in gods name did you take her?"

Erryk furrows his brows, "we visited a stream-"

"The Keep is in disarray!" Arryk grits his teeth, hissing under his breath, "everyone's looking for her. Everyone."

You watch the twins huddle close and bicker. As it escalates, you try try to come between them, "Arryk. I was the one who asked him to take me outside the keep."

Arryk does not hear you at first, dead set on arguing with his twin. When you repeat your words the second time however, he turns to you, face softening a fraction. He knits his brows turning back to this brother, whispering something that makes Erryk turn to you with wide eyes, "fuck."

"Why?" you look at them in concern, "what it is?"

Arryk opens his mouth, but Erryk grabs his arm and says, "wait."

"There's no other way to say it," Arryk snaps, ripping his arm out his grip.

"Say what?" you knit your brows.

Arryk turns back to you, then lowers his gaze, "the queen... the queen has passed."

Your jaw drops. Your eyes widen. Your hand immediately covers your mouth. The three of you do not speak for a prolonged moment.

You feel your stomach roll, "w-what happened?"

"She could not deliver the babe herself. The maesters... had to intervene."

Intervene? You could not possibly understand what that could mean, and you find that you do not want to. You shake your head, "and her babe? Is- is her babe well at least?"

Arryk clenches his jaw, "she sired a prince named Baelon... he apparently grows weaker by the hour."

You feel bile rise up your throat.

"Your father and your siblings have been looking for you since news broke."

You shake your head, and gather your skirts.

"As has the prince."

Your face twitches at the thought. You do not delay and make your way inside the Keep.

As you tread the halls, you think about what the queen told you just mere hours ago. There is a sharp twinge in your belly as simultaneously remember how Aemma told you to go cheer for Daemon at the tourney and realize you will never hear a word from her ever again. The thought washes over you like water on the beach, sobering but thankfully not overwhelming.

You hadn't realized you had your head bowed until you hear your name called. You still as you look up, the twins halt behind you.

Otto marches over, brows and jaw tight as ever, "where in gods name have you been?"

You straighten your back as he stops before you, "I-"

"Your wards are double," he turns to the kingsguards, "and doubly useless, it seems."

"Father," you step into his line of sight, "do relieve your rage on them."

Your father turns back to you, expression softening a fraction at your referral. You had not called him father since your argument in the maester's office. He looks at you— takes a good look at you and your sad eyes, your knit brows, your frowning lips. Your hair was darker than it was normally, and as he reaches out for it, he found it was, in fact, damp, "where have you been?"

"I..." you gulp and take a deep breath, "went swimming."

He releases your hair, tilting his head, "with whom? Gwayne has gone."

You pull your head back, "G-Gwayne's gone?"

"The tourney is over. The road is long. He has no reason to stay," Otto says.

Your brows tighten as you shake your head, "he... he didn't... wait for me?"

Otto watches your lips quiver. He watches your nose twitch. When your chest begins to visibly rise and fall, he shakes his head, "what did I tell you?"

You stare blankly at him.

He takes your hands, "what is it I always tell you?"

You clench your jaw and huff through your nostrils, "do not waste your tears on things you cannot change."

Otto rubs your knuckles as he shakes his head again. He gives the Cargyll brothers a look before walking off with you. They make sure to keep their distance before following after.

You turn to your father as he links your arm into his. You are certain, with how he cannot look at you, that he means to tell you something grave. You look front and mimic his demeanor— distant, cold. You are his daughter, face and temperance.

"You enjoyed your swim at least?" he starts, "you are calm?"

You gulp, mentally preparing yourself for what will surely come next. Your voice still falters though, "ye-s."

Otto nods, still not turning to you, "many has occurred since your marriage to Daemon. You admitted you did not consummate your marriage on your wedding night and I was deeply concerned you would fail your duties in producing heirs, especially if your husband was not interested in you."

Your jaw clenches.

"But with the apparent... change of heart your husband has shown, you should know I've had the maesters closely monitor your state."

You knit your brows at that, "you mean my affliction?"

He speaks your name slowly before continuing, "as of yesterday, they have confirmed to me that you are with child."

You whip your head to him and pull away.

Otto does not look at you with the same sense of urgency.

"W-what?"

He sees the fear on your features. He offers a solemn expression and takes your cheeks when your eyes water, "this is good. You should delight, not tremble."

You try to speak but nothing coherent comes out.

"The Queen is dead. Go to your husband and comfort him with this news."

Your mouth goes dry and your father wipes the tears that fall from your eyes. He your name softly. Your sad face looks the exact same it did when his wife died. My baby is having a baby. He frowns and pulls away.

You try to take his hand, but he slips away.

"See her off," the Hand instructs your wards.

Erryk is quick to go to your side, whereas Arryk stares at the back of Otto's head, his lips curling as he did.

"Princess," Erryk says, cautiously reaching your arm.

You turn to him with wide eyes before scratching your tears away, "I-"

"Perhaps you should sit down first."

You pull away from him before he can touch you. The action makes Erryk pull back, an unsavory sensation spreading in his mouth and belly.

"I want to- I—" you take a breath, "I need to find-" you shake your head and begin speeding down the hall.

You were nearly about to break into a sprint, and your wards had to jog up to your side to keep up with you. You don't really know where you're going, but you're getting there, fast.

"Princess, please, slow down," one says.

You can feel your breath and your pulse in your ears.

"Princess."

You find yourself in the halls near one of the gate of the keep. The only reason why you stop is because you hear the voice of your twin. Your breath catches as you lurch towards the window. Gwayne was laughing with one of the guards, already on his horse. Your brows furrow, he couldn't possibly be well enough to be riding on horseback.

You realize quickly this is your last opportunity to go be with your brother, to pull him into an embrace, to worry on him, to tell him your worries, to kiss him goodbye. You know you have to act now and swiftly, but you cannot seem to move.

Your mind is heavy as you think about how your brother is set to leave regardless of your desire to keep close; he said it himself, his place can never be at your side. Though he is the only person who've ever relied on, you know now— you rub your belly, that can no longer be the case. There is only one person you can rely on now... yourself.

It is painful to pull away from the window, but you do, clenching your hands into fists before walking away.

You don't really walk away however, because then, you're frozen in place at the sight of your husband standing a few paces away from you, "Daemon."

He stares at you wordlessly.

You walk towards him, careful as you drag your feet.

He tilts his head and clenches his jaw, "he's leaving any moment now."

You nod, "I know."

"Go to him," he says softly.

"I-"

"Go to him!" he snaps.

You stiffen at his expression. You were adept with anger but he did not look angry. You stop in your tracks, trying to make sense of his restless figure.

Daemon watches you fidget with your fingers.

"If it is your command, I shall obey."

He chuckles dryly, pacing around his spot. He wipes his mouth then charges over, stopping just in front of you. He scoffs when you do not flinch, in disbelief of your constitution. His nostrils flare, "you know my feelings towards your twin."

You slowly shrug, "then you'll be glad to know I came looking for you."

Daemon does not move.

"You know how I feel about my brother..." you mutter, "but..." you lower your gaze, "I'm coming to terms with the fact I can no longer rely on him... it will be better this way."

It takes a moment, but Daemon chuckles. When you look up and his smirk fades. Your beady eyes make it hard to find satisfaction. "So, you will not go to him?" he asks.

You stare.

"You do not want to go to him?"

Your lips part.

He raises his brows.

"I... I do."

Anger rises up his belly, but as if on cue, the sound of horses and carriages moving is heard. You clench your jaw and lower you gaze to prevent yourself from looking back at the window. The prince cannot seem to win, for he should be pleased you did not see your brother off, and yet your sadness leaves sour jealousy in his mouth— he was your husband.

The Cargyll twins look upon you both, appalled by the cruelty of the prince to keep you here as Gwayne leaves for good. Erryk in particular feels restless, unable to stop shifting and fidgeting with his scabbard.

"Shall... shall we go?" you mutter, slowly looking up.

Daemon watches you place a hand on his bicep. He responds only by following you after giving your wards a dismissive look.

The brothers turn to each other, each as unwilling as the other to leave you, but they do anyway.

Daemon is acutely aware of the warmth of your cheek against his arm as you tread down the halls. When, you arrive at your marriage chambers, Daemon opens the door and you notice the bandage wrapped around his hand. He struggles because of this. Once you're inside, you take his arm, eyes trained on his injury, "what happened to your hand?"

Daemon's eyes are fixed on the line between your brows.

"Did you break it?" you turn to him with furrowed eyes.

He pulls away slowly. He wants to know what you'd do next.

"Did you wrap it yourself? It's badly done."

He faintly snorts, "it's on my right hand."

"I'll do it for you," you say, walking towards the vanity.

Daemon follows, watching you procure scissors and vials and other things. You turn to him, motioning to the chair. He sits down, gaze fixed upon you as you take his arm again.

Your eyes are focused on undoing his wrap, "tell me if it hurts,"

His are fixed on your focused expression, "you should sit down."

"I'm fine."

"I want you to sit down," he uses his other hand to grab your wrist.

You stop and turn to him. You turn to the chair across the room but Daemon prevents you from doing so and simply spreads legs, pulling you between his thighs. Quickly, you are sat on his lap and tense look at him. He offers you his injured hand again as his other goes around you, clinging to your hip. He pulls you in, leaning his head against yours to say, "it's a cut, by the way."

You furrow your brows at his admission. You allow yourself a moment to relax before continuing your task. You find it is, in fact, a cut, deep and ugly, "did your lance splinter very badly?"

"No."

You furrow your brows deeper as you turn to him,

"This is glass."

"Glass?" you brow raise, "how did you hurt your hand with glass?"

Daemon licks his lips as he looks at yours. He shrugs, "I broke a bottle."

You pull your head back, "on accident?"

"On purpose," he tilts his head.

You huff and start cleaning his wound, "was the violence in the tourney insufficient?"

He chuckles through his nostrils, "I did not fucking win."

You smear balm on his wound. You do not reply.

It makes him clench his jaw, "and you..."

"..."

"You were not there."

You do not tear your gaze from his injury.

He grumbles, "did you even hear me?"

You lift your gaze then raise brow at him, "you did not want me there. Do you not recall how you cursed at me?"

Your gall makes anger rise up his throat.

You continue wrapping up his hand.

"Well, you were being a bitch," he snaps.

"Why?"

His brows furrow.

"Why was I being a bitch?"

"..."

You spare him a quick glace.

He pulls his head back, "... what?"

"Did I not do my duty?" you turn to him, face blank, "I followed you, congratulated you, inquired of your injuries. I submitted to your desires. Where did I err?" You ask in earnest, "what do you want from me?"

His face contorts. Now that he was faced with such an opportunity, he finds himself unable to speak. What did he want from you?

You wait for him to reply. You prepare yourself for preposterous requirements but you are met only his silence. In that moment, you remember he was just a man. Many a man enjoyed making women suffer. You gulp, thinking about your father.

Perhaps your father was lying. Perhaps he wants you to believe you are with child to get even. After all, Daemon never... finished in you. How then could you be with child?

You secure the binding on his hand, "it is finished."

Daemon does not bother looking at his hand.

"How do you feel?"

He feels a strong urge to shake you... to pull you close.

"My deepest sympathies for the death of your cousin."

He freezes. Right. The queen was dead. He lowers his gaze.

You frown and reach for his cheek. You second guess however and bring your palm to his shoulder instead, "I am here for you, my prince."

His eyes meet yours.

"I am here to care and comfort you."

He leans back, taken by the thought.

You drink in his demeanor, the softness in his eyes, the tension that falls of his shoulders. You release a breath, "if that is what you desire, speak plainly, and do not repel me. Do not ask me to leave if, in fact, you want me to stay."

His throat tightens. He feels like he is ensnared in a bear trap. He rips at his collar, "I... I have other injuries." He pushes you off and paces around as he undoes his top. It is a struggle for him, but he cannot stop or stay still, "cuts and bruises."

You watch as he fidgets and slowly walk over.

"I don't-"

"Daemon."

He stills.

You come in front of him and undo his top yourself. You drop it mindlessly, and once he is bare, he feels conscious under your scrutiny for some reason. You brush your fingers on his ribs, making goosebumps form on his skin. He can't say that that has ever happened to him before. You notice and rub his arms, eyes locked on his torso.

He feels himself getting hard.

"Did you tend to these yourself as well?" you brush over a cut on his hip.

Oh. You were still examining him. He only hums in response.

You frown, "did no maester come to your tent?"

"I..." he starts.

You circle around him, inspecting for other injuries.

"...wanted you to come to my tent."

You come to his side. He finds the frown on your face. You take a moment before saying, "you tended to your wounds well at least."

"I want you."

You nod, "I will tend to you—"

Daemon takes your nape, lowering his head to kiss your lips. It takes a moment for you to relax, and his belly burns at the sound you make when you do. Your hands come to his sides and your nails graze faintly into his flesh.

He pushes you back until your laid on the bed beneath him. His kisses trail down your skin as he works to get you naked. He kisses your shoulder, then your sternum. He makes sure to lick your breast and leave a mark on your rib before peppering kisses down your belly.

Your breath grows heavy when he lingers by your womb, sucking kisses on your skin. Your throat tightens think of your father's words again. It makes you tense, and Daemon feels it. Of course, he doesn't know about your conversation with Otto, and thinks your tension comes from your self-consciousness.

You lift your head, pulling a pillow beneath it, and look down at your husband. You reach for him, tangling your fingers in his silver hair, "Daemon."

He hums, nipping your flesh in response.

You try to sit up, "D-Daemon, I-"

He shushes you, pushing down on your hip bone. He looks up at you, muttering something in High Valyrian.

"Please, Daemon, wait-"

"Be still," he says, violet eyes hooded, "do I not take care of you?"

Your breath hitches as he sinks down.

"Do you not enjoy my mouth?"

"I- that's not-"

"Do you or do you not?"

"I... I do—"

You are not able to speak after he buries his face between your thighs. You are reduced to breathy cries and a twisting spine. Daemon, though he continues to hold you down, relishes every second of it and feasts more ardently. He sighs, securing your thighs on his shoulders, nudging his face deeper into you, his nose brushing against your pearl.

He relishes how quickly your wetness builds, and soon, he feels your arousal dribbling down his chin. He moans, nails biting crescent moons into your skin. Your belly rises and falls in sync with the crescendo of your mewls. At this point, both your hands are tangled into his hair, and your pulling and scratching only further inspires his tongue.

You call out his name, screwing your eyes shut as you throw your head back and arch your body. Quickly, your belly tightens and you sequentially dig your heels into his shoulder blades. He squeezes your thighs enough to make them bruise, and yet the pain is what pushes you into orgasm, garnering a lewd and loud sound from your mouth.

Daemon hums, lifting his face just enough to see yours as he brings you to peak. He moans at your expression, grinding his hips into the cushion, desperate for friction.

Your body trembles, unable to settle as his burning mouth persists on your molten mound. You begin to squeak and he catches the moment you open your eyes to look at him all teary. It drives him mad. With a deep inhale, he pulls away, wiping his chin before he undoes his breeches.

You relax and catch your breath, hands dropping to your sides.

Daemon watches you, your trembling legs glistening with the pleasure he's drawn out. He can feel himself throbbing in his pants. You watch as he hastily frees himself. Though your head was hazy and your body was tried, your belly burned at sight of the sticky liquid dripping down your husband's neck.

"Fuck, Daemon," you reach for his belly. You trace his defined muscles with your finger tips. He snatches your hands when he finally pushes his pants down.

You squeak when he pushes you to your side, one hand on your shoulder, another hiking your leg up by the knee. You whine as he folds you into the sheets just before sliding his hardened cock in your wet cunt.

He hisses, leaning down to your neck. His words are hot against your skin, but you understand nothing.

Whatever tenderness he had before was gone, now he was just fucking you like a rabid animal. Daemon could not help himself, he loved how supple and pliable you were, and twists you into a form that keeps you prone. When the bed begins to creak because of his thrusts, he holds you down where your neck and collarbone meet. He puts enough pressure to restrict your breathing, but not enough to choke out your pretty noises.

At some point, he decides your leg is getting in the way and pushes you flat on your chest. He then gathers you by the hip, hiking you up enough to fuck you nicely from behind.

His thrusts are more intense now. You scream into the cushion as you find your elbows. Before you can prop yourself up though, he's pinning you down by the shoulder, saying something in High Valyrian again.

"D-Daemon," you whine, left cheek smushed against your pillow. You could feel your next climax building quickly.

He responds by rubbing your clit, drawing tears and another scream out of you because of your sensitivity.

You feel yourself helplessly clenching and unclenching around him, absolutely boneless under his vigorous intrusion. You could feel your knees slipping but Daemon's grip on you would not see you move from your position. Your toes curl. Saliva drips out your open mouth.

"Māzigon va, riña," he snorts, "sepār mirrī angotan tolī." Come on, girl. Just a little bit more."

You do not understand, so you only whine out, "Daemon."

Daemon growls and rubs one side of your ass, "you're doing so good for me."

He spanks you, but that's not what makes your eyes open.

"Milk my cock with your tight cunny, come slut."

You begin to grit your teeth.

"I want to see my seed dripping down your thighs," he groans, mind unable to focus on anything but the hot, wet slapping of your skin.

It's unsurprising that you come first, as Daemon always assures you do to underscore his control and dominance over you. He yelps out a sharp fuck, nearly coming in your cunt because of how your body seizes up around him. Your orgasm overwhelming, yet your eyes water for more than this reason. His words make you aware your husband sees you nothing more as a vessel for pleasure, and your pleasure is regretfully cut short because of how sharply he pulls out, his load spraying on your already dripping labia and pubic hair.

He strokes himself a few times, feeling his cock twitch in his hand as he watches your mixed come trickle down your legs. He sighs, "fuck," then scoops the cream in two fingers, plunging it in and out your still spasming cunt.

You squeal when he finger fucks you, body unable to remain upright. You are grateful he loses interest rather quickly and crumble into the bed as he stands.

You watch him walk over to the drawer, where he then pours himself some wine. You gulp, remembering your dream from last night. It sobers you out your high. You clench your jaw and roll over to clean yourself up. You head to your vanity and wipe yourself down, grabbing your robe was you do.

Daemon, whose thirst was now quenched, turns back to you with a towel. He is confused to see you standing. He watches you flip your hair behind you, pulling it out of your robe, which you then secure around yourself. He knits his brows as he walks over, "what are you doing?"

You turn to him, sitting on the vanity chair, "getting ready for bed."

Daemon stares, and you take his prolonged silence as an indication to proceed with your nightly routine.

The prince squeezes the damp towel in his hand as he watches you brush your hair. You catch his stillness from the mirror and turn back to him, "oh."

You drop your brush and take the towel from him, "I'll help you clean up."

Normally, he enjoyed this, but right now, he can't. He is offended when you begin to pick up his clothes, so much that he scoffs, "the fuck are you doing?"

You halt midway picking up his trousers. You stand and turn to the closet, "ah. Did you want new clothes?"

He pulls his head back, no longer offended, but hurt, "you want me to leave?"

You are caught off guard by his question. You stare at him for a moment, unsure if he was serious. You could not identify his expression, so you did not know if you tell him the truth. You would not survive being berated after confessing you wanted to sleep with him. You dodge the answer altogether, "weren't you leaving anyway?"

Daemon's cheeks tense. He huffs, stepping forward, yanking his clothes out of your hands, "no."

You are bewildered by his actions, for to you, his actions are sudden. You are petrified in fear, which is why you instinctively begin to apologize, "f-forgive me, I-I-"

His nostrils flare and his jaw sets.

"I-" you motion with a hand, "- you always leave."

His clenches his jaw, "do you want me to leave?"

"I—" your throat tightens and soon you can no longer look at him. You want to beg him to stay, but you recall how you did that with your father, and your mother, and your brother— begging does not make people stay. You whisper, "I... I'm terrified."

When you lift your gaze, Daemon shirks and decided to dress. He gulps as he pulls his trousers up, turning back to you. He clenches his fist before reaching out for you.

Your heart races as he takes your hand.

"You've served me well. If you are terrified... I'll leave you."

You whimper when he pulls away, holding him tighter than he did before your hands part. Your lips quiver. He knits his brows. You shake your head, "I- I... I do not want you to go."

He is taken off guard by how you suddenly embrace him.

"Please," you beg, though you knew it would not serve you well, "stay."

He turned to stone. He cannot seem to move at all but your arms are determined to stay around him. You begin to weep against his skin and he can feel your breath grow ragged. Only then does he manage to return your affection.

He brushes your dark hair away from your face and cradles you against him.

"Daemon."

He leans into you, enough to be able to brush his cheek against yours, "kesan umbagon." I will stay.

You sniffle then sigh. After a while, you ask, "what does that mean?"

"I will stay."

You sigh again, pulling away to look at him. You offer him a sad smile, "thank you."

He frowns, wiping your tears.

When you go back to bed, you offer him space in case you've made him uncomfortable. He stares at you, awaiting your embrace. You are mere inches apart but it feels like yards and yards.

"Good night, husband," you say before turning over.

He chuckles dryly, staring at your dark hair. He turns to the ceiling, "good night."

[mythalism]

in my rook hating mindset now after that post this morning and cannot stop thinking about how they are literally the worst protagonist maybe in any story i have ever experienced JRHGKJERHGJERG. and like if you love your rook i am not saying you shouldn't. if you love your rook i am so so happy for you genuinely but you are also probably brilliant and have a huge brain because what the game gives you to build off of is so abysmal.

i literally cannot stop thinking about how insane it is that rook literally causes a double blight and worldwide catastrophe on a scale which thedas has not seen probably since the creation of the veil itself and just. experiences no remorse. and the story tries to tell us thats a good thing and makes them better than the villain/their foil. JHREGJKHERGJKHERG. HELLO?!!??!?!?! literally no one ever goes "hey maybe you shouldnt have done that" except solas and hes framed as the VILLAIN!!! WHAT!!!!!!!!!! hawke blames themselves for not putting the pieces together fast enough when a bouquet of white lilies arrived at their door? the narrative gleefully condemn anders with the immediate opportunity to kill him for his crimes. nearly every single character in origins immediately puts the entirety of the responsibility for the fifth blight on loghain's shoulders, regardless of the CLEAR SUGGESTION that the battle at ostagar could never have been won. and all of these makes sense for the world and characters!!!!! of course hawke would blame themselves for their families deaths when they were given the role of protector by leandra after malcom dies. of course the city of kirkwall is going to want anders dead for his extreme act of violence rather than start the uncomfortable process of acknowledging the beloved chantry's complicity in large scale abuse happening in the mage circles!!!! of course alistair and the warden are going to blame loghain for the blight and cailan's death!!!! it doesnt matter if they are right or wrong, it makes sense for their perspective and worldview to feel this way!!!!

have yall gotten the low approval conversations in inquisition????? solas's "Inquisitor. Tell me. How does it feel? Being you. Are you blissfully unaware or, deep inside, is some part of you banging on the walls, screaming?" cassandra getting drunk and practically spitting in your face how she regrets raising you up to such power? blackwalls' "Are you proud of yourself, of what you’ve built here? How about the lives you’ve destroyed along the way? Given much thought to those lately? Is this Inquisition all you wanted it to be? Because I’m disappointed. All I see is a gang of thugs led by a self-serving tyrant." and these SCATHING comments from those who once believed in the inquisitor enough to join their cause come from decisions that affect a fraction of the population that dies under the southern double blight. people will rip the inquisitior to fucking shreds when they fuck up. THATS THE ENTIRE POINT OF THE TRESPASSER DLC EHRGKJHERGKJHERG. like holy shit every decision carries the weight of "oh my god whos gonna hate me. who is going to die because of my choice. how is this going to come back to bite me." have we forgotten what its like to return to varric after leaving hawke in the fade and confess what we did? the call we just made? to look him in the eye and tell him that we sacrificed his best friend? WHY IS ROOK NEVER ASKED TO PARTICIPATE IN ANY OF THIS INTROSPECTION?????????? TO EVALUATE HOW THEIR DECISIONS AFFECT THOSE AROUND THEM BOTH PERSONALLY AND SOCIETY AS A WHOLE????? OH MY GODDDDD

the regret prison scene is so insane. first its insane because its solas at his best and most cunty. but secondly it makes no fucking sense even if im largely distracted by pookie being fun and villainous. solas tries desperately to play up rook's regrets during their conversations and we are supposed to believe that it was that manipulation that allowed him to swap with them in the prison. how does this actually work? blood magic? dont worry about it, kitten. but then when we get into the prison.... the only two regrets that manifest are things that just happened within the last 3 hours - your two party sacrifices. lets be clear that these are not even real sacrifices because literally all of these people volunteer to go and then argue about why they should go. this is so fucking stupid. then rook looks at the statues and says "i dont regret this because this was your choice". YEAH????? OF COURSE YOU DONT FUCKING REGRET IT WHY WOULD YOU. HELLO???? THIS WAS NOT ROOKS CHOICE THIS WAS ROOK JUST SAYING "SURE I GUESS". AND THEN THATS ENOUGH! THEY JUST LEAVE BC THEY CONQUERED THEIR REGRETS!?!?!?!?!??! WHAT!!!!!! there is no discussion of rook being responsible for the blight in the south that we find out via ooc inquisitior letter has KILLED LITERALLY EVERYONE. no suggestion that their recklessness and willingness to act WITHOUT ALL THE INFORMATION at the ritual is the reason for every single thing the evanuris do following their release.

and let me be very clear bc i know this was causing drama on twitter last week. i am not saying the double blights is rook's fault. i actually dont think it is their fault, although i do think they are stupid and reckless and shouldn't have acted so carelessly. but although rook is responsible for ghilly and edgar breaking free, rook is not responsible for the their actions following that freedom, and rook is not at fault for being put into an impossible situation (the need to stop solas's ritual) without all of the information on what the ritual was and what stopping it might incur. however, the double blight is rook's fault in the same way that the veil, the fall of the elvhen empire, elven mortality, and every demon's existence is solas's fault; which is to say, it is and it is not. solas was backed into a corner, in a desperate situation without knowledge of the potential consequences, and was forced to make a decision for the good of the world when he imprisoned the evanuris and blight with the veil. rook was backed into a corner, in a desperate situation without knowledge of the potential consequences, and was forced to make a decision for what they thought was the good of the world when they interrupted solas's ritual. but while solas feels immense guilt and responsibility for the choice he made, rook feels.... absolutely none. and the game tells us that... they're right? people should just not take accountability for anything? i will give credit where it's due here that varric's contribution to this scene is quite good and his line where rook tries to take responsibility for his death and varric says smth like "no, that was my own choice and you dont get to take that from me" is B A N G E R. WHERE WAS THAT ENERGY IN THE REST OF THIS FUCKING GAME!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?

THAT was the lesson solas needed to learn, not that his regret was wrong but that it was MISPLACED!!!!!!!!! and that is why it is mythal acknowledging that their burden is shared and not his alone is the culmination of his entire story and what finally allows him to move on. pride stands alone, wisdom seeks out the input of others to make an informed and wise decision. this is also why he leaves such breadcrumbs for the inquisitor (a high approval one, at least) because he respects their opinion and their input and their existence and the way they treat him turns him back into wisdom from pride. this is why a romanced inquisitor mentions his name being pride and how its possible that hes not even CAPABLE of changing his mind because it would be so against his nature, and he needs someone whose opinion he values to show him the way. his flaw is his SELF INFLICTED LONELINESS!!!!! NOT HIS REGRET. varric even fucking says this in some random banter you get with his ghost in the infirmary but im too lazy to go find it on my desktop. its something about how he sees attachments as a weakness rather than a strength. his pride causes him to take on responsibility that is not his, his wisdom -> pride corruption has led him to believe he is the only one capable of fixing the world's problems and he will destroy both himself and those he loves in the process. he asserts that he is just a man but is unable to stop making decisions for the world like a god.

THIS is the solas/rook foil that should have been: rook relies on their friends and that reliance is ESSENTIAL; after all, the neve/bellara and davrin/harding sacrifice is essential to win. in contrast solas refuses to rely on anyone, and this isolation makes him increasingly cruel. when he has no one to mirror the way a spirit should, he becomes Pride, too proud and too god-like. his attachments make him more human. he is terrified of depending on others and will kill them rather than risk the vulnerability of dependence after what it has done to him (mythal, felassan). he has to unlearn this avoidance and fear, he has to admit that there "could have been a better way" that someone else saw and he did not. he must learn that he does not have all the answers. he is not Pride. its NOT that rook doesnt experience regret and doesn't take accountability for mistakes while solas is trapped by his own regrets. the message we got instead is so incoherent. but it was SO CLOSE TO BEING GOOD. the bones of this are littered everywhere in both the game and in the datamined content and for some reason it just could not be brought together in a way that makes sense.

the message that rook is "right" and better for not having regrets is genuinely insane, especially when the "regrets" they have to conquer are literally just. other peoples decisions. the fact that rook has the audacity to say to solas that he could never escape the prison while they could so easily because he is trapped by his own regret as if rook is better than him is genuinely so fucking dumb it makes me want to claw my eyes out for having been forced to read it. rook sacrifices nothing and learns nothing. the sacrifices within the game belong to the characters that make them, rook does not order people to their deaths in the same way that solas or even THE INQUISITOR do. rook never is asked to grapple with the fact that they ACCIDENTALLY unleashed a double blight, no matter how good their intentions. WHY DOES NO ONE BLAME THEM FOR THIS???? regardless of if it is their fault or not, the objective truth of fault does not matter, what matters is that you make decisions and PEOPLE JUDGE YOU FOR THEM!!!!!!!!! THIS IS LIKE FOUNDATIONAL TO THESE GAMES JEHRGJKREHGJKRHG. this is what the entire game is about doing to solas. judging him. based on his choices. and the game clearly wants you to have empathy for him in the end. but its so OBVIOUS that the vessel for building up that empathy should have been ROOK EXPERIENCING THE SAME THING!!! THE SAME JUDGEMENT!!! THE SAME GROWTH!!!!! FEELING THE BURDEN OF THE WORLD ON THEIR SHOULDERS. FEELING THE DREAD OF GUILT AND SHAME AND REGRET. TRYING TO DEFEND THEIR INTENTIONS!!! I DIDNT MEAN TO I DIDNT MEAN TO IT WAS A MISTAKE!!!! LEARNING THAT THEY HAVE TO OWN UP TO IT BUT THEY ALSO HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO MOVE FORWARD!!!!!! HELLO!??!?!?!?! they BARELY even express remorse for the treviso/minrathous sacrifice, even when faced with neve/lucanis's anger they just go "a decision had to be made and i made it". well. YEAH? LIKE YEAH THATS RIGHT BUT HUMANS HAVE FEELINGS??? YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE A PERSON, NOT A BLANK SLATE VIDEO GAME PROTAGONIST!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ITS OKAY TO FEEL BAD!!!! YOU MADE A DECISION THAT RESULTED IN PEOPLE DYING. ANY HUMAN BEING WOULD FEEL BAD ABOUT THIS. ITS KIND OF FUCKING WEIRD THAT YOU DO NOT. HOW IS ROOK JUST BORN BEING OK WITH THIS. ITS SO ROBOTIC AND ARTIFICIAL LOL

rooks actions are such a clear, perfect parallel to solas putting up the veil and the guilt that haunts him afterwards that i KNOW it was intended that way and somehow it just got completely shafted. it literally feels like they did have a coherent parallel going and for some reason were forced to change directions last minute and thus we got some mish mashed barely cobbled together incoherent nonsense with clear echoes of its former self. instead rook has no flaws, makes perfect judgements at all time, has unconditional support from all of their friends who also make perfect judgements, are immune to making mistakes, and the message is its actually just really easy to not have regrets if you just choose right every time and refuse to take responsibility for anything as long as you had good intentions :D

[skyenish]

Mr. Loverman | Scarabia animatic 🐍☀️

——

Something something happy pride month

(Ramble under the cut)

Since I’m drawing Jamil and Kalim to like every romance song in existence, of course I had to draw them to mr. Lovernan; its only natural! And this song fits them so well too… the ways that Kalim talks to Jamil are so sickenly sweet and loving, they make Jamil wish he was gone. I think it’s so perfect to have that one voiceline where Kalim says Jamil’s name, but not with his usual trust or love or kindness, but rather with disbelief, fear, and confusion. That way the song can have a double meaning for them! Kalim’s sweet words make Jamil sick, but when Jamil’s plans fell apart and Kalim called out for him, confused and refusing to believe that his closest companion would betray him, it still makes Jamil’s stomach churn. I bet that sometimes Jamil wishes Kalim could just shut up.

But Jamil still cares about Kalim, still remembers when they were friends. Their relationship is complex, and though he hates it, I think he still does love and care deeply about Kalim, but all those feelings are just in a very weird and difficult place. I absolutely adore that double meaning! The ways in which Kalim talks to Jamil makes Jamil feel a lot of things, negative, positive, and he hates it. But “wishing i were gone” and “running on and on” can apply to both his negative feelings of desperation, hatred, loathing and disgust, and also those feelings that deep inside make him wish their situations were different, that things didn’t end up like this. Jamil lies a lot, also to himself, and all his feelings are so tangled and stuck (dude is super emotionally constipated and needs therapy fr). I LOVE the character development Jamil and Kalim got in book 6 and 7, because they’re slowly making their way towards building a healthier, mutual relationship, and I’m so happy for them! I will be eagerly awaiting the day their relationship is fixed, and they’re happy with themselves, eachother, and life

As always, please remember that these are just MY interpretations of and takes on these characters! If you disagree or want to share your own interpretations, thats valid, and please do share! I love to read analysises and rambles! :)

——

Drawing has been really difficult again; im busy with school and I can’t get myself motivated to draw. Social Media has also been bumming me out. I’m really sensitive, and there’s been a lot of negativity on my fyps and timelines, which has just killed my mood. Good news also though- the twst anime finally got a release date??! I have been waiting for this for YEARS, and I can’t wait to see our boys animated and for the fandom to grow and for new merch! There’ll be so much more cool fanart, new character discussions and analysises, new people who get to experience twst for the first time!

Kalim is such a cutie, he’s so fun to draw! (Until suddenly my hands decide they don’t know how to draw him anymore).

(GUYS HAVE YOU SEEN THE UPCOMING CATER CARD??? IM NOT OKAY HE LOOKS SO GOOD AFHAGSGDHJ)

[moonstrider9904]

feuilles d'automne

Steb x fem!Reader (Enforcer)

Summary: Amid your assignment to guard a fancy old folks' home in Piltover, you find yourself speechless when you stumble upon a pair of ocean eyes.

Word count: 3.9k

Tags/warnings: Mature and SFW, flirting, kissing, mild suggestivenes if you squint. Enforcer!Reader. Fluff in general, pre-relationship, first meetings, awkward situations, and I accidently created a side original character who I adore. Enjoy!

Sequel: après la bataille | My Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Thank you to everyone who's read, reblogged, and commented on après la bataille. I did not expect it to be met with so much love and support. Our precious fishman husband would be happy to know such a lovely bunch of people are his fans. You have all made writing these stories all the more fun and enjoyable 💙

The scene before you looked like it could have been taken from an Ionian painting. Rays of golden sunlight peered through the spaces between orange, red, and yellow leaves of many trees around the courtyard of the Verona old folks’ home, a peaceful place that lay in the northern outskirts of Piltover, far away from Zaun and the heart of the city where the shops and the smog could cloud the horizon.

Your assignment was simple: make sure the elderly folks who lived their days out in that home didn’t get into trouble. You couldn’t think of anything less challenging to an enforcer hungry to serve, not that you’d complain. It was work, and it was quite the lovely setting. Standing on the porch of the main building, a large mansion built in white stone with a dark blue stone tile roof, its architectural style being some fusion of classic Piltovan and mild Ionian influences in the details and finishings, you breathed in the clean, fresh air. Your eyes would continue to scan the celestial beams of light bleeding through the trees and eventually finding rest either in the grass, cobblestone paths, or even the small glistening pond at the very center of the courtyard.

On the bridge that went over the pond was an old couple who, according to what you’d heard so far, had known each other since they were children—how beautiful to spend a lifetime next to someone, and to face one’s own twilight in a place as peaceful and beautiful as that, holding the hand of the person who’d been through it all with you. It was a bittersweet thought, but such a place evoked those emotions in you, and suddenly, you felt lonely, longing and yearning for a companion. Regardless, you remained the only enforcer manning your post, forcing yourself to tear your attention away from romanticizing the peace of the scenery you beheld to keep watch of the elderly in your charge, only to be met by—surprise—no signs of trouble.

And then you heard the whistle. You weren’t particularly fond of the high-pitched sound of your own whistle, a part of your gear as an enforcer to use as a first means to dissipate any trouble you encountered, or simply to call attention to anything of note. You weren’t exactly happy by the fact that the whistle you heard at that peaceful moment, now broken, hadn’t been your own. Your knowledge up until that moment had been that you were the only enforcer on duty at the courtyard, and you sooner would have contemplated the possibility of one particularly mischievous elderly woman sneaking it away from you and blowing it to cause her equivalent of a riot in an old folks’ home, than to face the possibility of a counterpart entering the scene to aid in your assignment. When the whistle faded from your ears, you looked over your shoulder.

Only half looking forward to the encounter and with little hopes of it being transcendent, when your eyes caught even a glimpse of the whistle’s perpetrator, you lost the ability to move. Any notion of how to blink or breathe seemed to leave you, and if you were turning your neck to allow your gaze to follow his figure, you were sure it was his doing, drawing your eyes to him like a magnet, rather than your own will. You had just started to feel the air and the sunlight sting at your unblinking eyes, and then you saw that his own were now looking at you. The golden leaves and grass of autumn faded for a moment into an endless oceanic hue that could make you feel immersed in the deepest seas far off the other side of Runeterra. And for the amount of detail you picked up on during that single glance, you could have sworn you’d been staring for ages already—the way his blue-green skin contrasted with the rich blue of his uniform and even more so with the golden landscape, the way his resting face appeared so unamused that it made you fear yourself unworthy of speaking to him, the subtle lines near his jawline that you found out to be gills, and possibly the most stunning of all, the delicate frills crowning his eyes that could nearly be mistaken for the rest of the markings decorating his skin.

And for all the distance in this Vastayan enforcer, his eyes seemed to become more round as he too looked at you, with his gaze visibly softening for a moment while the frills around his eyes moved in a delicate wave before coming to a halt. Your mind replayed that scene for you countless times, and for the way you felt your chest swelling, you figured it was a miracle you weren’t yet flat on the ground.

“Hark,” you squawked, failing miserably in your first attempt to greet him.

He raised a brow and didn’t do much more for gestures, making you wish you could blend into the nearest tree trunk and stay there.

“It is time for them to return inside, is it not?” He finally spoke in a thick, elegant accent, and the rich sound of his voice dissipated your embarrassment. His voice was baritone, deep and far smoother than you could have expected—for a moment you couldn’t believe it could really be coming from him. His striking physique alone was already too much to contend with.

“Y-Yeah,” you brought yourself back to stability, fidgeting among the pouches of your belt to pull out your pocket watch and glanced at the time. 4:01 exactly—yes, it was time for them to go inside, and the telltale hand of the pocket watch tilted slightly off the 12 mark let you know you had been in awe of this man for a solid minute, and you were already done for. The pocket watch may as well have been laughing at you. But you closed it up and put it back into your pouch, exhaling with as much confidence as you could muster. “Yes, 4:00 is the cutoff, and they’re expected to be coming back in to prepare for dinner.”

“Then why aren’t they coming?” He asked, glancing out at the old folks who continued to enjoy their time in the chilly fresh air and sunlight.

“Oh, I usually opt for a different signal,” you answered, taking a step forward and inhaled all the way to your belly. “TIME’S UP, COME IN FOR DINNER!”

Your six words caught the attention of all the elderly scattered in the courtyard and, slowly but surely, they all began making their way towards the porch where you stood, chatting pleasantly amongst themselves and their aides. It was hard for you not to giggle when you looked over at your new acquaintance and saw his round eyes gazing at you, his frills standing upright at the shock of such a loud voice emerging from you.

“I’ve been doing this for a week,” you flaunted.

“I can…” he trailed off for a moment as he flinched his gaze over to the courtyard again. “Tell… though even with your lungs, you missed one.”

You looked in the direction he was gazing, and you weren’t surprised when you saw the youngest soul in the entire old folks’ home getting ready to rebel against your command. The dowager Mrs. Evelyn McCawley, or Granny Evelyn as you’d come to call her, was a short little old woman who made one think of hugs and freshly baked cookies. That day, she was wearing a bright red sweater and her hair was packed into a neat low bun, and she was looking over at you and your new companion from the other side of the pond as though wanting to get your attention. You knew her well already, but you once again wanted to giggle at how your new partner must have been puzzled by her, unaware of the sheer amount of stunts you’d already witnessed from that woman.

“You won’t take me!” Granny Evelyn shouted and turned her back on you, charging as fast as she could (and that wasn’t very a fast walk, mind you) for a tree nearby.

“Is she well?” He asked you.

You chuckled. “Yeah, she does this. The high point of Granny Evelyn’s day is the courtyard, and that’s saying something, as you can probably tell from her charming demeanor. You’ll never meet anyone who has more fun with life than her.”

There was no need to watch over the rest of the elderly walking onto the porch, as any of them who needed help were already being guided by their nurses. You and your companion kept your gaze fixed on a whooping and giggling Granny Evelyn as she took quick, small little steps toward the tree until reaching the trunk, clutching her hands onto it, and lowering herself to the ground where she lay face down on the grass, her little frame illuminated by the rays of sun that escaped through the leaves.

“Can she get up from there on her own?” Your new companion asked, his eyes widening in concern.

“Nope,” you chuckled, unbothered. “Someone better check on her.”

“I’ve got this,” he said, starting his way in Granny Evelyn’s direction.

“Oh, she’ll be fine,” you replied as you picked up on the concern in his deep, luscious voice. “She just needs help getting off the ground.”

You walked after him through the dreamy courtyard and crossed the bridge over the pond—in other circumstances, your curiosity would get the better of you, and you’d make more of a play to spend some time with him in that romantic bridge, maybe finally ask him what his name was, but flirting while Granny Evelyn lay on the grass would raise more than a few red lights in upper command. Eventually, you both reached Granny Evelyn, splattered face down on the grass in a star-like position, and her back suddenly fluttered with a giggle.

“You’ve done this four times this week,” you said to her.

“And every time, I succeed in staying out here longer!” Granny Evelyn teased, her voice muffled in the grass.

“Well, unlucky for you, now I have help,” you tilted your head, and your companion took your words as his cue to get down on his knees to aid Granny Evelyn.

“Ma’am, I’m going to help you up now, if that’s alright,” he said politely, and authority swam in his voice. Granny Evelyn picked up on the unique timbre and rich qualities that floated to her ears, and yours as well, and she jerked her head to the side in his direction to get a glimpse of him.

“Oh?” Granny Evelyn giggled. “Oh, my! Yes, of course you can help me, mister… could you be so kind as to let an old lady know your name?”

He directed a smile at Granny Evelyn, one so discreet and smooth you had to tighten your whole body to keep from sighing dreamily at the sight, or whimpering at how ridiculously gorgeous he was. It was then that you were also able to notice his ears tilted slowly downward, though this was mostly concealed by his uniform hat, and when he gave a slow blink, you picked up on the third eyelid subtly appearing in the movement.

“You may call me Steb,” he said.

“Oh, please help me up, Mr. Steb,” Granny Evelyn’s eyes sparkled at him, and as Steb helped her back up to standing, her gaze shifted between you and him. “Look at you both, so young and bright and loyal to your city.” As she continued glancing at you both, you were able to look away from Steb for long enough to notice the childlike mischief that flashed through her eyes before she fixed her gaze on him again.

“Oh, you are indeed a looker, stunning in your own right!” Granny Evelyn then called you by your name. “Isn’t Steb handsome, dearie?”

You pulled to a halt, and your wide eyes inevitably drifted over to Steb, feeling heat rushing to your cheeks with no signs of stopping or hope of discretion. His ocean blue eyes met yours, and he was also visibly caught off guard by the question, and just as Steb was opening his mouth to speak, possibly to have swiftly dismissed the whole matter and returned things to normal, you just had to open yours.

“Yeah,” the syllable left you quickly, nearly in a whimper, and immediately you felt incapable of meeting his gaze, wishing a chasm would suddenly open in the ground beneath you so that you could use it to be transported far away from there.

“I think so too!” Granny Evelyn’s chirpy cheer diffused some of the tension, and she then turned to Steb. “She’s quite lovely too, is she not?”

Though you were trying not to look at him, you noticed Steb’s calm exterior faltered for a fraction of a second before regaining his composure, and his beautiful eyes were no longer on you.

“I guess,” he answered.

Instantly, you turned your head back in his direction, and against your will, your gaze narrowed at his claim.

“You guess?” Heat rushed to your cheeks again while your brows knit together.

“Woops!” Granny Evelyn said. “Dinner time, folks! I need to be inside!”

With a sigh, you forced your frustrations away and linked your arm in Granny Evelyn’s, leading her across the courtyard and back to the porch while Steb lingered behind the two of you, carefully following your pace in silence. At the top of the porch’s stairs, a nurse waited for Evelyn, and you handed her off with a polite smile, watching as the cheeky granny disappeared into the building. In a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the embarrassment, knowing Steb was still nearby, you pondered on how much of a menace Granny Evelyn must have been as a kid if her old age kept up that amount of spunk.

Now that the elderly were inside preparing for the rest of their evening, you were off duty. You ran out of thoughts and excuses to keep your back turned on him, and as if to emphasize that, you soon heard Steb pacing up the stairs, stopping just a couple of steps below you. You turned around and looked at him, no longer enraged like before, but with your guard up and nowhere near the same amount of dewey-eyed desire you had when you first lay your gaze on him. Steb’s eyes held concern in them, and you knew he was aware of how he made you feel. He then removed his hat, and much to your dismay, he was far more attractive without it.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “Would you forgive me?”

You crossed your arms and frowned, angling your body away from him. “I guess,” you spat, quoting him.

A sigh left him, though his lips seemed to curve in the hint of a smile. “I really am sorry. I know you’d rather have heard another response, and… I would rather have said something else.”

Some part of you wanted to admit you’d hoped he’d also, in some way, audibly confirmed he found you attractive. Mundane as it seemed, you felt something like that could make your day. You angled yourself toward him again, your gaze softening as you looked at him—confound how beautiful he looked even when he apologized. Holding his hat at his side, Steb’s gaze softened too, and his round eyes held a tender gleam that somehow made him seem like he was pouting. You thought of how different this look on his face was from the one with which he first walked on the porch, blowing the whistle. At the same time, you noticed his ears slowly tilting up, expecting your answer. But an instinct within you overruled whatever it was you wanted to confess to him, and intrusive thoughts of how everything could become complicated and how embarrassed you felt came pouring in, and you quickly turned around.

“My shift is over,” was the last thing you said, and you ran away from the porch.

You didn’t even want to think of the disappointment Steb felt watching you run away, and you wouldn’t let yourself ponder on how you’d blown it with him in a second. The week that followed that incident wasn’t any easier for you. Steb made attempts to talk to you and make things right, but you wouldn’t budge, and you kept your distance. Naturally quiet as he was, it seemed he wasn’t making much of your situation anymore, and nearly one week after the unfortunate event, you were convinced nothing more of note would happen in regard to the two of you.

One day, you found yourself carrying out your courtyard duty standing alone on the bridge over the pond. Things were as lovely and peaceful in the courtyard as they always were, and you were finally able to focus on the chilly autumn air that you loved so much, as opposed to recent events. Your shift was almost over, and you were looking forward to it being calm and uneventful, but when you heard steps coming onto the bridge—steps that were far too quick and well-placed to belong to an elder—you began to suspect something else was in store.

“Will you really not talk to me again?”

When Steb’s deep, smooth voice filled your senses, you could no longer deny how much you missed him. You turned around and faced him as he cautiously walked up to you at the top of the bridge, stopping a couple paces away from you.

“It’s not like you need much talking anyway,” you replied. “I’ve seen how quiet you are. Besides, you have your whistle.”

He gave a shy chuckle, and you noticed him exhale some tension away.

“It’s a start,” he said, mostly to himself. When you didn’t utter a response, he inched closer to you and tilted his head down slightly to one side, his bright eyes catching yours. “Hey…”

The softness of his voice paired with the beauty of his eyes were a lot for you to handle, and suddenly you didn’t trust yourself to resist him anymore. Your gaze softened at him, looking up at him with a tender gleam of hope not unlike what you felt when you first met him.

“Can I start over?” Steb asked you.

The chilly air began to blow stronger, ruffling the trees around the courtyard. You replied in a soft chuckle and playfully rolled your eyes, gazing out at the courtyard filled with elderly folks enjoying the day.

“We’re supposed to be on duty,” you said.

“Yes, but I’ve seen enough of this place to know the only person we should worry about getting in trouble is sitting up on the porch having a cup of tea,” he said as his eyes looked over at Granny Evelyn, who sat on a rocking chair smiling far away from you both. “I think it’ll be fine.”

With a soft laugh, you tore your gaze from the courtyard and looked at Steb, raised a brow at him, and shook your head smiling.

“I can’t believe you,” your eyes sparkled at him. “Fine, you may start over.”

Steb smiled at you, looking more handsome than you ever thought possible, and slowly he moved closer to you, meeting your gaze with flirtatious eyes.

“Hi,” was all he needed to say for you to know you were done for.

You laughed, bewildered at the power this Vastaya held over you, and at the fact that you had tried to push him away when it was clear that what was happening at that moment was all you’d wanted.

“Hi,” you giggled in return, feeling your cheeks getting hot.

A strong gust of wind powered through your silhouettes, blowing your uniform hat right off your head for it to land on the wooden floor of the bridge. You and Steb both let out small exclamations of surprise, and he bent over to grab your hat for you. When he stood up straight and held it out for you to take, you noticed that the gust of wind had blown a single, dry, golden leaf onto Steb’s shoulder. You looked up at him, loving how he still stood out incredibly in that autumn landscape, and you both smiled softly at each other. Before you took your hat, you reached your hand up to Steb’s shoulder and you gently took the leaf that had landed on him, casting it aside as delicately as it had fallen. But after the leaf was gone, your hand lingered on his shoulder, and tension built between you as you both remained there. Your smile had faded into the nerves that came with being so close to him in such a lovely setting, but it returned to your lips when Steb smiled back at you and his gaze softened in adoration.

You stopped thinking and let your hands guide you through the moment. You pressed your palm onto his shoulder and let it travel to the crook of his neck, and you pulled Steb down closer to you, perking on your toes, and you shyly kissed his lips. You basked in how smooth his skin was under your fingertips and how warm he was, and before you exploded into nerves, you heard your hat dropping onto the bridge floor, feeling both of Steb’s hands cupping your face, gently yet firmly, as he kissed you back. The shyness fled from you, and you kissed Steb more securely when you felt him reciprocate, sliding your arms around his shoulders and pressing your body to him—you didn’t give a Yordle’s mitten if anyone was watching or muttering about you, or if you were on duty. All that mattered was that, as you kissed him, you felt Steb smiling into your lips and his hands traveling down around your waist.

Your mind exploded in fireworks the longer you two kissed, and your thoughts jumped from possibility to possibility; all the firsts you could have with him, all the places you could hold his hand and all the ways you could explore his body and all the markings on his skin, but you knew that would come later, and at the moment you could delight fully in the feeling of him kissing you. Yes, you were absolutely smitten, and you were looking forward to much, much more of that.

From the porch, you and Steb were being watched with a warm smile. Evelyn McCawley had seen a lot in her lifetime, and each experience had taught her to view life with the wonder a child would have. Her eyes could no longer spot a butterfly from afar, but she could see you and Steb finally getting along all too well, and a smile lit her features in hope and subtle heartbreak. Seeing the two of you in uniform sharing a loving moment reminded her of when she was a young nurse charmed by a handsome soldier—she saw her and her beloved in the two of you. And with that same smile, Granny Evelyn pulled a wrinkled picture from the pocket of her purple knit sweater, gazing at the eyes that looked upon her from beyond.

“Young love, eh, Rafe?” She chuckled. “I hope those two have what you and I had, and I sure hope they have the chance to see each other through to the end. I do miss you, dearie.”

Granny Evelyn then put the picture back in the pocket over her heart, and she stood up from her chair, setting her tea on the little table beside it, pondering on what mischief she could possibly do now to bring you and Steb ever closer.

If you like this, please reblog too! Thank you for reading!

Read part II here >

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows 7

Warnings: non/dubcon, clashing personalities, exclusion, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: moody boy Curtis Everett x bubbly, plus-size reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You sit at your desk, shaken as the sound of the mug shattering repeats in your head. You can smell the dark roast as you stare fuzzily at your monitor. You hadn’t even taken the coffee you brewed. You can see it in your mind, forgotten on the counter, lonely, going cold. 

You have no thirst for the maple shortbread roast. You rub your fingers together, the feeling of the shards, the incessant jitter that won’t leave you. You tried to play it cool but now you’re really scared. 

You open your Teams and type out a message to your manager. You’re spending half a sick day and going home. Her curt response betrays her agitation. She’s not impressed but you don’t care. Work isn’t as important as taking care of yourself. 

You shut down and pack up your bag. You slide your chair under your desk and keep your head down as you head for the stairs. You avoid the elevators to evade any notice. It feels like admitting defeat but you’re not sure there’s any victory to be had with that man. 

As you exit the building, the weight lifts from your chest and the slouch eases in your shoulders. Maybe you can ask to change desks. That would be a start. You can get a bigger thermos and bring lots of coffee so you never need to venture into the breakroom. This could work. 

Oh boy. You think you’re going to have to quit. You really don’t want to, you feel like you’ve barely begun. And he isn’t the only person there, it isn’t his company, so why should you have to run away? 

Dana can be… decent and there’s that woman with the vintage blouse you met in the breakroom. Somehow, you never managed to spill her coveted hot chocolates in your carelessness. It’s as if the universe put you on the path of this angry man, but why? 

Screw the universe. It can’t tell you how to live. You’ve never really worried about fitting into its machinations and you won’t start now. 

You don’t want to go home right away. You veer around and head down to the cafe a few blocks down. It’s a bit of a trek but you’ve heard good things. You go inside and wait your turn, ordering an iced fruity tea and a lemon scone. 

As you turn to go, you see that woman through the window. The one from the office in her thrifted clothes. You love her style. A braid red belt with brown tweed pants and a bell sleeved button up. She doesn’t see you wave as she turns away and carries on, earbuds tucked into her ears. 

You claim a table by the window and as you unwrap your scone, a man marches by, raising your hackles as you see the determination in his step. He heads in the same direction as that woman, intent and unbothered by his surroundings. You’ve seen him too, he works in one of the fancy offices. 

You pick at the scone and nibble on the corner before sliding it away again. You’re still addled by your breakroom run-in. You thought this would be a distraction. Or hoped it would. 

You leave, unsatisfied. Home it is. Alone, but safe. 

You take the bus halfway then walk a few blocks to your apartment. As you get inside, you’re restless. You do your best to settle in.  

Gaming doesn’t calm you down, even as you go around to say hello to your villagers. You shut that off and grab your half-done crochet project but the hippo is too much of a challenge to ease your nerves. So you get up and run yourself a hot bath. 

You undress with the door open. You bask in your newfound solace. It took you a while to get out of your parents’ place but now you’re on your own, you don’t have to worry. 

You slip into the water with a sigh. A playlist drones from your phone on the counter and you mix in scented epsom salts. You start to feel a bit bed as you recline and close your eyes. You stay like that until the water is lukewarm. 

You get out and pull on your fluff rope with the pink cheetah print. You feel renewed and ready to relax. Just don’t think about the inevitable. Tomorrow you’ll have to be back in office. 

You shuffle around you apartment lazily and turn on the television. You curl up in the corner of the couch as Sailor Moon transforms in the intro sequence. The music fills your small space. You’re comforted by the childhood favourite. 

You ease into the cushions and feel yourself starting to doze. You’d still be at work if you didn’t take the half-day. You shouldn’t be falling asleep already but you can’t resist the nap. 

You close your eyes and something scratches down ear canal. Some sort of friction. You don’t pay it much mind. There’s always noise from the hallway or the street. But it happens again and again, then you feel something. 

You sit up in fright and turn to the figure sat next to you. You’re so stunned, you can’t find your voice to scream. You take a deep breath and Curtis raises his index fingers. 

“If you scream, I’m going to have be bad,” he warns. “So let’s not do that.” 

“How’d you get in here?” 

He tilts his head as he watches the television. You peek over. You like this episode too—but that’s not the point! 

“Curtis--” 

He hushes you and sits back. “You don’t make it hard to follow you. You’re so oblivious, you have no clue what’s going on right in front of your face.” 

“I...” 

He shushes you again and looks at you. “You’re going to get real hurt one of these days.” He crosses his arms and puts his head straight again. “It’s up to you. Is today that day?” 

[focusonkayjay]

Wildly Wealthy Koreans (2); inspired by Crazy Rich Asians

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: photographer/ filmmaker! jungkook, rich girl/ fashion designer! reader, established relationship, angst, fluff, potential smut

Word Count: 6.6k+

Series summary: When you invite your boyfriend, Jungkook, to accompany you to your brother's wedding in your hometown, Daegu, he’s overjoyed, eager to meet your family and experience a side of your life you’ve never shared with him. However, once he uncovers the truth about who you really are, he’s unable to grasp the full extent of your reality. The situation becomes even more complicated when a certain someone makes him feel profoundly unwelcome, leaving him to question not only your world, but also his place in it.

Disclaimer: This series is heavily inspired by the movie Crazy Rich Asians, with the storyline closely following the original film's plot. However, I wanted to reimagine it as a fanfiction, where Jungkook and OC take center stage as the main protagonists. While I’ve kept the core elements and themes from the movie, I’ve added my own touches here and there, such as altering certain character dynamics and incorporating a few original settings. Some scenes are directly inspired by the movie, and I’ve worked to recreate them in a way that it hopefully resonates with the fans of the movie. Hope you enjoy!!

Chapter Warnings: talks about culture, your mom is a meanie

A/N: literally fighting the urge to rewatch crazy rich asians right now omg. anyways, i'm having so much fun writing this because i love explaining every little thing in detail, and this series gives me so many opportunities to do so. let me know your thoughts <3

part 2

“I can’t believe this.” Jungkook breathes out, sinking into the plush comfort of Yoongi’s ridiculously soft mattress. He runs a hand through his hair, his mind racing as he tries to process everything he had found out during the eventful lunch he just had with Yoongi's family.

It feels like the ground beneath him has shifted. You’re not exactly who he thought you were. Not that he had preconceived notions about your life, but this? This was on an entirely different level. “I wonder why she never told me.” he mutters, more to himself than anyone else.

Yoongi chuckles from across the room as he pulls back the heavy, luxurious curtains, flooding the space with the warm afternoon light. His bedroom is just as opulent as the rest of the mansion... floor-to-ceiling windows, sleek modern furniture, and an aesthetic that screams understated wealth.

“I mean… maybe she didn’t want to show off.” Yoongi suggests casually, as if being from an ultra-rich family is something people hide every day. “Yeah… like you.” Jungkook points out, sitting up and gesturing around the room.

His eyes narrow as they take in every detail. “You never told me you were this...” he pauses, glancing pointedly at the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the antique show piece on the side table, and the impossibly soft bedding beneath him “...rich.”

Yoongi smirks as he leans against the window frame, arms crossed. “What can I say? I’m humble like that.”

Jungkook groans, leaning back on the mattress as he throws an arm over his face. “My whole life is a lie. You’re telling me I’ve been surrounded by literal multimillionaires this whole time and I didn’t have a single clue?” His voice is half-frustrated, half-bewildered, and the wide-eyed expression on his face makes Yoongi snort with laughter.

“Come on, you’re being dramatic.” Yoongi teases, his tone light but with a knowing smirk. It’s almost laughable coming from him... the same guy who was practically losing his mind over you back in the dining room. “It’s really not that big of a deal.” he adds casually, as if he hadn’t been the one freaking out just moments ago.

“Not that big of a deal?” Jungkook echoes, sitting up with an incredulous look. “You live in a mansion. You drive a car that costs more than my entire apartment building. And now I find out my girlfriend is a part of one of the most powerful families in the country?” He shakes his head, rubbing his temples. “You’re right. Totally normal. Nothing to see here.”

Yoongi grins, clearly entertained by his friend’s over-the-top reaction. “You’re handling this surprisingly well.” he jokes. Jungkook shoots him a look. “I’m on the verge of an existential crisis, and you’re laughing at me.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Yoongi says with a shrug, making Jungkook groan again.

“And now I can’t stop thinking about that damn tea party ceremony thing I have to go to, this evening.” Jungkook sighs, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

His fingers thread through his hair in frustration. “I don’t know what to expect after everything I’ve learned today.” He breathes out heavily, as though the weight of the world is pressing down on his shoulders.

“Don’t stress it.” Yoongi replies, his tone infuriatingly nonchalant as he leans back in his chair. He looks completely at ease, like Jungkook hadn’t just had his world turned upside down in the span of a few minutes.

Jungkook stares at him, exasperated. “How can I not? I don’t know if I’ll even be able to fit in. Everyone there will probably take one look at me and smell the filth on me. They’ll know right away that I’m a completely different breed compared to them.” he huffs, gesturing dramatically to make his point.

Yoongi stifles a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” Jungkook counters, his tone sharp. “I’m just some regular guy. I grew up in a tiny apartment with my mom, eating instant ramen and working part-time jobs to get by. These people... your people... live in literal mansions and probably eat gold-flaked caviar for breakfast or something.” he rambles.

Yoongi finally bursts out laughing, the sound making Jungkook scowl even more. “Gold-flaked caviar? That’s a bit too much, even for us.” Yoongi teases, his voice dripping with amusement. “But seriously, You’re overthinking it.”

Jungkook shakes his head, his insecurities bubbling to the surface. “You don’t get it. I’m not like them. I don’t know the rules, or how to act, or what to say or how... how to dress. I’ll stick out like a sore thumb.” he says, covering his face as the stress surges through his veins.

"Well, since you brought it up... do you have an outfit for the evening?" Yoongi questions. Jungkook shrugs, a bit unsure. “Well, I have this simple suit. It’s... it's this black-”

“No way.” Yoongi interrupts, shaking his head in disbelief. “There’s no way you’re wearing a simple black suit to this thing.”

Jungkook blinks, taken aback. “What’s wrong with a simple black suit?” he asks, genuinely perplexed.

Yoongi clicks his tongue like a disappointed teacher, standing up from his seat. “This won’t do. Follow me.” he says briskly, already turning on his heels. Jungkook barely has time to react before Yoongi is leading him down the hall and into what can only be described as a dream closet.

The room is enormous, with racks of clothing neatly arranged by color and style. Spotlights illuminate the array of designer outfits, from tailored suits to silk shirts and everything in between.

Shelves line the walls, displaying polished leather shoes, neatly folded ties, and an impressive collection of watches. A faint, luxurious scent lingers in the air, and Jungkook can’t help but gape at the sheer extravagance of it all.

“Okay, let’s see.” Yoongi mutters, his sharp eyes scanning the racks like a man on a mission. He pulls out a prussian blue short coat with clean, sharp lines and a tailored fit. The material has a subtle texture that exudes luxury without being flashy. “This is so so sleek and I think this should be perfect for tonight.” he muses.

“Blue?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “You think that’s the move?”

Yoongi smirks. “I don't think... I know it is.” He sets the coat aside and grabs a light blue silky dress shirt, its soft sheen adding just the right amount of elegance. “This will add a little softness. Plus, it’s classy as hell.” he explains.

Before Jungkook can protest, Yoongi moves to another section, pulling out matching prussian blue trousers. “These match the coat...” he softly says, more to himself.

Yoongi then crouches down to the shoe shelf, grabbing a pair of sleek black loafers “And these... for your feet.” He stands back up and makes his way to the display of accessories.

“We’ll keep it simple...” he murmurs, looking around and a few seconds later, he picks out a delicate diamond brooch shaped like a flower. “This is gonna add just the right amount of sophistication without being too much.” he smiles, proud of himself for the fashion choices he's making.

“Try it on.” Yoongi orders, shoving the outfit into Jungkook’s arms.

Jungkook hesitates, still overwhelmed by how much thought Yoongi has put into this. “Isn’t this… a bit too much for a tea... party?”

“Not for this one.” Yoongi says matter-of-factly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “Trust me, this is how you blend in while still making a statement.. you're gonna thank me for this.”

A few minutes later, Jungkook emerges from the dressing area, and Yoongi’s face lights up in approval, completely satisfied with his work.

The prussian blue coat fits Jungkook perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders, while the silky light blue shirt adds a sophisticated edge. The trousers and polished loafers complete the look, and the diamond brooch glimmers subtly, tying everything together seamlessly. (jungkook's full outfit if u want to visualize it)

Yoongi whistles low, nodding. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. You look insanely good.” he claps. Jungkook glances at himself in the mirror, stunned by the transformation. “I look… fancy.” he mutters, running a hand down the soft fabric of the coat.

Yoongi smirks. “You look expensive. And that’s exactly the point.”

//

As the clock strikes 5, Jungkook’s phone buzzes with a message from you. It’s the address of the place he’s supposed to go. The pit in his stomach deepens as he reads it... nerves gnawing at him now that the event feels real and imminent.

He stands in Yoongi’s room, fidgeting with the cuffs of the silky dress shirt he's wearing, while Yoongi carefully styles his hair. After a few minutes of fussing, Yoongi steps back, his expression satisfied. “There.... perfect.” he quips with a smirk.

Jungkook sighs, taking in his reflection. He looks different... polished, refined, like someone who owns a portfolio full of stocks and leaves enormous tips at fancy restaurants without a second thought. He tilts his head, still processing the transformation.

“Let’s head out?” Yoongi suggests, and though still hesitant, Jungkook nods, grabbing his phone and wallet before following Yoongi downstairs.

When they step outside, the familiar luxury of Yoongi's estate greets him and he instantly notices that this time, Yoongi has opted for a different car... a sleek, deep-red Ferrari Roma. The polished exterior gleams under the fading daylight, and Jungkook can’t help but gawk. "This car looks like it belongs in a museum." he mutters, still trying to process Yoongi’s absurdly lavish lifestyle.

The same guard from earlier appears, carrying Jungkook’s luggage, which he efficiently loads into the the car's surprisingly spacious trunk. Yoongi slides into the driver’s seat, revving the engine, and the low, throaty hum fills the air.

Jungkook gets into the passenger seat, muttering under his breath, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

Yoongi chuckles as he adjusts the rearview mirror. “You’re supposed to say, ‘Thank you, Yoongi, for giving me a taste of luxury.’” he jokes.

The ride to the address you’ve shared isn’t long, but with each passing kilometer, Jungkook grows more apprehensive. The city’s bustling streets fade away, replaced by quieter, tree-lined roads. And as the sun finally sets, the atmosphere feels secluded and serene, the kind of area reserved for only the wealthiest of the wealthy.

By the time they approach the destination, it’s almost completely dark, and the surroundings are cloaked in shadow. Eventually, the headlights illuminate a massive iron gate adorned with intricate designs, the kind that looks custom-made and costs more than an average car.

Tall stone pillars flank the gate, with elegant golden lettering engraved on plaques— 'The Kims' etched prominently.

The GPS pings, signaling they’ve arrived. Before Jungkook can say a word, the gates swing open automatically, revealing a long, winding driveway lined with towering, perfectly trimmed trees. A soft glow from decorative lanterns illuminates the path, casting an ethereal ambiance over the grounds.

“Is this a driveway or a runway?” Jungkook mutters as the car rolls forward. The sheer length of the driveway seems surreal and it takes them almost five minutes to reach the end.

When they finally arrive, Yoongi slams on the brakes, his jaw dropping. “Holy fuck…” he breathes, gripping the steering wheel tightly. His voice is barely above a whisper as he asks, “Are you seeing this?”

Jungkook stares, utterly gobsmacked. Before them stands an enormous mansion, more like a palace than a home. The architecture is a seamless blend of modern elegance and classic grandeur.

A sprawling facade of pristine white marble reflects the soft golden lights strategically placed along the perimeter. Massive glass windows stretch across the mansion, framed by intricate black ironwork.

A fountain stands proudly in the center of the circular driveway, water cascading gracefully in the glow of ambient lights. The front doors are enormous, crafted from dark wood and adorned with golden handles that look like they belong in a royal palace.

Behind the mansion, faint silhouettes of sprawling gardens and additional wings of the estate hint at just how vast this property is. Jungkook feels like he’s stepped into a movie. His voice is barely audible as he murmurs. “This… This is where Y/N lives?”

“Dude...” Yoongi says, still staring at the mansion. “I told you my place would be nothing compared to this.”

As Yoongi is still marveling at the house, his hands gripping the steering wheel like he’s afraid to blink and miss something, Jungkook’s gaze drifts beyond the car's window.

Near the expansive lawn and the grand entrance of the mansion, groups of people mingle, their laughter and chatter carried on the soft evening breeze. It’s all so overwhelming, but then his eyes land on you, and suddenly, the world seems to still.

You’re standing by the grand double doors, chatting with two women who appear equally elegant. But his focus is entirely on you. You’re dressed in a stunning emerald green gown that hugs your figure just right.

The strapless design accentuates your shoulders and collarbones, and the gown flows down in soft, silky waves, brushing against the floor with every slight movement. A string of delicate pearls adorns your chest, their soft sheen catching the light with each turn of your head.

Your hair is styled in a way that frames your face beautifully, soft tendrils brushing against your cheeks. The golden glow of the mansion’s lights reflects in your eyes, making them look like the night sky dotted with stars.

You smile at something one of the girls says, and that smile... it’s the kind that makes Jungkook’s heart skip a beat, the kind that could light up even the darkest of nights.

As he sits there in Yoongi’s car, rooted to his seat, he can’t help but take in your beauty. The way you carry yourself with such grace and confidence, as though you were born to belong in a setting as grand as this. Jungkook feels his throat tighten. How? How on earth had someone like him... ordinary, flawed, and a complete mess half the time, ever managed to end up with someone like you?

You’re perfect, he thinks, in every sense of the word. From the sparkle in your eyes to the way your laughter carries, soft and melodic, across the air. He feels a pang of disbelief, as though at any moment someone might tap him on the shoulder and tell him it’s all been a dream.

His hand clenches slightly against his knee as he leans back into the seat, still staring at you, unable to look away.

And like magic, your eyes meet his from across the expanse. It’s as though the crowd and the grandeur of the mansion fade into nothing, leaving just the two of you in your own world.

Your expression instantly lights up, a radiant smile spreading across your face. You excuse yourself from the two women without the slightest bit of hesitation, your steps purposeful as you make your way towards the car parked by the grand fountain.

“Oh my god, she’s coming… she’s coming here.” Jungkook mutters under his breath, panic and exhilaration twisting together in his chest. His words snap Yoongi out of his trance, but before Yoongi can even react, Jungkook is already out of the car.

“Baby... you made it.... Hi.” you say, your voice sweet and filled with warmth as you approach him. Without a second thought, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. The faint scent of your perfume envelops him, soft and comforting, and for a moment, he’s too stunned to move.

Just seconds ago, Jungkook’s mind had been a mixture of nerves and doubts, the unfamiliar surroundings and the weight of everything he’d learned earlier still pressing on him. But now, as he feels your arms around him and the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his chest, all of that melts away.

He exhales a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, his arms instinctively wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer. In your embrace, the humoungous mansion, the status of those around him, and the intimidating luxury that surrounded him, no longer mattered. None of it.

Right here, right now, he feels safe. He feels like he belongs... not with the wealth, not with the prestige, but with you. It’s in the way your presence calms his racing heart, in the way your touch grounds him. With you, it feels like home.

And in that moment, he knows. No matter how out of place he might feel in this world of opulence, as long as he has you, he’ll always belong.

“Ahem.” Yoongi clears his throat, a playful glint in his eyes as he watches the two of you pull away from the hug. He stands by the side of the car, arms casually crossed, his lips curling into a teasing smirk. His gaze flicks between you and Jungkook, his eyebrows wiggling as if to silently ask... Are you going to introduce me, or what?

Jungkook’s eyes travel to Yoongi, and the subtle shift in his expression tells Yoongi that he’s caught on to the unspoken request. He gives a small, sheepish chuckle, the tension that had lingered before, now dissipating.

“Babe, this is Yoongi.” he says, his voice soft but genuine as he reaches out to encircle your waist again, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of your back. He turns his head to Yoongi with a grin. “And Yoongi… this is Y/n.”

You look at Yoongi, a warm and open smile immediately spreading across your face. You’ve only heard bits and pieces of stories about him from Jungkook, but you already have a good sense of his nature. “Yoongi, hi!” you greet him, your voice bubbling with kindness.

“Thank you so much for bringing him. I'm a little mad at you for stealing him away from me on his very first day here...” you tease, your eyes sparkling as you glance up at Jungkook. “But I still get it. I guess I’ll forgive you... only this time, though.”

Yoongi chuckles, genuinely amused by your playfulness. He raises his arms, giving a mock bow, and offers a teasing apology. “I apologize. But thank you for letting him come meet me. It was really nice catching up after all these years." he sincerely says.

You smile at the sentiment, inching closer to Jungkook as you move past the brief formality. The three of you stand for a moment, the evening breeze and the sound of the water splashing in the fountain, wrapping around you.

The conversation feels comfortable, like a warm, shared space where everyone is still figuring each other out but already enjoying the connections being made.

Then, with a sudden idea that seems to come naturally to you, you look up at Yoongi with a soft but insistent smile. “Why don’t you join us tonight? It’ll be fun.” you suggest, your tone light but sincere.

Yoongi looks like he’s about to refuse, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he opens his mouth to protest. “Oh, my god, no. It’s alright, really-”

You cut him off gently, your voice light with the promise of something easy and enjoyable. “Oh, come on. It’ll be amazing. Besides you're already here and I would feel like a horrible person if I just sent you away without an invitation. Plus, I'm pretty sure you'll find some you know in there.. so please, do come.”

Yoongi hesitates again, the pull of his curiosity and the warmth of your invitation winning him over. But deep down, he knows he’d be stupid to refuse. Why the hell wouldn’t he want to spend his evening at the Kim estate, soaking in the luxury and splendor?

“Well... if you insist…” Yoongi begins, finally giving in with a playful smirk. “I’d be honored to stay.”

Jungkook watches the exchange with a soft grin on his lips, his heart swelling with a quiet affection for you. In moments like these, it’s impossible not to marvel at how effortlessly you make everyone feel at ease.

Your ability to connect with anyone, to put people at ease with your calm demeanor and genuine interest, is one of the things he admires the most about you.

//

As the three of you enter the mansion, Jungkook’s eyes immediately widen at the sheer gloriousness of the place. The space is expansive, and the walls are adorned with elegant artwork, framed portraits, and intricate carvings that speak of a long history of wealth and taste.

The air smells faintly of fresh flowers and something warm, like vanilla, and the soft lighting gives the house an intimate yet sophisticated feel. He can’t help but be in awe, his footsteps slowing as he takes in the magnificent surroundings. From the grand chandeliers overhead to the tastefully arranged furniture, every corner is meticulously curated.

Suddenly, Yoongi is distracted by a familiar face in the crowd... a friend of his, evidently, who bumps into him as they walk into the entryway. "Yooooo...Yoongi, What are you doing here, dude?" the man beams, instantly dapping him up.

Yoongi’s expression shifts from casual to excited as he greets the man, and soon enough, they’re deep in conversation, his attention completely absorbed by the exchange.

Seizing the moment, you lean over to Jungkook and softly whisper. “Come on, let's leave Yoongi to catch up with his friend." you simply say.

Without giving him an opportunity to agree or protest, you take Jungkook’s hand and lead him up the grand staircase, the polished wooden steps creaking slightly beneath your heels.

The second floor seems even quieter than the first, with only the distant murmur of conversation from the living room and the lawn below. The hallway is empty, the walls lined with family portraits and antique furniture that speaks of both elegance and history.

As you walk down the long corridor, Jungkook follows quietly, his hand wrapped around yours, the warmth of your touch grounding him.

Glancing over your shoulder, you catch his gaze and flash him a playful, flirty smile. Then, with effortless grace, you turn to face him, continuing to walk backwards, your eyes never leaving his, a teasing glint dancing in them.

A comfortable silence settles between you two as your eyes take him in. He looks undeniably charming. The way the outfit fits him, accentuating his sharp features, makes your heart flutter in a way you didn’t expect.

Even though you’ve only been apart for a few hours, you’ve missed him deeply. Unable to find the right words, you let your gaze speak for you, your eyes lingering on him with warmth and admiration, as if memorizing every detail.

“Did I tell you how fucking gorgeous you look tonight?” Jungkook’s voice cuts through the stillness, and you can't help but giggle at the awe in his expression.

His eyes glint with admiration, the kind of look that makes your heart flutter in your chest. He’s not hiding his feelings, and it’s evident from the way he glances at you, his gaze tracing your figure as if trying to etch every detail into his mind.

You feel a spark ignite inside you at his words, but you manage a smile, keeping your composure as you look at him. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” you tease, your steps slowing as he steps closer, releasing your fingers from his hold as he places his hands on your waist, halting you in your tracks.

The corridor feels quieter now, the faint hum of distant chatter fading into the background as his presence fills the space. He pulls you closer, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “I missed you.” he murmurs, his voice low and earnest, his gaze flickering to your lips. And as though it’s second nature, he leans in, capturing your lips in a soft yet passionate kiss.

A smile curls on your lips as you kiss him back, the warmth of the moment sending a flurry of butterflies through you. You can’t understand how he always manages to have this effect on you, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

“I missed you too.” you whisper as he pulls away, your eyes catching the faint shimmer of your lip gloss now smudged on his lips.

Despite the intimate moment you’ve just shared, you can’t help but laugh softly. He tilts his head in slight confusion, his brow arching adorably. Without saying a word, you take his hand again, leading him forward down the corridor.

“Come on, I want to show you my room.” you say, your voice light and eager as you guide him further into the corridor.

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise in eagerness as you lead him further down the corridor, past several closed doors. The silence around you both feels almost comforting, as if this is a moment just for the two of you... away from the grandiose of the house and the people downstairs. You’re aware of the weight of the space around you, but in this moment, you’re only aware of him.

“I’ve lived in this house ever since I was a baby...” you continue, your voice quiet but soft, allowing a sense of nostalgia to seep in. “After moving out to New York, the one thing I missed the most was my room.” You look up at him, your smile deepening. “So... I really just... wanted to show it to you.”

Jungkook seems struck by your words, his curiosity piqued, but you don’t elaborate further. You can tell he’s fascinated by the house... he’s seen enough of it already to know it’s not just a regular mansion, but you’re careful not to make him feel overwhelmed.

You don’t want him to think you’re bragging or showing off, not when it comes to your family’s history or the house that’s been passed down for generations. It’s always been a part of you, but you’ve always hated the idea of people seeing you through the lens of privilege.

You’ve never been the type to flaunt it, but the quiet discomfort always lingers. The fear that people will think you’re trying to distance yourself from others or act like you’re somehow above them. It’s why you’ve never told Jungkook much about your background, not in the way some people might expect. You didn’t want him to misunderstand.

As you round a corner and approach your door, Jungkook glances at you, sensing that there’s something more beneath the surface of your words. He opens his mouth to ask, but you cut him off gently with a soft smile, knowing he’ll get to know everything in time.

For now, all that matters is this moment, and as you unlock the door to your room, you can’t help but feel an odd sense of calm. You’ve never shared this part of yourself with anyone before... not like this. But with him, it feels like you’re finally letting him see all of you.

As you switch the lights on, a soft glow fills the room, instantly giving it a warm, inviting ambiance. Jungkook takes a step inside, his gaze sweeping over the delicate details that make up the space. The walls are painted in a blush pink hue, accentuated by crown molding in a creamy white tone.

The furniture matches the aesthetic, with an elegant white queen sized bed and a quilted headboard adorned with tiny, pearl-like studs.

There’s a fluffy cream rug sprawled across the polished wooden floor, and a cozy armchair tucked into the corner beside a tall bookshelf that’s overflowing with colorful novels, fashion magazines and trinkets.

The vanity table by the window catches his attention, its surface sprinkled with makeup items, a small vase of fresh flowers, and neatly arranged bottles of perfume. Above it, a mirror framed with soft golden lights reflects the subtle shimmer of the space.

The walls are brought to life with framed posters of iconic bands and celebrities, each placed thoughtfully, as though telling a story. A string of Polaroid pictures hangs on the wall near the bed, giving the room a personal, nostalgic touch.

He notices little figurines of 'Hello Kitty' on a floating shelf and a small collection of plush toys sitting in a basket near the window seat. The room feels youthful and dreamy, like stepping into a snapshot of your childhood.

Jungkook takes it all in, pausing as his eyes land on the posters and the subtle quirks that reveal glimpses of your younger self. He can’t help but imagine you here as a teenager... probably sprawled out on the bed, reading or listening to music, daydreaming about the future. The thought makes him smile, a warm fondness settling in his chest.

His thoughts are interrupted as you walk over to the vanity and pick up a picture frame, holding it up with a soft smile. “That’s me...” you say, pointing to a baby in the photo. Jungkook steps closer, curious, and his eyes fall on a little version of you, chubby-cheeked and wide-eyed. “And that... is Tae.” you continue, pointing to a young toddler that's securely holding you in his tiny arms.

Jungkook chuckles softly, leaning in to get a better look. “You still look the same.” he chuckles, his gaze shifting between the picture and you. "And Taehyung looks like he’s already ready to fight anyone who gets near you." he adds.

You laugh, gently setting the frame back down. You glance at the photo one last time, feeling a small tug of nostalgia before turning to Jungkook, who’s still looking around, clearly charmed by this intimate glimpse into your past.

"Your room is beautiful." he finally says, his voice soft with admiration as his gaze takes in the delicate details surrounding him. He can't believe he's being shown this deeply personal part of your life, and it makes him feel incredibly special.

You step forward, wrapping your arms around his neck with a tender smile. "Thank you, baby. I'm so glad I could show it to you." you say, pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Just as the moment seems perfect, your expression shifts like you've suddenly remembered something crucial. "Oh my god! wait... no way... I totally forgot!!" you exclaim, breaking away from him.

Jungkook is bewildered for what feels like the hundredth time today as you grab his hand and practically drag him out of the room and down the long corridor. He's still trying to process what’s happening when you lead him back downstairs. His eyes dart around, noticing the guests still lost in their conversations, oblivious to the two of you passing by.

"I told my mom I'd introduce you to her the minute you'd arrive but… I totally forgot!" you admit hurriedly, your voice tinged with a mix of excitement and guilt as you weave through the crowd.

The words hit Jungkook like a bolt of lightning, and his eyes widen in panic. Your mom? He was going to meet your mom? Right now? No warning, no preparation? He feels a surge of anxiety bubbling up in his chest.

"Wait... wait!" he halts abruptly, tugging your hand so you’re forced to turn around and look at him in confusion. "Babe, a warning would have been nice. I need to prepare myself for this moment... this is your mom we're talking about." he breathes out, clutching his chest dramatically.

You chuckle, brushing off his concerns with ease. "Oh, come on, Kook. She's just my mom. You'll be fine, I promise." you assure, gently tugging his hand again, urging him to follow you.

Reluctantly, Jungkook lets himself be led through a side door and into what appears to be the kitchen. As soon as he steps inside, he’s overwhelmed by the bustling atmosphere. The space is alive with activity... chefs moving in synchrony, slicing, plating, and perfecting dishes with meticulous attention to the tiniest details.

The scent of freshly baked bread mingles with the aroma of roasted meat and delicate spices, creating a sensory overload.

Jungkook’s gaze darts from one end of the kitchen to the other, trying to absorb everything at once. A massive spread of colorful dishes is being prepared on a long marble countertop, and he doesn’t even know where to focus. For a moment, he forgets his nerves as he marvels at the organized chaos around him.

"Stay with me." you murmur, squeezing his hand reassuringly. But Jungkook can’t help but think about how this might be the most intimidating moment of his life... meeting your mom in the middle of what feels like a five-star culinary operation.

You glance around the bustling kitchen, scanning the scene for your mom. It doesn’t take long before you spot her back as she leans slightly towards one of the chefs, gesturing animatedly while the chef nods thoughtfully, hanging on her every word.

There’s a commanding yet sophisticated presence about her, and the sight makes a smile creep onto your lips. Without hesitation, you tug Jungkook along, your excitement bubbling over. “Mama!!” you call out, your voice cutting through the hum of the kitchen.

At first, she doesn’t respond, too engrossed in giving precise instructions about something to the chef. You don’t mind, though because you know how focused she can get when she’s in her element.

As you approach her, you release Jungkook’s hand, letting him stand beside you as he instinctively straightens his coat, smoothing the fabric nervously.

Now only a few steps away, you finally stop, waiting patiently for her to finish her instructions. Jungkook stands a little stiffly next to you, his hands clasped in front of him as he watches the exchange, silently psyching himself up for what’s coming next.

Once she finishes instructing the chef, she finally turns around, her soft features lighting up with a smile when her eyes land on you. “Y/N.” she says warmly, acknowledging you.

Her appearance is effortlessly chic, exuding an aura of power and sophistication. Dressed in a sleek, wine colored dress paired with a delicate pearl necklace and stud earrings, she looks into your eyes.

Her posture is immaculate, shoulders back, chin high, and she carries herself with an air of unshakable authority. Her eyes... sharp and piercing, hold a fierceness that can make anyone squirm under her gaze.

She’s never been the one to smile easily, and even now, her expression holds a seriousness that makes Jungkook feel like he’s being sized up before he’s even said a word.

But when her eyes shift to Jungkook, her demeanor subtly changes. The faint smile that played on her lips moments ago falters, replaced by a look of mild disapproval.

One of her eyebrows arches as she takes in the man standing beside you, and Jungkook immediately feels the weight of her scrutiny. It’s clear from the way her gaze lingers that she’s not the least bit pleased to meet him.

“Mama, this is Jungkook.” you begin sweetly, your voice light and cheerful, as if trying to bridge the gap of tension. “I told you I was bringing him.” You smile at her, radiating warmth, but it’s met with a polite but distant smile from her, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Jungkook isn’t blind to it, he can see the coldness lurking behind her expression.

“Hello.” she finally says, her tone neutral, devoid of warmth. Her words are carefully measured, making Jungkook feel like she’s already testing him.

He feels his heart rate spike, but he doesn’t let it show. With a deep breath, he bows at a perfect right angle, his voice steady as he speaks. “Hello, ma’am. I’m Jeon Jungkook.” He straightens up, his posture confident despite the nervous energy coursing through him.

He meets her fierce gaze head-on, determined to make a good impression, though her icy stare makes him feel like he’s being dissected.

You glance at Jungkook, noticing his effort, and squeeze his hand briefly before stepping closer to your mother, hoping to ease the tension.

She nods curtly as Jungkook introduces himself, her sharp eyes trailing over him from head to toe, as though she’s analyzing every detail.

"So, you're from New York?" she asks suddenly, her voice carrying an edge that makes Jungkook straighten his posture. The question catches him slightly off guard, but he quickly nods in acknowledgment.

"Yes, ma’am." he answers politely, his voice steady.

Your mother narrows her eyes slightly, a calculating look flashing across her face. "I'm sure you've noticed how different things are around here... in Korea." she says, her tone almost conversational, though there's an unmistakable undercurrent of something more. "Very different from your... western culture." she adds, the words laced with what feels like a taunt.

You shift uncomfortably, sensing the rising tension. Jungkook hesitates, unsure of how to respond, and you decide to step in. "Mama, he lived in Korea before he moved to New York..." you explain gently, trying to diffuse the situation. "I'm sure he knows how things are around here."

But your mother doesn't acknowledge your reassurance. Her piercing gaze stays fixed on Jungkook. "Your parents?" she asks next, one eyebrow raised, her expression unyielding.

Jungkook’s throat tightens as he answers, his tone polite but guarded. "My mom... she owns a café in New York." he replies, hoping to keep the answer straightforward.

Your mother’s expression barely changes, but Jungkook notices the faintest flicker of disapproval in her eyes. It’s subtle, but it cuts deep. "Ah... so it's only your mother, then?" she probes further, her voice calm but pointed.

You feel your stomach drop at her words, the implicit judgment in her tone impossible to miss. Your protective instincts kick in immediately, and before she can say anything more, you interject.

"Okay, Mama, that's enough interrogation for now..." you say, your voice cheerful but firm as you grab Jungkook’s hand. "We need to get going. Grandma is going to be here any minute now... and the party is going to start soon." you add.

Jungkook notices the way her eyes flick down to your intertwined hands, and her jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. She doesn’t say anything, though, merely nodding stiffly as she steps back.

Before the situation can escalate further, you tug Jungkook out of the kitchen and into the hallway. As soon as you’re out of your mother's sight, you stop and turn to him, your expression apologetic.

"I am so so so sorry for that." you say quickly, your eyes scanning his face. You can see how pale he looks, the color drained from his cheeks. The conversation clearly rattled him, and it breaks your heart.

"I don’t know why she was acting like that." you continue, your voice softening as you place a comforting hand on his cheek. "I’m really sorry, baby. That wasn’t fair to you."

Jungkook exhales slowly, feeling the warmth of your palm against his skin. He hates how unsettled he feels, the subtle but unmistakable judgment in your mother’s eyes still gnawing at him.

He’s not naive, he knows exactly what her words and looks implied. But he doesn’t want to burden you with his feelings, so he forces a small smile and shrugs.

"Please... don’t apologize." he says gently, his voice calm but distant. "She’s your mother. I get why she’d question me like that... I’m dating her daughter, after all." he reasons.

His attempt to brush it off doesn’t fool you, but you decide not to push him. Instead, you give his cheek a small caress, hoping to soothe him.

Sensing the heaviness lingering between you, Jungkook shifts the conversation. "Anyways... don’t we have a tea party to get to?" he asks with a soft laugh, trying to lighten the mood despite the war in his mind.

You know he’s deflecting, choosing not to dwell on the interaction with your mother. So you let him, offering him a gentle smile in return. "We do." you reply softly, squeezing his hand. "Come on, let’s go."

As Jungkook trails behind you, the weight in his chest feels almost suffocating, each step amplifying the unease swirling in his mind.

Three weeks... that’s how long he’s going to be here for. The thought echoes in his head, heavier with every repetition.

He doesn’t know how he’s going to endure it, not when your mother’s piercing gaze feels like it sees right through him, layered with unspoken judgments that cut deeper than words ever could.

The very idea looms ahead, an uphill battle he isn’t sure he’s equipped to fight, yet one he knows he cannot avoid.

<- part 1

taglist: @mirinaeii @taetaecatboy (lmk if u want to be added <3)

[fairystarstorm]

Thinking about what's going wrong with Arcane s2

I have not finished s2 yet (still need to finish act 3 but basically got all the major spoilers). I feel like a big problem with this season and why the Z vs P conflict fizzled out is that so many characters are simply not in the that narrative anymore. Especially since they all had interesting stories to explore in regards to it. And if they are apart of the plot line, the things that would make things more interesting are simply ignored.

Taken from the narrative

Heimdinger: the founder of the city realising that the society he built ain't shit and that he failed Zaun by not helping to uplift and protect them (instead of just picking out a pupil from Zaun and calling it a day). All that Talk about how destructive magic could be in the wrong hands while realising he build a society filled with those exact wrong hands because of his inaction. Him actually putting in the work to change and dismantle those structures and belief systems that he allowed to grow in the first place

Jace: He goes against his own morals once again to build weapons for Caitlyn and her team. But we get none of the introspection or the regret that should have gone with it. Why because he is off in an alternative reality fighting for his life. He finds out that Hextech is poisoning Ekko's tree and there's nothing more to that conversation?? If something had gone wrong with the core it could have destroyed Zaun? Something could have happened that could have disabled or killed many others like it did with Viktor. But let's gloss over it. Him reconciling with his actions as a councilor??? That kid really was just a blip in his life i guess.

Viktor: a big problem I feel with Viktor's character is that he can feel very removed from Zaun at times. Like we never got to see his horror about Hextech being used against his people. We never got to know about any family or how he actually felt about being resurrected. What his plan was for Zaun beyond making a little commune. A huge part of that is also because they barely let this man have meaningful interactions with anyone in s2 besides ghost Sky and Jace. Vi, Jinx, Vander and Isha going to his commune could have been a possibility for that. Because even though I do believe that Vander and him did not know each other personally, I don't think he would not have known of him. Also we barely hear him talk meaningfully about his identity as a Zaunite in Piltover

Ekko (and the firelights in general): In my opinion the biggest snub. The others character arcs were mostly about other things in s1 (piltover politics, hextech etc.) but Ekko's whole motivation was to protect his ppl from both the enforcers and Silco. However we didn't get to see him deal with the rise of enforcers in the undercity or Sevika being the one to try and unite Zaun. We didn't get to see him grapple with the fact that Vi became an enforcer or that he was wrong to place his trust in Caitlyn. And even though I love how ep7 is highlighting his good qualities I wish they were explored in his timeline. Him being there would have also allowed for more spotlights for the firelights and Zaunites in general. None of the other people in the cast (Except for Vander) are as involved with regular people in Zaun then he was. It makes Zaun feel less complex and lived in beyond the visuals.

Mel: Considering that they are setting up her mother as the true big bad (which flattened the Z vs P conflict + general bad writing surrounding ambessa which i won't discuss now), it would have been nice to have her be able to react. Like in the beginning of the season we get it a little bit with Mel using spies to figure out her mother's plans. We could have had her realise that Piltover is not fundamentally different from Noxus because of how easy it was for her mother to take over. Only that the violence they dish out is different between the 2 cities. We could have had her sit that in both cases she is part of the oppressive class and that she was only acting out of self interest rather than actually caring about these issues. Instead of her being Kidnapped to get powers, let her finish the story arch that had been set up for her in s1.

Underexplored

Sevika (And Jinx): her involvement with Silco and how that is seen by Zaunites that are not chembarons. Ppl being unwilling to trust or listen to Sevika pleading for united Zaun when she was apart of Silco's operations make sense. Silco brought shimmer into Zaun. Ekko says that a lot of the firelights joined because of how it ruined their lives. Sevika having to struggle with her role in it and how it ultimately makes it harder for the to reach her goal would have been satisfying! Also her showing up after episode 4 would have been nice in general. Also same with ekko, she was the only one who was reaching out and communicating with different groups of Zaun. She and Ekko were windows into Zaun society that they just kept closed for some reason.

Vi: Just everything man.... her trauma, her choosing to be an enforcer, her alcoholism... her relationship with Jinx/powder, her guilt, her role as protector who seems to be failing no matter what she does. All kinda of flushed through the drains for caitvi to be able to exist (yes i dislike caitvi, no i also don''t really care for jayvik or timebomb and i am also a lesbian).

Jinx: I thinks she has been done quite well so far but I have heard for how her arch ends and it is just bad..... also wished they explored Isha more and what Vander coming back would mean for Jinx

Caitlyn: wish they would actually put the responsibility of her actions onto her instead of Ambessa/Jinx killing her mom. Also the fact it was never addressed that even in s1 she was microagressive as fuck towards Zaunites. Yes she eventually saw the need for independence (after talking to Ekko mind you) but does that mean anything if when she was in power due was actively making things worse for Zaun. She could have started working kn redeeming herself but the fact that the narrative/the writers don't want to put the full blame on her just makes that idea seem laughable

Tbh a lot of it has to do with the fact that the writers didn't let characters interact with each other for long periods of time or deal with the consequences of their actions but hey at least the coplesbians fucked and the scientists had their madoka magica moment

[str8upjorkinit]

Why do you like the brat

(genuinely want to know lmao)

funny you should ask that...

it all started when I saw that one ad where leo was kicking his feet in the bathtub...(big yap warning)

shallowly, he gives power bottom energy. i was prepared to not like him since my friend was further in the game + picked leo bc she thought he looked cunty and quickly found out that she hated him, but my first meeting of him was that ad.... that ad.... hes so like girly and like cutesy and and :3c!! so then i actually met him in the game... hes so girly and cutesy omg, i live for that fake bitch energy. hes so like... pathetic and two faced and cute like....

so basically i have this thing where i yearn for this kind of dynamic where i can overpower him but hes smarter than me and also very interesting so i just let him boss me around. hes so like... weak. and i love his voice i need him to moan in my ear especially when hes being fake and cute bc he wants something from you? "captain~<3 can you please open this bottle for me?~ <3" ugh. fuck. boner. hes such a vixen. hes such a diva.

also him crying... oh my lord LEO CRYING!!! UGHHH. the world's prettiest crier <3 and his goddamn tongue piercing

also like the switch up is hot too, the duality of man <3 my pretty delicate princess!!

psychologically, hes such a fucking wreck and i love that, hes such a bitch, and hes so manipulative, and hes so jealous, and insecure, and such a liar, im so fascinated!!! does he know how awful he is? does he realize how toxic hes being? is he toxic on purpose?? is he a shit friend on purpose? is it a power trip to make sho pay for his food or is he just lazy? i want to know what hes thinking

his relationship with sho is so fascinating too, like its so clear hes scared of losing him but in a way he also hates/loves him. like wdym you have other friends besides me??? you're starting a business??? ugh, ur so lame. and he actively tries to isolate him, is he jealous of sho's popularity? his talents? his social life? or does he hate the things that takes sho away from him?? he also does not give a shit about shos happiness either bc he like badmouthed him to subaru just so subaru could leave him alone... wow... what a fucking asshole... im so invested, drama!!!! also the valentine's day line where he doesn't mention getting anything but sho does,,, it means something no?? dude, like, leo is everything and nothing, i bet he feels so worthless but to make up for that he uses sho and internet validation

hes built like a reality tv character, THE instigator but hes smart about it. hes such an attention whore, like .... regina george... guys real shit i have a mean girl kink /j

leos the type of bitch to flirt with and sleep with his boss to make more money.

ANOTHER THING he has like a weird sense of justice?? like he hates ppl who've made the world shitty (ref to when he jumps off the building) and so him and sho scamming old rich guys is kinda like them being vigilantes? leos kinda like an anti-hero in a way. hes so interesting!!! AHH!!!

omg also hes in his self-destructive era and i need to see how it goes, like will he be a villain? will his life get ruined bc of himself?? will he get punished? will he redeem himself? does he regret his choices??

ngl i tho im actually not romantically interested in him, which is pretty surprising considering how much i like him. im obsessed with him in the most objectifying way possible

but yeah i love my toxic fruit tart boy <333

[merrybloomwrites]

I Hear Them Calling (Extra: Thanksgiving)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Summary: Thanksgiving is Y/Ns favorite holiday, but an unexpected heat nearly derails it. Her alpha, Harry, is there to make sure things go according to plan.

Word Count: 2K

CW: mentions of heat cycle, scenting, omega drop

AN: So happy to bring these characters back for a bit! I do have another couple extras planned for them!

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

Thanksgiving has always been one of your favorite holidays. It’s the only time of year that your whole family gets together, and so you always go all out. The festivities last for days, and you always have so much fun and make so many memories.

Which is why you panic when you start feeling signs of pre-heat the Friday before Thanksgiving.

Harry is out at the studio when it happens, starting to work on some writing for his next album. When his phone rings he checks it and smiles seeing your name there. 

“Hi baby, I promise I’m wrapping up here within the hour,” he says, knowing he’s been gone longer than he planned to.

“Alpha,” you reply, your voice shaky. Harry is immediately on edge, your tone worrying him as well as his inner alpha.

“Omega, what’s wrong?” He’s on his feet, gathering his things as he listens to you reply, “I think I’m going into heat.”

He takes a breath, relieved that’s the answer. He was admittedly worried that something was really wrong, or that a strange alpha was trying to hurt you. But a heat, that’s something the two of you can handle.

“How soon do you think?” he asks.

“Uhm, not immediately. Maybe tomorrow,” you answer.

“Okay well I’ll finish up here as quickly as I can and clear my schedule. Everything is going to be alright.”

“No it’s not!” Harry’s shocked by your outburst. You’re normally so calm and level headed. He knows there has to be more than just an oncoming heat.

“Sweetheart you’ve had heats before, you’re never this worried. What’s going on?” 

It’s quiet for a moment until you answer, “I don’t want to miss Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, baby. I know you don’t. But I really don’t think we will. If it starts tomorrow like you think it will be over in time to get home, just like we planned.”

“It will?”

“It will. You’ve never gone more than three days since you’ve been on these suppressants. If it makes you feel better why don’t you start packing and getting ready for the trip now? That way you won’t have to worry about it after. We can just relax until it’s time to go.”

“Okay. Yea. That’s a good idea,” you reply.

“Alright. You start that and I’ll take care of the last of my work stuff. I’ll swing by the shops on my way home and get some heat food for us.”

“Okay. Don’t be too long. I miss you. Need my alpha,” you say, causing Harry’s heart to swell.

“I’ll be as fast as possible. I love you, omega.”

“Love you too,” you reply before hanging up. 

You feel antsy, wanting your alpha home with you. The extra clinginess is always one of the first signs of your heat. But you do as Harry suggested and pack both of your bags. When that’s done you start to build a nest, wanting a fresh one to spend your heat in.

Harry’s impressed when he gets home. Not only are you done packing, but you’d built a beautiful nest for the two of you. 

You spend the rest of the night by his side, first not wanting him out of your sight, then later not allowing him out of your reach. Saturday morning comes and you’re disappointed that you’ve made it through the night without your heat starting.

As the day goes on you get more and more anxious. It has to start soon, the time you have until Thanksgiving is ticking away. You become more agitated, and even Harry can’t calm you like he normally can.

And then finally, just as you’re cleaning up dinner, the first wave hits you. Nearly crying in relief you rush Harry to your nest, where you’ll spend the following 72 hours. 

By Tuesday night your heat has mostly passed, and you happily let Harry pamper you. The two of you bathe together before sharing a delicious meal. You’re both exhausted, quickly falling asleep in the bed that Harry has expertly made with fresh sheets.

Wednesday morning comes and Harry is confused to wake up to an empty bed. He’d planned on a lazy lie in where he could continue to cuddle and scent you, give you the closeness and the touch that your omega needs after a heat. 

He finds you in the kitchen making breakfast, and his alpha scolds him for not taking proper care of you. 

But you don’t see it that way. You feel great! You’d just had an enjoyable heat shared with your wonderful alpha, and you’re excited to get on the road to be with your family. Right now, everything is perfect in your eyes.

“Baby, what are you doing up?” Harry asks, coming over to help you.

“I slept like a log all night. Don’t think I even rolled over once. So I’m feeling refreshed. How are you, did you sleep okay?”

“Yea, yea I’m good,” he answers. You gesture for him to sit and he does as he’s told. The two of you eat together and he makes sure to thank you and compliment the breakfast you’d made. 

“Alright so I’m going to shower and finish getting everything ready. I’m hoping to be on the road by 11. Those bags by the door are ready. Can you load them in the car?”

Harry’s taken aback again. Surely you don’t plan to leave so soon. You’re barely twelve hours out of your heat. He’d hoped that you would be willing to wait twenty four hours and drive up that evening. Well really he wanted to wait until the following morning, but he knew you’d want to wake up at your mom’s house on the actual holiday. 

But this? This made him nervous. You seem fine, but this is not how you normally are after a heat. Normally you won’t let him leave your side for at least two days. You try to hide away from the rest of the world, wanting to stay home, stay in your nest. He doesn’t want you pushing yourself too much, but he also knows that there’s no stopping you at this point. You have the plan made, and you’re going to execute it.

Vowing to keep a close eye on you, Harry follows your lead. Just as you’d planned, you’re on the road by 11. Harry is relieved to see you nap for a bit of the drive, and he’s reluctant to wake you once you get there. 

But everything starts out smoothly. Your parents are excited to see you and Harry, and after you settle everything in your room, the four of you have a lovely lunch together. 

Mid-afternoon the rest of your family arrives. You say hello to everyone, and then your cousin Kelly introduces you to her new boyfriend. You’re immediately taken aback by the scent of an alpha. 

Aside from you, every single person in your family is a beta. You never expected that there would be an alpha at your family gathering. 

Harry tenses beside you and you know he’s picked up on the scent as well. You both remain polite before excusing yourselves for a moment.

Quickly you head up to your room, Harry following close behind. Once the door is closed you take a deep breath.

Harry sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out to help you sit next to him. 

“I didn’t know that an alpha would be here,” you state.

“I know. Are you okay?” he asks. You’re hesitant around alphas as it is, and seeing one while fresh out of heat is clearly upsetting your omega. 

“I don’t know. I feel a bit weird. Can you scent me? Please?” 

“Of course, baby,” he replies. He leans down, his nose brushing the scent gland on your neck. He douses you in calming pheromones and you begin to go lax. But a knock at the door has you tensing once again.

“Who is it?” Harry asks.

“It’s Erin, can I come in?” You nod yes and Harry speaks the reply. The door opens and Erin says, “Just wanted to make sure you guys are okay.”

You smile at this. Erin, who is a few years older than you, has always been more like a big sister than a cousin. It makes you happy that even though you’ve both grown up, she’s still looking out for you.

“I’m okay,” you reply. “It’s just- I finished a heat yesterday and didn’t expect there to be an alpha here.”

“What do you mean? There aren’t any alphas except Harry.”

“Kelly’s boyfriend. He smells like an alpha,” you explain.

“That’s odd,” Erin replies. “He’s definitely a beta. He does have an alpha brother, maybe that’s what you're smelling. I can go talk to him to see if that’s the case. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” she says and leaves before you can even thank her. 

She comes back a couple minutes later and says, “It’s confirmed. He’s a beta and is borrowing clothes from his brother. He found a clean shirt and even sprayed some neutralisers to make sure the smell is completely gone.”

Suddenly you feel embarrassed by your overreaction. Harry can sense this, but simply replies, “That’s so kind of him. Thank you for helping with that. We’re going to stay up here a little longer. Can you tell everyone we’ll be down in a bit?”

“Yea of course. Feel free to text me if you need anything,” Erin says before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks.

“I feel bad. Like, guilty that I overreacted,” you reply.

“There’s nothing to feel bad about. Sometimes our secondary genders take a bit of control. I know mine did down there. The second that scent hit me my only goal was to get my omega as far from that unknown alpha as possible.”

It does make you feel better to know that Harry was as affected as you were. You lean up to scent him briefly, before pulling away.

Harry gives you a questioning look and you say, “I’m a little dizzy. I think- I’m pretty sure I’m dropping.”

“That’s perfectly okay,” Harry replies. He moves the two of you so you’re comfortably lying in the bed. “I’m here, omega. I’ll protect you. I’ve got you.”

He’s releasing soothing pheromones, and before you know it your world goes dark as you enter into a peaceful drop.

It’s quick, only lasting half an hour, and you wake up more refreshed than you’ve felt in a while. Finally you’re ready to join your family. 

Dinner that night is simple, takeout from a local Italian restaurant. But it’s not about the food, it’s about the people. You catch up with your family, enjoying this time with them as your alpha sits beside you, a steady hand resting on your knee to reassure you of his presence after your heat and drop. 

The next day is wonderful as well. Harry has never celebrated American Thanksgiving before and you and your family make sure he gets the full experience. Which of course includes the frantic rush to get the turkey in the oven on time while the Macy’s parade plays on the TV. 

That night you’re seated on the couch, Harry beside you, and your heart fills with pride at seeing him interact so wonderfully with your family.

The next morning is much more relaxed, everyone sitting around enjoying their tea or coffee. Both lunch and dinner consist of the previous day’s leftovers, and the vibe remains calm

That is until the table is cleared of food, making room for board games.

Somehow you’d forgotten to warn Harry about this part of the family get togethers. 

You wouldn’t say you’re a particularly competitive group. But something about board games really leads you all to get extra excited. 

No one ever gets angry or anything, just very, very loud. And honestly, quite silly. 

Harry fits right in, joking along with the rest of you as things continue to get out of hand. There’s more laughter than anything, and you pause a moment to simply take it all in. You have everything you could ever want, and as you watch Harry give up the crown to your cousin during the Pretty, Pretty Princess tournament, you feel a sense of peace.

Being an omega in this world is hard, but now that you’ve found your perfect alpha, it all feels worth it.

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AN: Thanks for reading! If you celebrate Thanksgiving, I hope you have a lovely day! If not, I still hope you have a lovely Thursday!

If you have a request for an extra for this story please let me know!

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[aizenify]

[💌] AIZEN SŌSUKE RELATIONSHIP HEADCANNONS

[NOTE]: Aizen has a variety of character arcs, so this won't be limited to any specific one. I do plan to create a more detailed version covering the different Aizen arcs in the future, but you're welcome to request any specific one in the meantime.

[ ☕️ ] My ask box is open! If you have a specific prompt you'd like me to write about—whether it's relationships, everyday activities, or anything else—don't hesitate to ask! I encourage you to suggest whatever your heart desires.

TW: none!

This will be split into 2 sections

What does Aizen look for?

— If you were Aizen’s partner, you’d definitely be someone very special to him. Looks wouldn’t be as important; rather, it would be your personality and ideologies that matter most.

— For instance, Aizen values someone who enjoys challenges and is willing to take risks. He’s all for that, but, of course, you’d also need to be cautious at times.

— Aizen greatly appreciates a deep understanding of the world. I like to think that he and his partner would engage in philosophical conversations daily. He’d want someone to explore the world with, to venture into new places, and try new experiences. Aizen definitely strikes me as the type to enjoy travel.

— He would want someone who challenges him. Given who Aizen is, he wouldn’t be interested in a partner who is passive or follows the crowd. He wants someone who will challenge his ideas, his ethics, and his worldview. He seeks someone who is on the same intellectual level, someone equal to him, or perhaps even better. This is something he has always longed for.

— I believe Aizen is sapiosexual, meaning he is attracted to people with high intelligence, and also likely demisexual or somewhere on the aromantic/asexual spectrum. He deeply values intelligence and personal space. For him, the sexual aspects of a relationship would not be his focus; instead, he values the fundamentals. His understanding of "love" is more complex than that of most people.

— Building on what I mentioned about his view on love, you would also need to respect his needs and be patient. Trust is essential here. Aizen doesn’t easily trust anyone, so the idea of him loving someone would make him feel extremely vulnerable. While he views trust as a form of reliance, his approach to trust in relationships is different. His way of showing trust and love will likely be expressed through his actions. Perhaps after Muken, Aizen would become more open and free. Muken Aizen, after all, is much more carefree and relaxed.

I’ll keep this section as is since it’s getting long. I’ll leave the rest for another day!

What will Aizen be like with his S/O?

— Aizen would likely ask for your thoughts on his plans or if you have any alternative suggestions for execution. He enjoys the sound of his own voice, so don’t be surprised if he rambles on about his strategies or just shares his thoughts from time to time.

— He will shower his partner with gifts and words of affirmation. Aizen is incredibly attentive and will take note of even the smallest details about what you like, even if you haven’t explicitly told him.

— Quality time will be very important to him as well. Despite his preference for solitude, having someone by his side will be a refreshing change. After being alone for so long, it’s natural to crave companionship. Aizen will likely plan a variety of activities for you both to enjoy together, whether it’s shopping, cooking, or simply taking a walk. Every moment with you will be meaningful.

— Physical touch is something Aizen might find unfamiliar at first. He’s used to being cautious with those around him, especially with anyone who gets too close. However, I think he would offer hugs from time to time as a way to show that he’s there for you and cares for you. If he knows you enjoy physical affection, he’ll make an effort to meet that need, even if it takes him a while to become fully comfortable with it!

— Expect a lot of playful bantering. Aizen seems like He enjoys a bit of lighthearted back-and-forth.

— Aizen will take you out on extravagant dates or to fancy venues. He is undoubtedly classy and chivalrous, he will treat you with the utmost respect and make sure you always get the best of everything!

That’s all for now! Thank you for reading!!! This is my first published hc 🧡🤎☕️