#they defy and go beyond everything we know about

[mischievous-thunder]

Conquering the multiverse together

[just-a-space-duck]

So About That Armor…

I regret to inform myself that I like it.

If you haven't seen it:

I'll give you time to take it in. This is a static, (hopefully) eternal text post, so take your time.

Ok so before I go further, you are allowed to have any and all opinions about the armor. Do not listen to me; I am a stranger on the internet who attaches himself to fictional murder cyborgs and treats them like kitty cats.

So first of all, it's weird. And I like it for that. Even if I found it to be the most infuriating piece of costume design ever, I still wouldn't be able to help but respect it for how strange it is.

When it comes to fanworks, adaptations, new installments in a franchise, or even just different takes on the same trope, I love it when creators take things in an unconventional or even seemingly unrelated direction that upon closer inspection still relates to the base or original concept. To get what I mean, think goth interpretations of Rarity or Cosmopoliturtle's Pokémon redesigns. The TV series armor sits alongside these for me, because this was the thought process of the designer, Tommy Arnold:

First of all, it is so funny that The Company would just brand their armor and by extension their secunits, their combat/security products, like Louis Vuitton bags. Also, the logo of The Company strikes a nice balance between being simple enough to be easily reproducible and recognizable, but complex enough to read as a logo and not just a simple shape or pattern. Plus, The Company logo being mostly just concentric Cs, clever there.

But there's also some worldbuilding and character expression in this design.

The Corporation Rim is just capitalism but more. A company slathering everything and everyone they create and own in mountains of logos, even when it's potentially impractical, showcases just how extensive corporatism is in this setting. Additionally, this design could be something of a status marker. Secunits are high end additions and/or alternatives to other security measures. Much like how logos on purses, tennis shoes, and cars serve to tell observers, "I have the fancy, expensive version of [insert category of thing here] ergo I am a very wealthy/powerful/cool person", a secunit covered in corporate logos communicates the high status and access of the client(s).

Now what was one of the first things we learned about Murderbot in the books? It disabled its governor module, the thing preventing it from defying orders and having any level of freedom, but instead of doing what it could to leave The Company, Murderbot just stayed with it and kept doing its intended function. For over four years. What else do we learn in the first book? That it feels most comfortable in the armor because this prevents humans from seeing its face, from treating it more like a person or human rather than a tool or bot. This makes the armor being composed of the logo of the group that both created and hurt Murderbot very symbolic.

Murderbot has internalized the message that it is a dangerous weapon and not a person deserving of care to the point that, at least at the beginning of the series, it shies away from anything that insists that it deserves the same kindness that humans do. It's only ever been taught what the company built it to do, so it doesn't know what to do next once it's obtained some semblance of freedom for itself by disabling its mental shock collar and so keeps doing what it's always done, even though it very much would rather not be in such a situation. Even by the most recent book, System Collapse, Murderbot is still wrestling with the idea that it matters beyond how it can assist others. Murderbot finding comfort hiding behind the very thing that will not let you forget the company that enslaves it, is just juicy theming.

Also, the helmet looking so weird works well with how many humans don't know what secunits look like, with some not even thinking they have human-like faces. If you had no context for this image, you might very well assume this is a fully robot character or even a statue.

I have my own gripes and worries and hopes concerning the upcoming show, but I just couldn’t get this fun bit of character design analysis out of my head. Shouldn’t have watched so much TB Skyen.

[shitpostingsapphic]

Why I don't feel disappointed by Vi's arc, but you might

I usually have pretty strong and polarizing opinions when it comes to my takes on Arcane, but this is one where I wanna open up the discussion a bit more and invite people to my perspective, and it's fine if you don't see it this way.

I think there are two primary reasons why people feel disappointed by the arc of s2 Vi. The first, being that Vi had stronger voiced concerns about the state of Zaun in the first season. The second, being that she spent the whole show wanting to be with her sister and she didn't end up getting that.

Why I actually feel fulfilled in Vi's arc has to do with these two points, and I invite you to sit with what I have to say next.

Both of these parts of Vi have to do with her fatal flaw: her neglect of self.

We know two things based on what the creators have said about the show: the theme of Arcane is the cycle of violence, and the entire show was written together, instead of season 2 being written after season 1 production. From this, I can then ask: what do the creators want to tell their audience about this message, knowing they wrote it all out together, knowing the events of season 2 were very purposeful, using Vi as a conduit for that message?

If violence is a cycle, can one person defy it? No, of course not. At the start of Vi's arc, she wants to be a person that breaks it, though. She wants to change things in Zaun, wants a better life for her sister. As season 1 continues on, she wants to pick up where she left off with Powder without truly processing the gravity of the years between them. She thinks she can hold the world on her shoulders and fix any problem that comes her way. She thinks she can use her fists to make progress, thinks she can physically reach out and create change, but it only contributes to the cycle. And that's not because she's morally in the wrong when she does so, but she doesn't grasp yet that her fists can't fix everything. Vander tries to tell her as such in act 1, and it's a lesson that goes beyond just the literal application.

Vi's tendency to try and fix everything around her leads to her neglect of self. Inevitably, when you try to change things you have no control over, it leaves wounds. It leaves a person feeling like something is deeply wrong with them. And we watch Vi go down this spiral. I actually find myself really brokenhearted watching Vi in the first 2 acts, because I think she represents a lot of us: we see pain and devastation around us, but we don't know what the right thing to do is. We try different tactics and try to fix things and are left wondering why things feel worse than how they started.

I think that's something a lot of viewers could benefit to reflect on: I think in watching a show with strong political messaging, we yearn for a message that tells us the answers to these big problems. Truthfully, most of us don't have a fucking clue what we're doing. We want change but don't know how to see it through. That includes the writers. This isn't a show about the solution to political strife. It's about the cycle of violence. It's about not knowing how to change something that's been continuous throughout history in some form.

If we put ourselves in Vi's shoes, it would eventually take a toll on us to try and change something that isn't within our ability to change. Vi can't fix the problems in Zaun. Vi can't change the way time and distance and pain has warped her sister into someone else. In season 2 act 1, she's still trying to take responsibility for things that are outside of her control. She blames herself for the way Jinx has changed and has to tell herself that the only way to fix it is to end the cycle with her own fists. She teams up with Caitlyn because she's convinced herself it's the only way she can help. She sees how violence has devastated not only Zaun but innocents in Piltover as well, and she feels responsible for it.

BUT SHE IS NOT AT FAULT. And she cannot fix it any more than she could have created it.

Perhaps people may feel Vi's arc is lacking because they wanted to see more of her involvement in the revolution of Zaun. They wanted to see her be able to change the situation with her sister and for them to live happily together. But because of the circumstances surrounding both, for Vi to do so, she would inevitably lean into her fatal flaw. She cannot do either of those things without neglecting herself. That's not who she is.

The whole point of a character arc is for someone to be a changed person from beginning to end. If Vi starts out as someone passionate about enacting change to the point of self-destruction, what would a resolution for a character like that look like?

Vi needs to choose herself. Vi needs to release herself of the responsibility of changing the world. She can't do it. There are ways to contribute to positive change that don't involve putting the world on your shoulders, and Vi has yet to put herself first in any situation. Vi choosing love is how she does it.

Amanda Overton, one of the main writers that contributed to Vi's character and the Caitlyn and Vi dynamic and relationship, said about Vi: "If she has no one left to protect, she would fall in love". If Vi finally lets go of this crutch of hers to protect, to fight, to take responsibility for things that aren't her burden to bear, she would fall in love. She would finally be able to choose something for herself.

This is why I find her arc fulfilling. I feel like it's not an arc we really see a lot. It's not every day we have a character that starts out like the classic anime slash marvel protagonist, and instead of being the person that saves the world, they accept they're not a superhero and it's okay to choose love and personal happiness.

If it applies, and you're reading this, I want you to ask yourself: are you perhaps disappointed with her arc because you expected her to be the superhero? And would you be okay with accepting that she isn't and doesn't need to be? That it would be better for her to choose herself?

[the-clock-of-the-time-dragon]

Musings on how magic works in the Wicked musical/film(s):

So I've actually never really heard anyone explore in-depth how the powers work in Wicked, because I guess they're both simple AND mysterious enough that most people regard them as self-explanatory. But I think there's actually a lot of interesting things we might learn about the characters and world through observing how and when magic happens in Oz.

So with the Grimmerie, it seems to work by reading people's hearts and granting them an approximation of what they ask for. I've pointed out before how it's kind of a mirror version of what the Wizard does: people come asking for their "heart's desire", and both the Wizard and the Grimmerie want to grant that desire and make people happy. But whereas the Wizard must do this with charlatanry (and in the end, people always end up having to either go and get what they came for themselves, elsewhere, or they already had it all along), the Grimmerie can actually twist reality to give people some version of what they wanted (and didn't already have): but it always comes with some fucked up cost that makes them regret it. It plays into the overarching theme of "what is happiness? Is it getting your heart's desire? What will you give up to get it? Is it worth it?", etc. I think it could even be inferred that every character who ever comes into contact with the book — directly or indirectly — is in a way "cursed" to never obtain true happiness, only a mockery of what they'd imagined happiness to be. This extends to the Wizard, Glinda, Morrible, Elphaba, Nessa, and even Chistery. And the grander the desire, the graver the cost for getting it — Chistery is able to get away with physical pain for his dream of flying, but the human characters all have their dreams come true only in ways they are never able to actually enjoy. I think the reason Elphaba is the only one able to not only read the book but get away with using it repeatedly, is due to her own innate power.

Elphaba's power is very different from that of the Grimmerie. She seems to have the ability to just flat-out REJECT ACCEPTED REALITY. She defies the law of gravity; even TIME (essentially "remembering" things that have yet to happen). Every time we see her use her powers, she does so to STOP what is transpiring, or simply to say NO to what is before her. Making things fall up instead of down, recalling the future instead of the past, reading books that are illegible. It's in keeping with her overall character, being off, or backwards, or at odds with everything around her: crowds part as if repelled when she comes near; her first day of school she's already being told she's going to excel far beyond what any of the other students could ever hope to achieve. The idea of "I clash with everything" isn't just a joke about color coordination, it's quite literally how she interacts with the world, including on a metaphysical level. She distorts and repulses.

The reason she has such a different relationship to the Grimmerie than everyone else who's tried to use it, is precisely because she clashes with everything. More importantly: she rejects both the world as it is, AND the world as she wants it. She denies her own desires for the sake of what she considers more important. She knows that she can have all she ever wanted: but she can't. She won't. She chooses to go AGAINST heart's desire, REJECT happiness — to deny HERSELF. Something that, perhaps, only a child of both Oz and Kansas — of fantasy and reality — is able to do. She's so at odds with the fantasy world she's been born into, so committed to Truth — a world of objective non-fiction — that she actively says no to her own dreams, and can literally disrupt and challenge the basic laws and logics of the story that she's in. She can use the Grimmerie because she uses the same language: negation. You can't reverse the Grimmerie's spells because they ARE reversals — distortions of a twisted nature. But Elphaba can't want what she truly wants in her heart; she rejects it; it's already reversed. To the "what are you willing to give up to get what you want?" question, Elphaba is the only one in Oz who can honestly just reply "NO", and give up her heart's desire of her own accord.

Now, how Morrible's powers work seem to be a lot different from the others. Her abilities aren't derived directly from the Grimmerie (though we know she has at least studied it), and appear to be innate like Elphaba's, but they manifest very differently. But why weather?? I think it pertains to her innate nature. She's a manipulator whose temperament changes like the wind (warm with some and cold with others), capable of clouding the truth or making things clear as she pleases, and acts as if the world revolves around her like a cyclone. She has total control over her powers because her power is control. There might have been a time when her powers were more benign — she says her talent is "encouraging talent", so perhaps we could infer that her true powers are motivating/suggesting things, giving directions, and that whenever she developed into the truly wicked person she is now, that power darkened into coercion/manipulation. So she can direct a cloud to disperse, encourage a wind to blow, or persuade a crowd to become a raging tempest.

As for Glinda: the musical/film(s) kinda implies she doesn't have any powers?? At least not the innate kind that Elphaba and Morrible have. We haven't seen her use any spells (except a simple one that got cut way back in the pre-Broadway tryout run of the musical), her bubble is shown to be mechanical rather than magical, and she's obviously interested in learning sorcery but fails the only time we really see her try to use it, and she doesn't believe she can read the Grimmerie. So whatever magic Glinda possesses has to be developed, and given she has never really been encouraged to do so (whether in school or when she's Glinda the Good), she probably hasn't had much of a chance to become a real witch by the time the story wraps up (although it would be a fun inclusion if the second film shows her using a spell at some point). Also: since magic seems to be related to character's personal qualities or narrative themes, it's actually quite meaningful that Glinda (at the very least) struggles to use it — she's constantly questioning who she is, what she wants, etc., and so whether she possesses a natural power of her own or needs to develop it through training, we might infer that her magic is similarly "unsure" of what it's supposed to do.

Feel free to respond with any thoughts — I just find this aspect of the story really interesting and hopefully this all came together to at least mostly make sense, lol

[shivunin]

Honey and Lavender

In which Lucanis grapples with his feelings for Rook after their near-kiss in his bedroom (AO3 Link)

(Rook Ingellvar/Lucanis | 3,586 Words | No CW, romance progression spoilers)

“Who has seen the wind? Neither I nor you: But when the leaves hang trembling, The wind is passing through.” —Christina Rossetti, “Who Has Seen the Wind?”

No matter what he’d told Rook, stepping out of the dining room did not help Lucanis clear his head. No matter where he stood, it would always be too loud, too cramped. 

“Go back,” Spite snapped. 

Lucanis wrapped his hands around the wood railing and squeezed, trying to shake the sensation of Rook’s breath on his cheek. She had been so very close—close enough to breathe her in, to feel the brush of her clothing against his. Close enough to touch, though he had not done so.

“No,” he said. 

Spite loomed in his peripheral vision, his face pinched. 

“No,” Lucanis repeated, his grip tightening until the uneven wood pressed hard into his palms. “We have to stay focused. Getting attached without—no. No, it is a poor idea.”

“Liar,” Spite spat. “Make up your own reasons later. I want to touch her. Go inside.”

The demon’s grip tightened, like a fist around the base of his neck. Lucanis gritted his teeth and pushed back. Waking from sleep to find himself already standing, the taste of strange words on his tongue, had become all too familiar. 

Rook’s presence when he woke was also not unfamiliar. He wished he knew how to feel about that. 

That was, in the end, the problem: he didn’t know how to feel. He didn’t know which of them wanted Rook, or for what. When he thought of setting his hand on her shoulder, was that his or Spite’s? When he imagined how her bare hands would feel on his face, was that something Spite wanted, for reasons beyond Lucanis’s understanding? Or worse, was it the remnants of infiltration training he’d rarely cared to use?

How could he hope to understand when Spite would not stop saying that?

“I said no,” Lucanis told him. “She isn’t for touching. She is—”

A what? A client? A friend? An associate, he had called her when Teia had flirted with her, and realized too late that she’d only done it to prod him. Rook was none of those things; she defied easy categorization. Rook was a threat when threatened, a friend when friendship was offered, a leader when leadership was called for, his voice of reason when it seemed easiest to believe the worst of himself…

Rook was important. He would never pretend otherwise. It didn’t make any of this less of a distraction. 

“She wanted to touch. You wanted to. I felt it,” Spite said, and Lucanis felt the demon’s grip tighten at the base of his neck. He gritted his teeth against the pressure and tightened his grip on the railing. 

“It does not matter what I want,” he said, and with some force pushed the demon further away from his mind again. 

Alone for a moment, Lucanis pressed his knuckles to the trickle of blood that already dripped from his nose. 

She is not for touching, he’d told Spite. 

He wished he knew if he believed it. 

|

Lucanis would have been lying if he’d said he wasn’t watching Rook more closely in the aftermath of the near-kiss, but such a lie would have been pointless. Spite saw everything he did and nobody else seemed willing to ask about it. Who would he have lied to? 

At first, he might have thought there was no change in her behavior. She still followed her general routine, sparring and cooking and seeking ways to fight the gods. She still took him with her when she and Neve hunted Venatori in Minrathous and still joked with him when they were around the others. When he walked unsleeping in the rotunda, he could still hear the haunting strains of her violin from the meditation room. 

There should not be any difference, yet he would have sworn that something was amiss. Rook was more prone than usual to drifting silence, gaze fastened somewhere in the distance, a frown furrowing her brow. It wasn’t until several days later that he overheard her speaking to Neve and put the pieces together. 

“Hey, there. Something bothering you?” Neve asked. The door to the dining room creaked shut. “You haven’t seemed like yourself these past few days.”

There was a long silence, which Lucanis disregarded. Whoever she spoke to, it was not his current concern. He needed to prepare for—

“Do you think people are capable of changing?” Rook asked.

Lucanis, who’d been in the middle of a long series of stretches, paused and listened. 

“Rook!” Spite said. 

Lucanis resisted the urge to tell him to be quieter; nobody would hear the demon but him. 

“What sort of change do you mean?” 

Soft sounds, liquid pouring (“Eugh—smells like burned coffee,” Spite muttered, and Lucanis could not blame him), and a quiet sigh. Lucanis slipped silently to the door and stood very still just before the threshold.

“Because,” Neve went on, “I have a hard time believing some people can change. You know, lifetime of power and murder makes it a little hard to start thinking that other people matter, for example. But if you’re talking about, say, learning to like a new food? I’d say yes.”

Rook laughed slightly. Something scraped—a chair pulling away from the table. When she spoke again, her voice was much quieter. Lucanis had to strain to hear her. 

“I mean—do you think we’re doomed to make the same mistakes over and over again forever?” 

A pause. Footsteps—Neve’s. 

“I’ve got a lot of experience in being where I’m not wanted,” Rook went on. “I mean, it’s sort of what has to be done when it comes to our current situation. But even before that, I was used to people—I mean people I cared about—I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m asking, I suppose.”

“No, go on,” Neve said, and a second chair scraped over stone. 

“You’re a detective,” Rook began, and paused. 

“I am, yes.”

“How do you know when you’re putting clues together and when you’re reading into something that isn’t there.” 

Spite hissed.

“Ah,” the syllable carried a heavy weight. 

Lucanis braced his hand against the wall and bent forward, anchoring himself to the sensation of solid stone against his fingertips. Something that isn’t there. She could mean anything. He wasn’t willing to try to fool himself into thinking she meant anything other than whatever was happening between the two of them. 

“I lay out the facts,” Neve said at last. “Clear as I can. What was actually done, what was actually said, what I know about the situation as a whole. I write it all down together, get everything I know in one place.”

Someone sipped from their cup. The hearth on the other side of his wall crackled faintly—almost time to add a log. He did not think he would do so while they were still talking. 

“Right,” Rook said at last. “Right. That makes sense.”

“I try to stay out of my head about it,” Neve went on, voice lowered. “Easy way to get distracted from the facts. That’s when you get into trouble.”

“Out of my head,” Rook repeated. “It sounds good in theory, but I’m not sure how I would achieve something like that.”

Neve laughed. 

“Sounds about right,” she said. A chair scraped across the floor again. “But if you want my opinion? Just between the two of us?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not imagining it.” 

Soft footsteps—Neve’s—and the creak of the door. Slowly, it creaked closed again. In the other room, Rook sighed and pushed her chair away from the table. Her footsteps were quiet—barefoot again, even after she’d scraped her foot on the wooden steps to Davrin’s room last week. They hardly grew louder when she approached his room. 

Lucanis, still leaning against the wall, curled his hand into a loose fist and tried to decide if it was worth pretending he’d been doing something else. Maybe he would resolve this instead, make it clear he’d heard her. That he thought…

What did he think? 

That he’d only really slept once since they’d almost kissed and he’d dreamt of pressing her back against this wall and tasting her? That he had been wondering what her hair might feel like caught between his fingers? That Spite talked over everyone but her, that his fascination with her had probably been sparked by Lucanis’s? That he was no longer entirely convinced that he felt like this only because of Spite?

That it had only occurred to him to want to do this once before and it had been a disaster?

His door creaked slightly, as if Rook’s hand rested upon it. This close, he could hear the soft intake of her breath. She was only a few inches away—less than a foot. He could open the door himself. He could tell her…

The door rattled slightly as the pressure on it released, followed by a soft sigh and footsteps moving away. 

“She’s walking away,” Spite snapped, surging for the door. 

Lucanis reached for the handle before he caught himself, violet sparks burning in the corners of his eyes. He shook his head and stepped back slowly, deliberately. His hand stretched forward against his will, grasping for something it could not reach.

“Let me talk to Rook,” Spite went on, as he so often did. “Open the door.”

Rigidly, Lucanis walked back to his cot and sat, wrapping one hand tightly around the other. In the next room, the door swung open and closed again. 

“She’s leaving. Now!” Spite said, seizing his hands. 

The demon warred with him for control. Lucanis pushed him away, but the effort took several minutes and left him exhausted. Temporarily alone, he pressed a hand to his face and took several long, slow breaths. 

If he could touch her without touching her—if there were some way to make his feelings clear while holding her at a safe distance…

Unbidden, he remembered the way she’d smiled at him that first time in the cafe. Surprised, cheeks slightly flushed; he had not had her measure then. He was not entirely sure he had it now, for she spoke so little about herself. But she had smiled at him and said—

That was it. 

Lucanis stood, remembering precisely which set of stretches he’d left off on before the conversation in the other room. He had a plan now. Now, he had only to wait for the right time to set it in motion. 

|

“Do you think Harding believed you?” Lucanis asked from the other side of the fireplace. 

Rook, midway through dumping her pile of vegetables into the stewpot, glanced at him. 

“About the letter from her mum? ‘Course she did. There was an actual letter.”

“Oh?” he lifted a brow and angled his head to the side. The firelight traced the lines of his face the way she would’ve liked to, painting dark hollows under his eyes and limning the angle of his nose and cheekbones with gold. He was just so—

Shouldn’t be watching him like this. It’d been days since they’d almost kissed. She’d been strong. Focused. Had kept things aboveboard and friendly, no matter how much she wanted to ask him…

What? What could she say, really? How’s your head feeling these days? Pretty clear? No, that was silly. There was too much else to be worrying about to worry about whatever was between—whatever she’d imagined was between them. 

“You’re not imagining it,” Neve had told her, but it felt awfully dangerous to believe her. The consequences for believing her and being wrong would be far worse than she could handle right now. Worse than all of them could handle, if she was being honest. More than anything, it was her responsibility to make sure that they all held together. There was no room for her to make a mistake that big over her own feelings. 

“Well, I remembered it was Lace’s turn to cook,” she told him, focusing on the cutting board with far more attention than was warranted, “and Davrin may have mentioned something about an alarming amount of cheese earlier…”

“It was for a cheese soup, I believe,” Lucanis agreed, and his hands moved in her periphery. Taking another sip of coffee, presumably. She suspected it was a proportionately significant component of his blood content at this point. She wasn’t going to watch the way his lips moved when he pressed them to the rim of the cup. 

“You can’t be serious,” she said, though she knew he was. Lace had been most of the way through grating a block of cheese when Rook had walked in. 

“You don’t think her capable of it?” 

Rook laughed at that, settled the lid on the pot, and turned away again. There was half a block of grated cheese to do something with now—a troubling thought, since none of the rest of them were Fereldan and thus did not share the scout’s love of cheese. Maybe she’d just set it aside and Bellara would make khachapuri again. 

“Well, in any case,” she went on. “The letter came in a little earlier. I may have waited until she’d started cooking to let her know.”

“Devious.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to say so.”

She tapped her hips, surveying the available ingredients before selecting a likely-looking loaf of bread. Lucanis shifted in her periphery. Despite herself, she looked at him. He’d pressed a hand to his face, forefinger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Spite?” she asked, and he nodded. “He want to say anything in particular or is he just hungry, too?” 

The muscle in his jaw twitched. Slowly, deliberately, he set his mug on the table beside him. 

“It is nothing worth sharing. I will brew more coffee. Would you like some?” 

What could she say? Pity would shame him and sympathy was hardly better. She sometimes wished she had Emmrich’s talent for hearing spirits. Perhaps if she could address both of them at once…but no. Maybe letting him do something for her would help. He seemed comforted by taking care of the people around him in that way.

“If you’re making it.”

“Sweet with cream, yes?” he said. 

The soft sounds of metal and glass to her left told her he’d already begun. Could he see her smiling? Surely not. She’d turned her head enough that she wouldn’t be caught. 

“You remembered.”

“How could I forget?” he said. 

She laughed. He didn’t, but Rook was distracted enough in retrieving the bread knife that she hardly noticed. Water bubbled in the kettle and was poured into Lucanis’s coffeemaker. The fire crackled between them, its sound like a warm blanket over her shoulders. All at once, for no apparent reason, she felt—well, it was strange, but she could almost say she felt a sense of belonging, of rightness, like she was meant to be here at this moment with him. Her hand stilled on the knife, as if moving too much would dispel the sensation.

Had she ever felt like this before? Like she belonged anywhere that wasn’t the Necropolis? Maybe it didn’t matter if he wanted her or not. Maybe it was enough just to be near him, to know that he cared. Maybe it was enough to be in a place where people cared about her and told her so, where she cared enough to cook for them and worry about who would eat what. 

A place where somebody remembered how she liked her coffee. 

“Rook?” Lucanis asked, abruptly beside her. 

“Sorry,” she said, straightening. “Did you say something? I was…lost in thought.”

Whenever he looked at her, she had the odd feeling that he was reading something far deeper than her skin. She often wondered how much he saw, how much he understood without ever asking. 

“Your coffee,” he said at last, and held out one of the delicate coffee cups that’d appeared in the kitchen shortly after his arrival. 

Rook took it, still trying to cling to that feeling of comfort. His hand lingered on the mug, brushing against hers. His skin was warm, unexpectedly so. She wished that she could linger in the heat of it, but perhaps the warmth of the mug could satisfy that want instead. 

“Thank you. You make the best coffee—but I’m sure you know that.” 

“Nobody else here has the experience,” he agreed, and drank from his own cup. 

Lenore blew across the surface of hers and took a sip, wary of the heat. Lucanis seemed less sensitive to it than she was and she’d burned her tongue on his coffee more than once. Caution had made her careful. 

There had been no reason for her caution; this was the perfect cup of coffee. It was slightly cooler than boiling, perfectly sweet (though it was a warm sweetness that could not have come from sugar), and tasted faintly of…what was that? She closed her eyes and drank more deeply, trying to name the flavor. 

Coffee, honey, cream, and…something floral. 

Lavender! That was lavender. Oh. 

Honey and lavender cream, sweet and intriguing, he’d said at Cafe Pietra. Like a first kiss. 

When she opened her eyes again, Lucanis was still watching her, index finger tracing the whorl in the ceramic cup he still held. Two steps away—that was all. Such a small distance. She could have closed it so very easily.

“Honey and lavender cream,” she said. Her breath seemed to have deserted her; the words came out in a whisper, so quiet that someone standing on the other side of the hearth would not have heard them. 

His eyes were—she never stopped thinking about them, but they seemed especially deep, especially fathomless in that moment. She wanted to touch his face, to trace the dark lines of his beard, to cup the angle of his cheekbone. She wanted to watch his eyes change when she kissed him, wanted to know if that self-contained focus of his would dissolve or sharpen in response. 

“I can make you something else if you would prefer,” he said. His voice was as quiet as hers had been, but so gentle it hurt her heart to hear. 

“This is perfect,” she said. She drank again while he watched. The coffee was just as sweet and luscious and strange the second time. She’d never tasted anything like it. 

“Perfect,” she repeated. “The best I’ve ever had, I think. Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure,” he said. 

She wondered if Lucanis would turn away and break the moment, but he did not. He stood very still and watched her instead, his own mug cupped in his hands. 

I lay out the facts, Neve had told her. Get everything I know in one place. 

Maybe they were both working on too little information. Maybe the only way to fix that was to put all the facts in one place. 

“What are you thinking?” she asked impulsively, clutching her own mug in mirror to him. Lucanis angled his head, longer strands of hair slowly drifting over his shoulder. 

“I am thinking,” he said at last, “that it may be a poor substitute for the alternative.”

A slow breath. Her heart raced on anyway, refusing to be calmed. The coffee warmed her cool hands and the taste of lavender and honey still lingered on her tongue. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Lenore told him. “I wasn’t exaggerating when I told you it’s been a very long time, and even then I wasn’t any good at it. If this is something you—something you want…I’m not in any rush.”

A ridiculous thing to say, considering the forces arrayed against them and the tight timeline they were always working under. It didn’t feel ridiculous, though. It felt right, in the way that cooking in the same room as him had felt right. Facing the idea of some sort of romance head-on made her feel faintly ill, as if looking down on the world from some great height. But this? It might be roundabout and oblique, but it felt good anyway. 

Lucanis opened his mouth to answer, but the door to the dining room opened and Bellara rushed in. 

“Is it my turn to make dinner? I can’t remember where my copy of the list went. I think it might have gotten stuck under something again. Hi, Rook!” 

“Bellara,” Rook said. “No, you’re fine. It was Harding’s turn, but I took over for her. If you don’t mind, I’m running a little behind. Could you slice the bread while I finish with these?”

“Sure!” Bellara said, slipping between Rook and Lucanis. The latter set his cup on the table and returned to the hearth. 

“I will keep this from burning,” Lucanis said, lifting the pot lid and looking inside.

It already is, Rook thought, for there was heat from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. She said nothing aloud, but took one more sip from her mug before setting it aside. 

As first kisses went, it was certainly better than her last one, and given with a great deal more care and attention. I don’t think you’re imagining it, Neve had told her. Lenore had to agree. This—whatever it was, whatever it would become—was entirely real. 

“What are you humming, Rook?” Bellara asked a moment later. 

Rook, who hadn’t realized she was humming at all, smiled. 

“I don’t think it has a name yet,” she said, “but I’m working on it.”

[iamnmbr3]

What fascinates me about drarry besides how clearly unintentional it was, is just how clear it is in canon.

Is not even a case of readers reading too much into things or using headcanons, everything is textual and it goes beyond Draco being Harry's foil.

Draco is canonically the first child Harry meets.

Harry is canonically kinder in his inner musings when it comes to Drack than he is about pretty much everyone else

Harry is canonically in tune with Draco, and even though he doesn't have a reason to he seems to be able to read him like an open book and vice versa.

Harry knows what Draco does, what he gets from his parents, how he behaves, when he's hiding or plotting or anything else, really. And yes sure, Harry is great at reading people, but it just seems like he laser focuses on Draco most of the time when it's not really necessary for the narrative.

Like why do we need to know what coat Draco wears? How exactly is that relevant?

And it goes beyond that, it's how he struggles to cope with what he did to Draco, is how he refuses to leave him and just him behind, not paying any mind to anyone else. And we know that Harry has no problems with death, with what, him vaporizing Voldy/Quirrell in the first book or with him being like oh these two (Goyle ans Crabble) are playing stupid games and will win stupid prizes but Draco must be saved!

Is Draco's wand working so well for Harry.

Its giving soulmates

I KNOWWWWW! IT'S INSANE!!! JKR didn't mean to write it that way but she somehow did. Their character are so deeply intertwined with each other. They are essential to each other's characters and arcs. The relationship is so critical to the narrative and so well developed. And all by mistake!!! Just. How?! And yeah. Your point at the end is so correct and such an amazing facet of this ship. They are absolutely each other's exceptions. Draco defies Voldemort for Harry. And Harry risks his mission and the lives of his friends for Draco despite generally being pretty cold towards his enemies. It's not that Harry can't kill or can't let an enemy die. It's the he can't let DRACO die or even be hurt.

Remember this bit from book 5?

Harry was fully ready to curse that Death Eater and is shocked that Hermione has a problem with it and obviously thinks she's being ridiculous but that there isn't time to argue. And remember in book 7 Harry wasn't willing to curse Stan but was perfectly willing to curse the other Death Eaters following them, even though he knew that would likely get them killed. And there's this bit from book 6:

....Clearly Harry is not losing any sleep over having straight up murdered Quirrel. Not to mention the part in book 2 when he makes Lockhart go into the Chamber first so he'll be eaten if the basilisk pops out suddenly. As you correctly noted, Harry is not some giant softie who wouldn't harm a fly. If Draco were any other Death Eater Harry would not be treating him the way he does. Or even any random person Harry disliked (like Crabbe or Goyle or Lockhart). But Draco is different.

[pucksandpower]

IN MY BLOOD

Y/N SENNA x CHARLES LECLERC

Series Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

PART I: Level Up

y/nsenna

Liked by bugattiracing, f1, and 1,372,865 others

y/nsenna Today my heart soars with overwhelming joy and gratitude. It is with immeasurable excitement that I announce signing my first Formula 1 contract with Bugatti Racing.

This moment is not just about me, it is a tribute to the trailblazing women who shattered barriers in motorsport and paved the way for this incredible opportunity. To those fearless heroes who dared to challenge conventions and fought against all odds, I am forever indebted. Your courage has lit a fire within me that will burn fiercely on every lap.

As I enter this next adventure, I carry with me the spirit and legacy of my father. His passion for racing, unwavering determination, and undying love for the sport continue to guide my every move. Today, I make a solemn promise to him: I will give my all, every single race, and honor the Senna name with everything I have.

Papai, I wish you were here to witness this exciting chapter in my life. Your footsteps echo in my heart, and I know you are watching over me, pushing me forward, and whispering words of encouragement in the wind. I hear your voice guiding me every time I get in the cockpit. I hope to make you proud, to show the world the legacy we carry, and to inspire others to chase their dreams relentlessly.

I am immensely honored and filled with gratitude as I express my heartfelt thanks to Bugatti Racing, my incredible team, and the Bugatti Driver Academy, which has been instrumental in shaping my development until this remarkable moment. It is through their unfaltering belief in my potential and their tireless support that I stand here today, ready to embark on this incredible journey in Formula 1. Bugatti Racing, with its rich history and unwavering commitment to excellence, has provided me with an opportunity of a lifetime, and I am determined to seize it with both hands. With Bugatti Racing and the Bugatti Driver Academy behind me, I am ready to push boundaries, defy expectations, and make an impact on and off the track. Thank you for believing in me. Together, we will write an extraordinary chapter in motorsport history.

To my incredible fans, friends, and family, thank you for standing by me throughout this incredible journey. Your unwavering support has been my driving force. This is just the beginning of a thrilling ride, and I am beyond grateful for every moment, every challenge, and every victory that lies ahead. The road may be long, but together, we will conquer it.

View all 3,948 comments

lewishamilton Congratulations on your incredible achievement! It is a pleasure to welcome you to the F1 family. Your father was a true legend and my idol, and I have no doubt that you will make him proud. Looking forward to competing with you on the track!

hamilfan Lewis’ acknowledgement means a lot! We should be in for some epic battles 👀

gisele Parabéns, querida! Your journey is just beginning, and I can't wait to see you conquer the F1 tracks. Your father's spirit lives on and I'm sure he's beaming with pride from above ❤️

speedchaser She's carrying on the Senna legacy with so much passion! Can't wait to see what she can do in F1

massafelipe Bem-vinda à família da Fórmula 1! It's an honor to have you on the grid, carrying on your father's legacy. Wish you the best of luck and many podium finishes ahead! Go out there and make Brazil proud 🇧🇷

brazilianrocket Massa knows what it takes to make Brazil proud and his support speaks volumes. Brazil is with Y/N all the way!

neymarjr Parabéns, garota! A new star is born in the world of racing. Keep pushing limits, breaking barriers, and chasing greatness. Wishing you a successful and thrilling journey ahead 🏆

sportingbrazil This is huge! Two young Brazilian icons in their respective fields lifting each other up. They’re both going to be something special 👏

adrianalima Congratulations, darling! You are an inspiration to so many women around the world. May you continue to shine bright ☀️ Keep chasing dreams and breaking barriers!

girlypower Adriana is an inspiration to so many and now we have another role model to look up to! What an amazing milestone

bsennaofficial I couldn't be prouder! Your talent and dedication are unmatched. Keep pushing and make our family name even brighter! Love you ❤️

racetrackhero Incredible to see the Senna name continue to shine on the F1 stage 🙌

2012 Monaco Grand Prix — Wednesday Press Conference

Comments

⤷ What a phenomenal achievement! So proud to see a talented young woman like her breaking barriers in the world of F1. Wishing her all the success!

⤷ This is just a publicity stunt. She's only getting this opportunity because of her famous last name, not her talent.

⤷ This is a fantastic step forward for diversity and equality in motorsport. It's inspiring to see her following in her father's footsteps.

⤷ I highly doubt she has what it takes to compete at the highest level. F1 requires exceptional skill and experience.

⤷ Such a talented and determined driver! Can't wait to witness her skills on the track and watch history being made. The future of F1 is bright!

⤷ Women don't belong in F1. It's a male-dominated sport for a reason. This is just political correctness gone too far.

⤷ Congratulations to her on this amazing opportunity! A new generation of talent is emerging and she's leading the way. Rooting for her every step of the way!

⤷ She's going to be a liability on the track. F1 is a dangerous sport and I just don't think she can handle the pressure.

⤷ I'm not impressed. There are more deserving drivers out there who have worked hard and earned their way into F1. This feels like a token gesture.

⤷ It's so exciting to see the Senna legacy continue. She's going to bring a fresh perspective and a new wave of enthusiasm to the sport. I followed her closely in Formula Renault and I’m looking forward to her F1 debut!

Taglist: @xeliaaaa @cl16version @aileeincomplexity @uh-oh-spaghetti-oh-my-gosh @ninifee1802 @oprantodomar @vanishingcherry @ferraribabe @magicalcowboyarbiter @materialgirl01 @miureiz @kavyaas-world @noodle81937 @cl16gf @laura-naruto-fan1998 @stillbreathin @alexisquinnlee-bc @chiliwhore @itachissneakylink @lxverboy-333 @nim360 @celestialams @chimchimjiminie16 @saturnsrinqs @sharllec @sticksdoesart @ivegotparticulartaste @kruellaaa @multifandomfanfic @love4lando @lunehlana @judeswifey22 @gentlemonsterjennie1 @spencerrxids @eugene-emt-roe @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @g4ns3y @notleclerc @magical-imagination-kgp @ru-kru @christianpulisic10 @paigem00 @paletragedydreamer @fluffyspaceprincess @ironmaiden1313 @dr3lover @deviltsunoda @belennasif

[the-froschamethyst4]

Paper Hearts

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Barrage x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: smut, fluff, wholesome, language, kissing/making out, P in V, eating out, more use of Calvin, High School: nerdy! awkward! Barrage, popular! Reader, Adult Years: cocky! Barrage, innocent! Reader, children, married couple, groping, nipple play,

𖤐Summary: What started out as a small tradition by Barrage back in high school, still carries over into their adult years

————

————

A Week before Valentines Day High School

Cal was on the other side of the corner peaking his head out making sure, she wasn't there, quickly gaining confidence and walking to her locker, the one that was close to her Physics class, and the one she opens right when class is done.

He shoves a paper heart in between the grates of the locker and walking away, Cal was suppose to be in class right now but used the classic excuse 'I have to use the restroom' just so he could do this.

He goes back to class and sits down watching the clock now, he only has 20 minutes before class ends and he could go watch her open her locker and the paper heart falls out.

The bell rings and Cal gathers his stuff and rushes out of the classroom, going to the same hallway where her locker was, she wasn't there. Did she even see it? Did she read it and he missed it? Or has she not come out of the class yet?

Thoughts ran through his mind till he watched her come out of the classroom, her teacher behind her, they were talking about an upcoming project and she needed a bit more detail with it.

She tells her teacher thanks and opens her locker, as she did a piece of paper fell out, she watches as it lands on the ground and she picked it up.

A paper heart

She looks at it and smiles.

"Open it," Cal whispers and almost like she heard him through the loud and bustling crowd she opens it reading it.

A poem

Beneath Verona’s moonlit skies, Two hearts beat soft in love’s disguise. A whispered vow, a stolen glance, A fate entwined a fleeting chance.

O Juliet, my morning light, A rose that blooms in endless night. Your voice, a song, so sweet, so true, A melody the heavens knew.

O Romeo, my soul's embrace, A love the stars could not erase. Though walls may rise and daggers gleam, You are my life, my waking dream.

No name, no feud shall break our bond, For love defies what lies beyond. And though our breaths may fade to dust, In death, we love, in fate, we trust.

As she reads it, she just smiles and keeps the unraveled paper in her locker, she did know...her boyfriend didn't write this, hell, he barely did anything for her on Valentines Day, but it was nice to see someone cared.

"Hey babe!" Her boyfriend, Jake Preston, the schools famous jock, and most popular guy in the school, and Calvin's number 1 bully.

"Jake," she gasped.

"So, listen, I won't be able to hang out after school, I got practice but hey, we still on for V-day?"

"Oh that's okay, and yeah, we're good."

"Cool, I'll see you-what's that?" He points to the paper with the poem.

"Nothing," she shuts her locker. "I have to go to class, care to walk with me?"

"Sure."

Cal hated Jake with a passion, I mean who does like Jake? He's an asshole, a dick, and just a flat-out bully. Cal liked Y/n, but he didn't have the courage to speak to her, because of Jake and Y/n's friends.

Valentines Day

Cal had his backpack on and inside was a bear and a small heart box full of candy. He didn't know how to give this to her without a crowd drawing attention to them both. Cal hated the attention.

He sees her at her locker her friends next to her talking, but she didn't really seem interested in the conversation. Cal took a deep breath, he was going to walk up to her, and just hand them to her.

He moves his backpack over and dig for the items, but he bumps right into Jake, he knocked everything Cal had onto the floor.

"Jake-"

"Oh, look what we have here, little Calvin, who's this shit for?" Jake kicks the stuff that fell onto the floor. He turns his head seeing his girlfriend look at what was happening. "Oh, wait...was this stuff...for her? My girlfriend?" He says.

Cal just stays quiet as everyone looked at what was happening in the hallway.

"Baby! Tell this loser you don't want his gifts." Jake had so much power in this school, that if you define him, he could ruin your entire school year.

Y/n was at first quiet and looked at the items on the floor, if anything this was the most someone has given her, not even Jake has given her a stuffed bear and box of candy, maybe one measly rose that dies within a week.

"I...I am honored you wanted to give me these, but I am not interested," she says as she looks at Calvin, she feels bad for him, she knows he probably doesn't need her pity. But he just nods and walks away.

"Woah, woah, not so fast, nerd, we've got something special for you since you tried to give my girl some gifts."

"Jake, no please," Y/n begs as his friends held Calvin against the lockers and with people watching and cheering Jake on, Jake gave Calvin several blows to the stomach and face.

"JAKE STOP IT!!" Jake gives Calvin one more blow before a teacher came out, Jake's friends drop him and the students scattered.

Jake grabs Y/n's hand and quickly speed walked away from the fight.

"That was a rush!" Jake laughs. Y/n pulls her wrist out of his grip.

"What is wrong with you!!"

"What?"

"You didn't have to do that to him!"

"He was flirting with you!"

"If anything he was being nice, he was going to give me a gift, so what? It's the most anyone has done for me, you've never given me anything!"

"I'm taking you on a date, tonight, to a very fucking expensive restaurant and you want a gift from that freak!?"

"He isn't a freak, Jake, you're such an asshole, how could I've never seen that before! Take someone else, how about that girl that drools over you at your games? Huh? Take someone else! I'm not going and we're fucking over!"

"You're breaking up with me!?"

"Yes, and? I would rather be with someone like Calvin, then be with someone like you!" She storms off and saw that Calvin was being escorted to the nurses office.

She goes to her locker opening it and seeing the paper heart that Calvin, did for her, and she saw the items still on the ground from before. She picks them up and rips a page from her book.

She wasn't the best at origami nothing like Cal, but she turned that page into a paper airplane and went to the office.

"Y/n, what can I help you with?" The front office lady asked with a big smile on her face.

"Is Calvin up here?"

"He is...why do you ask?"

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

Cal sat on the nurses blue bed, feet on the floor and he messes with his fingers, maybe he was wrong about Y/n, maybe she was just like everyone else.

A paper plane lands at Calvin's feet, he picks it up and unfolds it.

He had never known love not the kind that seeped into his bones and made the world feel softer. His life had been built on routine, on logic, on the certainty that love was for others, not for him. But then she arrived, laughter spilling like sunlight, eyes that saw him not just the man he presented to the world, but the one he hid beneath it. Her presence unraveled something in him, something he hadn’t realized was caged. It wasn’t fireworks or a grand revelation; it was quiet, steady, undeniable. A warmth in his chest, a longing in his hands, a certainty in his soul, he had found love, and for the first time, he understood what it meant to truly live.

"It's from my favorite book," a voice spoke from the door, he looks up not really wanting to, but he did.

"Why are you here?" He asked.

"I'm sorry for happened in the hallway...I...I didn't know Jake was like that...he was a kind soul, but I see he never really was..." she walks to him and sit next to him. "How's...your stomach and head?"

"Hurts," he mumbles.

"I liked the poem you gave me." He doesn't say anything. "Are you...mad at me?"

"I just don't like you like I thought I did."

"I understand that...but please know...I did like the gifts," she pulls them out of her backpack. "They're a little damaged but...they're still nice. It's the most anyone has given me."

"Doubt it."

"Doubt it? Why?"

"You're popular...surely people have given you better gifts then I did."

"Jake doesn't get me anything but a single rose that dies in a week, and most people don't care, I'll usually get a 'happy valentines day' or a lazy card...but you gave me candy and a bear." She just smiles.

"It's nothing," he says.

"It's something to me."

The room just goes silent and Y/n stares down at Calvin's hand still holding the paper. She was hesitant but placed her hand on his. He doesn't jerk it back or tells her to stop touching him, but let's her.

She leans over and kisses Calvin's cheek before standing up to leave.

"If you...come by my house later tonight...my parents will be gone, but we can...I don't know, my dinner and watching movies if you want to. That'll be a better Valentines Day date then a restaurant."

She walks out of the office and Cal was just stuck...he didn't move, and his heart was quick in his chest. Thumping against his ribcage. His heart and chest felt like they were going to explode at any moment.

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

Monday, February 10th, 2025

"Mama, I don't wanna go!" Y/n's 5 year old daughter, Emmy whines, she didn't want to go to school, but her 7 year old son, Reed was all set.

"Well, you don't really have a choice, baby," Y/n coos at her daughter.

"Sure, I do," she says.

"No, not really baby. Come on, let's get going." Y/n hurries her children into the car so she could drive them to school.

Once Y/n had them buckled up, she drops down her sun-visor to see what was stuck in her eye, and once she dropped it, a small piece of paper fell out of it.

"Mama, what's that?" Emmy asked.

"Oh, nothing," Y/n sticks it in her cupholder to read it later, but it was a paper heart.

She drives her kids and played some of their favorite songs on the way there.

"Mama, baby shark!" Emmy yells.

"No, we listen to it every morning, it's so annoying!" Reed whines.

"One more time okay?" Y/n says, as she plays it pulling into the school's parking lot.

Emmy was singing it till the door opened by a school employee and both kids get out.

"Bye, babies!" Y/n says.

Once they got out, Y/n grabbed the paper heart and opened it.

Hand in hand, through years we roam, Two hearts entwined, one love, one home. Through whispered dawns and midnight dreams, We stitch our souls in golden seams.

Your laughter rings, a song so bright, A guiding star in darkest night. Your touch, a fire, steady, true, A love that time cannot undo.

Through storms we’ve stood, through joys we’ve danced, In fleeting glances, in a single chance. Not just in vows, but every day, I choose you still in every way.

So here we stand, my love, my life, Forever yours, your faithful wife.

Another poem, this one was about a husband and wife, she smiles and sticks the paper back in the cupholder till she got home.

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

Opening the front door, no sign of her husband, he must be still in bed. She giggles and heads upstairs where she was right. Her husband Cal was still asleep.

She gets on her side of the bed and moves closer to Cal, leaning over him, she moves his hair from his face, she gently caressed his cheek and kissed it.

"How'd you get that paper heart into my car this morning?" She asked, there was a smile on his face.

"I did it at 2 in the morning," he says.

"You sneaky, sneaky man," he cups her face and brings her down to kiss her lips.

"It made you happy didn't it?"

"It did." She smiles.

He sits up and pulls her closer, his lips on her and deepening the kiss. It became very heated and passionate. He pulls her on his lap, his hands resting on her waist and her arms wrap around his neck.

"You went...to the school...in your robe?" He teased.

"I have pajamas on," she giggles.

"That one teacher wasn't there...was he?"

"Not that I could see."

Calvin hated this one teacher, he was old enough to be the kids grandpa, but he loved to hit on Y/n, not in some old man flirting, but in he would like to have someone young like Y/n in his bed every night, and Calvin hates it.

"Doesn't he...have a wife?"

"M-Maybe."

Calvin placed Y/n on her back and pulls her pajama pants down.

"No panties either, risking."

"It's not like I have to get out of the car, besides, I'm not the only mom who shows up in pajamas."

"No, but I bet they wear panties."

"Not like you've ever complained before," she teases him.

"You're right, it just gives me easy access."

He spreads her legs, pushing them to her chest and immediately licking his lips, he leans his head down and starts licking between her folds and then sucking on her bud, she lets out a soft moan, her hips leaving the bed, and her fingers getting tangled in his hair.

His hands held a tight grip on her thigh, her knuckles turning white as she grips the bedsheets. She opens her eyes and sees him shake his head while his tongue quickly moves back and forth, like he was hungry.

His left hand then moves to inside his pajama pants, pumping himself a few times before sitting up and pushing himself inside of her. Her head goes back and she was trapped between his hands and the bed.

Him thrusting into her hard and rough and almost at an ungodly speed. She was bouncing on the mattress, her breasts wanting to pop out her thin shirt.

Cal took it upon himself and just ripped the thin shirt, earning a soft moan from her as the cold air hit his nipples, making them stand.

Cal could feel himself about to cum, so, he starts slowly down, giving a few more thrusts he ended up coming along with Y/n, her head goes back as she let's out a few more moans.

Cal bends down and kisses both her boobs and then kissed under her chin, making her look at him, and soon his lips were on hers.

"Best morning," he says, she giggles and holds him close. "I need a shower," he pats her thigh. "Care to join?"

"Yes," she says, and with ease, Calvin stood up Y/n koala bear hugged him the whole way to the bathroom.

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

Friday, 14th (V-Day)

Calvin gave his daughter a box of chocolate and a stuffed dog and gave Reed a new video game and stuffed bear.

He gave Y/n one of the best gifts, a bouquet of roses, box of chocolates, while Y/n and Calvin were in their bedroom, door closed and locked, and Y/n was giving Cal a fashion show with some lingerie she had picked up a few days ago just for Cal.

He sat back on the bed, staring at the bathroom door that was closed, he was only told by Y/n, she had a surprise for him once the kids are in bed.

"Hon, come on, now." He hears a giggle from the other side of the door and the door finally opens, she stood in a fluffy robe, and he just smiles.

"A robe?"

"Hang on now," she teased, she turns her back to him and slowly removes the robe, she let's it fall to her feet, but Cal was just staring at her bare ass on full display, she turned around to him and now her bare breasts were visible.

"Holy shit," he mumbles.

"Do you like it?"

"Love it honey, not like, love," he says, jaw on the floor, and she starts walking to him.

"You can't destroy this one."

"Destroy, when have I ever destroyed any of your sets?"

"A lot..." she says, giving him a bit of a serious look.

"Okay, okay," his hands traveled up her body, feeling the lace under his hands and parts of her bare body. He gets to her boobs, face going between them, kissing them both while his hands go to her ass giving her a nice squeeze.

"Holy fuck..." he curses under his breath taking in her scent. He stops and pulls away from her making her a bit confused, he hands her something.

A paper heart.

"One more for the night," he says.

It looked plane, but she opens it and just simple 'I love you' was written on it. She smiles, getting on top of him, arm wrapped around his neck and kissed his lips, his hands resting on her waist.

The kiss was heated and Cal fell back while Y/n was still above him.

"I love you," he repeats.

"I love you too," she pecked his lips.

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

Calvin fell on his side of this bed, while Y/n held the blanket to her chest.

"Fuck..." he mumbles.

"Thank you for my gifts," she tells him.

"Thank you for mine," he chuckles giving her ass one last smack.

Cal looked at her as she snuggled closer into his chest. "I'm glad you came around."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean like when we were in high school...after...what happened...I for sure thought you'd hated me..."

"I couldn't...it wasn't your fault that day..."

"But I was a bitch-"

"No, you weren't." He cups her face. "Listen if you wouldn't have come to the nurses office, and talked to me, I probably would have hated you, but...you came and talked with me, you invited me to hang out with you, and then we dated...got married, have two amazing like ones...would you rather have this life with me or have it with that asshole?"

"I wouldn't have forgive myself if I just left you in the state you were in, but I love this life more then anything," she says, cuddling almost impossibly closer to Cal.

"Exactly." He wraps his arms around her and held her tight. "Get some rest." As he said that soft snores were heard from Y/n, he just chuckles, he turns to turn off his lamp and hold her back in his arms.

[wingedshadowfan]

⚠️arcane s2 act iii spoilers // caitvi ending commentary ⚠️

the difference between the last individual scenes of vi and caitlyn, and the one they shared actually made me sob, so here's my analysis of what it all meant

caitlyn is at home, in her family mansion in piltover. her monologue seems to be a messege or an archive for the kirammans or historians after her; she's also looking at the kiramman house files, a family heirloom, a symbol of her legacy and her station, a connection to her mother. she's perhaps searching for something needed in order to start rebuilding the city, perhaps checking if jinx could still be somewhere out there, maybe even seeing what ekko saw about the undercity's vents and water ducts. she still seems to have purpose, or to be in search of one for herself.

vi is also in caitlyn's house in piltover, but she's not with caitlyn. in a city not her own, in a house not her own, it seems she's chosen to sit in a room alone with her thoughts, staring at the fireplace. we hear her humming the tune to a song her mother used to sing, the same one jinx was humming when we first saw her this season - vi's small comfort, the faintest memory from those before her, and nothing to leave to those after her. no roots and no legacy. she's grieving everyone and everything she's lost. stripped of will and void of purpose.

caitlyn is excited to hear vi humming a song. we don't know how long it's been since the war ended, but this implies she hasn't been doing much other than sitting by herself in silence in quite some time. she's become a shell of herself, and caitlyn is worried - she's there for her but doesn't want to push her either. she asks her if she's "still in the fight", and this is a loaded question that i can see two main meanings in - one notably sadder.

1) are you still in there?

what part of you is left, and is it strong enough to keep fighting this state you're in? do you have it in you to keep going? do you have the will to live in spite of it all? is there any fight left in you? are you still with me, or are you just in the room?

and i feel like caitlyn knows the answer but wants to hear it from vi, check in on her and encourage her to open up if she's feeling ready to. because she heard her humming to herself.

and when vi says she's the dirt under caitlyn's nails, she doesn't mean it in a cute, flirty or romantic way. she means it in a self-deprecating "i know i'm not being easy right now" kind of way.

i'm not fun to be around, to have to take care of and wait around for. i'm making things harder for you and i'm holding you back by not cooperating and just getting better. i can't help it.

and she adds onto this, "nothing's ever gonna clean me out"

you're stuck with me. i'm a nuisance to you but i can't leave you because you're all i have left. i think i'm lost and broken beyond repair. i'm crooked. i think i'll never be okay again.

2) have you given up on zaun?

are you still in on fighting the system? have you given up on trying to make others see your people for who you are? do you still have hope in the dream for unity and freedom for zaun?

it sounds like caitlyn does, and she's still up for it, just like she was in the latter half of the first season, before jinx kidnapped her, tried to get vi to kill her, and blew up the counsil building just as its members were about to vote for zaun's sovereignty, killing caitlyn's mother. but caitlyn can't do it on her own - it's vi's home, vi's people, vi's identity - and she needs to know if vi still believes they can change something.

and when vi says she's the dirt under caitlyn's nails, she doesn't literally mean caitlyn, or herself. she means the opposing poles they represent - piltover and zaun, oppressor and oppressed, a pristine policewoman and a crooked criminal. until piltover's view of the undercity and its people changes, zaun will always be a torn in its side, fighting it, defying it, trying to free itself from its clutches. small, perhaps insignificant, an inconvenience, but a part of it that it can't get rid of or erase. it'll always be there, it'll always fight back.

and when she says nothing's ever gonna clean her out, she means she'll never be bent out of shape and lose that part of herself - the ugly, dirty, raggedy part that grew up on the streets of zaun and was raised among all the tragedy, misery and poverty of the undercity. a product of the system. she'll never let that be "washed out" of her, she won't forget her origin or her goals. this is who she is, her identity - not just in the eyes of piltover, but in her own heart - a zaunite.

EDIT: i also saw this interpretation on tiktok if you're interested. to summarize: there's a spanish saying "like nails and dirt" which is used to refer to two people who are inseparable, so this is a testimony of vi's love for caitlyn having given her reason to keep going and stay by her.

[quokkacolazero]

You know what I realized this morning?

Jason doesn't have a happy ending.

And I don't mean because he died, if Jason had survived, he still wouldn't have gotten one.

Just think about it, Percy and Annabeth are finally together and are going to university and during the holydays they see their families. Yeah, they still need to do a couple of quests, but this is like the calmest their lives have ever been, and a dream come true for them.

Hazel and Frank are Praertors of Camp Jupiter. Sure, that was never their plan but mostly because they could never have seen themselves doing something like this. Just look how they've grown! No longer are they the shy probatios that mess everything up, but the most important and most respected people at camp and they're really good at it. AND they get to do it together. Not to mention they've had big shoes to fill (they’re the successors of Jason Grace and Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano, no pressure am I right?).

Leo finally found a family. He now has TWO moms, a little sister, an older sister, new friends, a girlfriend (even if it doesn't work out, I think they'd stay friends), a really cool home... He finally belongs and its everything he's ever wanted.

Piper had a really good ending too like, yeah, her dad lost his job, money and all his assets but this is something she accepted. Because in a twisted way, it's also a dream come true for her. Her father finally has time for her and can pay her attention. She can rediscover her roots and she is figuring herself out without her mom or Hera breathing down her neck. This is literally the best possible outcome.

Even Nico had a happier ending. He is accepted in Camp Half-blood and considers it his home. He has a great boyfriend, is learning to accept himself, has a sister he can visit and is healing.

And finally, Reyna, my Aro-Ace Queen! The girl that was always perceived as "the one that Jason should have ended up with". She defied everybody's expectations and became a hunter of Artemis with her best friend, let go of all the stress she was under and is also finally discovering herself.

But where does that leave Jason? Assuming he had survived, where would he have gone when it was all over? The boarding school? Camp Jupiter? Sure, he had all those temples to build, and he was gonna be pontifex, but that's just a job and those temples were built pretty quickly. We know very little of Jason's life, but we know it couldn't have been easy. Being raised as child soldier since he was a toddler and before that, being raised by wolves. I imagine the closest thing he has to a parental figure is Lupa. Lupa! I mean how fucked up is that? Unless he had some kind of foster parents, but I doubt it, or it would have been mentioned somewhere. What I'm trying to say is that ever since he was a toddler Jason has had this huge weight on his shoulders of being the forbidden child of Jupiter. He was trained from very early on not show his emotions, has had little to no support system and definitely no childhood. (No wonder he is "boring" and "doesn't have a personality", where was he supposed to find the time between not getting eaten and sword training?). So, would permanently going back to Camp Jupiter be healthy? He won't be able to grow there or figure himself out beyond being the son of Jupiter. Plus, he did say he belongs to both camps. But what does that mean? Would he just travel back and forth between the camps? That still feels kind of unstable. He can't even stay with his sister since she's a hunter of Artemis. Sure, his friends would take him into their homes, no questions asked, but where is his home. Where does Jason Grace belong when he isn't the son of Jupiter.

[oddyseye]

i'm big fan of your euryody posts. you have very interesting takes on them, honestly i'd love to hear you talk more about it - so if you feel so inclined you can use this ask as an opportunity to do so 😆 (if you'd rather not feel free to ignore this)

Ohhh, you have no idea how much I’ve been waiting for someone to ask me this. You just handed me an excuse to go off, and I am taking it. Buckle up.

In The Odyssey, Eurylochus is... well, he’s literally just an obstacle. He’s the guy in the background constantly contradicting Odysseus, questioning his choices, and generally making everything more difficult. He’s not complex. He’s not particularly deep (mostly because all we know about him is from the POV and memories of Odysseus; topic for another day). He exists to contrast Odysseus’ leadership and, eventually, to get everyone killed by inciting the Helios disaster. There’s no moment of reconciliation between them, no deeper exploration of what they mean to each other. They’re leader and mutinous second-in-command, and that’s it.

But Epic takes that relationship and adds stakes, emotions, and a whole lot of subtext. Eurylochus and Odysseus care about each other in a way that’s completely absent in Homer. Their arguments aren’t just about survival or leadership. They feel personal, even intimate at times. You get the sense that they’re not just clashing over tactics; they’re clashing because of who they are and what they mean to each other.

At their foundation, Eurylochus and Odysseus are foils. One is pragmatic and fearful; the other is bold and relentless. But in The Odyssey, this conflict is one-sided. Odysseus never doubts himself, and Eurylochus never grows beyond his role as the complainer. Odysseus wins every argument (until Helios, when Eurylochus’ rebellion succeeds for all of two minutes before Zeus obliterates them). Epic changes this by making their power struggle dynamic. Eurylochus actually fights for control. He’s not just whining about Odysseus’ choices. He’s actively challenging them. In "Full Speed Ahead," he pushes for a more aggressive, violent approach, forcing Odysseus to push back. This immediately establishes their relationship as a battle for dominance rather than a simple leader/follower dynamic.

And then there’s "Luck Runs Out." This song isn’t just a warning. It’s an accusation. Eurylochus is terrified, but he’s also angry. He resents Odysseus’ ability to defy the odds, because deep down, he knows he can’t do the same. The line "How much longer ‘til your luck runs out?" isn’t just a question—it’s a challenge. It’s Eurylochus telling Odysseus, You are not invincible. One day, you will fall. And I will be there to see it.

Compare this to The Odyssey, where Eurylochus never actually directs that kind of emotion at Odysseus. His complaints are functional — "Hey, maybe let’s not go into the witch’s house?" — but they lack emotional weight. In Epic, Eurylochus’ words sting. You can tell they hurt Odysseus, and that’s what makes the scene work.

One of the most brutal aspects of their dynamic in Epic is how Odysseus knows exactly how to control Eurylochus. And he uses it. In "Puppeteer," Odysseus isn’t just telling Eurylochus to follow orders, he’s guilt-tripping him into compliance.

“There’s no length I wouldn’t go if it was you I had to save. I can only hope you’d do the same.”

That line is so manipulative, and it works because we know Eurylochus would do the same. He does care about Odysseus. The way Epic frames their relationship, Eurylochus’ fear doesn’t come from selfishness, rather it comes from not wanting to lose Odysseus. And Odysseus? He plays into that, whether consciously or not.

Homer’s Odysseus never really engages with Eurylochus beyond practical leadership. If Eurylochus complains, Odysseus either ignores him or gets mad. That’s it. There’s no subtlety to their power struggle. But Epic takes that struggle and turns it into something dangerous, because they both know exactly how to hurt each other. And the worst part? Odysseus always wins. Even when Eurylochus is right, even when Odysseus’ choices do lead to disaster, Eurylochus still follows him. Because at the end of the day, Odysseus has something Eurylochus doesn’t: certainty. In The Odyssey, he’s more of a minor antagonist who doesn’t get to fully voice that sense of betrayal or weariness.

As the story progresses in Epic, Eurylochus becomes increasingly alienated from Odysseus. His grievances culminate in the song "Mutiny," where he openly accuses Odysseus of sacrificing six men to appease his own selfish desires. This moment is pivotal in understanding Eurylochus’ character: it’s not just about the men lost; it’s about his belief that Odysseus is making reckless decisions driven by personal longing (his desire to return home to Penelope) without considering the lives of his men. The accusation is a breaking point, one that represents Eurylochus finally stepping into the role of a leader, demanding accountability for the men’s deaths. EPIC takes the tragic route: Eurylochus's loyalty is fractured, not because of his doubts, but because of the sacrifices he’s forced to witness. His emotional breakdown in Mutiny shows his frustration with Odysseus’s decisions, especially the sacrifice of six men to Scylla. This contrasts with Odyssey Eurylochus, who remains more stoic in his dissent, never quite going to the extremes of mutiny that his musical counterpart does.

Eurylochus’ conflict with Odysseus is much more emotionally charged and personal. The intensity of their interactions shows how Odysseus’ overconfidence and reliance on his intellect have begun to alienate his crew. Eurylochus’ skepticism turns into palpable fear for their lives. In the Odyssey, Eurylochus often stands as a foil to Odysseus in their interactions. He criticizes the captain’s decisions, but he never takes matters into his own hands before convincing the crew to eat the cattle. But even that is out of desperation, not personal vendetta against Odysseus. His actions are driven by survival, not by outright rebellion for the sake of rebellion.

Thus, in the Odyssey, there’s no real moment where Odysseus has to put his foot down like he had in Luck Runs out. It’s understood that he’s the leader. He doesn’t really give anyone a reason to doubt him until the point where it’s completely unavoidable.

The musical does portray Odysseus as a far more charismatic figure, but the way he turns on Eurylochus when the latter starts getting too rational is… chef’s kiss for understanding Odysseus’ character. So, at first, Odysseus plays this role as though he’s all about “We’re in this together, my brother.” But then, once Eurylochus starts getting a little too smart, basically challenging him with some logic and reasonable concerns, Odysseus shuts it down faster than you can say “power struggle.” He doesn’t let his bestie think for himself anymore. That sudden shift? It’s sharp. It’s the difference between someone who sees themselves as a leader among equals, and someone who’s like, “Nope. You follow my orders or you’ll regret it.” That’s a pretty damn authoritarian shift in his character, and it's much more pronounced in Epic. The minute Eurylochus stops just following blindly and starts raising reasonable concerns, Odysseus clamps down with full-on Captain Mode™.

In Epic, Eurylochus also doesn’t just question the wisdom of not eating the cattle, he has a meltdown. He’s openly defiant, taking on the role of a grievance holder for all the men who are now suffering and starving. The musical gives Eurylochus a much more expressive, almost theatrical quality here, his skepticism is no longer “Oh, maybe we should reconsider this,” but a full-blown dissenter’s rage. He’s tired of being the obedient follower, and this is where we get the vocal outburst that challenges Odysseus’ authority in a way that’s both more dramatic and, arguably, more self-righteous than Homer’s portrayal. But here's where it gets interesting: when Eurylochus pushes back in Epic, Odysseus doesn't even try to compromise. He simply goes into full authoritarian mode, shutting Eurylochus down with, “Don’t question me! I’m the leader here, not you.” The whole idea of their relationship shifts into something more authoritative. Odysseus is no longer leading by the strength of his character and wit. He leads with force and power. It's a total authoritarian breakdown.

If you think about it, the way Odysseus shifts from a diplomatic leader to a dominator is pretty fascinating. It’s like watching someone start out in a genuine friendship and then slowly reveal their need for control, because at the core, Odysseus knows that as a leader, he can’t afford to be questioned.

...I will probably reblog this with more to talk about because I want to take a nap, though. Sorry for not finishing this lol.

[wordsandrobots]

What are your thoughts on the relationship between Mineva and Haman and whether or not Haman cared for her beyond being a political puppet? SRW V put forth the idea that Haman may have had some genuine care for her and leaves Mineva with a lot of conflicting feelings on who was essentially family to her

Hmm.

So I was struck when I was rewatching Zeta episodes for the analysis of Haman that one of the first things she says about Mineva that isn't official-speak is calling the seven year old puppet-queen a coward.

I don't think there's any question that Zeta shows Mineva holding affection for Haman. It's very clear she is by far the most trusted figure in her life. But we are also told, almost immediately, that Haman has little sympathy for her over what is a fairly natural response to violence breaking out among the adults surrounding her. Later, Mineva says that Char understands her better than anyone else, which is interesting and ironic, but also points to her dependence on Haman having its limits.

Nevertheless, Mineva goes out of her way to defy Haman's instructions in order to return to the battlefield and share a warning when things spiral out of control. And Haman is surprised, evidently not for the first time, by the child's perceptiveness. So their relationship is not as simple as Mineva dancing to a tune set by her guardian. She has her own will and desires, and if those are a problem for Haman, there's no sense that she is overly restrictive of Mineva beyond what would be expected of the girl's position (etiquette, public relations, towing the party line - honestly, Char's reaction is at once valid and wildly naive).

Indeed, I think it's important to bear in mind that Haman's style of leadership is just generally quite publicly pleasant to those around her. I don't mean she never raises her voice or gets sharp, but rather that she has a very firm, very level, very confident persona that doesn't ever descend into you have failed me for the last time type excesses. She might brainwash and manipulate people on her side, but she doesn't get directly abusive to their faces (unless they prove themselves her enemy, at which point all bets are off). One of the reasons the break in Dakar works so well is because Judau scares her enough to drop the act and barrel furiously through her guards.

It's not really a surprise, in context, that Haman would be relatively kind to Mineva. That's the smart choice, especially since it is vitally important she control someone who, though young, outranks her. Mineva can simply decide to go off with a bunch of random kids, or move around on her own, or send Haman a bowl of (presumably expensive) fresh fruit as a gift, and there's not a lot anyone can do to contradict her. If there were, the entire underpinning of Neo Zeon society would collapse. You don't get to argue with the monarchy.

Under these conditions, it's also not a surprise Haman would swap the real Mineva out for a more pliable double when she needs to start making big moves (checking the Wiki, it asserts that Char took her away after the Gyps incident, but I don't think that's necessarily the implication from the end of ZZ - certainly it's never stated outright why Haman replaces her and the double must have been prepared ahead of time). We really have extremely little material where the real Mineva is interacting with Haman. Everything in Gundam ZZ has to be assumed to be the double, who we know doesn't believe Haman cares about her. We can additionally assume Haman preserving the double's safety is about maintaining the illusion, because if she doesn't, her authority is in jeopardy. She's already got Glemy true-Scotsmanning his way into a Zeon schism; she can't afford to lose her status as regent because it looks like she lost the queen.

So where does that leave Haman's feelings towards the real Mineva?

In my opinion, we're given too many reasons to read Haman's actions as cynical to attribute any of them to genuine affection. Haman is defined by her loneliness and there's nothing in their interactions to suggest Mineva does anything to ease that. I don't see how she could, given she is so thoroughly embedded in the structure Haman is subverting. Mineva is a figure, first and foremost, her actual personality and feelings secondary to her status as the thing to be controlled in order to achieve a certain result.

I think Hamann is presented as showing genuine care for Mineva, but the implied motivations are always self-serving and based on what would make life easiest. Quite often, the best means of getting what you want is to be nice about it.

And that would surely still leave Mineva with a lot of complicated feelings to work through. Heck, one of the things I would genuinely love to see as a UC spin-off (even though I think the franchise is massively over-saturated with tUC spin-offs) would be a follow-up focused on Mineva and her double getting to have a conversation about Haman. We never found out what happened to that other girl and it feels like a big missed opportunity.

Anyway, those are all the thoughts I currently have. Thanks for the ask!

[sugar-petals]

I screamed when I saw Tim on your feed yes we love a pretty guitar man

finally a fellow Tim Henson enthusiast!! 🎉

guess we have a type (= overqualified youtube twink w/ a futuristic fashion sense aka the best young guitarist out there 🗣).

risky post incoming cuz he's HOT & i love hands

[for those who don't know who this pretty boy is: tim's yt | tim's ig | tim's twt | about his band polyphia]

i agree he's gorgeous: jealousy magnet, mr henson has it all!!

- the delicious ink 😍 (neck tattoo: the sign of a masochist)

- 0% gravity hair (those fluffy waves! looking so soft tim, geez 🤒)

- the sexy 8 string guitar, cause he can, how does he do that??

- the alt beauty (tim radiates haughty expensive power bottom who talks back to get punished ngl, he's prog rock's #1 it boy)

-the sweater game, all day, every day (unmatched)

-the best technique. ice cold (easily most proficient hands in the music biz as of lately 😏 people either 1. hate him to the death or 2. need him carnally for this lmao, love me a polarizing guitar prodigy)

-A WHOLE FEMBOY BODY (even his ass is huge as of recently!! and the waist keeps getting smaller helpp)

I'm going feral over his body linee don't @ me!! how smokin' could anyone be??

-the actual live skills, not just yt editing (needless to say! any straight or bi man should be able to move his fingers like that hhh there I said it 😂 tim keeps the standards as high as he is lmao)

-the studio (oh the things that should be happening on that chair! ...anyways: it's so modern but not boring, i like it)

-the stylish guitars with the floral fretboards (guitar fuckers assemble!!! finally nylon strings are back thanks to him 💕)

-even more gorge guitars YES model it for us legend!!

-plus he's got an all-round good taste in everything. quality is key! composition and character is always a matter of taste. but timmy never dropped a bad video, bad promo, bad album covers, bad vlogs, bad cinematography, bad advert, bad ig post, bad anything. he's always the sassiest gnc slayer short king golden boy in the room doing the most 👑

...and seriously tho tim being texan youth i respect him defying the status quo!! that's real rock'n'roll☝️ he dressed for women and tops on the internet just to serve and confound some boomers along the way! prince would be proud 😎

homophobes leaving him anti-androgynous/misogynist/bodyshaming comments just can't cope with the sexiness, which he never compromised🤘 i truly pronounce tim bi ppls' favorite. since apparently nobody except the guitar community wants him we now own this man 🔥

-BONUS: last but not least look at this silver ibanez. look at it! tim is a design and aesthetics icon i rest my case... that many people still don't know about him is beyond me. he deserves all the clout!

i mean even personally... he's the kinda guy where you don't know if you came for the looks/fit or the skills and you stay for both! his playing style never disappoints. i always look forward to him dropping new material. tell me what your fave tim piece to listen to is ❤️

[worldsetfree]

What if Aizen got to be with an eldritch reader? Like the incomprehensible outer god kind

Oh, hoh, hoh! This is so intriguing to think about! This may come as a surprise, but in my youth it was the stories and worlds of things like Alien, Halo, Evangelion, and other horrors that both terrified me and formed the foundations of my love for creative writing. Cosmic horror in particular is near and dear to my heart.

Thank you for the ask! I'm fiending over this idea. Shit, how would a fic for this even look...? Maybe look out for that some day...

In the meantime, here are some headcanons. Reader is appropriately ethically ambiguous in this one.

Warnings: Yandere-type obsession, Aizen's probably going to lose his mind, love and war on a higher plane of existence, tiny Cour 4 spoiler.

Aizen Sōsuke × Eldritch!Reader

A colour out of space, though only by analogy are you a colour at at all.

So to me, you ain't just some higher being for him to roll up on and insist that he could do your job better. "Eldritch" means something specific and great and terrible, and tbh, I think that kind of entity is a HORRIBLE match-up for our boy.

Hopefully, Eldritch!Reader is merciful or he's cooked! Know-It-All Egoist Aizen Sōsuke fits terribly well into the Lovecraftian box of a man who falls from the heights of hubris right into the snapping maw of something truly evil.

If Kubo ever kills him off (I don't think he will, though), on my life this will be how it happens. I don't want to dwell on this too much cause Cour 4's not out yet, but manga readers know that Kubo's already toyed with this idea.

I don't like to say "oh well, obviously no diff", especially with a character like Aizen, but this? THIS?? This Reader might be the one to finally tell us if the Hōgyoku tastes as fruit gummy as it looks!

Oh! Is the Hōgyoku your conduit and how you will- I gotta settle down, I'm getting way too excited about this prompt!

ANYWAY...

What, dear Reader, has made you decide to entertain yourself with this little mortal? Is it the wild ambition in his eyes? Was it his own attempts to reach you? Will he be your messenger?

No, but seriously, imagine his horror at reaching up to the heavens, so assured of his footing and convinced of his understanding of the world, only to have the very Earth pulled out from under him.

Upon discovery, Aizen Sōsuke fucking hates you. There's no way around it. Man has well-documented issues with authority figures. You are his antithesis, his nemesis!

He craves control, and your very existence defies all that his self-assuredness and power built up.

But as we saw in the Deicide Arc, you're also kind of everything he's aspiring to be?

Transhumanism, ascension, apotheosis... All concepts that he's shown to be very enamoured by. An eldritch being inherently vibes with his philosophy on power, too.

One of my favourite video games has this fire quote that is burned into my skull:

"A god — a real god — is a verb. Not some old man with magic powers. It's a force. It warps reality just by being there. It doesn't have to want to. It doesn't have to think about it. It just does."

and I think that really resonates with Aizen, too. This is what he aspired to be. To shed limits and reason and become something even nightmares can't comprehend.

So he's going to be hateful and obsessed with Eldritch!Reader lmao. A real enemies-to-lovers story.

He's not starting a cult, he will exist in utter defiance of you. He insists.

In fact, he'll uplift himself beyond the heavens and the stars until you're naught but dust beneath him! - Aizen, probably

You know if there's Necronomicon-type literature on you, Aizen's already memorized it and is flying way too close to the sun with all this information!

(Realistically he'll be inevitably driven to madness by the knowledge, but let's pretend Reader is in a good mood)

How dare you exist, who do you think you are-

But then he breathes and recomposes himself. Aizen is nothing if not cautious, after all. But how to approach and exceed something like you...?

You are going to become his goal. His life's work will be dedicated to you.

The power you hold over all things, the parts of you he bears witness to, all fascinate and deeply unsettle him. But he is known to have the strength to move forward in spite of fear.

More than most, he is able to see the beauty in your divinity. You're strong and transcendental and so dangerously intriguing, and the idea that he might one day exist as your equal (and more) thrills him.

Love blooms from obsession and devotion here. You occupy his every waking moment. Man lays in bed at night thinking about you: how much he loathes you, how he needs to become like you, how he's going to reach out and hold your pretty face in his hands and-

He's irritated when he notices his thought patterns changing. Did you coax this out of him?

You compel him to do insane things, like mangling his comrades and subjugating (and he loves how that word feels on his tongue) the Hōgyoku.

Ascendence is a siren song to him, and you, you wicked thing, are its zenith. For now.

He's going to reach you, make contact with you, adore you, devour you someday. He is relentless and he's got forever, after all.

And the next twenty-thousand years to come to terms with how he really feels about you.

Whew. I feel like I just ran a marathon. I'm going to post this. Might expand it later, in some shape or form.

Thank you so much for this wonderful prompt. I think this brain worm will stick with me for a while.

[thescarletnargacuga]

OOOH CARNIVAL FICS?

Boy, I have a thing for you!

I've recently fallen in love with the song "Kiss me (Kill me)," and it gave me an idea.

You know when sm-baby mentioned how Pomni may be the final boss? Well... Pomni loses control after Caine beating Kinger's level, it results in a battle between Caine... And Pomni...

Towards the very end her sentience returns for a brief moment to aid him.

But... Results in her tragic end.

Leaving Caine heartbroken.

- Fowl Anon

A/N: how devastating...

GAME OVER

A TRAGIC CARNIVAL AU SHOWTIME ONESHOT

Carnival AU credit: @sm-baby

WARNING: HEAVY angst, hurt/some comfort, digital violence, main character death, non-sentient Pomni

~~~

The King fell from his throne with a heavy thud. It was over. It was finally over. Caine stood shakily next to the dethroned King boss. Pomni was hiding in the curtains that separated the room from the main hallway. A heavy silence filled the room as they processed what they had just done.

Caine was still trying to catch his breath when he looked around for Pomni, seeing her peak from her hiding spot.

"...you did it." She said in quiet astonishment as she stepped out into the open. A wide smile slowly grew. "You did it!" She cheered as she ran to Caine, arms open.

Caine barely registered in time she was going to hug him before impact. "Oof! Ha...yeah...I guess I did." He side eyes Kinger as he embraces Pomni. Something still felt off. He couldn't figure what was bothering him in the back of his mind, but it felt like a memory trying to make its way through the blackout.

Pomni's smile faltered. A faint green glow circled her irises before being blinked away. She couldn't move.

"What..? Oh, come on! Not again!" Sentient Pomni groaned inside her own head.

Pomni whispered to Caine. "Well done, player. Your final reward awaits you in the Circus." She gave him a seductive smirk as she pulled him towards the curtains by the hand.

"Uuugh...you know, I don't need you to keep flirting with him. We're already sorta...uh, actually, I don't know what we are-"

Caine blushed. Being completely distracted by the look in her face, he misses her calling him Player. "Of- of course, Pomni, but I feel I should tell you that I don't really care about the award. Whatever it is. I'm just happy your friends are free of the madness."

"Trust me, you'll enjoy this." Pomni stepped back into the darkness beyond the curtains. A look of mischievous glee on her face.

Sentient Pomni didn't know what the program was talking about. There was nothing past Kinger. HE was the final boss. The game credits should be rolling or something. Where were the ending cutscenes? Why did everything still feel the same?

Caine's mind raced, trying to figure out what she was talking about. He stopped himself before it went places that would defy the game's E rating and followed Pomni into the loading screen for the hallway.

Some things are too good to be true...

Caine took a deep breath, happy to be out of the Kings court, but a sense of bittersweetness hit him. He's done. He and Able can leave... but what about Pomni? She can't leave. Maybe he could come back? Maybe the game would work properly now that everyone's madness has been corrected? He squeezed his teeth shut at the overwhelming thoughts.

He needed to talk this through with her, he knew that much. They've grown close. He cares for her. He didn't want to just leave. "Pomni- ...Pomni?" He opened his teeth to find himself alone in the hallway. "Maybe she's taking longer to load in?" He waited. She never came.

Band organ music came from the far end of the cavernous hall, playing a showtime tune. It eerily echoed to Caine like a circus siren's call. Caine followed the music cautiously. "Pomni..?" It came from behind Pomni's door, light shining from beneath. With no other options on what to do, he opened the door and stepped through.

Welcome to the show

Caine entered the tent to applause, lively music playing and spotlights flashing around the unseen audience. He hasn't seen the circus so lively since his performance in level one.

Around the center ring were figures Caine couldn't quite make out, the bright spotlights blinded him with every pass. He got closer. The figure nearest him was moving erratically.

"Caine!! Caine, it's a tra-mmph!!" Able tried to warn his brother, only to be silenced by a dancer's ribbon wrapping his cards together.

The lights stopped. The music stopped. A single spotlight came on over a figure on the high tightrope. "Tsk...tsk...why must you spoil the surprise?" A high feminine laugh fills the big top.

More lights come on over the restrained figures around the center ring. Ragatha. Gangle. Jax. Zooble. Kinger. All bound in chains along with Able.

"Pomni!? What's going on??" Caine was mortified, seeing the malicious grin on her face. His head hurt. The foreign memory feels closer.

"Congratulations, Player. You've defeated everyone who stood in my way. Now, this is MY Carnival! MY SHOW! And you..." She chuckles darkly. "...are no longer required."

"CAINE! I'M SORRY! I CAN'T STOP THIS!" Sentient Pomni screamed from inside, fighting back as hard as she could.

"The secret boss..." Caine said to himself. "You....no..." It was in the game files he read before he ever entered to find his brother. Information that was stored in Bubble, but never knew the true identity of the boss. Only that they existed. "Pomni, don't do this!" He pleaded.

"WELCOME TO YOUR GRAND FINALE!!" Pomni raised her arms and the circus became vibrate neon. Every color was an attack on the senses. Loud music blared. NPC circus performers and toy-like life sized animals emerged from backstage. It was a flurry of movement that disoriented Caine.

A massive health bar, one ever larger than Kinger's, appeared in Caine's lower field of vision. She was not Pomni. She was THE JESTER.

An elephant with performers atop it rampaged at Caine. He dove out of the way just in time. He looked back up at the tightrope. The Jester was gone. He has to keep moving. Every step he took, another performer was attacking him. "POMNI! STOP! I DON'T WANT TO FIGHT YOU!!"

Multiple confetti canons aimed and fired. Caine's preacticed reflexes kept him clear of each shot as he searched for Pomni in the chaos. He dodged flying balls and colorful performing horses. He didn't see the arial silk performers swinging at him, and he was struck in the chest.

Caine rolled across the circus floor, slamming into one of the poles supporting the tightrope. He struggles to get to his feet, winded from the hit. Someone stood before him, he looked up to see the Jester glaring down at him. She grabbed his collar and pulled him to his feet with unknown strength.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please, don't hurt him!" Sentient Pomni begged.

"Then take your final bow, Player. Because everything ends here." She threw him away from her in time for a trapeze to swing low and knock him to the far side of the circus.

Caine lost a whole third of his health. Tears brimmed his eyes. This was too much. Everything was happening at once. He wasn't ready for this.

He tried to run for the door.

He slammed into it as it refused to budge.

"Nuh-uh-uh, Player." The Jester giggled. "There is no escaping me." She sent a flurry of streamers to entangle her prey.

Caine moved quickly from the door, outrunning the streamers as they reached for him.

Pomni grunted in frustration. "Stop moving!" She pointed to Caine, confetti canons ready to fire.

Caine ran around until he stood between the Jester and a canon. "I'm sorry..." He dove out of the way in time for a shot of violent confetti to smack the Jester off her feet.

"Ah!" Sentient Pomni screeched from the hit. She could still feel everything happening to her body.

The damage to the boss Jester was minimal, but Caine felt a rock in his stomach having to hurt her. Tears made it hard to focus. "I'm sorry!" He ran for a trapeze pole to get away from the chaotic movement on the ground.

The Jester wiped her lip, cackling. "Yes, Player! Fight back! Give the audience a show they'll never forget!"She raised her arm and a swinging performer grabbed her to move her up.

Caine found himself where this all started; on a small platform, high above the circus, Pomni opposing him, but instead of performing together...he was meant to defeat her. His chest felt tight. "Pomni! I know you're in there! It doesn't have to be this way! There's always a choice!"

Sentient Pomni cried from inside her prison. "Not this time..."

The Jester grinned. "Win or lose. That is your choice, Player."

Caine looked down at his brother. Able was still bound, desperately fighting the restraints.

Defeat the Jester, and he and Able are free.

Die, and Able and the others live in the Jester's world forever.

Caine clenched his fists. He glares at the Jester with mournful anger. "I'll find a way! I'm not finishing this without Pomni!"

The Jester let out a shrill laugh. "Then you are a greater fool than you seem!" She leapt from her platform to grab a trapeze. The audience cheered as the Jester did a flip to the next trapeze to get closer to Caine.

An idea came to him. He grabbed the trapeze hooked to his side and swung. The Jester spun midair to catch another swinging trapeze when Caine came up high and clothes lined her with his leg.

"Ack-!" The Jester was struck in the neck and missed the bar. She was caught by another passing aerialist.

The crowd booed and a good chunk of the Jester's health bar went down.

"Goodness, that worked!?" Caine gasped as he landed on a platform.

Sentient Pomni groans, instinctually rubbing her neck. Then she suddenly felt less restricted. "Huh?"

Green and blue pixels distorted the Jester's eyes, she shook it off. "ARGH!" The Jester growled, kicked the NPC off of her and swung herself at Caine.

Caine dove for a passing silk and arched with it at the oncoming Jester. He twisted his silk with hers, preventing her from doing anything impressive.

The crowd booed harder.

"NO!!" The Jester snarled, trying to get her silk swinging again. Her health went down more. "NO!! MY PERFORMANCE WILL NOT BE RUINED!!" She jumped from the silk to a passing elephant, doing a handstand. She got a few cheers and her health increased some.

Sentient Pomni slammed herself against the borders of her mind. With each hit she felt movement in her own fingers again. "You can't hold me! I'll make sure you fail!" One more good try and her arms glitched out on the hand stand, dropping the Jester on her face.

Caine saw the glitches. "Pomni!! Keep fighting!" He swung himself to trapeze and gained some speed to fly kick at the Jester.

The Jester sat up on the elephant in time to see a boot flying at her face. She tried to duck, but she glitched back up.

BAM!!

The Jester fell backwards off the elephant to the dusty floor outside the ring. The Jester glitched and pixelated severely. Health dropping, Pomni fought hard for control. "Caine! Please!! End this- NO! I will have what is due! I am the Ringmaster now- CAINE!!" Pomni the Jester's eyes flashed between blue and green. Glitches distort their appearance and voice.

Caine had landed nearby and watched the horrific ordeal Pomni was facing. "Pomni, I can't! You- I don't want to defeat you! Regain control!"

"She's too- YOU WILL NOT STOP ME!!" The Jester got up faster than Caine could react. Her eyes blazed green as she shoved Caine over the edge of the ring. He fell backwards into the path of the stampeding animals and performers. "NOOO!!"

Caine was trampled by zebras and clowns on pogo sticks. He crawled as far as he could out of the way but took serious damage. His health was in the red. He planted as he crawled for the pole ladder. He glared back at the Jester. "You want me? ...come and get me."

"Caine! Don't!" Pomni fought the Jester as she grabbed a circling performer to the other pole connecting the high tightrope. Glitches made her slip every few rungs, but the Jester determinedly climbed in her single minded agenda to end this.

Caine met the Jester's glare across the wire. The audience below awed at the spectacle of the two performers making their way toward the middle. Caine focused hard to keep balance. He has a plan.

When the Jester was far enough from her platform, he pirouetted, making the wire wobble. This got him applause and thwarted the Jester's attempts at a stunt. The Jester's health fell to critical and she glitched hard. She fell on the wire and koala clung to it.

Caine moved closer, ready to grab at her. "Fight her, Pomni! You can do it!"

Pomni fought with all her might, but it wasn't enough. Whatever restrictions were on the program that allowed her to maintain control were gone. The Jester was here to stay. "I-I- can't!" Pomni glitched again as the Jester fought back. She slid, hanging on the wire with only her hands.

Caine dropped on the wire and grabbed her arm. "I believe in you, Pomni! Please! I've got you!"

The failed wire stunts made the crowd angry. They booed and hissed at the "poor" performance, making the Jester screech and glitch. Her hands slipped off the wire.

Caine gripped her wrist as hard as he could. "Pomni!!"

Pomni held tight as she saw the chaos below. Then Abel. Her friends. This was bigger than her. This ended with her, one way or another. She looked back at Caine, sorrow in her eyes. "Let me go..."

"WHAT!? No! You're going to win this!"

"She's too powerful. This won't stop until it's over. It's the only way you'll get home."

"It can't be the only way! Don't let go!" He pleaded as he felt her slipping.

Pomni gave him a sad smile. "I love you, Caine Alexander Eden..." She let go of his wrist.

"POMNI!!!" He cried out as her hand slid through his grasp.

Pomni closed her eyes as she fell to the circus floor. Caine lost sight of her in the crowd of performers and made his way to the nearest platform to climb down.

A hush fell over the tent as the performers vanished. The music stopped. The colors muted. The audience went silent. The chains binding Able and the others broke.

Pomni was revealed lying face up in the center of the circus, as though she only fell asleep. Caine rushed to her, fell to his knees and held her to his chest. "Pomni? Pomni, please." He gently brushed the hair from her face. He shook with grief. This couldn't be how things were supposed to end.

He held her for a long while, part of him hoping she would just...wake up. He couldn't hold in the sorrow that washed over him. He wailed as he held her against him. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Pomni, I'm sorry!" He hiccupped as he sobbed against her face. "I love you too...I always have...I'm sorry I was too much of a coward to tell you..."

Able kneeled next to Caine. There was nothing he could say that would make the situation better in the slightest. He sat with Caine just to be there for him. The others didn't crowd, but they were mournfully silent in solidarity.

Bubble popped in, gently leaning against Caine's shoulder. His abilities calm Caine's heart rate.

Caine felt Pomni get lighter in his arms. He sat up with a gasp, a split second of hope in his heart that she was getting up. Instead, her body turned to wisps of glitter. She fell apart in his hands and flew to create a doorway in front of him.

The glitter solidified and became a bright red door with the word exit printed on it. Caine sat, mortified as the ending text appeared before him.

Thank you for playing the Amazing Digital Carnival!

[torchwood-99]

I Do Like We Never Get Eowyn's Date of Death

I can grumble a bit about it, that this seems overlooked, yet at the same time it kind of feels right for Eowyn's arc, especially if you compare it to Arwen's arc.

Eowyn's arc is all about choosing life. For the longest time she wishes to choose death, she has no desire to live, and even when after she achieves a great deed and so earns herself the renown she needs, and has defied the orders that kept her in the cage she so feared, still she wishes for nothing but to die in honour and glory.

Yet ultimately she chooses life. She chooses to heal, she chooses to grow, she chooses to go to Ithilien so everything there might bloom with her coming, taking on Galadriel's role as a "White Lady" of a forest, Galadriel now leaving her forest fading as the time of the elves ends and the power of Nenya dies, while Eowyn entering her forest kingdom which is free to heal now that the One Ring has been destroyed. Her arc is all about making the choice to live.

Therefore, to end with a note on the date of her death, even in the appendices, would undermine this theme. Instead, the appendices remark she won renown for her deeds on the Pelennor, remembered forever as "Lady of the Shield Arm". We do not know when she dies, but we can be certain she lived in memory beyond her death.

Arwen's is the opposite. Arwen's arc is about choosing to die. Choosing to endure the pains and sorrows of mortality, choosing the unknown of the world after death, choosing change and a loss of everything known and familiar, all for love. Her story ends in her lying down to die, because she no longer wishes to live, in a forest that has gone past its glory days, clinging to memories of what came before. The closing remarks on her narrative speculate on how eventually she and her story will be forgotten, for even that will end.

Eowyn and Arwen almost have a reversal of roles, one starting in despair and anger, moving onto joy, the other beginning in a place of contentment, only to fall into grief and despair.