#this is going to go down in the history books

[nhzmlplths]

WOAH WOAH WOAH THIS IS RTHE FIRST THING ON MY DASH AND I HAVENT EVEM FOUND THE BOOK YET OMGS BRO (i just finished the secret history though, i was about to go down that rabbit hole on tumblr)

chapter fifteen really has it all

[neuvitopia]

➠ 𓈒 𝄞ׅ ֯ corporate weapon - zayne | 黎深 ・ 🍀 ⌯

synopsis ;; you’re a resident at akso hospital, chasing your corporate medicine dreams and accidentally tempt your superior, dr zayne :p, a little bit of a homage to my corporate baddie desires, help.

cw ;; NSFW, fem reader, kind of an open ending (sorry), lower case intended, girl failure reader(?) (same), panty stealing, still kind of new to this #sorry, ignore any silly mistakes, no protection(wrap it plz), zayne and reader have a bit of history, porn with some plot, office sex, semi public(?) (just incase), fem pet name, mention of aphrodisiacs

. . . wc → 3.4k

you were in the midst of your second year of residency at akso hospital, to say you were excited was an understatement.

you spent your early twenties dedicated to working for your bachelors and through the tears med school brought you.

working through your residency was a reflection of your hard work and brought you closer to your dreams of becoming an operations director. to say you were proud was an understatement.

fortunately for you, you were soon yanked from the miserable memories of your “golden years” as dusty old medical books and endless hours in labs weren’t exactly your fondest memories.

you’re knee deep in work once more, with blood tests and treatment plans from hundreds of patients flooding your tiny desk. the constant stimulation and stream of work made you wonder, for a moment, why you chose this career path.

in the midst of it all, you were positive that being a florist was your true calling.

an exhausted sigh escapes you as the day finally comes to an end. your stomach rumbles, and your bones feel achey, desperate for a good stretch.

running an equally exhausted hand down your face, you pack up the basics and contemplate how the rest of your night will go. the sweet thought of a nice bath and a cup... or five of wine soothe your sleepy mind.

your delusions (and exhausted heart) are soon shattered into tiny pieces when your tired eyes meet the ones of your superior standing as straight as a pencil at the opening of your office door.

you knew exactly what was going to happen next. overtime.

maybe being a psychic was your true calling.

you set your heavy bag down and accept defeat, your butt meeting the hard seat, once more.

"i assume you knew what was coming," zayne was the first to break the silence, his words laced with a edge of amusement.

you shrug and try your best to get comfortable in your chair once more, your eyes scanning the new adjustment treatments zayne places on your desk.

"if you listen hard enough, you can hear the pieces of my heart falling to the floor" you respond quietly, hoping to avoid a migraine from the sheer amount of time you've spent in this hospital today, the lingering smell of antiseptic not helping one bit.

he met your attempt at a joke with nothing but amused silence, his arms crossing themselves over his chest he speaks again.

“just a few more things to get done, and then you can go," he reassures you. the words sending your eyes flying across the sheets of paper, the shattered remnants of your plans for the night slowly begin to reassemble.

you offer him the extra chair in your office and zayne decides to be merciful and assists you with the work, causing your heart to soar with joy. if this continues at the current pace, you might even have enough time to squeeze in an extra episode of that drama you've been binging after work.

as you work through the mountains of paperwork, zayne engages in small conversations with you—unaware that his eyes drift to you in quiet indulgence.

the two of you gradually move away from your mahogany desk, settling in front of each other as lighthearted banter and serious discussion take turns.

but of course, all good things have their downsides and suddenly, your stomach makes an embarrassingly loud noise, reminding both you and zayne of its presence.

after a short, nervous laugh, you quickly confess to him,

“i'm sorry, I didn't eat much today." you’re surprised at the fact that he didn’t scold you for your carelessness, something something, nourishing your body is important.

zayne simply nods and takes a moment to think, leaving a brief moment of awkward silence between you two, your eyes darting from his handsome face to the walls of your office. the low lighting casting shadows around the two of you.

"i believe the cafeteria is still open," he says, presenting the idea that you should grab something to eat.

“and if you're not feeling resentful for making you stay, could you grab something for me as well?" the question leaves you kind of flustered -- how could the man who gave you a chance to kickstart your career think you would hold resentment towards him for making you do your job?

you quickly reassure him that it's no problem, and you make your way down to the cafeteria.

the sounds of your flats bounce off of the sleek walls and floors, marking your every step in the now semi-empty building. you soon make your way into the cold cafeteria, goosebumps emerging on your skin as cool air kisses your flesh.

you take a moment to scan the cafeteria, your eyes fall on the odd remnants of food left behind. you settle for a box of pocky, a couple of servings of sushi and, drinks for you and your superior to share, which you struggle to carry in your arms all at once in.

you practically run to the elevator, eager to return to the comfortable uncomfortable solace of your office. 

upon entering, you practically drop the food and drinks on your desk, the condensation from the drinks transferring to the smooth surface. you let out a small huff as the weight from your arms is finally gone.

"i brought back the best options, I promise," you tell him, making eye contact with him as you do. he in return sends a weak smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes and offers,

"I trust your word."

you nod back to him, returning a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes either, and push a serving of packaged sushi his way.

one of his eyebrows shoots up as he examines the item before him, your focus now shifted towards the food hitting your tongue as you nibble on some pocky. you're too busy with the food in your mouth that you miss his puzzled expression and gaze now shifted to you.

when his silence goes on too long for comfort, you finally glance up at him, only to freeze at the intense gaze he returns. zayne breaks the silence with a low, serious tone of voice.

"you are aware that this is an aphrodisiac, right?"

his words leave you dumbstruck, your brain struggling to process if it's a joke or not. you manage a small, half hearted laugh, an amused huff falling from your lips as you take a sip of your drink.

"ah well, you know, i'm just setting the mood, doctor zayne” you awkwardly stammer out, embarrassment nipping at your skin.

you’d become to occupied with your abashment that you’d forgotten about the treat in the corner of your lips.

before you can wallow any further in your self consciousness, you feel your office chair move, and you watch—frozen, as zayne’s dress shoe is placed on one of the rolling feet.

he pulls you closer with all the strength in his leg. the sudden movement jerks you forward and as zayne brings you closer with the help of his foot the feeling of the quiet breaths from his nose hit your skin.

your eyes are locked on to his, your voice barely above a whisper as you ask

“what are you doing?" the moment hangs heavy in the air, both of you motionless.

it feels like an eternity has passed before he finally speaks.

"i’m setting the mood," he mocks.

of course your words from before come back to bite you in the ass. he takes small a bite out of the neglected pocky that hangs out of your mouth. you're stunned, wide eyed and… aroused?

the moment hangs in the air, the two of you practically close enough to feel the warmth of each other's skin. your heart pounds in your chest, unsure of how to feel in this moment or what to do next.

"what exactly where you planning?" he questions, his tone playful but with an underlying seriousness that you can't seem to shake. your brain at this point is too fried to even acknowledge him.

"for someone so bent on setting the mood you've sure gone quiet." he teases you some more and you continue to try and find your words again.

you shake your head lightly, too afraid to make any extreme movements in fear of landing yourself in another embarrassing situation.

"i wasn't planning anything," you finally whisper, the words ghosted the skin of his face. the sound of your own heart beating practically deafens you as you reply to him.

the silence drags on, and your eyes remain locked on zayne’s, the seconds ticking by felt like hours. you’d soon notice that he leaned back into the extra seat you had offered to him, his eyes still trained on you.

as he puts space between you two, an ache you weren't even aware was there grew and twisted inside of you. your breathing becomes less labored as you try to stabilize yourself.

"the sushi's gonna go bad," you stammer out in a weak attempt to advocate for the abandoned food, and hopefully shake off the excitement buzzing in your body.

zayne shakes his head, his reply cuts through you like a knife.

"i don't care about the sushi," his words strike a chord in you that you don’t dare name.

your reply is silence and you continue to stare at him. you feel a lump form in your throat. was your skirt always this tight?

you want to say something, anything to break the tension, but the words were stuck in your throat, and you find yourself paralyzed. the only sound you register is your racing pulse, the blood threatening to burst through your skin.

the silence is deafening when zayne stands up to his full height, choosing to approach you properly this time. you decide to follow his lead not knowing exactly where this was heading.

it wouldn’t hurt to find out.

your heart skips a beat as he moves closer, one of his hands resting on your waist.

your blouse was rendered useless, it felt like you both were directly skin to skin. you were never buying this brand ever again.

but god, you swear you could have moaned right then and there.

you knew it would be way too embarrassing, so you instead watch his face, your eyes fixed on his as his hand roams your torso.

“have you changed your mind about making plans with me?" his question is raspy and low, fueling the fire in the pit of your stomach. you choose to nod softly, your mouth far too dry to speak to him properly.

“use your words." he commands just as his hand leaves your body, leaving you warm and achey all over.

“i won't touch you again unless you use your words."

you swallow the knot in your throat, breathing in as you attempt to calm yourself.

"yes. yes, i’ve changed my mind..." you hear a voice trail off, soon registering the fact that it was yours.

zayne doesn't give you any time to think about what you've said and puts his hands on you again, his hands shamelessly removing your short white lab coat, untucking your dress shirt from your skirt. he lets a hand meet your heated skin. he nuzzles his nose into the side of your neck as he kneads the skin of your torso, his fingers teasingly brushing past your bra.

"you drive me mad” he rasps, desperation dropping from every word. “you look so pretty walking around like this every day," he murmurs into your soft flesh. the low resonance of his voice sending a tremor down your spine.

zayne’s hand continues to roam your torso and you feel your entire body react to his touch. the feeling of his skin against your own is beyond electrifying.

his free hand goes to cup at the flesh of your ass, a groan falling from his lips as he feels you up like a starved man.

"i'm going to take care of you," he whispers into your skin again. your hands grasp handfuls of zayne’s expensive lab coat, the fabric soft beneath your fingers. a soft whimper escapes your lips as he continues to touch your body.

"seems like you enjoyed that” zayne states cheekily before peppering kisses at the base of your neck, your non existent resolve snapping at that moment and you melt into his arms once and for all.

zayne mutters your name, and you hum in response. your eyes close as you continue to grip onto his coat to keep you stable, relishing in the warm lipped kisses he places on your skin.

"i’m not all that patient; I'm sorry." he rasps as he pulls his head from the crook of your neck, his eyes meeting yours once again.

the excitement pooling in your underwear doubles. his face held the most lustful look you've ever seen in your almost three decades of living.

you nod at him, and he contentedly accepts your response this time around. his lips finally meet yours, and he groans against you, a long, muffled moan falling from yours. his tongue darts into your mouth as you voice your pleasure.

he quickly guides you back to your desk, pushing away all the paperwork you two abandoned how long ago?

he assists you in sitting on the now empty desk, his hand snaking its way up your skirt, teasing your skin through your oh-so-thin panties. his nimble fingers slither their way down to your covered slit, your arousal soon transferring to the pads of his fingers, a soft hum of approval from zayne is drowned out by your lips.

you pull away slightly and voice your approval as he continues to tease you through your panties.

soon enough though, slight frustration wells in your chest at his airy touches.

"i thought you said you weren't all that patient?" you utter in between the heated collision of your lips.

a soft chuckle bubbles in his chest at your obvious impatience, the sound of his voice causes a soft pout to form on your lips.

"i'm sorry, pretty girl." he breathes.

your reply is immediate. "you can make it up to me." you’re unsure where you got this boldness as the confidence you portray is definitely not your own.

“how about you lift that skirt up for me?" was his response, you quickly oblige and lift the side of your skirt as he continues to push his tongue into your mouth. he graciously assists you and lifts the other side of your skirt for you.

he runs a hand up and down the soft, supple skin of your thigh and impatiently pulls your panties down, breaking the kiss to guide your feet through the holes. the underwear is then quickly pocketed and you watch dumbfounded as he steals your property.

protest was heavy on your tongue, soon to be spat at him, but the swift finger collecting the arousal that pooled at your folds soon frees your mind of his perverted theft.

a string of curses leaves your lips as he uses the slick from your warmth to rub soft circles onto your aching clit, your hand grips at his wrist to avoid sudden removal of the pleasure.

your sporadic whimpers soon turning into full blown moans as he pushes a couple of his deft fingers into you. your heart threatens to burst out of your chest from the way his fingers alone stretch you.

he groans against your lips once more as your cunt practically sucks his fingers in, the dirty sounds you produce making the experience all the more erotic.

"on your back." zayne’s simple words cut through your pleasured sounds and cause your eyes to fly open to meet his lustful gaze once more. he removes his fingers from inside of you and you soon comply. you lean onto your back, the cold surface of your desk cooling the lust induced fire that was the surface of your skin.

using your elbows to help keep yourself propped up, you watch as zayne unzips and drops his expensive dress pants, and listen to him groan with the release of pressure on his bulge.

zayne soon pulls himself out giving you a perfect view of what you're dealing with. your cunt practically drools at the sight of him, your thighs squish together almost instinctively as zayne rubs himself for you.

“zayne…” you sounded pathetic as you quietly lust over the sight of him fucking himself but you don’t care. the wetness of your cunt and the excitement in your body washed away any feeling of shame. you greedily drink in the scene infront of you, hands itching to touch yourself to him.

he groans in response as he continues to touch himself to the sight of you. precum leaks from his red angry red tip, desperate to have a taste of you.

with impatience bubbling, zayne finally spreads your legs and settles his tip at your entrance, rubbing himself against the wetness he was responsible for.

a strangled moan leaves him as he teases the both of you.

“you’re so warm…” he mutters as he tortures your heat. you lock your legs around his hips, egging him to bottom out inside of you already. it seems as though he gets the message and begins to push himself inside of you the stretch has you throwing your head back and your spine arching.

the ache you felt was far from relieved, you needed more. you buck your hips into zayne, the slow pace he set paining you.

“not so fast.” he’d endured months of agony and pure pining, did you really think he’d give you what you wanted that easily?

he uses a slim to finger torment you even further. he uses it to tease your swollen clit, slip it inside your already stuffed full cunt, and he uses it to tickle the inside of your trembling thighs. punishing you, making you feel only a fraction of the agony he felt.

“do you know how long I’ve waited to do this?” he questions, frustration almost tangible, but the hushed sounds of your throbbing cunt being fucked into—rendered you speechless and you were only able to meekly shake your head.

you watched where the two of you met through half lidded eyes, your slack jaw threatening to let saliva escape. a hand under your chin soon forces your eyes away from the provocative show. dark eyes meeting yours.

“then i’ll show you.” his words were punctuated by an uncharacteristically rough thrust that forced a feeble cry out of you.

“akso’s pretty little intern underneath me like this…” the combination of the snap of his hips and the seductive tone of his voice manage to coax even more cute sounds from you.

“zayne..” you pant with need“i need it— fuck, please” you were babbling nonsensically, your vision was blurry with tears threatening to fall from your eyes. the new tempo he set had the volume of your voice rising steadily it has you reaching for something, anything to grip onto.

you catch him by surprise as one of your hands tangles itself his dark hair, a welcome addition to the erotic scene. he groans softly and hastens his thrusts, your grip egging him on further.

your desk shook underneath the two of you as he continues to gain speed but zayne soon slows himself down, much to your disdain, and muffles your sweet hums with a free hand.

“we can’t be too loud” he whispers above you, cock twitching in your heat as he forces himself to halt his movements.

he continues, “people might still be roaming the halls.”

you didn’t like this. at all. “but i was so close” you argue, “i’m sure they won’t hear us. i’ll be quiet” you clench around him in hopes to tempt him.

zayne simply shakes his head and sends you an amused smile, “you can’t seem to keep quiet when I speed up, so, we’ll just have to find a way for you to cum while i go at a more leisure pace.”

you could cry, you really could. the idea of being kept on the verge of an orgasm from him dragging himself slowly against your walls made you wetter than you liked to admit, but unhappy nonetheless.

“i don’t think i can do it” you whisper, arousal prominent in your voice.

zayne uses a hand to rest one of your smooth legs on one of his broad shoulders, taking another look at your soaked heat, before he speaks again, “let’s put that to the test”

❤︎ ♬ 𓂂 © 2025 neuvitopia ⋆𝜗℘݁♬

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 149 (A New Pet - And a New Landgraab Problem?)

Captain Whitaker made himself right at home at the Gordon house on Sable Square. When Lavender returned from daycare on his first day as a reanimated dog, the Captain was thrilled to meet the energetic toddler who loved pets.

He also celebrated discovery of the chicken coop in the backyard, and he loved to chase the cats. It had been a while since Heather and Conrad needed to train bad habits out of a new pet, but they were happy to do it, because Captain Whitaker fit their family like a glove.

Heather's sister, Hazel, dropped by for breakfast one morning, on her way to help Alexander Goth put together his application to run for mayor.

"It's a long process and the town hasn't had an election in close to forty years, but Alex has a lot of really great ideas to make the Bay even better," Hazel said. "I really believe in him, and he needs more help with his campaign now that he's doing midnight feedings with baby Carina."

At the mention of Alex and Lydia Goth's second child, newborn Carina, Heather rubbed her belly as she felt her own baby kick. "I'd love to see this town running smoothly with a real mayor at the helm. The water shut-offs we've had to deal with lately make it so much harder to get the kids bathed, and the dogs, let alone us!"

"I hate to sound like Dad, but get a dew catcher. It rains enough on the coast you could collect enough water to last for weeks!"

"What's a dew catcher?" wondered Lavender.

"It stores water for when there's drought or the pipes freeze in winter. It's kind of like recycling the rain," Hazel explained, and Lavender nodded along thoughtfully.

"What's recyclig?"

"It's when you take something and use it again for something else, rather than getting something new, because it's better for the environment. Like new toys. If you bought a used toy, it would be recycled, as opposed to a new toy from a store."

"Used toys are better for the envi-erment?"

Hazel nodded. "Yeah, because new production uses a carbon footprint, and you want that carbon footprint to be as small as possible to help the planet."

Heather glanced pleadingly at Hazel, launching into one of her public policy talks with a four-year-old. "Why don't you get your Aunt Hazel to read you a story before she goes to work?"

Lavender smiled, dragging Hazel to the living room and picking out a book. "Can you do the voices again, too?"

"Of course, Lava. I can't read you a story without doing the voices!"

"No you can't!"

Lavender wasn't the only one in the household interested in books. Ash had picked up as many books on time travel from the library as he could, and he'd barely put them down since. If he was supposed to invent time travel, he had to understand it first.

Heather and Conrad were wary of what he was learning, but they'd encouraged Felix and Lilith to pursue it before they knew what Marco had said. Ash promised to leave the actual time travel to the adults, so they allowed him to study books like Theoretical Electronics and A History of Time Travel to offer assistance to Felix and Lilith - but only if they needed it.

Conrad accompanied him to the local library to return a few books he'd finished and check out a few more, bringing the dogs to run around. They sat in bright inflatable chairs that seemed out of place in the old wooden building. But the local historian and librarian, Gunther Lynx-Munch, said they'd been dropped off by an anonymous donor and he didn't want them to go to waste.

As he thumbed through the books on the shelves, Conrad turned to his stepson. "Are you really interested in all this time travel stuff?"

Ash shrugged. "Felix and Lilith say Emit's nice. What if changing the future changes him, too? I don't want to change the future too much, but I don't want to be feared. If I do help Felix and Lilith, I don't mind people not knowing I did it."

That night, Heather prepped fruit for Ash's school lunch while Conrad was bent over the sink to repair the plumbing. "Malcolm called again," she groused. "He's so interested in Ash's counseling sessions all of a sudden."

"I think this time travel and seeing ghosts stuff freaks Malcolm out a bit."

"He doesn't even think it's real!" She closed the fridge door with a heavy thud to put away the sliced fruit. "I think he's plotting something. With his mother."

Conrad finished with the plumbing and dried his hands, wrapping his arms around her and cradling her stomach. "Like what?"

"He's acting like I can't take care of our son, as if he wasn't flirting with Miko instead of watching Ash when he was taken. He actually said 'It can't be easy to move around that small house with all those animals.' They have a dog!"

"Don't get upset," he pleaded gently. "Has Malcolm ever been worth it?"

She forced herself to breathe, letting herself fall into his embrace. "I love you. I just worry about Ash all the time lately."

"I love you, too. Let's get some sleep; the baby needs it. We can worry about everything again in the morning."

Despite her fear and worry, the days were busy and long. Pregnant Heather was easily fatigued, and she soon fell asleep in Conrad's arms. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

[seriousbrat]

how can lily be a good person if she married a bully?

I'm going to break this down because it does legitimately seem to be an issue for so many people. I received quite a few asks about this a few days ago so I'm just going to address it generally here. Apologies for the length of this, I tried to cover everything I could think of. Let's get two things out of the way first:

Firstly, if you truly believe James was an abuser, and you're seriously asking how a woman could ever marry an abusive man, this is indicative of a fundamental lack of understanding about how abuse works. This is victim-blaming rhetoric. Abusers are predatory, manipulative, and often extremely charming, and they have a specific methodology for ensnaring their victims. I highly recommend Lundy Bancroft's book Why Does He Do That for further reading on how abuse works. The reality is that women marry abusive men all the time, and it doesn't make them bad people. If you believe otherwise we simply have nothing to talk about here.

Second, the question of whether or not James ACTUALLY changed his behaviour is irrelevant here, so I'm not going to directly address it either way. The main thing is that Lily BELIEVED that he had changed, whether or not he actually did, and we know this from Harry's conversation with Remus and Sirius. We also know she wasn't aware of the full extent of the bullying, as she didn't know the details about the prank.

For the purposes of this I'm going to adopt the perspective that James never changed, had 0 character development, and was secretly a terrible person the whole time. To be clear this isn't what I believe-- but I think it's helpful to start from a similar place.

Onto the main points:

An overly forgiving nature can be a flaw, but it doesn't make someone a bad person.

Nor does it make them selfish. Even if I concede that James was irredeemably evil as a person, the fact that Lily believed him to be better than he was, even if she was wrong, makes her at worst naive, not selfish. In fact, I'd argue that it's a sign of empathising with someone too much, which is sort of the opposite of selfishness. We know that Lily had an overly-forgiving nature, because she demonstrates that with Severus when she's willing to overlook his associations with the worst people of all time. And as we know from the fact that her friends were openly critical of it, and that she suffered as a result of it, her friendship with Sev was hardly 'convenient' for her. That she forgave him and overlooked his behaviour, and defended him, despite the fact that it was actively inconvenient for her, indicates empathy (and probably too much of it) not selfishness. Being overly forgiving is an established character trait of Lily's, as she tells us she "made excuses for [Sev] for years." Making excuses for someone you love is a flaw, but not one necessarily rooted in selfishness. Again, it was actively inconvenient for Lily to make excuses for Sev. It's also a very human flaw, not one that makes her a bad person-- especially when you consider that Lily's capacity for forgiveness had its limits, as she demonstrated with Snape.

To forgive is an act of compassion... it's not done because people deserve it, it's done because they need it.

anyway with that buffy quote out of the way, lets move on

Lily owes Snape nothing.

I'm sure people will disagree, but, objectively, she just doesn't. They are not friends at this point. He has demonstrated consistently that he doesn't have enough consideration for her to stop rubbing shoulders with people who literally want to murder her, including a boy who attacked her housemate. So why is Lily expected to take into account his feelings and his history with James? Which leads right into:

It's a massive double-standard for Lily to be blamed for marrying James when Snape isn't afforded the same for associating with Death Eaters.

I mean, think what you want, but to me being a mass murderer intent on exterminating an entire subset of the population (talking about Voldemort and other DEs here, not Snape) is like, maybe, a tiny bit worse than being a bully in school. But what do I know. Snape willingly joined up with such people, knowing perfectly well what they wanted to do to Lily, the woman he loved, and everyone like her. If Lily's choice in husband makes her a selfish person, then by your own logic Snape is completely irredeemable and you should probably delete your blog about how misunderstood and babygirl he is.

Sometimes people marry or befriend terrible people.

Similar to the first point, lack of judgement is a flaw but not one that directly indicates selfishness. Again, remember, Lily believed James to have changed. She believed, whether or not she was wrong, that redemption is possible. It's extremely common for women to date and marry terrible men, unfortunately, and to be blinded to their flaws. There are many possible reasons for this. I guess you can argue that the desire to be loved is inherently selfish, but that still wouldn't make Lily notably selfish at all, rather just a normal human. Plenty of people have had the experience of dating someone who is terrible or being friends with someone who is terrible at some point in their lives, and it doesn't automatically make them terrible themselves. People make mistakes and have poor judgment occasionally. Her actions in SWM suggest she would not have tolerated nor validated any cruelty from James towards others, had she been aware of it. Anyway, once again if you're holding Lily responsible for James's actions you need to also hold Snape responsible for the actions of his buddies. If it's selfish for Lily to associate with a bully (who she believed to have reformed) it's straight up devoid of any humanity whatsoever for Snape to KNOWINGLY associate with people like Mulciber, Voldemort, and Bellatrix. I don't actually believe this btw, I'm just following the logic through.

Furthermore, it's completely unfair to blame Lily for, in particular, the past actions of her husband.

As we clearly see in SWM, she did NOT tolerate his behaviour during the years before they started dating. James's behaviour is simply not Lily's responsibility, and neither is Snape's. It's not her job to fix them nor pay for their mistakes, nor should she have to investigate and tally up all their past wrongdoings when making her own choices. If James was actively being a menace and Lily was just watching going 'teehee' I'd understand this more, but again, she was NOT aware. Based on her behaviour in SWM, this would be out of character for Lily.

Someone having a moral stance you personally disagree with doesn't automatically make them a bad person.

If your moral stance is that James's past actions are completely unforgivable, and you could not personally date someone who did what he did, no matter how he evolved as a person, that's perfectly fine. As I've established, Lily was not aware of any continuing wrongdoing, nor would she have validated or supported it had she been aware. Lily's belief was that the person she was currently dating was a good person. She believed in redemption and second chances. If you personally do not believe in redemption or second chances, I'd question why you even like Snape, but ultimately that's your prerogative. However, believing otherwise doesn't make Lily a bad person nor selfish, even if you personally disagree or think she was wrong. People are allowed to be mistaken.

Snape was probably less relevant to their lives than you think.

Like to be quite honest, they were fighting a war and priorities had shifted, as they often do in adulthood. Lily ended her friendship with Sev, and after Hogwarts James and Lily almost certainly had no association with him whatsoever. Is Lily expected to continually self-flagellate over Snape for the rest of her life? Is she expected to take him into account in every decision she makes, forever? Believe it or not James and Lily existed separately to Snape, rather than as extensions of his character. They moved on. Snape didn't, that's what makes him beautiful-- and yes there's a reason why Snape couldn't move on, but, again, that is not Lily's responsibility. It seems reasonable to me that, particularly given the extreme nature of her circumstances, Lily would take into account first and foremost the actions she observed from James in the present, rather than what he did in the past. See above re: Lily owes Snape nothing.

Being selfless, kind, or a good person doesn't make one perfect.

When I say Lily was selfless, I do NOT mean that she was flawless. If this is your takeaway I worry for you. Also, enough about the Virgin Mary lol. Anyway, humans are complex, and selfless people are capable of selfishness on occasion. Everyone is. A certain amount of selfishness is not only normal, it can be a good thing and necessary for protecting yourself. When Lily ended her friendship with Sev, it was something she was doing for herself, so in the most technical sense (and it's still a huge stretch) it can be viewed as selfish. Nobody is or should be 100% selfless all the time. So even were I to concede that she was selfish in marrying James (which I don't) it doesn't preclude her being a selfless person in general.

Being selfless, kind, or a good person doesn't make a female character 'unrealistic.'

What even is this argument, honestly. Like do you just not believe in the existence of good women irl? Suspicious. I would gently suggest that if you find it unrealistic (or boring) for a woman to be a good person, that's maybe something you should take a closer look at. If your automatic assumption about a woman is that she must have married a man for his money, I would also interrogate that belief.

idk she was a teenage girl, pls develop some empathy

once you come down from your podium in the unholy tribunal, it might be worth considering female characters (and women in general) as human, and not just avatars who simply react to the emotional turmoil of men. At absolute worst you could assume that she was tricked by James (which I still disagree with, but it's a slightly more generous reading) or was blind and naive. All of which are more understandable than, for some reason, assuming she was a conniving bitch who wanted to hurt Snape and selfishly marry into wealth. Ultimately her decision to marry James probably had nothing to do with Snape at all. She was 21 when she died. Bad judgment is common at that age, and it's not necessarily a product of selfishness at all. Look, I'd understand this whole thing more if everyone was in their 30s. But is it not the teenage girl experience of all time to date an asshole? Do you have no empathy for that situation? Like I said, I'm arguing this based on the idea that James was completely irredeemable; would an abuser not abuse his girlfriend too? Would someone who is evil and cruel in all respects not also display cruelty to his wife? Can you not summon up an ounce of empathy for a 17 year old who might have thought, as many young girls do, 'I can fix him?'

To conclude, I think that the idea that Lily marrying a bully makes her a bad person is just rooted in lack of empathy for her as a character. Despite spending hours dissecting every last thought process a man might have had, there's no attempt at all to try and understand Lily's motives, rather they're considered exclusively from the perspective of Snape's emotions. This is unfair.

I don't doubt that it hurt Snape's feelings for Lily to date and marry James. But Snape's feelings are no longer her concern. She owes him nothing. Sev called his best friend a slur publicly and joined an organisation that wanted to murder her, with no respect for her feelings at all. They are no longer friends, and he has no right whatsoever to expect her to consider his own emotional needs anymore, and her choices no longer have anything to do with him. Nor should they have.

Whether or not you think it was a mistake for Lily to marry James, that's Lily's problem. Not Snape's. If you truly believe James was a monster, logically it's Lily you should be feeling sorry for. The fact that there's no empathy for her to be found, and that people revert so quickly to the Top 100 Misogyny Classic of 'she must be a gold digger' speaks for itself.

[bratz-d0llz]

will go down in the history books

[the-offside-rule]

Hector Fort (FCBarcelona) - She's All That

Requested: yes

Prompt: Shes All That

Warnings: none

The Rom-Com Masterlist ♡

Hector wasn’t the type to get dumped. Especially not right before prom, and definitely not by Maria, his girlfriend of two years. But here he was, venting to his friends during lunch, still reeling from their breakup the night before. "I don’t need her, anyway." He muttered, crossing his arms and glaring at his plate. "She didn’t even have the guts to tell me why she flaked out on me at the last minute." His friend Pau smirked. "Right, but you’re also sitting here crying about her." Hector rolled his eyes. "I'm not crying. My eyes are dry."

"Right." Pau said, leaning in with a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, if you really don’t need her, prove it. Why don’t you make someone else prom queen?" Hector scoffed. "Please. I could make any girl prom queen if I wanted to." Pau raised an eyebrow. "Any girl?" Hector shrugged, only half-paying attention as he speared a fry with his fork. "Sure, go for it. I’ll take whoever you pick."

Pau grinned as he scanned the cafeteria. His gaze landed on Y/n, sitting alone at a table in the far corner, headphones on, absorbed in a book. She was one of the few people who seemed perfectly content keeping to herself, and she had a reputation for being sharp-tongued and fiercely independent. Pau smirked. "Fine. Y/n Y/l/n." Hector nearly choked. "Her? Are you serious?" Pau laughed, nudging him. "Afraid you can’t handle it?"

Hector straightened up. "Oh, I can handle it." He said, though he could already feel the challenge looming. Y/n was practically impossible to like. She had no time for people who didn’t interest her, and she made that clear. But a bet was a bet.

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The next day, Hector decided to start small. He found out they had history together and made sure to slip into the seat next to her, flashing a casual smile as he sat down. "Hey, Y/n." Hector said, leaning back in his chair. "What’s up?" She glanced at him, her expression barely hiding her irritation, and after a second of silence, she zipped up her bag, moved to the front of the class, and sat down without a word. Hector blinked, genuinely surprised. That hadn’t gone as planned.

Strike one.

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He tried again at lunch. He spotted her in the cafeteria line, balancing a tray of food and a stack of notebooks, and thought he’d give chivalry a shot. "Go ahead." He said, gesturing for her to cut in front of him. Y/n raised an eyebrow, gave him a look that practically screamed nice try, but no and walked to the back of the line instead.

Strike two.

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By the end of the school day, Hector’s confidence was slipping. This was going to be harder than he’d thought. But then, as he headed to the parking lot, he saw her by the school entrance, staring out at the downpour, her massive art project tucked awkwardly under one arm. She looked like she was trying to figure out how to get it home without it being completely ruined. Taking a deep breath, he strolled up to her, putting on what he hoped was his most nonchalant voice. "Need a ride?" He asked. "I don't need anything frlm you." She replie, disgust lining her words. "Well, it's a shame. Seems that lovely artpiece is goimg to be ruined if you don't let me give you a ride." Y/n hesitated, looking torn between her pride and the reality of the rain, but finally nodded. "Fine."

They walked in silence to his car, and she carefully laid her project across the back seat before settling into the passenger side. The rain drummed against the windows as they drove, the quiet tension in the car growing until Hector finally spoke up. "So." He said, glancing over at her. "What’s your project about?" She looked at him, clearly surprised that he’d asked. "It’s… well, it’s supposed to be a self-portrait, kind of abstract. I’m exploring the idea of self-identity."

He raised his eyebrows. "That’s actually… interesting." She let out a skeptical laugh. "Are you serious, or are you just trying to be nice?"

"Have I ever actually been mean to you?" He asked. She shook her head. "No, but my friend. You did push him into a set of lockers before." He sighed. "Okay, fair. But I mean it." He said, more sincerely than he’d meant to. "I think it’s cool. You’re actually a pretty interesting person." She eyed him, her skepticism clear. "You don’t actually care about my project, do you? Let me guess; Maria dumped you, so now you’re desperate for a rebound?"

Hector let out a surprised laugh. "A rebound? No, that’s not it. It’s… it’s more like I realized I want to get to know a different group of people. You’re different." She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but there was a hint of curiosity in her expression as she looked out the window. She hummed slowly. "We’ll see."

They pulled up in front of her house, and she grabbed her art project, pausing as she stepped out of the car. "See you tomorrow, I guess." She said, giving him a look that was somewhere between intrigue and caution. He grinned, leaning against the steering wheel. "You coming to my game Friday night?" Zhe shrugged, but he could see the faintest hint of a smile as she closed the door behind her. "Maybe." She called over her shoulder as she walked up her driveway.

Hector drove off, a strange new excitement bubbling in his chest. He had a feeling he’d see her there.

[minoulapin]

Chapter Three: Weight of Watching - Between Giving & Taking - Y. JW

Pairing: Demon!Jungwon x Angel!Reader

Genre: Forbidden Love, Fantasy, Romance, Mystery

Wc: 6.8k

Synopsis: A love unspoken, a fate unwritten, An angel and demon, forever forbidden. Bound by the laws of heaven and hell, A story of longing they dare not tell. At the Academy of the Occult, angels and demons coexist under a fragile truce. But when a celestial heir is assassinated, war looms, secrets unravel, and forbidden desires ignite. In a world where their love is a crime, will they defy fate or be consumed by it?

A/N: Coucou!! Now bear with me guys, there is a love story involving Jungwon, I promise. But I’m way too much of an angst and slow-burn fan to make them all kissy-kissy this early. It’s going to take time and maybe a little suffering, but it will happen eventually. Just hoping the wait will be worth it 😮‍💨 - Joe

Tag list: open!! (Comment to be added) @stormy1408 @whateveridontcaresheesh @indigoez @riribelle @iifrui @m3l4nchol @bamguetismee @w1dyvnn

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | MASTERLIST | NEXT CHAPTER

Angels were not born. They were made.

Forged from celestial fire, shaped by divine hands, their existence was dictated by purpose. There was no uncertainty, no deviation, only order. Unlike demons, who were shaped from chaos, angels were given clarity, obedience woven into the very core of their being. They existed to serve, to uphold, to maintain balance as the Dominion commanded.

At least, that is what they were told.

The Dominion saw their creation as proof of their divine right to rule. Angels were the children of light, the enforcers of harmony. They had no need for questions. No need for doubt. There was no space for uncertainty in the celestial hierarchy.

But what happens to angels who begin to doubt?

The ones who question, who rebel, who seek their own truth, they are exiled.

Some fall to the Infernal Court. Some vanish without a trace. And some, the ones who refuse to choose a side, are erased from history altogether.

The Dominion does not speak of them. The records do not remember them. They are not mourned. It is said that to question is to fall. That those who wander too far from the path will never return. And yet, throughout history, there have always been whispers.

Angels who disappeared. Names that faded into nothing. Unfinished stories left to rot in forbidden archives.

Some say they were unmade.

Others say they fell.

But one thing remained certain:

Angels who strayed too far never came back.

Dust coats the worn leather of the book's cover, its ancient spine barely holding together as Y/n turns another fragile page. The dim candlelight flickers against the towering bookshelves surrounding her, casting long shadows in the farthest corner of the library. Here, beneath the weight of history, the air is thick with silence, watchful, suffocating, like a presence lingering just beyond her reach.

She closes the book, fingers tightening around the edges of the page. Her pulse is steady, but there's a quiet unease creeping beneath her skin.

She knew, deep down, that she shouldn't be reading this. But she couldn't stop. Because this wasn't just history. This was a warning. And she was doing exactly what angels were never meant to do.

She moves carefully, slipping between lessons and training sessions, her eyes skimming over the world around her, but never truly seeing it. If anyone asked, she was just another student walking the halls, fulfilling her duties. But her thoughts were elsewhere.

She was collecting details, threading together half-truths and inconsistencies, piecing together fragments of a story no one wanted told. The deeper she dug, the more the cracks in history widened. Records contradicted each other, timelines blurred. Events that should have been monumental were barely documented at all. Some things, things that should have been impossible, were missing entirely.

No one seemed to notice. Or at least, she thought no one noticed.

But then there was that feeling.

A pressure against the back of her neck, the subtle weight of something unseen, someone just out of sight. It followed her between classes, through empty corridors, into the dim corners of the library where dust clung to forgotten books. A ghost in the periphery, vanishing the second she turned to look.

She ignored it. Because if she started questioning everything, she'd never get anywhere. She kept her head down and continued digging, knowing she was running out of time before someone did notice.

But what she didn't realize, Someone already had.

Jungwon never meant to follow her.

Not at first.

The first time had been an accident. A late-night walk through the academy grounds, his mind heavy with thoughts. He had seen her then, shoulders hunched slightly forward, footsteps deliberate, lips pressed together in quiet determination. Alone, moving like she belonged in the shadows rather than among the celestial.

He should have left. But he didn't.

Instead, he had lingered, just long enough to see the way she hovered outside the restricted archives, fingers grazing over the locked door as if she could will it open. She had stayed there for a long moment, unmoving, and then disappeared down the hallway, silent as a ghost.

Jungwon told himself it was nothing.

But then it happened again.

And again.

The same pattern. The same movements. Late at night, early in the morning, whenever she thought no one was looking.

But he was looking. He didn't know when curiosity became habit. When watching became something he needed to do.

At first, it was logical. Practical. Someone had to keep an eye on her before she got herself killed. That was all.

But then there was that moment in the training hall. He had felt her presence before he had even seen her, the way the air shifted when she entered. It wasn't her magic, it wasn't anything celestial. It was her. Like a disturbance in an otherwise perfect system. A sharp edge where there should have been smoothness.

She was chaos. She didn't belong. And yet, she was still here. And that made him angry.

Jungwon never acted on impulse. Never lost control. He was methodical, disciplined, unwavering. He followed the rules. He enforced them. But she made him hesitate. She made him linger. She made him care. And he hated that. She was a problem, loud, stubborn, reckless. She didn't know when to stop. She didn't know how close she was to getting herself erased. And now, somehow, that was his problem. He should stop. He knows he should stop. But he doesn't.

He won't.

Because now, he's not just watching her. He's waiting. Waiting for the moment she pushes too far. And when she does. He'll be there. Not to save her. Not to stop her. But to see what happens next.

The celestial training grounds were vast, an open expanse of polished marble, ringed by towering columns and enchanted runes that pulsed faintly with energy. Overhead, golden light filtered through the arched ceilings, casting an almost holy glow over the sparring matches taking place.

But Y/n wasn't thinking about the beauty of it. She was focused on the fight.

She grinned. "You sure you can handle me, blondie?"

Jake circled her, his steps slow, calculated. His stance was relaxed, but she knew better than to let her guard down. He had that glint in his eye, the one that meant he was about to pull something unfair.

Jake smirked, tossing a dagger between his hands. "I don't know, Y/n. You look a little tense. Something on your mind?"

Yes.

But she wasn't about to tell him that. Instead, she rolled her eyes. "You talk too much."

"And yet you keep listening." She didn't respond, she was already moving.

Their classmates sparred around them, blades clashing, bursts of celestial energy cracking through the air. Some students fought with elegant, controlled precision, their magic weaving effortlessly into their movements. Others relied solely on their spells, letting power do the work.

Y/n?

Y/n fought with instinct.

She struck first, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat. No hesitation. Her footwork was sharp, her movements instinctive, honed by years of knowing that magic would never be her strong suit. She relied on speed. Precision. Strategy.

Jake dodged, barely. Then he grinned. "Too slow."

She didn't let the taunt get to her. Instead, she pivoted, feinting left before lunging right. It was a trick that worked on most people, except Jake wasn't most people.

He saw it coming. He always did.

Jake ducked under her strike, his arm shooting out. Y/n barely managed to twist out of reach before his dagger could land against her ribs. She gritted her teeth. Too close.

"Come on," Jake teased, twirling his blade lazily. "You're gonna have to do better than that."

They had sparred together for years. He knew how she moved, how she thought. And more importantly, He knew her weaknesses. She didn't answer. She just moved. She was fast. Faster than most. She darted behind him, slamming the heel of her boot against the back of his knee, forcing him off balance. He recovered quickly, twisting around to block her next attack, but she was already two steps ahead.

This time, she was winning. She could feel it.

Jake had no opening. She kept him moving, forcing him to dodge instead of counter. She struck again, faster, sharper, forcing him back.

One more move. One more second. And she had him.

Then—it happened. A pulse of energy surged through her veins, sharp and electric, like static crackling beneath her skin. It burned, cold and searing all at once, and for a split second, her vision blurred. Her magic flickered.

A brief lapse. A force she couldn't control, couldn't even predict. The air around her wavered, shifting unnaturally, just enough to break her momentum.

Jake saw it instantly. And he took full advantage.

Before Y/n could recover, he knocked her off her feet. The next thing she knew, she was flat on her back, staring up at the sky as Jake stood over her, victorious. Again.

She clenched her jaw, frustration boiling under her skin. "Damn it."

Jake grinned down at her. "You're getting predictable."

Y/n scowled. "You're getting annoying."

She took the hand he offered and let him pull her up with a huff. Except, this time, Jake didn't let go immediately. He was still holding her wrist, studying her.

"You hesitated," he said, quieter now.

She stiffened. "No, I didn't."

Jake tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. "Your magic—"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

He held her gaze for a beat longer before sighing. "Fine."

But she could tell by his expression, he wasn't convinced.

She ignored his smug look and let him pull her up. "I had you."

Jake laughed. "Almost had me."

Almost.

She scowled, brushing dust off her uniform.

"Again?" Jake asked.

Y/n rolled her shoulders, ignoring the sting of her pride. "Again."

She couldn't let this go.

Her magic had always been her greatest flaw. Uncontrolled. Volatile. Flickering at the worst moments.

Most angels were proud of their celestial gifts, wielding them with precision and ease. Magic was second nature to them, effortless. Even the weakest students had more control than she did.

Y/n?

She relied on something else.

Speed. Strategy. Reflexes.

She was fast, faster than most. Agile. Sharp. Dangerous in close combat. If magic wasn't involved, she could take down anyone in her class. But celestial society didn't value physical combat.

Magic was everything.

And she had never been enough.

Her grip tightened around the hilt of her blade.

She should be getting better. She should be learning control.

But recently?

Recently, it had been getting worse.

Her magic had always been difficult.

Now, it felt like it was fighting her.

And she had no idea why.

But she wanted to find out.

Sparring was just another reminder of that.

The training grounds were still buzzing with energy, students filtering out in groups, laughing, stretching, going over their matches.

She barely heard any of it.

Her frustration still clung to her skin, thick and suffocating, a mix of annoyance, exhaustion, and something deeper she didn't want to name. She should have won that match. She would have won if her magic hadn't betrayed her at the last second.

Beside her, Jake walked in easy silence, rolling his shoulders like he wasn't bothered by the fight at all. He didn't seem mad, just watchful, as if he were waiting for her to say something first.

She was just about to, when a voice cut through the air instead.

"Tough loss, angel."

She stopped walking.

Jake, already on edge, immediately stiffened beside her. His jaw ticked before he even turned around.

Because, of course, it was Heeseung.

He leaned against one of the stone pillars, looking far too amused for someone who had done absolutely nothing all day. His uniform was as careless as ever, tie undone, sleeves rolled up, like he hadn't even bothered with the formality of dressing properly. He looked effortlessly untouchable, and he knew it.

She exhaled sharply. Not now.

"What do you want, Heeseung?" she said, already tired.

He grinned. "Now, now. Is that any way to talk to a friend?"

Jake scoffed. "You're not her friend."

Heeseung chuckled, slow and deliberate, like he found Jake's irritation entertaining. "Maybe not. But that doesn't mean I'm not friendly."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Heeseung—"

He moved closer, the shift subtle but noticeable. "I was just admiring your technique."

Jake let out a low breath, rubbing the back of his neck like he was actively holding himself back from punching him.

Y/n, meanwhile, wasn't buying it. She arched an eyebrow. "Oh? Didn't realize you were watching."

Heeseung smirked. "You make it hard not to."

Jake's patience snapped. "Cut the bullshit, Heeseung."

Heeseung sighed dramatically. "You celestials are always so high-strung. No wonder you're all so miserable."

Then, his eyes flicked back to her.

And his amusement shifted into something else.

Something calculating.

"Or maybe..." Heeseung's voice dipped, soft, smooth, dangerous. "You're just more interesting when you're not playing by the rules."

She froze.

The words felt too sharp, too precise to be casual.

Jake noticed her hesitation instantly.

His head snapped toward her, eyes narrowing. "What the hell does that mean?"

Then, loud enough for Jake to hear— "You're doing something you shouldn't be doing, aren't you?"

Y/n quickly glared at Heeseung. "Shut up."

But it was too late.

Jake was already looking at her like he knew.

Like he knew something was off.

His voice was lower this time. Calm. Controlled.

Too controlled.

"Y/n."

She swallowed. "Jake—"

"You told me you wouldn't."

Her stomach twisted. She had told him that.

And she had lied.

"Heeseung is just messing with you," she tried, grasping for something, anything to get Jake off her case.

"Oh, am I?" Heeseung's smirk widened. "Funny. Because I don't remember lying."

Jake clenched his jaw. "Y/n."

She hated how his voice sounded just then.

Like he was disappointed.

Like he actually expected better from her.

She exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to—"

"Because you didn't want me to what?" Jake snapped. "Stop you? Keep you from getting yourself killed?"

She winced. "It's not like that."

"Then what is it like?"

She had no answer for that.

And Jake knew it.

For the first time in the conversation, Heeseung actually looked pleased.

He took a slow step forward, lowering his voice, leaning in toward her.

She stiffened as he dipped his head closer.

Then, right at her ear, he murmured, "I might know something that could help."

His breath was warm against her skin, a deliberate act of intrusion, making the space between them feel suffocating.

Jake immediately moved.

Before she could react, Jake was in front of her, stepping between them, his shoulders squared, his presence sharp and tense.

"Back. Off."

His voice wasn't loud.

But it was dangerous.

Heeseung laughed. "Relax, celestial. I was just saying—"

"Yeah, yeah," Jake snapped. "You were just saying something you shouldn't."

She didn't stop him.

Because she knew Jake was right.

Heeseung was bad news.

But she was still intrigued.

Because when Heeseung smirked and leaned back, he wasn't done.

"But if you ever want to know what I know..." He tapped his temple. "You know where to find me."

She clenched her jaw.

She didn't trust him.

But she couldn't ignore him either.

The moment Heeseung disappeared, Jake turned on her.

"Later," he said, voice tight. "Our dorm."

"You're telling me everything, " he said, quiet but firm.

She crossed her arms. "And if I'm busy?"

"You're not."

She narrowed her eyes.

She bristled. "Jake, I—"

"No." His voice was sharp. "Not this time."

Jake continued, tone leaving no room for argument. "This time, you don't get a choice."

She blinked, thrown off by how serious he looked.

Y/n hated that she couldn't argue. Because he was right.

She sighed. "Fine."

Jake didn't move. He just watched her for a moment, like he was debating whether to say something else.

Jake ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "Think you can stay out of trouble for a few hours, or do I need to babysit you?"

She frowned. "What?"

"I'm leaving."

She stared at him. "You're, what?"

He let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, because if I stay, I'm just going to say something I regret."

Her stomach twisted. "Jake, don't be like that—"

"Like what?" He let out a sharp exhale, shaking his head. "Like someone who actually gives a shit? Because I do, Y/n. That's the problem."

She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

Jake's jaw clenched. He took a step back, shaking his head again.

"I'll see you at the dorm."

And then, he walked away.

Y/n stood there, still, silent, hating everything about this conversation.

Because for the first time in a long time, Jake was truly mad at her.

Jake was pissed.

And honestly? He had every right to be.

But that wasn't what annoyed her the most.

What annoyed her the most... was that she had no one to blame but herself.

The hallway was quiet.

Too quiet.

The usual hum of students moving between dorms had faded, leaving only the distant flicker of torchlight and the soft echo of Y/n's footsteps.

She moved quickly, her mind tangled in frustration.

Jake was pissed at her.

Heeseung had thrown her under the bus just for his own entertainment.

And now, she was alone with nothing but the weight of her own decisions pressing down on her.

She needed a moment. A breath. A second to clear her thoughts before heading back to the dorm where she'd have to deal with Jake's inevitable lecture.

But the universe, apparently, had other plans.

Y/n rounded the corner.

And collided into someone.

She stumbled back, already irritated. "For fuck's sake—"

Then she saw who it was.

Jungwon.

Her stomach twisted.

Not in fear.

Not in shock.

But in something else, something sharp and hot, something that made her fingers twitch with the sudden urge to push past him and not look back.

Because the way he was looking at her.

Like he had been waiting.

Like he knew something.

Y/n exhaled sharply, straightening. "Move."

Jungwon didn't.

His lips twitched, but it wasn't quite a smirk. It was something colder. "You're in a bad mood."

She scoffed. "You're observant. Congratulations."

Jungwon tilted his head slightly, gaze steady, arms still lazily tucked in his pockets, like blocking her path was nothing more than an afterthought.

Y/n took a step forward, fully intending to brush past him without another word.

But then,

"You should be more careful."

His voice was quiet. Controlled.

But it stopped her.

She frowned, slowly turning back.

"What?"

Jungwon blinked at her, slow and unreadable. "I said, you should be more careful."

Her irritation flared hotter.

"I can take care of myself," she snapped.

"If you actually cared about yourself, you wouldn't be involved with Heeseung."

Y/n froze.

Her irritation flared hotter.

"I'm not involved with Heeseung," she snapped.

Jungwon clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Could've fooled me."

She scowled. "Oh, I'm sorry, was there a rule about who I can and can't talk to?"

Jungwon let out a slow breath, controlled but sharp. "There's a difference between talking to Heeseung and whatever it is you're doing."

Y/n narrowed her eyes. "And what exactly am I doing?"

"You tell me."

She exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through her hair. "Oh my god. If you're going to be a cryptic asshole, can you at least get to the point?"

Jungwon's expression didn't shift, but something in his gaze sharpened.

"What did Heeseung say to you?"

She stiffened.

It was so quick, so subtle, she almost convinced herself she hadn't reacted at all.

But Jungwon noticed.

He always noticed.

She forced a scoff. "Since when do you care?"

Jungwon's jaw tightened. "I don't."

Y/n arched an eyebrow. "Right. That's why you're stopping me in the middle of a hallway."

Jungwon exhaled sharply, tilting his head slightly like he was sizing her up. Then, finally—

"Heeseung plays games," he murmured, voice dropping lower. "You're not as good at them as you think."

Y/n's breath hitched before she could stop it.

She bristled, narrowing her eyes. "And you are?"

Jungwon didn't answer.

He just watched her, gaze steady, unreadable, long enough for the air between them to feel thick, suffocating.

Then, in one smooth movement, he stepped closer.

Too close.

She hated the way her breath caught.

"You should go." His voice was quiet, unreadable. "Dark places aren't meant for an angel like you."

She had to tilt her chin to meet his gaze. The space between them shrank, and for the first time, she felt the weight of his presence in a way she hadn't before. There was something unsettling about it, about him. He was sharp edges and quiet intensity, and right now, all of it was directed at her.

Her breath hitched before she could stop it.

Jungwon saw it.

His lips curled, amusement flickering across his face. "So you can get scared."

Y/n stiffened, irritation quickly replacing the fleeting hesitation she had let slip. "Go to hell," she muttered, voice tight.

Jungwon tilted his head slightly, his smirk deepening. "I'd love to go back home."

Y/n's jaw clenched. His arrogant, untouchable demeanor was grating, and she was beyond done with his cryptic bullshit.

She moved first, stepping past him deliberately, her shoulder brushing against his.

Jungwon didn't stop her.

Then she scoffed, shaking her head as she walked away. "You're an ass," she threw over her shoulder. "Leave me alone."

Jungwon didn't move.

He stayed rooted in place, jaw clenched, hands flexing at his sides.

He had been watching her for days, lurking in the edges of her world, waiting for an opportunity to pull her away from the mess she was running toward.

But somewhere along the way, she became the problem.

She was supposed to be another reckless idiot, another celestial too blind to see the bigger picture. Someone he could dismiss.

But Y/n wasn't that.

And it infuriated him.

She had a habit of getting under his skin, making him notice things he shouldn't. Like the way she never backed down, even when she should. The way she looked at him, not with the blind admiration or quiet fear he was used to, but with something challenging.

And worse, he liked it.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

He needed to stop.

He wouldn't.

Y/n sat cross-legged on her bed, a mess of papers, books, and hastily scribbled notes spread around her like fragments of a puzzle she couldn't quite piece together. Ink-stained fingertips tapped anxiously against the margins as she skimmed through her findings, if she could even call them that.

Because, in reality, she had nothing.

Jake sat at the edge of his own bed, watching her in silence. His arms were crossed, his jaw tight, not with anger anymore, but something quieter.

She sighed, rubbing at her temples. "This is useless."

Jake didn't answer right away. Then, after a beat, he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Walk me through it."

She hesitated. "Jake—"

"Just do it." His tone left no room for argument.

She exhaled sharply, sorting through the mess of parchment. "Okay. So, I started with the official records, but the further back I go, the more inconsistencies I find. Nothing outright missing, but... altered."

Jake frowned. "Altered how?"

"Dates that don't match up. Events that contradict other records. And then there's this" She flipped a particular page toward him. "Mentions of missing angels, but only in fragmented footnotes. Never by name. Just vague references to those who 'strayed from the path.'"

Jake's expression darkened as he studied the text. "And you think this connects to the heir's murder?"

She leaned back against her headboard, shaking her head. "That's just it, I don't know. But something isn't right. The way history's been rewritten... it's like someone doesn't want the full truth to be known."

Jake's grip on the paper tightened. "And you think digging through this mess is gonna get you anywhere?"

She glanced at him. "You don't believe me."

Jake sighed. "I believe something is off. But that's exactly why I don't like this, Y/n. You don't just stop when things get dangerous, you dig deeper."

His words hit harder than she expected.

Because he was right.

She flipped through the pages, her fingers moving with sharp, restless energy. Notes, records, scattered fragments of information that led nowhere. It felt like trying to hold water in cupped hands, every answer slipping through before she could grasp it.

When she finally exhaled, pushing one of the books aside, he leaned forward. "Okay," he said. "Tell me why this is worth driving yourself insane over."

She glanced at him. "I told you already. The heir's murder doesn't make sense."

Jake shook his head. "No, I mean, why do you care so much?"

Y/n hesitated.

For a second, she considered brushing him off. Giving him a half-truth, something easy.

But Jake wasn't asking to annoy her.

He was asking because he knew there was more.

She leaned back against the headboard, fingers drumming idly against the parchment in her lap. "Because it shouldn't have been possible."

Jake didn't respond, waiting for her to continue.

She frowned, looking down at the notes scattered around her. "I mean, think about it. You know how strict the celestial laws are. We're literally created with obedience woven into us. No angel has ever truly rebelled and gotten away with it, not without facing immediate consequence. So how the hell did someone break the laws, successfully? And not just any law, but the most sacred one?"

Jake's expression shifted slightly, his gaze sharpening.

Y/n exhaled, pushing a hand through her hair. "It's not just about the murder, Jake. If someone was able to break the laws so completely, then what does that mean? About the laws themselves? About us?" She hesitated before adding, quieter, "About me?"

Jake's grip on the paper tightened.

She let out a breath. "Maybe it's stupid. Maybe I just want an explanation for why I've never felt like I belong here." She shrugged, but it was forced. "Or maybe I just want proof that we're not as controlled as we think we are."

Jake studied her for a long moment.

He had known Y/n for years. Known that she never let things go once they got under her skin. But this wasn't just stubborn curiosity.

This was something deeper.

And for the first time, he understood why.

She wasn't searching for an answer about the heir.

She was searching for an answer about herself.

Silence.

Jake's jaw clenched.

Had seen the way she stood out, not because she tried to, but because she simply didn't fit. In a world that prided itself on order, on tradition, on sameness, Y/n was an anomaly.

She had always been different. Not in a way that made her weak. In a way that made her untamable.

Jake had never once thought of her as a mistake.

But he knew that she did.

She let out a sharp breath, dragging a hand down her face. "Shit. I'm being dramatic."

Jake rolled his eyes and stood, moving beside her to sit at the edge of her bed. "Yeah, well. You've earned it."

She let out a weak laugh.

Jake sighed, running a hand through his hair before finally pulling back. He didn't look happy about this. Not even a little.

But when he spoke, his voice was steady. Resigned.

"Alright," he muttered. "I'll let you keep digging."

She blinked. "You... will?"

"Yeah." He exhaled sharply. "But under conditions."

She groaned. "Of course there are conditions."

Jake shot her a look. "You're the one getting tangled up in some conspiracy shit, Y/n. You're lucky I don't chain you to this bed and call it a day."

She smirked. "Kinky."

Jake scowled. "I'm serious."

Y/n snorted but bit back a real response, settling for a nod instead. "Fine. Let's hear it."

Jake leveled her with a look before holding up a finger. "One. You tell me everything. No more sneaking around."

She rolled her eyes but nodded. "Fine."

"Two." Another finger. "The second you get a solid answer, you stop. No 'one more clue,' no excuses."

Y/n hesitated. "Define solid answer."

Jake gave her a deadpan stare. "Don't test me."

She sighed. "Alright, alright. Keep going."

Jake held up a third finger. "No recklessness. No going off alone. No doing stupid shit just because you're feeling bold."

She exhaled, dragging a hand down her face. "You're sucking all the fun out of this."

"Good," Jake said dryly. Then, more seriously, "Four. Be careful who you trust. Not everyone is your friend."

She didn't argue that one.

She didn't need to.

Jake hesitated for a moment before speaking again, his voice quieter this time. "And five."

His gaze locked onto hers, unwavering. "Under no circumstances do you get yourself killed and leave me in this boring-ass place without you."

Y/n's breath caught in her throat, just for a second.

Jake wasn't joking.

There was no teasing, no sarcasm, no hint of lightness in his tone. Just something sharp and heavy, something that made her stomach twist.

She scoffed, shaking her head. "You're impossible."

Jake exhaled through his nose, crossing his arms. "Says the one digging through centuries-old lies like she's going to find a neat little answer tucked between the pages."

She rolled her eyes, but she couldn't argue with him.

He was right.

She snorted, but the amusement faded quickly. This was serious.

He was serious.

She exhaled, rolling her shoulders like she could shake off the weight pressing on her. "I'll be careful."

Jake didn't look convinced. "You better."

Jake studied her for a moment, he held her gaze for another long second before sighing. Then, without another word, he leaned over and flicked her forehead.

She flinched. "Ow—what the fuck?"

Jake smirked. "For being an idiot."

She scowled. "You're such an ass."

Jake just shrugged, standing up and stretching like this entire conversation hadn't just aged him ten years. "Yeah, well. Someone has to keep you from getting yourself killed."

She rolled her eyes, but there was something lighter in her chest now, something less suffocating. She watched as Jake grabbed a book from his own desk, tossing it onto his bed before turning back toward her.

He nodded toward her mess of notes. "If you're gonna keep obsessing, at least do it quietly." She smirked, leaning back against her pillows. "No promises."

Jake muttered something under his breath, something suspiciously close to pain in my ass, before finally collapsing onto his own bed with a groan.

And just like that, the tension eased. She still didn't have answers. But at least, for now, she had this.

Y/n's dreams are not dreams.

They are something else.

Something worse.

A sensation, sharp and intrusive, coils around her mind like a whisper she can't quite hear. Cold fingers of static trace down her spine, slipping beneath her skin, clawing at her ribs, dragging her toward something she doesn't understand. The darkness behind her eyelids shifts, too heavy, too real, curling at the edges like ink spreading through water. Shapes flicker in the void, just out of reach, fragmented whispers scraping against the inside of her skull.

A voice, no, not a voice. A pull. It isn't gentle. It isn't kind. It demands.

She jolts awake with a sharp inhale, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. Her skin prickles, every nerve on edge, charged with something she can't name.

Her room is dark, but something is wrong. The sensation doesn't fade. It lingers, pressing down against her like a weight, like a summons, like something clawing at the edge of her consciousness, refusing to let go. Her pulse pounds against her ribs. She glances at Jake. He's still asleep, curled on his side, breathing steady. Peaceful. Y/n swallows hard. She should wake him. She should. But she doesn't. Because the pull is still there, electric beneath her skin, humming through her veins, dragging her toward something beyond this room, beyond reason.

Y/n swings her legs over the edge of the bed. And she follows it.

The Academy is different at night. She had never noticed it before, not like this. The air is thick, charged with something she can't name. The grand hallways, so rigid and pristine under daylight, stretch endlessly into the dark, their towering stone pillars twisting into shadows.

Everything is too quiet.

Not just because the students are asleep, but because the Academy itself feels different. Like it's holding its breath. Like it knows.

Y/n moves soundlessly, her pulse steady, her breath shallow. She doesn't know why she's here, only that she has to be. The pull is stronger now. A silent, unrelenting pressure behind her ribs, something winding around her lungs, her spine, tugging at her veins like invisible strings.

She turns a corner, And stops. At the end of the hall, framed by two towering columns, is a door. A door she has never seen before. That shouldn't be possible. She knows this school. She's spent years memorizing its corridors, walking these halls, mapping every shortcut and hidden corner.

But this, This is wrong. Or maybe... Maybe it was always here. Waiting. The pull pulses, sharper now, pressing against her temples like a heartbeat inside her skull.

She steps closer. Her fingers twitch at her sides. She shouldn't be here. But she has to know. Y/n reaches for the handle—

"You shouldn't be here."

The voice slices through the silence like a blade. She freezes. A sharp chill crawls down her spine as she whirls around, Professor Aldric stands a few feet away.

He isn't angry. But his eyes are steady, sharp, cutting through the darkness like he sees something she doesn't.

She forces herself to breathe. Her pulse is steady. She smooths her expression.

"Professor."

Aldric doesn't move. His gaze flickers to the door behind her before settling back on her. The silence stretches. "You felt it, didn't you?"

She stiffens.

Aldric's voice is quieter this time, almost contemplative. He studies her, his head tilting slightly, like she is a puzzle he is trying to solve.

She exhales slowly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Aldric hums, but the sound is unreadable.

Y/n's fingers curl at her sides. She tilts her chin up, feigning confidence. "I was just walking."

Aldric doesn't blink. "And yet you ended up here."

She doesn't answer. The moment stretches between them, heavy, suffocating.

"Curiosity is dangerous in this Academy," Aldric murmurs.

She exhales sharply. "So I've been told."

Aldric's expression doesn't change, but something flickers behind his gaze, something old, something knowing.

A pause. Then— "I had a student like you once."

She stills.

Aldric glances at the door again. His posture is still, unnervingly calm, but the weight of his words settles deep into her bones.

"Restless," he continues. "Always looking for something they weren't meant to find."

A slow, creeping unease curls inside her. She swallows. "What happened to them?"

Aldric's silence is an answer. Then, finally "They stopped looking." Y/n's stomach twists.

Aldric exhales, like he has already said too much. "Go back to your dorm, Y/n."

She clenches her jaw. "Why?"

The air shifts. For the first time, Aldric's voice is quiet. Steady.

"Because the Academy isn't as safe as it used to be."

Something in she stills. Not because of what he said. But because of how he said it. Not a warning. A fact. The weight of it lingers between them. Aldric studies her for another moment, then steps back, inclining his head slightly.

"Good night."

Y/n hesitates for half a second, but there's nothing left to say. Nothing he will say. She exhales sharply, turns on her heel, and walks away. Her footsteps echo against the stone, steady but clipped. She doesn't stop. Doesn't glance back. She forces herself forward, past the columns, past the shadows, ignoring the way the air still feels too heavy around her. She won't get answers here. Not tonight. She disappears down the hallway, her silhouette swallowed by the dim torchlight.

Aldric didn't move. His gaze remained fixed on the empty space beside him, on the shadows pooled along the farthest corner of the hall. And when she is finally out of reach, Aldric exhales.

without turning, without raising his voice, he speaks into the darkness.

"You too, Jungwon."

The shadows shift. A figure steps forward. Jungwon stepped forward, expression unreadable, hands tucked casually into his pockets like he hadn't just been standing there, lurking. Watching.

Y/n was already gone. But the weight of her presence still clung to the air, thick and lingering. Jungwon met Aldric's gaze without hesitation. "I was bored."

Aldric merely observed him, his face impassive. "Strange," he mused. "I didn't take you for someone who enjoyed standing in the dark, listening to things that aren't meant for you."

Jungwon's expression remained unreadable. "Isn't that what you do?"

Aldric hummed, unimpressed. "I listen when necessary. The difference is, I don't hover."

The silence between them stretched, heavy and deliberate. Jungwon should leave. He should turn and walk away like none of this had ever happened. Like he hadn't been standing there, watching Y/n, following her every move.

But he didn't. Instead, he spoke.

"She's going to get herself killed."

Aldric didn't react. No flicker of surprise. No concern. Instead, he sighed, a quiet, almost thoughtful sound. "Perhaps," he admitted. "This is often the fate of those who ask the wrong questions. But that depends entirely on how much she's willing to know."

Jungwon's fingers curled into fists. That answer irritated him more than it should have. For a moment, his thoughts tangled into something sharp, something reckless.

But then he exhaled slowly, forcing himself to step back, to distance himself from whatever this was. He wasn't here to discuss her. He didn't care what Aldric chose to do about her. And yet, his voice came out lower, rougher than before.

"She's reckless."

Aldric merely glanced at him. "And yet, you're the one standing here."

Jungwon's expression didn't change, but something inside him twisted.

Aldric wasn't wrong. Y/n was the reckless one. Y/n was the one stepping into dangerous territory. But the problem wasn't just her. It was him, too. Because while he wasn't bound by celestial law, she was. He was the one trailing after her like a fool. And if anyone found out how often he had been watching her, how often he had been following her, Y/n would be the one to suffer for it. Not him.

She was the one bound by celestial law, the one whose loyalty would be questioned if the wrong people started noticing their paths crossing too often. Celestial protocol may have been new, but its purpose was clear. The law had been put in place to prevent another war from breaking out between angels and demons. There were rules. Boundaries. Lines that weren't meant to be crossed. And yet, he kept crossing them.

Jungwon exhaled sharply, fingers curling at his sides.

It wasn't that he cared if she got caught.

It wasn't that he cared if she was reckless.

So why the hell was he still here?

Jungwon scoffed, low and humorless. "Celestial laws are bullshit."

Aldric raised a brow, but he didn't argue. "They are absolute."

Jungwon huffed, shaking his head. "Nothing is absolute."

Aldric's eyes darkened slightly. "Then I suggest you be careful where your thoughts lead you, Jungwon."

Jungwon didn't reply. His thoughts had already led him too far.

Aldric studied him for another moment before finally stepping back, turning away. He disappeared down the corridor, robes whispering against the stone.

Jungwon didn't move. Y/n was reckless. Y/n was dangerous. But he was the one who kept looking for her. He was the one who couldn't seem to let it go. Jungwon exhaled sharply, forcing his fingers to unclench.

He should stop.

He would stop.

And yet,

Jungwon turned sharply on his heel, heading down the opposite hallway. He told himself he wasn't following her.

But deep down, he already knew,

He would never be far.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | MASTERLIST | NEXT CHAPTER

[dreamingbrownie]

Conclave fic recs

A non-exhaustive list of some pearls of this fandom.

Aldo/Thomas

Just Before Spring

The way Aldo went on about it, one would think St. Valentine had gone and gotten decapitated on his birthday specifically to spite him, several centuries in advance.

G, 738 words, oneshot. I loved this for how utterly beautifully written it is. This feels intimate and like you should't quite perceive Thomas and Aldo in their comfortable balance of affection and what-could-have-been, and I adore the characterization of Aldo in this one. The love Thomas holds for him pours off the screen in this one. Such a radiant little pearl of a story, this goes down like a mouthful of peach juice.

Know it's for the better

Bellini stumbles upon Lawrence having broken into His Holiness’ chambers. Title from Waiting Room - Phoebe Bridgers

M, 1,440 words. Touch-starved comfort, alternative scene from the movie as it says on the tin. Bones points for the tag "celibacy my ASS."

We're just two men as god has made us

Having to share a hotel room due to a booking mistake, Thomas and Aldo reconnect with the divine through a bond that is both holy and carnal.

E, 1,803 words, oneshot. This is really solid "there is just one bed" hotel room smut, friends to lovers, real good stuff.

Cardinal sins

Aldo Bellini, going through it, during the events of Conclave (with some ancient history thrown in) This is mostly unsexy, nearly 4k words of being in love with someone you can't have, and God and everyone you hate are also there.

T, 4,043 words, oneshot. What it says on the tin, such a good addition to canon.

The kids have a new take on faith

With every season of change comes regret for the chances not taken. Aldo Bellini and Thomas Lawrence confront their regrets.

E, 6k, oneshot. This is one of my favourite Aldo/Thomas actual smut fics because it's so tender and doesn't spend much time on the internalized homophobia which there are fantastic, but heartwrenching, painful depictions of aplenty in this fandom. Thomas and Aldo feel so lost but determined in this one, holding onto the only thing they're certain of: each other. And it feels incredibly realistic in its portrayal of middle-aged, ageing men learning each other's bodies for the first time ever.

A debt of wine and crucifixion

Here is the worst-kept secret of Vatican City: For nearly a millennium, Nicolò di Genova has dropped in on every single newly elected Pope to give him the shovel talk. Just to ensure none of them gets any funny ideas about Jerusalem again, or that's how it started out, at least. The Holy See has been closing up the holes in their security after him every time, but there is a new hotel built too close to the Leonine wall, there are turtles ambling around the Vestal Virgins' feet, and a new Holy Father from Mexico City sits the Papal throne. That Thomas Lawrence has quite literally signed up for this doesn't help the matter much.

T, 7.3k, oneshot. I humbly offer my own: A The old Guard x Conclave crossover in which Nicky gets introduced to the new Holy Trinity of the Curia, Aldo and Thomas are determinably Not Talking About Themselves, and Vincent still is their pillar of faith.

True Worship

Offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God – that is true worship. Smut, that's it. Tedesco shows up at some point. But mostly it's longing, flirting, and you know...

E, 11,5k oneshot of Aldo/Thomas afterglow bliss ✨

I will love you so much that one day you will begin to love yourself

They ended up in the security office, where a spacious black leather couch had been repurposed as Aldo’s makeshift bed. The clothes he wore—likely from the club’s lost and found—didn’t fit him properly. His pants were too loose, and his shirt clung uncomfortably tight.

Not Rated, 11.7k of just hurt/comfort heavy angst with emphasis on the angst. Aldo's self-loathing and destructive behaviour in this is no joke, read with informed consent. Oneshot.

Concerto for Flourescent Lightbulb and Nespresso Machine

the only way to achieve something that sounds strange and divine is by using your hands - Volker Bertelmann on his score for Conclave 3 years after leaving the church and 3 weeks after getting his new hip, Thomas recieves an unexpected visitor.

G, 13,7k, oneshot. Such a beautiful, tender, wonderful story about the two of them leaving the Church to be together at last. They grow together quite accidentally in Denmark, slowly and then all at once. I adore this story so so much. The tag "[Stucky voice] we deserve a soft epilogue, my love" really rings true for this one.

Trinitas

“You’d like him, you know,” Thomas said. “I do like him,” Aldo said automatically, twirling the stem of his wine glass, looking into its deep red like it was a scrying mirror “I mean as a friend. If you spent more time with him. You have a lot in common.” “Do we use the same shampoo?” asked Aldo, raising an eyebrow. Thomas gave him a warning look but his mouth was tugging up. “You’re both stubborn,” he said bluntly.

M, 33.4k, happy ending, oneshot. The tags say this is Aldo/Thomas/Vincent, though it only gets there two thirds down, and up until that point, it's a classic, fantastic Aldo/Thomas slow burn. So tender and just the right mixture of genuine long friendship mixed with what-could-have-been which eventually does, of course, spill over. This had me giggling and cackling over their love confession with glee. Also I love Vincent cheerfully thrashing Aldo at chess in this. Everyone is so very in character and I adore that.

The Vincent/Thomas masterpieces:

Divine Revelations of Love

Following Tremblay's election, Thomas Lawrence is forced to resign and ends up in a refugee camp in Jordan, working side by side with Cardinal Vincent Benítez.

M, 27,6k, multi-chapter and finished. The holy grail, y'all. This fic is going to make you weep, sigh, clench your whole hand in the nearest scrap of fabric or possibly a pillow to scream into, it's going to teach you a thing or seven about refugee camps in Jordan, the disaster that is European dealings with the refugee crisis, the involvement of the UN and various Catholic missions and orders in the humanitarian aid system, and it is going to grip your heart and twist it around and backwards a couple of times before you notice it yourself. The ending hurts like a goddamn stab wound, so it's a good thing there's the follow-up story 21 syllables already being posted which is going to do the exact same things to you all over again. Bon appetite.

Encounters with Turtles

Under the pontificate of Innocent XIV, Thomas Lawrence attempts to further social reform while navigating a web of personal struggles. Caught between his troubling feelings about Vincent and a crisis besetting Aldo, Thomas is forced to reckon with the boundaries of friendship, love, and sexuality.

E, 33k, multi-chapter and finished.

The other holy grail of Vincent/Thomas fics. I'm being completely frank here, this fic deals the most realistic, brutal, honest portrayal of the Vatican's particular brand of homophobia I have seen in this fandom to date. It hurts. It really, really hurts; this is hard stuff to stomach. The way in which Aldo's internalized homophobia and all that self-hatred as a middle-aged gay man trapped in the Curia is portrayed feels utterly heartwrenching especially because it's true for so many queer religious people all around the world. And then Thomas falls in love with Vincent and stumbles down the exact same rabbithole of self-loathing, guilt, love, self-discovery, musings about sin and God and whether homosexuality is or is not a disease and all the ugly rest of it. I still haven't finished this as I'm stuck half-way down Chapter 5, because it's just incredibly heavy stuff. Dead Dove, do not eat, I'm so serious about this. But I do love Aldo's and Thomas' friendship in this one, as well as the characterization of everyone, especially and including the OCs.

[virginiaisforvampires]

hey! i'm sorry is this is an odd question but i was just rewatching 2x08 and the moments after armand is exposed for his lies by daniel and louis throws him into the wall, louis keeps calmly calling for rashid. i was wondering if there is there a reason for this because it seems out of place in that moment during all these things happening. sorry if i missed anything!

To be honest, I hadn't really given that much thought. I was just so happy Louis was free. 😅

But for practical reasons, I think it was likely meant to serve for Daniel being able to tell Louis that Rashid had left the moment he delivered the newspaper, because Rashid knew what was coming with the reveal, and that served as another hint to bridge between the second interview and the Talamasca's involvement, which I do speculate will come into play in S3 — namely by helping further uncover what truly happened in Paris via Samuel Beckett + Lestat finally being able to talk for himself.

And of course, there's also the looming plot of Akasha and Lestat's history with her, which I think is another major factor in why the Talamasca is involved in the first place. They're looking for Lestat due to the Akasha connection and what better way to find him than through Louis, which they would know what Louis means to Lestat thanks to Beckett knowing the truth about Paris.

The Talamasca won't have to look to find Lestat. Mayfair Witches + the ending of 2x08 have already demonstrated Louis is in danger within the vampire world and once Lestat is made aware of the threats to Louis, he will rise up to protect him, which falls in line with the book canon exactly in that the main reason Lestat did what he did with his autobiography and the rockstar career were for the explicit purpose of shielding Louis and so Louis could finally understand. It was all for Louis, and the show is seemingly going down that same path.

We'll see how they spin it in S3.

[cuteandhughesy]

“will you marry me?” wyatt johnston! maybe over the four nations break and they are just relaxing laying together in the sun and wyatt has planned to propose during the the perfect moment in the trip but cuddling and being so relaxed seems so perfect and he just asks so sleepy and he’s like i do have a ring it’s my bag

prompt no. 20: “will you marry me?”

wyatt had it all planned out. the trip was just the first step. you’ve always wanted to go to hawaii, it’s been your dream vacation since you and wyatt started dating in the 9th grade.

when he learned that he’d been free for an entire week during the four nations break, wyatt planned the trip, right under your nose. and he did it all himself too—booking flights while you ran into town, reserving a room in a glorious all inclusive resort while you were sleeping. wyatt even made sure that he booked it off at your work.

everything was going to be perfect—the perfect trip for wyatt to pop the big question. he’s known that you were the one since the day he met you. it was french class, freshman year of high school. he was already nervous with it being the first day at a big, new school, but then you walked in—bright smile, soft hair, yellow sundress paired with converse and smelling like peaches—wyatt knew he was screwed.

if you were around he couldn’t focus on anything but the sound of your breathing. the way you held your pencil and always scrunched your nose when you concentrated. it took him almost a month before he’s grew the balls to ask you on a date—a date to the movie theatres no less. much to his surprise, you agreed and the rest was history.

he picked out a ring january 1st. wyatt told himself he was just going to look—that there was no pressure in finding one—but then he saw it. the thin, dainty band in your preferred metal, with a big square diamond right in the middle. flashy but still delicate. that was the one.

the entire plane ride he was freaking out. going through his pre-planned itinerary while you were engrossed with watching barbie on the mini tv. he was going to propose on the final day of your trip—the day before getting back on a plane to come home. that way you wouldn’t see it coming.

he had pre-ordered big balloons and what felt like thousands of rose petals to the hotel. the event staff was going to set it all up on the beach while you were away eating your last dinner together. and it was going to be perfect.

but then today happened.

the sun was hot. the kind of hot that made you feel swollen and had you sweating after a few minutes. but you loved it. there’s a huge teal umbrella over the top half of your and wyatt’s sun bed. there was two beds, but you didn’t want to be on your own, you wanted to lounge right on top of your boyfriend like the clingy woman you are.

not that wyatt minded. your skin is sticky against his bare chest, hair tickling his neck as the beach wind catches your strands, blowing it softly. you still smell like peaches after all these years.

both your toes are coated in sand from the walk down to the water almost an hour ago, and your legs slide together in a sunscreen slippery exchange. you’re half asleep against him, soft breaths cascading across his chest.

this moment—only on the third day of you hawaii trip—was the perfect moment.

wyatt swallows, hand sliding up your back to softly gather your attention. his fingers slip under the string of your bikini, teasing you just enough for a public beach.

“marry me.”

you blink, lifting your head off wyatt’s chest to look at him properly. he’s not smiling and his eyes aren’t twinkling his amusement—only hopefulness —he’s not joking.

“what?”

“marry me.” he says again.

“are you being serious?” you question, voice thick with unshed emotion.

“deadly,” he grins lazily, hand darting into his backpack filled with all your beach essentials that you claimed you would need today. a beat passes before he’s emerging again, holding a square velvet box in between two fingers.

“will you marry me?” wyatt breathes, flicking open the box to reveal the most stunning ring. the sunshine catches the diamond, and your jaw falls slack. tears well in your eyes as you try and find the words, gaze darting between the ring and wyatt’s knowing face.

“yes,” you hum, leaning forward and pressing the hardest kiss against his lips than you can manage. “i’ll marry you.”

—

(unedited)

[maxdibert]

From the way you talk, it sounds like you’re defending murderers, like they’re not even bad people 😅😅. And I’m not even talking about cases like self-defense or anything like that.

Legally, Snape didn’t kill the Potters or torture the Longbottoms, sure. But let’s be real—if it weren’t for him, they might still be alive. And he was a Death Eater for three years—do you really think he never killed anyone in that time? And why would he care? He didn’t give a damn about what they were doing until it affected him personally. Hе begged them to spare Lily… Like, who cares what she actually wanted? He wanted to save her after bringing this whole mess on them himself—even if it was by accident. If it had been any other family, he would’ve stayed a Death Eater and kept being a piece of shit till the end.

And how many times did he actually save Harry? Once? Twice? Maybe three times? (And no, I’m not counting that scene in the movie where he supposedly protected the Golden Trio from the werewolf—that wasn’t in the books.) He became a spy shortly before Voldemort’s death, and then again when Harry was in his fourth/fifth year. And the rest of the time, he just sat around doing nothing, like everyone else. So yeah, reading about his “20 years of nonstop dedication to the forces of good!!” just feels ridiculous to me.

He did the bare minimum for someone trying to redeem himself after all the shit he’d done—he literally had no other choice.)

Ah, the classic “Snape did the bare minimum and didn’t even care” argument. Let’s break it down.

"Without Snape, the Potters and Longbottoms might still be alive"

This is, at best, an absurd oversimplification and, at worst, an outright lie. Snape didn’t point Voldemort toward the Potters or the Longbottoms. He passed along information about a prophecy to his boss (which was literally his job as a spy at the time). He had no idea Voldemort would choose to target the Potters specifically, and when he found out, he did what no one else did: he tried to stop it.

Was his initial motive Lily? Yes. And? Snape was caught up in a supremacist organization from a young age, but unlike many others, Snape completely switched sides and became the double agent who ultimately led to Voldemort’s downfall.

Neither Dumbledore nor the Order could prevent Voldemort from going after the Potters. Snape tried. He failed, but at least he did something.

By the way, where was the rest of the Order in all of this? Why didn’t anyone else foresee what would happen to the Potters? Oh right, because Peter Pettigrew betrayed them. But sure, let’s blame Snape for everything. And let's blame him for begging for Lily and not Jame who was literally his long term abuser lol

"Did he kill anyone as a Death Eater?"

We literally don't know and in fact there is a huge insinuation during canon that him ceirtainly didn't.

But let's think he killed people. So what? History is full of people who have committed crimes and later changed sides. Snape isn’t a pure hero—he’s an antihero. If we demand that Snape must have a spotless record in order for his redemption to be valid, then shouldn’t we also discard characters like Regulus Black or Draco Malfoy?

What matters is that he changed sides and actively worked against Voldemort. He didn’t just say, “Oh, I don’t want to be a Death Eater anymore.” No. He became the key spy who kept Voldemort in the dark about Harry, the Order, Dumbledore’s strategy, etc.

“If it had been any other family, he would’ve stayed a Death Eater”

This is pure baseless speculation. Snape had prejudices, sure, but even before switching sides, he was never a fanatic like Bellatrix or the Carrows. He was an outcast who found power in the wrong group—until he realized what being a Death Eater truly meant.

Yes, at first, he only cared about Lily. But if she was the only reason for his change, then why did he keep fighting for years after she died?

If he only cared about Lily, he would’ve stopped after her death. But he didn’t. He stayed, kept spying for Dumbledore, risked his life daily, and in the end, he died for the cause.

“He only saved Harry three times”

First, that’s not true. Second, saving Harry wasn’t his only job. His role as a spy was far more important. Here are some things he did besides saving Harry:

Maintained his cover as a loyal Death Eater, earning Voldemort’s trust.

Protected the students at Hogwarts (yes, even the ones he disliked).

Drew suspicion away from Quirrell in Philosopher’s Stone.

Stopped Umbridge from torturing students in Order of the Phoenix.

Tried to protect Draco Malfoy from becoming a murderer and saved him from Voldemort’s wrath.

Provided the Order with critical intel on Voldemort’s plans.

Successfully deceived Voldemort until the very end, allowing Harry to win.

Saying “he only saved Harry three times” is like saying a resistance soldier only contributed because he shot three enemies—completely ignoring all his strategic and intelligence work.

“He did the bare minimum because he had no other choice”

Really? Who else in his position did the same? How many Death Eaters switched sides and risked their lives daily for 17 years? Why didn’t Lucius Malfoy become a spy? Why didn’t Regulus Black act sooner? Why did Karkaroff just run away?

Snape had plenty of other choices. He could’ve fled like Karkaroff. He could’ve pretended to switch sides and just stayed out of the fight. He could’ve let Harry die from the start and washed his hands of the whole mess. But he didn’t.

He even admitted to Dumbledore that he would never forgive Harry for surviving while Lily died. But he protected him anyway. Because it wasn’t about what he wanted—it was about what was right.

Snape wasn’t a perfect hero, but he wasn’t a one-dimensional villain either. He was a deeply flawed, complex character who, in the end, was instrumental in Voldemort’s downfall. He didn’t just do “the bare minimum”—he sacrificed his entire life, reputation, and future to ensure the Order had a chance.

If you think that’s not enough, the problem isn’t Snape. It’s that you refuse to acknowledge what he did.

PS: Do you even know what it means to be a criminal lawyer? I mean, I get the feeling that you don’t know how to read. Yes, I defend criminals. Yes, I have defended people who have killed others or hurt them very, very badly. So, I’ll insist again: you can try all the mental gymnastics you want to change my opinion, but if I have firmly believed that a person who left someone else in a coma deserved to be defended—a real person, with real consequences in the real world—you are not going to change my opinion about a fictional character whose story is literally based on a redemption arc that lasts seven books and whose only crime was criminal association when he was a teenager. I mean, I get the feeling that you’ve never actually left your house, you don’t know many people, and you’ve never interacted with anyone outside of your church in your little town.

[acourtofthought]

A fun post to get away from the ridiculous angry people.

Do you have any theories or thoughts on Lucien’s power levels or his role to play in the books to come?

Do you think he has the potential to be as powerful or more powerful than Rhys? Like Rhys claims mate bonds might just be a way to broth strong offspring. And we know that and Tamlin both had mate bond parent and both of them are extremely strong and powerful. If Helion and LoA are mates than Lucien is the product of another mate bond pair having offspring. And one parent is from the seasonal court and the other is from a solar court and LoA is stated to be from a powerful line of fire users (and I believe she is from the true line of Autumn high lords and that Beron is from a branch line similar to Rhys saying at some point the high lords line branched off from Keir’s family onto Rhys’ family).

Do you think his fire and possible healing (although I think Elain will have strong healing magic) will play a role in the defeat against any remaining Daglen (Koschei) in the books?

Do you think Narben will become Lucien’s sword? Narben means scar/scars in German.

I feel this one is random but were you at all frustrated that Rhys has a red headed girl in his dungeon that can glow and yet not once did he think maybe I should connect her to the other read head that can glow in my court, lol?

Do you think that the day court powers are also connected to the starborn fae line? In HoFaS after Bryce receives her full star power her light was described as a sun multiple times.

Sorry for all these random Lucien and acotar lore asks just wanted to get your thoughts or discuss theory points. 😊😊😊

Hi!!!!

I don't think anyone will ever be as powerful as Rhys since Sarah made it such a point to mention how he's the most powerful HL in Prythian history (though.....you never know, Amren did make that comment that if Rhys were not going to claim what was his birthright the Cauldron's benevolence would be extended to another) but I do think Lucien will have more influence than Rhys.

I don't think Lucien would need to be "the most powerful HL in history" to make what could arguably be the biggest impact in current history. That's not to discredit what Rhys and Feyre did before / during the war, they were willing to sacrifice their lives to save everyone and while that's huge, their grand gestures weren't really enough to usher in an era of peace. As things stand right now there's still a lot of turmoil across their lands. Spring is still in a state of unrest, Beron is scheming to take over more land, the fae on the continent are looking to expand their territories and the humans are trying to figure things out now that the wall is down. While Feysands actions helped them obtain tentative peace, it doesn't seem like they've been able to secure it as a long term thing and I think that's where Lucien (and Elain) come in.

Power is a necessary thing to be taken seriously, knowing that someone with power cannot easily be pushed around, but I don't think Lucien has any desire to really wield that power against others, even those he does not care for, in an effort to have them follow him / do his bidding / accomplish his goals (in the way Rhys used his power to intimidate those around him). With Lucien, I think his biggest strengths are the desire he has to do right by everyone (he wasn't only concerned for Feyre in ACOMAF but all those in Spring, has tried to keep Tamlin from falling apart, helps the NC regardless of his affiliation to Autumn / Spring, helps the humans, etc), his likeable nature (even when Feyre was mad at him she said it was difficult to hate him), and his intelligence. To me, Lucien's greatest strength will come from securing peace for everyone and acting as the one who oversees that peace. With that said, I absolutely think he and Elain will be strong enough to defeat Koschei (I'm thinking Elain will stop him / break Vassa's curse in a way that is similar to Yrene stopping the Valg) and Beron.

I have actually been thinking Gwyn will find Narben considering it's rumored to have been lost in the sea when it would not "bend" to Amarantha. A girl who has water heritage and can "beckon" things to her with her song being the one to find and wield Narben seems to write itself.

I have considered either Mor or Lucien ending up with Gwydion. Mor because she could be a female heir to Theia (since her family was the original ruling family before Rhys's and they are cousins) or Lucien if he were written into the High King plot. Fionn had Gwydion when he reigned over the peace of their lands (not necessarily war) and that would be fitting for Lucien, in my opinion. Not to mention (and to your point about Helion / Bryce), it is possible that he's Starborn through Helion (or maybe even the LoA since there were Starborn Autumn fae - maybe Lucien is a Starborn ancestor twice over). Bryce could use the mask because of being Starborn and it seems like one of Helion's ancestors wore the mask, to the point that it may have left an imprint on his blood (even Nesta seemed to be struggling with the pull of the mask in HOFAS after having worn it a few times despite being made so I don't think being Starborn gives you absolute immunity to wield it without consequence after a period of time). Not to mention Bryce's light is often described similarly to Helions.

"Red head that glows and connect her to another red head that glows" made me laugh. But no, I'm not surprised because I don't think Rhys would subject the priestesses to a complete stranger and unknown threat. Also, while I do think he really likes and respects Gwyn right now, I don't think she is someone Rhys would think to talk to about court business. I also don't think he's aware that she glows.

Thank you for the ask!!! ❤️❤️❤️

[jasina85]

Revised Clanbook Gangrel down. I actually have a couple of coherent thoughts to share.

1) The clan history is... well, kinda boring. I don't know what else to tell you but "this major event in mortal society didn't really affect the Gangrel much" gets old really fast.

2) Clan culture - well, it's the Gangrel, so there's only so much of what might be called a "uniform clan culture". Again, kinda disappointing, but not wholly unexpected.

3) Bloodlines! Finally some juicy stuff. What can I say, divergent bloodlines are fun and Gangrel have a lot of them. It doesn't go super in-depth on any of them, but you get some bits on the City Gangrel, the Arhimanes and the Lhianna (or rather fake Lhianna). Also it drops a tantalizing little speculation about a Gangrel Childe who was sired by a Gargoyle. That bit was especially fun.

4) Beckett! But not actually. So Beckett obviously gets a short entry as a Gangrel of note, but what really caught my attention there was a mention of his two allies - Anatole and Lucita. Now, I can only assume this is none other than the one and only Lucita of Aragon of clan Lasombra, but the part that confuses me specifically calls her a Lasombra antitribiu. And let me tell you, I may only really know her from her appearances in Beckett's Jyhad Diary, and she certainly did NOT seem an antitribiu to me! Hell, even Aristotle comments in that book how Lucita "doesn't seem too far gone" and there might still be a chance to convince her to come back to them. So... what's up with that?

Yes, I realize how ridiculous it is that the thing a Gangrel book has me going on the most is a Lasombra. Don't judge me.

Anyway, one book left and it's Nosferatu!

[iliiuan]

She had ten years with her bestie as Amyrlin. She had access to the two largest libraries in the world. It is in fact possible to glean substantial information about a topic in a library without announcing what you're doing. (And it's not like the libraries would have some saidin section, anyway, with how prejudiced everyone was about it.)

Step 1. Choose a tangential but related topic. False Dragons through History would probably work. If she wanted to be more opaque, perhaps Grand Accomplishments of the Age of Legends. Whatever. Bonus points if it relates in any way whatsoever to your red herring mission that everyone thinks you're on.

Step 2. Befriend the Brown Sister studying the red herring topic you chose. Take all meals possible with her and let her babble unfettered about her studies.

Step 3. Go to the library. Read every book, scroll, scrap of paper you can find for the topic you chose.

Step 3a. Spend time going down the wrong rabbit holes. This is firstly normal in research and secondly gives opportunity to grab tidbits that you'd miss otherwise.

Step 3b. Make notes about male channeling in your little notebook that you keep in your pouch. Bonus points for using some sort of code.

All of this could have been accomplished in something like a couple hundred hours, all told, spanning a few months in Tar Valon and another few months in Cairhien.

Let's be real, the most she was going to find is that

Saidin has to be grabbed and controlled

Saidin has five elements like saidar does

Men and women can link together

Which would have given Rand a start. Because the real key to him channeling proficiently was to embrace Lews Therin as himself, which is not anything she would have found in a library. It's her lack of preparation that I criticize here. She didn't even try. She lacks practicality in her approach, even though she pretends to be pragmatic.

Frankly, she also sucked ass at studying up on the Dragon Cycle, and that's some pretty readily available information, relatively speaking.

Moiraine sucks at studying, is what I'm saying.

(An alternate, though probably more dangerous approach, would be to befriend a Red Sister. They surely know something of male channeling. She's annoyingly incompetent at even shielding him, or cutting his weaves, or anything that you might consider a relevant skill for dealing with the Dragon Reborn. Even just spending some time around male channelers could have helped. But not tipping her hand would be so much more difficult with that approach, so I don't criticize her for not taking it.)

((Or she could have joined the Red Ajah, but we already hashed that option to pieces.))

As for empowering, it's far more practical than that. Why put up with earthquakes when you could be producing a competent channeler? Also, as a reliable mentor, she would have had considerably more influence. (See Lan.) As it is, she lost his trust pretty early, he relied on her as far as was necessary since she was who was available, and she eventually regained influence only by groveling. Her ego was her downfall.

Also, since maybe it was less obvious, if *I* was searching is a statement of how I, personally, would do things. I am so completely opposite to Moiraine in bearing and disposition that no one would ever mistake one of us for the other. I would make radically different choices at every turn, and I frankly don't know that I would be more successful. Given my irl success rate, well, I wouldn't bet on it. But I would have had him channeling proficiently, damn it all, because I do know how to study.

If I spent 18 years searching for the Dragon Reborn, I would have dedicated at least part of that time to learning everything that I could about how men channel, and then I would tell him that information when I met him.

[sophiegoose]

Man, there's something to be said about logging into this site and my DMs and inbox being full of people begging for help/reach for their families

We live in unprecedented times

[polin-erospsyche]

I can’t believe Pitbull just thanked all of us for listening to his song on repeat as a coping mechanism because we were left just that UNHINGED by the carriage scene 😂

TIMELESS, TRANSCENDS INTERNATIONAL BOUNDARIES - that is the power of Polin and that carriage