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written-in-flowers · 2 days ago

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Be The Light: Pt. 6 (Matz x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Hongjoong x Seonghwa x Fem!Reader | Side pairing(s): Ateez x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7k

Genre: Smut, angst | AU: historical, arranged marriage, polyamorous, royalty au.

Summary: YN has spent her entire life in service of Han Sookmyung, Queen of Hanseong. She never dreamed above her station, or that she'd ever be in reach of Sookmyung's concubines, 'The Golden Ones'. But, when secrets are brought to life, her world is turned upside-down.

Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, heavily referenced torture (briefly), heavily referenced abuse (briefly), heavily referenced sexual abuse (briefly), enslavement, slight gaslighting, lost sibling, political drama, historical drama, joseon!au, concubine!ateez, nsfw content, virgin!reader, polyamory, polygamous, throuple, threesome m/m/f, oral sex (m. and f. receiving/giving), group sex, multiple positions, multiple partners, cunnlingus, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, virgin sex, virginity discussed.

Tags: I wasn't sure if the previously tagged wanted to be tagged again since it's been so long, so let me know below!

Part 5 < | > Part 7

****

You arrived at Jisoo’s residency a few moments later. Normally, you never hesitated to knock on the frame to enter. The Queen Mother always made you feel welcome and wanted in her presence. You knew the real reason behind that now. Yunho and Wooyoung stood ahead of you, and you dreaded them knocking for you. Not even Seonghwa’s presence assured you.

Only last night you discovered the woman who cared for you so deeply was really your mother. Your birth mother. You didn't know how to feel about it. You'd felt angry in the beginning, betrayal fanning the flames, but that feeling settled into pity. It must have been difficult to give you away something she'd desperately wanted. Her love must always be from a distance, never touching too much or being overly affectionate. She likely saw her husband’s face in yours, and longed for more. Despite this, you could not see her as your mother. Whenever the word “mother” came to mind, you pictured Park Chaewon. She'd raised you. She loved you. You didn't see anyone being your mother except her.

“Your Majesty,” the guard at the door opened it, bowing to Jisoo, “The Queen has arrived.”

You entered the room to find Jisoo, your mother Chaewon, Advisor Wonshik, and Hongjoong in the room. Hongjoong no longer wore the black and gold hanbok of Sookmyung’s “Flowers”. He wore red, the color of kings, with his hair in a topknot held by a golden band. The dragons of royalty swirled around his shoulders and down his wide sleeves. He looked like a king. A true king. You found it hard to look away from him. Jisoo, Wonshik and Chaewon stood up when you walked in, and you almost said they didn't have to stand for you.

But, yes, they do.

“Good morning,” you said, speaking to them first, “I was told you wished to see me?”

“We did,” Jisoo nodded, “Please sit.”

You took a seat at the head of the table, and all their eyes fell on you. Except Hongjoong. He looked anywhere but at you. You saw the blush of pink on his cheeks, and the way he scratched the inside of his sleeve. You wanted to say something to him. Out of all her concubines, Hongjoong had been her favorite. He'd witnessed her cruelty in the dungeons. He knew her true nature. You hoped if anyone understood your fear, it would be him.

“Your Majesty,” Jisoo drew your attention to her, “His Grace, Advisor Wonshik, Chaewon and I have been discussing important matters concerning your new position-”

“-Has Sookmyung been found yet?” You asked, trying not to appear frightened about the answer.

“I'm afraid not,” she said. “The guards have combed the city, but there has been no sign of her. She has likely fled to one of her allies by now.”

“There are people looking into it,” your mother said, patting your hand comfortingly. “She will be caught soon enough. We have other important things to discuss.”

Your stomach knotted again. The marriage. They mean to talk about marriage. You picked at the border of your hanbok, wishing more than anything to be somewhere else. The thought of being Hongjoong’s wife drained you of warmth completely. What if he doesn't want to marry you? You might have had brief exchanges before now, but nothing to suggest any romantic feelings. He'd done it out of pity, not love.

“Now that Sookmyung is no longer on the throne, we must focus our efforts on rebuilding what she has broken,” Jisoo began. “Wonju is considered one of her biggest failures, rather than triumphs, since the people there did not recognize her as their ruler. As you know, Wonju was never conquered by the Han clan several centuries ago, and remained an independent kingdom until Sookmyung’s reign.”

“Yes…”

“In order to reunite the two kingdoms-”

“-They wish for us to marry, YN,” Hongjoong cut her off, unable to keep it to himself. “The people are looking to us to save them, and the only way that can happen is if our kingdoms reunite as allies.”

“They want us to marry?” You questioned him in a soft voice.

“Yes,” he nodded. “It wouldn't be for a while, since your coronation needs to be done as quickly as possible. But, a marriage pact would show the people that this is only the beginning of our reform. My family said they would not agree to reuniting without one.”

“Um, well…I…”

“You do not need to make a decision now,” he added. “You have gone through a very sudden change, and I told them that I didn't want to have this conversation so soon, but they insisted.”

“It is important we act swiftly, Your Grace,” Wonshik said apologetically. “Every moment we wait will be a chance for Sookmyung to reclaim her power.”

“I understand that, yes,” Hongjoong replied, “But there is no point if people do not see YN as their queen first.”

“What about Sookmyung?” You asked again.

The words came laced with fear. She will hear about this union, and be overcome with rage. That rage would be taken out on you slowly and painfully. The image shook you to your core. Only your mother's gentle touch calmed you slightly, but only just.

“She will be found,” she reassured you, “And answer for her crimes.”

“If she hears about thi-”

“-There will be nothing she can do about it,” she comforted you. “She will be far away.”

“That is what she will want you to think…”

“I won’t let her get anywhere near you,” Hongjoong said firmly. “I promise. Sookmyung will not harm a single hair on you while I’m alive.”

“If you’re alive…” you said under your breath, but you knew he’d heard you.

“The wedding will happen after the coronation,” Wonshik moved on from the conversation, withdrawing an old leather book from beside him. “Advisor Heechul drew up estimates for the cost of the coronation feast and celebration afterwards. I told him the crown will be paying for the event to avoid raising the taxes any higher so as not to be a burden on the people.”

“Good,” you heard yourself say. When they turned to you, you explained, “I meant that taxation is already so high that people cannot afford food. If the crown can cover the cost, then they should. The people shouldn’t have to pay for a coronation of a queen they don’t know.”

“And unfortunately, the coronation of a new monarch implies that the previous monarch has passed on,” he said. “King Siwon passed away nine years ago, and is currently buried in the King’s temple within the city. Since we already had our two year mourning period for him, I don’t see any reason to have one now so that may be passed over. However, people will expect you to make the walk towards his temple to pay your respects to the old king.”

You remembered Sookmyung’s period. Most monarchs abstain from meat after the death of the previous ruler, but not Sookmyung. She claimed her father would’ve wanted her to live heartily. Anyone who knew King Siwon would’ve known he always followed traditions and cultural customs. You’d done it out of respect and love for him. Learning he was your true father, it only brought sense to your decision then.

“Since Queen Sookmyung was dethroned, there really isn’t a need to have such an austere ceremony,” he said, “Which means we can add a bit of a festive flair to the event.”

“Meaning?”

“People are meant to celebrate you,” Jisoo said bracingly. “We must start your reign off on the right foot if we are to win the respect and trust of the people. You will go to the King’s resting place, then we will have you take the throne, and have the feast afterwards.”

“And what about Hongjoong?” you glanced over at him. “He’s the King of Wonju now. How can he be my King Consort if he has a throne of his own?”

“My cousin, Jeongin,” he said, “Will be crowned King instead of me.”

“What?” Jisoo’s eyes widened at this. “When were you planning on telling us this?”

“Now,” he said. “I sent a letter to my cousin early this morning that I am adjudicating my throne and giving it to him. He has had good tutors and many trustworthy advisors at his side. He will not fail his people, I know it.”

“But, you’re supposed to be the king,” you said softly, confused. “Isn’t that what you always wanted? To go home? To be with your people and lead them? You cannot do that if you’re my husband.”

“I can lead my people just as much at your side than on my father’s throne,” he told you. “We can lead them together.”

“To-Together?”

“Yes,” he nodded, “You did not truly believe I’d let you have all the credit, hm?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. Being under his gaze made your heart flutter, much like with Seonghwa.

“The coronation will happen at the end of the week,” Jisoo declared.

“So soon, Your Majesty?” your mother asked, concerned.

“It needs to happen as quickly as possible,” Wonshik said. “In the meantime, Her Majesty can go into the city and meet her people.”

“I don’t believe that is wise, Chief Advisor,” Hongjoong told her. “If Sookmyung or her allies hear YN is walking around the city, they may use it as a chance to strike.”

“She will be under guard, naturally,” Jisoo replied. “You can choose the men yourself, if that puts you at ease.”

You can tell it did not. “I don’t know if I’m very comfortable with that,” you said next. “Sookmyung will be looking for any chance to seize back her power. If I’m walking freely around the city, she’ll send an assassin or see it as an opportunity to attack. She'll wait until our defenses are down.”

“I doubt she’ll have that with such little time-”

“-I beg to differ,” you interrupted her. “Sookmyung is not one to sit idle for long. Right now, she is planning the quickest way to regain her power. She is likely screaming at her allies to gather up their troops and form a strategy against us.”

“And we can use that to our advantage,” Hongjoong said. “Sookmyung is impulsive, impatient, and rash. Her allies, whoever they are, will try to convince her to stay her hand, but after a while that will not be enough.”

You wondered how many times she has said, ‘I am the queen’ in the hours since she’d left.

“Her own madness will be her undoing,” he said, as if promising this to you. “I’d like to ask you, YN, if you’d like Mingi and San to be your personal guards.”

The sudden change in topic surprised you. “Before there are to be any discussions of public appearances,” he continued, “We should discuss your guardsmen. I took the liberty of placing Mingi and San at your doors last night, but if there is somebody else you prefer, I’ll make sure they’re put there tonight.”

“San and Mingi are fine,” you said, unsure of how else to phrase it.

“You should have trained soldiers as your guards, Your Majesty,” Wonshik intervened.

“San is a trained soldier,” Hongjoong argued. “Mingi might’ve not been in the army, but he sailed with pirate hunters before he became a shipbuilder. The other lords are just as capable with swords as well. YN will be perfectly safe with them.”

“But people may have a different impression of their queen if she is seen with Sookmyung’s concubines,” Jisoo said. “We don’t want people to think any less of her or believe she indulges in Sookmyung’s desires as well.”

“I don’t want anyone else as my guards.”

Your words stunned both your mother and Jisoo. When they didn’t speak, you said, “Sookmyung had many spies amongst the royal guards. If she knew of your coupe, she may have asked one or two to stay behind to act as spies. She could have even ordered them to kill me if they caught me alone.” Silence once more, so you looked at Hongjoong, “Also, if anybody knows Sookmyung as well as myself, it’ll be her concubines. They know how she thinks. They know the depth of her depravity and ruthlessness. I don’t trust anyone else to protect me as much as them.”

If that is what they wished. The last thing you wanted was for the concubines to believe they must stay in the palace under a new title.

The group continued discussing your coronation and appearance in the city. You listened intently, occasionally giving your input, but otherwise content to stay silent. Sookmyung would seize the opportunity if it presented itself. The image of you walking amongst the city streets came to mind. You pictured a masked man hiding in plain sight, waiting for the chance to strike you down and end your life. You tried comforting yourself that you’d have guards, but what good are those when you have an unrelenting force after you?

“-We will have to speak with the advisors on the best route through the city,” Jisoo concluded the meeting, “But I am sure they will agree a trip through the safer parts of Hanseong is best.”

“We also must discuss her first official act as queen,” Hongjoong said. “Something that will show people that she is different from Sookmyung.”

“The people in the dungeons.” The words left you suddenly, and they stared in curiosity. “I wish for them to be released,” you continued cautiously, “And treated by the physician. For those who have already died, they will be cleaned, mended and given a proper burial.” When none of them spoke, you said, “Is that something we can't do?”

“Yes, we can,” said Jisoo, “But there are many people down there.”

“And I want them removed. They have suffered long enough.”

You couldn't stop yourself from picturing the mangled bodies. It made you sick again. You hadn't saved them in life, but you could help them find peace in death. But, a tiny voice inside you still spoke:

“They will only know peace when she's dead.”

“I can arrange for the jailors and guards to bring the wounded into the courtyard outside,” Jisoo interrupted your thoughts. “Once people hear what you've done, they may see you're nothing like her.”

“That isn't why I asked,” you responded, not looking at her. “Those people did nothing wrong. They'd committed minor offenses, at best. I want to end their suffering, since I…”

‘Couldn't stop it before it happened.’

“The physician may not be able to treat everyone,” your mother said. “He's only one man.”

“Yunho was a physician's apprentice,” Hongjoong said. “He can aid Physician Yoon, and the other lords have their own we can call upon.”

“I’ll make sure your command is carried out,” Jisoo assured you.

“Thank you.”

You met his eyes and knew he understood, even if the others did not. The meeting concluded, and your mother and Jisoo left for Advisor Wonshik's office. This left you alone with Hongjoong. You saw him nervously chewing the inside of his cheek. The overcoat, bright red with golden dragons, appeared a bit large on him. You also noticed the wear on the buttons keeping it closed, and the belt as well.

“Is that yours?” You asked him, indicating the hanbok.

“King Siwon’s,” he said. “They thought it would be good to dress according to my station, but…”

“They didn't have any spare hanboks,” you finished, nodding. “This is one of Jisoo’s old dresses. I don't know if I like it.”

“We'll have our own soon enough. I suspect a dressmaker and tailor are already being sought after.” He then said, “Our marriage…It doesn't bother you, does it? I know a lot of things have happened overnight, and this marriage arrangement won't relieve anything. I told them I didn't wish to discuss it so soon, but they insisted.”

“I understand the need for haste,” you replied, “But yes, it is a lot to take in at once. I can’t stop thinking about it. Sookmyung…being the queen…Queen Jisoo and King Siwon being my birth parents…you becoming my betrothed…Now meeting the people and being enthroned. It’s…” you gripped the cuffs of your sleeves, picking at the seams inside again. “It's so much.”

“It is,” he scooted closer to you, and laced his fingers with yours. “But you'll have me and the others to help you. You won't be doing this alone.”

That comforted you, but his touch was electrifying. He seemed to know this, and instead of pulling away, locked hands with you.

“I hope to become someone who can comfort you,” he admitted. “I could not do much when Sookmyung was nearby, but with her gone, I'd like us to be closer in the future. If we're to be married, I'd like to be friends at least.”

“Only friends?”

The corner of his mouth twitched, “Unless you'd like to be more? It isn't something I will force upon you.”

“I…I don't know…” you wanted to, yes. You absolutely wanted to be more with him. “But, Sookymung-”

“-Does not own us,” he cut you off. “She might have owned my body, but not my heart. YN, I know we did not speak much with Sookmyung always so close, but now that she's not, I want to-Well, what I mean to say is that I wish to be closer to you. Ever since we met all those years ago, when I saw how she treated you and that I was not alone in my misery, I've dreamed of the moment I'd be free to pursue you.”

“You did? You do?”

“Yes,” he blushed, “It was childish, really. But now that we're arranged to be married, I would like to have a closer relationship with you.”

“You do?” You asked one more time.

“Is that so hard for you to believe?”

“Yes, actually,” you nodded. “Since we've met, I've done my best to avoid speaking to any of you. I knew if I showed the slightest interest in front of her she’d punish me. I knew she’d do the same to you if she thought you might return those feelings. She hated it whenever any of you showed a flicker of kindness to another woman, and it made me fear what she might do if that woman happened to be me. I stayed away to keep her from hurting anyone else.”

“But, she isn’t here now,” he said. “I understand exactly how you feel. There'd been so many instances where I wanted nothing more than to reach out and comfort you; to save you from whatever cruelties she forced you to witness. But, I knew if I showed any signs of affection or notice, she'd hurt you. I didn’t care if she hurt me, YN, I was used to it. It was you,” he cupped your cheek, “Whose pain I couldn’t bear. If there is any reason that I’m glad she’s gone, it’s that she can no longer harm or disgrace you.”

“She’ll come back,” you whispered, the fear starting to creep back at the slight touch. She could be watching right now, seething and drowning in her rage, eager to strike out at you. “She’ll come back,” you croaked again, “And she’ll-she’ll kill you. She’ll do it and make me watch before she does it to me.”

“She won’t because I won’t let her,” he said firmly, cupping your cheek to keep your eyes on him. “I’ll do everything in my power to make sure she never lays a hand on you again.”

You tried finding comfort in his words. For ages, you dreamed of this exact moment: Hongjoong sitting close to you, touching and whispering sweet nothings. Other times, it might be Seonghwa or Yunho or one of the other concubines. You thought of all the times she’d put them within your grasp just to pull them away at the very last second. Every time she mentioned finding you a husband, you knew she did not mean it. In a twisted, obscene way, you were hers and only hers.

“We don’t need to speak of this right now,” he said once he sensed your hesitancy. “There are far more important things to handle first. I…” he paused, looking over your face one more time. “I simply wished for you to know of my feelings.”

You reached for his hand when he pulled it away. So soft. So gentle. Before you could respond, someone else walked into the room. Seonghwa stood at the other end of the table, hands folded in front of one another and bowing to each of you.

“Excuse me, Your Majesties,” he began, “But the council wishes to speak with you now.”

“Did they say why?”

“I don’t, but I imagine it may be about taxation and property laws,” he said. “If you wish, I’ll tell them you’re…preoccupied,” he shifted a glance to Hongjoong, hiding a smile.

“No, no,” you shook your head, “We’ll speak with them.”

“‘We’ll’?” Hongjoong asked curiously.

“You’re to be my King Consort soon,” you said, “And I know very little about law making. I thought perhaps you’d like to join us?”

“Of course,” he grinned. “If there is any way I can assist, I will.”

The smile you shared warmed your entire body, bringing heat into your cheeks. The two men let you leave first, then followed you. Seonghwa a few feet away, you walked beside Hongjoong. For the smallest of moments, you pictured yourself and him at the altar. In another life, perhaps a marriage arrangement between Hanseong and Wonju would’ve happened. Sookmyung being the elder might’ve been put forward, but if Hongjoong didn’t like her, as the groom, he could decline. He would’ve picked you instead. The image of a seething Sookmyung hiding nearby, watching Hongjoong help you into your palanquin, gave you pause. In that other life, she’d be equally jealous. She’d plot ways to kill you then like she must be doing at this moment.

“Don’t be nervous,” you heard Hongjoong say. “You’re going to do well.”

“Am I?”

Better to let him think you’re worried about the advisors rather than the person planning your demise right now.

“Yes,” he said, “And you’ll have Seonghwa and I to help you.”

This certainly made you feel better. “It might be intimidating at first,” Seonghwa said from beside you. “They’re all ambitious men who will want their voices heard. They’ll each have their own ideas and opinions about how we should proceed from here on out. There’s likely to be arguing and objections, but in the end, it’s all your decision where things go.”

“That’s…not helping, Seonghwa,” you said with a soft nervous laugh.

“He’s only preparing you,” Hongjoong consoled you. “I used to go with my father to his meetings when I was small. I sat there and listened to all these powerful men disagree, shout over one another, and argue over whose idea was the best. It was my father’s job to help these men all come to an agreement. There’s going to be a lot of compromises and negotiations, since some of these men will have more than the kingdom’s interest in mind. It’s up to you to decide what routes to take.”

“And we’ll be right there if you need someone who won’t gain anything from this meeting,” Seonghwa assured you.

Your nerves still buzzed in your stomach as the doors to the advisor’s room opened. Wonshik sat at the far end of the table, with Heechul, Taeyong, Daewon and Junhan taking up the sides. All of them stood when you and Hongjoong arrived. He took up an empty seat next to you, while you sat at the head of the table across from Wonshik. The old man looked at you with a proud smile.

“Good Morning, Your Majesty,” he said. “It is refreshing to see the ruling monarch sitting with us at the council table again.”

“And I plan to come to as many of these as I can,” you replied. “I have asked Seonghwa and Prince Hongjoong to join us.”

“As expected,” he nodded. “Her Majesty may invite whoever she believes will be fit to give his opinion on important matters.”

“Enough pleasantries, Wonshik,” gruffed Junhan, Master of War. “We have many things to discuss.”

“Ask for a progress report in locating Sookmyung,” Hongjoong leaned over and whispered.

“I’d like to know where we are in finding Sookmyung,” you said to the council.

“We’ve been unable to locate the former queen,” Junhan, Master of War, answered. “We believe she has fled with her allies, but no idea as to where. Gongju is closest to us, so it is likely she will travel there first. We already have scouts seeking her out, Your Majesty, and Prince Hongjoong has sent word to the rebel leader to place spies in their courts. She will come out of the woodwork eventually. Once she hears of our plans to crown you as queen, she will act on impulse and behave rashly. If we’re lucky, we can use that rashness to our advantage.”

“And of the dukes who remain in the palace?” you asked.

“They’ve all pledged their loyalty to you, Your Majesty,” Wonshik answered. “When your coronation comes, they will make public vows in front of the entire court, but for now, our alliance is still intact. That aside, those lords will wish to talk about trades with you once this is all over. They’ll want something in return for their continued alliance.”

“You will also have to prove you won’t turn into your sister,” Heechul added. “We all know you are far from being her, but they do not know you as we do, Your Majesty.”

“Unfortunately, treating with nobility is a lot harder than pleasing the common folk,” Wonshik said.

“What sort of things would they ask for?”

“Nothing outrageous,” he dismissed. “Land, titles, treaties or gold.”

“I know for a fact that Daegu is going to ask to lower port fees,” Taeyong, Master of Ships, said. “Sookmyung’s taxes and fees on local merchants are far too high and it makes trading between the coastal cities difficult. This puts a heavy burden on the lords there.”

“Iksan will ask for more military power,” Junhan added. “They have had lots of run ins with outlaw groups raiding their trade routes.”

“Starving citizens,” Daewon, Master of Law, said. “A lot of the so-called ‘bandits’ the guard picks up are people in need. Lowering taxation on resources like food and clothing will make merchants lower their own prices so people can afford to buy them.”

“We’d need a near overhaul of the economy for that to happen,” Heechul argued. “The coppers are plenty but not unlimited, Do.”

“Then perhaps it’s time there was one,” Daewon retorted. “Sookmyung’s financial plans always centered on the elite. I know I personally can afford to pay my taxes. Can you say the same, Kim?”

“I can-”

“-Intervene,” Seonghwa whispered to you hurriedly. “You have to keep them on track before this gets louder.”

“My lords,” you spoke up, stomach churning when they immediately stopped. “If….If an overhaul is what we need to get our people fed, then we’ll make sure it’s done. Our people are starving in squalor. We must do what we can to help them.”

“There are lords around these parts who might not be happy with having their taxes raised,” Daewon said, still eyeing Heechul.

“They’ll survive,” you said right away. “I’ve seen how these lords and ladies live. A small increase will not kill them.”

“Not many lords or ladies will like having their taxes raised,” said Wonshik. “What would you do if they refuse?”

You thought about it for a moment, then said, “I’d compromise with them until we came to an agreement.”

“And if they didn’t budge? What then?”

“I…” you struggled to think of a proper solution, “Well, I’d keep going until they did.”

“You could lower their contribution amount,” Hongjoong answered. “If we raised both their contribution to The Crown and their taxes, they’ll revolt for sure. But, if we lower their contributions, they’ll be more inclined to pay the tax instead.”

“Yes, that,” you agreed, nodding.

“There's also the problems in the smaller villages, Your Majesty,” Wonshik said. “They do not have access to clean water or proper resources for housing. I recently visited a village just outside our walls that was raided by bandits. Houses burnt down, children slaughtered, families torn apart. The people need our help, Your Majesty. They want to know what The Crown will do to help them.”

“We will do the best we can,” you told him.

Sookmyung’saggressive laws caused a ripple effect you never imagined. Every decision she made trickled down to the lowest citizens, the poorest getting the worst of it. You attentively listened to each man’s thoughts, taking it into consideration and seeing if it aligned with your own wishes. Seonghwa and Hongjoong managed to placate the men whenever they grew too heated with each other, but otherwise the group kept things civil. After much back and forth, arguments, rebuttals and objections to each other’s proposals, you and the advisors finally came up with new laws and changes.

They voted on lowering property taxes on the poor and raising the ones on the rich. But, the amount of tribute required by each lord will also be lowered to avoid said lords raising taxes on their own lands. Advisor Heechul insisted this will lift many people out of poverty over time. Imported goods will remain the same, but exports will be raised to bring in more money. In the meantime, a portion of the “royal crops” would be given to the people.

The “Queenswood” surrounding the palace and city will no longer be off limits. Hunters would be encouraged to explore the land freely; any extra game they wish to trade will not be taxed by the crown. Speaking with Advisor Daewon, the both of you agreed that removing the fences and guard towers at the borders was the first step.

With Junhan, the city guard would resume their patrols on the streets, replacing the military presence. He agreed that the formal city guards would lower fear amongst the citizens, and the military can focus on their real purpose. The corrupt leaders extorting the smaller businesses wuld be rounded up alongside the slum lords and be punished accordingly. The both of you agreed that your people should feel safe in their own kingdom.

“These steps may be small,” Advisor Wonshik said at the end of the meeting, “But their impact will be large. The people need to see that their new queen wishes only the best for them.”

They agreed to put everything into action immediately. When you left the advisors, Hongjoong went to speak with Wonshik alone, which left you with Seonghwa. Your handmaidens and guards nearby, you become increasingly aware of their constant presence. Before, it never bothered you since Sookmyung was their focus, but that changed. You are their priority now, and you still did not know how to feel about that.

“Do they have to follow me all the time?” You asked Seonghwa in a low whisper.

“It's advisable that they stay at your side for now,” Seonghwa said, “But if you'd like, I can send them away for a while.”

You'd been about to answer when a foul scent caught in your nose. You recognized the scent right away as it grew stronger. The stench of the dungeons was unmistakable to you. Walking away from the royal offices, you went ahead of the group into the main courtyard. It became more pungent as you drew closer to the jail. There, you saw Hongjoong talking with the head physician, an older man named Yoon. Soldiers carried people out of the jail on stretchers to blankets laid on the ground. You clasped your hands over your mouth.

Perhaps it was the darkness and your own discomfort that made the number seem so small. But now, standing several yards away, you saw dozens of victims. Men and women laid out groaning and weeping in pain as physicians treated those they could. The faces that once haunted you in your dreams now came to life. Tears welled in your eyes seeing the people you watched be broken. It is your fault. You should have helped them sooner. You should have stopped her. You had plenty of opportunities, but you'd been paralyzed by your own fear.

“Your Majesty,” Seonghwa’s voice came to you softly, “You don't have to see this. Let's go to the hare-”

You ignored him and walked towards the first body on the ground. A young man covered in filthy, bloody rags laid shivering. You recognized him immediately: the young man Sookmyung hung from the ceiling with weights. You moved closer to him, hearing his haggard breathing and whimpering, and knelt down. He’d been the stableboy who tended to Sookmyung’s horse. When her newest mare fell ill and died, Sookmyung blamed him for not maintaining its health. Of course, this accusation was ridiculous, but that never mattered to her. You gently brushed matted hair from his forehead.

“How bad is it?” you asked the physician attending to him.

“Very bad, Your Majesty,” he answered, dabbing disinfectant on the wounds. “Several bones are broken or dislocated. I managed to put them back in place, but some of the injuries have become infected from the conditions below.”

“Will he live?”

“With some medicine and rest, he may be able to begin recovery. He is one of the lucky few who have such a chance.”

You looked down at the dazed man, and said, “What is your name?”

“Kyun-Kyungwoo,” he croaked an answer.

“You are safe now, Kyungwoo. I swear it.”

“No, no, no! Don’t! Don’t!”

Your head shot up at the panicked voice. Two rows away was a young woman flailing her arms at the man trying to tend to her. You realized the man was Yunho, wearing a beige overcoat tied at his waist. The long black hair he often left down was tied into a top knot, held with a pin to keep it from his eyes. Gently, he took hold of the woman’s hands to steady them.

“Sookmyung is not here anymore,” you heard him gently reassure her as he held onto her hands. “She cannot hurt you.”

“She-She sent you!” she screamed hysterically. “She’s playing a game! A trick! She sent you to make me think she’s helping me! Don’t heal me!”

“I have to. You’re injured, and your wounds are infected.”

You left Kyungwoo’s side and went over to the pair. Right away, you understood the woman’s distress. “Insook,” you said her name softly, kneeling beside her, “Insook, please hold still. He cannot wrap your wounds if you’re moving so much.”

Wide, panicked eyes flitted over to you. Insook, a cook in Sookmyung’s kitchen, was accused of putting poison in her soup recently. Black strands of hair sticking to her sweaty forehead, blood dried on her fingers and stained her thin tunic.

“YN!” she gasped your name, grabbing your collar t bring you closer, “Tell him! Tell him what she’s doing! You know! You always knew!”

“Insook,” you uncurled her fingers from your jacket, then said, “Sookmyung is gone. She isn’t here anymore. You are not going back into the cells. I promise you.”

“Lies! She’s letting me out only to put me back in! She did it last time! I’m not a fool!”

“If that were true, she wouldn’t have her Flower attending to you, Insook.”

“Fl-Flower?” She glanced over to Yunho, who nodded “Wa-wait. You’re…You’re one of hers…”

“I was,” Yunho nodded, “But not anymore. You're not hers either. Now, please,” he gingerly took her injured hand, “Let me start here. These are the worst of them.”

“No!” she pulled her hand away, “YN, tell her I didn’t let him touch me! Tell her I was a good dog! I didn’t-”

“-YN, give me that jar right there.”

Yunho nodded to a small glass jar near a leather satchel. You picked it up and handed it to him. Yu watched him pick out one of the small white nubs inside, then hold it to Insook’s bloody nose. It took several sniffs before her cries quieted, her eyes rolled back and she fell unconscious. You looked up at Yunho.

“Sookmyung used to release some prisoners,” you said, “And then recapture them right when they thought they were free. She said watching the hope leave their eyes made her feel alive.” You smoothed hair from Insook’s head, the rancid stink of the dungeons coming off her. “How bad is she?”

“A few broken bones, some whip lashes on her back, but she’ll be fine with some rest,” he told you, starting to work on her missing fingernails. “Forgive me for leaving guard duty, Your Majesty. Physician Yoon asked me to come help him when Queen Jisoo started summoning the physicians. I’m a better healer than a fighter, I’m afraid.”

“Good, we need more healers at the moment,” you replied.

“Considering how many people are here, that’s more than true. Your Majesty-”

“-YN, please-”

“-YN,” he nodded, “I knew Sookmyung was awful but…I didn’t believe it was like this. Some of the injuries these people have are horrendous. One man had scorpion and spider bites all over his body; one of the other physicians said he must’ve been in there for days.”

The Box. You hated thinking about it. “I’m sorry you had to witness all of it,” he said, looking away from his work to meet your eyes. “I can’t imagine what seeing this does to someone. I’m glad it never changed you.”

You’d given him a small smile when a small voice croaked out your name. Another familiar face, a young boy with a bandage over his eye and a physician putting a cast on his left leg, broke your heart. Immediately, you scooted over to him and lifted his head to rearrange the pillow underneath. Jiwoon, arrested for poaching in Sookmyung’s forest like so many others, would never see out of his right eye again.

“Hello Jiwoon…” you said, looking over his cracked lips and hollow cheeks.

“Is it true?” he asked in a hoarse voice. “Are we really free?”

“Yes, it’s true.”

“I can see my papa now?”

“I’ll make sure someone tells him you’re here,” you said, remembering the boy’s father as a palace guard. You picked up a water canteen nearby, “Here, drink this.”

You tipped his head to help him drink, heart aching as you listened to him gulp the water. Nearby, you saw one of the guards watching over the scene and called him over. You ordered him to find Jiwoon’s father, then told another palace servant to send a message to the kitchen.

“Broth and bread,” you said, “As much as they can make.”

This went on for some time. People who looked on might be seeing a queen trying to build up an image, but that wasn’t your intention. Each person you comforted healed a piece of you; you hoped it healed a piece of them as well. They’d spent days wallowing in pain and suffering. You prayed they found a shred of hope in your gentle words and assurances.

Once you saw the last of the living, you looked upon the dead. So many. It sickened your stomach and brought tears to your eyes. Seeing one woman in particular, you remembered your helplessness. You couldn’t save her. You couldn’t save any of them no matter what you’d said. Sookmyung always laughed at your softness, saying that she’d make you strong one day. As you walked amongst the dead, those who’d loved them started walking onto the courtyard. Servants who’d waited for word about their loved ones wept openly, crying over the injured or deceased.

You’d finished consoling the daughter of one of the victims when you noticed her. A young woman laid a few feet away in all black. She bore all the signs of Sookmyung’s usual methods, but you didn’t remember her face. What drew you closer was Hongjoong gravitating to her first. Then, you suddenly remembered her: the assassin from the garden.

“Naeun,” Hongjoong said when you reached him. “She was the assassin Sookmyung tortured the other night. She was from Wonju.”

“She was the woman you’d meet in the garden,” you said, more a statement than a question. When he looked over at you, you said, “I remember overhearing you with someone. I never told anyone because I feared what Sookmyung might do to either of you. I thought she was a lover you’d somehow met, not a spy.”

“She was my contact, yes,” he nodded. “I was giving her information I learned from Sookmyung. It was easy because she spoke about her plans so freely in front of us. I couldn’t leave here, so being an informant was the best way to help my people.” He bit his inner cheek, then said, “I can’t let her death be in vain, YN.”

“It wasn’t,” you said, touching his hand. “You are a prince again, and that’s only the first step.” You then realized something. “I’m sorry you witnessed her death. Sookmyung never went easy on anyone. If she thought Naeun wanted to kill her, she likely made it worse.”

“She never gave in. She didn’t say a word no matter how terrible the torture.”

“She was stronger than most I’d seen, then. Sookmyung preyed on the weak, but she loved breaking the strong. Naeun must’ve not wanted to give her the satisfaction of believing she’d won.”

“None of Changbin’s rebels would,” he said. He withdrew a necklace, the winged dove charm broken into two pieces. “This was hers,” he explained, putting the charm on her chest and placing her hands over it. “She used it to pass a message to me the night she died. I think it meant something to her.”

You sat with him as he looked over the woman one more time. While you did not witness Naeun’s death, it still joined the hundreds stained on your heart.

“She hurt so many people,” you said quietly, standing with Hongjoong but not looking away from the scene. “Not just in her dungeon, but all over the kingdom. She’d driven families into starvation, turned children into orphans and let her city become a crime-ridden slum. Nobody was safe regardless of distance. She’s likely hurting someone now because of how angry she is.” You didn’t want to imagine who’d become her newest victim. “If she came back into power, she’d be much, much worse.”

“Which is why she can’t come back,” Hongjoong said, “And she won’t.” He looked at the victims with you, “What shall we do with them, Your Majesty?”

“Heal them,” you said. “Prepare them for burial. Tell the people that we’ll be holding a funeral procession for them on their way to the gravesite.”

“What gravesite?”

“The one I’m going to have made for them. There are people here who need work, and we can pay them to dig graves for her victims,” you said, the plan forming in your mind. “It can be in honor of their memory. They can be buried in a place of light and beauty, instead of rotting in the dark. There’s a lovely spot outside the city that can be open to the people. We can send declarations around the kingdom so family members may come see them.”

“A memorial to them,” he said, “And the people she’s indirectly hurt too. Wonshik and Jisoo will love the idea. It’ll show people you’re not the monster she is.”

“That isn’t why I want to do it,” you repeated your words from the meeting.

“No, it isn’t, but it doesn't hurt.”

You remembered each person. The baker who’d mistook her instruction for red bean as black bean. The seamstress who’d accidentally nicked her skin when fixing a hemline. The merchant who boldly proclaimed her taxes as unjust and the young woman who’d begged for her husband’s life. You’d made it a point to learn their names. Many times, you’d cradled a head as they whispered it to you. Being amongst them now, hearing their groans of pain, your eyes stung at the memories. Sookmyung could not return. She could not be allowed to continue on like this should she come back to power. You wouldn’t let her.

****

A/N: heeeyyy look what's back! I'm really glad to be back on this one. There's more to come so stick around! <3

#ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #kim hongjong #park seonghwa #matz ateez #ateez matz #hongjoong ateez #seonghwa ateez #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #ateez smut #ateez angst #ateez x reader #pirateeznet

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casssmalefantasy · 2 days ago

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team usa: the series — paige bueckers x oc!

ii. looks that linger— when late nights turn into something more. something quieter. charged. the lines between teammates blur, and maybe it’s not just friendship anymore.

s: ivy’s watching more closely now. she doesn’t mean to, but paige laughs a little too hard at someone else’s joke and it stings. across the space between them, paige leans on azzi for clarity, for cover, for a way to make sense of the feelings she’s not ready to name. they’re both waiting—both wondering if the other feels it too.

w: slow burn tension, jealousy, emotional confusion, language, soft flirtation, late night thoughts, and avoidance.

word count: 2.8K

last part | part two of “looks that linger”

part one of: “looks that linger”

ivy’s pov

the weeks between training and then actual practices blurred together—long days, late nights, and everything in between.

me and paige? we found a rhythm.

sometimes i’d wake up and she’d already be up, stretching by the window in a hoodie and shorts, headphones in, mouthing the lyrics to a drake song.

i pretended not to watch her some mornings. but i did.

other times, she'd toss me a protein bar before practice without saying a word. like she already knew i skipped breakfast.

i started noticing things.

how she tugged on the drawstrings of her hoodie when she was nervous.

how her eyes flicked down to my mouth when i spoke too long.

how she'd choose the seat next to me even when there were others open.

nothing major.

just enough to drive me insane.

and for some reason, we found comfort within each other too.

there were little things that made me realize i liked being around her more than anyone else here.

sharing headphones on the bus.

ordering late night meals and snacks after practice.

laying in the dark and hearing her voice, sleepy and raw, telling me about pressure and expectations and how badly she wants to be great.

flashback. a week ago. after lights out.

we were laid out on top of the covers, legs stretched across the hotel bed, half-whispering like we were scared someone would hear us through the walls.

paige stared at the ceiling. "sometimes it feels like everyone’s already decided what i’m supposed to be.”

i turned toward her. “what do you mean?”

"like... uconn. wnba. gold medals. it’s like there’s already a plan for me that i didn’t even get to write,” she said, voice low. “don’t get me wrong—i want it. all of it. i just wish people knew how heavy it is sometimes.”

i didn’t say anything for a second.

“so uconn’s the move?” i asked softly.

she nodded. “yeah. i already committed. it’s been the goal forever.”

"that’s big.”

she glanced at me. “what about you?”

i sighed, tucking a hand under my head. “i’ve gotten offers, but… i don’t know. i wanna go somewhere that fits me. somewhere i can actually grow. i’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

she nodded. “makes sense.”

“your pressure comes from everyone else,” i said. “mine’s more... internal. i didn’t grow up with a highlight reel. i only started getting noticed this year.”

"yeah, but you belong here. you’re good. really good.”

i smiled a little at the ceiling. “thanks.”

she rolled her head toward me. “i mean it. and wherever you end up—they’re lucky to have you.”

we were quiet for a beat. just the hum of the ac and our breathing.

“i just wanna make the right choice,” i said finally.

“me too.”

and maybe we weren’t just talking about schools anymore.

end of flashback.

—

“you talk more than i thought you would,” she said one night after practice, propped up on her elbow, watching me like i was a secret she wanted to figure out.

i hesitated, eyes on the ceiling.

"i don't usually. not like this."

"why now?" she asked, voice low.

i turned toward her, only seeing her silhouette in the dark.

"maybe it's 'cause you listen like it matters."

“maybe you’re easy to talk to,” i answered, not even thinking.

she was quiet for a second before whispering, “i feel the same way..”

it was like that. easy. natural.

but too natural for me to figure out what it meant.

we kept winning scrimmages. coaches kept praising both of us. we we already 3-0 in tournament so far.

but then things started to change.

the bus rides got quieter. not in a bad way. just... different.

paige stopped sitting next to me one morning. sat with azzi instead.

it wasn't on purpose, but it happened again the next ride. and the one after.

i told myself not to care. but part of me kept waiting for her to slide into the seat next to mine again.

she never did.

and then slowly, but shortly she started spending more and more time with azzi too.

i didn’t think anything of it at first. they were both funny. been friends for years. two peas in a pod. i got it. but it started to feel like they were sharing something i wasn’t part of.

and the more i noticed, the more it started to get under my skin.

paige’s pov

i stopped sitting next to ivy one morning.

no real reason. just… got on the bus and slid into the seat beside azzi instead. thought maybe she wouldn’t notice. or maybe she would. part of me hoped she wouldn’t.

i told myself it wasn’t a big deal. but then i did it again the next ride. and the one after that. and the one after that.

not because i didn’t want to sit with her.

but because i did.

and that was the problem.

ivy was getting noticed—not just by the coaches, but by everyone. teammates, media, the girls we played against. she was locked in. sharp. funny, too. and confident in this quiet way that made me forget what to say sometimes.

and when you start forgetting what to say around someone?

yeah.

that’s when you know.

so i avoided it. leaned on azzi instead. sat with her. kept my eyes ahead. tried not to look back when i heard ivy laugh from a few seats behind.

and it worked for like… five seconds.

—

we were in the hotel lobby waiting on extra room keys when azzi leaned over. “so. we’re doing the ‘avoid the girl i like’ routine now, huh?”

i blinked. “what are you talking about?”

she raised an eyebrow. “paige.”

“what?”

“you haven’t sat next to ivy in days and don’t act like you haven’t been glancing back every time she gets on the bus.”

i stayed quiet.

“just admit it,” she grinned.

i sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “i don’t know what’s happening. i just… i like her, okay? i didn’t mean to, but it’s like—suddenly, everything she does is in slow motion and now i don’t know how to act.”

“aw,” azzi smirked. “little paige bueckers caught feelings.”

“shut the fuck up.” i say jokingly

“i told you this would happen,” she said, way too proud of herself. “she’s cool. talented. cute. literally perfect banter material for you. i called it day one.”

i rolled my eyes, but i couldn’t fight the smile pulling at my mouth.

“it’s not that simple.”

“it is, actually,” she said. “you like her. she likes you. you’re both dumb about it. classic.”

i laughed a little. “thanks for the support.”

“and we don’t know if she likes me az.” i said seriously.

“anytime. also, she definitely noticed you’ve been sitting with me instead.”

“great.”

“so… what are you gonna do about it?” azzi asks.

i looked across the lobby, just in time to see ivy glance my way and then quickly look back down at her phone.

my stomach flipped.

“…figure it out,” i mumbled.

azzi just grinned. “good plan.”

✦ ✦ ✦

a few few days later

ivy’s pov

we were all crammed into the back room of a steakhouse the coaches picked for team dinner. i picked at my fries while the rest of the team buzzed around me. paige slid into the seat across the table—next to azzi. of course. i didn’t look over, but i could hear them laughing about something. the sound hit me like a brick.

“you and paige good?” someone asked beside me.

i blinked and turned to see jordan, the freshman guard, watching me like she knew something. “what?”

“i dunno.” jordan shrugged, chewing her straw. “you guys seemed tight for a minute. now you barely talk during practice. or like, at all.”

i forced a laugh. “maybe we just spend too much time together at the hotel. got sick of each other.”

“honestly,” jordan grinned, “that tracks. paige is paige. i don’t know how anyone can be around her that long without losing it.”

i laughed again, but it was thin. i looked down at my plate, my voice quiet. “yeah.”

my stomach twisted again, same way it had in the lobby earlier that week when paige looked at me like she didn’t know me anymore.

across the table, paige leaned into azzi’s shoulder, cracking up at something, and my chest tightened. i knew it wasn’t fair—i knew that—but it still felt like something was slipping out of my hands.

maybe i should talk to paige. ask what changed. or maybe… maybe i should just wait and see if she ever came to me. either way, it sucked.

paige’s pov

i was mid-story about our coach’s tragic karaoke performance when azzi elbowed me. “you still haven’t talked to her, huh?”

i blinked. “what?”

“ivy,” azzi said. “your roommate. your crush. the girl you have been actively pining for since this team started. ring any bells?”

“you’re so dramatic.”

“i’m so correct.”

i sighed and shoved a fry in my mouth. “i don’t even know if it’s a thing. it’s probably just like… a dumb crush. it’ll pass.”

azzi looked at me like i had two heads. “right. and i’m going to the wnba next week as a center.”

i snorted. “you’d foul out in the first quarter.”

“don’t change the subject.”

i glanced across the table. ivy was laughing at something jordan said, but it didn’t reach her eyes. i’d been trying to give her space—trying to cool down whatever mess was happening inside my chest—but it only made everything worse.

“i don’t know what to say,” i muttered.

azzi raised an eyebrow. “try: ‘hey ivy, i like you and it’s driving me insane.’ see how that goes.”

“yeah, let me not do that.”

but my gaze drifted back to ivy anyway. maybe i was being stupid. maybe this whole cold-shoulder thing was more obvious than i thought. i didn’t mean to make her feel like she did something wrong—i was just scared if i let myself get closer, i’d fall too hard to get back up.

and based on how much it hurt to sit across from her like this, maybe i already had.

author’s note: so i decided to split this into two parts so it wouldn’t be super long. don’t worry tho cause both parts are out right now. but feelings are sparking???

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #ncaa women’s basketball #paige bueckers x reader #azzi fudd #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x oc #caitlin clark #paige bueckers x black!reader #wlw relationship #friends to lovers

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keiiaq · 20 hours ago

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things to script: soft beauty ˚.🍨༘⋆

hey lovelies!! I have some good news coming up, so I thought i’d share it alongside a small apology.

i’m so sorry I haven’t posted as frequently as I normally do, I haven’t had much motivation on posting and I don’t want to push myself cause i’d most likely get into burnout which sadly takes long for me to recover from 🙁

now, for the good news.. i’m finally getting an ipad !!! i’m super happy about this cause I can now introduce some of my drself art on this account and it’ll be more accessible for me to use rather than having to keep everything on my phone! after this does happen, i’ll also probably change my theme too.

I actually have this for one of my dr’s so I thought i’d share it rather than gatekeep it since I know a lot of you guys enjoy the series :)

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢

“but I still love you babe. I know I shouldnt, but.”

✿* 🎼 : there’s a softness in you that makes the world hush without even realizing. you feel like quiet meadows, like the breath before a baby animal falls asleep. your presence is tender, warm, and doesn’t need to be loud to be felt. you calm the world like dew on petals or lace-filtered sunlight. your energy is like a forgotten lullaby — gentle, beautiful, and lingering. there’s something rare and comforting in the way you exist. people feel safe near you. they feel like they can rest.

✿* 🍨 : you move like a warm memory, like the scent of something familiar and loving. you’re not fragile, but delicate in a way that makes people want to treat you carefully. you are the kind of soul people don’t forget—not because you asked them to notice you, but because your softness stays in the room even after you leave. your presence makes people speak softer, move gentler, feel deeper. you make chaos slow down. you feel like early morning rain, chamomile fields, and lullabies without words. you remind people of kindness that doesn’t need to be spoken.

✿* 🩰 : you don’t demand anything — you just are, and that’s enough. people lower their voices around you out of respect for how sacred your softness is. your kindness isn’t something you perform. it’s something you radiate. and that softness has gravity. the kind that makes hearts lean in. you’re calm in a loud world. people feel fluttershy in you — not because you mimic her — but because you naturally carry that same sacred gentleness, that same quiet strength. your energy feels like a forest glade where nothing bad can reach.

✿* 🎼 : people don’t just think you’re sweet —they feel held in your presence. your vibe feels like early spring, like a trembling fawn standing up for the first time. you remind people of the warmth of holding something small and alive in their hands and knowing they must be gentle. you have fluttershy’s courage — the soft kind, the kind that stands trembling but still stands. your presence feels like satin wings, like sunlight through lace curtains, like whispering to animals who understand.

✿* 🍨 : your aura is like a love letter written in sparkly gel pen, like the hush after a lullaby, like bedtime stories whispered with too much heart. you remind people of old books with pressed flowers, of honey in warm milk, of whispering “thank you” with a voice that cracks. you are the kind of beauty that doesn’t shout — it glows. people want to protect you without knowing why. you’re the girl who wears lip balm more than lipstick, who says sorry to plush toys when hugging them too tight.

✿* 🩰 : you move like an edit in motion. like an anime lullaby on a rainy day tea party with stuffed animals. your softness doesn’t need to explain itself — it just wraps around people and makes them feel safe. you are vanilla-scented fur and cherry blossom wings. people don’t just see fluttershy in you — they feel her in the way your presence holds them gently. your energy is a whispered wish, a warm blanket, a soft tear from too much love. you're sacred, delicate, unforgettable.

✿* 🎼 : you remind people of whispered dreams, trembling hearts, and warm rooms full of quiet love. you are a flicker of pink in a gray sky, the hush before a vulnerable truth, a pause in someone’s chest that says “this is safe.” you make people want to believe in things again — guardian angels, love notes, and magic in the quiet. people don’t just notice you — they feel softened by you. you’re not loud, but you change the room. you are sweetness that still matters. the kind that heals. the kind that saves. you are this energy. you are this softness. you are this sacred.

✿* 🍨 : this isn’t just “you’re sweet” energy. it’s “you’ve been blessed by something ancient and gentle and people don’t know how to look at you without softening” energy. it’s forest-that-remembers-your-name energy. cottage-wrapped-in-fog energy. you feel like fluttershy if she were real and people accidentally fell in love with her soul.

⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣

thanks for reading!! this was a little lengthy but I just have a super specific mind when it comes to this aesthetic since I luv it sososo much :) the aesthetic and music just resonates with this so well.

happy shifting my lovelies!

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sailorshadzter · 3 days ago

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just another jon was raised as a targaryen piece.

The music is swelling, some Targaryen ballad she’s only heard a dozen times since her arrival South. Though, she supposes it’s better than hearing The Rains of Castamere, for possibly the thousandth time that day alone. Sometimes she’s forced to wonder if the musicians of King’s Landing knew any other songs at all. A sigh escapes and she turns away from the men dressed in Targaryen livery, instead choosing to focus her gaze upon the dazzling room she stands within.

Say what you wanted about him, Rhaegar Targaryen knew how to throw a party, and this one was certainly no different than all the others. He’s spared no expense for the nameday celebrations of his son and heir, Aegon, the somber-faced Stark looking boy many whisper could never be a Targaryen born child. How could he be, when he’s got not a single trace of those strong, usually unbeatable Targaryen genes? Others simply argue that the Stark genes are just that much stronger, though she’s left wondering if that’s just the way the universe did things sometimes. Look at her and her siblings, after all, almost no trace of Stark in any of them- save for Arya, of course, who was most often compared to Aegon’s own mother, their aunt Lyanna. Died too young, tragically young, her father had always said, but she was wild as Arya, no man nor beast could ever tame Lyanna. She wonders, as her eyes fall upon the King on his throne, if he thinks of Lyanna every time he looks at his son.

And she wonders if it breaks his heart each and every time.

“My lady?”

She startles, turning her eyes away from the throne, only to find herself staring back at the very man she’s been thinking of. “Your grace,” she utters, dipping him a curtsy, her yellow silk skirts fluttering with her sudden movement. “I did not see you before the celebrations began to wish you a happy nameday,” she continues as she raises herself back up, offering him a smile, not surprised when his solemn features do not even crack. “The celebration is quite lavish.”

He is unnerved by her beauty, even now when he’s spoken with her dozens of times since her arrival to King’s Landing. The yellow gown she wears is most becoming, with sweeping sleeves embroidered with gold ivy, its plunging neckline offset by the golden pendant she wears. Her red hair, which she normally wears long and loose, is instead pinned up in the most intricate of ways, a single comb of gold tucked neatly into the back. It was a comb his father had given to him some months ago, a token of his long dead mother, a token he’d chosen to give to his betrothed some weeks after her arrival. “My father overdoes it, as he always does,” Aegon says with a slight roll of his eyes, though somehow, his words sound almost good natured. Almost. “I’ve come to ask if you might share a walk with me?” Truth was, they’ve done their part for the evening, having shared one dance at the start of the evening.

Sansa blinks, surprised by his request, but she nods all the same, taking the arm he offers her so they might make their way across the room. She is hyper aware of the hundreds of eyes that watch them leave, alone, out the double doors and into the nearly empty corridor that will lead them to the back staircase, the old stone one that opens into the gardens. “It’s a beautiful night,” she comments as they step out into the darkness, the glow of the lanterns marking their path through the lush floral of the garden.

“Aye,” he replies, sounding more like her own father than he knows, a sound that is enough to bring tears to her eyes. He notices and she shakes her head as he slows them to a stop, turning so he might face her entirely. To her surprise, he reaches out a hand, tenderly catching a teardrop as it falls from her lashes. “I’ve upset you,” he says, quietly, but again she’s shaking her head, smiling up at him as she takes his hand into her own.

“You only remind me so much of my father, I find that sometimes I am homesick when I look at you.” She tilts her head as she looks at him, wondering for a long moment just when she’d begun to feel such a tenderness for the man she was to marry. Some time ago, she’d been sick with rage, with fear, in knowing she was to marry a man she didn’t know. All her life she’s wished to marry for love, to marry a man who cherished her beyond any doubt, to marry without any political alliance forged beneath their joint hands. Somehow… All of those feelings of discontent have faded away, the more she’s come to know him. “Yet…” She trails off, her hand slipping free from his so she might reach up, the tips of her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw, the stubble of his beard rough against her skin. “I find when I look at you I also can see my home.” She doesn’t know how, but both of these things can be true- she can be homesick for the life she once knew, for the family she’s left behind, but she can also find a new place in the world in him.

Home… He wonders why that word has always felt so foreign to him until he’s heard her lips say it. They’ve not known each other all that long, but he’s developed a connection to her that he knows he’s never felt before- a feeling he’ll never feel again, save for with her. “I always want to be that feeling for you,” he says softly, leaning his head in, forehead pressed to hers. She’s so close now that he can feel the curve of her lips when she smiles, letting out a breath that catches his heart in his chest. They’ve never been this close before and he can feel his heart beating so fast that surely she must hear it.

Before either of them can say another word, he kisses her, something he’s not yet done.

To his surprise, she’s kissing him back, the feeling urging him on; his hands, once awkwardly at his sides, slide into place, one at the small of her back, the other against the curve of her cheek, fingers twisting around a stray lock of her red hair. When they break apart a few moments later, they’re both breathless, she smiling broadly as she timidly shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “Sansa…” He speaks her name in such a way that it weakens her knees and he’s tightening his grip upon her waist. “Shall we return inside…?” He asks softly and she laughs, shaking her head. He gestures towards the stone bench that sits just a short distance away, tucked into an alcove of floral bushes, and this time she nods, allowing him to lead her towards it.

There they might sit awhile, both feeling that same soft, yet wonderful warmth of knowing they were home.

#jonsa #actuallyjonsa #jon x sansa #I wrote this #my writing

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keitheaverage · 2 days ago

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So full disclosure, when Power of Potluck was first announced and I saw the preview of ENA with her blue side having returned, I was almost a little... disappointed? Like, I had this feeling of "Why couldn't she have just had her Happy ending in Temptation Stairway where she and Moony got to keep their new favored forms forever? Is this a cruel rule of the status quo that tortured souls like Ena's can never heal?"

But then I watched the episode when it premiered, and... I got it.

For starters, the joy Ena received from Runas was only surface, skin-deep you might even say. Whatever's gone on in her life to make her that way didn't suddenly disappear with her sad side, it simply went quiet for a little while after making her wish.

Also, and this is more of a headcanon, but I figured that maybe any wishes made to the Great Runas only exist while those making their wishes dwell within it, therefore when Ena and Moony finally went back home after their little 10k-year sabbatical, they immediately reverted back to their original selves. Any so-called "progress" Ena made on the other side in regards to her mental health basically went away after she left. Her wish was voided and her sadness returned.

In canon, it would seem that she carries a bit of shame over her sad side's outbursts. And if my hc has any truth to it, the blow-back from all her sadness coming back to her was probably all the more jarring and painful for her to live with. Naturally she would grasp at the first thing that would help her hide her sadness away from people: the mask. And like her Runas wish, it probably worked for a while! She was normal again! For a while.

Her wish in TS numbed her sadness. The mask numbed her emotions fully. She tried to take shortcuts to healing her sadness for everyone's comfort and convenience (including her own), but none of them stuck. None of them were actually making her feel better. Only when she decided to take the uncomfortable steps of seeking out real help for her emotions, in this case finding and speaking to the therapist in POP, could she really begin that healing process in earnest.

So, like, I get why TS could not be the last episode of the series. I get why POP was made. In fact, POP is now one of my favorite S1 ENA episodes next to TS. Certified Good For Her™ Cinema, in my book.

In regards to my own headcanons and past artwork, I think all the stuff I've drawn of her and Moony in the past can still comfortably exist without having to pull too many strings. Although I think I'd have to leave their fankids behind in the Great Runas' Domain. :n( Though whether they stayed behind willingly or were simply not allowed by the Powers That Be to leave with their mothers... idk if I'm THAT cruel, but who knows. ;n) Regardless, canon doesn't mess with my fanon timeline too much, not yet, anyways.

Either way, I had to refresh Ena's post-series look to accomodate for her blue side returning. I also just wanted to see what she'd look like with that bobbed-hair-with-long-braids look, I thought it'd suit her vibe of embracing her different sides, being more at a more natural emotional equilibrium. I also also thought it'd be cute if Moony gifted her the earring I used to draw her humanoid form wearing.

#ena #ena joel g #ena fanart #ena dream bbq #ena power of potluck #power of potluck #kei's average art tag

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darlin-dearest · 16 hours ago

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Love what I saw and went to research more because I love when games subtly use history and

Op was right on the monaaay✨😩👌

So as we can see they’re falling from the sky, and not jumping on the ground, which is why you can only see when you pause. Apparently they were used as a weapon and were made carrying an actual plague and maybe when ENA was human she had contracted this disease, as human ENA looks absolutely sickly and pale. But the thing is fleas develop.

LET ME FINUSHSHSHSH

So fleas have these stages, but it’s important to see how they develop, which one way is carbon dioxide and not to say they develop THROUGH but WITH, as humans inhale oxygen and exhale the carbon dioxide. And with ENA being in this time period and in the middle of WW2 they had developed sporadically with the help of their surroundings. Bombastic.

ALSO this time period is so important because this certain pandemic was NOT in Japan, they were the one that executed that attack onto China! Which may mean ENA is Chinese.

And the symptoms!! Thirst was not listed, but at this same time water pipes had not existed (as the year was 1940) so they relied on natural sources, I saw a reply saying seeing the fleas made ENA feel thirsty. But it was not a symptom of the plague but rather the flea being a reminder that at that time the water had been contaminated by them so water was scarce.

Also the symptoms are extremely similar to what ENA experiences upon reaching the bathroom, dizziness and staggering gait especially. I know you’re like “but she walked just fine” but she couldn’t get it together to cross the river. She PHYSICALLY couldn’t cross the river, her vision was hazy and jumping made it worse. Also the eye bags and the dribble on her indicate she was very sickly. Speaking of the dribble, another symptom being pain and swollen in the lymph nodes, which can be located in her throat, it probably hurt her to swallow. Also and most importantly the color of her skin. The green of it heavily implies her body is dead, now how it happened is unknown, it could be this flea plague or something more, with the hole in her stomach it definitely has potential for something bigger. Maybe even buggier.

Stay with me now, the red smoke, is DEFINITELY 100% military based. The color red a majority of the time, in China, means many things positive. Luck, wealth, love. But here? We ain’t serving that. Military signals from both Japan and China. (Heavily looking at Kane) now I don’t know if you listen in history class.(🫵you better) But during WW 2 alliances were formed. The axis and allied powers, so don’t go thinking that just because they have similar aesthetics mean that they are on the same side cause they were NOT. This red smoke signals mean friend or foe, now which belongs to this red I cannot find.

Hence why there’s so much smoke everywhere, I feel like that area is where she died and BECAME ENA. It could’ve just been the wrong place at the wrong time and she got caught with whatever happened, OR the fact that the door is a bed may mean that this flea epidemic is what done her in and she passed on the bed in her sleep. In war you can go out in many ways. And as much as I wish the ENA being a soldier theory was true I’m seeing these connections less and less for now. So let’s discuss more on ENA and her time period.

As previously stated it seems she’s between 1940-1945, as that’s when WW2 started and ended. Now China and Japan were going THROUGH it. As of which side ENA is on I’m still not sure as there’s little to no clues, even in her clothing. Not much to go off of. Now I want to look more into her relationship with Froggy, what do frogs represent in both countries?

For Japan it has a lot of positive meanings. Good luck, prosperity, and a safe return.

But Chinese has an equal of positive and negative. The similarity of prosperity, fertility (heavily staring at the wizard saying the human was ENAs baby…) the Lunar Yin which is representing the feminine and passive aspect of the universe and can even wish good fortune in business and most importantly transformation. And the negative notion of the frog representing narrow mindedness, shortsightedness, even presumptuous or arrogant nature along with a saying “frog in a well” which describes someone with a very limited perspective and understanding of the world, one could even say closed minded and is straight sided.

Is it a reach to say that this is both sides of ENA? That the Chinese representation of ENA is this.

And see how they say that there is even a god that is a frog, which shows how significant frogs will be in this game. There are good things and bad things about these gods. And the one that sticks out to me is the one that the people fear, and the reasoning being that this god appears to them in their dreams. In ENAs dreams. In the beginning when froggy is talking to us, but is nowhere to be found. How odd?

Now maybe froggy is a positive thing on ENA and her business, maybe even when she was human she worshipped these same gods, as said here that they also had a religion of Folk, which means deities associated with nature and fatality. (Which the more as I go, it seems to be a constant topic with the frog thing.)

The more I look the more I can associate with ENA being Chinese or having Chinese background. Now it’s up to you to believe or go by these theories, but for now it’s just a theory. (A game theory🫵)

In the very beginning of the game i thought that those red drops were just blood rain or smth like that. But it turned out to be JUMPING FLEAS. They can be seen when you pause the game at the right moment. Remember Froggy saying that the second location (where he sits all the time) smells like NAPHTHALINE?? I remeber that there was a flea-related epidemic in Japan. Maybe it even can be connected with The Third Plague Pandemic. And so maybe NAPHTHALINE was used to get rid of those FLEAS???

The other theory connected with the NAPHTHALINE: Japan used naphthaline as an impurity in chemical weapons during World War II, especially during the invasion of China. Naphthalene was used to create smoke mixtures and increase the toxicity of chemicals. And since chapter one most likely tells us the story of an object (ENA), programmed for military purposes, I adhere to this theory mostly. What do you think?

#froggy ena #ena taski maiden #ena fandom #ena dream bbq fanart #ena #ena x reader #ena joel g #ena fanart #Ena Kane #ena coral glasses #ena satsuki #ena dream bbq #ena art #ena oc

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hbheavensent · 2 days ago

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Beelzebub/Vortex

Boy oh boy they are so deceptively healthy!!! Let's get into it ⋆.˚

For Bee's design, I really wanted to keep her general "overwhelming" look. I've always sorta loved how Beelzebub looks, it makes a lot of sense for the Gluttony Sin to be A LOT to look at. That being said, I took away her fire motif as that is sorta given to too many characters and I changed her colors to match her "formal" look (which I HEAVILY prefer). I also put a little splatter marking around her mouth like she has food on her muzzle, which I think is sorta cute :333 ALSO I wanted to bring in the BEE in her design, esp her Big Fuckoff Demonic form. So I turned her normal tail into a little stinger in both looks and kept the antenna on her ears. I also decided a horrible maw of teeth on the underside of her tummy is a good move, just in general it adds some body horror. Also, naturally, I put some meat on her bones and she will no longer be ✨weirdly fatphobic✨. She can be chubby and still the hottest girl in the room and it's weird that she was skinny in the first place. As for her personality, I still want her to be surface level very pleasant and fun loving. For sure some mean girl vibes and very manipulative as all temptations are. She's the type to get someone high and one they're having a Shitty Time to leave them alone because they're a "buzzkill". Her dating Vortex is a majority because she's bored and she's had other partners in the past. Of all of the sins she's the one that "hangs with the color class" the most. Once Vortex doesn't scratch that itch for her, she'll be gone pretty quickly without a any real explanation. She's always chasing honey so to speak, a new high. I also wanted to focus in on her making The Pounds in Gluttony for Hellhounds, like I touched on in Loona's post. She not only is the reason for so many orphans/unwanted Hellhound pups, making parents of these kids be in compromised positions and having them addicted to substances, but she also made the shithole that the pups would go to. And while there's something to be said about her making the thing in the first place, she only cared enough to create the idea and not monitor it, why would she? Hellhounds live and die so fast, she's eternal, it's a speck to her despite her having more empathy than most sins.

At the very least, she's not judgmental, she knows that it certainly isn't her place to be. This is also probably a good place to talk a bit about what I'm doing WITH the sins. I'm going with the telling of them being former Angels that fell after The Apple Thing. Lucifer being the only one acting of his own volition to DO The Apple Thing and basically groom Lilith and Eve into a relationship before they even had FREE WILL (why does not one talk about that?? help????) Anyway, Bee was the third to fall and it was mostly due to messing with Earth's Plants and MAKING illicit substances able to be made. * I MIGHT change that, since in The Bible, Beelzebub falls because they go against Adam's wishes but it doesn't make sense with the timeline I'm workin with * The Sins are destined to be what they are the second Sin is created, Beelzebub can't help how she acts as much as Mammon couldn't help picking up a dollar on the ground. It's a compulsion at the end of the day and an eternal punishment that SOME have taken better than others. Bee is a prime example of leaning into it fully and trying to keep upbeat, sure she may never see Heaven again but she's having a hell of a time. Just hope she never gets sober or has a party go poorly because THAT is when it's dangerous. (I plan to showcase this eventually and give her a reason to dislike Loona/Blitz). But there's more Sin Stuff to get into laterer and NOT right now. AS FOR VORTEX, my sweet boy. I always really liked how normal he was in cannon. Just a Good Dude who can be a bit silly, which is exactly the type of guy Bee would go for (this century). Vortex comes from an Actually Together Family in the Lust ring and still works for Verosika as a guard when she's in Hell (currently reworking succubus magic so we'll get there when we get there). So, due to his family, Vortex is accidentally sort of ignorant of how MOST Hellhounds live. Loona has a earring in her ear where her Pound Tag was ripped out, Vortex has a earring there because he saw a bunch of other Hellhounds doing that and only realized after that fact because of Loona WHY Hellhounds have earrings there. Vortex also sorta fell into this relationship with Bee, and he very much sees it more seriously than she does. I don't think Loona talking to him about it would be enough to convince him that Bee is a bad person, sorta has rose colored lenses on for his girlfriend, but this is a DOOMED relationship. For Vortex's look, I didn't change much really- I just realized he looks SO much like Loona. Literally "siblings or dating". So. That sums up what I did with him besides what's literally in the image.

AND as a treat for such a longggg post-

Here's the silly height lineup we have so far

#helluva boss critical #helluva redesign #hazbin hotel critical #hbheavensentdesigns #helluva boss beelzebub #Vortex #vortex helluva boss #I love Vortex so much- our normal nice boy #helluva #helluva boss #helluva boss art #helluva boss rewrite #helluva boss redesign

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theallianceofcelestials · 2 days ago

Note

Can we get a MirrorSEA Moon and Solar Drabble of them being wholesome

One of your other post said that if MirrorSEA Sun were to get possessive he would just be annoyed with others taking away his time with Solar so maybe a mini Drabble of that

(Sorry for the long ask and these are not mandatory)

-🍓

Oh hon, don't worry about asks sizes! I love asks!

And I think I shall attempt as wholesome a Mirror SEA Moon and Solar drabble as I can! So it's gonna be a bit unhealthy still more than likely

This takes place after the near death experience of Solar

Solar will have to admit, almost dying sucked ass, but some end results were nice.

"Is there anything you need? I can get you whatever you want"

Like this one

"I want coffee. I haven't had coffee in months, I need my fix"

Moon just shakes his head with a chuckle, leaving him with a clearly disapproving Killcode. But his dad doesn't do anything to stop him, so all good.

It's nice to have his lunar uncle act more normally. Even if he's still a bit too grabby for his liking. But that can be forgiven, especially because he almost died.

"Coffee isn't good for you"

"But dad, just this once?"

Killcode sighs, but he doesn't argue. Instead he just presses a toothy kiss to his forehead, trotting off towards the kitchen probably to start dinner. The physical affection, while strange, is nice. Even if he can visibly see the discomfort of the giant sometimes.

"I put some chocolate syrup in it. Don't tell KC, or he might actually murder me"

Solar has to stomp down on the childish urge to whoop, focusing instead on keeping the steaming mug steady as he takes it. Moon still slips behind him to help steady his arms.

"I got this"

"The only thing you got kid is a slowly healing hole in your chest. Let me help you"

He sighs, but he knows he can't exactly fight it. If his insane uncle decides to do something, it's rather hard to stop him.

"Can you at least shimmy us to the side? I want to lay down"

Before he could even finish, Moon is already moving, repositioning them until they're reclined. He sighs as some of the discomfort that started sneaking in eases.

It's almost nice sitting here like this, taking the occasional sip of coffee that has more than just chocolate cyrup in it. Are those melted marshmallows?

His uncle really is spoiling him

"I didn't even think we had M&Ms"

"KC was hiding them in his baking cupboard. There're a couple things there juuuuust for you"

That means there will be cookies today! Or maybe even a cake!

He loves the cakes Killcode makes. He wishes he made more.

"Thanks for the coffee-"

"Don't even thank me kid. It's only natural. You almost died, but you were so good, you pulled through. It's only right uncle spoils you a bit!

Moon nuzzles into his rays, stopping to take in a couple deep breaths. Solar is unsure if he's smelling him for some reason, or if he's just reassuring himself. For all he knows, given Killcode and Bloodmoon's smelling, Moon can sniff out oil leaks.

They go quiet after that, just simply existing. He almost feels sad when the mug empties, but then navy hands are taking it from him, coming back to his shoulders to give them a good squeeze.

Solar purrs, leaning into the contact some more. He doesn't even care about the chuckle behind him, focusing wholly on the massage.

Somewhere in the middle of it, he doesn't know when exactly, Moon grabs a blanket from somewhere, wrapping him in it snuggly. Then he continues kneading at his shoulders and upper back, so it's all good.

Combined with the leftover taste of his coffee, the warmth of the blanket, he's not surprised to find himself dozing. Even if it's on Moon.

But there's nothing for him here to worry about, so he doesn't. He just continues enjoying the pleasant warmth, finally relaxing fully.

Moon's got him now, after all, so he will be fine.

#OurEssays #Moongleam answers #Scientist Eclipse's Adventures #Scientist Solar's Adventures #the sun and moon show #sun and moon show #tsams #sams #tsams solar #sams solar #tsams solar's moon #sams solar's moon #tsams moon #sams moon #tsams killcode #sams killcode

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blacksheep28 · 22 hours ago

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Badger flesh nagas are fascinating creatures. The way the fur turns to scales is beautiful. The complex burrows they create and cave in stone are artistic. And the fact the fur portion of their bodies does not grow along with them and is instead ripped off in giant bloody strips leaving them bare fleshed until it regrows whenever they shed their skin is incredible.

They tend to hunt down furred prey to create cloaks over their flesh while their natural fur regrows. If a certain skin is well liked they'll even bond it into their bodies, letting it become a natural part of their skin until they shed once more. Particularly artistic ones have beautiful coats created with careful selection of skins to drape across their bodies and bind in. The multitude of colors that can be created with it is stunning. The beauty of course never lasts. They grow and shed again, and are forced to tear off the fur they have grown.

The babies are cute. They are all monotone, in shades of black and grey. They still have their natural fur. It's only when they get older that they'll start binding in new skins to change their appearances.

I do wonder what an adult would look like that didn't pick any new skins to bind to them. Would they grow in fur that looks like the babies? Would it be a new shade entirely? Or perhaps it would mimic the old coat that they tore off previously?

I found a spot to hide out and peer down on them. It's a good thing that they prefer being nocturnal. I can watch them laze around in large piles snoozing without worries of being attacked. I wish they could talk and tell me about their beautiful fur skins.

#svsss #svsss au #rp #roleplay #open rp #open #story

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anxiousapplepie · 1 day ago

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Ah, if it isn't the eternal problem of your brain suddenly deciding to switch gears because this other story is much more appealing than what you should be working on for future project reasons. I intimately know this issue because my own characters / stories just love to pop up some days and demand all my attention or else. And unfortunately, I do not have much of a solution to offer. But I do have some words of comfort.

If you've been struggling with figuring out certain details of RK, or plot points or how one thing will transition into the next and so on, focusing on something else will give time for either something to come along to spark ideas for RK and help you precisely with what you're working on, or you listen to the lyrics of a music piece and suddenly you are thunderstruck! By inspiration. (Or maybe that one is just me.)

Anyway, I'm gonna make this problem worse and kindly ask for the details (and maybe basic plot) of the deliveryman in the post-zombie-apocalypse and his adorable robo dog. Keep it simple or be elaborate, dealer's choice. If it helps, I'll make sure to ask an RK question next if you very much need it.

"well well well, if it isn't the unpredictable whims of my brain! switching gears without warning and throwing all of my nicely laid plans off the table again!" XD Haha this ain't the first time my brain has switches fixations on a dime, and I know it won't be the last time either. It just!! took me by surprise, because I was drowning in Rose Knights and all of a sudden I've fallen into this old steampunk/apocalyptic story I forgot existed until 2 days ago??? Weird! Your comforting words have reassured me this is all okay tho <3 and I absolutely agree some time to focus on a different project will do me good. I think I've been forcing myself to pour all my creativity into RK for the last few weeks, and it's time I rebelled and did something else for a change. Even just a few days might make all the difference for my enthusiasm to draw again :3

Also how dare you attempt to make this problem worse for me, mate. HOW. DARE (I say, gladly wanting this excuse to talk about SD)

So! Special Delivery is about the adventures of a postman named Patrick, set in a steampunk / post-apocalyptic setting full of more types of undead than you can poke a stick at. Also robots are sentient sometimes!

Between all the natural dangers, the unnatural dangers, the supernatural dangers, and the crocodiles (they deserved their own category) being a postman is actually a bloody dangerous job. Moreso than the other types of dangerous jobs! But despite the risks, Patrick takes it upon himself to deliver the news and the mail to those who need his service. And there isn't anything he won't do to track someone down or keep a package safe until it arrives at it's destination.

Then there's Jemima, the robot dog that was built to protect and escort postmen on their rounds through the more dangerous parts of the wasteland and cities! She's a good girl, but unfortunately Patrick thinks he doesn't need a fancy metal dog to keep him safe. And Jemima really wishes Patrick would stop riding through zombie hoards and walking through deathtraps just to shave off 2 extra minutes of time on his "schedule". But she's deeply loyal, and Patrick won't deny giving this anxious dog a purpose in life. Even if that purpose is giving Jemima one [singular] letter to hold. XD

Obviously there's a lot more to it than this, but this is the gist of SD! And if you want to make my life more difficult and much more fun anyone is free to ask questions about this awful postman! In the meantime, thanks for giving me the opportunity to ramble about another one of my original stories!

#my art #Special Delivery #I think SD can be summed up as “Mad-Max. but from the perspective of the postal service and infinitely more funny”#yes there will be horrors and unbearable realities of men and nature #but also this man will be capable of walking away from a hallway of death-traps and holding out a pen like:#“please sign on the dotted line! Also your pitfall trap full of spikes and man-eating rats seems to be broken. Thought you should know.”#Teenage-Apple would be so ecstatic to see me obsessing about these dweebs again. So lets see where this goes! XD

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feuillesss · 3 days ago

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can you do how enhypen views jungwoon as their leader? tyty

How Enhypen Views Jungwon as a Leader

***DISCLAIMER***

I do not know these idols personally! This is just my interpretation of the cards that I pulled, please take this reading with a grain of salt. For entertainment purposes only.

( day/month/year - 15/04/25 )

How they view him:

Heeseung:

(star/pgowrev/qoswrev/6osw/3osw/5ow/7oprev)

Heeseung has a very nurturing energy towards Jungwon, he may want to be a person that he can lean on. He feels that Jungwon has a very easy time moving on from past situations or scandals that the group has been in, always keeping his sights on the horizon and working towards their future. Heeseung may feel that Jungwon isn't good at handling disagreements within the group, maybe opting to stay out of it when Heeseung believes he should be stepping in. He feels that Jungwon can be a little too cold or harsh when someone disagrees with him.

Jay:

(4oprev/10osw/WOFrev/5oc/Thesun)

The first thing that I heard was gatekeeper lol, maybe Jungwon has tips and tricks that he doesn't share with the others. Jay feels that the role of the leader has taken a mental toll on Jungwon, he could've been going through a difficult emotional period that was made worse by the added pressure. I don't think Jay thought Jungwon would be the leader or would want to take on that role. He feels like Jungwon has two sides; on one hand, he's very happy-go-lucky, keeping the mood up, and then he can become very gloomy and closed off. He wishes that Jungwon would open up to other people more, and lean on them when it comes to making decisions.

Jake:

(death/moon/devilrev/4oswrev/9opent/hermitrev)

Jake may see Jungwon as someone very mysterious and secretive about what he does. He feels that he's good at handling change and the fast nature of the entertainment industry. Jake may feel like Jungwon becoming a leader allowed him to step out of his shell and become more confident in himself. I'm not sure if these two are particularly close, but Jake views him as someone who works very hard for the team.

Sunghoon:

(TheFool/kniowrev/kiowrev/6oprev)

Sunghoon views Jungwon as a pretty positive person, which translates into his role in the group. He feels that he's good at keeping the mood and energy up within the group. He feels like Jungwon really thinks his decisions through and isn't someone who rushes into anything. Sunghoon appreciates how direct and upfront he is with his opinions; like he doesn't sugarcoat anything or just tell him what he wants to hear. However, he may view him as somewhat naïve. When it comes to decision making, Jungwon might be the type of person to value his own opinions and ideas over the rest, not taking into account how the other members feel; this could feel kind of dominating and suffocating for Sunghoon.

Sunoo:

(10ocrev/9osw/Judgementrev/chariot/hangedman/Kiocrev/7oswrev)

Sunoo might think that becoming a leader was a very transformative experience for Jungwon; maybe he takes pride in his role and takes his responsibility very seriously. He may have struggled with this workload and expectations within their career, honestly. Sunoo may not entirely trust or support Jungwon's judgement; he may think that he is naive when it comes to making decisions. He may think that Jungwon is too influenced by outside factors, but doesn't take the other members' ideas into consideration enough. There may be a bit of disconnection between the two. Sunoo may feel that Jungwon doesn't prioritise personal relationships within the team. Sometimes, he may feel that he's very harsh or cold with him.

Ni-ki:

(Strengtrev/Aowrev/pgoswrev/TheEmperorrev/aop/2op/Qop)

Ni-ki may think that Jungwon isn't firm enough in his ideas or opinions, kind of unreliable when it comes to backing himself up. He could feel like he's too young or naïve to lead the group. He feels there's a kind of lack of mental strength when it comes to Jungwon, maybe he leads in a way that doesn't match with Ni-ki's opinion of how he should. Ni-ki might think that he's good at balancing the workload of being an idol, and has good ideas when it comes to making money.

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 days ago

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Embrace The Dark Shades Of Life

Summary: The Addams Family Adopts Azula

For @subterraneanwatcher who has good taste in characters and put this idea in my inbox

She doesn’t know where she is or how she got here, doesn’t remember. But the people welcome her so readily. They are a terribly strange bunch and they call themselves the Addams.

She meets Wednesday first. She’s cute enough to a person who finds flutterbats and the like cute and Aula supposes that she does…not that she has ever put much thought into that sort of thing. She certainly has more of a connection to those sinister beasts that make people scream. Wednesday is a smart girl—Azula can see the intelligence in her eyes. Her eyes had been the first thing that Azula had seen when she opened her own to take in this strange new world that she finds herself in.

The girl had loomed over her. Poked at her, called to her brother to say that she had found a dead body.

Wednesday's brother, Pugsley, a plump boy with a bizarrely pleasant face. The boy has a cheerful nature to him that seems to contradict his macabre interests. The ones that his parents are more than happy to indulge.

His parents are pleasantly strange themselves. There is the darkly charming Gomez with his well groomed mustache and his flowery speech. And there is the woman who introduces herself as Morticial. She is tall and sleek with an angular face and long dark hair. Her makeup is striking and dramatic. With a pang in her heart, Azula acknowledges that Morticia reminds her of a more morbid Mai.

The manor that the woman welcomes her into smells of expensive perfume–likely an iris and rose blend, velvet, old leather, dust, and oak wood. It is gloomy and richly furnished with things that Azula has never seen before. There is a chandelier with candles of glass that flicker like the real thing. There are lamps whose shades are made of lace and full of dust and webs. Upon the bookshelves, between ancient tomes, are jars of specimens such as detached tentacles and toad eyes as well as polished stones and bat and wolf bones. The wall is decorated with grim photos–black and white family portraits hang alongside paintings of burning bodies and skeletons wearing dark cloaks and holding scythes. The creaky halls are lined with full suits of armor in a style unlike anything in the four nations. They also keep instruments of torture and display them as plainly as a kitchen table or a sofa. Most of the sofas in this house have white sheets thrown over them despite being used often.

The Addams are kind enough to her but the manor is terribly unsettling with all of its surprises—a detached and fully sentient hand and plants that may or may not have an appetite for human flesh.

“Settle yourself in, darling.” Morticia says after the tour is through. But for as lovely as the woman is, Azula doesn’t think that she will be able to do so. Not with the floorboards groaning the way that they do and the tree branches that scrape like screeches against the windows. She nods regardless, “I’ll try…”

The woman offers a warm smile. “If there’s anything that I can do to make you more comfortable, don’t be shy about requests. Perhaps you would like a cup of tea or some warm milk. Pugsley does like his warm milk, especially when there's a fly or two floating in it!”

Azula crinkles her nose.

“You don’t like flies in your drinks, dear?”

Azula shakes her head.

“Well that’s alright, we all have our own taste. More for Pugsley then.” She pauses in the doorway. “Gradmama makes the richest teas. I will have Lurch bring you a cup.”

“Who is Lurch?”

“Our butler. He is the most polite gentleman that anyone could meet—so long as they don’t meet Gomez.”

The woman practically swoons over his name and Azula finds herself wishing that she could meet someone who would speak of her like that.

“Have a gloomy night and dreams most dreary.”

Azula might have found herself offended had she not already taken a tour of the house. It is plenty clear that Morticia is bidding her the finest night of sleep that she could ever get. For all of the manor’s curious creaks and groans, the bed that she has been given is wonderfully plush. It smells a bit like stale perfume but the blankets are made out of fabrics just as fine as the ones that she had slept under in the palace. She swallows hard at the thought of home and the life that she used to know. The life that had slowly been slipping away from her anyhow.

She does have dreams most dreary, but not the kind and elegant sort that Morticia had wished her.

.oOo.

Azula can’t say that she has quite settled into this new place just yet. Although Morticia and Gomez are going very far out of their way to make her feel welcomed. So far out of their way that they have asked her to draw her old room so that they can construct an exact likeness to it, assuring her that they are perfectly alright with her ‘eccentric’ tastes in furnishing. “I do love a cuddly dragon!” Gomez had remarked with such enthusiasm that she fully believed that they don’t mind her clashing taste at all.

And while Morticia couldn’t find a single firelily seed to plant she had given a call to a cousin who had reached out to his fiance’s friend who is, from what Azula understands, “a biologist and a phenomenal bio engineer.” And this friend of a cousin will be working to alter the genes of a tiger lily to produce flames.

She doesn’t have the heart to tell any of them that they have misunderstood what a fire lily is. She is also quite curious about what type of flower they will plant for her.

Presently she stands in a garden that is mostly withered and wilting with overgrown grass and fountains that spray more moss than they do water. Smoke still trails off of her fingers from lightning discharged.

“Wednesday, come look at this!” Pugsley calls. And to Azula he shouts. “Do it again!”

“I am…” She reminds him, “...a princess.” She holds her head high. “Do not order me around or I will show you my lighting up close and personal.

The boy seems to perk up. “Really!?”

Azula gives a stiff nod. “Yes, indeed. Which would be a shame because I like your parents.” So maybe she won’t fry the boy but she will surely shock him a good one.

“Wednesday, she’s going to zap me!” He cries out.

And Azula cringes. She glances over her shoulder at Morticia and Gomez who watch them from across the garden. Although watch is a bit of a stretch. Morticia is rather invested in the rose that Gomez tucks behind her ear—thorns and all—with a loving pur. She breathes a sigh of relief.

Wednesday wanders her way over. “I’ll get the chains.” She says.

“Chains?”

“So he can’t get away.” Wednesday nods. “He likes the silver ones the best. The big iron ones are too heavy.” She pauses. “He’ll grow into them.” And just like that Pugsley is bound good and tight. “Now then. Let’s begin.” She clasps her hands behind her back.

Pugsley shoots her a goofy grin. “Make it a good one!”

Azula clears her throat. “I will have you know that my lighting is always superior.” She lets it dance upon her fingertips. She brings it precariously close to his nose and waits for him to twitch. Instead he giggles.

Azula sighs. He isn’t even slightly intimidated.

In fact he groans in disappointment when she withdraws her fingers.

“Just so you know, I am not being nice or merciful. Your disrespect of me will be punished. However I will not waste my lightning on you. Lightningbending is a very complex and highly regarded art. It isn’t to be used for silly games and party tricks.” She declares with a tilt of her chin. She clasps her arms behind her back. “I used it to strike the Avatar down and…”

Pugsley giggles again. “You’re really weird.”

Azula’s eye twitches. “And you smell like a moldy carpet!” She pinches her nose for good measure. Her heart lurches when a shadow falls over her. Two of them, in fact. She grits her teeth. “Listen I was just—”

“Isn’t she just precious?” Morticia gushes to Gomez.

Azula furrows her brow. “Wh—”

Gomez clasps an arm around her shoulder. “Don’t hold back on him now. Everyone loves a good verbal sparring! A battle of wits is an underrated form of combat.” He concludes.

For once Azula’s heart swells with delight. Ursa certainly would have scolded her for a remark like that. Would have demanded that she treated her brother with respect. Nevermind that Zuzu takes jabs of his own now and then. “You aren’t…I’m not in trouble.” She sounds like a child and she hates it.

“Well of course not! It’s perfectly healthy for children to play outside.” Morticia answers. “And such a creative game too!”

Gomez nods. “Indeed. Innovating lightning into playing hostage. Pugsley makes a remarkable upcoming criminal doesn’t he?”

“He’s an absolute menace.” Azula grumbles, thinking of the tin full of spiders he had left on her bedside in place of mixed nuts and dried fruits. She can still feel them crawling up her arm.

“Oh he sure is!” Morticia agrees.

.oOo.

The poor darling is so quiet and weary. Morticia pats the spot on the sofa next to her. She will get the girl to feel at home yet.”

“Pugsley and Wednesday had a fantastic time today. They simply adore you.” Morticia compliments.

And Azula’s brows furrow. “They did? They do?”

Morticia nods. “Well of course. Pugsley is absolutely delighted to have met someone else who enjoys electricity as much as he does. He and Wednesday are constantly playing execution; she straps him to an electric chair and he pretends to be a criminal giving his final words! But Wednesday gets tired of playing the same game over and over again. She would rather read her books.” She pauses, hoping that she isn’t boring the girl. “I’ll have to ask her to read you some Edgar Allan Poe one day. Have you heard of him? Do they read his works where you are from?”

Azula shakes her head. “No. But there is a poet named Ryo-Hi. He has some thoughtful poems about dragons but I don’t really care for that sort of thing.”

Morticia hums. “Well you’ve never heard an Addams family poem!” She says. “We have poetry slams every 14th day of the month. Gomez has a way with words. You’ll have to join us one day.”

Azula swallows and Morticia can tell that something is on her mind. Home, perhaps. “My dear, if you don’t want to stay with us just say the word and we’ll reach out to Uncle Fester to see if he can come by a device that can transport you…”

“No!” Azula says abruptly. “I…I don’t want to leave. I don’t think that I want to leave.” She bites her lower lip. “I don’t really have many friends where I came from. The think that I’m…” She trails off. “Morbid, cruel, a monster.”

“Oh, darling, they are right; it sounds like they love you very much!”

Azula shakes her head. “They aren’t like you. Monster and morbid aren’t terms of endearment.”

Pursing her lips, Morticia replies, “well that sounds absolutely drab.”

She shrugs and is silent for a moment before adding, “I guess.”

Morticia feels rather inclined to embrace the girl, but she remembers her mentioning something about not being the hugging sort.

“Well our family, finds you to be wonderful company and we’ll be glad to have you here.” Gomez promises as he enters the room. “The children wanted to play catch with a hornets’ nest before supper. Lurch will fetch them when it’s ready.”

Morticia nods. “Thank you, mi cariño. I would hate to cut their fun short.” She turns back to Azula. “Would you like to be an Addams?”

.oOo.

“Azula Addams does have a satisfying ring to it, I suppose.” And it would be awfully nice to be a part of a family that delights in her cynicism, witticisms, and sarcasm. To have a mother who still calls her a monster but with a very loving coo.

“Well that is splendid news!” Morticia takes her hand. “I will let the children know that you will be staying with us. They were hoping that you would be an older sister to them.”

Azula’s stomach flutters. “I never got along with my own brother.” She confesses. “Pugsley is much less whiny.” And much less preachy. And while her mind is on the topic of preachy… “what’s uncle Fester like?”

Gomez puffs his chest. “Ah yes! Good ol’ uncle Fester. An extraordinary man, he is. He’s a lot like you in that he’s got a way with electricity! I think that he would love to see that…what is it called?”

“Lightningbending.” Azula fills in.

“Lightningbending! He would love that a lot. He’s a practitioner of martial arts as well—kung fu to be precise. Your lightningbending looks a lot like that, you know.”

Azula tries not to grin too widely at the thought of having someone to firebend with. “Just wait until you see my firebending.”

“Firebending, well that sounds extraordinary.” Morticia replies. “Perhaps you can show us your firebending at the dinner table.”

“At the dinner table?” She almost comments that it is poor manners to do any type of bending at a dinner table unless the setting is a dinner theater. She bites her tongue, reminding herself for at least the sixth time today that things are very unusual here. “At the dinner table, of course.” She folds her hands in her lap.

She is going to have a lot to get used to now that she has been more or less, officially welcomed into the family.

She can’t imagine that they will be impatient with her. And she thinks that, that is just what she needs; patience and a group of people who don’t demand perfection from her. People who, in fact, delight in imperfections and notable flaws.

And maybe, here with these curious, darkly inclined individuals, she can find a comfortable and kinder place is a world that wasn’t her own but suits her much more.

#avatar the last airbender #azula #the addams family #morticia addams #wednesday addams #gomez addams #pugsley addams #crossover #fanfiction #one shot

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desertduality · 3 days ago

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thinking about ad astra hours again. smile

anywho I had a question? How far along in watcher rducation did grian get? is he about the same, or more or less than scar? and was it similar to scars education, what did they teach him? if grian was taught enough to run, does scar know enough to run now?

also deeply enjoying what a bamf you made scar. makes my scar loving heart cheer ! bro deserves some sick ass moments (and he is capable of them.. wish we saw that more both in canon and in fanon..) anyway have a good Time.

Ooo good questions!! Small ramble incoming lmao bc I've thought about this a lot:

The differences between Grian/Scar's experience with the Watchers is fun to think about, and it's something I kind of had to make sense of in my head before I could write some things.

The backstory I came up with in Ad Astra is that Grian was actually the very first player the Watchers ever transformed, so it was very experimental. He didn't really have a fledgling phase like Scar did (they did it to Scar to better control both him and Grian). It's stated in the fic that Grian was with the Watchers for less time than Scar, and it's simply because once Grian's control of his power had grown enough to do so, he escaped. It only took him a few days to realize that he really didn't want to be there, and then maybe a week later he used his magic to throw himself out of the Watcher realm. There wasn't a lot of finesse involved lmao, and I imagine at that point he crash landed onto hermitcraft.

Once the games started up, Grian had to make a deal with the Watchers that as long as he followed the rules/didn't interfere, they wouldn't take his friends and they would get a couple months of freedom between games. When Grian lets Scar reroll for a hard task instead of failing, the Watchers take it as an opportunity. They can't actually trap anyone who is dead set on leaving (unless they want to straight up permanently kill the person, which they don't generally like to do) which is the reason Scar promising to stay and be their experiment was such a powerful bargaining tool. Scar knew enough to have made a break for it after the first lesson, but he couldn't. He wouldn't.

As for the difference in Grian and Scar's magic, Grian is mostly self-taught at this point. They have about the same power level, but their ways of using it are different, both based on their personalities and the way they've been taught. Grian uses his magic in its raw form a lot, just like pure magic (think scarlet witch from marvel), and he also has a natural talent for the Sight portion of his powers, whereas Scar struggled with that for a while (hello blindfold trauma). Scar has more of a natural talent for the illusion part of Watcher magic, which isn't to say that Grian wouldn't be able to do it, they just have different strengths. Since Scar has spent more time being formally trained, he does things a little differently than Grian, who figured a lot of it out for himself but still has several more years of experience.

Anyway kjsdak I'm glad you enjoy bamf scar!! :3 I love letting him kick ass

#i hope this makes sense mostly ajskdkjs #there are surely plot holes to my lore bc i can't think of everything but i did my best <3 #thank you for your questions!! :D #this took me like 45 mins to put into words AKJSKJD #asks #ad astra asks

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 month ago

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The peach tree beams so red, How brilliant are its flowers!

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #jiang yanli #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #The maiden's getting wed; Good for the nuptial bowers.#I *know* she's not actually pregnant here and her request for WWX to name her son is more of an honourary thing.#But there is something so funny to me about the idea of JYL breaking the news of her pregnancy in such a casual way.#In my heart she did pounce on that peacock boy before the wedding. Ripped him to shreds and sewed him back together.#I think JYL should have a moment of not being the perfect society women and daughter.#She has been stuck in this role for her whole life! But dear god do I love to see her make small defiances.#Her role is to be a good daughter/sister. Then a good wife and good mother. But she did that on *her* terms!#She never took the 'easy' way out. Her reserved nature concealed someone who chose to be covert in doing what she felt was right.#I love you JYL and your kindness and generosity despite her status. I love you for pursuing your first love with tenacity.#I love you for sneaking out and showing off your wedding dress to the brother who wishes he could be there to see it.#Perhaps I think she deserves a few moments of being a true older sibling and inflicting psychic damage.#The sibling reaction shot in the final panel is very much inspired by my own horrors of learning too much about my siblings.#It's not about being a prude or sex negative. It's 100% about “I don't want to know!!! Untell me that shit right now!!!”

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vaguely-concerned · 2 months ago

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This might be due to the fact that on my first playthrough I ended up creating a Rook more emotionally guarded than any of the companions except Minrathous-route Lucanis and perhaps Neve, so I was primed to look for it, but I never got the sense that the companions don’t care for Rook (the thought never even occurred to me until I saw other people post about it) — to me it seems much more like it’s Rook who keeps the last bit of distance, Rook who pulls away when the companions try to extend their care or worry too directly, who keeps themselves slightly apart. (Rook who is so full of grief they cannot know as grief and thus process that there’s no room inside them to let anything else all the way in, perhaps.) They deflect and flinch back when someone gets too close or approaches them too overtly about their feelings — especially when it brushes up against the theme of grief. They can offer care to all the companions who are grieving, come along to any number of funerals as emotional support, but the moment someone turns that towards them they shut that shit down Immediately, like when Taash almost gives the whole game away with ‘Like you’d know? You act like you haven’t lost anyone!’ and Rook just blandly responds ‘We’re talking about you’ and doesn’t engage. But they can also admit that they struggle with accepting compliments, or knowing what to say, or having confidence in themselves without Varric’s help.

Despite all their determination and even in their most stoic no-nonsense incarnation, Rook is awkward, with the struggles that entails. Someone who is eager and happy to be the helper wherever they can, and helplessly unequipped to know how to be the helpee, as it were. It’s not that the companions don’t return Rook’s attachment to them, there’s MUCH more of a ‘okay so what are the ways you will allow me to be good to you??’ desperation of care vibe behind all their invitations to conversations and hangouts together, to my mind. They bring Rook to their favourite places and share the things they love with them, they ask to spend time together (many times just to have their company, not because they have a problem they need help with! Sometimes the problem arises anyway b/c video game quest narrative of course), they bring them out for some direly needed grass touching, they introduce them to their families. Everyone is clearly getting the sense that Rook does Not want to talk about Varric especially (this is in fact what Harding says in banter, if she’s still alive after the reveal :’( ), but they are absolutely SCRAMBLING to find ways to show that they’re there for them even so. AND from the companions’ perspective, with the situation as they have the means to understand it, accepting that Rook isn’t ready to have that conversation and backing off is also a kind thing to do. (tl;dr: To Me Rook is that weirdly socialized friend who is a great hang once they’re actually there but you have to directly invite them or they don’t quite know how to initiate the contact themselves lol)

Just as a crushing sense of responsibility for their family is a trait that is built into Hawke no matter how you play them or how you make them respond to that, I feel like Rook — however helpful and earnest, warm, charming, jocular, stoic or straightforward they seem at a surface glance — is always someone who struggles deeply with connecting to themselves and other people. (Emotional Intimacy, the Final Frontier.) As, indeed, is the case with all of the Veilguard companions too! It’s clearly a deliberate theme. These are all lonely people struggling with their sense of identity and belonging in some sort of way. AND having, working on and eventually starting to overcome these difficulties also makes Rook a direct foil for Solas, who doesn’t learn that lesson unless you corner him at the end of the world to force feed him his medicine lmao. They don’t manage to break out of the regret prison under their own steam, it’s because even struggling and grieving they have managed to create mutual bonds with other people who show up for them in turn now — and with all the protective walls of denial around what happened to Varric crumbling and making them less of a stranger to themselves, Rook is finally able to let them. An outcome Solas seemingly didn’t even consider to guard against, because he’s become that deeply entrenched in his loneliness, the utter isolation of the self — he can no longer truly imagine an alternative. (It’s not that he can’t form these bonds, obviously, it’s that he resolutely refuses to value them. Whether it’s because he feels like he doesn’t deserve it or out of a need for control or the martyr complex where he must sacrifice everything he loves on the sacrificial pyre of fixing his mistakes, all of the above and more, the result is the same. Mind!Varric, who I think is mostly Solas speaking, even calls this out directly. So yet again a situation where he has some self awareness about it and it doesn’t help At All haha. Solas falls to the temptation of making people into tools again and again and again, no matter how many times it comes back to bite him in the ass and the eternal solitude it traps him in.)

And that deep deep loneliness… There but for the grace of… well the theological state of thedas being what it is right now, let’s just go with the grace of Something, Presumably go you as well, Rook. The same capacity/tendency to pull away from connection clearly lives in them as well in some form (again, for whatever reason and with whatever motivations and instincts behind it for any individual Rook). Solas and Rook coming together to create a blood magic paper doll of the mind Varric in response to acute loss and loneliness is one of the most deep , deeply fucked up and invasive acts of intimacy I’ve ever contemplated. I don’t think that’s accidental, there’s something There’s Something Wrong With You (there’s something wrong with you that’s also wrong with me (derogatory)) here that resonates no matter how both parties would hate to hear it. (A fitting legacy for Varric and his wild ‘I made my best friend into a story because it’s the only way I know how to love with this desperation of sincerity’ brain to leave in the narrative, methinks. I feel he’d appreciate it on a craft level, if nothing else.)

If you read through all of Rook’s potential backstories, one of the common threads through all of them, along with a certain maverick ‘I’ll do whatever it takes’ streak, is a sense of profound alienation. They did something or have some sort of quality that made it hard for them to fit in with the group they’re from, causing a conflict that cuts them off from parts of their identity as it’s been up until now. All of which also adds to how important Varric is to them — he was clearly able to break/see through some of that and be closer with them, even in the relatively short time they spent together. No matter what else goes to shit, they can trust that a) Varric sees them, b) he genuinely likes them and believes in them not despite who they are, but for it, and c) he’s got their back, we’re in this together kid. And then he is gone, and it takes them the whole game to be able to bring themselves to accept that and know themselves again, be able to let new relationships in fully. The very understandable ‘the last time I let someone in, they got stabbed before my eyes and the world ended’ flinch away, even if they’re not consciously aware that’s what it is. Anyway I love Rook. So much space to play around in here as to WHY they might feel or react like this, even when the framework is more defined.

#dragon age #dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age: the veilguard spoilers #dragon age spoilers #rook #solas #varric tethras #dragon age meta #some of the same stuff around how bellara feels like rare representation of the good AND the bad of being neurodivergent #and the ongoing nature of it -- there's no easy resolution or solution to this just ways to live with it both in joy and despair --#going on with rook being Like This. their bumbling awkwardness can be endearing and funny but it does also genuinely hinder them #(awkwardness can mean bluntness or insecurity or constant deflective quips or what have you it comes from the same source)#I personally like a slightly more set protagonist like this (as well as both Hawke and Ryder) -- it's more interesting to me #to have a specific person in a specific situation to build on than the more sandbox approach. but I think that's very much #just a personal preference thing I don't think there's a right or wrong thing here from either the creator's side or the player #just different things people respond to differently etc. I feel like rook's backstories are quite a good balance of set vs. open #to start to build a character within!#I do wish. perhaps. that there was more willingness in certain quarters to look at it with that kind of nuance and generosity #rather than having to read 'x is OBJECTIVELY a bad protagonist and everyone agrees!!' again and again. but you know.#at least I can focus on what brings ME joy (if people are determined to be wrong it's not within my power or responsibility #to change their minds jfskda)

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