#undeserved self-confidence. but self-confidence nonetheless.

[titaswrld]

I have a request for a deadpool fic, if you could make a very angsty story where deadpool thinks he is undeserving of love and never thinks someone in this world would fall for him 😭 he is self-conscious about his looks and never in his right mind it crossed him that he has a chance with the reader, but he would do anything just to feel loved. he's just a constantly depressed ball of sadness, and the only way he copes with his thoughts is his dark humor. while the reader is head over heels for that man, and she's showering him in love, but he only thinks it's because they're friends 😭🫶🏼

monster

description: wade wilson being insecure about his looks, not knowing if the girl he loves would ever love him back.

paring: wade wilson x reader!

contains: angst! with happy ending (i didn’t know how to end it😭)

w.c: 1.2k

|an: finally writing forreals again! i needed to get back into it. thank u for ur request, i hope u like it😇 reader is a baker bc i couldn’t think of a more wholesome career path😭

you’ve known your best friend, wade wilson, for almost a year now. starting off as just occasional friends, hanging out at each other's apartments, watching chick flicks, and eating your weight in junk food until your friendship grew into something deeper, feeling nothing but love and admiration for another and the desire to be something more.

he’s so in love with you; he knows that now. he tried to deny it; he tried telling himself there’s no way, there’s absolutely no way a woman as intelligent, as confident, and as kind as you could ever love a monster like him. He knew you deserved better—a handsome, young, intelligent accountant or something.

his field of work is dangerous; he knows that. killing random people he doesn’t even know for cash. large sums of cash, sure. but, nonetheless, killing. he honestly always found it humorous, a trained marksman, mercenary, and vigilante , with his super cool awesome, still in school to become a pâtissière best friend!

he knew you’d leave; he knew no human being on planet earth could bear even looking at his rough, bumpy skin. that’s why he’s yet to show you his face, never failing to wear his mask around you, even though you’ve known each other for so long now. he didn’t know why you were still around after all this time even with the mask on, he knew most people found him to be annoying, aggravating, and just an all around piece of shit person, but for some reason, you liked him, and you enjoyed being around him.

he’s never had someone so close to him, as you are with him. you’re so kind, so affectionate, and so touchy. he thinks it’s just pity, you’d never think of him as anything more than a friend.

he dreamt of being the man who loved you the rest of your life; he wished that he could fall asleep and wake up to your face every day, make you laugh every day, eat every meal with you, watch every movie and every show, spend every holiday together, fuck, even start a family. he craved you. he craved your love, your care, and your kindness; he wanted to be normal with you, but he’s not normal, far from it. he knew better than that. he knew he didn’t deserve that. he would never be the man that you love.

he’s not ready to let you go, but he can’t keep his feelings for you inside any longer. he honestly dug himself into an even deeper hole, choosing to come over almost every free night he had. he couldn’t stay away from you; he hated being away from you. during every mission and every fight, all he thought about was coming home to you. you’re the only person who truly understood him for the man that he is, and he loves you for that. he’s never opened up to anybody the way that he’d opened up to you. you were special, so special to him. he was terrified.

you felt hopeless, stupid, and desperate. every advance you made, you’d failed. from baking him his favorite treats, to holding his hand while you watched a movie on the couch, to giving him hugs that lasted a little longer than necessary after a long mission, you couldn’t get your best friend out of your mind, not if you tried. hou crave him, his love, his care, his stupid fucking jokes that never end, his sarcastic nature, his sass—you don’t think you have ever loved a man the way that you love wade.

sometimes, he made you think that he might like you back, that he might have some sort of romantic interest in you, but it was quickly shut down after he made a joke, basically telling you that it would never happen.

you and wade were sitting on the couch, just talking, telling stories, and catching up after a particularly long time apart. until you had thought of a statement, that could’ve told you whether or not wade may or may not feel the same way.

your best friend, mia, had mistaken you and wade for a couple while on the phone. when you denied her statement, she apologized, saying she’s sorry for assuming, but you did spend all your time together..

when you told wade what she said, he doubled down in laughter before spitting out, “you? me? never. who is this friend? have i met her? has she seen me before? you might need to get her 5150’d.”

which did shatter your heart into a million pieces, but nonetheless, it wouldn’t stop you from trying to show him how much you care, how much you want to be with him, and how much you want to love him. he deserved love, and you wanted to give it to him.

each time he made a self-deprecating joke, it broke your heart. it was torture for you. the most he would ever do is lift his mask slightly when he ate with you, only to pop a piece of food in his mouth, then sheathe his face with his mask once again to chew, repeating the process until he’d finished. but even then, you never looked out of respect.

there were multiple occasions where you could’ve snuck a peek, where you could’ve turned around and saw his full face, but you knew how genuinely insecure he felt and how scared he was for you to see his face, so you never looked, not wanting to betray his trust or make him uncomfortable. you loved him, and you wish he understood that absolutely nothing could change that. especially not the way he looks.

today, you were sat on your couch, waiting for him to arrive. He said he’d be over tonight for the usual—rom-coms and junk food. but today, you felt different, your balls finally dropped, and you were ready to admit how you felt, whether it was a good or bad outcome, you were ready.

every single worst-case scenario clouded your thoughts, making your palms sweaty and causing a deep ache in your chest until you heard a knock at your door, saving you from plummeting even farther into your head.

you open the door, and time feels slow motion. you didn’t see deadpool; you saw wade for the first time- the real wade. standing there with an anxious expression plastered across his mottled face, snacks in one hand and flowers ripped from the dirt outside of your apartment complex in the other.

your stomach dropped along with your expression, the shock stunning you into place as you began to gather your thoughts. this is what he was hiding, you thought. jesus christ, all of that trouble for this? you could almost hit him.

wade, on the other hand, paced in your hallway, back and forth for 15 minutes before this, trying to decide whether he should just bail and leave the fucking country or finally stop being pussy and just show you his goddamn face.

after seeing your initial reaction, his head dropped, his gaze on the floor, as he muttered, “i know. total freak show, right? freddy kruger? craterface? cmon, lay it on me.”

now was your chance, as you cupped his face with your hands and pressed your soft lips against his dry, cracked ones. you felt his tense muscles drop and relax as he melted into the kiss, relishing in the feeling and making sure it was real, too.

you’d pulled away, looking him in the eyes and flashing a smile his way before placing kisses all over his cheeks, forehead, nose, and chin.

your gaze fell across his face once again, this time meeting you with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“so— ten things i hate about you, or steel magnolias?”

[senjuushi]

Ghost seems like such a sweet boy, and you said that being called a 'good boy' would probably kill him, so could you maybe write something with a kind master consistently praising him and gradually working to build up his affection reserves and self-confidence? I'm such a sucker for pretty white-haired boys rip

• Every bit of praise directed his way, no matter how small, means more to him than you'll know. Ghost isn't expecting you to do much better than occasionally remember he exists— such frequent, insistent attention goes well beyond even his greediest, most undeserved fantasies. Your acknowledgment leaves him tripping over half-whispered attempts to thank you for treating him so kindly. He'd do anything to be useful to you, the Master who somehow sees any semblance of worth in his existence.

• Especially if there's any noticeable favoritism in how you treat him, Ghost is grateful. Stunned, confused, and struggling to understand why you're doing any of this, in the first place, but indescribably grateful for everything you do, nonetheless. He tries to pay you back in whatever ways he can, though that ability is mostly limited to unquestioning obedience and his best efforts to live up to what pleases you. It takes a while to stop panicking over any extended period of one-on-one attention, but after he's had time to adjust, Ghost is extremely un-subtle in how he adores you.

• It's hard to say if you're actually improving his self-confidence or not. He'll stop trying to deny your praise, soon enough— but is that a sign of improved self-image, or just more of him trying to be compliant? There's really no way to tell. Even if the improved behavior is only because he's secure, for now, in your attention, Ghost does slowly start to act less timid and self-loathing. At the very least, no one else can tear him down when he has faith that his Master thinks he's worth his place as their tool.

[syeunko]

Home stretch

What a weird amalgamation of a week. My trip in May/June felt like a soft transition into “the next phase of my life,” and this the official countdown to it. That Tangled song, “When will my life begin?” (Answer: July 1, 2024) kept popping up in my head, especially when I saw the chameleon charm I got in Madrid (a fitting souvenir, no?).

These past two weeks at home, I’ve continued to walk - I’ve walked a minimum of 10k steps since last Wednesday! (my realistic goal was to do this until 7/1) My average step count over the past six weeks was 11k steps.

During these walks, I couldn’t help but think back to my previous attempt to walk 10k steps/day, a goal that failed miserably and was quite short-lived. During this time, people frequently gave me unsolicited advice on how to exercise, what not to eat, what to change, what would help. Granted, it was with the best of intentions, but I was frustrated nonetheless - did they think I didn’t know exercise was beneficial? Processed sugars were unhealthy? 

There were multiple days during the recent trip where I’d walked upwards of 15k steps pretty easily. Such was not the case at home; some days were easier than others, but on the really hot or busy workdays, I did not feel like walking the full 10k steps. But because I’d already started to experience the physical and mental benefits of walking, I found the motivation to continue the streak. Which brought me to my biggest realization this week: telling people the truth isn’t enough, we must bring people to experience the truth.

This applies to so many things besides my walks. “엄마, shop for quality over quantity. Don’t get fooled by a sale or a discount!” This advice elicited a prompt agreement from my mom, but was mostly ignored until she finally splurged on a bear sweater and realized the cost per wear for it was way better than her other mid bargain purchases.  

“God loves you so much He sent his one and only son to die in your stead so you can have eternal life.” First of all, this probably sounds like a big load of crock to a non-believer, but even as a seeker turned believer, it took me multiple experiences to finally live in and accept that truth. And each time I go through this cycle with Him, I return to Him more quickly and confidently.

I guess this is very basic knowledge, but it helped me reframe my mindset. No more automatic self-chastisement for not following through with my goals! More thoughts on what is stopping me from experiencing this truth that’s lodged only in my head!

I was somewhat dreading these last two weeks before I left for Boston, but it turned out to be quite a fulfilling and restorative time. NOVA, you were really difficult, but I wouldn’t change my experience for anything!! That being said, it will be so surreal to move back…eternally grateful, humbled, and undeserving. 

[lcvernat]

Querencia | Natasha Romanoff x Reader

(n) a place from which one's strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self

Summary: Love is a foreign concept to Natasha Romanoff, and she's convinced she isn't deserving of it. Until you come into her life, determined to show her that she deserves the universe and you'd give it to her if you could.

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warnings: mostly tooth-rotting fluff, strong language, a pinch of angst at the beginning if you squint, reader is whipped, natasha deserves the world

A/N: new tumblr blog, first post, so hey! i have been debating for quite a while whether i want to start posting my writing somewhere instead of having my fics collect dust and never see the light of day. so, i've finally gathered the courage to do so. they definitely aren't nyt bestseller worthy, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless. likes, reblogs, and feedback is greatly appreciated! whether i'll continue to post my writing will be determined, haha.

Natasha and you had only been dating for 3 months and 14 days - not that anyone was counting - and it hadn't exactly been easy. Natasha Romanoff didn't have an easy childhood, and she had never experienced love. It was a completely foreign concept she thought she was undeserving of. She barely even knew what love was, and it terrified her every time you looked at her with so much love and adoration; as if she was a person deserving of love. Even though she wasn't.

"Don't do that," You scolded.

Natasha stiffened in surprise, "Do what?"

"You're doubting yourself again. You're doubting this," you gestured at the two of you with your free hand, the other wrapped around her waist as her head lay on your chest, "You got all stiff and tense, and it was written all over your face."

That was another thing that happened around you. It was so easy for Natasha to relax around you that she dropped her mask and every thought and feeling was visible on her face for you to see. She sat up, "I'm not doubting us," she mumbled.

"Yes you are. Nat," you sit up too, grabbing her hands and clutching them like a lifeline, "I love you, okay? I know we haven't been dating for that long. But God, I've loved you since the day I first set my eyes on you. This isn't fake. This is real, and you're deserving of love, okay? Stop acting as if you aren't."

Natasha found it hard to breathe. The room was too small, her shirt was too tight, you were clutching her hands too tight, your words were too overwhelming. She yanked her hands away from yours as if she had been burnt and stood up abruptly, "I have to go," was all she said before walking out of your bedroom, the door closing behind her.

You sighed, laying back down, your head hitting the pillow. You knew it would take time, but you'd be patient - you'd wait a million years for Natasha if she asked.

"Morning," Natasha mumbled, entering the kitchen of the compound to find you already sat at the island, your laptop in front of you.

Your head turned around at the sound of her voice, your face lighting up into a grin instantaneously once your gaze connected with hers, "Morning, Nat, I got you coffee," you gestured to the Starbucks cup sat beside you on the island. "I didn't want to wake you when I got up, so I went to get Starbucks and got you one too. It's your favorite, too, caramel macchiato, even though you always say you take your coffee black but that's a lie - you get the sweetest possible thing on the menu."

"Oh, um, thanks," Natasha's tone was awkward and unsure as she stared at the cup. The fact that you had went out of your way to not only remember her favorite Starbucks drink, but to also be thinking of her when you were buying yourself coffee, and to even buy her one too, made her feel something that she was scared of feeling.

She took the drink slowly, and took a cautious sip. You were watching her, and you gave her a gentle smile when she looked at you. Thankfully, she returned it, "Thank you, detka," she sounded more confident now as she leaned down to brush a kiss against your cheek.

"I'm going to train with Steve now, but I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay. I love you, Nat." She didn't say it back, and instead just left the kitchen. That was okay though, because at least she had accepted the coffee. Baby steps.

Natasha was stressed. She had, quite frankly, a shit ton of paperwork to do, Fury had asked her to train some new S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents, Steve had asked her to draft up a new training routine, and she still had to do a debrief on the latest mission. To say she wasn't having a great day would be an understatement.

So, when she had entered her bedroom, planning to tackle the mountain load of paperwork on her desk, only to find it missing, she was thoroughly confused. "Hey, Y/N?" She asked, walking into your bedroom to find you sat on your bed reading a book.

You looked up at her when she entered and put your bookmark in your book, setting it off to the side. "Yeah, Nat? Is everything alright?" You asked, concerning furrowing your eyebrows.

"Have you seen the mountain load of paperwork that was on my desk? It's disappeared, and I really need to get it done." She ran a hand through her auburn hair in frustration, messing it up.

Your response sent a shock to her system, making her stiffen automatically: "Oh, I done it."

"What?"

You quirked an eyebrow, confused at her change in demeanor, "I said I done it. I went into your room to steal a hoodie - don't ask - and saw your notebook with your to-do list open on your desk. I promise I wasn't snooping, it was just there. I saw you had a shit ton to do, so I thought it'd be best to take a load off that. You really should tell me when you have a lot to do, I could help you. The paperwork is sat on my desk," you gestured to it with a nod of your head, "if you want to read over it to make sure everything's okay, but I think it's fine."

Natasha just stared at you in shock, and for a second you were convinced that you had broken the Black Widow. Until she done something you never would've expected: she burst into abrupt tears.

You shot up instantly, walking over to her and wrapping your arms around her tightly, "Oh God, baby, what's wrong? Did I do something wrong?"

You felt her shake her head against your neck, and a mumbled "No," answered your concerns. You held her there for a while, running a soothing hand through her hair until she had calmed down. She pulled away and you cupped her face with your hands, wiping away the tear stains.

"What's wrong? Why were you crying?" You ask her softly.

"Stress." She answered simply. You stared at her unconvinced until she took a deep breath and continued, "Fine. A mixture of stress and just, God, I don't know. No one's ever done that for me before, okay? I've always been expected to carry every burden, and to never ask for help. It just... it overwhelms me how much you care, I guess." She looks down at her feet, her hands fidgeting with each other nervously.

"You don't need to carry every burden anymore, Nat. You don't have to do anything on your own anymore, I'm always going to be here. Where you go, I go. Okay?"

She nods, and you pull her in for another hug. It seemed Natasha Romanoff was finally starting to see that she was deserving of love.

It was 4 years later. You and Natasha had retired as Avengers, and now lived together as you had always planned. You had even got a dog, which Natasha insisted you name Fanny, and a cat, which Natasha also insisted you name Liho. Life was perfect, and Natasha couldn't see a way it could get better. Until one day, you told her you had a surprise planned.

"Where are we? Where are you bringing me, detka?" She questioned curiously as you guided her along. She wasn't able to see, considering you had blindfolded her so it wouldn't ruin the surprise.

"Shhh, Tasha, stop asking so many questions. Just be patient, we're nearly there," You squeezed her hand reassuringly, as you made sure she wouldn't fall over any rocks or twigs. Soon enough, the sound of running water hit Natasha's ears. "Okay, look," you said as you stepped behind her to take the blindfold off. When her eyes had adjusted to the drastic change in lighting, she gasped at the sight in front of her. Somehow, you had managed to find a secluded waterfall, surrounded by trees and flowers that littered the grass. The area was gorgeous, flourishing with nature and Natasha couldn't help but marvel at the sight in front of her.

"Detka, this is go-" She stopped abruptly as she turned around to find you on one knee with a ring held out in front of you. Her hands came up to cover her mouth as tears sprang to her eyes.

You smiled sheepishly, "Natalia Alianovna Romanova," you began, "I think you know where this is going, but I still need to say this. Admittedly, we haven't had the easiest of relationships. But that's okay, because we got through it, and to be completely honest, I would go through hell and back for you. I have loved you since the day I first set my eyes on you. You're my home, Nat, the person I can be myself around and I don't have to worry about you judging me because honestly you've stuck with me for so long that you definitely deserve an award. You deserve the entire universe and more, and I know I can't give you that, but believe me; I would if I could. But, if you'd let me, I'd love to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to show you that you deserve all the love in the world, I want to wake up next to you every day, I want to be a really cheesy married couple and do all the things married couples do because God you deserve it," you hadn't even noticed that you had started crying until you felt wet tears drip down onto your shirt, "So, Natalia Romanova, will you marry me?"

She didn't say anything, and for a split second you were worried that you had fucked up, until she tackled you to the ground and screamed, "YES! YES! OH MY GOD A THOUSAND TIMES YES!" right into your ear, probably bursting your ear drum. You didn't mind though. You laughed, wrapping your arms around her and kissing her - trying to convey all your love and adoration into one kiss.

You broke away when your lungs started begging for air, "Okay, let me put the ring on your finger." You put the ring on and pulled her in for yet another kiss.

Natasha Romanoff thought she was undeserving of love, but you taught her how untrue that was. It didn't matter what name she went by: Natalia Romanova, Natalie Rushman, Natasha Romanoff. You loved every single part of her, and she finally understood that.

[yunhohours]

omggggg can u please do one of those birth chart things for woozi!!!! <333

Sure, I'll do my best! <3

Let me say this upfront: Woozi is not for the faint of heart or the sensitive. Emotions are not his strong suit: not his nor yours. That’s not to say that he can’t handle them properly or that he is uncaring, it’s just a general overview. You need to be mentally and emotionally strong on your own and confident in who you are in order to be with Woozi. That's the most important thing I'm going to say, most likely, but I will elaborate nonetheless.

Starting with Woozi’s type, I believe he would be intrigued by someone that can not only handle his strong personality, but also counter it. If you can have good banter and teasing with him, he loves that. He likes someone that isn’t too rigid. It’s important that you can be spontaneous and keep up with him because he can be all over the place and impatient about anyone trying to hold him back even for a brief second. He lives by the moment and likes to stay busy. He isn’t into highly emotional types, but he does like to be praised and acknowledged often. If he feels like you don’t give him enough attention or the wrong kind of attention, all bets are off. Playfulness is a must. Wittiness is a must. Cleverness is a must. He can take care of himself (and doesn’t like to be told what to do), so he doesn’t necessarily need or want a caretaker-type partner. He wants an equal, a partner that he can experience life with.

Whether or not he’d make a move? Yes absolutely, but with stipulations. He’s honest (sometimes to a fault) and he chases what he wants in the moment. If that happens to be you, he will make that perfectly evident. But the next moment, his focus may be somewhere else and that can make you feel like he’s not interested. Mixed signals are thing with Woozi!! He doesn’t mean to do it. He just gets distracted. And sometimes it happens because there are parts of him (sag sun, virgo mars) that are resistant to love. Sometimes it’s about “losing his freedom,” sometimes it’s about feeling undeserving. If you can’t stick it out through the push and pull that he may put you through for quite some time, you’re not the one. He will need to know that you’re going to stick around no matter what in order to decide it’s worth committing. At this point, he will be much less flighty. He will still be wildly independent at heart, but he will always come back to you.

In a relationship, you can expect a lot of activity. You’ll travel together, explore new hobbies together, do literally anything either of you have the smallest desire to do. You’ll debate a lot and goof off. You’ll never be bored. He’ll teach you things and encourage you to follow your every dream. Heart to hearts won’t be often, but you’ll know he means every word he says when they do take place. He prefers to show love through actions: taking you somewhere you’ve mentioned wanting to go, making sure you have the most fun birthday, ordering your favorite food in, things like that. You’ll have to handle his bouts of impulsiveness, impatience, and even self-centeredness. He can talk condescendingly at times whether he means to or not. He’s not easy. But he is EXCITING. He burns hot for you and for life. He is a true partner, even if not a traditional one. He will protect you. He will help you grow individually and with him.

In the bedroom, Woozi probably has quite the sexual appetite. He may not come across that way—it’ll depend on whether he wants you to see that side of him or not. His virgo mars has a tendency to be reserved, but all the fire in his chart may cancel that out. However, virgo is a sign of service, so when mars (the planet of aggression/sex) is in virgo, you have yourself a partner that puts your sexual satisfaction as paramount to everything else. Woozi’s gonna make you cum. Period. Getting you off gets him off.

In conclusion, Woozi is a handful but what else would we expect from him? He’s also a delight.

[dazzlinglando]

aria’s relationships with ateez:

masterlist

↳ hongjoong

as leader, hongjoong is protective over all of his members. especially to aria, though. he will literally not hesitate to hurt anyone who makes her sad, uncomfortable or as if she is undeserving of her place in ateez.

always tries to include her in the creative process of the songs, whether that be letting her in his studio whilst he works on songs, getting her to sing/rap demos or utilising her talents with musical instruments. he also ensures that she always feels involved in group decisions and knows that her voice and opinion is important, despite being the only girl.

when hongjoong knew that aria was joining the group and didn’t know much of the korean language, he took it upon himself to learn more english so she could feel as welcome and at home as possible from day 1.

↳ seonghwa

seonghwa would risk it all for his precious aria. literally. ever since she walked into the kq practice room, he was drawn to her. all he wanted was for her to feel comfortable, and despite the language barrier, he was the first to introduce himself.

certified cuddle buddies™. if those two go missing during schedules or practice, chances are they’re somewhere cuddling. 

when their schedules allow, they have special ‘arihwa’ time, in which they spend a few hours together to watch movies, paint each other’s nails, braid hair and relax together. during this time, seonghwa also insists on helping aria with her korean studies, as he knows that it’s a chance for him to learn more english too.

seonghwa in particular always looks out for her during practice sessions or long schedules to make sure that she’s eating, drinking and not overworking herself.

↳ yunho

their relationship started off rocky at first. when she first joined kq, she was very intimidated by yunho. In fact, it took her about 3 weeks to warm up to him and start initiating conversations.

honestly, when aria started talking to yunho, he was the happiest person alive.

fast forward a few months and yunho is aria’s happiness. literal happiness. he’s always going out of his way to make her smile or laugh, by doing random dances or showing his aegyo. looking back at it, aria has no idea why she was so intimidated by him. he is literally the light of her life.

↳ yeosang

despite his ‘savage’ aura, yeosang is a right softie when it comes to aria, or ‘ariana grande’ as he calls her. they’re one of the closest pairs in the group, they literally do anything and everything together (within reason,, of course). spontaneous trips to starbucks? arisang will be there.

partners in crime. always be concerned if these two are together and suspiciously quiet, they’ve probably pulled a prank on one of the memebers.

if aria is ever feeling particulary homesick, he will try his best to bring the uk to their dorm in south korea. in fact once, when aria was feeling this way, he brought her the first british related thing he could find. a guitar strap with the british flag, but also with one direction on. it’s the thought that counts, and that guitar strap is her prized possession, despite not really liking one direction.

↳ san

if you ever need him, he’ll be watching aria’s fancams. he is in awe with how talented she is. and he is not afraid to show that he is, in fact, the #1 fairy (aria’s individual fandom name).

they have both struggled with self esteem issues, and will always look for opportunities to compliment each other, even if its over little things.

when they spend a long period of time speaking english together, san WILL develop a british accent for a bit. he’s always asking her for cool english phrases to tell atiny, or how to word things when writing posts for the international fans. 

↳ mingi

the fairy line. these two are so soft around each other. they’re most probably cuddling, watching premier league football or playing fifa together.

when aria first joined the company, the language barrier put him off getting to know her; he didn’t know any english, just as she didn’t know barely any korean. nonetheless, they eventually got closer by using translation apps to talk to each other, before feeling confident to talk to one another in their native language.

always have the most memorable, or rather chaotic, vlives, where they dance or play games together.

↳ wooyoung

soulmates. absolute soulmates. as they were born so close together, they always make jokes about how they were destined to be best friends. and oh my, this duo is loud.

aria finds everything wooyoung does hilarious, literally everything. his sexy aura is something she was immediately drawn to, his confidence and perseverance really inspired and motivated her to be the best idol she could be. she really took a lot of strength through Wooyoung.

they also are known for their chaotic vlives and content. they cook and bake together, it’s their thing to teach and make one another tradititional korean and british treats and snacks, and 99% of the time it doesn’t go to plan. similar to yeosang, wooyoung always tries to bring the uk to their dorm when she’s feeling home sick by watching the great british bake off and other british cooking shows with her.

↳ jongho

such an underrated duo. aria loved having someone younger than her in the group. she was so used to being the baby of her family, as soon as there was someone younger than her, her maternal side really shows.

jongho may not like skinship, but boy does he initiate hugs with aria a lot. she is a big source of comfort for the maknae.

when at the company, in between practises, they’re most likely sat in her studio with a guitar singing random songs, and hitting high notes that mariah carey would be proud of. aria’s talent and vocal ability is something that always amazes Jongho. nothing but pure respect and admiration for his noona.

[atomicblasphemy]

Chamomile {Part I}

Eda and Amity share a cup of tea.

If she could just bring herself to it, she would have been able touch her. The human’s hand laid with its palm up, fingers slightly apart, had Amity Blight been a more reckless, a more selfish person she would have read an invitation there. But the fact was that she wasn’t brazen, or at least not when it came to her paramour. The very opposite was more likely to be the case. And she wasn’t as invasive or disrespectful as to spoil Luz’s peace. She knew well enough how this could feel, and she wouldn’t dream of making her experience that. The human’s peaceful sleeping face, a small smile on her lips, the slow rhythmic sound of her breath, the fact she had fallen asleep facing her, those were signs of trust. An undeserved gift Amity Blight wasn’t willing to abuse. Those were the thoughts repeating in her mind: the sanctity of Luz’s peace and her own unwillingness, due to her own principles, to corrupt that. Principles whose origins she didn’t know for certain.

Truth be told, it wasn’t her undeniable attraction for Luz keeping sleep away from her, however. It was this vulnerability, this unwarranted confidence the girl deposited in Amity Blight, that she could allow herself to be in such position around her despite the long list of evidences to the contrary the witchling could think of. That’s what was bothering her. She wanted to see herself worthy of such trust, but scour her mind as she might, nothing could explain to her Luz’s abandonment. It wasn’t as though they kept with the antagonism of their early interactions, things had changed, for the better. Or so Amity Blight wanted to believe, hoping Luz would agree. Nevertheless, it was far too soon for her to be deserving of any of this from the human.

She shifted her position, laying flat on her back now. The wooden ceiling sure could provide some welcomed distraction. She counted the boards, she lost track of time as she mapped the large veins on each of them, as she often liked to when she was given the chance. Her parents’ taste for pristine white marble made sure this rarely was the case however. Her home was so different from this place, like comparing a cottage to a hermetically clean hospital, sterile. The flawlessness of her homestead’s ever so pristine couth, which had been passed down from so many generations, was all she had known thus far. The owl house was well kept, to the limited extent of what Edalyn Clawthorne, King and now Luz could manage. Still, the choice words for her parents to describe the place would would surely be along the lines of revolting or filthy. This would always be more than enough for them to form an unshakable opinion on the denizens. She owed Skara one, if not for her, today would not have been possible, circumstances would not have allowed it to be possible. She now knew what the word cozy meant, it had always sounded so abstract to her.

But try as she might to distract herself, think idle thoughts about her parents, Skara, and generalities of distinct living conditions, Luz’s sweet, almond like smell made those be futile efforts at best, counterproductive at worst. No witch she knew smelled like that. But then again, most witches in her social circle were avid users of colognes, perfumes, or really anything that can mask the natural scent of their bodies. Amity Blight used to think this was a flattering character of her fellow upper-crust, this earthly scent however, so grounded as to be naive, begged to differ. Luz never showed such frugal concerns, and despite often making those unsettling jokes about quitting basic hygiene, she not once saw the girl dirty. Going the distance of using perfume, however, sounded like it would be a foreign concept to the human. Amity Blight couldn’t really tell whether or not this smell was a human thing or if witches also had such scents. But this was Luz’s smell, that’s all she needed to know.

She tried to lead her thoughts elsewhere, but still they circled back to the unavoidable distraction to her side. She won’t get any sleep if things stay like this, and Luz had plans for the two of them in the morning. She needed some air, the most delicious scent she could think becoming unbearable,  some time outside this room to get her thoughts in order. Sitting up, looking to her side  she can’t help a smile of her own at Luz’s content face. She shoos the thought that she could, perhaps be dreaming of her, that she could be the cause of that contentment. If Luz could unknowingly keep Amity Blight’s brazeness at bay, she could do the same to her learned inclinations for pretension. This wasn’t enough to keep her, mostly unbidden, hand from towards Luz. But she wouldn’t take the risk, she was unsure whether she could afford such mistake, because that’s what this would be.

Ruling against that action, she reaches further, picking up the small notebook and Luz’s favorite pen that laid beside it. It seemed as though the light spell Luz casted earlier - by Amity’s request - worked as a candle, dimming as time went on. She was never a fan of sleeping in the dark, and her own purple light spells only brought back the memories of Ed and Em asking, no, demanding, to know why they weren’t invited to the night club. Luz had been  kind enough as to give her that, she even taught her the exact design one should make in order to cast light in that fashion. Thinking of that brought a thought to Amity. It was auspicious, to say the least, that the girl’s first self taught spell was a light spell. Hadn’t she told her once that in her mother’s language Luz meant light? She smiled, the name  simply made too much sense in every conceivable way. Safe for Bellos, and likely Boscha, that was bound to be an unanimous opinion among all inhabitants of the Boiling Isles that had met the human. Amity Blight gave out a wee smile at the thought, her bias on that opinion too large for her to say whether or not it was true, but she would stubbornly hold on to that belief nonetheless. She didn’t want to question why she had been allowed to be under this light, not now. Point stands, nonetheless, Amity Blight knew what she had done both to Luz herself as well as some of those the human held the closest to her heart. Those displays of kindness, or even endearment, those are what Amity Blight would never understand: both a sign of praiseworthy courage and of a reckless abandonment a Blight couldn’t help but to chastise. And Titan as her witness, had she done enough chastisement of Luz in the past. But the thought of Luz’s desire for being close to her made her certain she wouldn’t see her usual pale complexion should she look into a mirror. Luckily, there was none there to witness her giving in to her feelings.

She drew the glyph and sure enough a small orb of light materialized, consuming the sheet of paper. To her utter surprise, it had the same color as Luz’s. She drew a second one, standing up before casting it. As quietly as she could despite the creak of the floor boards she made her way to the kitchen. The owl house, although fairly large for the four living in it - five if one counts that abhorrent screechy creature with no sense of personal space as a person - had a pretty straight forward layout. It had taken Amity Blight but one quick visit to be able to navigate the place with her eyes closed if she wanted, but the scattered random objects Edalyn Clawthorne, the matriarch, had collected over the years stopped her from such attempt. Despite living there her whole life, she couldn’t claim the same familiarity with her family’s ancestral manor. She wondered how she would feel tomorrow  night, sleeping there again.

The kitchen, as simple as the rest of the house, was deserted. She had insisted on helping Luz clean it up after dinner, her ineptitude at basic chores earning Luz’s laughter and a few basic lessons. She could now almost be considered an expert at doing the dishes, probably the first Blight to ever reach that. She knew were the glasses were, that was all she needed. Fetching a glass she makes her way to the fridge, hoping to find that cold bottle of water she saw earlier.

“Trouble sleeping, Blight?”

A tall figure, still wearing her carmine dress, stood leaning herself on the backdoor’s threshold, an amicable expression, although suggesting there was still a large bridgeless river between them, on her face, her arms crossed.  She had been silent enough to almost give Amity a heart attack, Edalyn only laughed. Dropping the large cloth bag next to the door.

“Ms. Clawthorne. Uhh… Yes, a little. You too?”  

“Well, the fact that I every now and then become one is not the only reason why people call me the Owl Lady. I also have really, really bad insomnia. When its especially bad, like tonight, I just go run a few… errands. But enough about that. Thought you’d sleep like a brick after Luz dragged you all over the whole day. So, my humble abode’s accommodations are not up to standard or...”

“N-No, Ms. Cla-Clawthorne. Everything is perfect. I just have a… I have insomnia too, sometimes. So, yeah… That’s it.”

The older witch furrowed her eyebrows, Amity Blight knew that look. She was being studied. But her inelegant response had been simply unavoidable, a knee jerk reaction beyond her control. It was true however, sleep often evaded the girl, but the heat rising to her cheeks denounced that this night the cause was other than usually. The difference in their postures and clothing was enough to make the Blight want to burrow herself in hole. Edalyn, in a well worn dress red in color – which highly complimented the gray tone of her hair, the white of her skin, and more importantly her heterochromatic eyes, the yellow jewelry matching her left honey colored eye, the original color for both of the, this was her biggest battle scar – looked, in her usual manner, ready for whatever these Isles could have in store for her. Amity Blight, on the other hand, with her hair loose from her usual small ponytail, a few strands falling in front of both her eyes hiding the amber beneath, wearing well tailored, thought loosely fitting and thick pajamas as to afford as much comfort as possible to her sleep in a chilly night as this one, looked as off guard as one possibly could. Her upper class origin could, at times, be rather inconvenient.

“Anyway… Tea? Figure it can help you get at least some shut eye. According to Luz’s incessant rambling this last couple of days it seems you have a busy day ahead of you tomorrow and you will need at least some rest.”

“Y-yes. Tea would be lovely, m-ma’am.”

She worried the blush would show in the dim light. The name of Luz, in the girl’s mentor’s voice, again making Amity Blight’s emotions take the forefront. She attempted to speak as little as possible. Seeing how Edalyn was still studying her, this option seemed to grow distant by the instant. The suggestion of a smirk in the Owl Lady’s lips.

“Hope you like chamomile then, cause that’s all we have. Is that alright with you?”

“That’s my favorite actually, thanks. Em will always brew it for me and Ed  when there’s a Boiling storm.”

“Em? That’s your sister right? Emerald, wasn’t it?”

The Clawthorne asked, as she filled a kettle with water.

“Emira, actually.”

“Dangit, I owe Lily 5 snails. We had this bet, back at school, you know. When we saw things between Al and Odalia were getting serious. I said Odalia’s first born daughter would be called Emerald, seemed right up her alley. I mean, because of the green and all, but mostly because… No offense, but she always had a bit of a gaudy taste. You should see her looks at grom, she had so much jewelry on her that you could probably buy a house with it, even if you sold it to the lowest bidder, and so much fabric in her dress that you could build a tent big enough to fit all of Bonesburough under it.”

Amity Blight couldn’t contain a small chuckle, much to Edalyn’s surprise. The owl lady raised her eyebrows expecting clarification from the Blight.

“Well, you’re not too far off. I heard that was the second pick.”

“Huh, was it Al who didn’t let the three of you have weird names, or did she get suddenly struck with common sense? Well, in any case, you seem to have more taste than her. Also, will you just have a sit already, Blight? Seriously, you’re lucky you’re not called Diamond or some thing like that, Blight.”

Amity Blight winced at how Edalyn addressed her. From someone as close to Luz as Edalyn, there was only one way Amity Blight wanted to be called.

“That part I don’t really know, it was Em herself who told me she almost was called that. And, please, just call me Amity.”

Edalyn, making her own way to the table, just looked at the girl. Amity felt as though she was still studying her, but so far she wanted to think she had made a good enough impression. She placed the pen and notebook on the table, to which Edalyn promptly picked it up, drawing a light glyph of her own almost as fast as Luz would, Amity couldn’t tell whether or not she had so much as looked at the paper as she drew it. The water on the kettle beginning to heat.

“Sure, as long as you start calling me Eda. No Ms. Clawthorne, no ma’ams, and specially no Owl Ladies. My name is Eda, just Eda. I don’t really do formality or legends well. Just ask Bump.”

She extends her hand towards Amity.

“Deal.”

Amity responded Eda’s gesture in kind. The agreement sealed with a firm handshake.

“Now, I still have to ask you. Why exactly you don’t want to be called Blight? Its a powerful name, all Blights I ever met seemed pretty proud of it, even when we were negotiating some back alley deal. You all seem to always try to do everything you can to remind everyone around you how much of a Blight you are. This is a first for me, I got to say.”

“I… That’s complicated. I don’t really know how to put it into words.”

“You should try it sometime though. But, in any case, we can always come back to this later. For now however, I hear you are pretty good with abominations, how’s that working out for you?”

Amity couldn’t be more grateful for Eda’s obvious option for small talk. For someone who said not to be good with formalities, her capacity of catching up on those queues was impressive. She couldn’t help her surprise to learn that on her Hexside days she attended the potions track instead of oracle. But that first part sounded to her more like a promise than a suggestion.

As the water slowly began to boil, they talked. Eda would every now and then drop a few anecdotes about Amity’s mother. Progressively derogatory ones at that. The girl was starting  to feel skeptic as to the honesty of her ever present “no offense” claims. It was a welcomed thing though,  she was not about to stop Eda’s mockery. However, the woman seemed to grow interested in one particular topic, one Amity was much less excited about.

“So, you have those light brown roots. You plan on dying it anytime soon? Just curious, because honestly as it is, you look like you have some kind of plant in your hair. Like, green leafs atop the the brown bark and all.”

She took some time answering, despite Eda’s friendly demeanor. As a matter of fact, that too was confusing her. Much like with Luz, she couldn’t understand why she of all people wouldn’t be keeping her at an arms length. Either way, she didn’t know where exactly Eda planned on taking this conversation, which Amity had been truly enjoying, just like that curiosity took over.

“Yeah. Mother has been insistent about it for a couple weeks. I kind of like it this way, though. I don’t know, does it really look that bad?”

“No, not at all. I made fun of it, but I don’t really think you need to change it… if you don’t want to, that is. But… Well, I have a feeling we’ll get to it eventually.”

Amity noticed some hesitation in Eda’s voice. She said those words slower than her normal pace, lower than her normal pitch, uncharacteristically tentative. Moreover, Eda’s words made the girl certain this conversation would be much longer than she had anticipated when she first saw Eda standing by the door frame.

“Thanks. But, any day now Mother will come home with that bottle green dye, and then she’ll summon me to her quarters, and then she’ll dye it. And then that will be it.”

“Wait. Odalia dyes your hair herself?” Seeing Amity’s curt nod, Eda completed. “Interesting… It both sounds exactly like the Odalia I knew and nothing like her.” She lingered in the last syllable, as if still processing the information.

Opportunistically, the kettle started screaming announcing the water had boiled. Amity started getting up, to help Eda with it who in turn raised her hand, prompting the girl to stop in her tracks.

“Nope, you’re still the guest here. Looks like you’ll be coming here more often, maybe then I’ll let you help me with this stuff. For now, I’ll be playing the role of the gracious host.”

Amity sat back down, quietly watching as Eda went about picking all the supplies needed. The herbs had already been sitting by the stove, so her first action had been to pour some of it into the water. She thought of Emira’s method, she could swear that should be done midway through the boiling. She saw Eda look towards the cabinet were they kept the tea cups, a small circular motion with her left index finger. And, of course, the frustrated moan was soon followed by the clanking sound of porcelain as Eda picked the teacups with her hands.

“Sugar?”

“Yes, please. A couple of spoons.”

Soon the two were back siting across from each other, waiting for the tea to cool down enough not to give them third degree burns.

“Thank you, Eda.”

“Eh, don’t mention it. I was going to make it for myself anyway.” A playful, even if laced with some poorly hidden malice, grin on her face, Eda continued. “Say, you mentioned earlier that this was your favorite kind of tea, is that right?”

“It sure is. Why?”

“Oh nothing, its just that… Personally, I’m more of an Earl Gray kind of gal. You know, I like with a bit more of a punch, you know? But not too much, especially at an hour like this. Now, Lily and King, I know for a fact those two refuse to drink anything other than coffee. I once caught those two pretty much chugging down a one litter bottle each. At three am. Black coffee, blacker than the night. It was some kind of competition they were having, I think. I’m just glad they didn’t ask Hooty to join in. However... now that I think about it, Luz’s favorite is also chamomile. So you two have that in common.”

“R-R-Really, is th-that so?”

Eda’s grin grew wider. Amity realized this was the first time the girl upstairs had been brought up in a while. Her cheeks rapidly warming up, a small flutter to her ears. The sight making Eda’s grin grow wider still.

“Mhmm. Matter of fact, that’s the main reason why that’s the only kind of tea we have here right now. She kept insisting it could help me with my insomnia, some sort of folksy human wisdom apparently. I decided to give it a shot, stop with the Earl Gray for a while.”

“Ah.”

Was all that Amity could muster. A polite, if anticlimactic, reaction. Otherwise, her reaction were liable to give away her feelings for Luz, a most unwelcomed outcome. She wanted to exercise the utmost caution as to keep her little secret.

“In any case, that’s pretty convenient, isn’t it?”

“Wh-Whatever do you mean, Ms. Clawthorne?”

“Humm... Are we going back to Ms. Clawthorne, Blight?” Despite the addressing, the smug on Eda’s face was comparable to that of even the Blightest of Blights. “What I mean by that is the fact that you now know what to bring for the two of you to drink at that hypothetical date you’ve probably spent the whole day quietly planning.”

“I-i-i-i-i… I haven’t the foggiest...”

“I was a teenager once too, you know? Besides, you’re about as discrete about your little crush on Luz as an end times street preacher, your face alone looks like it will kill the Czar. Not to mention how you kind of flinch and stutter when I mention her name, or how you look almost entranced when she’s talking to you. So… How long?”

Sighing in defeat, her secret out, she could only answer with another question, tucking a strand of green behind her still fluttering ears.

[fatefulfaerie]

Blades of the Yiga (Pt. 1/3)

Zelda kicked up sand with every tumultuous step, gasping for breath and feeling as if her lungs would tire.

She panted every breath. Even a short, forced swallow made no difference, her dry throat not soothed in the slightest before her breaths became heavy again.

She took no care to her lightly fisted hands, her impropriety as she ran as fast as she could, shadows of palm trees flitting past her.

Zelda continued to run as she took a look behind her she knew she couldn’t afford, the sight of red making her turn her head back and run even faster.

The outside of her right foot suddenly rolled in the sand, curling in such a wonky way that the oddity was only outweighed by the subsequent and sudden pain. Zelda closed and opened her eyes as it happened, reacting with a deflation of her shoulders, but she readily ignored it. She was determined to survive this, to get back to Gerudo town, to any one of those warriors who would offer her aid.

She kept running with a slight limp, but it was no use, two Yiga warriors sliding in front of her and readying their vicious sickles.

Zelda inhaled at the sight, her breath shaky as she staggered back. She turned quickly around at the mere hope that they were alone, but she only found another red-clad mask-covered Yiga.

She fell backwards onto her hands, softening how hard she hit the sand as her knees bent in front of her. Zelda looked desperately between the two sides, in her green eyes a plea for mercy she couldn’t bring herself to voice.

They approached her and she felt her hope wither away, a single tear dropping upon her cheek as one of the Yiga loomed before her, readying his sickle to strike.

Everything her father said about her being a failure, everything she felt about being alone, it was all true. This world that would grow to hate her for her lack of sealing power, that was endlessly disappointed by her, had left her alone for dead.

She bowed her head and clamped her eyes shut as the Yiga moved his arm to strike forward, preparing herself for pain, for a death and assasination she couldn’t escape.

She heard the cool, slithering, metal graze of a weapon, yet no harm came to her.

Zelda looked up to see why, the movement of her head slow and cautious until she saw not tight, red fabric, but brown leather boots. Her eyes widened and, in her shock, a soft and sharp gasp parted her lips.

It was him, that boy, that knight, that one who was given everything, who pulled the sword that seals the darkness with ease while she still cried before statues upon statues of the goddess Hylia. It was that swordsman who was assigned as her knight attendant and yet seemed undeserving of everything he was given. It was that knight who kept his silence, who she assumed hated her for her incompetence and couldn’t even bring himself to utter a word of anything more than hate.

It was the knight with whom she acted the most improperly, her anger childish and the resentment she felt towards herself lashed out towards him.

It was Link.

He was protecting her, the self she knew deserved protection the least, and by his hand even more so. Yet Link stood there nonetheless, with the light of the sunset shimmering on his sword, scowling at his enemies, all because Zelda was in danger. With one movement of his sword and a flaming threat in his blue eyes, the two remaining Yiga assailants backed away in fear.

Zelda couldn’t stop staring at his determined expression, his courageous battle stance, his beastly blue eyes, his whole being, his whole life devoted to her safety. She felt a jolt in her heart as she watched the gentle breeze run through his dirty-blonde hair and studied his stance that absolutely radiated courage. Nothing would move him, would budge him from how he protected her.

The assailants had fled to the horizon, Link watching them until they no longer could be seen, hidden in cowardice by rampant desert winds. Link turned to Zelda as he lowered his sword.

He looked at her and it looked as if he were choosing his words carefully, the slight furrow in his brow ensuring Zelda that she must prepare for words of hatred, berating her for her defenselessness, for her carelessness, for her powerlessness.

But with a single blink, Zelda saw his eyes change. She had known them as neutral, having adopted the practice of endlessly searching them for any emotion and becoming frustrated when she found none, none to relate to, none to confide in. He was just so perfect that next to her, the failure, she had no choice but to hate him for the comparison the kingdom made. But in one single blink, Link’s eyes changed from a neutrality that burned--that to her, read like hatred--to something just a bit softer.  

Zelda was completely flummoxed as she tried to read it, Link sheathing his sword and taking a slight pause before he knelt before her, meeting her eye-line.

“Are you okay?” Link asked, Zelda recognizing the emotion as concern. Link was concerned for her. These bright blue eyes weren’t filled with hate or contempt or anything of the sort. And yet, that is exactly what she had thrown towards him. Her guilt bubbled and rose.

Zelda nodded, figuring she needed to respond in some way, the first of many things to make up for her childishness.

“I’m so glad I was here in time,” Link said. He didn’t blame her at all.

Zelda took a deep breath. She could hardly believe she was actually talking to him, having a conversation with him.

“So am I,” Zelda said in reply, Link standing back up. He offered his hand.

Zelda’s hand was hesitant as she reached to take it. Their fingertips brushed and that jolt in her heart returned. Their palms met and his fingers, his secure clasp felt like the safest thing in the world.

Link obviously took not notice of her newfound revelations as he pulled her up to standing.

He was about to detach his hand when she crumbled at the weight upon her two feet, Link hurriedly catching her other arm to keep her up.

“Your Highness?” Link asked, searching the pain in her face before his gaze went down to her foot, floating around her other ankle.

“I think I hurt my foot,” she said. “When I was running.”

Her face winced again as she tried to put weight on it. Link felt the way she clamped his hand.

“Don’t try,” he insisted. “We’ll get back to Gerudo Town, don’t worry.”

Zelda nodded as Link looked at how far it was. The distance wasn’t too great, but it was nothing he would ever force her to walk in her condition.

“Your Highness,” he said, returning his gaze. “Is it alright if I carry you?”

Zelda gave quick nods in affirmation.

Link brought one arm around her upper back and another behind her knees. Before she knew it, Zelda felt Link sweep her off her feet and into his strong hold. She slid her arms loosely around his neck.

“I’ll leave you with the guards at the front entrance,” Link said as he walked holding her. “They’ll take care of you. It’s obvious you feel I’m not the right knight attendant for you. I’ll go ahead and inform the king. The Gerudo will protect you from the Yiga until the king finds someone better suited to your standards.”

“No,” Zelda said. Link looked at her with a very slight surprise. Zelda wondered if she was getting better at reading those calm waters of his or if he was getting better at expressing them. “I want you.”

Zelda watched his neutrality return as his glance shifted beyond her to Gerudo Town. She wondered if he heard her before he spoke again.

“There’s a way for me to get into Gerudo Town,” Link said. “Urbosa told me about it and it does work. If you would like me to stay with you--”

“I do,” Zelda interrupted.

Link said no more, but Zelda could feel him changing from walking a straight line to veering away, likely to avoid the main entrance.

She stayed in his arms in silence, eventually tipping her head against his chest and waiting until the rhythm of his steps subsided. Zelda’s head popped up as he placed her against the outside wall of Gerudo Town.

Zelda could tell they were at the very backside, Link bringing a single finger to his mouth. They may not be seen but they could very well be heard, the throne room very close. Urbosa may know of the secret way in, but her own attendants and warriors did not.

Zelda watched with her back against the stone wall as Link dug in the sand, unearthing delicate Gerudo vai attire, hued with blues and greens. Link brushed off lingering sand as Zelda figured it out, Zelda’s hand going to her mouth.

Link stood up with the folded clothes in his hand, seeing Zelda’s silent reaction, the way her green eyes danced with an encroaching laughter.

He slightly tipped his head to one side.

Link put down the clothes, pointing at her before placing his hands over his eyes, his hands returning to his sides once he felt his point was made.

Zelda bit her lip to stop herself from laughing as she covered her eyes with her hands and closed her eyes. She heard the rustling of fabric and surprised herself by wanting to sneak a peek.

Before long, she felt his foot tap hers, the non-injured one, of course, Zelda opening her eyes to see Link standing over her.

Only he was so separated from the stoic knight she saw just a few moments ago. He was dressed in light, Gerudo fabrics and in fact made quite the convincing vai to the naked eye. Zelda in particular found herself staring at the muscles exposed by the revealing garb, his arms, his abs…

She rid herself of that train of thought by remembering he was dressed in clothes meant for a woman. Zelda stifled a laugh as best she could.

Link shook his head as he picked her back up. Zelda inwardly questioned her composure as she felt her cheeks warm at how close she was against his skin, her arms draped around his bare and, admittedly strong, shoulders.

“It’s the only way in,” she heard Link whisper as they approached a smaller entrance, a Gerudo guard nodding as they entered the town.

“I get it,” she said back, now actively resisting leaning against his chest.

“Take me to Urbosa,” Zelda said. “She will know where we can stay, and fetch a doctor. Not to mention she is likely worried sick.”

Link paced the steps up to the throne room, Urbosa standing up immediately.

“What happened?” She insisted as she walked forward.

“Link saved me from a Yiga attack,” Zelda explained. “But I hurt my ankle beforehand trying to run.”

“Take her to my chambers upstairs,” Urbosa said, addressing Link. “I’ll fetch a doctor immediately.”

Link nodded.

[reachexceedinggrasp]

So the majority of the shows I’ve seen lately can be charitably described as ‘light entertainment’, including the ones with dark elements or more weighty, ponderous plots. They might be entertaining or interesting, they just... don’t stand up to scrutiny. Turn your brain off because this isn’t that carefully or skilfully made and you’ll only be annoyed if you start thinking about it as a whole. Including the last couple 'tragic’ historical dramas I’ve watched, which were not effective tragedy for that very reason. If you’re going to kill off the main cast, you have to earn it, and overwhelmingly writers don’t. Anyway, I’ve been getting despondent about whether stories which actually hang together and form a coherent narrative unit with consistent themes are the exception rather than the rule.

(And I feel like that should be a pretty low standard to meet, it’s sort of Step 1 of ‘being a story’: be about something! Communicate something, no matter how basic it is. Dead simple stories with rock basic messages can be revelatory! Just do it well!)

I’ve seen very little genuinely focussed or meaningful storytelling in my ventures for what feels like a long time. Basically, I can kind of count on one hand the number of films or dramas or whathaveyou I’ve seen from the last few years where it felt like the filmmakers were in complete control of their story and everything in it was purposeful and intentional. Most things have felt slapdash or shallow or fleeting. Story elements and character choices come out of nowhere just to derail already concluded arcs and fill screen time with empty repetitious drama, not to serve a meaningful narrative purpose. I would be watching with zero confidence anything in particular was going anywhere or that the writers knew where that should be. It’s just throwing shit at the wall, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants type writing all the time and it fucking shows.

But then I watched Money Flower.

Money Flower is different. Money Flower is towering head and shoulders above every modern drama I’ve ever seen. Titanically good writing which rises above its genre and makes conventions seem radically new and fresh not by reinventing them or deconstructing them, but by playing them straight, taking them seriously, and committing 1000%. This is all your familiar rich family tropes but with masterpiece execution, infused with consequence and meaning because they’re all driven by the psychology of complex three-dimensional characters. So many moving pieces and none of them are random or unmotivated. Just... GOOD WRITING. And I want to make the point that it is this wherein art lives. The difference between a rank Lifetime movie and Romeo and Juliet is not novelty or tropes or plot twists- it’s execution.

This show is such a perfect example that it is not ‘mere events’ (aka plot) or novelty or shock value or cool ideas which separates something brilliant and timeless from forgettable schlock; it is solely and entirely execution. It’s writing itself, if you know what I mean. You can describe many of Shakespeare’s tragedies and history plays as soap opera plots. What makes Macbeth a deathless masterwork and Death Wish Hollywood wank isn’t a fundamental difference in subject or genre. It’s Shakespeare’s characterisation and purposeful storytelling. It’s the poetry of the dialogue. It’s the craft of writing. Most of Shakespeare’s plots are based on existing stories or on historical events and that has never mattered because novelty is not an inherent good or of any inherent artistic value.

Like, this is the problem with storytelling right now blah blah GOT, shitty endings everywhere etc. because power over the audience (can’t let anyone guess the plot, looking ‘clever’ with meaningless callbacks) and novelty are valued over narrative structure or things making sense or emotional verisimilitude. We have so many writers thinking being ‘shocking’ is all it takes to be a genius. It’s easy to be shocking if your story makes no goddamn sense because things that don’t make sense are literally unpredictable. Not in a good way, though. A great twist or sudden swerve needs to be unexpected but inevitable in hindsight or it does not work. I should be able to rewatch your thing and think ‘oh, of course! you can see it was [x] all along!’

We have so many popular writers now who are so shallow they don’t think anything needs to make sense on a character or emotional level. They don’t think their story has to be about anything. Substance is irrelevant as long as the surface is flashy enough. That has no staying power, you can only watch it once and you will forget about it quickly.

However, if you have ever wanted to experience the constant heightened stakes and High Drama of a soap opera without being annoyed at how ridiculous it all is and while actually giving a shit about the characters because they feel like real human beings, if you’ve wanted to feel repercussions when characters make choices, and get the emotional payoff that is the entire point of drama- now you can. Watch Money Flower. And let me tell you, it is fucking riveting. This show is mostly made up of people sitting in rooms talking and yet it is heart-pounding excitement nearly every episode. It is profoundly traditional and by the book while being totally fresh. It’s the most engrossing and satisfying artistic experience I’ve had in a long time.

Like, THE TENSION, THE DRAMA, THE REVEALS!!! You can, in fact, spend most of 24+ hours on the edge of your seat about family problems and business mergers. It seems unlikely, but that is the power of this series, it creates insanely high stakes and mesmerising suspense out of the most commonplace ingredients. Familiar plot elements become brand new and surprising under the deftness and tightness of this narrative. The plot itself is certainly 100% melodrama but it never feels like a soap opera and is never ever soapy in in a pejorative sense because it handles its classic tropes with such maturity and nuance that it's like you've never seen them before. The writing is incredible.

It is on an entirely different level than the vast majority of dramas, with a total self-assurance that keeps the pacing relentless yet unhurried- taking its time to let the impact of events be felt, the narrative always knowing exactly where it’s going and how to get there. The characters are all multi-faceted and unpredictable without ever being incoherent, their motives and goals always being gradually uncovered in more detail that only makes the storytelling and characterisation even tighter, even richer. The twists and cliffhangers are always mind-blowing but always earned, never cheap or nonsensical, and I can't remember ever thinking that about another show. (There’s literally one exception towards the very end where something a bit random happens for reasons of pure symbolism- it’s a misstep imo but it’s minor in the scheme of things)

Every time I started to doubt the writing, started to think ‘oh no, they’re going off the rails’, they showed me I was wrong and they were in total control. The only 'problem' with the show is that the drama is also profoundly painful to watch unfold, particularly in the beginning, because it's a story where everyone makes terrible life choices and moral corruption is everywhere. It's hypnotic though, like a car crash. If you can handle something dark, insidious, cerebral, and character-driven there is nothing I've seen in the same vein that can approach its brilliance. It’s like The Magnificent Ambersons as a slick modern revenge drama. There is also (PRECIOUSLY!!) a core of stunning romanticism around which all the horrors revolve and that saves it from becoming hideous or cynical. There is a chance for redemption and a new beginning after all, in spite of all appearances.

The ending has apparently been controversial, and it is definitely not quite as climatic as you would have expected given how powerfully climatic almost every regular episode is, but it's a good ending. There isn't full closure, they don't provide final resolution in a bow, but to me it's an ending about hope. It suggests optimism for our characters and I was satisfied with that. It's extremely rare for a 'revenge story’ to allow this kind of room for healing and it can do that because, imo, we discover in the end that it wasn't ultimately vengeance in Pil Joo’s heart. He has not become a tragic hero who will be consumed by the cannibalistic darkness of revenge, his quest was for justice. He teeters on the edge of the abyss but he avoided falling in; he didn't sell his soul, at least not irrevocably.

He is nonetheless a very tragic figure and an anti-hero, but despite having dedicated his life to bringing down the Jang cabal, it’s not that he’ll stop at nothing. He will make any personal sacrifice no matter how desolate, he lives as a mere husk of a man, and he facilitates enormous emotional harm to others in service of his goals, but he has ethical hard lines he never considers crossing. His sense of decency and compassion is never extinguished; he does care about the collateral damage he is causing even when making justifications for it. It’s important to him to give people as much agency as possible in their choices, to mitigate the damage done by his schemes as much as he can. To try to prevent harm coming to undeserving bystanders. Not that this makes it okay that he uses people, which he does, but the point is he never completely surrenders his moral compass to avarice. He’s never okay with burning down the world or ruining innocent lives just to get to his target.

Pil Joo is less a vigilante and more an avenging angel, he wants justice more than retribution. He wants fairness and a better, safer world where what has happened to his family won’t happen again. The reason this story never becomes Sweeney Todd (aka: a full on tragedy where we see the inevitable outcome of lust for revenge) and the reason he can survive twenty years spent pursuing someone’s downfall is exactly that principle. Searching for retribution would have destroyed him, he would have become the very thing he hated, but instead he goes as far as necessary to publicly expose the Jangs for what they are and then willingly submits to penance for his complicity in their crimes and tries to atone with the people he hurt along the way. Purged, he’s symbolically reborn and takes back his real name to maybe finally have a chance at the life he should have had. He moves on, content, a positive force. He’s capable of healing from the ordeal because he realises he doesn’t need retaliation, just seeing them stopped and facing consequences for their actions is enough.

The love story is a superbly poignant part of this. Their love is the ‘victim’ of his revenge and it will forever be impacted by it, but it’s not something that can be killed, so there’s still hope. Mo Hyeon’s bookending rescues of Pil Joo from death mean first that he has a purpose he must fulfil and then the second time that he has freedom to finally live as himself, for himself. There’s a future. And maybe they can be together there. I’m emo about it.

Anyway, if there was the slightest doubt about me becoming a long-term Jang Hyuk fangirl, it’s been put to rest. This performance is easily one of the best I’ve ever seen, period. No contest it’s the best I’ve seen in a tv drama. It’s also the most subtle and masterful turn he's delivered in his whole career. He's so restrained, but he is giving absolutely everything; he has total control over every microexpression, every gesture, every molecule in his body. There is so much simmering under his surface, so much going on in his eyes; the layers and depths are endless. The intensity and sharp intellectual focus he brings to the character is breathtaking. Everyone else is doing amazing work too, but he is almost constantly on screen and has this spectacular command of such a sprawling story, such a complex character, and he makes it look effortless. All artifice has melted away. The fact that being so tightly contained is in stark contrast to the bombastic element in many of his other roles renders its delicate precision even more startlingly impressive. I thought he was a great actor before, but I didn’t fully appreciate what he was capable of until Pil Joo.

[aitheros]

00, 01, 02, 03, 04, 05

00.  the fool  :  what are your muse’s thoughts on new beginnings ? does it frighten them or excite them ?

sting did not love new beginnings at first, because they genuinely terrified him. he tries to find reasons to be excited about change, but deep down it sparks some anxiety. when he becomes fixated on the way things are in his life, he becomes comfortable. discomfort is something he doesn’t like to deal with. after the grand magic games, and seeing how positive some change can be, he’s becoming more opening to new beginnings. 

01.  the magician  :  how does your muse feel about fate ? do they believe they can change their own destiny ?

answered !

02.  the high priestess  :  how does your muse make decisions ? do they trust their instinct or would they rather trust their heart / their logic ?

answered !

03.  the empress  :  does your muse have parental / nurturing figures in their life ? how do they impact them ?

yikes. so, sting’s time with parental figures was fleeting, but very significant nonetheless. sting only have vague memories of his mother, whom he loved dearly, as he was 8 when he had to say goodbye to her. since he doesn’t remember his biological father, only through a few stories — weisslogia became his primary paternal figure. jiemma was another significant figure in his life.

for sting’s mother, she brought out his softer side — the side of him that is so naive, affectionate, caring and gentle. elaine was important for his emotional maturity and how he expresses his feelings and love. she was a source of safety and brought out the child in him. since she wasn’t in his life for long, he’s more closed off about these sides of him.

with jiemma, ( a relationship i’ve touch on already ) he made sting more detached from his softer side. jiemma brought out the worst parts of sting — his arrogance, blinding confidence, strategic nature, and even hints of cruelty. jiemma taught sting the importance of how one presents themselves to the world, and how being feared should be celebrated.

weisslogia was the closest thing to a father for him. at risk of rambling, i’ll keep it short for this post. weiss was the first being who helped sting realize that he could be strong. that he was capable of being a survivor through the most trying feats. he encouraged sting every day to live up to his potential, but not lose his humanity in the process. as a role model, he was the ideal balance. weisslogia encouraged sting and believed in him when he struggled to for himself. they shared profound trust in one another, and sting having to put him down was the hardest thing he ever had to do. while weiss left him both physically and emotional strong at a young age, he also left him incredibly vulnerable when it came to giving love others.

tldr: elaine taught him to love others. jiemma taught him to love his hatred. weisslogia taught him to love himself.

04.  the emperor  :  how much respect does your muse have for authority ? why is this ?

sting is someone who likes to offer respect where respect is earned. he believes that powerful titles are just that — titles. not an indication on whether someone is deserving of such high appraisal and worth. he does try to uphold his best behavior around certain authority figures, for the sake of his own self preservation. if it’s in his best interest / want to be polite and passive, he will do so because he’s smart. but as soon as his desire to continue such amicable relations cease ? he has no problem showing his true colors. ( ie: sting with jiemma ) he believes authority is something that also needs to be deserving, and it’s something that only the people can truly give. as soon as someone does something that shows they are undeserving of such power, he has no qualms about rebelling or seeing them fall.

05.  the hierophant  :  what are your muse’s morals / ethics ? do they follow their moral code strictly ?

answered !

MAJOR ARCANA HEADCANONS.   ╱   not accepting !

[amelia-pinches]

a very long rant about Patricia Williamson

I also have something written about the overall thematic themes for each season and their significance that I was gonna post first, but I can’t finish it because my mind keeps going back to this.

Before I begin with all the negatives I have to say about what the writers did to her, I would like to state that she is my favorite character. Patricia was the first character that I truly resonated with as a kid, and I still do to this day. However, I can’t ignore how her character development was cut for plots sake, and how so much of her personal story is so incomplete. I feel like the writers used her as a leg to lean on whenever they needed drama, or a simple fix. Granted, she has more backstory than other characters like Fabian or Amber. Nonetheless, for Patricia, something about her personal story feels off to me. Maybe it's because I see myself so much in her that I have a personal bias for her closure, but I like to think I am so invested because I feel as if she had so much unused potential. 

Starting off with S3, we see a new Patricia compared to the previous seasons. Her hair has changed, and her style seemingly has matured  HOA has used a style change to symbolize a personality shift. In S2, Alfie acknowledged his style change representing a personality change, as he stated it was a new year for a new Alfie. Granted, he said he changed his style for Amber, but I think he changed it to feel better about himself. Getting Amber gave him the confidence he didn’t necessarily have before, and in S2 we see him standing up for himself more often than he did in S1, and he was more assertive in S2 compared to S1. In season 3, Joy said the reason for her style change was for the same reason: to find a new Joy. In fact, Joy’s style change was an important part of her arc in S3. She was letting go of her old self, and really letting go of the past she desperately tried to recreate in S2. She updated her style -”its Joy, but a new Joy”- and her style was a reflection of her personality shift; Joy, but matured. 

Yet, with Patricia, we didn’t see that change that should have happened. If anything, her personality regressed to S1. I personally don’t think that Patricia at the end of S2 would have treated KT with such cruelty that she did; I definitely think that she would have not liked her and her jealousy could have caused some rude comments. It is S1 Patricia that would have had no issue treating KT how she did, but S2 Patricia would have held back. S1 Patricia was angry, and in S2, we see her less angry and more reserved. I like to think that after the events of S1 and throughout S2, she rethought her beliefs and morals. In S3, we should have seen her act on these new found morals, but instead she resorted back to that anger from S1. I remember watching S3 and waiting for that moment where everything clicks, yet that never happened.  We never got an explanation to her any of her behavior in S3. We know she is extremely jealous, but why? Jealousy has its roots with deep seated issues. I don’t believe her jealousy is caused by not trusting Eddie, but rather something internal. I’m pretty sure that its been accepted due to her feeling inadequate in her family life which transfers to every other part in her life. Only problem is we never get any actual confirmation to this. We don’t get much confirmation about her character in the show actually. We know what we can assume, but it's still up for debate. Patricia’s character fluctuates so greatly that it's so hard to pinpoint who she is, or what she wants. 

Throughout the show, Patricia is disconnected from everyone else around her. Even when she does connect, it's not really a full connection. The only time where I think where she had a true vulnerable connection with someone is Alfie in S1. Other than that, all of the other instants where she is supposedly connecting with someone, she is still holding back. There is always a wall between her and everyone else. While Eddie does break a majority of those walls, he still hasn’t broken all of them. They never have a point where they talk about all of their problems and resolve them. I would like to note that I am a huge Peddie fan, and it is my OTP, however it does a lot of issues that I can’t ignore. Communication is Peddie’s weakest area, but there was no shown effort in resolving it. They don’t sit down and try to listen to each other or just say what's wrong, despite how hard it is. They have a couple of cute one-liners, but that still doesn’t fix the root of the problem. Then with Joy, their relationship starts to slowly drift apart in S2. Joy is trying to overcompensate for the previous year, and Patricia doesn’t know how to comfort her in a way that was needed. Consequently, red flags were ignored, and their friendship began to dissolve. Thus in S3, it is so obvious that they are no longer best friends, and they are just friends. Nevertheless, I have the feeling that even before the start of the show, Patricia didn’t 100% connect with Joy. Yes, they had great chemistry (and probably were gay for each other on some level), but Patricia held back. After all, Joy didn’t know Eddie was Patricia’s first kiss, which tells me that Patricia never talked about personal things like relationships. Joy knows Patricia very well, but that wall is still there. 

We also never really get to see Patricia shine, per se. Yes, she had some important moments, but those were all in support of the plot. Even with Eddie, her part felt more like aid to his character development than hers. I really wish we got to see a moment where she was the main focus, even if it was a small moment. The show has all this buildup for her own moment, and it never happens. With the moments that are supposed to be “hers”, they fall flat or are so lackluster that they are barely anything.  All of her moments are for support of other characters. She mainly stays in the back, hidden unless she is needed. I think the best example of this is her relationship with Piper. It was resolved so quickly without going into detail about anything. (I’ll go into how the Piper-Patricia story-line was so undeserving and unimpressive later.) I feel like the drama with Piper was merely there so it could transition to Eddie’s secret being exposed. Basically, the parts where it should be about her and her character are misused in order to fulfill a plot line, rather than to fulfill herself.

I want to address the whole Patricia-Piper thing. I don’t know what to call it to be honest.. Aside from the fact how their relationship dynamic would have been great for Patricia’s character, their relationship dynamic should have been in the show simply because it would have been something people could have looked up or related to. I don’t have siblings, so sibling relationships confuse me to death. Still, they intrigue me tremendously. Youtuber, Ladyknightthebrave, talked about Hollywood's depiction of siblings in her video essay about Fleabag (I strongly recommend watching this if you have seen Fleabag because honestly it's so great). In it she describes how Hollywood loves brother-brother or brother-sister relationships, but sister-sister relationships are rarely shown in a light that is meaningful. I can’t help but agree with her, even though I don’t have siblings of my own. There are plenty of examples of brother-brother or brother-sister relationships in the media that are done so well and are so familiar to people, despite having a brother or not. I personally feel like that sister-sister relationships are done in a manner that's so simplified. With that said, Poppy-Jerome’s relationship goes into great detail; we can really see the dynamic and issues of their relationship. We see how they need each other as brother and sister and how they support each other. Yet, Patricia and Piper’s relationship was so downplayed. Their “big moment” where they try to connect with one another and try to understand each other was  “‘I’m jealous of you because ___.’ ‘Well I’m jealous of you because___.’”, and that's it. It was abrupt and crude. There was no depth to their conversation, and if given the necessary depth, I truly think almost everyone could have related to their relationship. I just feel the audience, as well as Patricia, deserved that connection. Like, Patricia didn’t evolve from this. She remained the same as before. It didn’t affect her facade at all. After it was over, it was like it barely happened.

In the entirety of the show, we see Patricia through her facade. Sometimes, we can see cracks in it, but in the end, we never see her drop her act completely. When she seemingly does, it is practically nulled later on. Patricia’s words go against all of her actions constantly. Despite the fact that she has all the ideals of rebellion, unless you count Joy’s search as an act of rebellion, we never see her actually rebel for her own purpose. When she rebels or speaks out, it's for sibuna’s agenda, not her own. She told Piper to “dare to fail” even though we have never seen her do this. In fact, we have never seen her succeed either. We see what she wants us to see. HOA really should have had at least one point where her facade breaks, and the audience gets see what she is really thinking and what she really wants. It is not like they couldn’t fit it in because I could think of plenty of times where that moment would have fit in perfectly or even better than what was given.

I really don’t think the HOA writers and producers put much thought into the overall effect and really used her a way to make the plot continue in an easy way. I do understand why they did it - to a certain extent. The show is made for kids, and kids usually don’t really care about character development or arc. However, I think Patricia’s character could have been such a significant character for kids. Like I said, I relate to Patricia a lot, and I think others do as well. I also think if she had some sort of defining character arc, her character could have spoken to many people, young and old. There’s something so relatable about her, even with the lack of a defining arc. I feel like her character had so much potential, and HOA really missed a chance at creating a character so iconic. But in the end, there was no fluent character development. This leads her to feel like a more relatable side character at times viruses a main character.

[thrandilf]

Sunrise at Sunset

SPOILERS FOR NADIA’S ROUTE BOOK 19 THE SUN

-~-

Lack of confidence had never been a problem for Valerius- until put under pressure, apparently. He looked out at the sunlit vineyards of the Hierophant’s realm and sighed. A patio with vines winding round the support beams framed the fields in a rustic, charming way. A bowl of grapes was set invitingly out on a table but he ignored them.

Valerius closed his eyes, hot shame coiling deep in his stomach. All he desired was to become a great leader for Vesuvia- and that had been his very downfall. He’d been a proud Vesuvian all his life, his calling had always been to provide for his people, to represent them and be their diplomat. He existed to serve, to preserve their way of life and be a beacon of stability. He swallowed hard. His fear driven dealings and whispered self doubt had turned him into an ineffective leader to rival Lucio.

“Come now, no one looks upon my vineyards with that face.” The Hierophant’s deep soothing voice sounded directly behind Valerius, a clawed hand resting on his shoulder as another slid a glass of wine into his hand. “Make it too much and it’ll be put on a statue.”

Valerius’s face was tinged pink with embarrassment, shame poignant in his heart. He’d become the very enemy he despised. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know.”

“I disappointed you- and more.”

“Yes.” The casual confirmation of his failures made his throat clench. Valerius took a sip of wine out of habit and still averted his eyes as the Hierophant stood before him. “But then, my pupil, you rose above all else and have made me prouder than I have ever been.”

The praise would’ve been welcome under any other circumstance. “I have barely begun to atone for what I’ve done.”

The Hierophant gently tilted Valerius’s head upwards. “That you feel remorse for losing yourself is good- but do not bask in it. There is much rejoicing for a man to come back to the light after he has lost his way. What defines you is that you came back. You retained the good in you.” The ram creature smiled and toasted out to the vast lush fields. “You are too stubborn to give yourself up all the way, child. As is our tradition.” The Hierophant slid his arm down to rest around Valerius’s waist, the warmth and forgiveness easing some of the pain in Valerius’s soul.

Valerius sighed again and rested into the half embrace. “Thank you. All those problems I had- it seems so small.” He idly traced his fingertip along the rim of his wineglass. “I should’ve had the city repaired and flourished when Nadia awoke. I know now that I am capable. I always have been. I just- I- I should’ve asked the right people for council. You, my patron. I was so blind. I could’ve been adored by a safe and contented people.”

“You are standing at my side, and I am the only one with the horns this time.” The Hierophant’s glass magically refilled itself as he gave Valerius a look close to fondness. “You will succeed. It is your nature, when on your correct path.”

Valerius finally managed to weakly toast back, still feeling undeserving of the magically perfected wine on his previously barbed tongue but enjoying the bright fruity taste nonetheless. “I hope I can prove you chose me well.”

“You already have, my dear.”

[lovehaswonangelnumbers]

New Post has been published on https://lovehaswonangelnumbers.org/3957-2/

Horoscopes for June 23rd – 30th, 2019 ~ Limitations Revealed

By Nadia Gilchrist

Overview

June 23rd sees Venus in Gemini opposing Jupiter Rx, which suggests a review of desirable promises/choices. A hard aspect to Jupiter can exaggerate, and Venus’ square to Neptune Rx on June 24th will add delusion and fantasy to financial, relationship or self-esteem matters. But Jupiter and Neptune are both Rx, so you’ll be encouraged to look twice and ask questions. Plus, Venus’ awkward inconjunct to Saturn Rx in Capricorn (June 23rd) will bring an inconvenient limit that cannot be ignored. 

Mercury enters Leo on June 26th, putting communication and information in the spotlight. Words become bold, attention-grabbing and stubborn, but Mercury will station Rx in this sign on Jul 7th, so what initially comes out will not be the final word. The Sun (ruler of Leo) in Cancer squares Wounded Healer Chiron (in Aries) on June 27th, suggesting that Mercury’s Leo ingress may reveal some painful, ego-denting issues. 

Aries

Aspects to Venus in your communication sector can reveal an elusive idea or promise. Flirtations, creative visions or fabulous words may trigger impulsive attractions or temptations. However, pay attention to a professional rule or authority  – it’s not compatible with what’s tempting you. 

Mercury into your sector of self-expression can add to the flirtatious vibe as your words gain power and the ability to attract. Your thoughts may turn to fun, romance or risky prospects – good for expressing your true thoughts without limits. However, the Sun in your domestic sector square Chiron in your sign can dredge up painful family issues  that trigger new wounds. You may feel vulnerable with those you’re supposed to feel safest with. 

Taurus

Aspects to Venus in your sector of personal resources can stir up promises of more money but can also increase the urge to spend more. A financial opportunity should be viewed with caution, as should any social situations where there’s a risk of undermining yourself. Watch for rules/limits in the areas of travel, education, legal matters or publishing to keep you in check. 

Mercury into your domestic sector can increase family discussions with a focus on pride, ego or the urge for self-expression. The Sun in your communication sector square Chiron insists that conversations will not be easy – hidden or unacknowledged sensitivities can make discussions very touchy. Proceed with caution. 

Gemini

Aspects to Venus in your sign suggest romantic misunderstandings, professional disillusionment or projected ideals that don’t match reality. A partnership can be tricky, even as your hopes are raised. Pay attention to background limits/boundaries around intimacy or shared finances – there’s a hidden reality check. 

Mercury into your communication sector can increase the tempo of all ingoing and outgoing information, with a distinct colouring of pride, playfulness and creativity. However, the Sun in your sector of personal resources square Chiron suggests a financial or emotional issue can be your weak spot, as you feel “less than” or undermined by a friend or public influence. Others will impact you, but you still have control over how you react. 

Cancer

Aspects to Venus in your hidden sector suggest escapism, delusion or overindulgence in something you haven’t been fully admitting to. A partner or competitor can bring a tough reality check, but you’ll have to balance that with excessive restrictions that force you to choose something you don’t want. 

Mercury into your sector of personal resources puts the focus on earned money and values – you may be discussing more or demanding more, but the Sun in your sign square Chiron can also illuminate difficulties with a job or someone in authority. Questions about whether you’re worth the money (or whether you have the confidence to ask for more) could be issues. A new area of ambition could leave you feeling vulnerable or undeserving (which doesn’t mean it’s something you should walk away from). 

Leo

Aspects to Venus in your social sector can amplify an attraction, flirtation or euphoric connection with others. Your public image can expand, but it can also be undermined by hidden addictions or lack of boundaries. Be careful who you trust and what you put out there – obligations involving work and health will trigger some undesirable choices. 

Mercury into your sign boosts your ability to grab others with your words, or it could signal a moment when you decide to go public. But the Sun in your hidden sector square Chiron points to private insecurities, or a secret that can be debilitating if you don’t deal with it. Before you speak out, make sure you have a handle on what’s hidden. 

Virgo

Aspects to Venus in your career sector can expand your hopes for a job opportunity or see you enjoying a boost to your professional image/connection with someone in authority. However, be very careful in your dealings with others: a one-on-one connection can undermine or mislead you, and you’ll also be dealing with limits around what you want. 

Mercury into your hidden sector can see you pulling back, keeping secrets or looking behind the scenes for more information. The Sun in your social sector square Chiron suggests public embarrassments or social insecurities (triggered by deeper issues of a financial or emotional nature) could be part of this. You may feel exposed.

Libra

Aspects to Venus in your sector of opportunities can expand your hopes for a long-distance romance or issues around travel, education, legal matters or publishing. An announcement, promise or grand idea can see you looking for more or ignoring the practical details. However,  what you overlook can undermine you, and you’ll have to deal with domestic responsibilities or limits that anchor you. Nonetheless, don’t give up on the new development – choose wisely and go slow. 

Mercury into your social sector can accelerate the pace of contacts with others or give you  a public forum for your words. But the Sun in your career sector square Chiron suggests that professional doubts (connected to a partner or competitor) can undermine your authority or focus on the future. Consider if the other person is revealing a valuable truth or is actively trying to destabilize you. 

Scorpio

Aspects to Venus in your sector of shared resources can encourage you to overspend, give too much or expect too much from a partner. While there’s a definite romantic or indulgent vibe here, it will be easy to go too far. Listen to someone’s “No” or pay attention to an official rule/document that makes the choice non-negotiable. 

Mercury into your career sector suggests emphasis on discussions with management or a professional announcement. But the Sun in your sector of opportunities square Chiron suggests doubts about stepping into a new area or moving outside your comfort zone. Pay attention to practical concerns (health or work related) but don’t let them stop you from stepping forward. 

Sagittarius

Aspects to Venus in your relationship sector (including the opposition to Jupiter Rx in your sign) can trigger illusions and false choices in a partnership. You may be projecting more onto a partner, or you might be questioning the integrity of their choices (especially where domestic issues are involved). Finances and defining your values will deliver some hard reality checks. 

Mercury into your sector of opportunities can open your eyes to new possibilities in the areas of travel, education, legal matters or publishing. There’s more and better to consider/learn about, but the Sun in your sector of shared resources, square Chiron, will also be stirring up disappointments and vulnerabilities in the areas of shared finances or intimacy. Look carefully at what’s going on behind the scenes. 

Capricorn

Aspects to Venus in your sector of routine can expand your faith in a possible health or work solution. Too, you could be feeling more indulgent as you decide to let certain things slide. But the inconjunct to Saturn Rx in your sign will be an awkward remembrance that there are limits you cannot ignore. Certain responsibilities are non-negotiable. 

Mercury into your sector of shared resources can see you looking beneath the surface or having sensitive discussions about debts, taxes, your partner’s finances or intimacy. The Sun in your relationship sector square Chiron suggests awkward issues in a domestic partnership may come up, including the balance of finances or emotions. 

Aquarius

Aspects to Venus in your sector of self-expression suggest a dreamy attraction, reason to celebrate or desire to indulge/show off. You can certainly enjoy yourself here, but pay attention to questions about money or undermining choices – a background limit or hint that you need to apply some boundaries will be important. 

Mercury into your partnership sector suggests intensified relationship conversations or the introduction of someone who grabs your attention with their words/bold ideas. But the Sun in your sector of routine square Chiron can stir up cautions about health or work issues – you may have some awkward conversations about what you can’t deliver or errors that need to be corrected. 

Pisces

Aspects to Venus in your domestic sector (including the square to Neptune Rx in your sign) suggest unclear but tempting choices regarding a family or career situation. Domestic issues can be confusing and you may have to look more closely at what you’re avoiding. Social judgments and authority will clarify what you can’t have. 

Mercury into your sector of routine shifts your focus to practical matters of work, health and corrections. The Sun in your sector of self-expression square Chiron can undermine your confidence as worries about money or values make you question if you have what it takes. 

Photo by Lukáš Dlutko from Pexels

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[everysongineverykey]

Wonder- Another Solinh fanfic because i’m trash okay

Fitz Vacker wonders.

He wonders many things. He wonders what his family’s legacy really is, behind all the crystals and beauty, behind even the twisted abominations of trolls hiding behind an illusion of light and a perfect reputation. He wonders about his friends, about all their little idiosyncrasies, their imperfections, the quirks that make them… human.

He wonders, most of all, about Sophie Foster, and the secret she hides from him in that dark, discreet, beautiful mind of hers.

And whether or not it’s the secret he wants so badly for it to be.

But after all, Fitz is no fool. He knows there’s someone special that she’s hiding from him- and in all likelihood, it’s either him or Keefe. If he knows anything about the beautiful, mysterious, perfect brown-eyed girl that means so much to him, it’s that she’ll tell him anything- except if it’s in any way romantic.

He tries so hard to get it out of her, every time they train, telling her that Cognates aren’t supposed to have any secrets from each other- which, after all, is true. The bond between his father and his Cognate was shattered after his father refused to tell him about the search for Sophie. And he wants to make sure that doesn’t happen to them.

It definitely doesn’t have to do with the fact that to him, Sophie’s eyes are more deep and mysterious and different than anyone else’s.

Or the fact that she looks amazing in anything she wears.

But Fitz knows patience as well as beauty, and he’ll gladly wait a thousand years until she’s ready to tell him.

Biana Vacker wonders.

Unlike her brother, though, she only really wonders about one thing- love.

She knows what love feels like. For her it was Keefe, and now Tam. It was the boy she’d only exchanged a few words with after school, but loved his eyes and hair and how he never quite looked her in the eye.

Biana also knows what love looks like. She has to- after all, she’d built up a reputation for herself as the matchmaker of the group. She wonders about everyone’s love.

But today, she only wonders about one love- Fitz’s love for Sophie.

Oh yes, he is in love. He tries to deny it, but Biana can see from the way he looked at her, and the way his eyes always seem to brighten when she is around.

And that’s why it breaks Biana’s heart to know that Sophie is in love too.

But not with Fitz.

Biana knows her best friend, and she knows that there is no way Sophie could ever be in love with Fitz.

But not because there’s anything wrong with Fitz.

Because she’s seen the way Sophie looks at Linh when she thinks no one can tell.

She’s seen the way her eyes shine with joy whenever the girl with the silver-tipped hair walks into the room.

She’s seen the red in Sophie’s face skyrocket whenever they share a look, a smile, a hug, even a brief touch of the hands.

Biana doesn’t know what Linh’s feelings for Sophie are, but she still refrains from telling Fitz her thoughts on the subject.

After all, she doesn’t want Fitz’s eyes to fill with misery and longing, instead of wonder and hope, whenever the two stare into each other’s eyes for a training session.

Sophie Foster wonders, too.

Wonders if what Dex said to her- that Fitz and Keefe both have crushes on her- is true.

Wonders if they’ll still be friends when they confess.

Wonders how they’ll feel about her feelings- the ones for Linh.

Because as oblivious as Sophie is to the love of others, she is very much aware of her own.

She doesn’t like it. She doesn’t want to be in love with someone who’d never love her back- but it’s true, and very real.

But even if she does confess, will Linh accept her?

It’s difficult to say… and a risk Sophie isn’t sure she is willing to take.

But for now, at least, she’ll be content admiring Linh from afar.

It wasn’t to say she didn’t want a relationship with Linh. In fact, to say that would almost be insulting.

Linh’s everything Sophie dreams of in a partner- she just didn’t think she’d want it in a girl.

But now here she is.

From the first time she’d talked to her, even when they were underwater at Exilium and Sophie was helping her calm down, she’s always known Linh was special.

She just hadn’t gotten the chance to really see just how much she likes the girl of many floods.

But she knows now.

Truly, the first thing Sophie ever noticed about Linh was her hair.

Not much of a surprise, since the silver tips weren’t like many other people’s hair- but unlike everyone else, Linh’s hair caught Sophie’s eye because of how it made Linh look.

It wasn’t just unusual- though that was one of the things Sophie liked about it- it was almost otherworldly. There was a word to describe it: Ethereal.

Of course, it alone was beautiful, but the effect it had on Linh was amazing.

It hung stick-straight around her neck, like a silver halo. Fitting, since that was what Linh was to Sophie- an angel sent to earth.

That was the first thing Sophie noticed.

And it was all downhill from there.

Next, she began to notice other little things about Linh- the deep silver-blue of her eyes that reflected a calm night over the ocean, the soft pink of her cheeks that contrasted her wiry black hair and made her look like one of those medieval Chinese princesses they had learned about in human history, the way her face flushed when she laughed…

All of these things helped drag Sophie into love. But the thing she likes most about Linh was the way she’s carried herself ever since that day in Atlantis- she looks so confident, striding ahead with more self-assurance than Sophie could ever have.

Sophie never vocalizes these thoughts to anyone. But she studies Linh whenever she can, stealing little forbidden glances at her while they study.

And she knows that, one day, it’ll all come out.

But today.

Today is not that day.

Linh Song wonders.

Her wonders are more simple, though, and she only wonders about Sophie.

But she wonders about her every minute of every hour of every day.

And every time, she comes to the same conclusion:

One, that she loves Sophie.

And two, that Sophie doesn’t love her back.

It’s a harsh truth, but a truth nonetheless.

She knows, from the way Fitz looks at Sophie during their sessions, that there’s something between them. She isn’t sure about Keefe, but she knows that Fitzphie is less of a joke than Keefe realizes.

Even if Sophie doesn’t realize it too, it’s true.

She wishes her heart would stop pining for Sophie, wills the silly, pointless crush to go away.

But of course, when it comes to Sophie, or really just girls in general, her heart never listens.

And it doesn’t help that the fact that she can’t have her only makes her fall more and more for her. Whenever they exchange glances, the stars seem to realign for Linh, and the world suddenly makes sense. The only thing she wants is to be able to tell Sophie all these things.

She wants to tell Sophie that whenever they touch, time stands still, and the whole world blacks out.

She wants to tell Sophie that when she laughs, Linh feels so undeserving of the name Song, and flowers seem to grow underneath her feet.

She wants to say that even a look, a quick meeting of eyes, is enough to break down all her defenses.

That’s all she wants- just the freedom to say what’s on her mind without horribly regretting it.

But she can’t.

She can’t, because Sophie loves Fitz much more than she could ever love Linh.

This thought almost makes her cry sometimes, but Tam always gets there in time to comfort her.

Still, no comfort is more effective than the ecstatic feeling that rushes through Linh’s blood when Sophie is by her side.

The two girls never fully believe that they can be something together, of course, until their first kiss.

To everyone they know, the idea of their successful relationship is a good one- to the two of them, it’s a luxury that they never thought possible before now.

And yet, five hundred years later, they’re still there, and in love, and happy, living in their own house in the Lost Cities, completely aware of what people might think of them in the forbidden cities, but not caring a bit.

They’re still happy, and joyful, and full of hope and love and wonder.

They’re still them.

And that’s what they’ll always be, no matter the odds, or the enemies, or the circumstances.

Just Sophie Foster and Linh Song.

Two girls who had the courage to wonder.

[webcricket]

Unbroken

Characters: CastielXReader

Word Count: 1221

A/N: 5-minute fluffy drabble request by @eurusholmmes - “Cas? And scar kisses, but the READER gives him scar kisses?” Confession: It took me longer than 5 minutes to write because I LOVED this concept. So, now you have a short one-shot. Some mild angst consistent with Castiel’s canon skewed self-view. Ultimately fluffy.

Until you met Castiel, you didn’t believe in the notion of being loved, inside and out, without reservations, with divine patience, and with immeasurable depth of understanding. From the first innocent inklings of your friendship and tumble into the intense intimacy of a full-blown romantic affair, Castiel nurtured an unyielding desire and curiosity to understand and acknowledge every intricacy of your existence – the polished mask painted with often false confidence and cushioning sarcasm that you display for the world, the fettered margins of your soul where you lodge regret and anxiety, your silly secret hopes and dreams, the nuanced history of your human experience since your creation day, and the map of every scar, blemish, and sun-kissed freckle writ upon your physical form. You opened up your heart and mind to the angel in ways you never imagined possible, and in doing so discovered the joyful serenity of experiencing another’s wholly loving acceptance of you.

There existed only one complication between you – not the fact that he was an angel and you a human as an outsider might have guessed, but rather it was Castiel’s deeply ingrained belief in himself that he was a damaged, undeserving, and ultimately unlovable being which wedged an invisible barrier between you preventing him from accepting in return this same precious gift of love he so freely gave to you. You perceived his crippling and seemingly insurmountable self-doubt despite his attempts to hide it from you. You observed it in the defeated slouch of his shoulders when he thought you weren’t looking. Saw it in the somber glaze of his eyes when a particular failure was recalled to him. Feared it in his needlessly reckless sacrificial risks on behalf of you, the Winchesters, and humanity. Felt it trembling beneath the touch of your fingertips in the stoically suppressed frustration coiling the muscular frame of his vessel when you made love. And although you told him daily that you loved him, that your heart beat solely for him, and your soul shone brightest in his presence, he could not reconcile within himself the idea of being worthy of anyone’s love, let alone yours. He held you near in his arms and somehow simultaneously pushed you out of reach. This stubborn refusal to be loved on his part did nothing to deter you from trying.

Cuddling the angel in the coziness of your bed, senses tingling in the pleasant afterglow of lovemaking, you traced an invisible meandering path down the broad expanse of his bare torso. The scars of his vessel were as familiar to you as yours were to him, and they held none of your interest as none of the visible ones actually belonged to him. The faded red line beside his navel? Jimmy’s teenage appendectomy scar. The rough patch of silvery pink skin behind his temple where his hair rebelled in a particularly unruly curl? Third grade bicycle accident in grandma Novak’s gravel driveway. The tiny imperfection of translucent flesh above his lip? Jimmy’s carelessness in trimming a tree in front of his home in Pontiac, Illinois a mere week before the angel fatefully spoke to him. Castiel’s own scars cut deeper than you could discern with the limits of human perception, and if your eyes had been capable of viewing them, you would have wept to witness the radiance of his celestial being burdened by them.

The soft pads of your fingers caressed a smooth area of flesh over his abdomen and he flinched, the reflex nearly imperceptible, but nonetheless noticed by you. Interest piqued, you returned your attention to the unmarked spot, and again, the ever-so-subtle shiver of his frame occurred in response. You propped up on an elbow to examine the area more closely.

His palm skimmed to the curve of your hip as you rose from his warm embrace, expression resolving into an inquisitive squint as he watched the gentle probing of your fingers, asking after a moment, “What are you doing?”

“Here,” you whispered, meeting his questioning blue gaze and rubbing the unblemished skin, “there’s something here that bothers you.” You lightly stroked the place again.

Eyes dimming, he reached for your hand, guiding it away, deliberately covering the action with a tender brush of his lips to your knuckles, mumbling, “It’s nothing.”

In your heart of hearts you knew this to be untrue. Normally you would let the matter drop, understanding and respecting he was protecting himself and probably unaware even of the lie – instinctively fearful of being hurt, of adding your rejection to the extensively long list of his sufferings. But he didn’t need to shield himself against your unwavering devotion and you’d grown progressively weary of the unacknowledged walls he erected. You remembered all at once, with glowing clarity, the location of every fragment of outwardly unsullied flesh where he’d involuntarily shuddered or tenaciously redirected your attentions elsewhere during these few physically intimate weeks together. Leaning down, your parted mouth hovering over the sensitive spot in question, a sultry exhaling of breath ghosted warmly over the rippling goose-prickled skin before your lips tendered a feather-light kiss thereupon.

A shaky sigh shook his chest, the outpouring of love upon your lips penetrating the shell of his vessel to soothe the scar you intuited was hidden below the surface – a marring of his celestial being where he’d been shot by the angel-blade forged bullet he later dug out of his abdomen and used to kill one of his brothers in self-defense.

You stared up the plane of his vessel into his astonished gaping aspect, greatly pleased by his encouraging reaction. Lifting your lips from the scar, you shifted up his body to place a kiss upon his heart at the site where he’d been stabbed and mortally wounded by a reaper during his graceless stint as a human.

His fingers tightly gripped your hip, head falling back to the pillow, an airy groan rumbling from his lungs beneath your doting kiss.

You moved upward further still to kiss his vibrating throat, just below the bobbing knot of his Adam’s apple, where the scribe of God had left a concealed but deep scar while cutting out his grace in a cruel betrayal to cast the angels from Heaven. You scattered a multitude of kisses stretching the angel’s entire vessel-bound body, the permanent state of tenseness seizing his muscles diminishing with each loving caress of your lips – the self-isolating pain of his scars relieved by your recognition and acceptance of them as a distinct and beautiful part of him.

Carding your fingers through his tousled hair, you kissed last the wetly brimming salt-laced lashes shuttering his eyes. Humming into his ticklish fluttering lids the beautiful Enochian words of veneration he so often whispered to you, you sought to ease his greatest scar of all – the jaded vision he maintained of himself.

When you sweetly professed again your love for him, when he opened his gleaming blues to bask in your adoration and in the revelation of the strength of scars to reinforce us in the places where we have been torn apart in order not to remind us of failures and mistakes but to once more make us whole and stronger than before, he allowed himself to believe he was as unbroken as you perceived him to be and worthy of love.

[gxnwrought]

The King of the Old knows what secret this one carries with him, years of existing in the realm of the Ring give insight on many things. But there is no malice in him. He just gives the blond a benevolent smile. "You should not let anything but your present actions infkuence and judge you. I know Noctis only harbours amicable feelings for you and he would never resent you. You are very important to him - to many. More so than you can imagine. A King without a friend like you is lost."

@enviousking​

♜ —– A meeting betwixt the Founder King and he was outrageous to even consider. Something of an incomprehensive dream he felt, he was undeserving of; no more than a commoner amongst an authoritative rabble he had the audacity to join. And now, singularly addressed with words of reassurances such pessimistic confidence required in their time of darkness, the sharpshooter scarcely understood the Monarch’s intentions. Was it a promotion of his self-esteem, or perhaps a reminder of the importance he held in close relations to those mentioned? Nonetheless of motives for their encounter, the mere acknowledgement of his influence within all this - the pilgrimage of their retinue, and those they met along the way, sparked a newfound vitality in his chest. Did he REALLY mean that much?

Though brief in their astonishment, the crystalline abyss beyond those cerulean’s favoured the other’s kindness for his candour to reinstate meaning. It was often Prompto ruminated on those exact thoughts, but in comparison to another party, to offer legitimacy of his value… appreciation shined throughout the curl of lips, and a sudden bow of gratitude. After all, the Founder King was still a King. “T-Thanks– u-uh, your Majesty.”