#she’s like practically the same character

[zoe-oneesama]

The Kwamis! Some of these came easier than others, but since Angelic Layer has no magic involved, all the kwamis became human~ They won't be very prevalent, they're mostly here to fill in background character roles - shop clerks, MCs Tournament Directors, fans - so they won't have a whole lot of speaking roles (aside from, you know, the MCs who're there to commentate on the fights lol). But I thought I'd give them all a nice nod in the story somewhere.

As expected, Tikki and Plagg are the main MCs. Marinette and Adrien's fights will be going on concurrently so Tikki will be commentating Marinette's fights while Plagg commentates on Adrien's. They'll have the most dialogue of the kwamis, so I do want them to have unique ways of discussing what they're seeing.

Pollen will be working directly for the Bourgeois'. As a VIP with a direct relationship with the international director of Angelic Layer, Chloe has her own private practice layer in her home and Pollen is in charge of it's upkeep and maintenance. She matches Armand the Bulter's levels of competence.

Trixx is a Rena Rouge mega fan. They've been following Alya's blog for as long as they can remember and are mega stoked that Alya moved to their city. When Alya starts to doubt herself, it's Trixx's voice that can be heard cheering her on to not give up.

Nooroo and Duusu are servants in the Agreste Estate. Unknown to Adrien, they are fully aware of his sneaking around to play and the two do what they can to make excuses and deflect Nathalie when Adrien isn't where he's supposed to be. They're rooting him on from the shadows!

Wayzz is the adult son of Marianne and Fu. He brings them to Angelic Layer fights against his will because the two really enjoy them. The two seem to be really invested in Ladybug and Chat Noir's career (and the behind the scenes shenanigans that they secretly spy on).

Longg is Kagami's bodyguard. Like Nooroo and Duusu, they are fully aware of what Kagami is doing behind her mother's back and feigns ignorance when Kagami pulls something..."sneaky" to get to a fight secretly.

Here's where we get into some existing jobs from the show:

Orikko and Kaalki are the "Layer Hot Girls (and boy)". lol I just thought it was funny that Angelic Layer even has them.

Mullo is the sales clerk at the Princess Piffle store (the store where you can buy your Angel and all the accessories). All of them lol. Mullo and her many many sisters who look just like her.

Barkk and Fluff take similar but still different roles (the uniforms are ALMOST the same but there are some tiny differences). So Barkk is the receptionist at the Practice Ring (literally you pay to reserve a mini-layer to practice on) while Fluff is the waitress/cashier at the cafeteria at the Tournament Center.

(and back to making shit up lol)

Daizzi is a nurse where Rose goes to the hospital and she has segmental localized vitiligo. Rose is particularly close to Daizzi since she helps Rose make her donations to the hospital.

Sass is the backstage directory, aka, the guy who makes things run. He has an earpiece that has the same diamond pattern as his pants on it! The anime does show one person who helps backstage, but I wanted to have a little fun with Sass's look and tie in to him being "in charge" of the kwamis.

Ziggy works at Socqueline's family art supply shop, which is frequented by Angelic Layer players who are on a bit of a budget. They love talking with the customers about their angels, though mostly the design part.

Stompp is Ivan's foster mother and Roarr his foster sister (Stompp's bio-daughter). I actually didn't think of what kind of job this outfit would be good for, but I think she'd make a good security guard - usually working at rock concerts, which she bonds with Ivan over, but she's also been hired for Angelic Layer tournaments. Sometimes sore losers get a little...violent.

Roarr falls in love with Juleka's Angel Purple Tigress immediately thanks to her pre-existing love of tigers in general. She's even bold enough to proclaim her love to Juleka herself!

Xuppu is Ondine's sibling and a fan of King Monkey, though they'll go out of their way to make fun of Kim himself. Secretly, they're very invested in Kim's career and get very upset on his behalf when he loses.

[kitcatia]

I really love how much consensus there is around these parts about Emma-may as a Character. Every version of her is technically an original character, and all we have to base ourselves on are context clues and one singular drawing of a picture of her in journal three (and we don't even see her eyes in that picture because of how ford/the irl artist shaded it). And yet I see so many people trying their own hand in drawing her and all her versions kind of share the same DNA and vibes.

Most people hc her being from the South too, from the same side of the countryside as Fiddleford, and some even have them being childhood friends. Some have her going to BMU with Fidd but others don't, but they always make her pretty smart regardless. I read a fic where she was a chemist, another where she was a botanist, and saw an artist in bluesky that made her a nurse. Im gonna say, i really cant pick a favorite headcanon, i love them all too much, but i'm incredibly fond of the general notion of emma may being wickedly smart, just like her husband. Specially because i also happen to ship fiddauthor so i like to imagine she'd have some traits in common with ford for obvious reasons (fidds has a type and that type is curly haired and smarter than him). but she's so much more put together than ford LMAO.

Some make her more fem and other make her more masc but she always has curly hair and basically always covers her eyes with bangs just like Tate does (which, sidenote, it's such an inspired design choice that I always love).

Of course, the divergence is more palpable when it comes to writing her into the story and seeing how the characters interact with her, but her general personality is also remarkably consistent? She's practical and honest and doesn't accept being treated badly for too long. She's a lovely and doting mother to tate most of the time as well, even though he chose to leave California and go live in Gravity Falls (we should talk more about this btw)

emma may is just... it's so silly for me to be so attached to such a non-character but we made her into a character! Into a kaleidoscope of characters! She's a footnote in the story of gravity falls that we chose to give importance to. Please let's continue choosing to give importance to her.

(i could also like. add a gigantic footnote about her family's relation to ciphertology but @pixeltwix already wrote about it here and here)

[focusonkayjay]

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

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

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

Word Count: 6.6k+

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

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

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

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

part 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<- part 1

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

[littlxpxtal]

A World Alone

TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader

WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence

WORD COUNT: 1.4K

All the double-edged people into schemes

They make a mess, then go home and get clean

You're my best friend, and we're dancing in a world alone

World alone, we're all alone

I know we're not everlasting

We're a train wreck waiting to happen

One day the blood won't flow so gladly

One day we'll all get still

December Continued

The aroma of the house smells like a warm cookie. Mom had put out the desserts and I was finally able to excuse myself form the dinner table, down to my room to experience the first moment of silence since 8am this morning. After lighting a candle and changing into my pajamas, I settled into bed, turning on the TV and continuing the episode of The Vampire Diaries I had fallen asleep to last night.

A few moments later my phone started buzzing.

Income FaceTime Call: Rafe Cameron

“Hello?” I ask in a hushed voice as if anyone would know I just answered a phone call from Rafe.

“Alright what the fuck” he starts, his face contorted with anger, a hoodie pulled over his head, airpods in.

“Excuse me?” I ask, sitting up in my bed.

“Just watched the second to last episode of this first fucking season and ‘m pissed.”

I think back to what happens in season 1 in Game of Thrones and begin to laugh.

“Oh yea I should’ve warned you. The ninth episode of every season is like known for being chaotic.” I respond, trying to hold in my giggles at the thought of Rafe being frustrated over the loss of an extremely prevalent character for his first and not last heartbreak of this show.

“Yea a warning would’ve been nice I dont even wanna finish this shit now.” he huffs into the phone.

“What time is it there?” I ask, trying to change the subject and cheer him up.

“It’s like 3:30. What about you?”

“9:30. Im practically ready for bed.” I say with a yawn, laying back down and propping my phone up on my pillow. “How’s your Holiday been?”

“It’s fine. We did the whole forced family bonding earlier. We were out all morning so I’ve just been laying around until it’s time to get ready for dinner.”

“That sounds like fun.” I say, my droopy eyelids fluttered closed for a second.

“What about you sleepy?” he asks. I pop my eyes back open.

“Opened presents bright and early, had breakfast brunch with everyone. We played board games and prepped dinner, had dinner and then sat around and talked.” I went on, recounting my day as Rafe stared at me intently through the phone.

“That actually sounds nice. If it was with people I could stand to be around.” I laugh and rub my eyes.

“Yea, they’re fine. It’s always nice to see them but sometimes I wish I could just go far away.” I murmur.

“Like Bora Bora far?” Rafe says with a grin.

“Yes, Bora Bora far.”

“You should’ve came with us.”

I shake my head and roll my eyes at him.

“‘M serious. You used to come on trips with us all the time.”

I recount the trips I used to take with the Cameron’s when we were kids. For a while there I was practically their fourth kid. We visited Florida numerous times, went up the coast to New York, Boston and Maine. One year we had even convinced our parents to send us all to the same surf camp in California. Lucy and Wheezie were too young to go, but they packed me, Kinsey, Sarah and Rafe on a plane for two weeks.

“You thinking about that one surf camp?” Rafe asks, interrupting my thoughts.

“Yea how’d you know?”

“Cus that was all you and Sarah could talk about for months, how could I forget.” he says with a smile.

“I had my first kiss on the trip.” I gleam into the camera with a full smile.

“Yeah and you wouldn’t shut up about it.” Rafe chuckles.

“Who’re you talking to?” Sarah’s voice comes through the phone, slightly muffled, but it’s so recognizable I wouldn’t miss it.

“Y/N” Rafe says, turning the phone to face Sarah and she leans down and smiles, waving at me.

“Girl why the fuck are you on FaceTime with Rafe.”

“He called me to bitch about Game of Thrones.”

“Oh my god you got him into that shit too?” she asks with a smirk, looking at Rafe and then back at me through the phone screen. “You two are something else.” she says walking away.

“Alright ‘m gonna let you go.” Rafe says, fumbling with something on the couch, probably looking for the remote to watch the season finale.

“Okay, bye Rafe.”

“Bye Y/N Sweet dreams.” he says with a wink. The call ends, and almost immediately my phone starts ringing again.

Incoming FaceTime call: Sarah Cameron

I hesitate for a second, but accept the call. Shes now in a bathroom, away from Rafe.

“So what’s going on between you two.” I’m thrown off by her bluntness as she combs her hair, the phone propped up on the bathroom counter.

“What do you mean?” I ask, unsure of how this conversation was going to go. She starts to part her hair and smiles into the camera.

“You know exactly what I mean.” she was right. I did. I didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone, while she was miles away. I was hoping to have it when they got back form their trip. I sigh and turn over in my bed.

“There’s not much going on. We’ve just been seeing each other a lot more recently.” I say nonchalantly. Not completely lying, but keeping the whole truth in.

“You guys totally fucked.” she says, laughing into the camera, working her hands to complete a dutch braid on the left part of her hair. I gulp and shake my head.

“What?” I ask, dumbfounded.

“You and Rafe were bound to happen.” she says smugly. I furrow my eyebrows.

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s always had a thing for you. It didn’t ever seem like you reciprocated but he’s been after you since I can remember.”

“Sarah what are you talking about?” I ask again, feeling a weird knot in my stomach. Rafe and I’s relationship was purely sexual at this point. We weren’t “together”. What does she mean hes been after me?

“Remember when we used to go to Carowinds, and Rafe always sat by you on the rides, while me and Wheezie sat together?” She says, finishing up the braid and starting up on the other half of her hair.

“I thought that was because Wheezie wanted to sit by you on the big rides.”

“No it’s because Rafe would force us to let him sit with you.” I think back to all the rides we rode the last few times we would take trips to Charlotte and visit the amusement park. Now that the memory resurfaces, I recount all the times Rafe has made his way to the seat right next to me. Every. Single. Time.

“Its not like that.” I finally say.

“I’m sure its not, Rafe’s not one for commitment. But I knew something was up when I saw your name popping up on his phone more than mine.” she says with a straight face.

“Sarah I’m sorry. I really didn’t know how to tell you. I wasn’t even really sure what was happening myself. He’s kind of confusing and I don’t know what he wants. I don’t know what I want. We’re just messing around.” I mumble the last part, embarrassed to see her reaction. She finishes up her last braid and picks the phone up.

“I’m not mad.” she says. “I just want you to be careful. Rafe can do whatever he wants but when it comes to you, “ she pauses for a second. I hold my breath, waiting for her to continue.

“Look you’ve got a lot of people on your side. A lot of people that don’t want to see you get hurt. Just remember that.” I know she’s referencing JJ, John B, Pope and Kiara. I smile faintly at the screen at the thought of my friends having my back, even when I feel like I can no longer return the favor.

“I love you Sarah.” I respond. She smiles sweetly into the phone.

“I love you too. Now help me pick out my dress for dinner.”

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[opiopal]

imagine just a regular human OM au,

as in like, no angels, no demons, no magic, none of that whatsoever, everyone is just their character trope but in a regular kinda sitcomy romance

RAD is just a fancy private school, Dia is like, the rich principals son who’s also like class president, and Luci is vice, snd luci made all his brothers join student council because he wanted them all to have at least one activity that would look good on a resume for them, mams is still known for being scummy, Levi is rarely seen at school cause he’s a shut in nerd, Asmo is super popular, ect. Ect. Literally it’s just them but… human. and mc showing up is just like, they qualified for this program and didn’t really know it(bc public schools suck at communication dog), and so they are suddenly told they’re gonna be flown halfway across the world for this, and the rest is history.

now, you guys are probably thinking, “Opi, you basically just said imagine OM but without the thing that makes it OM” and to that I say,

Yah lol,

BUT LISTEN!

it has potential to be cute, like, instead of big cool pact marks, it’s just the brothers who like mc doodling on their arms in pen when they’re bored, like they all do it and don’t really know why, but mc lets them so they do it. or like, mc is just given an item to signify that they gained that brothers friendship, like a bracelet, painted nails, a keychain, hairclip, a book, literally anything at all.

So maybe mc and mams becoming friends would have to be more of a hostage situation rather then an exchange??? Like, instead of “if I give you your credit card you gotta make a pact with me,” it’s “if you don’t give your brother his toy back I’ll cut your card,” and somehow it turned into mams hanging around mc more often, maybe he liked them being mean or something lol, we know how he is.

also, maybe this would make the brothers whole situation sadder?? Since it would practically be a highschool au, they’d all have to be like 16-19, so would this mean they got kicked out of their home after the death of their sister? Maybe their father, while in grief, decided to blame the seven of them for encouraging her? Maybe she got attacked/mugged, or got into a car crash with her bf? Obviously this work leave zero room for mc and her being related in a sense(maybe they had been friends in the past?) so the brothers beginning to like mc more would have to happen more organically instead of being pushed further along with the Lilith plot point.

Thought moving onto the other characters, Solomon is probably just a weirdo that’s into scifi stuff, and believes in a bunch of stuff(maybe ghosts are still real or something? So he gives mc things to ward off evil spirits as gifts) he’s probably still a student as well, but has back problems or something so everyone calls him old. Thirteen prolly just skips class whenever she feels like it(which is prolly always) so she’s rarely seen/isn’t seen until later into the series, but whenever she’s around she’s like, that one super cool side character that you want to hang out with but luci doesn’t allow it because he worries that she smokes behind the school or something wild like that. Mephisto I feel like would be that one kid you rarely see because he’s in all the honors and honors college classes, so unless you also get into one there’s a rare chance of seeing him around the school, though when you bump into him, he’s so weirdly passive aggressive, like sorry for breathing wrong I guess???? (He would totally get into a fight for someone stepping on his designer shoes) I could also imagine him pulling the whole “my father will hear of this!!” Crap. Though eventually he’d warm up and be pretty nice! Though wouldn’t wanna show it often in public, but he just might, only for mc of course. Raphael simeon and Luke are most likely those close family friends that you legit forget aren’t actually family because they’re so insanely close, and I can imagine they’re basically the same, though maybe luke isn’t a little speciest. Luke is most likely either just like, a 6th grader that is around sometimes, or is in a higher grade cause he was moved up. Simeon is on ao3, and TOL is totally an on going story he wrote in like the 5th grade and just kept it going because he realized people really really liked it. Levi is probably just one of those WEEEIRRDOOS who got the fics printed out into book format to keep physical copies of lol, rapheal.. I don’t know him very well, though I feel as if he’d be one of those like, eerily quiet kids, not like “the quiet kid” just.. he’s quiet, but you chat with him and he’s a bit of a nerd, not a raging one, but a chill one, and he likes his hedgehog, I could see him carrying a photo of his hedgehog around to show people.

now here’s the gag guys..

barbatos is the exact same, like there is nothing with him that seems different at all, he’s odd, he shows up randomly, he’s very attentive, and has his strong hate/fear of rodents. no one knows if he actually has any classes of his own because he just follows dia around all day long,

but yea, also no I’m not running out of ideas gang lol, this is just one of my many many OM AU’s I think about often, and I guess I’m just in a domestic mood today lol

[superbat-lmao]

In a family full of detectives, the Bats must have each come across situations that absolutely stumped them. Especially given the fact a lot of them have dealt with alien threats, magic, and meta humans.

So I like to imagine that all of them would hate those dinner party murder mystery games. Because they’re too easy. But they hate them in the way they hate new Lexcorp tech, they know exactly what could be fixed to make it actually functional. Or in this case, actually a mystery.

The struggle comes from deciding who is the one writing the mystery and who’s the one solving it. Because all of them are detectives in their own right and would get a kick out of this kind of enrichment.

Because Bruce would get a kick out a group birthday present from his kids where everyone is at the manor playing a character that severely contrasts their own personalities but is still meant to be frustrating for him. And the Batkids had trouble deciding at first who to make the murderer, trying to determine which kid Bruce would be most uncomfortable accusing of murder, even as a game.

Tim’s murder mystery would involve a lot of orchestration from Babs. He asked for the hardest mystery they could think of, so Babs has fabricated digital footprints, the Batkids stealth their way across the globe and he has to play a life sized game of Carmen Sandiego trying to track down his leads.

By the time it’s Dick’s then to solve a murder mystery, the Titans have found out about the games and get roped into playing. He’s also the only one who solves an actual murder alongside the fake case, making a realization about one of the cold case files he’s been working on in his off time.

For Cass’s murder mystery, none of the players are given information to conceal. They wrote narratives for each character to have committed the murder and then had a blind selection of the story line so that none of the players would know if their character did it. It’s like Clue, Cass has to check her deductions against a sealed card containing the answers. It was the only way they could think of stumping her with their body language.

Jason’s has Alfred’s involvement written all over it. Yes, the detective work is an amalgamation of the Batfamily’s efforts, but Alfred makes sure that certain character relationships and motivations parallel pieces from classic literature. It’s a trip down memory lane and all of the books that Jason read during his childhood at the manor and Alfred does his best to make him sentimental about it as part of the misdirection that Alfred’s character is the murderer. It almost works.

Steph’s murder mystery involves magic and aliens. She has a lot of practice solving day-to-day crimes so the family puts together the most absurd and abstract space and magic related case they can. It’ll flex some of her muscles when coming up against irregularity but it was also crafted to make her laugh. After all, who would have imagined there’s a species of alien out there allergic to waffles? It’s monotonous to face that same threats of muggings, trafficking, smuggling, murder, and other frequent Gotham crimes. Sometimes, you have to mix it up and remember reality can be absurd as well as commonplace.

Duke’s murder mystery is part of his “onboarding” into the batfamily. It relies on key observations from game-changing cases that the Bats have worked over the years that Duke wasn’t around for. He takes point during the day and helps out with larger cases, but it’s his first real test of handling the detective work of a multi-rogue level case by himself. And he’s good, breezes through things that had tripped up Dick or Tim during their Robin years but still finds ways to work through the parts that have him stumped.

Damian’s murder mystery is similar to Tim’s in that it is transnational and involves several famous and unknown art museums. It requires a lot of very specific information to uncover forgeries, complicated motivations, different layers of interrelatedness. It challenges him to think from specific details to connecting big picture movements and motivations of individuals and groups. Art was chosen as a through-point so that he would have an excuse to view galleries he had mentioned previously while still posing a challenge. It was a shock to more than just Damian when everyone realized Talia had agreed to play the red-herring.

Barbara’s murder mystery mixes several generations of technology. There are several layers of converting analog tech and different types of digital tech that tests her knowledge of the limitations of pieces of technology over the ages. It also brings her back into the field for recon in some creative ways since each of the Bats is a character and not able to do investigative work on her behalf. She solves her case the fastest of any of the Bats not because it was an inadequate challenge, but because she delegated her tasks as Oracle to Bruce and Tim and was able to devote 100% of her capabilities to solving this one case as opposed to her insane level of multitasking she’s usually operating at.

Alfred’s is also contained within the manor and treated similarly to an actual murder mystery. Everyone gets a kick out of him playing the part of the detective but slowly they begin to realize that some of the ways he conducts questioning witnesses or makes deductions is just slightly off from how Bruce does things. At first they seem to think Alfred’s putting his own spin on Bruce’s procedures but they begin to figure out that he’s following MI6’s standard operating procedures. They also realize that a lot of the Bats operating procedures are derivatives of different MI6 protocols. Clearly they’ve been updated or altered, but it’s all foundational, as though Alfred is writing the rule book before their eyes. It’s immediately obvious where the World’s Greatest Detective gets it from.

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 12

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

�� 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending, but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind, and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

NOAH

"Enough! I’m not playing with you!" I snapped through gritted teeth, looking around nervously, fearing someone else might see us. "We’re going inside now, and you’re going to put some clothes on before I have to force you!"

"For someone who’s been treating me like I don’t exist, you seem awfully concerned," she said, dragging out every word with exaggerated slowness, dripping with sarcasm.

I didn’t know my body could overheat like a volcano about to erupt until this cursed woman crossed my path. It was evident from the triumphant look on her face that making my life a living hell with her presence was her greatest mission on Earth. I had no doubt that was what tied her to the band.

Being here every day, driving me a little more insane for her amusement.

Every time a car passed and honked as the driver caught sight of her body, clad in nothing but a white lace bra and matching panties, I wanted to claw my eyes out. It was hard enough to focus on her mocking face when all I wanted was to savor the view that hadn’t been mine for a long time.

Everything was still perfectly in place, and damn it, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this close to her exposed body. Her curves looked like they’d been painted with the finest brush, and at this distance, I could practically feel the texture of her skin and even catch her scent. I wasn’t the best at remembering things most of the time, but I never forgot anything about her.

"Let’s. Go. Inside. Now!" I said slowly, feeling another wave of fury boiling inside me as another car passed, honking and catching her attention.

"Don’t you dare come any closer!" she warned, pointing a finger at me, stepping back as she realized I was closing the distance between us. "Stay right there! Don’t move!"

"Or?" I tilted my head, matching her defiant tone. "That’s what I thought."

It only took one step to invade her space and lift her off the ground as if she weighed nothing, slinging her over my shoulder. Her screams and hysteria as we headed back to the studio didn’t faze me in the slightest, nor did her fists pounding against my back in an effort to free herself.

"PUT ME DOWN!" she yelled, kicking her legs and hitting my back harder. "PUT ME DOWN NOW, YOU IDIOT!"

Inside the studio, I tossed her onto the couch and pinned her down, immobilizing any movement by holding her wrists above her head. Her chest heaved erratically until our breaths became one, her darkened eyes locked on mine.

"Damn the day you crossed my path, you cursed girl!" I growled, tightening my grip on her wrists, my stomach churning inexplicably every time she curved her lips in amusement. "Have you lost your mind, pest?"

"You were so eager to touch me again that you broke your own stupid rule, didn’t you?" she taunted, biting a corner of her lower lip and holding it between her teeth, eliciting a faint gasp from me. I hated when she did that. "Look at you, still the same scared little boy whenever something crosses the limits of your control."

She lifted her head slightly, and our faces blurred into one another. Instantly, my skin felt like it was sparking as if struck by invisible embers.

"You still reek of fear, Noah," she whispered, her voice maddeningly soft. God help me, it was the closest I’d ever been to losing my mind. "And I love it."

"How is it that your entire life revolves around making mine a living hell and enjoying every second of it!"

"I won," she declared softly, almost sweetly, her jet-black eyes gleaming like polished tourmalines. "I beat you."

There was no denying the curse in her gaze. Not once had her eyes crossed paths with mine without dragging me into an abyss where I fell endlessly, with no place to land. Trapped in a trance. That was her power over me.

"There are curses that can’t be broken, Noah..." she whispered, her lips brushing faintly against the skin of mine. They were dry from the sudden lack of air and the suffocating heat that had overtaken the studio in mere seconds. "No matter how much you try to avoid us during the year, every pathetic day of your life, or who wins tonight. In the end, you’ll always be mine."

Her small nose grazed mine, and my eyes closed as her long, curled lashes brushed against my eyelid. Every touch seemed to amplify in intensity, as if reality had slowed to six times its normal speed, forcing my body to absorb every moment with care.

My free hand traced the side of her body, and with each advance of my fingers, counting her ribs, she gasped and reacted with her skin prickling from the sensitivity. I lifted her by placing my hand on her spine, and when I finally released her wrists, she launched herself at me, pressing our lips together in a furious kiss.

She clung to my neck as if afraid I might escape at any moment—an impossible detail when I was holding the world in my arms. The entangling of our tongues fueled the compression of our bodies. Slowly, I pushed her legs apart to wrap them firmly around my waist.

“I never disagreed with this part,” I murmured, tugging at her lower lip slowly. Pulling away swiftly, I tilted her head back, my fingers digging into her hairline, and watched as her heavy breaths colored her flushed face. I couldn’t resist when her smile broke through a soft moan under the pressure I applied to her body.

Our laughter synchronized with our desperate breaths as we resumed the rhythm of our kiss. Living a scene where we’d almost killed each other moments ago seemed to ignite an even fiercer spark, fueling the silent dance of our bodies. I buried myself in her lips with such urgency, as if I might lose her again. Her lips sucked on mine as we switched sides, and I held her face firmly, pressing my thumb into her skin.

It was more than good.

Tasting something that belongs to you has a different flavor. Tracing a body you know so intimately, like running fingers over the keys of a piano; feeling at home in a familiar place; recognizing the rhythm of a breath as if it were a musical note; desiring to merge with one person's lips for the rest of your life.

It was more than good.

But it couldn’t be mine.

With one last turn, I released her lips slowly. She seemed confused at first but softened as I rested my forehead against hers. Her fingers gently traced my face, making my skin tingle as if it might peel from the bones at any moment.

“I know what you're trying to do…” I said quietly, as though an invisible rope tightened around my throat.

“No, no, no, no, my love…” she repeated, holding my face as I tried to pull away. “Don’t do this, please.”

“We can kiss now, drown ourselves in this feeling that everything still belongs to us. That we still exist. I could tell you I’ve been waiting for this, and you could drown me in your lies and more promises you won’t keep,” I declared, even more agonized. “But our problems won’t disappear when we walk through that door, and they’ll come back, forming that same chasm that tears us apart, the one we know too well. Do you know why? Because I don’t want to hear you anymore, no matter what you have to say.”

“No, don’t say that.”

“Because you haven’t changed a single thing, and the proof is what you’re trying to do now, pulling me back into the same cycle again.” With the finality of my words, I stepped away from her gradually and stood up. On a chair, I noticed a shirt I assumed was Ruffilo’s and threw it at her, still staring at the ceiling in a trance. “Why are you doing this?”

I felt like closing my own throat with my fists, such was the pain constricting it and cutting off my air. I needed to breathe in short intervals, releasing it slowly through my mouth. I watched her get up and dress while still sitting, her arms hanging limp, her disheveled hair revealing the knot she tried to swallow.

Like me.

“It’s getting harder every day to just pretend I don’t care about this when everything I see, every path I try to take, every place I’m in—everything I am—has you,” she said without even looking at me. “I’ve never felt so alone in my entire life, and that’s saying something, considering I’m used to my own company. But that was before I hated everything I see in the mirror. Because she’s the real culprit.”

“I could say I miss you—I miss you in the morning, I miss you at night, I miss you in the shower, I miss you in bed, I miss you when I eat, I miss you when I’m on stage, I miss you when I write…” I paused for a few seconds, searching for air in the ceiling. “Because you’re right, it’s like I’ve forgotten how to write anything good. You took everything I had, even my inspiration.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she repeated over and over, shaking her head. “There isn’t a day I don’t feel guilty for killing that version of you and turning you into this.”

I hated myself for being moved by her tears. Were they real, or just the effect of whatever junk she was on? I didn’t care; the crushing sensation was the same, like a hammer shattering a glass chest.

Taking cautious steps, I approached and knelt beside her. Hard shell, sharp tongue, and a messed-up personality, but deep down, she was just a girl afraid to go home, afraid of anything that might trap her again. She was like a damned little bird, insisting on flying with wings patched together with toothpicks after a grave injury.

"If you’re truly consumed by remorse and want to do something for me, then take care of yourself," I said softly, lifting her chin with the tip of my finger. "Keep your mind steady, your body healthy. I wish I could do that for you, because I would never treat you this way."

"I love you."

Shimmering gemstones in the salty sea of her tears—it was the first time I heard her say it with such anguish, as if each word tore through her chest. She surprised me with a tight embrace, collapsing onto my lap, breaking down completely on my shoulders, and shattering my heart with the sound of her sobs.

Unfortunately, I returned the hug just as tightly, drowning in her hair. She wouldn’t see the tears I left there.

I love you too, little storm.

Nor would she hear what I whispered to myself.

Bad Omens was on its way to Mexico.

We couldn’t be more excited about a festival in a country we had yet to visit. Our Mexican fans were awesome and always tagged us in posts, asking us to come. Their day had finally arrived.

Our schedule was so packed during the three days we’d be there that we’d hardly have time to explore the city. Gerard, of course, thought that was nonsense and made it clear that if we wanted to sightsee, that’s what vacations were for.

The guys were asleep in their seats at the back of the plane, and not even my headphones could block out Folio’s snores.

Matt, Jolly, and Ruffilo were with the rest of the crew, glued to their phones, while I… well, I was in my favorite spot by the window, playing a ridiculous fruit-slicing game on my iPad and listening to music.

Nothing could ruin my trip.

“Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me.” She said quickly, weaving through the people in the aisle. Her body came to a halt in front of the aisle seat, and she checked something on her phone before glancing at the seat number.

Well, I spoke too soon.

“Great, this is my seat!” She said without much enthusiasm and, after placing her carry-on in the overhead compartment, sat down next to me.

It was impossible for her to arrive anywhere without drawing attention. She had to be noisy, bump into things, and breathe way too loudly. I kept playing as if nothing was happening and turned up the volume on my headphones.

Of course, after the conversation at the studio, things had gone back to normal. We fought like animals the next day because she insisted we should change the stage setup unnecessarily, and our brief truce resulted in another three days of silence.

I thought it was perfect.

“What are you listening to?” she asked, running her palm along her thigh. From her rushed tone, I guessed she was nervous.

“Music.”

“What song?” she shot back with another question, and I wished for death just to avoid answering.

“How about you grab your headphones, put them on, and stay silent for the rest of the flight while pretending this seat is empty and that Matt forgot me at the airport?” I said, glancing at her, and she didn’t even flinch.

For a few seconds, that actually worked—she stayed quiet.

But, as I said, only for a few seconds. From the corner of my eye, I saw her tapping her fingers on the torn part of her jeans. Her breathing seemed uneven, and even after sitting for a while, her body remained tense. If I knew her well enough, I’d say she was having an anxiety attack.

“Would you mind switching seats with me?” Her fingers curled, and she pressed her palm against the armrest as the plane prepared for takeoff. “I promise to stay really quiet if you let me have the window seat.”

I pretended not to hear and kept slicing fruit on the tablet. Out of the corner of my eye again, I saw her close her eyes as the plane ascended, shrinking into her hoodie with trembling fingers peeking out of the sleeves.

I closed my eyes, sighed deeply, and shifted to stand up. She opened one eye and looked confused as I gestured with my chin for her to take the empty window seat.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t tell me Miss I’m Not Afraid of Anything is still scared of flying.” I let out a chuckle, settling into my new seat.

"Ok, go ahead and call me pathetic," she replied without looking at me, her eyes fixed on the clouds over the airplane wings as she quietly counted her breaths.

"Actually, try focusing your energy on something during the flight, and it’ll go by faster. Try listening to music, reading a book, or—"

"Composing? Singing for the entire plane?" she cut in, raising an eyebrow as she turned to face me. "All terrible options. Honestly, I just get bored when I’m sober."

I rolled my eyes and returned my attention to the tablet, as if pulling an invisible curtain between us. The more I kept my mind occupied, the faster the flight would pass, and the torture of enduring her next to me, constantly talking, would end.

"We get bored when we’re sober," she repeated, but this time with her eyes narrowing at something specific. "But we’re miserable when we’re not."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Her eyes lit up with something sharp, like lightning, and she pulled her phone from her pocket, fingers moving rapidly until she found the notes app.

"I can’t be saved," she murmured under her breath as she typed.

Carefully, I set the iPad aside and lowered the music in my headphones, watching something come to life before my eyes. She was having a burst of creativity and needed to write it down urgently.

"Watching it swirl down the drain," she continued, and my eyes narrowed as I watched her create something. It was fascinating how nothing around her seemed to exist—she was just immersed in her own thoughts.

I jumped when she suddenly shoved the phone into my hand, a sequence of jumbled phrases filling the screen. Each one had meaning but still needed to connect somehow.

So I decided to follow her inspiration’s formula.

"Old friends, the same as enemies. I’m killing myself again…" I said, finishing the sentence on her phone, filling one of the blank spaces.

"Watching it swirl down the drain…" Her expression finally softened as if something clicked into place. "Down the drain."

"With all I was but couldn’t change," I continued, holding her gaze before adding another note. "Down the drain."

"Down the drain," we said together, lifting our heads in surprise and holding each other’s gaze for a few seconds.

We had just created the second song for our album. Together.

Damn it.

We couldn’t be more different. We were a terrible duo playing instruments in completely disjointed orders. She always seemed to row against the current I was swimming, intentionally. And yet, it was surreal how she could take something so complex and make it look simple.

Like writing a song during an anxiety attack on a plane.

It was as if she didn’t need preparation or even a warm-up because she was born with it in her veins. Because she was good.

Really good.

"Thanks," she smiled, her breathing steadying as she leaned back in her seat. "I’m feeling better now."

"You wrote a good song."

"We wrote it," she corrected, nudging my arm with her elbow. "The first time you let yourself just listen to what’s in your head, we made a good song. We’re still a good team."

She looked so beautiful that, for a moment, I almost didn’t hear what she said, too focused on her bare face. The curve of her lips when she smiled was almost painful to look at up close, every time I remembered that just a few days ago, I’d tasted her again.

"Now that you’re feeling better, you can leave me in peace," I cut her off, turning up the music on my phone.

I was almost drifting off to sleep, guitar riffs running through my mind, when something poked my arm.

"Do you mind holding my hand?" My eyes opened, and there she was, looking at me with a pair of glistening gems. It was strange seeing her afraid, something I’d only witnessed a few times before. "Just until we land, please."

Slowly, I turned my palm upward and waited for her to slide her fingers over mine and interlace them. Unlike mine, her hand was soft and warm, and I couldn’t resist the involuntary motion of running my thumb slowly along the side.

Once again, I was doing what she wanted because maybe she was right when she said I was pathetic.

And I couldn’t wait for this plane to land already.

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lma1986 ; @chey-h ; @supersquirrel1996 ; @zozaline ; @just-randomm-stuff

[patrice-bergerons]

I know jfj has a patological need to be loved, but I think francis is the most touch-starved (and emotionally scarred against romantic love) after sophia (who had every right to refuse him imho)

Send me terror/fitzier asks!

You are spot on, I think. Although I would venture further and say that I don't think James wants love as much as approval and validation. He wants to be useful and to be liked, because on practical terms it's how he ensures his place and standing in the world and on a more subconscious level- I can't see him having grown up with a lot (or even a little bit) of love. He knows he is a bastard, that his name was made up for his baptism, that they had to find people to raise him, which means someone told him all that, and given the baggage he carries, how he says he always believed he deserved more and the whole brother im a fake speech, I can't imagine that being told to him with any real level of care. Which then makes you wonder about the people who raised him. My sense with him is that he has perhaps never known real love in his life and thus love is entirely outside his orbit. He wants glory and recognition. He wants to be seen. But love i think was always too out of reach and unknown for him to even bother with or strive for.

Francis, on the other hand, knows love. Somewhere on tumblr there is a devastating gifset of Francis in one panel stroking his thumb over Sophia’s arm and in the other over James’s hand as James lies dying. That man thrives on physical touch. With Sophia too, she says she has seen his dresser, which like, there is no proper circumstance in which a Victorian lady should have been to his bedroom, which tells me perhaps they have gone well above and beyond the parameters of proper courtship. To know and to lose such a thing must be infinitely more painful. And she has refused him twice. There would be something wrong with him if he wasn't scarred. 😔 (on a side note i adore it when fics explore this!!)

I also agree with you re Sophia being well within her rights to refuse him. It is no crime to want to have a husband who is around, who can provide for you and who wants broadly the same things from life as you— and triply so if you are a woman in 1840s England and your wards are against a match. The only thing I do fault her for is that she after refusing him still asked him to go on the expedition to look after sir John. Even there though, it is such a human thing to do and we deserve to have female characters who are allowed to be flawed without being instantly condemned for it.

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

Just watched Wicked part 1 (AWESOME movie, btw, excellent adaptation of the play), so naturally I've been thinking of...

The Bad Batch and their opinions on musicals

Omega: LOVES musicals and was the one to introduce her brothers to them. Sings along with every song and will sometimes dance too, mostly freestyle. Favorite musical: she's finally grown out of her High School Musical phase and is now going through a classics phase, of which her current choice for favorite is Singing in the Rain... but her favorite changes just about every week.

Crosshair: scoffs and rolls his eyes during the entire movie in a (vain) attempt to hide the fact that he knows all the songs and choreography by heart. (His siblings have all seen him practicing in his room when he thinks he's alone, but none of them have called him out on it because they think it's hilarious and they know he'll stop if he finds out they know.) Favorite musical: he doesn't like musicals how many times does he have to say it?? 😠 (We won't mention that he's been humming the entire Wicked soundtrack for days, even before seeing the recent movie adaptation. We also won't mention that he often forgets to roll his eyes when watching Hamilton.)

Wrecker: he likes musicals mostly because he has a blast singing along with Omega. The happy ones make him giddy, the sad ones always make him cry and he's not afraid to show it. Favorite musical: The Lion King (yeah, he cries every time).

Tech: meh, musicals are fine and he won't complain about watching one, but they're pretty much last on his list of preferred movie/theater genres. He cannot fathom why anyone would make a story involving characters spontaneously bursting into a song/dance routine ("of course it's fiction and yes of course I know what suspension of disbelief is, but the background characters are meant to be random strangers and therefore all of them knowing the same song and dance the lead character is supposedly composing on the fly is NOT remotely realistic"), but some of the stories themselves are intriguing enough that he just might put down his datapad while watching it. Selecting the one he most consistently puts his datapad aside for, his favorite musical: Les Miserables.

Echo: while he agrees that musicals are kinda weird, he also just shrugs it off - the Jedi did far weirder things. Favorite musical: his default answer to this question is to name the musical he's seen most recently, which now is Fiddler on the Roof since Gregor is currently obsessed with it (no one can figure out why). Echo genuinely VASTLY prefers Fiddler on the Roof over Phantom of the Opera which was Gregor's previous musical obsession that lasted waaaay too long.

Hunter: musicals make his kid happy, so he's happy. Favorite musical: pretty much whatever Omega likes at any given moment, but he did find himself strangely drawn in by The Sound of Music.

[cloudsbrainpopped]

💚🤍 for captain laserhawk?

Hiii! So. I reread the questions and I think this entire post is about Sarah god bless. I will try to make some points about some other folks but I can’t lie. I do think about her a lot.

💚 - What do people get wrong about your favourite character?

Sarah is not just evil and hot whilst committing crimes against humanity. She is inherently a victim of Eden herself. She was indoctrinated via the propaganda Eden put together through Rayman, who need I remind people, his entire thing was a government ploy aimed at impressionable children (granted, Rayman does actually care for the wellbeing of children but his intent and his actions are not the same thing.) And then there’s the entire military complex and what Eden is capable of, brainwashing for one, memory altering for another. I desperately need a proper breakdown into all of the practices within the government because it cannot just be that. Point is. She looks like she’s been through a bunch of experimentation (ESPECIALLY post Sam’s death. Maybe there’s reason we see much more put into her than anyone else with Eden tech on them. To ensure submission and loyalty. I have my theories but I don’t really have the evidence to back them up as much as possible.) I don’t think she’s just an evil, manipulative and for what it’s worth entirely selfish. I just think what most of who she is or could’ve been has been wholely wiped out of her system. To be fair, she is mostly a system now. And continues a cycle set by systems before her. I feel like she is a weapon slowly losing tap of any and all emotions. And I’m not sure what she’d do if she recognised that. Or if she’d die before that. (This is why I need season 2 soon as. I need it for multiple reasons but if a running theme is character’s recognising their mistakes… uh oh.)

Anyway. My personal speculation aside. She is evil, yes. But not as much as the fandom likes to bring her down to. She does what has to be done to reach her own goals, firmly set in doing that. Who cares about who she takes with her, they’re enemies of state anyway. I feel like Captain Laserhawk as a whole is very clear on who’s unforgivable, whose crimes are reprehensible for the sake of being reprehensible. I don’t get that in Sarah. I see someone desperate for their goals, I see someone stuck in their ways, remorse dead with their family and just… suffering. It’s the methods that bring being evil into it. Although I will not refute the fact that she is fine as fuck. She’s got an undercut, she’s buff, stubborn and has severe father issues. And to be honest I have a thing for most of that when it comes to actual women too so. LMAO… girl I don’t care if you’ve got problems with your father we can share mine.

🤍 - Which character is not as morally bad as people think?

In short. Sarah again but for the reasons listed above. She is not a bitch for the sake of being a bitch. Yeah, she’s a villain and has done absolutely abhorrent shit. But there’s a difference in the fact that she does everything explicitly for her goals. Sometimes I feel like someone would say she kicks stray animals or something because ‘evil’. (She Would Not. She absolutely would not but sometimes it’s just so… flanderised.)

In addition to that. I know this happens in fandom frequently, and fanon will happen but it. Really boils my blood and I’m sure that everyone sitting here has something they’ve seen or the general way a fandom treats a character they like that just. Irritates them but yeah. Also I feel like Dolph deserves an honorary mention for this one. His morals aren’t skewed, they’re for his own goals too but his mental health is naturally in the shitter. I have no idea if that made any sense but I hope what I’ve said has come across alright!

[arcane-ish]

I don't think that "we were interested in those characters (ie [my guess] Caitlyn, Jinx, Warwick, Viktor)" implies "we don't think Vi is interesting".

My suspicion is more that they saw it "Vi got her turn and now we also want to do those other characters".

Take Silco for example. My guess is that they enjoyed writing him, but they felt that his story came to a natural and so they killed him and didn't feature him a ton in season 2. They had gotten what they wanted out of him. Silco fans clearly felt very differently. But in the end, it is their call to make.

Writers will always make decisions about who gets screentime and hero moments and badass lines. Them making Vi the character with the most focus in season 1 in itself is a favoritism choice because from an IP point of view, all these charactres are pre-existing and there is no practical reason to make Vi the point of view character of season 1 when in game is is equal to Caitlyn and to Ekko and to Viktor and to Bliktzcrank and to Camille and to 100 characters that didn't make it into the show.

They chose her because they like her (favoritism) and because they had potential. But they also like other charactres and see potential in other stories.

. If Vi is not interesting for you to explain to us more then why did you make us attached to her?

I find that an approach I can't get behind. The same logic could be used by the Silco fans to argue "you made us love Silco now you HAVE to make season 2 completely about him". What if fans have decided they have attached to Heimerdinger or to I dunno, the SevikaxSalo pairing and now the writers OWE them. (also worth nothing, it seems season 2 was written in 2019? before Arcane ever aired to the general public)

In the end to some extent it is normal that the writers want to make you care about all the characters, but they will make calls about what to focus on.

Don't get me wrong, I DEEPLY dislike many of their decisions. I for example DEEPLY think that doing the whole Viktor glorious evolution stuff and making it the main threat of Act 3 was a strategic mistake.

But at the same time, reading/listening to the interviews I understand that it's a story he really wanted to tell and it's one the artists put tons of creative effort in and some fans are into it and others (like me) aren't.

In the end, they get to have artistic freedom. (and I'm glad that he's at least smart enough to want to step away and have the next stories handled by other people)

they made her a dumbass character who only understands fighting,

That's not the vibe I got from season 2. I see a lot of traces of Vi having good instincts about people (ie following Singed, Remi's people). Act 1 seemed to be about the moral instincts vis a vis Cait.

Amanda Overton did an interview from which I got "We wanted to explore who Vi is if you take everything away from her/we see Vi's fundamental trait as being a protector and we wanted to explore who she is if she no longer has anybody to protect". To which I say ... okay... but it feels like the answer you came up with is something like "a shellshocked self destructive traumatized husk"?

I genuinely don't think that it's that much of a problem that they made Vi so heavily about physical fighting... it's that they did that and THEN made her fighting pretty useless? I wrote a lenthy analysis of the finale battle and I genuinely think that if Vi had gotten to be more heroic and successful, even just in a pure physical sense we would have walked away feeling a lot better about Vi. At least superficial satisfaction for "she's a figther and being a fighter is important and valuable and essential to this world".

Caitlyn and Ekko do heroic moves in the battle because of their smarts and their iron hard determination. Jinx and Jayce do heroic moves by reaching out to the baddie and doing heroic sacrifice. And what does Vi do?

I think it's one thing that let's say Vi fans wanted deep hurt-comfort exploration of Vi's trauma. I would say that was always unlikely to happen (I feel the same way when I see people the bemoan that the show wasn't about Zaun crushing Piltover in the dirt of Mel fans saying they wish the show had been only about schemes and politics and not action fighting). But imo they failed Vi even within the story they gave her.

I genuinely think Vi's story would have "rolled off the tongue" better if she had been down there with Caitlyn fighting back to back against Ambessa instead of Mel. Or if it had been her instead of Ekko smashing Viktor's mask.

Of it the show ended up on Vi finding the evidence that Jinx might still alive and not Caitlyn. (signalling = oh, Vi smart)

Or if the show had ended on episode 8. If it would have felt that the conclusion of her story is "okay, if you strip her of everthing, then Vi will choose life, symbolized by her having sex with Caitlyn". But instead we have:

1.) a whole episode where Vi does barely anything except watch in horror as other people die (after we already had that sort of in the Act 2 finale too)

2.) the looming idea that Jinx might be alive and okay ... so how would Vi feel about that? It leaves her story feeling unfinished in a particularly unsatifying way

(I compare that to Ekko for example, Ekko is strictly speaking in the same situation where if Jinx faked her death he doesn't know and his ending is very mornful and bittersweet-to-bitter. But I think it works better because his theme that arc was the whole "leaping forward while leaving something behind", so I personally walk away with a slighty better feeling for Ekko, like he would understand. But of course he also got "wins". He smashes Viktor's mask. He talks Jinx out of suicide. He is just a supporting character (outside of maybe episode 7), but you can still feel good about his character).

Vi was not devoid of good character moments. Her standing up to Cait at the end of Act 1 was an important moment. Her trusting Jinx and about Vanderwick was an important moment. The problem is that Act 3 doesn't manage to tie to together in a way that is satisfying.

"Dirt under your nails" isn't without merit. I guess it's supposed to signal to us, that no matter what you take away from Vi (original family, Jinx, Vanderwick) she will keep on fighting? But it just feels kind of meh, especially with how ill fitting she was in the big action finale.

I'm afraid the same writers will be writing the next shows.

They won't. For one supposedly the Noxus show has been in the works for a year while Arcane was still being finished. And Christian Linke had talked explicitly about how he wanted to find new people to tell those other stories. That they think of the new shows as representing the regions and him and Alex were the right people for Piltover and Zaun but they need to find somebody else for Noxus for example.

I wouldn't rule out that he might do another show (he has mentioned somewhere that he would like to maybe do more with the more whimsical parts of the IP, but to be honest, other parts of statement sound like they were pretty exhausted [and that was before the criticism over the finale was in] )

My guess is the Noxus thing will have a different creative team with their own priorities. (that said this approach with a multi character focus might by a likely side effect of League and of how League is structured).

For what it's worth, I don't think you and I ware even that much in disagreement about the flaws of season 2. i just don't think that switching Vi to supporting was necessary impossible to pull off. I think there's plenty of ways that could have been done and still have left her with a story that makes the fans feel reasonably good about it.

(for what it's worth, I think Warwick's story was also extremely messy and similarly jumbled as Vi's even thought that was one of the new stories they wanted to tell. Or the Commander Caitlyn story was introduced with so much pomp in Act 1, I wouldn't say it was completely fumbled [it ends with Caitlyn's badass sacrifice of her eye], but I would argue it still wasn't as emotionally resonant as it could have been, this is my read of Jinx's ending btw and why I think it is meant to be uplifting by the writers [mileage may vary])

Vi season 2

Saying this about Vi, considering the fact that fundamentally the very basis of the show is about the relationship between her and Jinx is INSANE. The description for the show literally tells the audience it’s a story about two sisters and because the writers grew uninterested with one of them, they sidelined her.

I’m happy she got her happy ending, and i do believe that her writing remained consistent, my biggest issue with Vi this season was that she did feel sidelined, THAT was very obvious. I love her as a character outside of her relationship with Jinx and Caitlyn, however we didn’t get to see that this season.

Regardless if the ending stayed the same, Jinx and Vi barely interacting in the last act felt off. It’s really disappointing to see that one of the shows main and most important characters get sidelined in favour of others

anyway yeah there’s my rant bc seeing this shit on twitter has been pissing me off

[lylahammar]

It catches me off guard whenever I see someone with a cis man character in baldur’s gate 3 romancing Karlach lmao like she is the exact same genre of character as Gideon Nav, I can’t see her as anything other than a butch lesbian

[bicheetopuff]

tgck and bkdk parallels make so much more sense when you think of it as Katsuki paralleling Uraraka and Izuku paralleling Himiko instead of the other way around…

[celtrist]

Would love for them to bring up languages at some point.

Angel: "shit they're speaking French. Smiles! Translate!"

Alastor: "I'm not sure which is more insulting; assuming I can fluently speak and understand French because I'm Creole, or that you think French and French-Creole are the same thing."

[crisperia]

I CAN DEFINITELY SEE IT AND I LOVE IT SO MUCH!! 😍🧡🖤❤️‍🔥Beauty and the Beast is one of my fave tales ever and I love the tropes so much!!!😭😍🥰 I don't know if Yams gained inspiration from it but these tropes are so widely used in fiction that maybe he used them without thinking jsjdhdhd!

Petra is definitely a smart woman like Belle, I bet she likes reading too and she's undoubtedly a daddy's girl! 🥰🧡 She shares some tropes with Belle, like Cool Big Sis, Nice Girl and Wide-eyed Idealist.

Levi can obviously be a massive beast when he wants to LMAO, but inside he's so kind and emotional and Petra could definitely see that, like Belle saw the same in Adam/the beast 😭🖤

LMAO, poor Oluo doesn't deserve this comparison to Gaston but you can definitely see some similarities with all the marriage talk and Petra and Belle having none of it 😅 I feel so bad for Oluo but I'm sure he understands, he also admires Levi so much after all. Gaston is a piece of shit so the comparisons stop there.

Eld could be a less suave version of Lumiere 😂 with his teasing of Petra about Levi, remember the smartpass when he said to Petra "disappointed you're not with the Captain right now?" (he ships Rivetra hard like Lumiere ships Belle x Adam and you can't convince me otherwise 😁) and also the fact that he has a girlfriend, just like Lumiere! 🥰

And Gunther is definitely more serious and practical like Clogsworth!

I wrote a document collecting the characters tropes from tvtropes.org that Adam and Levi, Belle and Petra and Gaston and Oluo have in common, if anyone is interested (yes, I'm that obsessed 😂).

So yeah, you can definitely see the similarities and I love it so much, you have no idea!! 😍😁🥰🧡🖤❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 Thanks so much for this post, Liby, I'm glad I got the opportunity to talk about this because you expressed it so well!! 🥰❤️

Say .. Which Disney princess reminds you the most of Petra .. For me personally it is and always will be Belle .. There's too many similarities to the point it's uncanny ..

First off let's start with the most obvious one ..

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

That's right you heard me it's LITERALLY RIGHT THERE IN THE TITLE ..

Need I say more your honor ?? NO .. I THINK NOT

Sorry man .. I don't care what form or shape it takes .. This trope always has been and WILL be a personal favorite of mine 😌

Next case ..

Their both DADDY'S GIRLS ..

Oh and both girls managed to get back to their da-

Eh .. Yeah .. Never mind

Last case .. I always felt like Petra and Oluo were a friendlier version of Belle and Gaston .. I mean please tell me I'm not the only one who saw this right ??

Also maybe it's me but Eld's personality reminds me a bit of Lumiere .. While Cogsworth is serious & practical about his job like Gunther ..

Alright I'll stop my ranting spree now .. But seriously do you guys ever think that Yams gained inspiration for Petra from Belle's story ??

[mizzical]