#people look at him but have you SEEN him truly?

[thesongoficeandfir3]

Mine to take care of

Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Wife!reader

Warnings: brief talk of gore, talks of menstrual cycle, slight description of menstrual blood, smut alluded

Genre: Fluff

Prompt: Jace taking care of his wife who’s on her moon blood

A/n: You’re next Cregan Stark

You changed your position on the four-poster bed for what felt like the hundredth time as your mind bops in between sleep and wakefulness. You had a long and irritable day just wanting to sleep but your body had other ideas as it writhed in some unknown pain that worsened throughout the night.  Finally accepting the fact you weren’t getting any sleep you allow your body to fully wake up and once your mind comes back to the waking world, your eyes burst open when you realized what was keeping you from sleep. 

You jolted to a sitting position ripping the furs from your body. Your eyes snapping down and a string of curses leaving your lips and you leap out of bed. The room was  somewhat dark, all the once tall and bright  candlesticks now mere stubs hardly sputtering flames and the fireplace reduced to embers. Yet you could still make out the dark bloodstain, a stark contrast to the white sheets. You are pulled from your panic when you hear soft mumbling and Jace shifting awake. You move quickly and hide the stain covering it with the furs.

“What is it?” He mummers out still half asleep and his voice raspy with sleep.

“It is nothing my love,” you stutter out, failing horribly to conceal the distraught in your tone. “Please just go back to bed.” Though you had succeeded in covering the truth on the bedsheets with the furs, you failed to remember it also seeped through your rather thin and white nightgown.

“If it were nothing then why does your voice-” he pauses mid sentence once his eyes land on you, his mind still not quite in the waking world “what is that on your-”  his eyes then widen in realization and you prayed to all the gods above to end you right there.

Despite being betrothed for two years, it was not until a fortnight ago that you two were married and started to share a marriage bed. Thus there were still a few more intimate and more private things yet to be revealed in your relationship, your moon blood being one of them. While from the very first day you had met Jacaerys he had been nothing but kind and gentle with you, at this moment your insecurities got the better of you making you feel ashamed and embarrassed about your own moon blood. 

Jacaerys was not as savage nor dumb like many of the other men of Westeros when it comes to a woman’s anatomy (something you found out rather quickly on your wedding night). Due to reading and having female family members he was more than aware of what a moon blood was. This however was not enough to prepare him for how it truly looked and he can not help be slightly taken aback. He had been to war, he has  seen men’s heads crushed, animal’s stomachs ripped open, people skins bubble and burn from dragon fire, but seven hells was that a lot of blood for a person who was not injured or cut.

“Oh is that your… you know” He desperately tries to act casual.

His words go through one ear and out the next, not only was the lower part of your nightgown stained with blood but as you sleeped with nothing more than a nightgown the blood also dripped and stained down your legs.

Mayhaps it was the lack of sleep or the raging and unpredictable emotions that always came with your moon blood but your eyes immediately became watery with tears. 

 “Sorry” your voice breaks and you prepare for him to make any signs of disgust or try to pretend he doesn't see anything and go back to bed as you told him early. 

This is more than enough to snap him out of his surprised state, he mentally slaps himself for his initial dumbfounded reaction. He quickly shifts right back to the loving and caring man you know so well and needed more than ever at this moment.

“Hush now my love, there is nothing to apologize for,” he is at your side in an instant “this is a natural part of a woman’s body and you should never apologize for it.” His voice is soft and gentle. Despite his encouraging words he can still see your heart aching and it doesn't help when your arm quickly wraps around your abdomen when a painful cramp surges through. “Come now, let's get you out of that and cleaned up” he says as he reaches for the laces of your nightgown.

You recoil, not because of him but because of yourself. “I am repulsive, I should do it myself”

His face twists in disappointment, his disappointment pointed toward your words not at you. His hands grab your biceps slightly squeezing them in an attempt to stop you from walking away from him and for you to listen to what he had to say.

“Stop that you are anything but, what you are is my queen, my woman and you are mine and i intend to take care of what belongs to me” he ends the sentence with a soft kiss on the forehead before undoing the laces. Once undone he slips it over your head leaving you completely bare, you both instantly noticing how even bloodier in between your thighs were.

“This is a womanly thing, many men would be off-put by this so I will not shame you if you are.” you know he said just a few moments ago it was fine, but seeing blood stains was one thing and seeing its source was a whole other.

“Don’t you dare compare me to those dimwitted fools,” he takes your hand and leads you to the wash basin “a real man will not be fazed by his wife's body functioning  the way it's supposed to.”

Once at the wash basin, he picks up a clean cloth and soap. He kneels in front of you getting to work at cleaning off all the blood, you can feel the tender love and care through his touch. It was quiet the entire time he washed you, but a it was a comfortable silence as you two reached a new level of intimacy.

Jace felt honored that you allowed him to see this side of you. So raw and vulnerable yet you still trusted him and for that , he did not think it was possible, but he fell in love with you more. After the cleaning is done he leans forward pressing a long and gentle kiss where your womb would be.

“Guess what,” he murmurs, his breath felt warm against your skin “Your womb has not been seeded yet.” he stands once more “so that means I can try again and again until my seed starts to bloom in your beautiful garden.” 

He pulls you flush against him and you laugh at his words, his heart swells being able to hear the sound again.

“And once you give birth to our beautiful king or queen  I will plant hundreds more.

You bite on your bottom lip, the insecurity from earlier passing and you feel more bold now.

“Well then what is stopping you from starting now?”

“Nothing my heart” his eyes darkened with love and desire, he lifts you up taking you two to the bed.

[zealouswitchwerewolf]

Unbeknownst to them, the rumor of them looking for Tim and speculation on why exactly they're doing so after so much time has passed spreads quickly through the league and the younger heroes. While each of those teams are known to work with the Bats and they usually have one as a team mate, they're not blind and they have seen the way things went down after Batman came back from the time stream. Some (Superman, Wally, Jon, maybe?) want to believe they finally realized how important Tim is to their family and want to reconnect.

Most of the others are skeptic and have (correctly) assumed they need Tim for something and are intending to pull him back into their parasitic (?) dynamic where Tim gives and gives and they take without giving anything back. Tim is finally moving on. Happy. They're not about to compromise that for the sake of the bats. Not after he put them before his own life and well being for years and years without them truly realizing.

It takes a week for them to hear back from Tim. However, when they finally get the call from a blocked number it isn't Tim on the other side.

"Tim? We were worried about you? Where have you been?" Dick answers but puts the phone on speaker, Bruce, Damian and Alfred present in the room.

"and why exactly are you trying to contact Tim right now?" Ma Kent's voice is colder than they've ever heard before. "Tim changed his number months ago. What exactly are you worried about?"

"Um... We..." Dick starts, sheepish and not sure how to continue without looking like a jerk.

"Where is Tim? Why isn't he calling us?" Bruce interrupts with his usual tact. Ma isn't having it.

"That's not how this works. Either answer my question or I'll hang up and make sure no one else gives you Tim's information. You might be detectives but even you won't be able to pass through all the layers of security that boy and his friends have put up as a precaution."

"He... Gave Bruce some advice that helped get the family back together we were hoping that he could..." Dick started.

"Go back to fixing your messes without ever getting anything in return? Talk Bruce out of his bullshit like he's the child instead of a full grown adult?" They stay silent, knowing Ma has a point. "That's what I thought. You know, anyone else in your situation would look for a therapist instead of relying on an emotional support child to get you through life. You didn't even notice when he left, did you?"

"I..." Dick is not sure how to finish his sentence. Damian looks bored and like he'd rather be anywhere else. Alfred has a deep frown on his face but it doesn't seem to be directed at anyone in particular. Bruce... Bruce has completely shut down. His face is pale, stuck in a neutral expression while his eyes are glassy and focused on a random point in the wall.

"Like I said. You're not getting close to that boy if you're just going to keep using him. He got out. Respect that. If you don't, I'll make sure someone keeps you in check. He has a lot of people at his back and even more who owe him favors. You don't want to try me." With that, Martha Kent hangs up the phone.

Bruce comes back from the dead and wants to make things better. Bruce comes back from the dead and Tim was the one who brought him back, so it's obviously Tim who'll know best how to help him reconnect with everyone.

It's Tim who should give him advice on how to bond with Dick. Dick has always been his idol, after all. Tim would know best how to bring him back, and he does. He gives good advice and the two of them begin to get closer.

So Bruce asks about Jason, too. Asks about how to bring his son back into the fold and Tim wished for a brief and brutal moment that it weren't so obvious who the favorite was.

Tim told Bruce to give Jason his space, to loosen his rules, and make it clear that no matter what the Red Hood did, no matter what the Batman believed in, Jason was always welcome. Bruce would always want him.

It worked. Bruce wasn't surprised. Tim was a special sort of bitter.

Bruce asked again for Damian and Tim had to push down his anger. "That boy tried to kill me," Tim wanted to say. "I hate him and I want you to hate him too so that I can remember a time when we had something in common," Tim didn't say, but he got close.

He instead told Bruce how Damian liked art and animals and loved hearing stories of the wonders of Batman.

He told Bruce just how much Damian loved being Robin. Told Bruce to tell Damian what a good Robin he was.

God bless or maybe damn him, but he did and it worked and Tim wanted to start screaming and clawing at something because that would have never worked if Tim tried it and it wouldn't have stopped Damian from cutting his line--something Bruce did not and would never know about.

Bruce asked about Babs. How should he make sure she knew that she was a part of the family? They they loved her and not just for the work she did?

He asked about Steph. How should he make sure she knew that she was more important than his rules and that, if something else should go wrong, she didn't need to run away?

He asked about Duke. He never got the chance to get to know him before leaving--not as well as he wanted to, at least. How should he let him know that he was just as much a son as everyone else? That, whether or not his parents woke up, he'd always be welcome?

He asked about Cass. How should he show her that he loves her even though he has nothing to teach her? How can he convey how much he cares about her, his first daughter?

Bruce gets brought back from time and he makes things better. He brings his family back together by following Tim's advice.

And Tim?

Tim brings his dad back from the dead and Bruce changes, becomes a better father.

Bruce changes, but not everything can.

That, Tim thinks, is why Bruce never calls Tim his son.

[sabos-husband]

★ Oh Captain, My Captain

Nika/Monkey D. Luffy x Reader ★

Egghead Spoilers!! ~ Straw Hat!Reader ~ Gender Neutral ~ Fluff

a/n: Because Nika's also considered the God of Liberation, reader is implied to have some history of being captured and/or enslaved. It isn't expanded upon; Whether it's like Nami in Arlong Park or Kuma with the Celestial dragons or anything else is up to interpretation.

You're setting out the incense you've been using since you first dabbled in worship when Luffy—your captain and boyfriend—barges in. He'd been curious when you first told him what you were doing before it inevitably petered off.

However, recently, his interest came back in full swing; What does praying to this Nika really entail?

You can't help but roll your eyes affectionately. You hadn't started praying necessarily, so there wasn't anything to get mad at. You're tucked away in the lookout room—after opening the window, it's the only place where the incense's smoke wouldn't get trapped. You had just barely convinced Zoro to delay his training for an hour so you could pray. You considered the library, but the look you imagine to be on Robin's face if she had found out you burned incense near books immediately steered you away from its door. Scooting to the side, you let Luffy coil around you and watch curiously over your shoulder.

"What's that?" You can feel his head tilt against your neck.

"The incense?"

"Mm."

You light the sticks and breathe in the comforting scent. After you put out your match, you kneel in front of the makeshift altar on the couch. He plops down, still attached to your side.

"It's like... Hm. Smoke to guide my prayers?" You hold up one of your hands to gesture to the billowing vapor. "So that Nika can reach them."

Luffy's face scrunches at the mention of Nika's name. He sometimes reminds you of a cat when he does that. Luffy's smile doesn't falter—because Monkey D. Luffy never falters—but it turns like the gears in his head.

"Like a news coo?"

You blink. "I guess. Like a news coo."

He hums thoughtfully. Luffy's arms wrap round and round your torso as you set up to pray. You're almost impressed by how still he's sitting until—yeah, no, he fell asleep. You smile. Whatever works, you think to yourself.

You finish your prayer without a hitch, which is better than the usual outcome you get with Luffy sitting in for it. You even get to lean into him and breathe in the feeling for a long while before he wakes up.

Luffy blinks the sleep from his eyes. Blearily, he looks at the lack of smoke, the midday sun, and your gentle, loving smile.

"You're fast at praying," Luffy says. You snort.

The smoke has already faded, blown out through the open window. Despite yourself, you find your mind drifting with it back to the shores of Egghead. Luffy... That had been the fight of your lives. It was nothing compared to the power you'd been thoroughly beaten by two years ago, but you still survived. By the skin of your teeth, yes, but you survived. All thanks to the pirates of Elbaf.

Well, them and Luffy's new gear.

You can still see it, every time you close your eyes.

Bouncing between hell and its horrors, your captain just smiled and laughed in its face. You'd seen a glimpse of it from the fight on Onigashima, but seeing him truly fight—and Vegapunk saying exactly what you were feeling—only confused you more.

The first time you heard of the god... you'll never forget it. It was like shadow blotted out the sky, with no hope to be found. Time blurred, until you couldn't distinguish each endless day from the rest.

And then you heard it.

Nika.

His story was passed in whispers during meal time and prayers muttered before curfew. You pick it up pieces at a time.

He's a god of destruction, you learn first. You hear it from the angry, spiteful stories of people hoping He would come down and lay waste to all those who have harmed His followers.

He's a god of the Sun, you learn soon after. You hear it from longing, wistful stories of people hoping He would part the clouds and let the sun shine its light to guide His followers home.

He's a god of laughter, you learn after a while. You hear it from sad, mirthless stories of people hoping He would give His followers something to laugh about for the first time in a while.

In the end, you never hear it from a specific tale. You piece it together, taking the ending from each and every other one; Nika is a god of Liberation. No matter who and no matter where, each of His followers pray He will find them and free them.

It's this that bewitches you. Somewhere from the beginning until then, you realized that you, too, prayed to Nika and shared His stories. Whispering of the day He would come and save you all.

You squeezed Luffy's wrist. "Hey, I have a question."

Your captain tilts his head. He doesn't say anything, just squeezing you.

"A-Are you... Um, Do you know Nika?"

Luffy purses his lips, furrowing his eyebrows. A second passes, and then another, and then his eyes widen. "Oh yeah! That's the one you pray to, right? Bonney mentioned that guy! What about 'im?"

You rub circles against his skin with your thumb. You can feel his warmth.

"...Can I see your Gear 5?"

Luffy looks at you. He doesn't ask you anything about it. The look that he has—it's like he can see the storm in your head. Unraveling himself, Luffy rolls backwards into a squat and grins at you.

Pressure in the room builds. Something foreign drapes itself over Luffy as his eyes shut. It shakes like strikes to a drum, vibrating through the air until it reaches you and reverberates through your bones.

And then he opens his eyes.

It's like staring down a wild animal.

"I feel it!" Balling up his hand, your captain bangs his fist against his chest. With each strike, lightning bursts forth and grazes past. His chest beats with every strike until his hands drop and it still beats—Luffy's body sways under the force of its rhythm, possessed by something you're tempted to call a dance.

It's then you see it; White bleeds from his scalp and devours up the black of his hair. It doesn't stop until it swallows up the color in his clothes, until clouds sprout into existence and wrap around his arms.

It's not particularly cold, but his sharp exhale is like a dragon's breath of steam. He breathes in, chest swelling with air, and then bursts into laughter.

Sparks fly with every cackle, bouncing off the walls and pushing them like- like rubber. You stumble back, twisting your body to dodge the electricity. You want to go closer. You want to see. You want to—

Nika.

Air whooshes past your ears and your nose brushes against his.

Glowing, red eyes stare down at you, crinkling at the edges with unabashed mirth. If you weren't already on your knees, hands clasped in front of you in prayer, you would've collapsed at the sight. Hell, you feel your eyes pop out of your head at it.

With warmth you can almost taste, Nika laughs.

"Caught you," He says.

You give in.

Nika breezes past you and flops back against the crow's nest's couch, riding with the waves that ripple through it like a water bed. His movement almost knocks over the unlit incense.

You scoot forward until you're closer. You lay your head atop His thighs and wind your arms behind His knees, avoiding the radiant light staring down at you. Your heart pitter-patters so hard against your ribcage you worry He can feel it against His shins.

But then Nika laughs—oh, how He laughs, it's like the sound soars from His lips and dances among the incense smoke. It's divine. It dissipates the worry from your heart.

"Oh, sun," you gasp, "it's you."

"Of course it's me!" He laughs. The sound makes your heart dance. "Who else could it be?"

"I-It's just that—" You risk a look, and it's just as blinding as you imagined. You bury your face again. "I thought that- that Nika—"

"—What?—"

"I mean, you look just like him!" You force yourself to look up at His radiance. "It's almost like- you're Nika!"

The blinding figure just laughs at you again, slapping his palm against his stomach. "I'm not Nika! Jeez, you're kinda stupid!"

You ignore the obvious dig, scrambling to sit up straight. You're in so much shock, your jaw drops.

Literally.

You feel your chin smack against the ground before you realize what's happening. You scream as you desperately try to shut your mouth—and it snaps right up like nothing. You slap a hand over your mouth.

All of a sudden, a light bulb appears only to alight above the man's head. Hands clasp themselves on the sides of your face. Before you can manage a thought, they pry you up to stare into furious, ruby eyes. "I'm not Nika! I'm Luffy!"

Thought escape you, but you scrounge together your words. "I know, but-" That hair, that laugh.

His pout stops you. "Don't start calling me that, too! You know I'm Luffy!" He yells. You can feel the air bend at the strength of his voice.

The heat would be suffocating if you weren't so used to it. You're used to Luffy treating you like this, but if you didn't know better, you'd think the steam over your head was coming from your ears at the treatment.

Wait. What?

You look up, and—yeah, okay, that's really steam. You clasp your hands over your ears and feel condensation gather on your palm.

Luffy's expression clears like clouds parting. He doesn't even bother trying to frown! Despite your shock, Luffy can't help but laugh. He tosses his head back and laughs, clutching at his stomach and covering his eyes. The force of his amusement almost feels physical. You fall onto your back while he just clambers on over you until his forehead is pressed against yours.

"I'm," he gasps between giggles, "Luffy!"

"I know!"

"I'm Luffy!" He cackles this time!

Oh, you can't help the way the laugh that bursts out of you. Seeing him again, feeling the warmth of his skin, it's different. Reverence possessed you from afar, but your heart knows the feel of Luffy's touch. No God could make you feel so much love like this—not even a God of Liberation.

You gently cradle his face, soft smile on your lips, and nod. "I know, captain. You're always my Luffy," you say, and you know it's true.

"Good!"

He grins and falls off of you. The planks bend and ripple with waves under him.

You sit up. Suppressing your snickers, you pull him up by the lapel of his vest. Luffy's head lolls back as you shake him. The laughter rumbling in his chest feels like it's rattling your ribcage. He's practically boneless like this... kind of reminds you of a cat. You snicker at the thought.

The novelty of Gear 5 had worn off by now. Here, sitting with your captain, you didn't feel any of the reverence you did when you first saw Him. No, there's no reverence—all you can feel is love in your veins and laughter in your heart with him.

"Hey, Luffy."

He peeks at you curiously. "Whuh?"

You pull him closer, stealing a gentle kiss.

When you pull back, you can't help but snicker. Luffy has a goofy, squiggly grin on his face as he melts into goo, with hearts floating above his head and spirals in his eyes. What a strange boyfriend you have.

You let out a sigh. How blessed you are.

[crescenthistory]

Cariiiiina, love!

Congratulations on this amazing milestone, I am so so so proud of you! It’s a well deserved achievement and I really love your celebration event. (So sweet like you!)

I love your writing, your ideas, your thoughts! Just as I love the warmth of your blog and how sweet the insights about you and your wife are! Truly lovely people here! And that’s why so many lovely people gathered here!

A toast to you, and for the next deserved milestones on the way!

I wanted to ask if I could request a domestic Argue? With 49 family photos + 74 vhs tapes? With precious Remus Moony Lupin?

I thought of f!reader, and something along the lines of „as happy as the photos make it seem, the times weren’t happy. It was sad / hard and hurtful“ (could be applied to both/ one of them, whatever you think suits best!)

Thanks for considering! Lots of love, and congratulations!

- Lel

hi lel!! thank you so immensely much<33 you are just such an angel, i appreciate your enthusiasm and kind words so much 😭🤍 i'm glad my blog comes across the way i hope, big hugs to you xx loved this prompt:,)

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will ARGUE for prompt 49 "family photos" and prompt 74 "vhs tapes" with remus lupin

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

cw: established relationship, references to the war but not canon-compliant, melancholic, sweet fluffy hurt/comfort, referenced fertility struggles (hope&lyall) remus' self-loathing, lycanthropy

wc: exactly 1.6k

The Lupin Cottage was quiet in a way you had never experienced before.

Sitting cross-legged in a plush armchair in the reading room on the second floor, you stared out the window. You could see how harshly the wind was treating the trees and you knew the walls of the narrow home were not thick, yet you couldn't hear a thing. You wondered if Lyall had set up a spell of some kind.

Despite the silence, the house was talkative, always alerting you to the other inhabitants' movements. The creaking by the doorway made you turn your head over the shoulder to see Remus leaning against the doorframe with a wistful smile.

"Hi, cariad," you greeted cheekily, smiling around the nickname his mother calls him. "You found me."

Remus huffed a laugh as he looked down, pushing off the doorframe and leaning on his indoor cane as he moved to sit in the chair across from yours. "Was wondering where ya ran off to. My mother hasn't scared you off already, has she?"

You shook your head with a small smile even before you could think of what to say.

This was your first time meeting Remus' parents properly – you had seen them in the passing on the platform or in doorways over your years at Hogwarts, but with the way the war immediately picked up after graduation, you were unable to spend an extended period of time with them. To be with them for the month of January now felt like a blessing; one you didn't take lightly.

"Hope is lovely, she could never scare me off," you assured Remus, holding his gaze to ensure he knew you meant it. "I just wanted to look through the house and found this room. It's sweet, I really like it."

You looked over the room, the shelves on shelves filled with worn out books, seemingly passed down over generations. There was a small fireplace and an even smaller television, beyond outdated but with a few VHS tapes and movies stacked beneath it that indicated it still worked. It was cozy, the exact thing you would have imagined the Lupins having.

When you looked back at Remus he was still looking at you, a deep look in his eyes. A bit haunted, but no less loving. Loving. You counted your lucky stars that you got to keep the man you loved.

"I'm glad you like it," he all but whispered. "It was my favourite growing up. It was actually supposed to be a bedroom for any potential younger siblings, but, well, that didn't work out, did it?"

There was more guilt than grief in his voice and you furrowed your brows, reaching out across the small space to give him your hand. He took it with a small smile, intertwining your fingers and squeezing.

You already knew why he didn't have any younger siblings; his parents struggled with even conceiving him and kept trying after he was born. They gave up the day he was bit.

"I can tell it's been well-loved. That's a good thing."

Another squeeze of your hand. "It is."

A look came over Remus' face, as if he remembered something. "Mum wanted us to keep our sentimentals in here, to make sure it remained a room of love. If you want, there should be a box over by the television. You can bring it over.”

Anyone else might not have been able to read the vulnerability in Remus’ voice, but you knew him better than that by now. “I would love to,” you said reassuringly, letting his hand go in favour of placing it on his shoulder as you passed.

The wide TV stood on top of a small shelf filled with DVDs and VHS tapes – some of which had handwriting on them, you could barely make out words like WEDDING and REMUS BIRTHDAY. Beside them were compartments with boxes of various contents, but you understood which one he meant by the look of it. There were tracks in the dust on top of it, showing that it was taken out semi-frequently, and you could see some pictures through the holes near the top.

Sliding it out of the shelf was no problem, but it was much heavier than anticipated, causing you to laugh at yourself as you carried it over. Remus was looking at you bemusedly and you just flashed him a bright smile and climbed up onto his chair, sitting on the armrest and placing the box in his lap by your feet.

“Show me. Please.” Your voice was quiet and earnest, laden in love and smiles as you looked at him.

You could swear you saw the tips of his freckled ears grow red at the attention, turning his head down towards the box abashedly. 

He brought up a thick photo album with dark brown and gold details on its outside. If the books on the shelves were worn, then this album was well-loved, with fraying edges and some pictures almost falling out. Your fingers itched to cast a preservation spell over it, but that was far from your place. For now, you just wanted him to show you every little detail of who he was and who he became. 

“This one is from when I was quite young – think toddler,” he narrated as he began to flip it open.

Any further explanation he might have had was cut off by the massive coo that escaped you at the sight of the front page. Remus John Lupin, aged 2, wearing a paper crown with his name on it and grinning at a  piece of cake, chocolate frosting on his nose and chin. 

You leaned forward, almost burying your face in the book to see, fighting back tears at the absolute sweetness that was baby Remus. “You were such an adorable baby,” you cooed, tracing the air just above the picture, scared to damage it. “I can’t believe I’ve never seen baby pictures of you before.”

“I was just a normal babe,” he tried to brush it off, redness now creeping from his ears and into his cheeks.

When you turned your face towards his, you were much closer than anticipated, only furthering your grin as you regarded his flustered expression. “No, love. You were adorable.” A quick peck. “Still are.”

You laughed and leaned your head on top of his, encouraging him to continue flipping through the album and showing you. If he was bothered by your teasing, he didn’t show it – on the contrary, one of his hands came to rest around your hip, steadying you, and his thumb traced loving, absentminded circles there. 

As he whispered commentary about the various pictures – Remus in his rain boots, Remus with sheep that wandered into the garden, Remus playing in the sand – and you kept gushing over how adorable he was, you felt gratitude settling comfortably within you. 

He stopped short when he flipped a page; no comments, no reactions, just regarded what he saw. It was an image of Remus, now around the age of 7, back to the camera as he decked the table in a new living room. It was dark, but you could just barely see Lyall in the background, working in the kitchen.

Eventually, he cleared his voice and spoke. “This was when they started taking pictures again.” 

Your grip on him tightened, giving him time and space to feel. You knew what he referred to. Humming in approval, you began pressing kisses to his tawny hair, making sure not to shy away from his touch, but instead lean into him. Show him you were there.

Remus began flipping through again, though his comments were much more sporadic now. You didn’t hold back on your cooing, commenting on his beautiful dimples and his cute I-got-dressed-by-myself-today outfits. His thumb kept going at your hip.

At the sight of an up-close picture of 8 year old Remus smiling awkwardly, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to smile with teeth yet, he stopped once more to trace the line of the scar on his nose. “You know,” he whispered. “Seeing pictures like these is so odd. It was such a painful time, but it didn’t really translate to camera. Sans the scars, I almost seem like a normal kid.”

You drew out the kiss to his hairline so you had time to think of what to say. “You were a normal kid, though. Even with everything, you were always just a sweet boy. Still are.”

He breathed through his nose in a half-laugh, tilting his head up to look at you. “Of course you would think that, you’re in love with me.”

You hummed happily and leaned down to press a sweet kiss to his awaiting, soft lips. “I’m glad you’ve got that right at least,” you murmured before you pulled away, caressing his cheek as you watched him. “I like seeing pictures from then; both before and after. It’s a part of you and I do love every part of you.”

His smile was melancholic but no less genuine. “I will never understand that, I think.”

“You don’t need to, my love. You just need to let me.”

Remus huffed through a smile once more, dragging you closer to him by the arm around your hip and breathing you in. “I’ve never been one to deny you anything, have I?”

“Are you good for looking at more pictures or is it time to go help Hope with dinner?”

Remus regarded you for a second, smile growing. “Look through a few more, my love.”

[mylovesstuffs]

Entry #02

24.01.2025 - 02:52

The fact that so many people here feel self-conscious and insecure about their smiles breaks my heart. It’s disheartening, to say the least. I know I’m here trying to comfort you all, but reading your responses makes me feel a little lighter though I know it’s cruel of me to admit. I usually don’t like to be vulnerable, not online and definitely not in public, but for your sake, and because I understand how it feels, I’ll share why I feel that way.

It’s because I’m insecure too.

To the point where COVID was a relief for me because wearing masks in public became normalized. From 2020 to 2025, I’ve been wearing a mask every single day and I'm not exaggerating.

To the point where my friends unmask me once every two months (because I don't unmask every time they want) just so they don’t forget what I look like.

To the point where I only have 12 unmasked photos of myself as a teenager.

To the point where I’ve become known as “the mask girl.”

To the point where people shame me for wearing a mask indoors and outdoors.

To the point where I’m often targeted or pressured by others to unmask myself.

To the point where my juniors have never even seen my face.

But what really hit me is realizing so many of you feel insecure about your smiles. I thought I was alone in this. For me, it’s my smile too. It’s something I’ve struggled with for as long as I can remember. It surprises me because, to me, I’ve never seen a bad smile in my entire life. Not one. Truly. People even make fun of me for finding everyone attractive and beautiful, but I do! Everyone is unique in their own way. I genuinely think everyone is unique and beautiful. What you see in the mirror isn’t what others see. People see you differently than you see yourself, they see beauty where you might not. Yet here I am, telling you this, even though I can’t seem to believe it about myself or apply it in my life. I hate my smile. I hate it to the point that I avoid it entirely. And it hurts even more because my own father has been the one to point it out. My family knows how sensitive I am about it, and they go out of their way to avoid making me feel worse. But my father doesn’t realize this. He’s told me outright several times not to smile or laugh with my teeth showing (as if I could laugh any other way).

It broke me. To know that everyone around me understood that except him. To him, it’s not a big deal. To him, he's oblivious. Though I know he has a bit of a narcissistic personality but it's not that bad. Laughing and smiling are involuntary, natural expressions of joy or amusement—things that happen without much thought. So to tell me not to smile or laugh feels deeply unfair, even cruel, when you think about it. I’ve been made to feel self-conscious about even being happy. But at the same time, I know he isn’t intentionally trying to hurt me. He’s just oblivious to how deeply his words affect me. And that’s the tricky part, isn’t it? People often don’t realize how their comments especially about something as personal as physical appearance can linger. The logical side of me knows he doesn’t mean harm. But the emotional side of me can’t help but feel the weight of those words. It’s a reminder that even the people closest to us, the ones we expect to understand us best, can sometimes miss the mark entirely.

So yeah, I guess that’s why I felt a strange sense of comfort knowing that others feel this way too. It’s not something we can always control, but maybe it’s something we can learn to embrace. And from the bottom of my heart, I know that if SEVENTEEN ever knew about this, they’d be the first to hug us. As their fans, their friends, or someone even closer to them, they’d want us to know how special we are. How beautiful we are. They’d remind us that our smiles—the ones we hate—are the ones that light up their world. Insecurities often feel like a big deal to us, even if others might think they're trivial or wonder why we're bothered by them. But the truth is, insecurities are deeply personal and sensitive, and because of that, we should really be kind and understanding toward one another.

You’re not alone. And you are so, so much more beautiful than you think.

OT13 reacting to their s/o who loves smiles but feels insecure about showing their teeth

Request: Halooo I am the same anon that req wisdom tooth drabble!!! So can I req for svt ot13 s/o that love smile but never showed their teeth cause they're insecure with it?? I do have an open bite and I do be jealous w ppl that can smile with their normal teeth 🥲🥲 Also can I be ur ⭐️ anon??

A/N: This is dedicated to all kinds of smiles—big, small, toothy, closed, crooked, or perfectly aligned. It’s easy to compare ourselves to others, especially when society has such rigid standards for something as personal as a smile. But the truth is, the world isn’t looking for perfect smiles; it’s looking for your smile—the one that lights up the people around you, the one that reflects your joy, and the one that makes you you. Whether you’re someone who shows off their teeth confidently or someone who keeps their smiles shy, you are absolutely radiant just the way you are. I hope this reaction brings you warmth, and maybe even a little courage to embrace your smile, because SEVENTEEN and I think it’s the best one there is. Thank you for reading, and remember: your smile is a gift, not just to you but to everyone lucky enough to see it! 💛

I definitely encourage you to read everyone's part, especially Minghao's.

Seungcheol: Cheol would notice right away how you always smile with your lips closed. He’d encourage you without pushing too hard, so you’d catch him saying things like, “I love it when you smile—it’s my favorite thing about you.” And when you explain why you’re self-conscious, his protective mode kicks in. In his mind, you’re perfect exactly as you are. He’d make a habit of kissing your forehead after every smile, as if to say, Thank you for sharing this with me. Warm, comforting, and always your biggest cheerleader.

Jeonghan: Jeonghan is a tease—but in the sweetest way possible. He’d catch you hiding your teeth and tease you playfully about how even your shy smile could start a fan club. But deep down, he’d be the FIRST to remind you that nobody’s smile is ‘wrong’. He’d even come up with ridiculous scenarios like, “If anyone says anything about your teeth, I’ll report them to Smile Security.” Sure, it’s dramatic, but somehow it’s comforting. With him, you’d slowly start to see your smile through his eyes: bright, genuine, and absolutely worth showing off.

Joshua: Shua’s the ‘patient and reassuring’ type. He’d never rush you into anything but would always make it known how much he loves your smile—whether or not it shows your teeth. He’d probably sit with you one evening and casually mention how he used to be insecure about something too, just to remind you that everyone has their struggles. The way he’d look at you every time you smiled? Pure love and admiration. Slowly but surely, you’d start feeling like, Maybe my smile isn’t so bad after all.

Jun: Junhui wouldn’t even let you finish explaining your insecurity before he’d start showering you with compliments. He’d be so sweet and genuine about it too, like, “What? But your smile is so pretty! Have you seen yourself?” He’d probably find little ways to make you smile more, through goofy antics or heartfelt gestures. The best part? He’d never let you feel like you had to change—he loves your smile, whether it’s teeth-showing or not. And his genuine enthusiasm? It’s impossible not to feel a little brighter around him.

Hoshi: Hoshi would make it his personal mission to see your biggest, toothiest smile. He’s dramatic like that. He'd do the silliest things to make you laugh, like impersonating the other members or dancing in the weirdest ways (mind you he's performance team leader TT). When you finally let out a full smile, he’d stop mid-act and just stare. “Wow. That’s the one. That’s the smile that could light up a stadium.” And you’d know he’s not exaggerating (even though he’s Hoshi and exaggerates everything). It’s just how he loves—with his whole heart. I'm feeling soft :(

Wonwoo: He’d notice your insecurities but wouldn’t bring them up directly. Instead, would focus on making you comfortable and appreciated. He’d probably start complimenting you in subtle ways, like, “Your smile is really nice,” or “You look happiest when you smile.” Over time, his steady reassurance would make you feel less self-conscious. And when you finally smile without holding back, he’d just give you that soft, proud look, as if to say, See? I knew it was beautiful.

Woozi: Woozi would be a mix of logical and sweet about it. He’d listen to your reasons and then quietly debunk every single one of them, like, “Who said teeth have to be perfect to make a smile beautiful? That’s nonsense.” He’d focus more on how your smile makes him feel—happy, loved, and lucky to know you. And if you ever caught him sneaking a photo of you smiling? Just know it’s because he wants to remember how happy you looked in that moment.

Dokyeom: Oh boy, Seokmin would be all over this. He lives for smiles, especially yours. He’d probably start a whole campaign to make you feel better about it, complete with compliments, funny jokes, and random bursts of Look at that gorgeous smile! energy. You’d have no choice but to smile around him because he’s just that infectious. And when you finally let out a toothy grin, he’d gasp like, “I KNEW IT! YOU HAVE THE BEST SMILE IN THE WORLD!” Dramatic? Yes. Effective? Absolutely.

Mingyu: Kim Mingyu, the man he is, would be the type to go above and beyond to make you feel good about your smile. He’d start by complimenting you constantly and taking candid photos where you look natural and happy. Then, he’d show them to you like, “Look at this—your smile could cure my bad days.” He’d probably even bring it up to the members like, “Isn’t her smile the best thing ever?” And when you roll your eyes at him, he’d just grin and say, “See? Even your eyeroll smile is perfect.” AHHGHTCGTCGCFFCCT

Minghao: Hao would be supportive and no-nonsense. He’d listen to your insecurities, acknowledge your feelings, and then remind you that nobody’s perfect. “Imperfections make us human,” he’d say, and it would somehow hit deeper than you expected. He’d probably encourage you to focus on how your smile feels rather than how it looks, and over time, his grounded perspective would help you see your smile in a whole new light. With him (with others too), you’d start to appreciate the beauty in being uniquely you.

Seungkwan: Seungkwan would be the loudest advocate for your smile. “Are you kidding me!” He’d probably start hyping you up every time you smiled, to the point where it becomes impossible not to feel confident about it. And if anyone dared to say something negative about your teeth? Oh, he’d drag them to filth, no hesitation I'm telling you. With Seungkwan in your corner, you’d never have to doubt your smile again.

Vernon: He would be ridiculously sweet. He’d casually drop comments like, “Your smile’s cool,” and then act like it’s no big deal—when really, he’s melting inside every time he sees it. He’d never pressure you to show your teeth but would secretly be over the moon whenever you did. And the way he’d look at you in those moments? Pure adoration. Honestly, he’d make you feel like the coolest person in the world, open bite or not.

Dino: Chan would be all about boosting your confidence. He’d give you a pep talk about how unique smiles are the best smiles and how yours is his favorite thing about you. He’d hype you up so much that you’d almost feel like a celebrity. And when you finally smiled without holding back, he’d act like it’s the greatest thing he’s ever seen. “That’s it! That’s the smile that could rules my heart!” That’s just how much he cares.

[marinettesaltprompts]

Marinette Salt Prompts: In which Max saves Paris by being himself - Part 1

Prompt by yours truly :)

Warning: Long Post!

When Max first became Pegasus, he was initially excited to become a hero. Getting these cool awesome powers, being able to help the people of Paris and be seen more than just a computer geek had put a spring in his step.

And it still was! ... For a time at least.

But then one day following an akuma attack in which Max lost conciousness (from a wasp attack? did Chloe get akumatised again?) Ladybug came by with a new suit and a declaration that she was the "Guardian" (whatever that had meant). Nobody questioned the declaration, even Max.

This of course, meant that Pegasus became a hero more than not.

This didn't seem so bad at first ... but then the weariness began to set in. More and more akuma's appeared, resulting in Max having to be called more often, leaving him tired and exhausted as a result. While Max was lucky enough that he had not managed to to be hit by an akuma's power, seeing one of his hero allies just disappear sent shivers down the poor genius's spine. Especially when Roi Singe was hit (even though Max had no clue who he was, he seemed familliar).

It didn't help that Ladybug and Chat Noir, the main Heroes of Paris, had begun to fight a lot more. At first it was just simple disagreements, but then it became louder. Max noted that Chat kept trying to get close to Ladybug, but the latter kept trying to push him away. At first Max had assumed that it was due to Chat's well known crush on Ladybug, but now he was not so sure, especially when she began to get snappy with others even if Chat had said nothing the enitre fight (which in itself became more and more uncommon). Ladybug was obviously stressed, but whenever anyone commented on it, she would either deny it or get incredibly angry (especially if it was Chat Noir that made the statement)

It was only after a long and terrible akuma battle that Max began to see things differently. More than half the heroes had been "disappeared", only to be returned back to life with the Miraculous Ladybug. A lot of the heroes looked very uncomfortable, but had said nothing as Ladybug once again congratulated them on a won battle.

Max finally spoke up.

"Um... actually, I have a question?"

The way Ladybug seemed to snap her head to him almost made him jump back, but seeing as she had some sort of smile on her face, he continued.

"These akuma's have started to become more and more problematic recently ... more than half of us were... vanished, when normally that doesn't happen..."

Of course it happened more often, they just didn't say anything. But this is the worst one yet. Most of them vanished. ONLY vanished. We don't say kill because thats impossible to think about without feeling sick to the core

"... perhaps we should approch the problem with the akumas a bit more differently?"

Ladybug paused, the smile disappearing from her face as she contemplated what he said.

"...Well... sure. I suppose we don't spend enough time actually training. I mean, me and Noir have a lot of experience but all of you are much newer than we are ..." Ladybug snapped her fingers in excitement "Oh I know! How about we meet up for a training session? Perhaps we could all take the time to learn how to use our powers better!"

Despite the well intentions behind it, Max actually felt sick at the idea of having to spend more time in the costume. He actually had his own life to worry about thank you very much. (Unbeknwnst to him, several others felt the same way).

"N-No! I-I mean that was what I was going with, we are ok with using our abilities." Max said hurriedly, avoiding the subtle displeasure on Ladybug's face. "What I meant to say was... shouldn't we try and solve the issue directly."

"What, you mean the akumas?" Ladybug asked.

"No ... I meant Hawkmoth. Shouldn't we do something about finding him?"

The question caused everyone to perk up at the thought. Even the now-normally silent Chat Noir raised his ears at the suggestion.

However, Ladybug's face remained stone cold.

"That's ... not possible."

"What do you mean its not? I mean, we have these powers right? Couldn't we use them to find him?" Max said, even as the others visibly shrinked with anger.

"I'm saying its not as simple as you think. We don't have the time to find him. We already spent enough time dealing with the akumas. Don't you want to go back to your normal lives?"

(The irony that the akuma's had left them busy to begin with remained lost on Ladybug's mind, even as the others inwardly cringed at the statement)

Max however refused to back down on this however. "Ladybug, with all due respect, we have been fighting an akuma every few days now. Some weeks we even had to fight every single day! Shouldn't we try to stop the problem at its source?"

"The problem," Ladybug said through gritted teeth. "is that Hawkmoth is too well hidden. We need to focus on being ready for his next attack, not wasting time on impossible goals. We can stop him for good when he finally gets cocky and shows himself."

"B-But we can't rely on that! Ladybug, he has no reason to show himself because his powers don't require him to be close to be effective. Too many of us got ki- got vanished! If this happens again we could actually be in serious trouble!"

"Look, I'm trying my best here! My plan was still able to work! We succeeded in the end right? We saved the day! That's all that matters! That's all we can do for now!" Ladybug said, her voice getting louder.

"And what if it fails the next time?"

"My plans haven't failed yet! Can't you trust me Pegasus?"

"I do! B-But you haven't been performing optimally! Every time you call us you look extremely tired, and you've begun stuttering at times when you're making a plan in battle! You've been coming to every akuma fight all tense and stressed and-"

Max's voice died out in his throat as the rest of the team flinched. He didn't want to say that word, but it slipped out on accident. The whole teamed had learned that nobody should call Ladybug stressed. But he did.

The effect was near instant. Ladybug's eyes constricted and she began to visibly tense up and shake.

"OH GREAT, NOW ITS YOU TOO! CAN'T YOU SEE YOU'RE NOT THE ONE HAVING TO STRUGGLE HERE?! I'M THE GUARDIAN! I'VE GOT BETTER THINGS TO WORRY ABOUT THAN YOU WASTING MY TIME ON STUPID QUESTIONS!"

Pegasu- no, Max, flinched, but tried to stay strong. Emphasis on tried, even as his confidence began to falter/

"Ladybug look, i'm sorry, but if you could jus-"

"NO, YOU DON'T GET IT. I'M THE ONLY ONE THAT CAN STOP HAWKMOTH. ALL I ASK IS FOR THE REST OF YOU TO JUST LISTEN TO MY PLAN SO THAT WE CAN BEAT THE AKUMA AND GO HOME. BUT NO, YOU HAVE TO QUESTION EVERYTHING I DO LIKE IM DOING EVERYTHING WRONG! I HAVE TO MAKE THE PLAN! WHO ELSE CAN PURIFY THE AKUMA? WHO ELSE CAN SAVE PARIS?" Ladybug yelled as she stormed up to Pegasus, furiously tense and visibly sweating.

"But how are we supposed to save Paris if Hawkmoth is still a threat?!" Max said suddenly, a wave of adrenaline overcoming him as he momentarily met Ladybug's eyes. "We can't keep doing this forever like we have no one that won't miss us, we have our own lives too! We can't keep running off to save Paris when our families don't even know where we are! My mom doesn't know where I am!"

Ladybug narrowed her eyes.

"So this is what this is about?" Ladybug asked questionly with hostility. "That you can't keep up with being ahero? Being a hero means that sometimes we have to do what is necassary for the greater good! Not everyone can run away when you're the only one who had the power to fix it. Its about sacrifice!"

"...but this isn't sacrifice. It's a slaughter." Max said, his voice suddenly going hoarse. He felt tired in that moment, a wave of exhaustion ovecoming him as he slumped forwards. He wanted to be back home, not on these rooftops, but with his best buddy Kim and his great robot friend Markov. His family.

As the rest of the heroes stared in shock at the genius hero looking so defeated, Ladybug stood silently as she appeared apathetic to Max's outburst, merely glancing at him as she looked at her (former?) ally.

"You know what? Fine? If all of this is such a problem for you, then I'll find someone else who can take over for you. The akuma's defeated anyways." Ladybug said seriously, ignoring the shock from some of the more empathetic heroes. "Go to your rendevouz spot and wait for me. I'll come and pick up the Horse Miraculous from you. You're off the team."

Despite having no desire to be Pegasus in that moment, the callousness in Ladybug's statement caused Max to feel angry, his hand curling into a grip as he took a deep breathe in and out.

"You know what? No, I don't think I will." Max said simply, ignoring the shock on Ladybug's face as he turned around. "I'm tired, im exhausted, and I just want to go home. You know where I live, you can come and grab my Miraculous from my house once your done with the rest of your team. I'll take the express route home."

Voyage

With a simple word, Max created a portal beneath his feet, leaving to quickly for anyone to stop him or see where he ended up.

Max crashed into his bed. Quickly detrasnforming, he looked up from his bed to see Markov flying towards him.

"Oh hello Max! You look very tired!"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that buddy." Max replied.

"Oh no! You look upset, did something happen?"

As Max sat up from his bed, he began to recount his story as he changed from his normal outfit into his pyjama's. As Max sat down at the computer, he finished recounting this story to Markov.

"...And that's where I am now. So many other heroes got hurt and I'm worried that we won't be able to take another attack like that, but now Ladybug is mad at me and now I'm off the team! Sure, I don't have to be part of the battle, but it won't help when the next monster of the day suddenly levels Paris's city flat!"

"That sounds like a problem!" Markov replied. Though his emotion program was a bit simple, he felt a bit sad for his friend (and a bit angry at Ladybug, though not enough to trigger an akuma attack).

"Yeah, tell me about it. Not to mention that Hawkmoth is still out there, wherever he's hiding."

As Markov began to ponder how he could help his friends mood, a thought came to him.

"Perhaps we could solve this Hawkmoth issue ourselves."

"W-What? Markov I don't think thats possible. I mean, I am about to lose the Horse Miraculous once Ladybug finds me, I don't think we can do much against a magical supervillain."

"True, but as you said to Ladybug, fighting isn't doing us much good at the moment either. In order to stop the akuma's we need to solve the problem at the source. By all accounts, there's a 99% probability that Hawkmoth is a normal human adult outside of his costume. All we need to do is find out who Hawkmoth is and then we can catch him off guard to defeat him! Simple is it not?"

Max contemplated the idea, slowly nodding as he agreed with Markov. "That does seem like a good idea... but where can we start? It's not like we can just track down where he lives. Paris is huge!"

"So we will just have to go for the next two best things. His akumas and his victims! If we can track where those butteflies come from and where they are headed, we can follow them back to his lair!"

"His lair Markov?"

The robot nodded. "I don't remember much when I was Robustus, but I was able to recover a still image of Hawkmoth from his perspective! Apparently he has a huge lair from which he hides!"

"Wait, you had this the whole time? Why not tell anyone?"

"... I didn't think it was useful" Markov said embarrassingly.

Max decided to let it go though as he began to formulate an idea. "So... he sends his akuma's from a lair. So in order to find the lair we need to find the where the akuma's are flying from..."

Slowly, Max looked through his room. Scattered about were serveral drones, some of which were dismantled in order to create the shell for Markov's AI. If he could create a program to speciifically track down these akuma's...

His thought process was interrupted by a knock on his window, Max turned to see the window opened by an unimpressed Ladybug.

"Max"

"... Ladybug"

"the Horse Miraculous. Where is it?"

Wordlessly, Max gave her the box. Ignoring the look on her face, Max opened his laptop as he began to write a code on his laptop.

Ladybug contined to stare at him.

"You know, I was really hoping that you would have reconsidered your actions when I asked you to go to the rendevous point. I'm disappointed to see that I was proven wrong. Especially with that stunt you pulled."

Max continued to ignore her as he kept typing.

Ladybug sniffed her nose as she turned to leave. "Don't expect me to call you again ever. If this is how you are going to act when you are freaking out, then you don't deserve to be on this team."

Max never took his eyes off the computer, even as Markov stared angrily at Ladybug, wanting to say something but feeling like he should not interrupt. His eyes smiling as his code and his plan started to form together.

"Go ahead. Find someone else. Superhero work wasn't cut for me anyways. I'm much better when i'm using my brain anyways. I know what I need to do now. Besides, if being on the team means being treated that way, I'll pass. Last thing I need is to follow another Chloe."

Ladybug flinched, before leaving Max's room, yoyo flying in the distance.

Max didn't notice though. He had a plan.

One that would surely deal with this akuma plan once and for all.

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

Hi everyone! Hope you like this new idea i've had for a while now! Sorry if it feels rushed, I wrote this while feeling quite tired. I'm making plans for a part 2 and 3, but please let me know what you guys think!

[darkstarofchaos]

Thank you for fighting the good fight for Prowl. I just joined the fandom this year, and honestly, I love him so much, and you’ve already put into words exactly how I feel about him. Also, thank you for validating my hatred for Megatron. Between TF One and IDW, I’ve gone from meh to straight-up loathing his entire existence. Like, why is his redemption arc so wacky? It genuinely felt like he got off scot-free so easily, with no one holding any real bad blood against him unlike Prowl. Everyone was just like, “uwu poor Megatron” or whatever, and it drove me insane. It felt like IDW was written just to create more Megatron simps. I don’t even care if I’m wrong about his redemption or IDW as a whole—if the fandom can misinterpret Prowl to death, then I can yap about how much I hate Megatron’s redemption arc and whole existence, lmao. I’ll never get over how a literal genocidal warlord somehow got more support and sympathy points than Prowl. Please, give me a Megatron redemption where he actually has to work for it—not one handed to him on a silver platter by an idiotic fool. it feels so undeserved. I want MEGATRON to be punched by many of his victims. Even Starscream, his number one punching bag lived a miserable life in Cybertron. I’ll never agree that IDW was a masterpiece. I hate that shit so much, lol. Anyway, where was I? Oh, right—just wanted to say how much I love reading your posts about Prowl. Keep doing what you’re doing. :)

You're very welcome! Prowl is easily my favorite Autobot, and the way he's treated by both the fandom and the IDW narrative makes me want to bite people. Especially when compared to other characters who are just as bad if not worse (I saw a post when Prowl was confirmed for EarthSpark that said not making him a cop would be bad because it would be ignoring his history of police brutality, and I was just like. Prowl and Orion worked together as cops for a while, guess which one of them repeatedly yelled at the other for using violence. Not that Prowl's record is completely clean, but the hero cop who advocates for violence is a way bigger problem than the social outcast who looked at the system and saw corruption).

Anyway.

I must admit that I actually like Megatron in general, but I really hate this recent trend of Megatron being the only Decepticon canon cares about. TF One could have given us two Bots and two Cons, but not a single other Decepticon got more than maybe five minutes of screentime. EarthSpark made him the only Decepticon who changed sides, then doubled down on the worst elements of his "redemption" by making him the only Decepticon who's allowed to be sympathetic. Every crossover I've seen between Transformers and various video games only includes Megatron as the Decepticon representation.

(Also, unpopular opinion, but I feel like Megatron having a history with Optimus is the weakest part of his character in almost every continuity. Especially in IDW, where it's literally a Get Out of Jail Free card).

And of course, as soon as Prowl shows up in EarthSpark, people are complaining about him getting on Megatron's case. Even though he was actually really open-minded about Megatron's presence, and just accepted that he'd truly changed sides even if he didn't personally trust him. I was over here expecting an entire episode based around Prowl fighting with others about Megatron's trustworthiness, and people had a problem with a couple openly antagonistic comments.

Primus forbid a mech do anything, I guess.

[gayofthefae]

If you truly ignore Byler proof, there's a 50% chance. Because there is a 50% chance that a random guy in Arizona (with the last name Duffer) opened his laptop and typed out "boys kiss" and emailed it to a bunch of actors. For all the talk on how difficult it is to get a single shot, writing that is actually surprisingly simple and fast.

You're convinced that the people in your real life you believe are straight are, and honestly? That's what this is about. You can process that later, but do process it. Mike, however, is completely made up. Fictional. Doesn't exist. He is a puppet controlled by writers with free will. His relationship with a woman has 0 bearing on his queerness, (especially if he's bisexual, jesus christ guys, dating El doesn't disprove bisexuality).

At most baseline of a love triangle I'd say it's a coin flip.

People act like it's harder to write "Mike kisses Will instead" than to write, say "Nancy kisses Steve instead" because of their OWN mental block of him being queer. But there aren't actually any extra steps. All Mike has to do to have feelings for Will is say he does. All Finn has to do is act like it.

It is not as difficult to make a character queer as it is for you to accept them as queer, and that's what people are equating. It does not require any additional effort than any other situation in which one character is wanted by two characters. It is equally easy to put them with either one.

People act like just because Mike doesn't currently have overt feelings for Will that there are lots of steps on the road to that. There aren't.

The most planless, bullshit way of doing it they could do is to say "everything up until now - the I love you, all of it, was 100% true, but in this year and a half time jump, I have developed feelings for Will". A slightly better quality, equally as easy one would be "I believed everything I said and did was true, but I realized during this time jump that this whole time I actually had feelings for Will. I believed my actions but that doesn't make them true." Rewatchable, which we know they want.

Then, of course, the most commonly understood one, "I really believed I/was in love with you seasons 1-4 but learning that Will was the one behind the painting and that he knew me so well and made me feel so loved and felt that way made me realize I love him now." Cyrano, of course. We've seen it before, we know how it ends.

I, of course, prefer the more complicated, and therefore more accurate - and simply more interesting - versions, but this is on the assumption that they did not intend it and changed their minds when they sat down for season 5 or something.

Still easy as hell. So fucking easy. Tell Finn to look goofy at Will, don't even have to right lines about it, then have him talk to El and say any of the above lines. Written as bad as that, it doesn't totally matter. He will then, canonically and from the show's beginning when you rewatch it, be queer. Period, full stop. Tap Finn Wolfhard on the shoulder and whisper "be gay" and your job is done. It is very, very easy, actually.

People think that because represents him, they know everything about him automatically. But there are cases where you aren't him. You're the people around him. And just like them, you think he's straight. There are things I think about him that are projections of me, not analyses of the character. Yours is that he's straight. That came from you, not him.

People only act like it's hard because it's hard for them to wrap their heads around. But these aren't people who are magnetically repelled based on gender attraction. They're barbie dolls you're mashing together. You can pick whichever ones you want.

You may be Mike Wheeler. But the writers are 2x06 Erica Sinclair.

if a character canonically has a crush on another character (assuming it's legal), that means that the ship is a possibility. it's on the table. there's a chance of a relationship there. maybe if one of the characters is 100% canon confirmed not to be attracted to the gender of the other character, you could argue there's no chance, but unless they've outright stated so, it's on the table. it's an option. stop telling us byler isn't fucking possible. call it unlikely if you want - it's still an option now, whether you like it or not. get the fuck off my ass

[jacquitries]

The Gravity of Light | F.W.

Fred Weasley has always burned brightly, his laughter filling rooms and his presence impossible to ignore. But beneath the charisma and charm lies a quieter truth. A yearning to be seen for more than his bravado. In you, Fred finds not only recognition but a balance to his flame, a gravity that anchors him in ways he didn’t realize he needed. In this universe, you chose him.

Click here to read an alternate universe where you chose George instead of Fred.

𓆘 𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘 𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘 𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘 𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘

Fred has always been a firework, dazzling and fleeting, leaving behind echoes of laughter and smoke in his wake. People couldn’t help but be drawn to him, their eyes following his every move, their smiles growing wider in his orbit. He thrived in that attention, wearing it like armor.

But even fireworks burn out.

There were nights when the applause faded and the world grew quiet, and Fred was left with the weight of it all. The pressure to always be the brightest, to always carry the joke, the confidence, the charm. And in those quiet moments, he wondered if anyone truly saw beyond the shine.

George did, of course. George always did. Fred’s twin was his mirror, his anchor, the only person who could read him without effort. But even George had his limits. His own shadows to wrestle with and Fred never blamed him for that.

And then, there was you.

You didn’t arrive with fanfare. No spotlight followed you, no grand entrance announced your presence. And yet, Fred noticed you immediately. Perhaps it was the way your smile wasn’t drawn out by the loudest voice in the room, or the way your gaze held steady, unafraid to meet his. You didn’t seem dazzled by his theatrics, nor did you dismiss them. You simply… saw him.

At first, Fred didn’t know what to do. He tested you, pushing boundaries with his usual quips and charm, expecting you to respond like everyone else. But you didn’t. Instead, you met his wit with quiet amusement and his boldness with steady resolve. You didn’t get lost in his fire. You reflected it back at him, grounding him in ways he hadn’t known he needed.

It was subtle, the way you slipped into his world. A quiet presence amidst the chaos. You saw through the bravado to the boy beneath, the one who craved more than just laughter and attention. And you gave him that. You gave him more.

Fred found himself seeking you out without meaning to, drawn to the gravity you provided. He caught himself smiling at the sound of your laugh, softer than his but no less intoxicating. He noticed the way you listened, really listened, when he spoke, as though his words carried weight beyond the punchlines.

One evening, as the shop bustled with noise and laughter, Fred found you watching him from across the room. Not George, not the crowd — him. Your gaze was steady, warm, and it lit something within him that even the loudest applause never could.

“Why me?” he asked you once, the question slipping out before he could stop it.

You smiled, a quiet, knowing thing. “Because you’re you, Fred. Isn’t that enough?”

He didn’t have an answer for that. Not then. But in the days and weeks that followed, he began to understand.

George noticed the change, of course. It was impossible not to. Fred, who had always been larger than life, seemed steadier now — his fire burning just as bright, but with a warmth that hadn’t been there before. George, who had spent his life at Fred’s side, found himself stepping back. Not out of resentment, but out of quiet admiration.

Still, that didn’t stop him from noticing other things. Like the way your laughter spilled into a room, tugging at the edges of his thoughts long after the sound had faded. Or the way your gaze softened when Fred spoke, a look George had never realized he wanted for himself until he saw it directed at someone else.

There were moments, though—fleeting and delicate—when your eyes seemed to stray. Not to Fred, but to him. Those moments made something in George stir, something he quickly pushed down. After all, you had chosen Fred. And Fred, as always, shone the brightest.

One evening, after the shop had closed and the air was thick with the scent of burnt parchment from an earlier mishap, George found Fred in the backroom. His twin was bent over a prototype, his brows furrowed in concentration, the soft glow of his wand casting shadows across his face.

“You’ve got her,” George said, his voice low but certain as he leaned against the doorframe. His words hung in the air for a moment, heavier than he intended. “And I’ve got your back.”

Fred stilled, his wand pausing midair. When he turned, his grin wasn’t the sharp, confident one he wore for the world—it was softer, edged with something that looked like understanding.

“You’re alright, you know that?” Fred said, crossing the distance to clap George on the shoulder. His grip was firm, grounding, as though he knew exactly what George wasn’t saying.

“Don’t get sappy on me, Fred,” George quipped, his lips curving into a grin. But his voice held a faint tightness, and his eyes shimmered with an unspoken truth.

Fred chuckled, the sound breaking the tension, but it didn’t erase what lingered between them. George would never say it aloud. How he’d seen you too, how he’d wondered, just for a moment, what it might have been like if things were different.

But Fred was his brother. And for George, that was enough.

Later that night, as you sat beside Fred, your hand brushing his beneath the table, he felt the world shift again. For the first time, he wasn’t afraid of burning too brightly or fading too soon. With you, he was more than the firework. He was the flame, steady and constant, burning for himself—and for you.

And for once, that was enough.

[garez19]

yandere! best friend’s brother x reader (pt.2)

notes/warnings: sibling abuse, gender neutral reader, english is not my language, i have ABSOLUTELY no idea how to use punctuation, not proofread

i really hope this one’s turned out okay. im pretty new at this whole blogging concept so… bear with me.

wc: 1.6k

[part 1] [part 2]

six months had passed since you graduated. you had been trying your best to find the common ground between iris and emil for six months.

as you both pursued your education further, you and iris had already picked different career paths, which meant your schedules weren’t as aligned anymore. however, you were still her best friend, and you were always going to be her best friend. iris, the master of destroying everything she’d ever touched, somehow couldn't break you, no matter how hard she tried. and for that, she felt blessed. you must’ve been a gift sent by gods, a reminder that she was, in some ways, truly special.

yet you weren’t sure if she'd still think that once she found out you started hanging out with emil. it shouldn’t have been such a big deal, but it was. hell, it wasn't even your idea.

it all started 6 months ago, the day you’d met in the coffee shop—desperate, looking for salvation in his demolished mind, and about to break. ready to collapse, something his sister wasn't able to cause. the reason he took the lead. the only thing iris wasn’t able to accomplish, which was why he took the lead—slowly, trying not to startle you.

“mind explaining why you’re telling me all this?” he asked as you took another sip from your coffee. he had reason to be confused, and you couldn't really blame him when he implied you were doing all this to feel about yourself.

“because, like I said, you don’t deserve it. and because I know iris is better than that,” you answered. he let out a loud sigh while contemplating leaving, not wanting to communicate with someone who idealized iris to this point. then he imagined the look on her face when she realized you were not her very dear friend anymore. he decided to pursue you a little bit more.

“okay, thank you, appreciate it,” he replied indifferently as he leaned in closer to you, “and how are you going to help me exactly?” he mumbled. were you going to try and fail miserably again? you pulled back to regain space. “I will try and talk to her. and then–” he cut you off, “I don’t want you to.” he was so certain about not wanting help, which certainly pushed you off.

“emil, you need–” you tried once more, yet he interrupted again, “look, I’m the one who has to deal with her when you’re done lecturing, and I don’t want any part of it, okay?” he took a deep breath. “I’m not a child anymore.”

you were so much like iris in the sense that you only did whatever seemed the best for you, and never looked back. he could sense that, hell, he could see that. and you seemed confused—like a spoiled kid who wouldn’t take no as an answer, like it was your first time getting rejected. and it seemed you needed some guidance, as you kept opening and closing your mouth.

“hang out with me.”

you were baffled by the sudden request. because, from what you’d seen, emil made it very clear that he didn’t like you any better than his sister. you looked at the dessert—a slice of cheesecake, untouched.

“if you want to help in some way, just hang out with me. I don’t have any friends, and I'm feeling quite bored.” he added. and you highly doubted it, given that you had seen him with a handful of people. but you did not really have the guts to turn him down, especially when he put it like that. he put the cheesecake right in front of you, as if he was getting ready to leave.

“well, sure.” you answered before he said anything. “should I keep it a secret from her?” you asked. you still didn’t want iris to cause him –and you– a headache. even though you still felt like she deserved knowing, no matter what.

“yeah, ideally,” he affirmed. dealing with iris was not quite the biggest problem, but her realizing the toy she’d adored so dearly was about to be taken wasn’t something he wished to happen so early. not when you were still a mere puppet of iris. (no matter how hard you tried to act like a saint) not when you were going to crawl back to her the moment she called out your name.

but no matter what, if she wasn’t willing to share her toys, he was going to carve one out for himself, one that is almost identical to hers.

***

you failed to understand how your best friend was cruel to such a person. you failed to understand why the two were never able to get along when emil was nothing but compatible all the time. he was okay with everything, not because he didn’t want to upset you –or anyone, for that matter– but because he never seemed to have any strong preferences for anything. he liked going around the town for new adventures, but if you wanted to sit down and drink a cup of coffee, who was he to say no?

“have you decided what you want to study?” you asked as he was absently scribbling down some song lyrics of an old band, wearing only one earbud. “I’m thinking of medicine,” he replied, still seeming unbothered. emil had a knack for biology, and he liked exploring the world studying it. he looked up at you when you didn’t give him a reaction, “how are your studies going?” you grabbed your book on the table and put it back in your backpack. “not bad, I guess.” you muttered. you two, seemingly bored with your little studying session, had agreed to study together at least twice a week. it felt nice, and although emil and iris didn’t resemble each other personality-wise, they still brought a similar type of comfort to you.

and they brought a similar type of suffering.

“your phone’s going off.” emil said as he looked at the phone on the table.

iris🤍

you took a peek at emil. he seemed still, not looking at you but the phone. he didn’t seem upset, bothered or disappointed. and it was as if he simply was not there. he just observed the whole scene as a spectator.

you took the call. and to be fair there wasn’t anything new. she kept going on and on about how busy she was, and how much she missed you, and if you were available anytime soon. you truly missed her too, but there was some weird sting on your stomach—like it was making sure you remember you keep secrets from her.

and well, it felt so stupid, if you had to be honest, because at the end of the day you didn’t do anything wrong.

“do you still only talk to me because you feel sorry?” he said, making you snap out of it.

“pardon?” you were taken aback by the sudden question.

“are you still trying to feel better about yourself?” he accused once more. still not a visible expression on his face, as if he simply asked out of curiosity.

you didn’t answer, more like, you didn’t bother to answer.

“it’s not like I’ve done anything I should feel bad about myself.” was all you told him. and when it was time to leave and you finally saw an expression on his face–a sour one specifically– you smiled.

“sure, there were times I felt bad, but I’ve never done anything out of pity.” you said genuinely. and you then saw another expression again, one you hadn’t witnessed until that moment: he was surprised.

then you left. to meet iris. your loveliest friend.

***

emil was intrigued by how honest you sounded. you didn’t try to hide anything, nor did you feel the need to sound sympathetic. it was a short, silly sentence. it was the sentence he wished he had heard six months ago, as it gave him a different type of rush—a different kind of validation. you weren’t running out with him for redemption. you liked his company–to a degree, at least.–

he didn’t care about iris, her stupid mind games, or his parents’ unconditional love for her, her promising future, or even her petty rivalry with him. because after all, it’d be a funny scene to watch when she found out you were, in fact, not hers.

however, he was still going to remove that white heart next to her name once he got his hands on your phone.

***

the more you’d spent time with him, the more anxious you started to get. you liked emil’s company, that much was true, but you were also frightened whenever you imagined iris’ disappointment.

you were not doing anything wrong. you were not. you were not. you

“you’re definitely going to fail.” emil said while he took notes on his book. damn, it really felt like you were cheating on your spouse sometimes.

“yeah, whatever, I’m bored.” you whined. “you still haven’t got any friends?” you suddenly asked; not realizing how that sounded, nor what came over you. he turned to you quickly. oh, welp.

“and what if I have?” he blurted.

“what? I was just wondering.” you said, laughing awkwardly. your nervousness made him snap back.

“just for the record, I haven't,” he chuckled. “I’m afraid you’ll be stuck with me for a little longer.”

although you hadn't noticed the tension, his firm grip on the pen very much proved he wasn’t feeling that humorous today.

another study session had ended. you were stretching your back while emil put your stuff in your backpack.

“come over for dinner tomorrow.” just when you were ready to go, he hit you with the offer.

however, having dinner with emil and iris as a friend of both of them was not the idea you’d had for tomorrow. definitely not.

[knaveumineko]

Umineko Episode 1 Blog: None Shall Be Left Alive

We're on the home stretch. It's time to present my final (for now) theory on what happened in Episode 1.

The last few murders are probably the simplest of the lot to pull off. The deaths of the last few servants are pretty simple if you're assuming that the servants were in on the conspiracy the whole time. Maria claiming to have seen the witch again doesn't matter if you assume that the witch is "possessing" people and that the servants simply mislead her. Natsuhi's death was either a suicide after reading the contents of the final letter, or a more straightforward murder by the culprit, who was lying in wait for her. The latter seems a bit more likely, given the disappearance of the final letter.

I'm skimming over all of that because we need to talk about that final scene. I'm going to level with you: I completely misread this scene the first time. It's a good thing I'm writing this blog or else I would have been moving forward with a pretty huge misunderstanding.

On the first read, I somehow thought that this just meant Maria was running up to the portrait for some reason, and there was some colourful narration being used to cover up what was going on in the cousins' final moments. In my defense, it was very late at night and a lot of crazy stuff happened at once.

OK, so with our dual assumptions that magic isn't real and there's no 19th person, this scene explicitly confirms that at least one of the people we saw dead somehow survived, and that this dead person is the culprit after all. Rereading Maria's narration also reminded me that Maria recognises the culprit as the Beatrice.

This leads me to an angle I haven't tried yet. I think I've been a little too married to one specific theory and not considering other possibilities, and now's the time to correct that.

What happens if we assume every single person who Maria recognises as the witch is the same person? That is:

The person who gave Maria an umbrella and letter

The person who Shannon met in the halls the night before her death

The person Maria is referring to in the scene with Battler and the servants in the kitchen, when she says that the witch is in the room with them at that moment

The person who Kanon met before he died

The person the cousins see at the very end of the story

I argued way back when that Kanon gave Maria the umbrella, but Shannon and Kumasawa's alibis are also extremely weak. Maria's claim that the witch was in the room with her during the scene in the kitchen implies that the witch is Genji, Kumasawa or Kanon. The one the cousins met at the end of the story has to be someone we thought was dead, but not Genji, Nanjo, Kumasawa or Natsuhi.

The only person who plausibly meets all of these criteria is Kanon. I mentioned earlier that I think him meeting the witch in the boiler room could be metaphorical, so I don't see that as a huge roadblock.

This reading would imply that Kanon faked his death somehow. I guess we'd need Shannon's death to be fake, too, since Kanon definitely wouldn't kill her? Also, there's this:

I previously had no idea what to make of this end text, but under this new interpretation the game is basically telling us that Shannon and Kanon are alive at the end of the story. Notably, Maria's line does not say that Rosa is alive. It only says that Maria somehow received the her lost parental love. In some way, the wound within her was healed.

It's troubling to me that this theory requires us to assume that even the most convincing of corpses can be faked, but in all fairness this was never a mystery that relied heavily on material evidence. It's all about using storytelling to figure out what's going on, and this seems like a pretty good story. I suppose if we "spin the chessboard around" then the reason the faces were mutilated was to help sell the idea that Shannon was truly dead, and then the other bodies had the same done to them because it would look weird if only one of the bodies was marked this way. In any case, with this final scene we absolutely need to assume that at least some corpses are fake. There's unfortunately no getting around that.

We should also discuss the epitaph. When I first read it, it occured to me that the directions match the island pretty well. Battler makes a point of describing the initial path as pointlessly long and circuitous, like a river. There are a handful of buildings dotted about the island, with a small population living there, like a village. The story goes out of its way to have the grandchildren and Shannon visit a beach, which matches the shore that the "key" is supposed to be located at. Narratively speaking, it would make sense for the epitaph's directions to refer to places on the island, since these are the only places that the characters can access. We could also speculate that, much like the story itself, the epitaph is being tricky and switching perspectives, so that "my beloved hometown" actually refers to Beatrice's hometown. Beatrice is said to live in the woods of Rokkenjima and be the head of house by night.

With these revelations, my guess for how it all went down is something like this:

Kinzo died ages ago, but Natsuhi kept up the illusion that he was alive to help her husband stall for time, and to finally claim some real power for herself. Kinzo's inner circle help to maintain this lie.

Shannon goes to the beach with the grandchildren and finds the "key," whatever that means.

Kanon visits Maria in the gardens, claims to be the witch Beatrice, and gives her the letter and umbrella. It was hoped that this letter would provoke the killing to begin. The seal was done using Kinzo's ring, which was stolen from wherever it was being kept after he died however long ago.

The siblings turn on eachother during their argument over the inheritance and begin murdering eachother. The servants agree that this is the Demons' Roulette choosing appropriate sacrifices, and so they start carrying out the ritual described in the epitaph, in accordance with Kinzo's will.

In order to ensure there are enough sacrifices, Gohda is killed and Shannon's death is faked. The servants also clean up whichever of the siblings survived the initial altercation. I'm thinking the servants would probably only have to kill maybe 2 or 3 people tops at a time, which seems more reasonable than someone Rambo-ing 6 people solo.

That morning, Natsuhi enters the study after being bullied into it by Eva, and lies about Kinzo being up there, maintaining her deception.

After the bodies are discovered, Natsuhi decides that her facade can't survive a police investigation and takes the convenient out of claiming that Kinzo has mysteriously disappeared.

The servants enter Eva and Hideyoshi's room with the excuse of serving dinner, and instead murder both of them. They then create a fake locked room mystery by cutting the chain to the door and telling everyone else that the door was locked when they discovered the scene. The letter was simply written by one of the servants the same way the last one was.

Kanon may have also gone back to the storehouse and let Shannon out around this time, since the story mentions him going there anyway.

Kanon's death in the boiler room was faked somehow. Maybe he had Shannon's help, and the one fleeing from the boiler room is her. Shannon may also have been the one who deposited Kinzo's body in the incinerator at this point, since she was free to act while everyone thought she was dead.

The servants have another letter, which was intended to help fulfil the "praise my noble name" part of the epitaph. They place this letter on the table whilst Natsuhi and the grandchildren aren't looking. It is notable that Maria does not claim that Beatrice was the one who put the letter on the table.

When the servants and Maria are forced to leave by Natsuhi, they meet Kanon, who was already hiding in the parlour. Genji locks the door, and then Kanon comes out of hiding while Maria isn't looking. He tells her that he entered by turning into butterflies, and then instructs her to look the other way and start singing.

The servants allow Kanon to set up their bodies in accordance with the epitaph, and then Kanon unlocks the door, leaves the letter, makes a phone call to the study, and flees the scene.

After discovering the bodies, Natsuhi reads whatever is written in the letter (a confession, perhaps?) and leaves to challenge the culprit, making sure to seal the door to the parlour so the kids can't follow.

Despite her efforts, Natsuhi is defeated due to being outnumbered and the culprits lying in wait for her. The culprits take the letter Natsuhi was holding with them.

Kanon and Shannon reveal themselves to the surviving grandchildren, thus fulfilling Jessica and George's wishes for them to return to life. They then all travel to the Golden Land, whatever that means. Perhaps understanding this Golden Land would be the key to understanding the grandchildrens' disappearance? Unfortunately, I don't see a way to progress much further on the epitaph, so I can't speculate much on this.

This will be my working theory going forward. With this, I will finally move on to the rest of the story and find out exactly how and why I'm completely wrong about everything.

[nadas-dirthalen]

I told my DnD group I was playing Veilguard and my DM was like 'ugh, sorry' and I gave him such a scolding.

And then his girlfriend took my "some of the writing's a little meh but I'm having fun!" And was like 'you just said it was meh! That means you're not having fun! Those two things are mutually exclusive!"

I CAN ENJOY THINGS. LET ME ENJOY THINGS.

Let me tell you. I personally converted half my dnd party to be Dragon Age enjoyers because I started theorycrafting AT them. Truly, I think people just need to take a step away from clickbaity titles and engagement farming through anger and really LOOK at this game. Really LOOK at how resonant it is.

Like. Of course I have not seen every post in existence, but even among Veilguard's strongest critics, I see consistent praise for act 3. But is that ever covered when people are clearly farming engagement via their hatred? No! Generally, no!

My hope, as always, is that people start to see more nuance as time goes on, as it stops being trendy to hate Veilguard.

Happy, as always, to have more people here who enjoy things alongside me, and alongside everyone else here. 💛 It seriously means so much that people are still coming with asks about how much they love the game, because it makes my day to see them, every SINGLE time!!

[sokkas-first-fangirl]

In your Constellations Shift story, how would the townsfolk react to Bruno being confirmed as the next candle holder? Any people seeking forgiveness, showing genuine remorse, possible brown nosing?

My plans was for a mix of "all of the above." Some people would feel genuinely sorry, others would just be trying to cover their own asses

However, I did have one moment planned with Osvaldo!

Bruno wasn't surprised to hear people mutter this was somehow his fault. Bad Luck Bruno and blah blah blah. He rolled his eyes, biting back the urge to snap, "Do I look like I care?"

His mother had bawled her eyes out on his shoulder, clinging to him and begging forgiveness. He, his nieces and sisters, had discovered that Julieta's Gift was capable of some truly insane things just before Casita fell. As Casita collapsed, as Bruno raced after Mirabel in her mad dash for the Candle...

Well. What she'd shouted at Alma had proven true. His hand glowed with the same mark Alma had, only his was on his palm. There and gone again, blazing to life as his hand brushed against the Miracle when he tried to pull Mirabel away.

Wonderful, stubborn girl. Too brave for her own good.

But anyway- compared to all that insanity, a few mutters and scowls didn't make a dent.

He was in for a surprise though. As Manuel Sanchez glared at Bruno and not-so-quietly said to his lackeys that he knew who to blame for Casita's collapse, the Miracle's death and the new mountain pass, Osvaldo spoke up.

"Don't talk about my friend like that!" Osvaldo snapped. For such a happy-go-lucky guy, he suddenly looked ferocious. "He didn't do anything wrong! Now are you going to help or just stand around and whine?"

He saw Félix's mouth drop open. Pepa regarded Osvaldo with new and sudden respect in her eyes. Mirabel squealed outright, hands clasped together. Isabela just said, "Huh...What do ya know?" staring at Osvaldo like she'd never seen him before.

Bruno tried and failed to comprehend what Osvaldo just said.

As Manuel and his idiot brigade took the hint and dispersed, Bruno said, "Um...Thanks, Osvaldo. You didn't have to do that."

"Sure I did," Osvaldo said with a shrug and a smile, more like his usual, guileless self. "What are friends for?"

Friends. Seriously? Were they...

Suddenly, Bruno looked back at the last forty-five years of knowing Osvaldo in a new light. The clumsy attempts at conversation, the loud proclamations that not being special didn't matter, the (seemingly) judgmental questions about his rats and the books he read...That hadn't been Osvaldo being a busy-body, had it? Osvaldo thought they were friends. The "Not Special-Special" had actually been an attempt to cheer Bruno up, hadn't it?

Díos mio, Bruno thought blankly. Osvaldo had never been mean, certainly not, but Bruno always thought of him as...well-meaning but oblivious.

Apparently more well-meaning than Bruno had realised.

He felt like a total ass.

"Uh, sure," he agreed hurriedly. "Friends."

[ai-demi]

I believe it was a divine intervention who wrote Will Solace on the narrative because how the fuck is he so interesting with so little screentime in the original series? This child who lost siblings and couldn’t even mourn them because he was dragged left and right to help, this child who became a talented and great healer at the ripe age of 12 and became a prodigy at 13, this child who kept absorbing pain and pushing down anger, this child who faced his trauma with a Trademarked Solace Smile and makes everyone feel safe besides himself, this child who had to be a dependable pillar, this child who saw death for so many times and had to accept it, this child, this child, this child whom everyone turns to at all times, this child who’s still only 16 and hasn’t properly been himself much because he has a duty that he loves and must uphold—helping and healing, something he deemed he could only do for others because he believed couldn’t do anything else. This child who got so scared when his best friend went missing, when his remaining siblings went missing, when he thought his father didn’t recognize him. This child who swallows his sadness. This child who was afraid of not being enough, who was afraid that people might leave him if he wasn’t—this child was afraid of people leaving him, because his own Dad did, his relationship with his Mom was not told much, the older siblings he loved left him by death, and he was nervous if Nico will leave him too. This child who feared losing the love of his life so he turned to his anger, his rage, his wrath—all pent up and went loose for a few minutes at Night herself and gave her a fucking hay fever. This child who had his own identity, who had and still has endless possibilities regarding who he is, his powers, and feelings yet reduced to just being a silly, goofy, perfect boyfriend healer of Nico di Angelo who never had a bad day and is stable—and some people loathe him for being “Nico’s Boyfriend” as if it’s his fault. This child is William Andrew Solace and I believe none of us has truly met him fully.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Kiss Kiss Fallen Tree!

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[pleaseinsertwittyurl]

There are always 2 sides.

The discourse around Louis and Lestat being a victim and abuser and nothing more drives me insane.

Something i don't think enough people remember is that the very same reason the fight began in 1×05 (lestat grabbing claudia by the throat when she tries to "take louis away") we see Louis himself do to her in 1×07 when she tries to get Louis to burn Lestat.

They BOTH would harm her rather than live in a world without the other. They are both guilty of abusing her and each other.

There is an implication that a good deal of time passed between Louis and Lestat meeting and the church. Louis expresses that he shares himself with Lestat in a way he only had with Paul. I would assume that goes both ways, to a degree. We know Louis knows at least enough about Nicki to discourage Claudia poking that wound. He also clearly knows that the threat of leaving is his most powerful weapon against Lestat.

Mental abuse is abuse. And Louis abused Lestat mentally for years. Shaming him, ridiculing him, shutting him out, manipulating him into making Claudia (a traumatic moment for him, whether Louis understands the depths of it or not) by promising to give him what he's being denying him, promising to never put him through what he fears the most.

Louis admits to purposely making Lestat suffer. He admits he was warned that Claudia would suffer and he wanted her anyway because he needed to feel redeemed. He is not innocent. He is not a trapped, weak victim. He made choices to hurt both Lestat and Claudia time and time again.

Does this justify Lestat's actions in 1×05? Obviously not. But we now know Louis was not willing to stop the fight. He taunted Lestat the same way he taunted the Alderman. He was unleashing years of frustrations just as Lestat was. His priority was not to protect Claudia, it was to hurt Lestat, consequences be damned.

I hate the drop scene as much as the next person and Lestat has admitted he will never earn forgiveness for what he did. But if you view Louis as some squeaky clean victim who was manipulated, trapped, and abused by Lestat you are missing so much of what this show is conveying.

We will always tend to paint ourselves as the hero of our own story. It is hard to accept your faults or that you hurt people you love. It is much easier to shift that blame on to someone else, to frame them as the villian. But life is not usually that black and white. Claudia had harsh words for them both in her diary, even before they got to Europe, for a reason. They both made hurtful mistakes with her, both treated her like a pawn in their relationship instead of a person, both harmed her, took away her choice, never prioritized her.

That is the great tragedy. That she never had a choice and was not allowed to be her own person. And in the end, they both are responsible for her misery and her death. That's what makes the reunion scene so important. They have been grieving her and carrying that guilt alone, all the while longing for the comfort of the other for 70+ years. Louis has found clarity in his memories, he has accepted his role in their suffering, he has seen Lestat's perspective more fully. Lestat is broken, totally consumed with that guilt and grief. Both know that although they cannot change what they've done, they can forgive the other, even if they can't forgive themselves. They can love each other despite everything they've done to one another because they cannot stop loving each other. But now they can try to rebuild that love from the rubble.