#though for all I know they��re dedicated to their cause and was one of the guest anon haters on ao3 till I turned them off

[lowkeyrobin]

Hawk x sensitive!reader where even after he becomes all "tough" and "badass" he's still gentle with reader. I just need fluff and everything is so sickly sweet like I want my teeth to rot.

- ♠️

(again i forgot which one it was)

YES OMG ☹️☹️☹️☹️ ; I'm screaming and crying were gonna fight wtf ; thank u for requesting some cobra kai stuff love u bae ; also sorry ab this cause I had no idea what to do here

HAWK MOSKOWITZ ; the one i love

summary ; while hawk is off becoming mean and badass, he's still nice to you, knowing you're kind of sensitive, and he doesn't want to lose his s/o

warnings ; language, talk of physical violence

track ; dedicated to the one i love, the mamas & the papas

word count ; 849

masterlist

Eli, these past few months, had changed. A lot. You didn't know whether you liked it or not either. He wasn't even Eli anymore, he was Hawk.

He'd taken on karate, got a new haircut, and completely changed his demeanor and personality. You couldn't lie, he looked cool, especially while showing off his moves, but what wasn't cool was him getting into unnecessary drama.

You'd seen some things online, though you tend not to stick around for any of it. You were caught up by Eli himself, considering you did online school. The bullying from Sam LaRusso and her friends had gotten too bad long ago, forcing you to hide away for the rest of your high school career.

You considered this transition good for Eli, as he was turning a new page in his story. He was able to defend himself, he was confident, and he wasn't being bullied anymore. But, at the same time, he was unrecognizable.

It wasn't in a bad way, not yet, at least. But this "Hawk" guy, wasn't your boyfriend, Eli. You fell into the arms of Eli Moskowitz, not Hawk.

Thankfully, he knew how to retain his relationship. Thank God his standards didn't raise, nor did his ego, as he changed.

You were slightly sensitive, you'd say, kind of emotional, mentally thin, maybe.

You had a bad day, though. That's all that mattered in this second.

You were trying to deep clean your room because it was nasty, and you were already mad. Nothing was working how you wanted it to. Your grades were dropping because you were becoming depressed and unmotivated, and you just wanted to see your boyfriend again. But of course, he'd been busy with karate and working out.

You yell out of pure frustration as you throw a pillow across the room toward your door before crashing onto your bed.

"Ow"

You quickly look up to see Eli standing in your doorway, having been hit by that pillow.

"Fuck, sorry" You mumble, proceeding to hide your face in another pillow that lays on your bed.

He slowly and cautiously steps in your room, picking up the thrown cushion. "What's wrong?"

"...Bad day"

He frowns, "What's wrong?"

You look up at him, spiky hair immediately catching your attention. "Can you wash out the gel before talking to me? You're intimidating looking like a badass"

He chuckles with a nod, "Yeah, I'll be right back"

You couldn't stand the mohawk. It intimidated you, like you were gonna be the next victim of his karate moves. He understood as you'd been honest about it long ago, and would often wash out his hair in the sink and use a towel to then dry his hair.

Now, his roots were dark brown, while the midsection to ends were bright blue. You'd helped him dye it, the reasoning why the bathroom sink was just barely stained with blue in the bowl.

He re-enters the room, his hair now damp, but un-styled. He sits on the bed beside you, allowing you to sit in silence with a pillow pressed against your face.

You slowly pull it away, looking up at him. You flop your back onto your mattress, staring at the ceiling.

"What's up?" He asks, his eyes gazing upon your tired and stressed expression.

You shrug, sitting up. "I hate online school, I have essentially no friends or hobbies, my proctors are shoving thirty assignments on me while I'm depressed and I need to do a million fucking other things-"

He quickly pulls you into a hug, silencing you. You accept his hug, arms draped around his shoulders as you rest your head on one of his shoulders. He does the same for you, his arms slung around your torso instead.

You groan, hiding your face from the light.

He lightly rubs your back, just trying to show you some comfort.

He speaks up after a solid minute of silence, letting you calm yourself down. "Do you want to get into karate? Or at least meet my friends? A lot of them would really like to meet you"

You shrug, unsure.

"It's okay if you don't want to"

You shrug again, your words mumbled from between his shoulder. "What if they don't like me cause I'm not like them?"

He smiles, a light chuckle escaping his lips. "Trust me, they're not gonna make fun of you or not like you in any way unless you give them a reason. And that in itself is pretty much impossible"

You nod, "Thanks"

"Is there any way I can help with your school stuff? What needs done? What can I do for you?"

"Calm down, Eli. I'll be fine. It's just when there's a lot on my mind, I stress out for no reason I guess. Like, I know everything'll be okay but... I dunno" You shrug, pulling away from his arms. "But thank you"

He nods, laying down on the bed beside you. "You tired? I am"

You nod with a smile, pulling him close to cuddle with him.

"Agh- your grip is insane!"

"Sorry"

[sttoru]

toji making suggestive comments towards reader infront of newborn megumi, then reader getting mad at him telling him to never do it again 😭😭

⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff + suggestive themes. reader gets called ‘mama’.

“don’t start.”

you knew it — just by taking one glance at your husband from your seat at the couch — you knew toji was up to no good. his hands in the pockets of his shorts, eyes half lidded whilst checking you out and the corner of his lip curled up into a menacing grin; he was seconds away from making inappropriate comments about you, to you.

“ain’t said nothin’ yet.” toji shrugs, smirk still in place. he sits down next to you on the couch and looks down at the baby who was curled up on your chest.

it was an adorable picture; to see the mother of his child being so nurturing and caring, so loving and content. it was an every day sight, yet those mundane moments intensified the urge to take you to the bedroom and shower you with his. . . affection.

megumi babbles something in the meantime, his saliva creating a wet spot on your shirt — which you don’t mind since you’ve gotten used to it, “what is it, ‘gumi? hmm? cutie.”

you giggle and tickle your little son gently. your focus was entirely on him instead of toji, who had already snuck an arm around your waist by the time you realised the proximity. his breath tickled your ear;

“you look so fuckin’ sexy right now, mama.”

you gasp in response. not at the seductive and flirtatious words your husband had whispered, but rather at the fact that he cussed in front of megumi. you made it a household rule — to try and swear less in front of your child. and yet there toji goes, breaking that rule a week after its made.

“toji. what’d i say about cussing in front of your child?” you warn with a glare, but that does nothing more than turn toji on more. he loved it when you bossed him around or had an attitude.

megumi’s babbles and coos had died down eventually. he was more engrossed by the way his parents were interacting in front of him. you didn’t seem as ‘happy’ with toji’s words, however, and that made the emergency alarms in the little baby’s head go off;

“bwah! bwah!” megumi’s smacks toji’s thigh with his tiny hand. the impact wasn’t rough, but the sound of the slap on toji’s bare skin sure made it seem like it was.

you grin as megumi comes to your ‘rescue’. the small slaps didn’t seem to stop until toji gave up and defeatedly redrew from you—scooting just a few inches away from his son and wife.

“got what you deserved.” you lightheartedly comment to your husband. megumi didn’t seem to stop there; the kid sticks his tongue out towards his father’s direction for a split second—rubbing salt into the wound.

“watch it, megumi. i’ll fight ya if it means i get y’r mommy’s attention.” the dark-haired man jokes with a smirk tugging at his lips, his fist gently and carefully making contact with megumi’s chubby cheek. the little boy huffs and instantly tries to nibble onto toji’s knuckles, which was incredibly adorable.

“oh-ho? seems like i finally have an opponent worth fighting. .” toji comments before lifting his hands up in the air, fingers bent at the knuckles, teeth bared — re-enacting a scary monster creature of some kind,

you watch the two with amusement; megumi wasn’t backing down at all and was flailing his arms in the air as toji slowly approaches him again, making tiny noises in protest. your husband was also making some noises, though less. . . cute. his were more growling like—it showed the dedication to his role, at least.

“got’cha! c’mere,” toji grins as he suddenly grabs and lifts megumi up in the air; putting him in air-jail as he likes to call it. the baby kicks and squeals, trying its best to get out, “now—are ya gonna let me show mama some affection or should we do this the hard way?”

megumi protests once more like he actually knows what was said to him and kicks his legs frantically, causing both toji and you to laugh at your baby’s antics.

you sat back and watch the two go back and forth like that for a good while, enjoying the moment. you felt all giddy seeing them interact and wanted nothing more than to kiss and cuddle with both.

and of course, you wished that precious moments like these would never come to an end any tjme soon.

[obsessedwithceleste]

Theodore Nott Headcanons

Dedicated to this lil request here 🫶🏽

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

It’s no secret that Theodore Nott had a rough childhood

Between witnessing his mother’s death at a young age and having a particularly ruthless father, Theo learned to be quietly reserved early on

1000% Theo is an introvert

Despite being seemingly closed off, he’s extremely observant and good at reading others and picking up on things quickly

While he may not be the best at deciphering his own emotions, he’s able to sort through others’ easily

This makes it easy for him to be rather manipulative because he knows what makes other’s tick and how to go straight for the jugular

He may be distant and off putting in the beginning, but once you get close, he’s a clingy bastard because he doesn’t let many people get close, so once you make it there he’ll basically hold you captive forever

He’s also stupid smart

(Canonically he’s able to re-create an illegal time turner after they were all destroyed in the department of mysteries so//)

And this makes him a bit of an arrogant asshole

Looks down on people he thinks aren’t as smart as him

He definitely thinks that he knows best and can have a “my way or the highway” type mindset

Probably has some type of gifted kid™️ trauma and a crippling fear of failure

Anyway, he’s super intelligent and witty and has the potential to do really well in classes

But he has a nasty habit off skiving off with Mattheo Riddle

Who happens to be his best friend along with Lorenzo Berkshire

A lot of people think Theo is the “mother” of the group, or at least the one with the most impulse control

They’re wrong

Theo is the one that Mattheo goes to with his dumbass ideas and Theo’s response is generally something along the lines of-

“Absolutely not you tosser. If we’re going to do it, we’re going to do it right”

Queue Mattheo’s initial plan- only methodically planned out to cause maximal amounts of emotional trauma for the Hogwarts population

Theo and Mattheo are also a chaotic duo on the quidditch pitch

Theo is a chaser

Making the quidditch team in his third year is one of the only times his father showed a hint of satisfaction with the boy

Being on the Slytherin quidditch team, he’s often labeled a preppy jock

And Mattheo does help him break out of his shell more

But he’s a nerdy lil book worm at heart and likes to be holed up in the library most days

Theo also has quite the reputation of being a ladies man with rumors about his escapades swarming the student body

But really they’re just that- rumors

Lorenzo is more of the openly flirtatious pretty boy, and Mattheo certainly knows how to make his way around which is perhaps why people think Theo would be the same way

But he isn’t one to really form physical attachments- emotional or not

He prefers to fly under the radar

He may have had a fling or two, but isn’t one to kiss and tell

He has a hard time entering a real relationship

Mostly because when he first realizes he’s caught feelings, he’s convinced he’s actually just ill and stays in bed pretending to be sick

But once he comes to terms with things, he’s one determined wizard

Makes sure everyone knows that you’re off limits (possibly before you know yourself)

Definitely goes to Enzo for advice on how to woo you

With varying degrees of success

King of subtle PDA (just enough to mark his territory)

Confident and secure in his relationship, but also still jealous as hell

Will hex the living shit out of someone for breathing at you the wrong way

Finds it amusing when you get jealous though

But will shut it the fuck down as soon as he picks up on you being actually upset (probably embarrassing whoever it is in the process)

Not always the best at communicating his feeling cause he’s emotionally constipated af

But tries because he knows he doesn’t want a relationship like his parent’s

Okayyy I think that’s all for now, but I have a feeling these will grow and evolve with time sooo- ongoing (?) idk

[tojiscrack]

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃

summary: 7k words — while you’re struggling with the difficult pre-calculus questions, megumi ends up finding out information he wasn’t actively searching for.

notes: woah, sumaya released a chapter a week after the last one and not months later? 😱 what caused this? 🫣 @reinaswrld (aka my wife) got a promotion at her job! 🥳 CONGRATULATIONS AGAIN!!! this chapter is dedicated to you and your success, well done <33 ik it’s not much — one of the shortest chapters so far in the story — but it’s building up a bit of plot, i hope you still enjoy it all the same ❤️‼️

tw: a lot of swearing from a very angry man (you’ll see), gossiping, that’s it tbh :)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n, her parents, and other oc’s mentioned in the story. the rest belong to gege akutami.

previous chapter :)

next chapter :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the classroom was organised with a focused, minimalist setup, with rows of sturdy tables that filled most of the space, each paired with two hard-backed chairs that left barely enough room for you to move around without bumping into someone else's desk. you stared up at the whiteboard which took up much of the wall, its surface freshly wiped but faintly marked with smudges from the writing by your favourite teacher in the world — kento nanami — who had made you sit at the front for the sole purpose of doing a one-to-one session on the easier questions that you still somehow struggled with.

a projector hung from the ceiling above, casting crisp, blue-tinted notes and problem sets onto the board. his desk was positioned directly beside the whiteboard, immaculately organised, with a stack of ungraded worksheets, a coffee cup, and a single pen resting beside his computer. you thought satoru could use some tips on how to keep his work space as clean as kento's; you knew he wouldn't listen.

around the room, colourful display boards brightened up the neutral walls, each one crowded with pre-calc formulas, visual aids, and student projects — some crumpled from years of use, others meticulously laminated. none of them were of use to you, not when you found yourself stuck on something as simple as functions and transformations.

"try again," kento — or mr nanami, as he constantly demanded you refer to him as — patiently guided you, sliding a fresh worksheet with extra space for you to do your working out on. the previous one you'd been given had been a complete mess of scribbles, doodles, and working out that made no sense whatsoever.

you spun the pencil through your fingers in a dramatic manner, eyes squinted as you addressed the complicated questions on the sheet.

and gave up the second you saw the graphs.

"i'm failing this class," you decided with a sigh.

kento — mr nanami — shook his head at you, his lips in a straight line as he tapped the sheet.

"you haven't even given it a go," he stated sternly, his cheeks hollowing as he stared down at you. "remember what we went through."

"i already forgot," you admitted, abashed.

kento nanami's gaze was a perfect balance of sternness and patience as he looked down at you, his expression unwavering; his eyes were sharp, fixed intently on you with a hint of exasperation glinting beneath his otherwise calm exterior. it did not look as though he was going to let you give up that easily, no matter how deep your sighs of defeat ran. he tapped the sheet again, and despite it sounding like a couple knocks on the table, it really was a beat that spoke in strong tunes, one that said you're going to try again, whether you like it or not,

so you picked up your pencil, frowning at the size of the eraser attached to its rear end (knowing all too well that it was not going to be enough to keep your paper from becoming a mess of lead by the end of the lesson) and got to work, reading the question, and then re-reading it, trying your hardest to understand it down to a t.

kento had left you to tackle the problems alone as he moved across the room, pausing by other students' desks to offer guidance.

...and then returned to find that your paper was now full of doodles and scribbles. he furrowed his brows and let out a sigh, rubbing his straight brows from where they began, to where they angled downwards, the lines on his forehead more prominent as he tensed.

"i tried," you said, looking sullen.

"i can see that," he replied, and it wasn't just the mess of lead he was talking about; he could see the parts of the paper where you had made an attempt at answering the question, only to give up and then fail miserably.

he leaned against his own desk, peering down at you through his circular glasses. they looked odd to you, specifically the way they stuck onto the skin around his eyes like that. it was almost as peculiar as that weird, spotted tie he always wore.

"how often do you study at home?" he asked you, and the tone of his voice, serious, made you suck in your stomach, an unsettling feeling resting in your tummy.

"every friday," you lied. it wasn't as though he'd know you didn't.

only, he somehow had.

"i know you and your family spend fridays at gojo's," he told you, his brows furrowed.

you paused.

thought of your answer.

and then reconsidered it just in case there were any loopholes he could find.

"yeah," you agreed, nodding, "but i study there too. before dinner."

"no she doesn't."

megumi had approached kento with his notebook and worksheet in hand, his handwriting neat, each letter and number placed with a precision that seemed almost methodical.

you scowled at him as he looked straight at your teacher, barely even regarding you with a simple glance, apparently unbothered by your reaction.

"can you grade my questions?" he asked, only looking down and meeting your gaze with a glare when you kicked him from where you sat.

"you're being rude," you snapped, watching him shake the foot you had kicked.

he looked down at his foot, then at you, then back at his foot, as kento took the notebook out of his hands. "you literally just kicked me," he stated with a deep lour.

"yeah, 'cause you interrupted me when i was talking to kento," you shot back, brows furrowed.

"you mean when you were lying to him," megumi corrected you, an accusatory brow raised.

your cheeks warmed as you averted your gaze, barely managing to suppress a scowl. you crossed your arms, focusing on the scribbled doodles and half-erased notes on your worksheet, ignoring megumi's pointed look as you tapped your pencil against the paper in a futile attempt to appear unaffected, but the stubborn heat on your face betrayed your feigned composure.

"check that last question," said kento, handing megumi his notebook back and pointing at something on his page with the end of his red pen. "otherwise, well done megumi."

megumi nodded, muttering a quiet thanks before sitting back in his seat that was somewhere behind you; you didn't bother checking where after his attitude.

"you," kento began, brows furrowed at you, "need a tutor."

you would have beamed at the idea, if not for already being in a particularly sour mood after megumi's comment. still, you vouched for yourself, even though it meant pushing aside your stubborn pride.

"megumi, he said you have to tutor me," you said, turning around to speak to him — he had been sitting on a table with yuji on his left and nobara on his right. you found yourself seething with envy that you were so unbelievably terrible at math, your friends got to squish themselves on a table for two without you.

"i didn't say that," kento added dismissively. "i said you needed a tutor, not that it'd be megumi."

at that, the both of you peered back up at him, dumbfounded.

"i've done it before," your friend informed your teacher, his brows raised expectantly. "she takes forever, but —"

you narrowed your eyes at him. "was that really necessary?"

kento shook his head regardless.

you frowned, looking back at megumi, and you could have sworn you'd seen his shoulders deflate slightly too, but your teacher remained firm, regarding you with tight lips and furrowed brows.

"you get distracted very easily," he told you, his hands resting in the pockets of his formal pants. he nodded in the direction of where your friends were sitting without you. "specifically with megumi."

"megumi and i work very well together, actually," you corrected, unaware of yuji shaking his head in disagreement behind you. he'd stopped when you turned to see where kento's eyes had slowly drifted, suspicious. "even though he's really rude when he teaches me —"

"— i'm not rude —"

"— and super judgemental when i get something wrong," you continued over him; he was most likely glaring at the back of your head, you didn't need to see him to know that, "i still learn a lot."

"while that might be true, something always happens to go wrong when the two of you work together," said kento, and even though he was gentle with his approach on this topic, it still felt like a harsh kick to the stomach. "you aren't sensible."

"i'm sensible," megumi openly disagreed.

you did not appreciate his obvious jab at you. "wha— so am i!"

and to your dismay, yuji had intervened. "no you're not!" he jumped in, expression fierce as he pointed at you accusingly. "you told mr haibara my art work was made out of a toilet accident!"

"well it looked like a toilet accident," you shot back, your face relaxed, eyes half-lidded.

"he asked for her opinion," said nobara — your sweet nobara — coming to your defence without a second thought. she leaned over megumi to speak to yuji directly. "what did you expect her to do, ignore him?"

"if she's capable of saying my art piece looks like a pile of shit smeared on some paper, she's capable of ignoring someone!"

it was kento's slight groan that had the four of you looking up at him, and when you did, you'd been met with the sight of him pinching the bridge of his nose, his glasses lifted by his fingers as he let out an exasperated sigh. kento did not enjoy it when the four of you would argue: he said it distracted the class despite your peers having discussions, jokes, and even arguments amongst themselves, unaware of the little spats you'd have with each other.

"enough," he voiced coolly, before regarding both you and megumi with a look of finality. "you have proven my exact point."

"i wasn't even—" megumi began, but you cut through him straight away. it wasn't like he was going to vouch for anyone but himself anyway, the selfish bastard.

"we're not like this at home," you argued passionately, brows raised in a desperate attempt to get kento to consider your situation, even if it meant dealing with a very judgemental megumi, who was never gentle when teaching you.

it seemed that your statement had only strengthened kento's decision to assign you a tutor who wasn't megumi, for his brows had drawn into a firm line, his gaze much harsher as he stared you with what seemed like a mix of finality and resolve.

"i saw the two of you at gojo's birthday last year," he'd said calmly. "the piñata was meant for him, not you."

ah.

kento was talking about the incident where you had 'hijacked' (as satoru had eloquently put it) his birthday piñata. you scoffed — he lived to tell the tale, with that goofy look on his face that was apparently meant to make you sympathise with him, but lived nonetheless.

it wasn't as though anybody was harmed in the process.

kento adjusted his glasses and regarded you with narrowed eyes. "it was also meant to be beaten open with a weapon, y/n. not megumi's head."

"arguably, his crazy hair is a danger to us all, and therefore a weapon of mass destruction," you stated, and found yourself internally pleased when you heard both yuji's and nobara's quiet snickering. "the piñata would agree."

you heard yuji and nobara's chuckles sputter into startled groans, abruptly cut off by a telltale thunk that had megumi written all over it. you couldn't help a sly chuckle as you glanced their way, where the pair nursed their sore heads with matching looks of betrayal, nobara muttering something that sounded a lot like a threat on megumi's life.

he, of course, remained unfazed, still glaring at you, looking about as done as kento had seemed, and sensing his icy gaze narrow further, you quickly schooled your face into a mask of innocent defiance.

"i'm not tutoring you," megumi replied bluntly, and you barely had the time to process that and groan before kento had intervened again.

"that settles it," he said, no longer leaning on his desk and now holding a finger up in a silent motion of 'no more' when your lips had parted to speak. "i will search for someone who i think will be best to tutor you —"

"but megumi —"

"— and is willing to do so too," he said, before picking up a folder, searching through it, and handing you a new worksheet with a different set of questions. "have a go at these before i come back, y/n."

he had left to go and approach other students, moving briskly towards those with raised hands, leaving you with only the fresh worksheet in your own hand, and a sigh caught somewhere between your frustration and reluctant determination.

you only hoped your tutor would be someone you could get along with.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

yuji and megumi walked side by side down the bustling hallway, their steps quick as they wove through clusters of students lingering between classes.

yuji had animatedly recounted an outrageous tale about how choso and todo had finally met, and how it had gone terribly wrong in only a matter of seconds. megumi was silent throughout the story, his mind wandering elsewhere, but he still managed to pay attention and had got the general gist of the story. in fact, megumi was certain that he could summarise it all in one simple sentence, something that yuji had failed to do: yuji's brothers did not like each other and were essentially fighting over him.

yuji squinted his eyes as sunlight streamed in from the tall windows, casting warm beams across their path as they neared the business classroom. megumi raised his arm to shield himself, blinking off the colourful spots in his vision.

"when did all that happen?" he asked, a crease between his brows from the frown he'd been holding up.

"after practice last week tuesday," said yuji, casually, "when i tried catching the early bus, remember?"

"i thought you got the early bus," megumi replied, the two of them taking a right where they'd find their classroom. they'd been stalling for a bit, walking round in circles in different areas of the school, but it was nearly time before the bell rang.

yuji nodded. "i did, but todo insisted on dropping me off. i said no, but — you know him, he doesn't take no for an answer."

megumi knew that quite well. when he first met todo and he'd demanded megumi to tell him his type, no matter how many times he'd refused to, todo remained persistent.

it was annoying.

"and then they met — and then everything was just —"

when the pink-haired boy had stopped speaking so abruptly, megumi glanced over at him.

yuji's gaze drifted into the distance, his eyes widening slightly as he seemed to lose track of his story mid-sentence. megumi furrowed his brows at him, watching his mouth hang open for a beat, the usual spark in his expression dimming as he focused intently on something across the hall. slightly confused, megumi turned to follow yuji's line of sight, the silence between them suddenly weighted, and megumi could only lour at what he'd seen.

"hey," yuji began, voice distant, "isn't that tsumiki?"

across the hallway, kamo stood beside tsumiki, his posture formal yet oddly relaxed, hands resting in his pockets with a quiet attentiveness. tsumiki, in turn, seemed engaged, her expression open and bright, using light hand gestures and motions that she usually did when explaining something.

megumi had seen the same thing in different areas of the school: during study hall, he'd seen tsumiki wave kamo goodbye, just before lunch had ended, he'd seen kamo walking her to her english class, and for the nth time that day, he was watching them interact, watching as tsumiki listened attentively, nodding along with something he was saying.

what the hell was going on? since when did kamo and tsumiki talking to each other become so frequent? was that ever a thing to begin with? megumi couldn't comprehend any of what he was seeing.

but he couldn't blame himself for his lack of understanding here, for everything that had happened in the past week regarding kamo had been odd, especially since that conversation his teammates had had in the locker rooms before practice.

and with a more relaxed, loose expression, megumi realised what that meant; how had this not been the first thought in his mind?

tsumiki was someone that both megumi and yuji knew pretty well. he'd completely ruled out the possibility that kamo would find interest in someone older despite majority of his teammates doing exactly that — they liked older girls.

he just did not believe that any one of them would be interested in his sister.

"yeah," megumi nodded, biting his inner cheek to avoid the natural scowl that he knew was trying to make an appearance. "it is."

"why's she talking to —"

"i don't know," said megumi, now wanting more than ever to enter class early, if only to get rid of the disgusting sight before him. he wished he could also say that he did not care, but he was curious, and he wanted to know what was actually happening between them. "let's go."

"oh, she saw us!" said yuji, raising a hand to wave. "she's saying hi!"

megumi didn't look to see whether this was true or not, but he didn't doubt it, only choosing to ignore his sister entirely and go to his class, half annoyed when he realised that kamo would follow behind him soon since they shared the same one.

"megumi, she's — she's saying hi —" yuji repeated, sounding taken aback by megumi and his cold response of ignoring her entirely.

megumi stepped into the classroom, his expression tight and shoulders tense as he made his way towards his usual seat at the back. the lively hum of conversation around him felt distant, each sound fading as he focused on shaking off the odd irritation from the hallway, and not even a moment later, yuji had trailed behind him, loudly questioning why megumi was ignoring tsumiki, his voice ringing through the quiet room. his obliviousness hung in the air, adding to megumi's quiet frustration as he sank into his seat, mentally urging his friend to just sit down and stop broadcasting his every thought.

to his dismay, yuji did not stop, not even when kamo had entered the room, walking over to his seat parallel to the two.

the rest of the class went by as usual, the only difference being the constant voice at the back of megumi's mind — nagging and pressing — reminding him of what he'd seen throughout the week.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

megumi stood just outside the theatre hall, his figure casting a long shadow on the tile floor as the late afternoon light filtered in through the high windows. the hallway was quiet now, only the faint sound of distant chatter echoing from a classroom down the hall, while the smell of fresh paint and worn wood from the theatre room seeped faintly into the corridor.

dressed in his football uniform, his hair still damp from practice, he idly scanned the posters pinned on the corkboard outside the door: upcoming plays, rehearsals, and auditions for the semester. there was even a picture of you from one of the plays back in sophomore year, a huge success, according to the school newsletter attached to it. he remembered that one, a re-telling of rosalind and how even through the mess your family had caused behind the scenes, you had remained professional enough to take your role as the lead and make something better of it — it was admirable, not that he'd ever tell you that.

he crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall, his eyes occasionally drifting to the door as he waited, his gaze relaxed. when he heard footsteps at the other end of the corridor, light and unhurried, he turned his head, brow twitching slightly as tsumiki closed the large distance between them, a gentle smile tugging at her lips, holding a file to her chest as he swiped the damp strands of his hair away from his forehead.

she stopped just short of him, glancing down at his feet. he followed her gaze, frowning when she didn't speak.

"what?" he said, defensive.

she pointed at his socks, stained with grass. "you're gonna walk in your house with those?"

megumi shot her a look, half grimacing, half glaring. "no," he snapped, snippy. "i'm gonna take them off at the front door."

she shrugged, holding her pink folder to her chest as she leaned against the same wall he had been leaning against.

"i knew i'd find you here," she said, the fluorescent lights above softening her already-gentle features, casting a warm glow that blended with the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the nearby windows.

megumi grunted in response. it was enough to show that he acknowledged her comment. she understood that well enough.

"what do you need?" he asked her, flinching when a random cymbal crash had sounded from inside the hall. he could bet his two dogs it was because of you. "i'm not doing your stats homework again."

"no, silly," she laughed, nudging his side and relishing in the slight hiss he'd let out — yuji had tackled him hard on the field during practice, driving his weight into megumi's side and slamming him mercilessly against the grass. the impact bit deeper than he'd expected, the sharp sting lingering even an hour later. "i was gonna ask you a question."

"ok."

...

"you're not gonna ask me what it is?"

"you're the one that needs to ask the question here."

"stop acting like aunt maude, megumi," scolded tsumiki, making an attempt to pinch his side. he slapped her hand away, cross and displeased with her playful nature. "anyway," she sighed, apparently having given up on trying to tease him any further than he'd let her, "don't get mad at me when i ask this."

he looked down at her, a feeling that still felt strange. only this past summer had he finally outgrown her, and after spending most of his life looking up to meet her gaze, he still wasn't quite used to the new perspective.

he didn't like the look she was sporting. it was something in between a sensible smile and a mischievous grin.

"don't say anything to make me mad," he shot back, brows furrowed.

tsumiki held her file closer to her chest, like a mother protectively cradling her baby.

"let me say a quick prayer before i ask," she said, meeting his sharp gaze with a small frown. "what? i don't wanna get attacked when i ask."

he scowled. "i'm not gonna atta—"

but she wasn't paying attention, her eyes closed as she cupped her hands and whispered her prayers into it. megumi could have sworn he heard her mutter something along the lines of 'protect me from the evil standing right next to me'. if he hadn't been taught that disrupting a prayer was a form of evil, he would have hit her twice on the head by now, but the last thing he needed to do was prove a point.

once she'd blown into her chest, she faced the wall opposite them with a smile, letting out a small breath.

"that was stupid," he muttered, unimpressed.

"didn't ask," she hummed, before clearing her throat. "are you interested in anyone?"

he was wrong — perhaps she did need that prayer after all.

megumi peered down at her, a brow raised, judging.

his usual sharp composure faltered for a moment as he processed her question. a frown twitched at the edge of his mouth, and his eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to decipher the motive behind her sudden curiosity. this wasn't like her usual teasing — it had an edge of genuine interest that unsettled him in a way he couldn't quite place.

"what the hell?" he demanded, visibly disgusted and audibly confused.

"you're making this bigger than it needs to be," she huffed, bringing a hand up to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "it's just as simple as any other question."

"except you've never asked me that before," he retorted, glowering as she shrugged, her eyes tracing the display board, the one with your image on it.

her expression shifted to a thoughtful calm, taking in each photo and flyer pinned neatly on the cork surface, her fingers tapping lightly against the folder she held, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

megumi didn't understand what was so amusing about her question.

it was confusing; it made no sense.

"so?" she prompted, nudging his side for the second time that day; he shrugged her off, annoyed. "is there any girl you like? any girl you think you like?"

"what's it to you?" he interrogated, placing his helmet over his head to block her out of his peripheral vision. maybe if she wasn't being so annoying, he wouldn't have to do that.

she didn't hesitate when she answered him.

"i'm asking because of an event," said tsumiki, and as she spoke, the sound of shuffling had penetrated megumi's thick helmet, entering his ears, prompting him to turn and glance down at her to see what she was doing. from the lines on his helmet, he could see her shuffling through pages in her folder, before eventually pulling out a purple flyer and offering it to him. sceptically and suspiciously, he took it. "'cause i'm organising it, i get vip tickets for friends and family. i wanted to give you one, and if you have anyone in mind, give her one too. but you're being so secretive."

"i'm not being secretive," said megumi, barely reading the flyer's contents. he was sure he wasn't going to go anyway, he never usually did anyway. he handed it back to her, waving it when she wouldn't take it. "i just don't have anyone."

she sniffed, pushing the flyer back towards him. "could've just said that."

"you were being suspicious," he sneered, eyes narrowed as tsumiki shook her head at him, disagreeing. he clicked his tongue, disapproving. "i don't even go to any of the school stuff anyway."

tsumiki raised a brow at him, visibly sceptical.

"what about homecoming?" she suggested, and megumi was thrown back in time to when he'd been struggling to avoid satoru and his 'bonding time' (which was essentially just picking out expensive suits together). "winter formal? spring fling? the spring formal last year?"

he remembered all of those quite well. still, he remained stagnant.

"i only went to those 'cause y/n dragged me to them."

tsumiki reached up and knocked on his helmet. he scowled and harshly moved her hand away, failing once, twice, three times before she finally stopped.

"did y/n hold a gun to your head?" she asked him, watching as he slowly took his helmet off and shook his hair out of his eyes. he was in need of a haircut soon, he thought to himself, reminded of his mom who politely nagged at him every day about it.

"mentally, she did," he commented quietly. he locked gazes with tsumiki and looked away not even a second later. "does."

a flicker of thought crossed megumi's mind. he recalled the multiple times he'd caught glimpses of tsumiki with kamo throughout the day — small moments, brief exchanges, but enough to catch his attention. she'd been smiling, animated even, in a way that felt unusual.

he acted on this prickle of curiosity, brows furrowed.

"are you taking anyone?" he questioned, looking down at the flyer to clarify. "to the... choir?"

tsumiki shook her head, a look of mild frustration pained over her face. "ever since satoru and your dad scared derek off last year, i... i stopped looking."

megumi raised a brow at her, very clearly critical of her hesitant response. "you stopped looking or they stopped approaching you?"

tsumiki's usual warmth seemed dimmed, her kind expression weighed down with a mix of weariness and irritation, brows knitted slightly with a faint line of frustration formed between them as her gaze shifted to the side, avoiding megumi's probing look.

"they stopped approaching me," she admitted with a sigh, but she was smiling, so megumi assumed it wasn't a massive bother.

not when she seemed to be hitting it off with kamo, apparently...

"so why do you keep talking to kamo?" he asked, straightforward and blunt. there was, in his view, no point beating around the bush or sugarcoating it. it would take too long for her to explain and equally longer for him to just get to the point. he did not have the time nor the patience for that.

there was a gentleness in her face, but it looked stretched thin, as if the weight of the question had caught up, stunning her momentarily. her lips parted briefly, like she wanted to explain, but ultimately came to the decision where in the end, she would not.

"wouldn't you like to know?" she settled on saying, her lip curled.

it irritated megumi.

"i don't," he lied, his voice distant and quiet.

"kamo's a nice guy," said tsumiki, as though trying to feed him this information little by little, like a child being monitored with how much candy they consume. "a really nice guy, actually."

megumi did not particularly agree with this, but he was not going to communicate that with tsumiki, not when she seemed so starstruck by him. megumi didn't even think she felt this strongly about derek carter from the basketball team; it rubbed him the wrong way, knowing that he might have to see one of his football teammates — other than yuji — turn up to dinner at satoru's every once in a while on fridays.

even so, he didn't necessarily believe kamo to be a bad guy.

he was decent: megumi respected his ability to never indulge in gossip as well as the company he always chose to keep — except for todo, that was something he silently critiqued.

but kamo and tsumiki...?

odd pairing, he thought to himself.

"he can hold a conversation better than i thought he could," tsumiki added thoughtfully, slightly nodding to herself as she spoke. "and... he's considerate."

megumi averted his gaze back to the display board, now uninterested.

"will i be seeing him around more?" he asked her without actually looking at her properly. he wasn't in support of this odd pairing, but if tsumiki genuinely liked noritoshi kamo, he wasn't going to actively try and prevent them from happening.

that did not, however, mean he couldn't silently judge them in his head.

and perhaps verbally with nobara, too, since she did feel quite strongly about his teammate ("he acts like he doesn't care about anything, with that 'i don't care' attitude, but look at his face! he's trying too hard, so he definitely does!").

"possibly," said tsumiki, smiling gracefully.

as the muffled sound of voices grew louder, both tsumiki and megumi instinctively turned their heads towards the theatre hall doors, where a steady flow of students began spilling into the corridor. the doors swung open, and megumi's gaze sharpened as he and tsumiki lightly searched the crowd, his eyes moving over familiar faces until they landed on you, standing and walking amidst your classmates.

you approached the two with a smile.

"ooh, tsumiki, you walking home with us?" you asked brightly, adjusting the strap of your bag as you shoved your papers inside. judging from the format of the text, megumi assumed it was a script for another play.

"mamaguro invited me over for dinner," she explained casually, "but she said absence isn't an option, so..."

"ugh, i'm jealous," you frowned, gesturing to your bag to clarify what you meant. "i want to come over too but i have a script to memorise by next week, and i need help with the pre-calc homework kento gave us today."

tsumiki's eyes darted between you and megumi, her lips pursed as though she had been missing something significant.

"megumi's... not able to help you with that?" she asked, her voice an octave higher with apparent confusion.

you raised your brows. "no, he can."

megumi aided you. "i just won't."

tsumiki's head tilted ever so slightly, and a faint crease appeared on her forehead, the kind she only got when she was trying to piece together a particularly baffling puzzle. her lips then parted as if to ask something, but she hesitated, scanning megumi's indifferent expression and your casual one with a slow shake of her head.

"i'm not gonna ask," she settled on saying, before you noticed the flyer in megumi's hand.

leaning in closer, you scanned the leaflet's front, eyebrows lifting in genuine surprise. the fact that megumi of all people was holding onto one left you momentarily speechless, lips parted as you took in the big, bold text, still a little stunned.

"what's that?" you asked, barely waiting for an answer before reading it aloud. "'choir day: join us and learn the trombone' ... you're actually going to that?"

"no," hestated, looking down and shaking the flyer at tsumiki as though he'd forgotten that he had been holding it. "i'd even pick your stupid plays over some choir show here."

you nudged him with your foot, not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to remind him of who he was speaking to.

"they're not stupid, they're fun," you corrected him with a scowl, pleased when he stepped away from you and threw you a light, warning glare.

tsumiki clicked her fingers at him, making him turn his head and his attention over to her, attentive, like a dog.

"and you're sure you're not taking anyone?" she'd said, brows raised as she opened her folder and tapped at a sheet of paper in it.

you perked up, nonplussed. "you're taking someone?"

"no," he snapped, turning to tsumiki again with a glare. the three of you had started walking out of the hallway now, making your way to the exit. "i told you, i'm not into any girls."

tsumiki, placed in between the two of you, nodded thoughtfully. "ah, so you swing the other way?"

without hesitation, megumi gave her a firm shove, sending her stumbling sidewards — right into you.

"don't be stupid," he'd said over your loud protests, planting his feet firmly onto the ground as tsumiki stood behind him, regaining her balance.

"no, tsumiki, he likes princess jasmine," you told her over his shoulder, watching her enthusiastically nod in agreement.

"i don't —"

"that's why little you's cheeks turned red when her outer robe fell off —" you teased as you walked right up to him, prepared to attack because of his careless shove against tsumiki. 

but he was one step ahead of you.

just as you moved to strike, he planted the helmet on your head and delivered a solid smack to its top. the sound reverberated around you, ringing in your ears, while a dull ache radiated from the point of impact.

your brain had too much fog to focus on what he was now doing to tsumiki. all you could see, through several hard blinks and the stupid face mask lines, was megumi's back, which meant that he was now towering over tsumiki and launching a range of attacks.

you had an idea:

bending over, his helmet now in line with his behind, you charged forward like an angry bull, your head colliding with his back (a stiff one, you had to mention) repeatedly.

"what the—" you heard him grunt.

you couldn't see it, but he was looking down at you from over his shoulder, confused and inwardly concerned with your choice of attack.

it did hurt though, so he'd have to put a stop to it anyway, and that would've been easy to do if tsumiki wasn't now tugging on his hair and stomping on his foot.

from the far end of the hallway, a teacher spotted the scuffle and rushed forward, his expression quickly shifting from irritation to outright disbelief. apparently, he'd first assumed it was a classic tussle between a group of rowdy boys; the vigorous shoving, stomping, and grunts gave that impression from a distance, but as he got closer, he had blinked in surprise, recognising that the three of you involved were a pair of girls and only one boy.

"right, just... walk home safely, you three," he'd said, eyeing megumi's creased jersey and dishevelled hair with a grimace. when his eyes darted to you, the helmet still on your head, he nodded. "bye... y/n."

"no i'm megumi, can't you tell —"

"let's go," megumi grumbled, gripping onto your elbow and tugging you forward with a little more force than necessary.

you shoved him off and walked beside tsumiki again.

the rest of the journey home was filled with collective bullying, laughter, and a disgruntled megumi who vowed to keep you and tsumiki away from each other at all costs. you were rubbing off on her and he didn't like it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

bonus scene:

toji shoved satoru off of him once the door had been kicked shut behind him, his chest puffed out in an attempt to appear more intimidating, but he knew the childish man wouldn't flinch even if he bit at him.

"you touch me again and you're gonna end up in a hospital bed you white haired —"

"shut up," satoru groaned, his words drawn out in apparent exhaustion.

toji did not like this demand, parting his lips to say something — no doubt some sort of threat — but satoru had been quicker: for the first time since toji's known him, he was jumping straight to the point.

"look, i don't like you, and you don't like me —"

"incorrect," said toji, arms folded over his chest, though his fists were still clenched where they rested on each side of his waist.

satoru grimaced.

that look — staring back at him with one side of his upper lip lifted, his brows raised and contorted, his nose scrunched. toji wanted nothing more than to punch it right off, a clean swipe.

however, it seemed that he didn't have to, for his face had shifted into one he recognised even better...

the cocky one.

he hated that one even more.

"see, i'm flattered, fushiguro," he began, grinning as toji's nails cut right into each of his palms, leaving half moon crescent marks behind, "really, i am, but i have a wife —"

toji's nostrils flared dangerously.

"shut-the-fuck-up-before-i-shove-my-fist-in-your-fucking-mouth-you-cocky-fucking-bastard —"

satoru raised his hands in mock surrender.

"woah there buddy —"

"you got it fucking twisted," snapped toji, stepping up to the other male with a menacing glare. "i hate your guts. i wouldn't spit on you if you were on fire — and even now, i wanna squash you where you stand, like a bug. consider yourself lucky my wife likes you —"

"i am not the enemy here!" satoru interrupted him loudly.

without breaking eye contact with the enraged, bulky man before him, he pointed at the door behind him where laughter and chatter sounded from members of the gathering.

"we have a common enemy out there. and just this once... aside from the time the serial-hump-er was out for us men... i offer a truce to get rid of the brat."

derek carter was, by all outward appearances, exactly the kind of guy most people would be thrilled to see with someone like tsumiki. he was relentlessly polite, with a clean-cut look and a warm, ready smile that seemed designed to put parents at ease. always prepared, he carried her books without needing to be asked, laughed at all the right moments, and brought flowers to meet the family — not that toji or satoru could find anything wrong with him, on paper.

and maybe that was the problem.

he was too perfect.

perfectly timed smiles, perfect grades, perfect compliments... to toji and satoru, he seemed like he was performing rather than being genuine, and that subtle insincerity — whether real or perceived — set them both on edge. neither of them bought it, and both of them, despite their very obvious differences, couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't quite what he appeared to be.

toji's defensive posture shifted, shoulders loosening as satoru's offer had started to sink in. his glare had softened, the tension in his clenched fists releasing as he glanced from satoru to the closed door behind him, where derek's too-perfect laughter rang out.

for a moment, toji just scowled at the ground, processing, and satoru had assumed he had lost the deal, that they would not be able to collectively get rid of the perfect brat of a date that tsumiki had brought out. but then, toji looked up again, and gave him a quick, almost reluctant nod.

satoru gave him a toothy grin, which was not returned.

"what did you have in mind?" toji began, his voice gruff with obvious reluctance.

"hate to say it, but i'm gonna have to be the brains behind this," said satoru, sounding all too pleased with himself.

if toji hadn't been so pissed with the sight of that carter kid, he might have actually spent time being suspicious with the white-haired freak. what if he was setting him up again? it certainly wouldn't have been the first time...

"believe me, i'd love to be in on the action too," he continued, still smiling that dopy smile, "but i'm a teacher at the high school. got a rep to keep up. and... i could lose my job, obviously..." he glanced at toji with a small, cheeky grin. "you wouldn't be able to relate —"

"— get to the fucking point —"

"— all right."

the plan had been made, enacted, and even altered slightly during it.

the chaos that followed was a carefully orchestrated disaster. satoru's brilliant plan had required toji to bring back a bothersome personality trait he had put at rest from meeting his wife onwards, turning an already uncomfortable event into a whirlwind.

plates clattered, chairs tipped, and the silverware clinked at the most inopportune moments, all while derek had tried to keep his composure, only to grow more visibly unnerved as the night went on. between satoru's subtle, deadpan remarks that derek barely caught, and toji's unexpected, pointed comments that cut through any remaining calm, derek found himself squirming, second-guessing every word. and when toji made a point of 'accidentally' standing too close, arms crossed, looming like a silent bouncer, that had been the final straw.

tsumiki's date excused himself with a pale face, disappearing through the door as fast as he could without actually running.

in turn, tsumiki had not spoken to either of them again for a whole, entire week.

at least the brat was gone without any legal reinforcements.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

previous chapter :)

next chapter :)

notes: i hope you enjoyed this chapter (congrats again reinaswrldddd) my wifeee 🎀💓 i hope it pleases you, i hope you become rich and rule the world (gonna need it after trump’s win 😐). you’re the best and ily (did you guys know that she’s my wife? 😱❤️‍🔥)

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© tojiscrack (previously ack4rwoman)

if you enjoyed my writing, i’d really appreciate it if you tipped me — tumblr no longer has the tip function, so maybe here in my tip jar :)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

[wooahaes]

a spark of realization

pairing: non-idol!hoshi x gn!reader

prompt: soulmate au series. 13/13

word count: 5.0k~

warnings: some food mentions. some angst. coworkers au. platonic love between soonyoung and his friends <3 some alcohol mentions (all regarding soonyoung drinking, no real mentions of reader actually drinking). mentions of static shocks throughout.

daisy’s notes: soonyoung looks at all of his friends and goes 'i love u all so much' and im like god same me when i look at my friends

summary: Unlike Jihoon and every other friend that swore they didn’t have one, Soonyoung knows he doesn’t have a soulmate. He’s tried plenty of the subtle soulmate things. He doesn’t feel anyone’s pain or emotions, he doesn’t taste anything weird, and he’s dyed his hair enough times to know that he most likely doesn’t have someone out there. Yet the static that makes his hair stand on end sometimes just causes him to think that maybe there’s something else to expect…

Kwon Soonyoung was positive about one thing in his life: he did not have a soulmate. Never showed any signs when he was ten onward, and he never would. Sure, it hurt to hear when he was ten—he was ten and stuck into this category of “without” regardless of how he felt about having a soulmate, that was sure to make anyone upset—but he’d figured things out for himself while growing up. Some people hated their soulmates. Other people loved them, sure, like… every single one of his friends now, but that was beside the point. Soonyoung had decided several things for himself. 

One: he didn’t need a soulmate to be happy and fulfilled. Plenty of people didn’t end up with their soulmates. Plenty of people didn’t have a romantic relationship with their soulmates, but stayed in touch. Some people didn’t even want their soulmates at all, either. Therefore: no one needed a soulmate to be a complete person. He was just fine on his own. (This was something his parents taught him from an early age.)

Two: Soonyoung did have soulmates, actually. Twelve of them. His twelve closest friends were his soulmates, platonically, and they’d all chosen each other in life. But if he had to pick one, then it was easily Jihoon. The two had known each other the longest now, and Soonyoung had told him one night that if neither of them had soulmates, then they were platonic soulmates. And even after Jihoon found his soulmate, Soonyoung still believed in it. The two of them just fit together in a way that was right.

“Really?” Jihoon had been half-asleep on the couch that night, tired from both work work and music work. He and Joshua had to re-record the song they’d been working on… again. Soonyoung could admire how dedicated Jihoon was to having a perfect product, though. “That’s sappy.”

Soonyoung had giggled, admittedly very much not sober. “No, no, I mean it! We’re soulmates, I think.” Another burst of giggles as he reached toward Jihoon’s hand. “I know you have one now, but…” 

Jihoon gently patted his cheek. “No, you’re right. We’re soulmates, too.” He shut his eyes, about to nod off again. “Soonyoung…” He yawned, turning onto his side. His dark eyes found Soonyoung’s a moment later, only barely open. “I don’t want to give you false hope, but… Have you ever looked into it?”

Soonyoung leaned against him. Of course he had. Hadn’t most people who did, deep down, want a soulmate? Well, maybe except Vernon. Vernon did his own thing most of the time. “I don’t wanna.”

“You don’t have to,” Jihoon said, understanding as always. “But…”

“Hm?”

“It’s hard to live in a world where I would have one and you wouldn’t.” Jihoon’s voice was heavy with sleep, and his eyelids fluttered shut again a moment later. “That’s all.”

“Why not?” Soonyoung stifled a yawn. “You’re cool. You make music. Plenty of people would love that. You can write your soulmate love songs now.” 

It earned a quiet chuckle from Jihoon. “Just…” He trailed off. “I was okay with not having one because love is… different. Like what Wonwoo says about it. It’s a choice and something you make. But you…” 

Soonyoung blinked curiously at him. He…? 

“Anyone would love you,” he mumbled, clearly beginning to doze off now. “I just don’t understand how it could be me and not you.”

Soonyoung had decided to love Jihoon extra from that point on. Jihoon’s soulmate did the same, and everyone else truly adored Jihoon, but Soonyoung understood. Jihoon never saw himself as the leading man in any situation. He wasn’t sure if that extended to believing he wasn’t anyone’s first choice (he was always Soonyoung’s, if that meant anything), but Soonyoung didn’t need to know. He just knew that he would always hype up Jihoon as much as he could. Everyone did, to be fair, but Soonyoung was happy to be a louder voice among the crowd. He would always be there to stream his songs when they were released and share them on every account he had, even if that sometimes required Seungcheol or Wonwoo helping him not break the link in the process.

But he’d never let go of that thought. How could it be me and not you? As if Jihoon deserved a soulmate less than Soonyoung did. Soonyoung had his moments of yearning, the same way that Seokmin often did, but he wouldn’t trade places with any of his friends. Their soulmates meant something to them. Soonyoung had seen the way Seungkwan doted on his soulmate day in and day out, and he’d quietly apologized to him once for the times he’d made inappropriate jokes. 

“What, those?” Seungkwan hadn’t seemed bothered in the slightest. “You were trying to make light of things so I wouldn’t worry.” He crossed his arms. “They hurt in those moments, but I can’t blame you for trying.”

How did Soonyoung get so lucky? Was this what the universe granted him in exchange for lacking a soulmate…? He wasn’t sure, but he wouldn’t trade any of his friends for a soulmate. He’d happily make do with the twelve he’d forged any day.

Okay, so maybe Soonyoung was getting in his head a little. Seokmin had just spent a  little over two weeks in a time loop because, surprise, he also had a soulmate. Which sent Soonyoung down a small spiral. According to some study out there that still needed more information to be more valid or whatever, a good portion of people who were told they didn’t have soulmates when they were ten were people who didn’t have obvious signs. Time loops, hair colors matching, lost items, sparks flying, colored footprints leading to the other person… All things that people simply wouldn’t have seen at age ten. 

So maybe Soonyoung started to dye his hair after Jihoon found his soulmate. It wasn’t abnormal, Soonyoung did like to play with his hair. It’d been a while since he’d gone bleach blonde. And maybe his soulmate didn’t care and that was why he stayed bleach blonde until his roots started to show. And maybe his soulmate didn’t care that their hair was cherry red not long after that…

And, maybe, Soonyoung was acutely aware of the date after Seokmin broke his loop. Each day followed one another as they always did, but Soonyoung swore a Tuesday felt just like a Monday once. 

And maybe, just maybe, Soonyoung lost a bracelet with his name on it. Joshua made him another one, no question, but he hadn’t found anything that didn’t belong to him (or Jihoon) in his living space. Everything was in its proper spot, just as it was supposed to be. Nothing new. 

No footprints stood out to him, and he hadn’t bumped into anyone lately that made him feel those mystical sparks that Jun once told him about. 

Kwon Soonyoung did not need a soulmate to be happy… So why did he want one so badly?

“I don’t need one,” was what he blubbered to Seungcheol one night, a week after Seokmin broke his time loop. “I don’t. I shouldn’t act like I need one to be happy because I am happy. I’ve been happy before, so—”

“It’s okay.” Seungcheol had held him as he cried. “Soonyoung, it’s normal for people to want them just as much as it’s normal for people to not. If you want a soulmate, it’s okay.” 

How was he supposed to say that now it was starting to hurt? That all twelve of the soulmates he chose in life had their own soulmates, even the ones who were convinced they didn’t? 

“Work is still bad,” Soonyoung said suddenly, still crying into Seungcheol’s shoulder. The words just seemed to dribble from his mouth now, no true thoughts behind them. “Two of the new hires took off because they found out they were soulmates and—and they wanted to get busy living life while they could. And now all of us are staying every night because we have to make up their work, and—”

He just kept babbling, sobbing as everything seemed to spill out of him. Seungcheol just held him, rubbing circles into his back to soothe him. Soon enough, all the words had dried up, and Soonyoung was just left, breathing quietly as he came back down. His head felt foggier than before. Lighter, though. 

“You’ll be okay,” Seungcheol promised him when Soonyoung finally moved away to wipe his face. “I’ll buy you dinner when you work next, okay?”

“I feel guilty,” Soonyoung said a moment later. With less thoughts to weigh him down, his feelings seemed to become more obvious. 

Seungcheol had chuckled. “You shouldn’t. I’m offering—”

“Not that.” Soonyoung let out a long sigh, tugging his sleeves down over his hands for a moment. When did he start feeling so cold? “I… I love all of you. You’re all some of my best friends. I meant it when I said I consider you all soulmates. I feel like I should be happy that we all met in this life, but…”

“We can’t fill that void,” Seungcheol said. He turned to face Soonyoung fully, arm draped over the back of the couch. “Soonyoung. I love you, but you aren’t my soulmate. There’s things I want to do with them now that I know them that I wouldn’t want to do with anyone else. I can’t call it love because I haven’t known them long enough, but… You do understand, right?”

Of course he understood. Soonyoung had dated before, after all. “I know, but—”

“None of us want you to feel left out,” he said. “If you want to date, then you should try dating again when things have calmed down.” He paused, “Or now, but I think the stress from work is getting to you too much.” Again, Seungcheol paused, mulling over his thoughts as though he needed to get them right the first time he spoke them aloud. “Soonyoung. Do you remember what you told all of us when you said we were your soulmates?”

Soonyoung had been… a little drunk that night. Most of them were. But Soonyoung had seen the videos that were taken by his friends of his drunken rambling, and he’d said a lot. “Which part?”

“The universe picked soulmates for a lot of us,” Seungcheol said, “but we still have to choose them. And you decided you would choose us.”

It was the easiest decision Soonyoung had ever made, and one that admittedly made him and a few others cry. He’d been right, though, hadn’t he? A soulmate was a person that the universe felt was perfect for you, but plenty of soulmates didn’t last. It was almost always the people who believed that just being soulmates was enough to have a lasting relationship. Soonyoung had seen people who finally reached their breaking point and ended things, always crying later because that was their soulmate. Almost always, their stories were similar to the others: they weren’t trying. It was supposed to come naturally to them. But a soulmate wasn’t a guarantee for love. All relationships, platonic or romantic or familial, needed work put into them. That was why Soonyoung knew that a soulmate represented a choice. One that the universe made for a person, but a choice that a person had to keep choosing if they wanted to make things work. That was how love worked, after all. Soonyoung had been in love before, and he had chosen that person until they couldn’t choose each other anymore. 

And he knew that it went the same for those with soulmates. Seungkwan had been with his soulmate for over a year now, and plenty of people could count the petty disagreements the two had had. They always came back together after they cooled off, talking things out like adults (sometimes with a little intervention from Chan or Vernon, but those moments were rare). Minghao and his soulmate had an actual argument not too long ago, but they’d bounced back and been stronger than before for it. Even Jeonghan, who had loved his soulmate almost his entire life, had an unfortunate spat that lasted a few days before he reached out to them and asked to reconcile. Love was a choice as much as it was a feeling. It was what brought them all back together again. A soulmate wasn’t the end-all be-all of love, but Soonyoung had realized why they all fit so well together. They all shared some sort of experience in some way, whether it be a string to connect them or losing objects. It was something to bond over, to open up the doors to choosing one another once that decision was clear. 

“Someone is going to choose you some day,” Seungcheol said, completely serious. “And they’ll be lucky if you choose them, too.” 

Soonyoung wiped at his eyes with his sleeve again, the fabric scratchy against his skin. Minghao would be chastising him now for it, pulling tissues out of his pocket or his bag depending on where he’d decided to keep them that day. That, too, was Minghao choosing to love his friend. “I love you,” he said softly. Thank you for choosing to be in my life. He wasn’t sure where he’d be without him.

Seungcheol chuckled, warm as ever. “I love you, too,” he said back, always as though it were the easiest thing in the world. Maybe, for Seungcheol, it was. 

A week later, work was a little kinder to him. His coworkers gossiped about some new hires coming into the company, and Soonyoung, truly, couldn’t care less. As long as they did their jobs and didn’t run off immediately to see the world or whatever those two were doing, he was happy. He’d given a polite nod to the new hires as they were introduced, and ignored the way the hairs on the back of his hand were standing on end. He’d charged himself with too much static upon coming in, dragging his feet as he tried to subtly push his sock back up after it had rolled down. He’d managed to discharge the static eventually, although the slight zap from the metal he touched had made him hiss in pain. It felt like a little too much, but what did he know? He had other things to worry about, like the backlog of work that still stood out to him. It’d take a few days for things to calm down for good. And, sure, the polite thing to do would be to get drinks with his coworkers… But no one was inviting anyone anywhere. Not when there was too much work during the day and everyone was exhausted by the time they all clocked out. 

“So? What do you think?” One of his coworkers had whispered to another after the new hires (a pair of people around Soonyoung’s age) had left ahead of them, having packed up quickly to catch their buses home.

Soonyoung packed up a little slower. Maybe it was wrong to listen in, but…

“Hm…” The woman hummed to herself for a moment, shifting her weight from leg to leg. “I’m not sure yet. Sungyoon seems to work hard, but the other person…” She frowned, crossing her arms as she grew still. “They’re very quiet. Like…” 

Soonyoung knew that she had just glanced at him. He’d always been the quiet one at work, the polite one who worked hard. That’s what you were like, from what he understood, too. You came in, you put yourself to work, and then politely excused yourself when you needed to run to get to your bus. Sungyoon had gone with you, not keeping it secret from anyone that the two of you were at least friends. Speaking of…

“Do you think they’re dating?” She whispered to the other. 

Soonyoung hoped you weren’t. You were… actually kinda cute? Plus he admired your work ethic a lot, even on your first day. Maybe when things calmed down, he could ask you out to coffee or something. 

“I didn’t see any marks,” the other man said, not bothering to lower his voice any further. “They could be soulmates. They clearly have a history…”

Soonyoung packed his bag and took off. He’d had enough of this. The journey home was uneventful, but Jihoon had picked up on how disgruntled Soonyoung was from the moment he walked in the door. Halfway through his vent session, Jihoon had looked at him.

“Why are you jealous? You just met them.” 

Jealous? Soonyoung was not jealous of anyone. He choked on his own words, unsure of what he could say that was actually convincing. If he denied it, then Jihoon would only believe that he was bullshitting him to try and save face. Yes, you were cute in Soonyoung’s eyes, but he’d only just met you! He’d be a weirdo if he was jealous this quickly! And you wouldn’t want anything to do with him if he was weird. 

“I’m not jealous,” Soonyoung said once he was sure he could say it casually. “I just find it weird that my coworkers care so much. They’re doing a good job.” He paused for a second, “both of them are! Sungyoon is very nice.”

Jihoon was not convinced. Nothing could convince him now, then. “Mhm.” He shrugged. “Nothing wrong with being a little jealous if they’re clearly close. Just don’t let it bother you.”

“I’m not!” Soonyoung felt his face heating up. He wasn’t. He wasn’t bothered in the slightest. It was more-so his coworkers being weird about it. It was weird to speculate, wasn’t it? If you had a soulmate, then good for you. If you didn’t, then… 

Then maybe Soonyoung had a shot.

“A soulmate?” You had looked up, the same man who’d speculated about you and Sungyoon being soulmates having shoved his nose into your business. You blinked, unsure of where this topic had even come from. “No, I don’t have one. I don’t think I do, at least. Is this a part of company business? I told H.R. after I was hired that I don’t have any signs that would prevent me from working, but I didn’t know everyone needed to know this.”

Soonyoung smiled to himself. Yeah, you tell him. It was your business anyway. 

“But what about you and Sungyoon—”

“College friends.” You smiled politely. “We live close to one another, too. I’m not seeing anyone now. Is that all?”

Sungyoon sat at his desk, watching you with this amused twinkle in his eyes. Sungyoon had the same kind of admiration for you that Soonyoung had for his friends, he was positive. He watched the way his coworker slinked off after a moment, apologizing for prying into your personal life as you returned to work. Soonyoung reached down to pull something from a desk drawer, only to feel a familiar zap the moment he did. He’d winced in pain, but it did nothing to dampen his mood. When Soonyoung relayed later the information to his friends at dinner that night, Wonwoo had watched him the entire time, all too aware of how thrilled Soonyoung seemed to be about the whole ordeal.

“Why do you seem so happy?”

Was he happy? He was, kind of. Without being disrespectful, you’d rebuffed the guy and kept most of your privacy in doing so. There were no long drawn out college stories about some adventure you and Sungyoon had while in college, no emotional moments of spilling about how you resented the fact you didn’t have a soulmate. Hell, Soonyoung had no idea how you felt about it. Were you indifferent like him? Did you have a similar situation to him, too, where you had chosen your own soulmates out of your friends?

“They were being disrespected,” Soonyoung had settled on saying. “I’m glad they handled the situation well—”

“He likes them and wants to ask them out,” Jihoon said after taking a sip of his water. “So he’s glad they’re single.”

Soonyoung shoved Jihoon slightly. “That’s not it at all!”

Jun chuckled from his seat, watching the exchange. “There’s nothing wrong with liking them, you know.” 

“There isn’t, but I don’t like them like that. I barely know them. We’ve barely even talked.” Soonyoung rolled his eyes. “How can I like someone I don’t know yet?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “I liked my soulmate before I really knew them. They seemed interesting.” 

“That’s different!” 

“Is it?” Jun shrugged. “I haven’t known my soulmate for long, but I still liked them before we started talking. They seemed nice. You can have a good opinion of someone without knowing them intimately—”

“That’s not the point,” Soonyoung said. “You’re all trying to turn this into something it’s not. I just… I dunno. When I see them, I want to know them more. It’s like they just keep pulling my attention toward them.” He paused, chopsticks in hand as he looked up. “They keep looking at me, actually. It’s kinda funny. I think they might be into me, actually.”

Suddenly, all three of his friends exchanged a look. Soonyoung furrowed his brows. “What?”

And none of them would tell him their thoughts. When he pushed further later as they were leaving the restaurant, Jihoon just waved him off. 

“You’ll figure it out.” 

“Shit!”

Soonyoung looked up at the sound of your voice, soft enough that it didn’t catch everyone’s attention. Sungyoon withheld a chuckle as you glared at him a moment later, and Soonyoung couldn’t help but keep his eyes on the pair of you. You’d wrung out your hand, reaching for your desk drawer as you started to search through it for a highlighter. Soonyoung liked the fact that you always highlighted things in pretty colors—bright green so far, but he overheard you telling another coworker, Seungmin, that you liked to switch out colors every so often. It kept things fresh, and Soonyoung found that cute. Almost as cute as the novelty erasers that you kept on your desk to decorate it, never using them since you always used pens (save for the pencil you kept exclusively for the sticky notes you attached to your computer monitor). 

“It’s not funny,” you had hissed back at him. “This place has a bad static problem… Is the air dry to you? I think dry air makes static build-up likelier.”

“It’s just you.” Sungyoon watched you curiously, glancing over to see that Soonyoung had started watching, too. 

Soonyoung watched the way he slowly reached for a pad of sticky notes, jotting something out. Then he reached forward, attaching it to the top of your monitor. You swatted his hand away, eyes flickering over to see Soonyoung just as he turned his attention back to his own work. Yet the moment he was sure you were looking away, Soonyoung glanced over to see you pulling the sticky note off the monitor. How had he avoided you this long…? Something about getting too close to you made his chest all fluttery. Had he really started crushing on you so easily? Then again, you kinda did make it easy. You were cute in your own ways, and it made it hard to focus most days. Now all he could think about was what Sungyoon had written to you. 

He’d stretched himself over Vernon’s couch that night, playing with a little feather toy that his soulmate’s cat (Nutmeg, apparently) seemed to love. She pounced at it again, and Soonyoung had, yet again, been rambling about his work adventures. 

Vernon plucked another fry from Soonyoung’s leftovers. “Dude. Kinda sounds like there’s something there.” 

“I don’t know,” Soonyoung said. “Maybe I’m being silly. I should ask them out sometime, but they’re still new. It feels weird to do it so soon.” He paused, watching as Vernon slowly began to reach for another fry. “If you’re hungry, then eat. I’m fine.” 

With permission, Vernon immediately pulled over the rest of the leftover fries. “I mean it, dude. Why wait? You like them, they seem to like you, just go for it.” 

… Maybe he would.

But probably not today. Soonyoung had woken up late which, thankfully, wasn’t too bad considering he didn’t live too far from work. Jihoon had been in the kitchen, sliding over a plate of toast when Soonyoung booked it from the room.

“You have that meeting—”

“I know!” Soonyoung grabbed two slices. He’d shove them into his mouth on the run over. “I know—I set an alarm!”

Jihoon looked up, already annoyed, “I know. It woke me up.” 

He’d make it up to him later. He yelled back a casual “love you!” to Jihoon, who only groaned in response, and booked it to the stairs. No elevator today: the complex’s elevator sucked most days, and Soonyoung always reserved it for when he was coming home rather than heading to work. He’d pulled on the wrong pair of shoes considering he had a meeting today. He needed to look nice, and he did, mostly. These were the ones that were a little too broken in, having lost traction against the office floors, and they’d lost their shine a bit. Maybe no one would notice? Hopefully no one would notice. He didn’t need anyone making a comment… or you to think less of him. Were you the kind of person who cared about that kind of thing? He hoped not. As long as you were presentable, Soonyoung wouldn’t think any differently of you. 

He burst through the front doors of the building, yelling out to where you and Sungyoon had just boarded the elevators. He saw the way the two of you looked surprised, eyes wide and brows raised as Soonyoung booked it across the lobby while no one else seemed to think much of it. It was far from the first time this had happened, to be fair: it happened back when he was new, and it kept happening every so often since. Soonyoung, unfortunately for everyone else, was the kind of person who could be loud when he needed to be. Which was good for him, because Sungyoon had taken pity on him and held the elevator doors for him. Soonyoung’s hair was standing on end now. Fuck, when did the building have such a bad problem with dry air? 

Shit, fuck, the floors were against him today. In the split few seconds he had, he’d tried to yell for you to move aside so he could crash against the elevator walls, yet his brain seemed to have turned to pudding. He felt this subtle pull forward, which he once thought was gravity as he nearly tripped over the elevator threshold and into you.

Only for sparks to fly. Literally fly. Sungyoon had crumpled to the floor in pain, howling about ‘what the fuck was that?!’ while Soonyoung only felt this warmth wash over him. You’d been shoved against the elevator wall and were clutching the back of your head (shit, fuck, he’d check on you once his brain caught up to him). Wait.

Wait. Sparks flew. 

You…?

“Dude, what the fuck?” You’d pushed him away, hand still clutching the back of your head. 

Immediately, his brain had finally started fully functioning again. “Shit!” He stepped forward, trying to get a closer look at the back of your skull. No bleeding or visible bruising, but what did he know? “Are you okay? Did you get hurt? I’m sorry, I tried to stop, but—”

“What the fuck was that?!” Sungyoon was still on the elevator floor. The doors slid shut after a moment. 

Quietly, Soonyoung hit the button for the correct floor, just to get things moving. “I… I, uh…”

You stared at him, slowly connecting the dots. “Oh.”

“Did… Did it hurt you?” Soonyoung shyly asked, only to realize he’d been vague. “The sparks.”

You shook your head. “No. But—” You looked at Sungyoon. “Sungyoon, are you okay?”

“I’ll live,” he pulled himself back up. “Of course he’s your soulmate. No wonder you two wouldn’t stop staring at each other…”

Soonyoung had felt a pull toward you, but… He always thought that was infatuation fueling that feeling. There were so many things he’d already wanted to ask you, and yet it felt… weird to say them with Sungyoon there. Were you like him? Had you given up on soulmates even though you wanted one? Or did you not care that Soonyoung was your soulmate? Would you have still liked him if he wasn’t…? He felt like he would have liked you either way, but he would never know for sure now. Then again, maybe he could be okay with not having that answer. If he got to know you better, then he could be happy. Neither of you spoke for the ride up, and he could see Sungyoon debating stopping this elevator ride early to give the two of you space.

Thankfully, he didn’t. But he did book it off the elevator once the doors opened, leaving the two of you two step off together.

“So…” You were a little quieter than normal, never quite looking at Soonyoung for too long. “We’re soulmates.”

He nodded. “Is that okay?”

That earned your attention faster than anything else. “Of course that’s okay. Why wouldn’t that be okay?” 

“I just thought that…” You didn’t seem happy. Then again, he barely knew you.

You shook your head. “Just because I’m used to not having a soulmate doesn’t mean I’m not happy it’s you. I already thought you were cute, so…”

Soonyoung shyly smiled at you, hand brushing against your own. It was enough to get you to stop and face him. “I know we have a meeting soon, but… There’s a little place across the street we could go for lunch. It’ll be my treat, if you want—”

“I’d love to,” you smiled. “I’ll look forward to it, soulmate.”

Soonyoung watched you walk ahead of him, smiling to yourself. Suddenly, he felt a new sense of confidence wash over him as he watched you go. He’d only known you for so long,  but something told him that choosing you was going to be the easiest decision he’d ever made.

(And when he told Jihoon that night, he’d called Jun and Wonwoo immediately to send him the money he’d just won for betting that Soonyoung would figure it out sooner rather than later.)

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

[juvive-1234]

The Stewards and what they represent

A few weeks ago I made a post where I expressed my opinion about the Stewards being a representation of religious trauma. In this post I will be going into a more further and in depth explanation on why I think this.

! Spoilers for dark rise and dark heir !

1 - The stewards being a cult:

The definition of a cult is "a system of religious veneration and devotion directed toward a particular figure or object." You could apply this term to the Stewards who devoted their lives to serving the light and more so the Lady. Everything they do, all the rules they've enforced its all for the Lady. They start their morning off with a chant dedicated to the Lady, they end their day with a chant dedicated to the lady.

It goes beyond just chants, cult leaders typically set rules for their followers. The reason is obviously to assert leadership and keep the control. The main rules the Stewards have are;

You must participate in the morning chants

You must take a vow of celibacy

You must sacrifice yourself when the time is right

Now, lets breakdown how these can control the Stewards and links them to a cult;

Morning chants - In cults, chanting is a mind-altering practice that can be used to break down a person's defences and make them more susceptible to cult ideology. Cult leaders use chanting to direct their followers' emotional and psychological attention to a specific ideology or person - In this case the light side and the lady. This can be dangerous because it can re-wire how the brain works.

Celibacy - Celibacy is the act of one restricting themself from entering a relationship that could be romantic or sexual - in a way, it's abstaining from sex. Cults typically promote the idea of a romantic/sexual relationship being taboo as a way to keep its members from devoting themself to anyone but their cause.

Self sacrifice - Yes, I know. The reasons the Stewards do this is because of the shadow living within them, but dark rise is one big metaphor for all sorts of things (Homophobia, racism, etc...) and so, I believe this act of self sacrifice is more then something for the fantasy plot. It represents how self sacrifice in cults work. Self sacrifice in cults is usually associated with identity fusion - a psychological concept that describes a deep sense of belonging and oneness with a group. This can be the result of intense collective experiences, such as drinking from the steward's cup which of course ruins the drinker's life.

Additional points:

Cults typically wear uniforms - Stewards wear their white/grey/blue uniforms

Cults isolate their members from the outside world - The Stewards are quite isolated from society and only go out when necessary. Their first reaction to Will is enough.

Abuse - Cults typically abuse their members - James. Enough said.

2 - Attempting to destroy anything different then their morals/Brainwashing

Would this really be a Juvive post without the Novitiate trio? This time, I'm going to use them to explain how fast a cult's opinion can change.

When Will and Violet are spending their first day at the hall, Emery and his friends are the only three people - Novitiates more specifically - who willingly talked to Will and Violet. The duo is usually seen with them and the three explain their traditions to the two. The time skip from chapter 14 to 15 is two (?) months, and during that time I want to bet money Will and Violet continued being Emery, Carver and Beatrix's friend.

Of course, it all goes to hell when Violet is outed to be a lion. When the army of Stewards corner Will and Violet, Carver is in that crowd. Yes, he's a Steward. Yes, he's following duties. Sure, but he didn't even try to rebuttal the higher powers? Didn't try to stand up for Violet? Carver knows Violet and Will are good people, his friends are friends with them- HE'S friends with them. All this is to say that Carver changed his opinions faster than the speed of light.

Why though? How though?

Simple, brainwashing.

The ideas of the Stewards were being jammed into his head since he was young. He's been training to be a Steward for years. He was taught lions were terrible beings. His opinion was not even his own, it was the Stewards. It was forced into his mind. If you don't believe me, brainwashing is defined as the process of compromising someone's freedom of choice and action by altering their perception, motivation, or behavioural outcomes. 

Makes sense now, right?

3 - Leadership

Jannick.

Actually, that's not enough. He deserve more.

3.5 - Jannick.

I hate this fucker.

You can associate this guy with being leaders of the cult. A cult leader is the leader of a group that requires unwavering devotion to a set of beliefs and practices - The lady and the light side in this case. Cult leaders are often described as pathologically narcissistic, and may be narcissists.

Let's break him down:

Jannick:

Called his son a "catamite" in front of hundreds of people - Shows lack of empathy which is a trait narcissists have

Implied that he pushes/pushed all three of his sons to the absolute limit and pushed them to be perfect. In the book he does show that he had a desire to be a Steward - Shows both need for admiration and envy, two traits shared with narcissists

"That thing is not my son." - Shows arrogance and just being a dick, arrogance is a trait narcissists have

While the Elder Steward is technically the leader of the Stewards, Jannick seems to have more power and influence over certain things.

Wrap up

In summary, I do believe the Stewards represent a more deeper meaning then what has been shown to us. They're a metaphor. A metaphor for a cult and religious trauma.

Thank you so much for reading. Take care you yourself, ok?

[veintrry]

THE HEAT THAT WARMS MY HEART.

diluc before he realises how he feels for you.

tagz: gn!reader, fluff, hcs, drabble, they/them prns used (but they're literally like used once so 😭), nothing about the readers appearance is specified expect hair but that's only an if.

an: THIS ONES FOR MY MAN DILUC BCS HE GETS WRITTEN OFF AS A COLD MF TOO OFTEN 💯💯 but seriously he's such a sweetheart it kills me. me writing this at midnight with my eyes popping out of my sockets like a lunatic.

Diluc who doesn't even notice how the corners of his lip quirk up whenever he hears you talk, listening to you ramble about an event as you stay seated at Angel's Share. Your voice soothing him as he works his magic behind the bar, making drinks and offering an ear to people and an eye to the bard and his growing bill. But you make it bearable and make his heart softer that he might just forgive the bard for his bill if he keeps prompting conversations with you.

Diluc who offers to help you train, duelling you with wooden swords, rid from his black wool coat, his arms bare as he dons his sleeveless white button up. He ensures to not injure you, however he does dedicate himself to training you properly, making you feel as though you were in a real duel. He makes sure you take breaks, he prepares drinks and food from Good Hunter and Dawn Winery just for the two of you as you chat over lunch. He gives you tips and advice, helps your form, ties your hair up (if it's long or gets in your way). And even though he seems so composed he feels his heart thump the closer you are and he thinks maybe it's the thrill of the fight, or the proud he feels recognising your improvement, but he can't explain why he feels so light when he takes care of himself so well and why his breath stops when you compliment his swordsmanship or his teaching skills.

Diluc who writes you letters back regarding your concerns for him on his trips away from Mondstadt, cleansing your worries and reassuring you'd he be back and bring you something as well. He who roams town's, markets, villages and buys something instantly the moment it reminds him of you. He who searches for flowers that only grow in the soil of their land to send to you so you too could appreciate their beauty and be enraptured by it just as he is by you. He who spends ages re-reading your letters, his eyes glazing your writing and it's detail that made it unique before his eyes glue to your name, signing it off.

Diluc who is at your door when he notices how he hadn't seen you all day. Who comes with medicine, groceries, including the small things you like. He who offers you a room at the Winery so that you'd have people tend to you and so he can make sure you aren't overworking yourself too hard and even though he's the one that suggested it the idea of knowing he'd be waking up in the same place as you, only a few spaces apart makes him slightly nervous on how you'd perceive him. He who whenever you need comfort is the first to be there, not even having to say any words, only pulling you into his warmth and letting you release yourself.

Diluc who's brother is first to notice his behaviour towards you, causing him to look at the redhead with a knowing look, a glint in his eyes that told the coated man that he not only knew something, but it was something that Kaeya found to be useful information. Though, they are brothers, so after he hints at the the underlying truth he'll tell Diluc outright when you're not around. "Can't I be happy for my brother?" his voice teasing as he beckons the older boy to press further. "What is there to be happy for?" A raise of his brow is in unison with his apparent confusion. Kaeya has to hold back a laugh though it creeps into his smile and when he speaks again his eye meet directly with crimson gems,

"Luc', You like them."

And everything stops for a while as he registers it. And though he wishes to say that he is upset that his brother is the one to have been the reason for his realisation, he can't help but feel a bit joyful to know he harbored such feelings for you. Things slightly made more sense now.

[kirric-the-fan]

Artwork of my Love Bullet OC Koiro, commissioned from @4spaceknights- they're not on tumblr, but you can find their twitter here !

Koiro, cupid oc

- Koiro is a traditional cupid. She’s a bit of a loner who goes around doing her own thing and will just turn up from time to time. She’s been a cupid for a very long time, one of the old ones, old enough that Kanna and the others aren’t exactly sure how long she’s been around. They have theories, but then she’ll drop something like “And that’s what they said when they invented the cannon,” into the conversation and they’ll have to re-evaluate everything.

- She's quite imposing, and has no truck with this whole modernisation thing. She thinks the modern cupids have lost a lot of the art in their work. Spends about 90% of her time with other cupids glaring at and judging them for their weapon choices and such. Is hard to get along with and isn’t that fun to be around. Too much of a workhard. Stubborn. Uptight. Snobby. Thinks they represent everything that a cupid should be and could probably do with an attitude adjustment, but we love her anyway.

- Has a surprisingly cordial relationship with Kanna. Ena has beef with Koiro’s opinions on weapons and will air her disagreement at any opportunity, particularly in the bow vs sniper rifle department. Chiyo makes herself scarce. Something about not being able to hear Koiro coming. (She may have gotten on the wrong side of her in the past.)

- I hc that Kanna convinces Koiro to tutor Koharu as a tag-along apprentice for a day kind of thing. Koiro takes Koharu to learn archery, and then on to a target, which turns out to be an older person, who, while Koharu is initially surprised, she agrees that they deserve their second chance at love too. Koiro doesn’t say it outwardly, but Koharu made a good impression on her because she listened, and wanted to learn. Most other cupids don't make the effort, or don't understand where she's coming from. Becomes stoically protective of Koharu. In the 'I'm not looking after you, but I will sit here and keep the rain off you with my wing whilst you're sleeping' way.

- A big part of Koiro is that she is completely devoted to the goddess. And I mean Completely. Devoted, heart and soul. This is because, due to a quirk of her past, she actually fell in love; and with the goddess herself no less. Koiro’s been around long enough that when she was first made a cupid, they could still fall in love. This was stopped because it caused too many problems, but while all the other cupids from that time have moved on, she’s still working to earn the enormous amount of karma that might allow her to get the goddess to reciprocate her feelings. Maybe. Very few other cupids know about any of this though, so her dedication just comes across as her being single minded, uptight, and grumpy.

- Her love borders on obsession, and she’s been enough of a pester about it in the past that all the pigeons and doves now avoid her as much as they can. As messengers of the goddess, they straight up got tired of being asked to send the goddess love letters all the time. This does mean that Koiro’s arrival anywhere is heralded by the rapid departure of the birds, which can leave quite an impression on the newbies.

- She doesn’t like guns, but she did get fed up of being disarmed in disputes, and now has a smaller speargun-like secondary weapon concealed about her person. She only ever uses against upstart cupids ofc. She still has standards to uphold.

I have posted more about her in this post here

Extras:

- Yes I subscribe to the 'hair colour relates to how they died' train of thought

- The Kanna=goddess theory has funny but heart wrenching consequences for this oc because she just does not see it. Imagine searching all your life for a way to connect with the person you fell in love with, only to realise that you never noticed when they were right there.

[moremaybank]

THIS LOVE (IV) — j.m

pairing actor!jj maybank x actress!reader

chapter summary you're set to turn down your management team's proposal, but a familiar face pops up and changes your decision. the plan is set in motion, and jj begins to move into your house. upon his arrival, you two share a moment that quickly turns sour and drives you away from him further.

warnings luke maybank (bleh), a trip and fall, an almost-kiss, language. let me know if i've missed any! [4.5k]

recommended listening daddy issues by the neighbourhood, nights like this by kehlani

this love — the complete playlist ;; the masterlist ;; the tag list

❝ CHAPTER FOUR ❞

Y/N

You press the lock button on your car keys, hearing the doors click. You make your way through the parking lot of Floyd Management. You’re about to tell Josh and Andrea that you’re saying no. You just can’t imagine having to embark on this journey with someone who left you with so much pain that it drowns out all the good times.

Contrary to what everyone may believe, this was not a rash decision. You chewed on it, going back and forth for days about whether or not you should just suck it up and agree to this fake relationship nonsense for the sake of the movie and the opportunities it might bring you. But then you thought about having to spend most of your time by the side of the man who broke your heart, kissing him and acting as if you’re in love with him. Re-connecting with JJ made your wounds feel so fresh again, and jumping on board with this plan would only add salt. 

And it’d sting.

You’re halfway to the entrance when you hear the voice of someone you never thought you’d have to deal with ever again. 

“Hey, there, sweetheart. You sure have done well for yourself.”

The hairs on the back of your neck rise, and you instantly grow cold. You shut your eyes and take a deep breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to come.

“What are you doing here, Luke? Shouldn’t you be in prison?” 

Luke rounds your body so he can speak to you face to face. He raises a hand to toy with a strand of your hair but you flinch, backing away immediately and keeping your distance. All he does is laugh softly.

“You’ve definitely grown up. Interested in taking the original Maybank for a spin? Promise I’ll make it worth your while.” His voice drops an octave and it makes your skin crawl.

“You’re disgusting. Get out of my way before I call the cops.”

“What are you gonna tell ‘em, darlin’? That I spoke to you?”

You stay silent, knowing that he’s right. He technically hasn’t done anything, and you’d simply look foolish.

“Why are you here?”

“I’m here for you. I have a proposition for you, actually,” he says. 

“Oh, yeah?” You ask. “And what’s that?”

“I want you to help me take JJ down.”

You scoff. “I’m not helping you with anything.”

“You will if you don’t want me to release that sex tape of his and put an end to his career.”

You want to be surprised, but you aren’t. Luke Maybank has never been one to change or reflect on the mistakes of his past. He usually chooses the route of making more, and they’re always worse. And your sentiments weren’t just based on hearsay. You watched JJ go through all the misery caused by Luke. Had cleaned up the cuts and iced the bruises. Taken him to the hospital when his injuries were more than you could handle. You’d cook meals for him, bring an extra bag of lunch to school. Let him stay at your house when they’d shut off the power, water, and anything else they could thanks to Luke not paying the bills. He was an awful person, through and through, and though you were more than upset at JJ for how he scorned you, it’d never be enough to work with his father. 

“You know, all you ever did was make JJ feel small. You dedicated your life to drugs, alcohol and jail time, and you know what JJ got out of it? A mother who abandoned him thanks to your oh-so charming ways, and a father who did him more harm than good by sticking around. I wouldn’t help you if you were dying on the street,” you spit, shoving past him and trying to enter the building. 

“Then you can kiss your little costar goodbye.”

“Are you coked out right now? Or just delusional? I’m not going to let you do this to him. End of discussion,” you respond. 

“Well, you’d better hope JJ pays me and those girls that hush money. ‘Cause you know I’ll come to collect.”

-

JJ hurt you. The damage he’d done to you was once considered irreparable. It’d taken you years to work through that anger and betrayal and you still weren’t even a hundred percent there. But working with Luke? That was simply a line you’d never cross.

You ride the elevator to Josh’s floor, and once you reach it, you make a dash for the waiting area outside of his office. You spot the blonde you’re desperately in pursuit of instantly.

“I need to talk to you,” you blurt rather loudly. You don’t realize how booming your voice actually is until you realize that everyone else in the room is staring you down with confusion and shock written all over their faces.

JJ gets up from his seat and pulls you gently into a secluded area.“You didn’t need to come all the way down here to turn Josh and Andrea’s proposal down. I get that you don’t want to help me. I mean, why would you after what I did?”

“JJ—”

“No, it’s okay. Seriously, I did it to myself, and—”

You can’t wait any longer. “I saw Luke.”

JJ goes quiet immediately upon hearing those words. He’s so in shock that he doesn’t answer you right away.

“Did— Did you know that he was here?” You question, though you know the answer. You doubt he knew, because if he did, he wouldn’t be as quiet as he is at this moment.

He shakes his head slowly, “Nah…Nah, I didn’t.” He visibly chews on his words before hesitantly speaking again. “Did he…hurt you?”

“No, no. I’m fine. Just in shock.”

He nods. “He say what he wanted?”

You moisten your lips, and your eyes abandon his. “He wants me to work with him…help him destroy your career.”

“Right,” he nods, crossing his arms. “Of course he does.” 

You watch him pace down the hallway, but not too far, holding his head in his hands. 

“Goddamn it!” He bites out. The JJ you used to know would’ve punched through the wall in front of him by now, and you can tell that the current JJ wants to, but he holds himself back. Once he calms himself down a tad, he turns back to you. His steps are large, helping him make his way to you quickly. “Where is he? I’m gonna kill him for going near you, and then I’m gonna kill him again for trying to fuck with my life.”

“JJ, don’t. He’s not worth the energy,” you say, trying to talk him down from the ledge he’s on.

His hands come to rest on your shoulders. “Y/N, he approached you. He could’ve hurt you. And I wasn’t even there to…” he pauses, taking a breath, “to protect you.”

Your eyes dart away from his once again as your body tenses at his touch. He senses your discomfort, and pulls away from you immediately. “Uh,” he clears his throat, “Sorry.”

You shake your head, “No, it’s— it’s fine. You’re shaken up. And understandably so.”

Your eyes cautiously find his again once you find the courage, and you can see that he’s trying not to crumble. You know hearing his name alone is terrorizing, and now that he has to deal with Luke trying to rip away everything he’s ever worked for…your heart hurts.

“I wanna help you.”

JJ’s head instantly shakes, notifying you of his disapproval. “No. I don’t want your pity. I’ll be okay, I’ll figure this shit out. It’s my own fault that I’m in this mess anyway.”

“It’s not pity, JJ. I might not be thrilled to work with you or about what you did, but…I’d never knowingly let Luke hurt you.”

“You…you don’t have to do this.”

“I know I don’t,” you tell him. “I want to. But I need you to understand that this doesn’t make things okay. It’s just about work. Business. It can’t be anything more than that.”

“Well,” he says, proceeding with an immense amount of caution. “Will you at least let me tell you what actually happened that day? It’s tearing me apart, Y/N/N.”

For the first time since you’d seen him again, your heart warms at his use of your childhood nickname. You missed it terribly, and you partially wanted to slap yourself and bring yourself back to reality. You’re scared. He’s starting to make the walls you’ve spent so long putting up crack just by speaking to you and having that ache in those damn blue eyes.

“I’m not…I’m not ready, and I definitely don’t want to rehash everything right before we do this. Let’s just go into this meeting, tell everyone that we’re on board and take things one step at a time.”

“But, Y/N—”

“JJ, please don’t make this any harder for me.”

JJ looks into your eyes, and you hate it, but you both know you’re on the verge of falling apart. “Yeah. All right.”

-

“You know, if you weren’t paying us to do damage control, JJ, I’d say that you were trying to kill me.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“Not that I’m his biggest fan, but this isn’t his fault. It’s on Luke. He’s always been selfish like this,” you add, trying to ease the prominent frown lines on Josh’s forehead.

Josh nods, “Yeah, I know. But I just don’t know how we go about this now. I mean, if we pay the hush money, there’s still a ninety-nine percent chance that Luke leaks the tape.”

“Then maybe we release it ourselves, like you and Andrea said,” you suggest. “That way, we can control how the public views it, and Luke won’t be able to hang it over our heads anymore. He’ll have nothing.” 

“Great,” JJ huffs, running both hands through his hair. “Now everyone’s gonna know I’m an ass.”

“Some of us already know that.” You earn a laugh from Josh, and a small smile from JJ to which you return. The both of you know that you’re half-joking, so nothing is taken too seriously. “For real, though. We explain to the media how Luke orchestrated the whole thing. It’s not the perfect solution, but it’s better than them getting to the public first.”

“All right, well, I have to talk to Andrea and get everything sorted out, but we need to get a head start on moving you two in together. My guess is that you’re going to need a few days to get used to being in each other’s lives again, especially if we want the public to believe that you two are in love. Oh, and we need to get a press conference planned so we can release your porno.”

“Can we not call it a porno?” JJ asks, half-heartedly glaring at him.

“It’s funnier that way.” JJ rolls his eyes, and you can’t help but snort. “Andrea and I will ensure that you know what you’re going to say about it.” 

“Nah. I got this. I’ll run it by you guys, but I know what I’m gonna say.” 

While they’re speaking about their upcoming plans, your heart is about to burst right out of your chest, and not in a good or exciting way. Pretending to love someone is one thing, but pretending to be in love with someone who you were enamoured with for over a decade after getting your heart stomped on by them…let’s just say it’s a completely different ball game. Yes, you’d convinced yourself that helping JJ was the right thing to do, mostly because you feared what Luke would do to him if you didn’t. But it’s now dawning on you that this is no longer just about filming a movie. Now you two are going to be watched constantly, even more so if everyone believes that you’re in a relationship. And not only that, but the tabloids will be inserting themselves into it constantly, which will more than likely complicate things. That was proven when JJ made his declaration to the world.

JJ notices the worry flash over your face as your mind wanders. “Hey, are you sure we need to move in together, like, right now? Isn’t it a little soon?” 

“Well it’s not like we can spring you forth into the public when you can barely hold eye contact for a minute. They’ll never believe that you two are together. So, yeah. I’m sure.”

“So…when will this all be happening?” You ask. You aren’t even sure if they can hear you, because you can’t hear yourself. The only thing your ears are picking up on is a high pitched ring brought on by your nerves.

“As soon as possible. I’m thinking by the end of the week. But it all depends on which one of you is fine with moving the other one in.”

Your eyes widen at the possibility of having to move into JJ’s house. You’re sure he has a nice place. It’s not even about that. The thing is, you’re already forcing yourself to go along with this ploy. And now you’re facing the chance of losing the comfort of your home and happy place? 

“We can…we can use mine,” you voice out timidly. 

“No, I can’t let you do that. I’m already dragging you into my mess,” JJ argues, albeit lightly. “I won’t put you out like that.”

“Well, I don’t want to be ripped away from my house and everything I know, JJ. This is already a lot.”

He extends his hand out, like he wants to grab yours and hold it in his they way he used to when he was stressed, but it stutters and falls back into his lap. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Besides, I have a million rooms in there that I never go into anyway. I’m sure you’ll make good use of them.”

He smiles slightly, “You got a game room?”

You know what he’s referring to, and you can’t help but sport your own tiny grin as well. “Of course I do.”

Flashback - Age 15

Y/N

“So, when you get outta here, and you become a superstar and buy an enormous mansion — which better have a bedroom reserved for me, by the way — what kinda rooms are you gonna put in it?”

You snorted a laugh. “What do you mean?”

He sat up from his place on your couch and rotated his body so that his head fell on your lap. He kicked his feet up on the other side, and looked up at you.

“Like, if I got my own mansion, the first thing I’d put in there is a game room. I’m talkin’ a pool table, a dart board, some arcade-style games like Pac-Man. A PlayStation. I dunno, the possibilities are endless. Oh! And I’d have a chess board for sure.”

You gave him a look, trying not to laugh. “You don’t know how to play chess, J.” 

“Hell nah, I don’t know how to play chess. It’ll make me look smart though.”

You hummed in agreement, letting your fingers run through his hair. You watched his eyes close as he relaxed into your touch. He let out an obnoxious moan when you started to scratch at his scalp lightly, and you smacked his chest with your other hand.

“Weirdo,” you mutter.

JJ simply laughs, before grabbing the same hand you’d whacked him with, holding it in his own. “Have you thought about it yet?”

“Thought about what?”

��What kind of rooms you’re gonna put in your house, dummy.”

You think for a moment. Different ideas float around, but then you land on one that you know you’ll make happen for sure. “Probably an entertainment room. Kinda like yours, but it’ll definitely have a big ass screen and comfy reclining seats like at the movies so I can feel like I’m in a theatre while crying my eyes out over my one millionth rewatch of One Tree Hill. It’ll have a mock concession stand, and a popcorn maker. And a Slurpee machine for good measure.” 

“Nice! I’m totally stealing that idea, just, without the whole crying over One Tree Hill part. ‘M not gonna waste my screen on that snooze-fest.”

“Oh, please. You were practically sobbing when Haley left Nathan to go on tour with Chris,” you mock. 

His eyes shoot open and his teasing smirk drops. “I thought we agreed that we’d never speak of that. I was high.”

“High on Naley, that is.” 

“Whatever.”

End of Flashback

“Then it’s settled,” Josh speaks, cutting you out of your daydream. “JJ, provided that Andrea and Y/N’s team are on-board, you’ll move into her house by Friday.”

Damn. Shit just got real.

JJ

It’s Friday, and JJ is now on his way over to your house in a U-Haul truck. He taps along to the rhythm of what he’s listening to on the radio, some Dua Lipa song that he’s certain is in the Barbie movie (and everyone should refrain from asking him how he knows that). The tapping is more mindless as he tries to settle the anxiety he has over this move. He knows that you’re already stretching yourself thin by agreeing to help him. But offering to let him move in to your house? Between this and his past mistakes, the guilt is starting to boil over.

Once he makes it to your gate, he hesitates for a moment before pressing the buzzer. 

“Who is it?” Your voice questions through the speaker.

“It’s J— ” he stammers, before correcting himself. “JJ.” 

So much for playing it cool. He couldn’t even say his name to you anymore.

“Oh, uh, hold on a sec. I’ll let you in. Just pull into the driveway, my security guy will come and help you.”

“Cool.” 

JJ hears a chime, and instantly, the gates begin to open. He drives through them, slowly pressing on the gas as he takes in the front view of your home. It’s fancy, but modest. A testament to you and your personality. 

Then, a tall man with a rather large build emerges from your front door and signals JJ to pull up to him. 

“You JJ?” He asks.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m Y/N’s security guard, Dave,” the man speaks, introducing himself. He’s handsome — not that JJ noticed — and definitely more on the quiet side. “Throw the truck in park. I’ll get it unloaded it for you.”

JJ shakes his head. “Nah, man. At least let me give you a hand.”

“It’s all right. It’s easier this way. Go on inside, I’m sure Y/N will give you the grand tour.”

JJ gives Dave a nod, and approaches your doorway. This is it, he thinks. He enters your home, stepping into the foyer and taking a look around from where he’s standing. His eyes immediately land on two grand staircases parallel to each other, with a luxurious chandelier hanging right in the middle of them. It isn’t on, but thanks to the sunshine bleeding through the ceiling-high windows, it sparkles and casts a magical glow into your home. There was art hanging on the walls, sculptures on the front tables, and flowers that add a pop of colour into the monochromatic room. 

But something JJ can’t ignore is the smell wafting in from your kitchen. The unforgettable fragrance of your signature cinnamon rolls fill his nostrils and instantly take him back to much simpler times. He can practically see you now, with your hair clipped back and your World’s Best Baker apron secured behind your neck and your back. You undoubtedly have flour on your face, and your tongue poking out as you concentrate. 

You’d always been so domestic, a feeling that JJ longed to be around when he was younger. It’s nice to re-experience it now, even in his older age. Especially in his older age. He’s been coming home to an empty and quiet house for years now, and he hates it. It’s hard not to let the loneliness get to him.

As if you’re reading his thoughts, you yourself come through the entrance, just like he envisioned. Hair pulled back from your face, your same old apron attached to you (though it had worn a bit over the years), and a swipe of flour on your cheek. When you come directly in front of him, JJ’s tempted to reach out and wipe your cheek for you. Every time he did so when you were younger, the action never failed to pull a shy smile and heated cheeks from you. But now, he fears that you’ll back away and avoid him like the plague if he acts on his internal desires. So he doesn’t.

“Hey, have you been waiting here for long?”

“Nah. Not at all,” JJ assures you. He motions to your cheek, “You got a ‘lil something there.”

He watches you retrieve your phone from your back pocket and swipe to open your camera. Your mesmerizing eyes widen, threatening to pop out of your head as you scramble to scrub the powdery ingredient off of your face.

“Right,” you clear your throat, putting your phone back into your pocket. “So, uh, why don’t I give you a tour. Show you where you’ll be staying?”

“Sure,” JJ agrees.

“Okay, well, follow me.”

You turn around and begin to walk through the foyer. JJ, slightly distracted (okay, more than slightly) by your figure, stalls for a moment before his brain reminds him that he’s supposed to be trailing you. He takes large strides, catching up to you and praying that you didn’t notice. The two of you make your way around the main level, visiting the kitchen, dining room, living area. You show him the backyard, your pool complete with a swim-up bar and a hot tub. He notices that you have a few surfboards lined up against the wall of the change room and he smiles, happy memories of the two of you cruising the waves together back home flooding his mind. And last but not least, you made it to the room he’d been waiting for. Your rec room. 

It’s just as you described when you thought it out all those years ago. A huge screen for movies and TV. Rows of theatre-like reclining chairs. A snack bar with a Slurpee Machine. 

Next, you two focus on the gaming section. A colourful glow casts over the room thanks to the arcade machines, and it evokes a sense of nostalgia for JJ. His eyes light up as they trail over Pacman, Street Fighter 2, Super Mario Bros, Sonic the Hedge Hog, and Mario Kart. But the twinkle in his eyes lights up further when he sees Dance Dance Revolution in the far corner. 

“Hey, remember how we used to dominate at DDR back home? We massacred John B and Pope every time.”

You nod, the recollection of those times pulling at your heart strings. Still, you’re afraid of thinking too deeply on them. “Yeah, well, that was a long time ago. And they aren’t here, so, I doubt it’d be as fun without them.”

JJ gives you an earnest look. “I get it, things are different now. But we live together now, Y/N. I want us to be able to get along. I don’t want us to feel like we have to avoid each other all the time, and I’m also not planning on spending the next couple months arguing with you every day. Maybe…maybe we could have fun. Make this whole arrangement bearable.” 

“JJ, it’s not that simple,” you say. 

He leans in, his voice soft. “I know it won’t magically fix everything, but we can try, right? For both of us?”

You gaze into his eyes, seeing a glimmer of sincerity. Sighing, you reluctantly give in. “Fine, but don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

He smiles triumphantly. “Wouldn’t dream of it, princess.”

The two of you step onto the dance pad, and JJ chooses a song. Slide by Calvin Harris pulsates through the room. Your movements synchronize as you dance, and soon, laughter is spilling out of your mouths and mixing in with the song. JJ can’t help but look at you for a moment, all smiley and happy in his company for the first time in weeks. It’s nice to see you letting loose around him, finally. Unfortunately, things quickly go south when his foot falters, and he stumbles, pulling you down with him. You crash onto the floor in a tangle of limbs, and JJ lands on top of you. 

Your faces are mere inches apart, your breaths mingling. For a fleeting moment, time stands still, and it feels like before. It’s like he’s been transported back to your adolescent years, still best friends and teetering back and forth on the line between best friends and something more. And just when he inches closer, debating on closing the gap between you, you scramble to get up, gently rolling him off of you and making a beeline for the door. 

“Y/N, wait!” He calls after you. He practically has to chase you down the hallway. He reaches out, fingers gently circling your wrist and stopping you from getting any further. “I…I thought we were having fun?”

“Fun?” You ask, your tone seeped with indignation. “JJ, you tried to kiss me! I should’ve known this was all some ploy of yours to get into my pants again. God, I should’ve known better.”

“Wait, what? Y/N, that’s not what this was,” JJ defends. “That whole game thing…I was trying to reconnect with you. I never meant to bring up the past for you and hurt you again.”

Your eyes avoid his, and he knows you’re too scared to look into them. He’d reach out and hold your head in his hands the way he used to, gently force your gaze onto him so you can see his vulnerability, but this isn’t the past. You don’t trust him the way you did before. Hell, you don’t trust him at all. So his hands remain at his sides.  

“I’m willing to try. I’m willing to earn back your trust, to show you that I’ve changed. But you gotta give me a chance. Please, Y/N, just give me a chance.”

You ignore his declaration, and his plea. “I’ll have Dave show you to your room. The bed’s all made up, so you shouldn’t have to do much.” 

JJ watches you walk down the hallway. “Where are you going?”

“Out. I have to get out of here.”

JJ wipes a hand over his face, letting out a sigh of frustration. He was finally getting somewhere with you. Things were looking up. But in a flash, they all went downhill, and now, he’s slowly losing faith. 

Good thing that isn’t going to stop him from fighting.

TAG LIST (JOIN HERE!): @mvybanks @jjsbank444 @softherveauxs @pankowperfection @rafesveryrealgf @dreamingwithrafe @maybankslover @tell-me-when-ur-ready @goblink1ng666 @sickyrat @la-neveritayque @dilvcv @obaex @love-ualways @em0-b0ysworld @slytherhoes @lanabrock @cecesrings @princessbetsy123-blog @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @maybank-archives @whoisdrewstarkey @aliyahsomerhalder @vigilanteshitposting @poppet05 @adoreyouusugar @f4ll-for-you @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @bbycowboi @enhypens-hoe @loverofdrewstarkey @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptheimagines @maybanksbabe @sarah5462 @slut4drudy @lvvrgrl @dancinglikeaballerina @somerandos-world @shahanaazsoumah @peachpitlover @emmalandry @blueicequeen19 @l1lactheflower @fairlymax

[pillowbugs]

actually, @claitea 's post re: the shadow triad awoke an old idea i had slumbering in the back of my mind. it's the (canonically disproven) 'striaton trio as shadow triad' theory, though, so it isn't exactly canon-compliant.

imagine, if you will, three orphans. triplets. they have no parents - none, but for a man seeking young children to aid his purpose. easily malleable, with a deep gratitude, for he is their saviour; that can be further deepened, further sharpened into his blade. from this moment on, they will be his loyal soldiers; the shadow triad.

they don't need names. they don't remember having any names before ghetsis found them, and he had already done so much for them, giving them a roof over their heads; it would be too much to ask him to spend more effort on picking names for them, too.

as for all siblings, however, the order of their birth is important in deciding who gets to boss the other two around, gets to take the fall for their younger siblings, and so they just pick the most efficient names. one, two and three. oldest to youngest. easy for everyone to remember.

though, the distinction is unimportant to everyone but themselves. one is cold and calm, best at assassinations; two is fiery, best at spreading terror - and, relatedly, their dedicated arsonist; and three helps cover their escapes, with various powders and traps and poisons.

they're always a team, however, so who does what is irrelevant in practice. they are one unit. everyone treats them as a collective; the shadow triad.

perhaps, if one had looked closer, had bothered to learn the differences among triplets, they would've realised that three's role almost never involved killing, only supporting - the other two, and above all lord ghetsis.

and perhaps, then, they would've predicted -

imagine, the shadow triad, sent on their first major mission at the age of thirteen. their target is a train station; their purpose, to cause panic. to pick out those who would resist team plasma in the future, to eliminate them before they become a problem.

three - or the man who once was three - will tell you, as he told his siblings then, that it was because he liked trains and couldn't bear to destroy them, that he got cold feet, that he begged to his siblings, kneeling before them, please, i can't do this. we can't do this.

but really, it was something more; truly seeing the world outside the castle for the first time, seeing all the people and their pokémon, living happily together. the world outside, three realises, is full of kindness; not the bleak, cruel world that lord ghetsis said he had saved them from, that he would change.

they are cruel to a world that was cruel to them. but when the world greets them with kindness, friendly passengers extending a helping hand to three young teens they don't even know - what then?

one and two cover for him that day. and regardless, their bomb threat is foiled; there had been quite a few experienced trainers on board who had fought them off, and then disarmed the bomb. three wonders, if not for his hesitation, would they have succeeded instead?

the doubt grows within him, as he watches one take the blame for their failure, punished personally by lord ghetsis; as two grows more distant, more anxious to help support one better - perhaps, they had already realised it; all three of them have trained to be one unit of the same mind. (not hard enough, for why else would three be the only one to waver?)

three is not suited for team plasma. he knows this. he knows that ghetsis had taken him in for a purpose, a role, one he knows he will never fulfill. and really, it doesn't matter that he isn't with his siblings; one is the perfect assassin, ghetsis' right hand. by that logic, two is his left hand, and three -

three is unneeded. he is only a burden to his siblings, holding them back, the reason they had failed, the reason they were punished. he cannot be part of team plasma. he does not want to be part of team plasma.

defecting from lord ghetsis' cause means death. and three is a coward - he must be, to waver at the realisation of the deaths he would cause, of the suffering he would exact on innocent people. so, when he leaves, with nothing but the clothes on his back and his pansage - the one pokémon that has always been with him, who stuck with him when he forgot kindness, and will stay with him as he relearns it - he writes notes to those he will be leaving behind.

lord ghetsis, i have failed. i can serve you no longer, for my ideals have strayed. i have punished myself accordingly, by the time you will be reading this.

one, two, i'm sorry. i'm too weak to fulfill lord ghetsis' vision. i have failed, and dragged you both down with me, time after time. you both know that i could never stomach the full extent of our role, and you covered for me then. you've sacrificed so much, all because i could not go through with the orders i was given. hopefully, i will never be a problem for you both again. i have punished myself as is fitting for my crime. please, stay alive. stay safe.

as he leaves the castle, climbing out of the tunnels beneath the pokémon league, he looks toward the building, for a moment; he contemplates telling the champion - if he's around, or if not, the elite four - about the castle beneath theirs, and its lord. but he quashes the thought quickly - for one, it's unlikely they'll believe him, as all humans that he knows of are skeptical of things such as this, of him; and if they believed him, they would go on the assault, without mercy, and then one and two would be caught in the crossfire. would be expected to die.

so, he turns away, and climbs down the cliffs, towards a new life. away from team plasma, away from everything he's known. he is free, he realises, for he can no longer be part of the shadow triad, can no longer be three.

for the first time, he thinks about names; about what he'd like to call himself, and he comes up with something quite quickly. it doesn't mean anything, but he likes it. and really, he has no one to question him now.

three is dead. cilan is alive. cilan is free.

[vavoomed-for-crowley]

Since everyone is sharing their experience with meeting David Tennant, here's my story:

Of course, I was just as nervous to meet him as most people but I was able to steady myself before it was my turn by taking a few breaths (just because I tend to be nervous at eye to eye conversations in general). In the end, I had to re-do my Photo-Op with him three times because of my glasses and felt really bad for the people in line having to wait even longer because of me. Which is why I was so nervous the third time, that I broke off a part of my Sonic Screwdriver while trying to pack away my glasses. I apologized while fumbling with the screwdriver to not waste any time and he was so kind, said it's okay and already placed a hand on my back while I did so. We did a pose where we both hold the screwdriver together and it's such an amazing picture. Our hands even form a heart, which was not on purpose but it's such a cute detail. In the end, I was able to look into his eyes again and apologize once more (for taking so much time when actually, that was not a problem to anybody. As my therapist would say, the stress is just made up by my head).

At the end of the day, I went to get this photo signed and I was first in line. Which I was not prepared for. The first thing I said to him was that I hope he gets to enjoy the day here despite his schedule. Which, for some reason, made him look up at me in surprise. He then said he does and I handed him the bracelet I made. A rainbow bracelet that says "Ally" and told him it's a thank-you for all his support of the community and that he helps many people with this, like @ineffable-ezra (Yes, I mentioned you like I had promised). He looked at it and said "Thank you so much! I really appreciate this!" He did not smile. He just looked genuinely thankful.

Sometime later, I saw that he forgot the personal dedication. Which was okay but everyone else had one so I went back to the line and asked if it would be a problem to get the dedication real quick. You must know, his schedule was already delayed and I didn't want to cause any more stress. And it was okay. The fan that was in front of me, talked to him a bit too long but his manager didn't interrupt them nonetheless, even though time was running out. Afterwards we got told that they don't want to be rude but he has to get to the airport. So I just said I'm sorry to be here again (like, how many times do I get in the line again because something goes wrong) but he forgot the personal dedication. And he looked so surprised! "I forgot to write your name? I'm sorry!" Told him it's okay and that it was lovely to have him there and that I hope he enjoyed it.

The thing is, when I read other stories, most people made more out of their time with David. But if you know how stressful a few minutes of delay can be for the entire schedule, you don't want to cause any more trouble. And I really tend to worry myself too much with thoughts like this.

David was so kind nonetheless and didn't let me feel like he was stressed (even though he rushed out to get his flight at the end of the day).

I'm just very grateful I got to meet him at all. He was so kind. Of course I wish I could've or would've said some more. Like I wanted to tell him I hope the bracelet fits because I wasn't sure about the size and such things... But for someone with a neurodivergence, I just need my few seconds of preparation which I haven't had. And when I think about it, it's the small details I enjoy so much nonetheless. His surprised look when I said I hope he enjoys the day, like this question was really unexpected for him or the gentleness when I was nervous and genuine appreciation for the bracelet.

We all know he's a sweetheart but I think events like this truly show how lovely he really is.

[poppyandzena]

did you know Courtney closely at all? bfeore you got banned i mean

I was never really close. We exchanged a few cordial dms and talked amongst a sea of randos that honestly should not have been in that server.

I do have nuggets of wisdom from observation. There are two reasons the Anti-LO efforts have seen little fruitfulness (in public). One is out of their control–Lily is a NEET at heart and can only suffer consequences to her already dwindling online reputation. The second is a lack of organization, at least on Courtney's side.

Courtney set up a poorly crafted server with NO gatekeeping, with an assortment of filler channels and two drama channels. The LO channel and the PZ channel were the most populated. I've touched on this before, but you cannot discuss LO or PZ without eventually talking about graphic sexual content.

I found out through hindsight that minors were engaging the most in those two channels. I recalled there being lock icons on certain channels. After looking back through convos of me lamenting the lack of moderation, only Venting and the infamous 18+ Smoke Room had a lock icon on them. It is now known that minors could see this 18+ chat. I didn't engage in this chat, though brief glimpses didn't reveal anything scandalous to my memory. It was a bunch of people talking dumb shit while smoking dumb shit.

I remember bringing up in the server that the LO and PZ channels should have been age gated. I won't take credit for this idea; many others asked for the same thing. Courtney always countered that "there are minor victims of [LO and PZ] who should have a space to be heard."

That was not what those spaces served. They were endless circlejerk sessions of rage that had to be "shut down" for certain time periods by Courtney because people refused to let the convos end. This was the only official attempt of Courtney moderating the server aside from half-assed interventions as attested in the new document. Over the course of months she eventually stopped enforcing "time out time." I assume shortly after November it petered out. I stopped engaging in the server due to my discomfort but asked a more active user who confirmed the info.

Did I participate in the circlejerk? Yes. The opportunity to bitch is ever-seductive, but I stopped after November 2023 and felt more clear-minded. I re-prioritized, which you can see in my blog archives.

I should have put up a bigger fuss. Something that is seldom talked about is how someone's victimhood impacts their overall perception. Courtney not only had this halo effect, but also a growing collection of members who were also too uncomfortable to speak up and more endeared to her than I was, most of them being minors.

The Anti-LO community as spearheaded by Courtney was doomed to fail. Her server(s) were never engineered for efficiency, rather made to be an endless well of bitching meant to waste your time.

Attempts to incentivize content creators to the cause flopped until recently with Joon The King's coverage and smaller channels, but even then Courtney couldn't help but blow it up and possibly scare the once eager Youtubers into avoiding anything to with LO's more incriminating accusations. It's a shame, because this isn't just a one person effort. At least a dozen people are dedicated to helping victims of Lily Orchard. Having Courtney to deal with as you're trying to organize properly sounds like a Sisyphusian nightmare. I hope they stick together, minus Courtney, and push through. Their progress is still progress despite the struggle.

[fiyaerrigan]

Re: this post

"Reply with an emoji and I'll dedicate a post to the corresponding fic! [...] Don't feel like typing in an emoji? Just type in what the emoji represents and I'll count that as the emoji! Searching for emojis can be a pain in the ass, so no worries if you'd rather not! <3"

❓️(Mystery/Surprise Fic! probably rated M) (more specifics to be revealed)

@dreaming-marchling

Have a little bit of Buck Having a Time™ in the hospital. It's not nearly whumpy enough to meet my "put blorbo in a jar and shake vigorously" sensibilities, but here you go!

(⚠CONTENT WARNING⚠ for medical setting, implied shitty behavior and referenced trauma)

Buck had gotten used to hospitals—both from time on the job and personal experience. He was accustomed to their weird sterile smells and rotating menageries of staff: from doctors who showed up once in a blue moon, to nurses who were way too comfortable in his personal space, to doctors and nurses and the occasional lab tech who were somehow relatable because they too were running on two hours’ sleep and fifteen hours’ wakefulness; Buck had seen everything E.R. chaos had to offer. Or at least he thought he had, until Doctor Fitzsimmons returned with somebody else. The sight of yet another lab coat piqued Buck’s interest—what could be going on that they needed to bring a whole new doctor in the mix? To someone else, the sight of two doctors striding in the room with absolutely no preamble might have been cause for concern. For Buck, though, it was different. He was practically a seasoned vet when it came to medical settings and scary experiences. He’d learned long ago—maybe somewhere between the first broken arm and the sixth hour spent waiting for his parents—to replace any fear he felt with curiosity, just for the sake of making it through his visit. So Buck was curious, then, that a new doctor had tagged along. He was curious when Fitzsimmons shared a glance with said doctor and scurried past her like he swallowed something bad and the computer was a trashcan from heaven. He was curious when he began clicking around at various windows and continued to look constipated, all without looking Buck’s way for even a second. Eddie coughed loudly. “You know, I wasn’t expecting company,” Buck said, trying for nonchalance. He shot his most winning grin in Fitzsimmons’ direction. “Lemme guess: you saw I brought my friend and got jealous. No worries, Doc.” Here, he laughed, hoping to come off easygoing as he leaned back on the hospital bed— “I totally understand.”

Anywho *throws confetti* ...tada?

If you aren't @dreaming-marchling that means I haven't relentlessly harassed messaged you about this fic and you only know the stuff I've mentioned in descriptions, but *puts on Oliver Stark hat* here's some more vagueness I can throw your way: this fic features one of BT fandom's post-8x06 fixations! (see tags)

I can't control what people choose to read on the internet, but it *WILL* also focus on several heavy topics that aren't suited for young readers, so 🤷 if that applies to you, please for the love of god don't read?

With that in mind, if that doesn't apply to you and you want to be put on a tag list for this fic, let me know by dropping a like! Always happy to hear any thoughts people might have, including constructive criticism! If you want to say anything at all, use the reply box to your heart's content <3

[lgbtlunaverse]

hi i'm off work and love pointless discourse, so i've been summoned lol but definitely delete if you dont find this fun! RE the poll about jc's best partner and co-parent though, i hear the argument for mian mian but still dont agree that being a good parent of one kid equals being a good parent of a future sect leader with so much trauma AND partner to a current sect leader with so much trauma lollll but More importantly than that!! who did you vote for 😂

I'm including a sceenshot that you can check against the current number of votes and remaining time so you can see i'm not lying because I have, in fact, not voted in the poll because I wasn't sure.

Listen, everyone in mdzs has trauma. Mianmian's probably got a shitton of trauma from that one time people literally tried to use her as live bait. No one's gonna fix jiang cheng's trauma, at least no one on this list.

Wen qing's a great doctor but no therapist, though she would make for a great co-leader of a sect and having another 'strict parent' involved (rather than jgy's more indulgent gentle parenting style) might help jc chill out a little.

Ofc jgy himself is also an option: proven to be good at leading a sect, also proven to be a good coparent to jl... are we including the part where yknow he is hunted for all his crimes and dies, though? Because that kinda disqualifies him as ideal candidate.

Xiao xingchen is kind and good with kids, but he is also like... 17 a year after wwx's death which means ahe-wose he's more 'older brother' range to jin ling than "parent" and also he explicitly does not want to stay put. Mianmian only left because of grave moral differnces xxc literally hates the concept of being stuck in a major clan. (Unless the fact that jin ling is heir to jinlintai+jc having no other heirs means he gets to convert yunmeng jiang to that merit-based sect he was dreaming of. Then he'd have a great time.) Unfortunately being stick with a strict idealist tends to not go well for jiang cheng, and if the whole xue yang situation still happens (i do not mean yi city, i mean the part where xxc is the one who hunted him down in the first place) could politically get... very uncomfortable. Especially for jin ling.

Nmj did also already help raise a child buuuut he's proto-suicidal and let's not make jiang cheng a widow.

Wei wuxian already knows and loves jiang cheng, the jiang, and jin ling and would be an ideal candidate if nit for... you know.

Lan wangji is also good at handling a sect plus kids, actually i've read fics with this premise, it's just you do need to dedicate 10K words of plot to get them to stop hissing at each other.

Wen Ning isn't great with politics but likely pretty good with kids, but he has lwj's problem except Even More so cause he genuinely hates jc. Also if jiang cheng is parenting jin ling here that means zixuan and yanli are in fact still dead which means he's out of the running.

Lan Xichen is good at politics plus pretty good with kids and yeah if canon plays out as it does that's pretty rough, but it wouldn't be quite as retraumatizing as what happened to jgy (considering that was lxc has is also just... the trauma of being a part of what happened to jgy) and he and jin ling could bond over that if they were closer. And unlike the previous two options he is at worst neutral to jc in canon.

For all that fanon has Song Lan as A-Qing's second parent he only knew her for like... a few minutes total. Same problem as xxc on the xue yang thing too.

I don't think huaisang or xue yang should raise a child. So I guess congratulations to the xichengers because he's looking like the best option here.

[raichett]

Fic Writer Interview :D

I was tagged for this by @definitelynotshouting :)

How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 101 works on my Minecraft | MCYT account, and 41 on my "every other fandom I'm into" account. That's 142 works published in total!

What's your total AO3 word count?

329,763 on my Minecraft | MCYT account, and 371,183 on my other fandoms account. That's a total of 700,946!! And there is so much more in WIPs...

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Ashes, with 2403 kudos. This is by far my most popular fic, which still astounds me a little as I don't consider it to be my best work. One I'm proud of, sure, but not my best work. Still, seems like it was a hit :D There is also a much, much better version of this fic that lives rent free in my head; of course, it is also a much longer version and I don't currently have the time or energy to dedicate to it :/

Well It's Not Quite Narnia, But -, with 2398 kudos. A deeply silly little rom-com of a Scarian fic. I remember this one very well, because I posted in the morning of the hottest day of the fucking year where the temperature hit a high of 40C in some parts of the UK and I was boiling alive in a trampoline park with no air conditioning while comments were rolling in on my phone's email. The heat was muggy and humid, btw, in case you thought I was getting off clean with dry heat.

Apple Cinnamon Pies, with 1946 kudos. This fic is the first part of an ongoing series btw :D It is also one of the fics that I, as the author, would recommend as part of my fic library. If you like Third Life, and you like Scarian, then I highly recommend you give this one a shot.

Highway Robbery, with 1728 kudos. Okay, so, funny story: this is the first explicitly Scarian fic I ever posted. The scant few earlier fics on the account sat in a "you can interpret their relationship either way, I left it ambiguous" zone, but this one had no ambiguity. A silly little fic with a funny meet cute, really, but quite enjoyable if I do say so myself.

The Day After, with 1656 kudos. Hey so you know those "everyone except Grian forgets Third Life when they go back to Hermitcraft" post-canon fics? This isn't that. This is, in fact, "everyone but Scar forgets Third Life after it's over and they're safe back on Hermitcraft (Scarian edition)" and I would also recommend this one :D

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I used to be very studious about responding to every comment I got, but I've since become a bit more lax. The thing is, sometimes there is no real way to respond to a comment. That being said, I strongly appreciate any lovely comments that get left, and I have a set of the best ones saved so that I can re-read them any time I want <3

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Judging by the tearful reactions in the comments, I'm going to have to say nursed itself well (or died) which is a DSMP fic with a bittersweet ending. Cathartic, and actually probably the best ending for all involved, but even the best possible ending can still be achingly sad 😢😢😢

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Most of my fics have happy or hopeful endings, to be honest, so I wouldn't really know how to measure this one, sorry.

Do you write crossovers?

I want to, but I haven't actually committed yet. I do read them, though.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Oooh boy. In one of my fics for my "other fandoms" account, I wrote a courtroom scene (culminating in the guilty party being able to continue their road to redemption via reparative and restorative justice without denying or minimising the horrors they had caused) where the context was the idea of reparations after a huge and long war in which both sides canonically committed many horrific war crimes.

When this got brought up in the dialogue, just the idea that it takes two sides to make a war and that both had committed horrors (which, I reiterate, is canon), one commenter stopped reading the fic right then and there and came down to call me a genocide apologist without finishing the fic or even engaging in what it was actually saying. That was quite a nasty shock. I have since deleted the whole comment thread because it was just so horrible and ignorant (and I was not the only one who thought that because others replied to that comment), and everyone was being exposed to it.

There was also one other incident of someone being transphobic in the comments of another fic that had a trans character in it, which I deleted as soon as I saw because no one gets to use my fics as platforms for their hate.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Oh, boy, yes I do! More on my "other fandoms" account, I must admit, but most of them tend towards having dom/sub undertones in some way, with a couple of explicitly dom/sub scenes proper. Shout out to that 15.4k tentacle robot smut pregnancy kink (only the kink) pseudo-oviposition oneshot I wrote and didn't even post on anon. That thing shamelessly has my account name on it lmaooo.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge, no.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have! Apple Cinnamon Pies was translated to Chinese, and the next step was translated to Russian.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not really. I've definitely co-planned fics before, but not actually written anything in full conjunction with someone else. I have done some beta-reading for friends, before.

What's your all-time favourite ship?

I don't really have one, to be honest. I'm happily a multi-shipper, and will try anything that strikes my fancy. That being said, I do have a very obvious soft spot for Scarian, and for some other pairings.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I have this fic idea/WIP that I can only really describe as "Scarian but it's Bagginshield" which is a longfic in a fantasy world based off of the Quest for the Lonely Mountain in "The Hobbit" (but not 1:1 with it, and not intended to fit into LOTR worldbuilding). Scar is Bilbo and Grian is Thorin and I don't know if it will ever really be published but know it forever has a place in my heart.

What are your writing strengths?

Worldbuilding is a favourite of mine, and people keep telling me I'm good at it :D In addition, I feel like I do pacing well, and I'm able to convey complex emotional states for characters and how they change and learn and develop their interactions and relationships with each other. My dialogue, especially in the last year or so, has really started to sound like things people would actually say, which I'm happy about.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Balancing more than three characters in a scene 😭 Also I sometimes just totally lose motivation partway through writing something and leave the WIP alone for months or even years.

I have also been known to occasionally write myself into timeline corners by keeping things too vague on my end so I accidently overlap events or by not checking back at previous instalments, though I am getting better at that.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Make sure you get the translation correct, perhaps by asking someone who knows the language to proofread it.

Ensure there is some way for the reader to understand (via hover translation, footnotes, etc.) if the POV character is supposed to be able to understand. If you don't intend for the character and reader to be able to understand, then "the man turned away and said something to his partner in a language [POV character] couldn't understand" suits perfectly fine.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Pokémon, and I'm not ashamed of that.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

The Legend of Zelda! But I do not have time or energy to leap into a whole new fandom right now, not if I want to keep writing for MCYT at least!

What's your favourite fic you've written?

Again, I don't really have one absolute most favourite nothing else compares fic, but if I have to point to something then I do have a soft spot for crown of broken bones, as I feel it's a little underrated and I really enjoyed writing it.

[horizon-verizon]

While B&C is objectively horrifying, I’ve honestly never once felt any emotion when reading it… but Aerea’s death, oh my god, I was completely engrossed and taken back by the hideous, stomach-turning and repugnant description of her death.

👀

Aerea had to have had those fireworms crawl through her still-living body for days. Aerea's death was much more detailed, a lot more gory, and connects to one overarching and critical element, or "layer", of the ASoIaF series: the Targs' legacy with their dragons and the effect of the Valyrian's imperialism over Essos. Aerea's death brought a sense of doom because it alerted us and Jaehaerys of the Targs' vulnerability to forces that their own ancestors probably caused. And the account is very reliable, more so than most F&B accounts and certainly so for the Dance portion of the book. Its relater, Septon Barth, he's the one who tried to treat Aerea. And of all the "Faith-aligned professionals" we ever encountered in this world, he was the most dedicated to impartial study of the people and things around him. (Sincere about it, too, even though he does also factor in a few societal lens...because he still lives in Westeros and is still a septon.) So you know he was writing what he saw impartially.

Why do the Targs' relationship with their dragons & past AND their dragons' future matter? We (should) know and have read ASoIaF and read about Daenerys, how she becomes the Queen that she is meant to be to save the world. We have learned that something can hurt a dragon. We need dragons//fire for the Long Night & protect humanity. The Targs' assimilation into the Andal-FM pre-Conquest culture and subsequent refusal to better & truly incorporate their women into their politics--or just think outside of their own immediate needs for power, even with some being genuinely better people and leaders--have lead up to their own loss of said dragons, then their usurpation. It's a lead up to Daenerys in-world and re-contextualizes her role for the Long Night to come.

*However, reminder, yes the Targs' Conquest and reign still greatly reduced the thousands of years of constant warfare b/t the non Valyrian Westerosi former kingdoms. Two things, true at once.*

Whereas with Jaehaerys, the death served this one story to illustrate how far a specific group of people will go to destroy the other or get the other back for perceived/real wrongs done. Jaehaerys became a victim of a blood feud & another motive to keep that particular blood feud going. It's not even the first death, but a response to another's death done by the greens (Aemond), who decided to usurp the king-chosen heir, a woman, for their own ambitions. He is part of a succession of a drama. And while his 6 fingers generate some curiosity and inquiry as to what effects the magical connection to dragons have on disabilities/congenital conditions being more reduced--which Idk about, since the Westerosi have been marrying their cousins for centuries and most of the nobles we see aren't fugly nor have many congenital conditions to rival the Hapsburgs--this doesn't serve or inform us on the bigger story. Sad and tragic, but in terms of the scales of consequences, it had a simpler effect.

Ironically, he has less narrative importance than Nettles or Mysaria, whom some Rhaenyra & black stans try to argue was "just a plot device" 🙄 to use against Rhaenyra. Both within and out of Fire & Blood. Then there's the business of green stans being so overwrought & talkative over his death than the:

sack of Bitterbridge & rapes/murders (of refugees, of children, septas, old people, etc.)

sack of of Tumbleton & rapes/murders

Dalton Greyjoy's raping women and killing innocent peasants,

etc.

It is perhaps all of these that make Aerea's death seem both more harrowing and "important" than Jaehaerys'. Aerea's death is more shrouded in mystery, Jaehaerys' is not. Her death has a larger narrative purpose compared to his.