#they thought they were building a better world

[xhyjin]

thinking about nanami kento! (when am i not) with a s/o that is socially awkward/shy

he knew from the start that you were distant. during work parties, you never showed up, only clocking in to work and leaving once your duties were done, never lingering to chat or mingle. the rare times you did attend, you stayed in the corners, quietly observing with wide, nervous eyes and a faint blush coloring your cheeks. he couldn’t help but be intrigued, and one day, curiosity got the better of him. he approached you. your words stuttered, your face burned red, but there was something about the way you responded that made him instantly drawn to you. from that moment, you became his reason to look forward to work every day.

he began to notice the little things about you. how you stayed tucked away in your cubicle, only speaking to coworkers when necessary. how you spent your lunch breaks alone, either watching a show on your phone or quietly eating, lost in your own thoughts. and how, at the end of the day, he’d sometimes catch you smiling to yourself in the elevator, as though you’d found happiness in the smallest of things. it fascinated him how content you seemed in your own world, and after weeks of silently admiring you, he finally decided to approach you properly.

but he was careful—patient. he knew you were shy and reserved, so he didn’t want to overwhelm you. he started small, spending lunch breaks with you. at first, the silence between you both was awkward, though not unwelcome. you blushed furiously at the attention but didn’t push him away. instead, you quietly shared bits of your lunch with him, a subtle gesture that said, i’m glad you’re here. he knew you struggled with words, so he didn’t press. instead, he let his presence speak for itself, slowly building a bridge of comfort between the two of you.

when kento finally worked up the courage to ask you out, making it clear that this wasn’t just work-related but a date; you could hardly believe it. your eyes widened, and then you nodded eagerly, your happiness shining through. his heart swelled at your reaction. he had planned a simple outing, maybe a cafe, but seeing your excitement, he wanted to make it special. he made reservations at a nice restaurant, ensuring you’d have a secluded spot to enjoy your time without pressure.

the date started just as he expected. you were quiet, your voice barely above a whisper when you responded to him, sticking mostly to “yes” or “no” answers. but kento was nothing if not patient. he asked small, simple questions, easing you into a conversation, and when he mentioned something you loved, your entire demeanor changed. your eyes lit up, your voice grew stronger, and you started talking more, rambling on about your interests. you didn’t even realize how much you’d been speaking until the waitress interrupted to take your order. your face turned crimson as you sulked in embarrassment, worried you’d talked too much. but when you glanced at kento, his gaze was soft, a gentle smile on his lips, he looked utterly captivated.

ordering was its own challenge. you felt embarrassed, too shy to tell the waitress what you wanted. kento noticed your hesitation and, with a subtle nudge of his foot under the table, gave you something to focus on. you nudged him back, and it was enough to calm your nerves, allowing you to place your order. he was thoughtful like that, always finding quiet ways to make you feel at ease.

by the end of the date, you’d grown comfortable enough to start asking him questions. the two of you talked for so long that you didn’t notice the restaurant had emptied. when you finally left, the night felt far from over. kento drove you to the beach, where the two of you walked hand in hand along the shore. the sound of the waves filled the comfortable silence between you, and when you stopped to look at the moonlight reflecting on the water, he turned to you and asked, “may i kiss you?”

your heart raced, but you nodded, and when he kissed you, it was as if you were something fragile, precious. he didn’t want to rush you or make you uncomfortable, but under the glow of the moon, he couldn’t resist the beauty of the moment—or of you.

after that, the two of you continued to grow closer, going on more dates and eventually making it official. over time, you began to come out of your shell, though you still retained your social awkwardness. kento loved every part of you, from the way you stumbled over your words to the way you blushed under his gaze. to him, you were perfect exactly as you were, and he made sure you always knew it.

[omgcatboi]

When I was a kid I was kind of chubby, and in my teenage years I adopted the mentality of ' if I get fit then I guess I'm better than I was ' ( which was internalized fatphobia , an extremely weird kind that was only intended to be directed at myself. Very strange considering I've always loved fat people and been obsessed with how much I love fat people and even have had fat characters even when I was thin. But even if the intention was only directed at myself, inherently, fatphobia affects everyone. But mostly fat people. )

This post puts it into words perfectly. Getting fit didn't make me happy at all, it just gave me a very inflated and untruthful ego. And that ego was used as a safeguard for fat phobia. Even if it isn't intended to affect others again it still affects others. There is just simply no way around It.

It wasn't until I was able to start testosterone and transition medically that I felt comfortable enough in my body to gain weight. And after that, all those thoughts of how amazing it should feel to be fit melted away. Because it was always a should and never a matter of fact. I never actually felt better, I just felt lighter and tougher. I was tough because I felt like I wasn't allowed to be vulnerable in this world.

And that's lame. That's a very lame way of thinking. It's super lame to think that you can't be allowed vulnerability in this world. It is a Injustice to yourself to deny yourself comfort and softness. I used to feel so weird about perceiving myself as fat for the longest time as a teenager. And my adult life it was nothing but longing to be fat. And then I was able to transition.

So if you feel very uncomfortable about being fat, you should really get down to the root of that. Because it could just be that you aren't happy living the life that you are currently living. And if you delve deep into it and take the dive and find out that you actually don't want to be fat in the end that's okay too. But in this world you need to question everything about yourself in order to solidify it, without over questioning.

Challenging your beliefs builds character, and it builds morale. It gives you perspectives you would have never had without challenging your own views even when your views end up being something you still believe in and still agree with after challenging them which is kind of the point sometimes. Sometimes you need to come from a different angle in order to give yourself more context in order to actually explain something.

And the more understanding you have about yourself the better. No matter what.

So why not take the dive? I'm not saying go to the fridge and start stuffing your face, I'm saying question why you feel so uncomfortable with being fat. Question it and allow yourself to feel the emotion so that you can follow it and trace it to its source. Were you bullied? Did you have an abuser that was fat in your childhood that warped your view? Is your parent fat and you just don't want to be like your parent so it translates into fatphobia?

I think if people were more honest with themselves the world would be a much better place.

not to bat at a hornets nest but. people who were super insecure or were bullied about being pudgy and "got better" by becoming thinner or super muscular never actually got rid of that insecurity, they simply became the image they felt they had to live up to

[themetalvirus]

how egghog silver and shadow realize something is wrong and how they run away. 2k words.

while eggman is gathering the chaos emeralds for a nefarious plot, silver enters the room where he's keeping them on his own. he thinks about something amy said about them being able to turn thoughts into power. if they're so powerful, maybe he could use them to see the future himself…

he puts his hands on them and thinks and hopes. he's trained and honed his powers for this, so it HAS to work. and it does – a portal opens. after a moment's hesitation, he takes the two chaos emeralds he used through the portal. he's glad he did, because the portal closes behind him.

suddenly he can't breathe. there's too much smoke and ash in the air, and his sensitive lungs are immediately very unhappy. as he's coughing and hacking, he notices just how barren everything is. how orange and dark. there are no people here, but there seems to be a lot of metal and machines. he wants to know what happened so he can better prevent this from happening, and in turn prevent his birth parents from suffering, prevent the pain of what happened to him from happening to anyone else by any means necessary. he seeks out a library or really anywhere with books. books are more reliable than people anyway. he's in luck and finds an old library with much of its delicate inventory undamaged by the fires, and he gets to work picking out everything that seems relevant in his pk before opening them in a circle around him twilight sparkle style and gets to skimming.

there's a lot of things about daddy. they are not flattering. there are a lot of mentions of him and his brothers. how they were such powerful tools that they were the key to eggman being able to destroy the world. he couldn't have done it without his sons.

silver doesn't take this well. he believes the book is propaganda or lies, but the more he reads, the more affirmations there are that this could be true. he's in denial, but he makes sure to put the books somewhere they won't burn before he heads outside and tries to find material proof that it's lies.

he flies around in a desperate bid to see anything but metal buildings and scrap, but he can't. everything left behind is familiar to him in style and structure. he comes across a large drilling machine that spans the area of a small city and the oil oozing out of it is burning brighter than anything else he's seen, fueling the flames of everything else around it. it has eggman's logo still clearly emblazoned all over it.

his heart drops, he panics, he covers his mouth and hyperventilates and tries to come to grips with this but he can't. the kicker is that he knows eggman has time traveled before and told his sons it was too dangerous and terrible to join him. eggman had to have known this and he didn't care. he knew and he didn't care. silver caused his own abandonment, helped kill his own parents he'll never meet or remember, and his daddy wanted it that way. he can't take it anymore and goes back to... his time? but it isn't his time, is it. his time is on fire and the world is dead. his time is nowhere.

he tries to tell his brothers about what he saw, but shadow is too walled off to talk to and sonic believes what he saw was misleading or a lie. shadow says that silver said himself that the chaos emeralds turns thoughts into power. it could all be in his head.

help isn't here and he can't let dad know what happened. he leaves the next morning after a sleepless night for a "mission", but he's just looking for amy. she's the only person who could possibly believe him and HELP him. his family wouldn't do anything.

this whole time he's in emotional anguish, crying so hard he's thrown up a few times already, and when amy sees him she thinks he's faking it like he always does. until he starts gagging and begging. he would never lay himself this low for a lie. concerned, she takes him to tails, who is having a much harder time believing that this is real and not a trick to find out where his workshop is or take advantage of him. he's a bully and a tyrant and he wouldn't feel safe having silver in his house. amy forces him to accept anyway. amy awkwardly offers silver new clothes, and he accepts. they're ill-fitting and not his style but he's already got his fur matted with tears and rank with Things so he gives up his dignity. tails is unhappy, silver is panicking and throwing up all night while amy tries and fails to comfort him, and eggman becomes deeply suspicious of silver not coming back. especially when he can't track his precious son boy's location. hmm.

he pulls shadow and sonic into his main Scheming Room and say anything silver told them was a lie and a trick. amy was brainwashing him. they need to report any sightings to him immediately and bring him back at all costs. meanwhile silver has told amy about eggman's scheme and that eggman already has a few emeralds. his first order of business to save his future is to steal them back. tails has a conversation with him first. if you want to actually save your future, you'll be completely out of any time. an anomaly. your parents would most likely never exist.

silver thinks this over for a surprisingly short pause in the conversation, looking at his hands. he says yes, i'll accept it. i don't want what happened to me to happen to anyone else. ever.

jumping forward a little bit, the first time silver sees his family again they're surprised to see him out of uniform and actually helping amy. he pleads with them, saying they've got it all wrong, they're destroying the future and the world, but they all say that can't possibly be right. the future must be destroyed because we haven't tried hard enough, haven't gotten rid of amy, or because YOU abandoned us. silver openly cries, and eggman rolls his eyes and says he isn't going to fall for it. silver chokes on his own spit and sputters about how he was abandoned and they don't care, they don't care that everyone was dead and the sky was blotted out with thick smoke, they didn't care that his lungs are permanently damaged just from being in that world as an infant, they don't care.

shadow and sonic are confused and worried and try to step over to comfort him however they can, but eggman says boys. here. now. they can't disobey. they get into the eggmobile and leave him on his own. and that's what he thinks is his final goodbye to his family, home, and previous life. shadow complicates things.

-

shadow is unsettled by silver's distress. privately, he believes that silver wouldn't lie to them and wouldn't leave them over a lie. sonic repeatedly tries to soothe shadow's apparent worry, but it isn't working. despite everything, shadow hopes that things will just go back to normal, silver will realize how foolish he's being, and he'll come back home and everything will be okay.

while eggman is working on getting the chaos emeralds back from amy and friends (hes ultimately unsuccessful this time), he seems very busy and distracted. more than usual. shadow is particularly sensitive to eggman's moods, so it's apparent to him. on a day where he's keeping watch while eggman works on some sensitive files and plotting work, eggman gets up and leaves the room to check something. shadow is left alone with a computer with every single permission possible, including the files on him and his brothers. he wonders what eggman could have lied to him about. he pushes through fear and sits down in a chair much too large for him and opens up the files labeled with his name. there's a lot of files from someone named gerald. design notes labeled to be about 65 years old now. there's police filings, reports, personal journals, scientific studies, newspapers, obituaries... there's a strange fixation on a little girl named maria that died somewhere called "the ark".

she was only 4.

he's never met this girl, so he feels no more than a vague sadness. this whole thing is so... odd. but all these design notes are about him, specifically theories about how he would grow up, and the practical designs seem to all be based around a fetus, and there's some stuff about aliens, and... eggman did not make him. eggman stole him.

right as he realizes the gravity of this, eggman clears his throat in the doorway.

so? what do you think about what you've learned? shadow is frozen as eggman steps closer. does this change anything?

eggman watches closely. shadow is sweating and he swallows and he says no, nothing changed at all. eggman says good, good. you passed my little test. do you think so low of me that i would leave my computer unattended without reason? you silly little thing.

and that's that. shadow doesn't change anything about his routine, but he's deeply troubled by several fundamental truths he knew about himself were wrong. he was lied to for so long and eggman didn't care... that pings another worry of his. silver was right. he knows a lot more than he did a few months ago, but he assumes things will be normal. though he's not able to do his job as well, and seeing silver again makes him scared and want to go with him and say he was right all along, and seeing rouge makes him tempted to leave with her, and he has to shake it all off because he really doesn't want to get in trouble.

it's monthly checkup time, and eggman is being very thorough. a bit more thorough than usual, but it's okay, it makes sense, it's been a while since the last full physical. this is normal. eggman starts sterilizing him, helping him clean himself thoroughly down to the skin, and this is normal and it's fine. eggman puts on a full sterile hazmat suit in blinding white and this is normal, he's put in a hospital gown and plastic booties and that's normal, and eggman is leading him by the shoulders to the back room he's only been in for surgical upgrades and that's normal.

eggman opens the door, still firmly holding his shoulders. the long-term stasis chamber with comfortable cushions is open and waiting like a casket. the screens around it are alight with information, some of which he's seen before. notes on memory extraction.

eggman left the notes up on purpose. this is shadow's final test of loyalty, staring into the abyss. shadow does not pass it. he teleports away, using all his strength to teleport over and over again to somewhere far away, not fussed about where it is in particular as long as it's AWAY.

he ends up in the woods somewhere, dazed and confused and looking for some kind of help, any help at all. tails reports to amy that there's been odd energies somewhere in the deep woods and she should investigate.

she sees shadow in a hospital gown, ekg/telemetry electrodes stuck all over him, fur ruffled and smelling like chemicals. his eyes are somewhere else, and he begs her for help and shelter because he needs to GET. AWAY.

she takes him to tails, tails is unhappy, silver is shocked but can't have a proper reunion with shadow because he seems to be in shock and he isn't talking much. silver is still once again in tears. tails takes shadow to the guest room where silver was staying and he falls asleep on the floor not long after, a spare blanket draped over him. he always did steal sleep whenever he could. when he wakes up, he's disoriented and doesn't believe this is real. he wanders around until he runs into tails, and tails says he's not dreaming. welcome to team amy. the world pops into clear focus for the first time in over a day and he collapses as he finally absorbs what happened to him and how badly this could end. dad was going to kill him. he can never go back.

[adoresia]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ CHAPTER 9 : An eve of confessions

sia here ! : FALALALALA LALALALA guys merry Christmas 🤶!!!! This is meant to be posted on Christmas even just pretend it is cause my mum did this super long prayer so I posted it late. It’s times like these that make me wish I scheduled it sigh, just pretend guys. Most of u guys are in the yhu ess ay anyways (i think…)

Word count : idk I’ll put it tmmrw

Taglist : @fushiguruuzzzz @mystic-megumi @aldebrana @anotherwriternamedclara a @tlissablr @2dmenfr @academiq @vmpky @lizbix @blubearxy @ashlvss @madison777x @rreveurdoll @q2uq2u @temblebee @moonchhu @monster-effer

series masterlist

The rooftop’s quiet felt sacred, the kind of silence that didn’t demand words but left space for them if they came. Snow fell lazily, the flakes catching on Yuji’s lashes and melting against the warmth of his skin. You had almost forgotten about the rest of the world, lost in the fragile connection building between you and him.

But then Yuji glanced down at his phone, his face illuminated by the faint blue glow. His expression shifted, something fleeting passing over his features before he slipped the device back into his pocket.

“Let’s go somewhere else. The others are on their way up here,” he said, his voice soft but cutting through the stillness like the first crack of ice on a frozen lake.

“What? How did they know we were here?” you asked, your breath visible in the chill.

“I don’t know,” he clarified, tilting his head toward the stairwell. “Probably followed me.”

Your chest tightened. The thought of facing them, of letting anyone else intrude on this fragile moment, was unbearable. You opened your mouth to say something, but Yuji was already standing, brushing the snow off his pants.

“C’mon,” he said, holding out his hand. His eyes met yours, steady but laced with something tender. “Let’s get out of here.”

You hesitated, your gaze flitting between his hand and the distant city lights that blurred against the snow. His hand hung in the air, patient, inviting, as if he were offering you more than just an escape—offering you trust, offering you him.

You took it.

His fingers wrapped around yours, solid and grounding. He pulled you up with an ease that sent a small shiver down your spine—not from the cold, but from the way his touch lingered, warm and deliberate.

As the two of you descended the stairs, the night outside seemed to follow, its icy breath curling through the cracks in the stairwell. The building groaned softly, the metal railings cold beneath your hand.

Yuji glanced back at you every so often, his expression unreadable but his pace slow, as if waiting for you to match it. Neither of you spoke, the silence heavy yet comforting, like the weight of a thick blanket on a winter night.

When you reached your dorm, you hesitated at the door, your breath hitching as you fumbled with the keys. The world felt smaller here, the space between you and Yuji charged with something unspoken yet palpable, like the static before a storm.

“You sure it’s okay?” he asked, his voice low and careful, as if afraid to break the moment.

You nodded, pushing the door open and stepping inside. “Better than freezing out here.”

Yuji followed, his presence filling the room in a way that felt both comforting and overwhelming. He glanced around, taking in the mismatched furniture, the pile of blankets on the couch, the faint scent of vanilla that lingered in the air.

“It’s nice to be back here again,” he said, his voice softer now. “Feels like you.”

You snorted, hanging his scarf on a hook near the door. “Might as well move in. It’s really messy, sorry.”

“That’s why it feels like you,” he teased, a grin tugging at his lips

You busied yourself for a moment, tidying up a stack of books on your desk. When you finally turned back to him, he was fidgeting with the strap of his bag, his gaze fixed on the floor.

“I, uh…” He cleared his throat, sitting up straighter. “I brought something. For you.”

“For me?” you echoed, tilting your head.

He nodded, pulling out a package wrapped in slightly wrinkled paper. His hands trembled just a little as he held it out to you, his eyes flickering between yours and the gift.

“Go on,” he urged, his voice softer now.

You took it carefully, your fingers brushing against his. Peeling back the paper, you revealed a scrapbook, its cover simple but sturdy. Your heart skipped as you opened it, the pages unfolding a story you didn’t know he’d been writing.

Photos of the group, snapshots of you caught in unguarded moments, doodles in the margins, and handwritten notes that were so undeniably Yuji. You traced one of the pictures with your finger, a lump forming in your throat.

“Yuji…” Your voice wavered. “You made this?”

He nodded, his cheeks pink, though whether from the cold or his own vulnerability, you couldn’t tell. “I just thought… I don’t know. I wanted you to have something. Something to remind you that you’re not alone. That you’ve got people who care about you. That…” He hesitated, his words hanging in the air like snowflakes that refused to fall.

“That I care about you. More than I’ve ever known how to say. I think—I think I realized how I feel about you while I was making this. That’s probably why I didn’t know how to give it to you before. I didn’t want to mess it up, and, uh, I’m not exactly good at this kind of thing. But you’re… different. You make things feel worth it, even when they’re hard. And I know you’ve been hurt before, but I like you for who you are. All of you. And I—I want to show you that not everyone’s going to let you down.”

His voice cracked, and he ran a hand through his hair, a nervous laugh escaping his lips. “God, that was probably too much, wasn’t it? I just… I need you to know, even if you don’t feel the same, I’m not going anywhere.”

Your chest tightened, emotions swirling like a winter storm. “Yuji…” Your voice cracked, and you set the scrapbook aside, reaching for his hands. “I… I didn’t want to trust anyone for a long time. After everything that’s happened, it felt safer to keep people at a distance. But you’ve shown me that I don’t have to. That not everyone is going to hurt me. And you, Yuji… you’re someone I know I’ll always trust. No matter what.”

His breath hitched, and his eyes met yours, wide and filled with a vulnerability that made your heart ache.

“I like you, too,” you admitted, the words trembling but steady as they left your lips. “More than I even realized until now. You’ve… you’ve made me feel safe again.”

For a moment, the room felt suspended, the weight of your confessions settling between you. His gaze lingered on yours, and you realized you hadn’t looked away. His eyes were warm, steady, pulling you in like the glow of a fire on a bitterly cold night.

“I…” Yuji whispered, his voice low as his fingers brushed against yours, tentative but deliberate. His hand grazed your cheek, his touch featherlight as if afraid you might pull away.

The space between you closed, and your breath caught as his lips hovered a breath away from yours.

But just as the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you, the door slammed open, and a cacophony of voices shattered the moment.

“There you are!” Nobara’s voice rang out, loud and unapologetic. “We’ve been looking everywhere!”

You jerked back, your heart still racing as you turned to see Nobara, Toge, Panda, and Maki spilling into the room.

“We thought you froze to death on the roof,” Maki said, smirking as she crossed her arms.

Yuji shot up from the couch, his face burning as he rubbed the back of his neck. “We, uh… came back here to warm up.”

Toge raised a brow, his gaze darting between the two of you. “Sure you did.”

You quickly closed the scrapbook, clutching it tightly to your chest as you avoided their knowing stares.

But as Yuji glanced at you, his lips curling into a small, nervous smile, you knew the moment wasn’t lost. It was simply waiting, like the last snowflake that hesitated before it fell

[moonlight-joy]

Bound by Fire

Fandom: House of Dragon

Summary: Bound by duty but strengthened by growing trust, your arranged marriage to Jacaerys Velaryon transforms into a partnership built on mutual respect and shared hopes, setting the foundation for a powerful union that promises to shape the future of the realm.

Pairing: Reader/Jacaerys Velaryon

The war had been long and bloody, stretching across the realm and leaving scars that would take generations to heal. Your family, one of the most powerful houses in Westeros, had played a pivotal role in ensuring victory. The cost of that alliance, however, had been a personal one: your hand in marriage to Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, heir to the Iron Throne. Though you had agreed to the arrangement, it had always felt like a distant reality, overshadowed by the immediacy of the battlefield and the weight of your family’s duty. But now, with the war won and Rhaenyra Targaryen crowned Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, the time had come to honor that promise. You were summoned to Dragonstone, where your future awaited.

The sea air was cold as your ship approached Dragonstone, the ancestral seat of House Targaryen. The volcanic island loomed on the horizon, its jagged cliffs and smoking peaks a stark contrast to the lush lands of your home. Dragons circled overhead, their cries echoing across the water, a reminder of the power you were about to marry into. Your heart raced as the ship docked, and you stepped onto the stone pier. The sight of the Targaryen banners fluttering in the wind filled you with a mixture of awe and trepidation. This was no mere union—it was the joining of fire and blood, of two legacies that would shape the realm’s future.

Waiting for you at the foot of the castle steps was Prince Jacaerys Velaryon. You had seen his likeness in portraits, but they did little justice to the man standing before you. His dark hair, streaked faintly with silver, framed a face both handsome and serious. His brown eyes, warm yet guarded, met yours with an intensity that made you catch your breath. “My lady,” he greeted, his voice steady but soft. He stepped forward, offering his hand. “Welcome to Dragonstone.”

You hesitated for only a moment before placing your hand in his. “My prince,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “It is an honor to finally meet you.” His lips quirked into a faint smile, and you felt a flicker of something you hadn’t expected: curiosity. There was kindness in his eyes, tempered by the weight of his responsibilities, and you wondered if he felt the same mixture of hope and uncertainty that you did.

Jacaerys escorted you into the castle, the halls lit by flickering torches and warmed by the ever-present heat of the volcanic rock beneath your feet. The air was heavy with the scent of smoke and salt, a reminder of the dragons that called this place home. “I hope the journey was not too harsh,” he said, breaking the silence as you walked. “It was long,” you admitted, glancing at him, “but it gave me time to reflect on what lies ahead.”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “And what do you see when you reflect?” You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “A future that is both daunting and full of possibility. Our union will shape the realm, for better or worse.” His gaze lingered on you, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to fade. “I believe it will be for the better,” he said quietly. “I know the circumstances of our marriage are not ideal, but I promise to honor and respect the alliance we forge together.” The sincerity in his voice surprised you, and you found yourself softening. “I believe we can build something strong, my prince. Perhaps even something good.” He smiled then, a genuine expression that lit up his face. “Jace,” he corrected. “If we are to share a life, you should call me Jace.” “Jace,” you echoed, the name unfamiliar on your tongue but not unpleasant. “And you may call me whatever you wish.” “Then I shall call you my lady,” he teased gently, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “For now.”

Over the next few days, you and Jace spent more time together, learning about each other in quiet moments stolen from the grandeur of court. He showed you the dragons in the cavernous pit beneath Dragonstone, introducing you to Vermax, his bondmate. The sight of the mighty creature left you awestruck, but Jace’s gentle encouragement gave you the courage to approach. “He can sense your fear,” Jace said, standing close enough that you could feel his warmth. “But he can also sense your strength. Show him that you are unafraid.”

You took a deep breath and stepped closer to the dragon, your heart pounding in your chest. Vermax huffed, a plume of smoke curling from his nostrils, but he did not move away. Slowly, you reached out, your hand brushing against the warm scales of his snout. The bond was brief but electric, a reminder of the power you were marrying into. Jace watched with a proud smile. “You’ve impressed him. That is no small feat.” “Perhaps he sensed my strength,” you replied, meeting Jace’s gaze with a faint smile of your own. “Or perhaps he sensed your stubbornness,” Jace teased, earning a laugh from you. It was in moments like these that you began to see the man beneath the prince—the man who carried the weight of the realm on his shoulders but still found joy in the small, fleeting moments.

On the eve of your wedding, Jace found you standing on the balcony overlooking the sea. The moonlight bathed the water in silver, and the sound of the waves was a soothing balm to your restless thoughts. “Can’t sleep?” he asked, his voice soft as he joined you. You shook your head. “Too much on my mind.” He stood beside you, his presence steady and comforting. “I wanted to thank you,” he said after a moment. “For trusting in this union. For trusting in me.”

“I suppose I had little choice,” you replied lightly, though there was no malice in your tone. He turned to you, his expression earnest. “You had every choice. You could have refused, and no one would have blamed you. But you didn’t. That means something to me.” His words, so genuine and heartfelt, stirred something deep within you. “I trusted in the vision my family had for the future,” you admitted. “But now, I find that I trust in you.” Jace smiled, and for the first time, you saw not just a prince or a warrior, but a partner. “Then let us trust in each other,” he said. “Together, we can build something lasting. Something worth fighting for.” You nodded, your heart lighter than it had been in weeks. “Together,” you agreed.

As the waves crashed below and the dragons roared in the distance, you felt the beginnings of a bond that would shape not just your lives but the fate of the realm. Bound by fire and blood, you and Jace were poised to forge a legacy that would endure for generations to come.

[simpcityy]

The Cost of Protection (Teen! Reader X Parental Figure! Sevika) Pt.1

Summary: After their father abandons them, leaving behind a massive debt, a privileged teenager from Piltover finds themselves in danger. Saved by Sevika, a ruthless woman from Zaun, the teenager quickly learns that their worlds couldn’t be more different. Tension simmers as their contrasting backgrounds—wealth and privilege versus survival and grit—create a rocky start. With no choice but to trust Sevika, the teenager follows her into the dangerous streets of Zaun, where they must both confront the past and navigate a growing, unlikely alliance.

Disclaimer: I do not own Arcane or any of its characters.

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: Use of semi-violence, use of (Y/N), use of you and later on (Y/N), they/them.

Author Notes: Don't you worry, I will finish off My Little Spawn, just wanted to get this one out and see what you guys' thing. Yes, I have fallen into the Sevika rabbit hole.... Thank you for reading this and if you enjoy it, please like and reblog. It helps my creative ideas grow and gain more audiences. Happy Holidays!

The sharp stench of chemicals and rust filled your lungs as you sprinted through Zaun’s labyrinthine streets. Your fancy Piltover boots, polished just days ago, were now caked in grime. A group of angry Zaunites shouted behind you, their heavy footsteps echoing through the alleyways.

You turned a corner and slipped into a narrow crevice between two buildings, your chest heaving as you tried to quiet your breathing. “Think, think!” you whispered to yourself. You were out of your element here, far from the safety of Piltover’s orderly streets. Whatever plan you thought you had when you first ventured down here—it was in shambles now. The sound of footsteps drew closer, and panic surged through you. Desperate, you darted out of your hiding spot and into another alley, only to crash into someone. The force sent you stumbling backward, but the person barely budged. “What’s this?” a low, gravelly voice asked.

You looked up and froze. The woman was towering, her broad shoulders framed by the dim glow of Zaun’s flickering lights. A metal arm, sleek and powerful, hung at her side. Sevika. “I—uh...” you stammered, struggling to find words. “Please. I need help.” Sevika raised an eyebrow, her expression hovering between amusement and annoyance. “Help?” She glanced behind you at the sound of your pursuers. “Looks like you’ve already got company, kid.”

“I didn’t mean to!” you blurted out. “It was a mistake—I got caught up in something, okay? If they catch me, I’m dead.” Her eyes narrowed as she studied you, her lips curling into a half-smile. “Piltover brat in Zaun... You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But guts won’t save you here.”

“Please,” you begged. “I’ll do anything. Just—just don’t let them catch me.”

For a moment, she said nothing, the tension stretching unbearably. Then, with a sigh, she grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into the shadows. “Fine,” she muttered. “But you’d better make yourself useful. If you’re more trouble than you’re worth, you’re on your own.” You nodded quickly, too relieved to question her motives. For now, Sevika was your only shot at surviving this nightmare, and you weren’t about to waste it.

The fight was over in minutes, but it felt like a lifetime. You clung to the corner of a rusted railing, heart pounding as Sevika dismantled the gang that had been chasing you. Her punches were heavy and deliberate, her movements efficient, like she’d done this a hundred times before—and she probably had.

You, on the other hand, could barely stand straight. The acrid stink of chem-fumes burned your nose, and the chaotic neon glow of Zaun’s lights seemed to twist and blur everything. This wasn’t Piltover. There were no clean streets or polished fixtures, no order or logic to the chaos around you.

Sevika loomed over the last of your pursuers, her cybernetic hand gripping his shirt. “Tell your crew if they’re thinking of picking a fight in my streets again, they won’t be walking out next time.” She shoved him hard, and he staggered away, limping after his beaten companions.

She turned to you, brushing her hands off like this was just another Tuesday. “You’re still here? Thought you’d be halfway back to Piltover by now.”

“I don’t know where I am,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper.

“Figures,” Sevika muttered, leaning against a steel post. “Piltover kids like you think you can handle anything. But down here?” She gestured to the jagged skyline, where rusted pipes and crumbling buildings loomed like teeth. “This place eats people like you alive.”

You swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean to end up here. I thought I could... handle it.”

She laughed, a short, sharp bark. “You? Handle Zaun?” She shook her head, smirking. “You’re a walking target. That jacket alone probably cost more than most people make in a year down here.”

Looking down at your once-pristine coat, now stained with grime and torn at the hem, you flushed. She wasn’t wrong. Everything about you screamed Piltover—the clean lines of your clothes, the sheen of your boots, the polished accents of your speech. Here, it all felt like a joke, like armor that didn’t belong in a place where survival meant toughness, not style.

“I know I messed up,” you said, forcing your voice steady. “But... I can’t get back on my own. I don’t even know where the edge of Zaun is. Can you—” You hesitated, then pushed forward. “Can you just walk me to the border? Please?”

She stared at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh, she pushed off the post. “Fine. But only because I don’t feel like scrubbing your blood off the street when someone else finds you.”

“Thank you,” you said quickly, falling into step behind her.

The walk was tense. Every turn she took seemed like a dead end, yet somehow she knew exactly where to go. The streets were cramped, lined with shanties and makeshift shops that sold things you couldn’t name. The people you passed—most of them gaunt and wary—eyed you like you were an alien, and maybe you were.

“You’ve never been out of Piltover, have you?” Sevika asked, glancing at you over her shoulder.

You shook your head. “Not really. I mean... I’ve heard stories about Zaun, but...”

“But you thought it’d be some exciting adventure,” she finished for you, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Let me guess—you thought you’d find some hidden treasure, then waltz back home a hero.”

You winced. That wasn’t far from the truth. “Something like that.”

She snorted. “You don’t get it. Piltover doesn’t care about this place. You lot look down on Zaun from your fancy towers, call us criminals and savages. But down here? We survive because we have to. We don’t get the luxury of screwing up and walking away.”

Her words stung, but you couldn’t deny them. Everything about Zaun—its smell, its people, its chaos—felt raw and alive in a way Piltover never had. Yet it was also terrifying, like stepping into a storm you couldn’t control.

“Is it always this... hard?” you asked, gesturing vaguely at the crumbling buildings and endless machinery.

She gave you a sidelong glance, her expression softening for a fraction of a second. “It’s hard because it has to be. Weakness doesn’t last down here.”

You nodded, unsure what else to say. When the border finally came into view—a rusted gate separating Zaun’s sprawling chaos from the cleaner, towering structures of Piltover—you felt a wave of relief.

“Well,” Sevika said, stopping short. “Here’s your stop. Try not to get yourself killed on your way back to your shiny life.”

“Sevika,” you said, hesitating. “Thanks. Really. I owe you.”

“You owe me nothing,” she said, turning to leave. Then she paused, glancing back. “But next time you think about playing hero in a world you don’t understand? Don’t.”

With that, she disappeared into the shadows, leaving you at the edge of two worlds—one you didn’t belong to, and one you’d taken for granted.

The gates to your family estate stood ajar, their intricate ironwork swaying gently in the breeze. It should have been comforting to be back in Piltover’s pristine streets, surrounded by order and wealth, but unease prickled at your skin. Something was wrong.

You stepped through the gates, the familiar crunch of gravel under your boots echoing in the unnaturally silent courtyard. The grand fountain, usually a cascade of sparkling water, was dry. The windows of the house, which should have been glowing with warm light, were dark and lifeless.

Your footsteps faltered as you approached the door. “Garet? Miss Lila?” you called out, your voice thin in the stillness. No answer came.

Pushing open the door, you stepped inside. The house smelled faintly of dust, as if it had been days since anyone had been there to tend to it. Your eyes scanned the darkened hallway, the absence of familiar faces sending a chill down your spine.

Then, from the drawing room, a voice cut through the silence. “Welcome home, little one.”

You froze. That voice wasn’t familiar. It was smooth and calculated, tinged with a menace that made your stomach drop.

Turning slowly, you saw a man lounging in one of your father’s high-backed chairs, his legs crossed casually. He was dressed in a sharp, tailored suit that looked out of place in the disarray around him. A glass of wine swirled lazily in his hand, catching the faint light from the dying embers in the hearth.

“Who are you?” you asked, your voice trembling despite your effort to sound firm.

The man raised an eyebrow, his smile chilling. “A friend of your father’s. Or rather, his creditor. He owes me quite a lot.”

You swallowed hard. “Where is he? Where’s my father?”

The man’s smile widened, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Ah, yes. Your dear father. It seems he’s chosen to leave you in his place. He fled days ago, leaving behind his debts... and you.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “He left?”

“Indeed,” the man said, leaning forward slightly. “He thought he could outrun his obligations, but I’m a patient man. When he disappeared, I decided to wait. And now, here you are. Convenient, don’t you think?”

Your mind raced, trying to process the betrayal. Your father had always been distant, consumed by his business dealings and high society life, but you never imagined he would abandon you like this.

“I don’t have anything to do with this!” you said, your voice cracking.

The man’s gaze hardened, the false warmth dropping from his expression. “Oh, but you do. Your family’s wealth, your lavish lifestyle—it’s all built on the promises your father made. Promises he failed to keep.” He stood, and you instinctively took a step back.

“I—I don’t have any money,” you stammered.

“No,” he agreed, his smile returning, sharper now. “But you’re worth something. Perhaps as collateral. Perhaps as leverage. Your father will turn up eventually, and when he does, he’ll find you under my care.”

The air seemed to thicken, your breaths coming faster as you backed toward the door. “I won’t go with you,” you said, though the words sounded weak even to your own ears.

“Let’s not be dramatic,” the man said, his tone smooth but with an edge of steel. “This can go one of two ways: you come quietly, or I make a scene. Either way, you’re coming with me.”

You glanced at the open door behind you, calculating your chances of escape. The streets of Piltover might be orderly, but they weren’t safe—not for someone like you, not anymore. Yet staying here felt like a death sentence of another kind.

Your father had abandoned you to pay his debts, leaving you in a world you barely understood. But you weren’t about to let yourself become another piece of his collateral.

[amethystspaceprince]

The dragon prince thoughts

They couldn’t kill Aaravos because he will just return in 7 years (minus as many arch dragons to stop him) and trapping him just creates the same problem (only perhaps a little more likely to be permanent or last longer but there’s no way Claudia would let him stay trapped). So the only real solution is to stop him from wanting to do what he’s doing. And only Claudia could do it since only she had that relationship with him.

I think the better ending for The Dragon Prince would be Claudia being able to make Aaravos see that this isn’t what Leola would want. And since he sees Claudia as his daughter she is the only one who would be able to. I would have liked to see her plant the seeds of doubt in his plan throughout the season. Asking him if this is what Leola would want. For an example. And by the end she convinces him and herself that this path is not one either of them want to go down.

Aaravos and Claudia end up going their own way together to live away from the humans. As father and daughter. She gets a father again and gets to have her own life and begin recovery from her own trauma. Aaravos gets a daughter and learns to get peace from his trauma. The world returns to peace.

Zym has his mother who will raise him and teach him to be his own archdragon. Ezran builds the new city. Peace returns. And so on

Aaravos’ actions are irredeemable and inexcusable. There was no excuse to let innocent people and beings suffer because of the choice of the cosmic cops. Whatever they were called. His actions cause suffering on innocents and at this point he will easily kill anyone who gets in his way without remorse. He is evil. However, besides jailing him which has been attempted before and failed, the only real solution is to stop him from wanting to do his plans. That way he won’t return and start the process up again. Even though they’ll be prepared next time, it would be better for it to not happen at all. There’s no guarantee of winning each time.

And not because he deserves to not be punished. Aaravos does need some form of punishment but being so powerful and seemingly unstoppable this is the only thing you can really do. I suppose he can be punished after deciding to not go through with the plans. But ending the cycle of revenge is part of dragon prince’s themes so it would be fitting that instead of getting revenge on Aaravos and continuing the cycle he is let to live on.

[bubblesthemonsterartist]

I can't help but wonder if his own voice was echoing in his head during the first scene of s1

[olberic]

thinking about what we lost when megatron stopped turning into a gun. like if you were made to be a weapon only aimed by other people would you not crave bodily autonomy. if you were made to be a show of force would you not find it hard to resist what you are. if you were made to be a pistol would you not miss being held.

[puppyeared]

Atla live action 😐

[hpdfag]

i need to ramble hold on. spawns in a cut so that people dont get blasted by unfiltered posting on their dash. i feel the need to disclaim that im only like 50% lucid right now so this might be disorganized or complete word salad i can't really tell right now

i love him so much it feels like it's consuming me from the inside out. i don't want to do anything that isn't for him. the only reason i haven't quit my job is because i want to make him proud of me. even playing games makes me guilty, because i know it's not with him. i married harvey in stardew. i ate the stardrop for getting 12 hearts as i kissed him. the taste reminded me of hinata. it's a strange irony.

this false body feels like it's trapping me, keeping me from achieving my true metamorphosis. there are streetlights glimmering in the distance. as i try to move towards them they always fade away. the morning will come in 7 hours and 43 minutes and the sun will rise and it won't blind me awake. i'm not reverent enough.

i should pray. not to jesus, not to any other false prophet. i should pray to Him. maybe that will bring me salvation? maybe that will free me from this hell? maybe it happened because i was unworthy of being one of his trusted apostles. if i was as holy as he was it would have been different, i would still have been beneath him but i would have served my divine purpose as his servant.

but that's not important. i dont think. im jor sure. i hate it. i hate Him. i feel like i should Worship him. there's a certain something i still havent fixed a glitch in my code i need ocean breeze summer sun beach sand shining brilliance he's perfect i need him i need warm sun and dry land i need to be with him on the floor i need to hold him i need need need need need need need.

more than air more than food more than clean clothes more than water more than anything else more than i need this terrible mortal life i need to become worthy for him of his love of his care of his touch i wont deny that i selfishly want him to hold me and touch me even though im unworthy even though im no more than dirt beneath him i desire him so deeply

[vampiresuns]

having a tav that's a Lloth-sworn life domain cleric of a noble background who before getting yeeted into the nautiloid was a sacrificial priestess (gn) during one of the cycles of Drow society and had their own altar and temple under their care, means Solune would have the most insane however many minutes they spent interacting with Minthara and I am obsessed about it. As far as I'm conceptualising it, I'm thinking of Lloth as extremely Ungoliant-like. Goddess of hunger, goddess of wanting and consumption, goddess of excess and exuberance, goddess who unmasked the hypocritical gods of starvation, guilt and purity into a society that cherishes a certain kind of clarity about the double standard they impose. For Drow are evil for their wars and their wanting and their taking, but those other people with their other gods kill, warmonger and enslave with no regard and no self-awareness, calling the indignation about receiving scraps from a bunch of silent, unrepentant gods, "guilt and shame". There is violence in denial and her Children will not suffer it.

In the season of Life, they do not sacrifice the unwilling. It is taboo. The only sacrifice that matters is the desire to be devoured and destroyed by the things you love the most.

And Solune sees Minthara and is like fucking finally, someone rational enough to get what I'm going through, that they're losing their mind that their life was taken from them and if they become this other thing, if they transform, if they do not remain Luxe Solune Mizzmyrra, Life Knife of Lloth, they're never going to be able to be reintegrated into that life. They will die away from home, from their temple, from their (first) spouse, from their mother and their siblings and there won't be the day when they too succumb to the knife, when it is time, when the day they no longer feel hunger comes.

And then the parasite gives them an in into Minthara thinking she was raised from the darkness into a FALSE GOD? One thing you do not do is steal from Lady Lloth, and oh my god, there could've been a time, a chance that existed only in ignorance, of Solune lending a hand to Minthara but this to them is unforgivable because Solune is genuinely a good friend to their friends, but if you keep peeking into whatever mindset nobility and religious authority has given them it's like realising your friend is a cesspool of "what the actual and everliving fuck", and when the knife of the morningstar priestess comes down on Minthara it won't be with love but with absolute rage, grief and disgust and I will be thinking about this for evermore. Thanks, I'm not well

[forcedhesitation]

oh? something mizora said actually being worth listening to??

this is an interesting bit of foreshadowing to ansur being dead/wyll being the true "heart of the gate!"

[medicinemane]

One issue I have is there's a whole lot of things where it's like "I'm actually nearly on your side, I'm very sympathetic to this, I just need one or two issues addressed and then I'd be with you on this... you just have to kinda... walk me through how this thing that feels like a kinda big problem isn't a problem"

And pretty much always it's just kinda like "oh, well it's not a problem, so don't worry about it"

...mhh... yeah... but I need some actual proof. I want to trust you, but I need something that actually deals with it, not to just basically be told to have faith... I have no faith, I'm a faithless person

And it's such a shame cause... instead of being able to work along side people I tend to hover off to the side trying to support it in my own small ineffective ways cause... I just have serious issues no one's ever bothered to address

Just sucks, you know?

[captain-ultimat-doggo]

Humans entering space and realizing we are so small. We are mice compared to these giant races with their advanced machinery and technologies and experiences beyond us- except that we're humans. And our engineers dive into the new tech and once we learn the principles we also soon realize how Inefficient everything is. Their "microchips" are the size of cars, their storage drives are basically buildings, and they somehow store less data than ours. So, human companies take advantage, and tech starts rolling out. Massive and there's a lot of wasted space so that it can be managed with larger hands/pincers/claws/tentacles, but also so much more efficient than anything the galaxy has seen before.

Human technicians start hopping ships and upkeeping the general maintenance, the stuff that most aliens put off or don't notice because they never access the crevices of their ships. As human companies become more popular and lead the tech world in everything from warp cores to game stations ("it's so compact! How are the graphics so good?" Says a 60' tall grimbleback, holding a new VR headset that has all of its components included because it's so BIG by our tech standards), soon many things have accessibility ports for humans to be able to use as well. This means that these shiprats hoping ship to ship cause such a huge improvement in everything running smoothly, and there's a huge downtick in pests on ships because those "pests" are not only big enough and aggressive enough to bite a pitbull or a person in half, they're invasive to so many planets and humans hate nothing more than dog killing planet overrunning monsters.

All the while, from the Aliens perspective, humans are an elusive race that don't fraternize much with them. You almost never see a human as most places aren't exactly safe for the little things to run around in. They do export so much stuff though, and the custodial staff at the Central Galactic Outpost insists that there's more humans around than any other race if you just know where to look.

And sure it's somewhat known that some of the little daredevils hop ships and help out in exchange for room and board, usually without permission, but that can't be that common, can it?

Maybe your ship is running better this cycle ever since you stopped at the last station, that just means that tuneup was better than you thought. And maybe for some reason that program you were working on last night is finished when you wake up, but you're so tired maybe you finished it before you passed out. Somehow that faulty light in the galley has fixed itself as well, which is odd, but maybe the Engineer finally got to it. You'd know if there was someone else on your ship.

Right?

... You leave a little bowl of berries out as a thank you, just in case. You're not sure what humans like but you've heard they have a sweet tooth.