#who knows whatever other magic i could unlock

[whoops-all-neurodivergency]

hey did y'all ever realize that being tired is basically sleep withdrawal and therefore sleep is a drug and drugs are bad so IN CONCLUSION we should stop sleeping✨

[gatorbites-imagines]

Bl00d k1nk remmick or just remmick headcanoans

Remmick x male reader 

Ficlet 

I dont really know much about the history, but I can still horn it up. What is reader? No idea. 

I tried to leave it vague where and when this takes place, but readers mother at least had knowledge about some Irish folklore, like the Fear Gorta.  

Imagine Remmick kinda looks like that fetus voldemort thing in the beginning of this. 

not proofread, cuz i couldnt be bothered.

TW for blood, gore, etc.

Maybe living alone hadn't been your best idea, but you had never had much of a choice. No family, and nobody was gonna take someone like you in. Born out of wedlock, to a mother who prayed to gods the “right folk” shunned, and a father who had not even been baptized. In the eyes of everyone you were as bad as any demon. 

Maybe they were right about the devil, of being hunted and lost, losing it all to a being who would only play with you before it took your soul. Your father died because of his greed, and your mother because the townspeople feared her, even after using her to cure their sicknesses for years. 

Whatever it was, devil or not, you could somehow run your little farm all on your own. Not that anybody would work for you in the first place, but it was enough. Your mother had always warned you about spirits, about the undead. Like the fae, or the Fear Gorta. 

Perhaps that was why you helped him when you first saw him. You had always been told that the Fear Gorta appeared in the shape of a starved man, stumbling along, whimpering for any help it could get. And that not helping it would cause bad luck for a long time to come. 

You had never believed much in your mother's beliefs and magic, mainly learning her herbology to use it yourself. But this felt real, the same way it had felt real when you saw them kill her. 

He looked burnt, like the piece of meat you had left on the fire for too long, because one of your goats had gotten stuck in the fence that one time. Gaunt too, like somebody who hadn't eaten for a very long time. 

“Please, stranger” rasped the figure, one you were still half convinced was a spirit of some kind. But if he wasn't a spirit, and just an unfortunate soul, then it was still your duty to help him. 

“Come on, I live not long from here” you had said, going as far as to pull your coat off your shoulders to drape of his blistered skin as you helped him up into your buggy. It was night, he must have been freezing, which made you hurry up as you pulled the wagon up the old dirt road. 

The air felt heavy, like something was pressing on your very soul as your small home grew closer. Your beloved farm dogs barking up a storm. Normally they would quiet down when they noticed it was you, but tonight they kept up their howling, sounding more and more distressed. 

“Don't mind em, they just don't like strangers. Last time other folk came here it was to try and burn it down” you half joke, glancing back at the maybe man, maybe spirit. Finally, you could see his eyes, and they made something heavy run down your spine, like thick cold molasses. 

Your skin felt cold and clammy as you parked the wagon near your front door, but for some reason you kept going. Kept moving as you unlocked it, almost carried the man inside and placed him in your rocking chair near the few kindles left from earlier, kept moving as you lifted supplies inside. 

The entire time you spoke, talking about this and that, about the farm, nature, the creek you had discovered nearby when you were a child that somehow always had fish, even during winter.  

When everything was put into place, you had wanted to find something to eat or even drink for your silent visitor. It was then that you realized how quiet it was, had he already died? On the way here, he had at least wheezed every now and then, but now it was quiet. 

“Mister?” you softly ask as you step closer, feeling your heart clench. At least you got to give him a warm place to finally let go, that must have been enough, right? You should have wrapped him in the wool skin you kept, so he could have been warm before finally letting himself rest. 

Had your mother been alive, then she would have beat you bloody for even allowing something like this inside your home. But she was long gone, there had barely been anything left to bury back then. 

Your hand was just about to rest on this scrawny man? Beings? Shoulder, when he moved. The yell couldn't even leave your lungs before something clamped down on your neck, a terrible burn spreading through your entire being as your back slammed against the floor. 

It felt like being stabbed, because of course you knew what that felt like. Your hands felt useless even as you clawed, punch and yelled, your voice gurgling as you tasted blood. 

Maybe it was delusion or blood-loss as you felt your vision swim and darken, but you swore you saw the scrawny man's body start growing, thick muscles cording across his being and hair bursting from his almost bald scalp.  

Was... was he moaning? Were those claws he was licking? Coiling his too long tongue around his own fingers to suck up your life essence as he audibly panted like a hound. 

“aint you the most delicious thing I've ever tasted” he moaned, voice rough and otherworldly, eyes like those of an animal when caught in the light. What was this? Why weren't you dead? 

There was a chunk missing from your throat, one this thing had swallowed as he slurped and lapped at your pulsing jugular vein. One he had punched a hole through with his sharp teeth like cloth caught on barbed wire. 

But you weren't dead, even as you felt your back soaking through with your own blood. Even as whatever this was rutted his naked body against you like an animal in heat. 

“Like ambrosia itself. Where did you come from, my dear?” he moaned in your ear, voice rolling like a bubbling lake, or perhaps rather a rolling pot of oil, one you were about to be thrown into. 

“Seems you were made just for me” he almost giggled, his rutting speeding up as he ground his cock against your blood-soaked slacks. You could barely see, but your heart kept racing, gushing blood from your neck with uneven spurts, each audible splatter making your attacker whiner and moan as he slobbered it all up. 

At some point he growled, something so inhuman that you shivered, gurgling through your own blood as it poured from your mouth. You barely noticed the splatter of his own essence that he spilled all over your front, as the being sank his teeth into the other side of your neck, tearing into it like a starved man. 

“I claim you. You have given yourself to no other idol, so now you are mine” he whispered, lips brushing against your ear.  

It was hard to focus as his lips pushed against your own, his blood-soaked tongue slithering into your mouth to lap up the pool of blood gathering there. There was some sick part of your brain that found this arousing, enough to make your eyes flutter for just a moment. 

“Yes... just for me” he huffed, even though you had a feeling he had no need to breathe. 

The world spun as he finally pulled back, strings of blood and drool hanging from his mouth and your wounds, his grin like a fox that had just devoured the most delicious of chickens. As he stood above you, his naked body soaked in blood, your blood, some part of you twitched with a heated feeling you couldn't identify. 

“Rest now. I will return, don't you worry” was purred, the words melting together into one muffled tone, as your eyes finally rolled all the way back, a part of you certain you would die, punished for helping a stranger. 

Only for your eyes to snap back open, blinded by the sun shining in through the windows, the whining and barking of your farm dogs at the door.  

Your neck didn't hurt, had it all been a dream? A nightmare? Some erotic fantasy from the depths of your mind? 

Thats what you thought, until you sat up, your entire body sticking to the floor. When you looked beneath you, it was all coated in blood, there was so much it must have been enough for two or three people. 

Scrambling to your feet, you stumbled towards the one tiny mirror you owned, hands flying to your neck. No wounds, as if nothing had happened. If not for the blood, you might have thought it all a fantasy. 

You didnt burn as you opened the front door, letting the bright rays of the sun wash upon you. What were you? No human should bleed that much, or survive for so long? What had been the thing that tore into you like that? Had rutted against you and moaned like it had been paid for it. 

Remmick, something in the back of your mind whispered. Remmick, Remmick, it repeated.  

A cold shiver ran down your spine as your eyes turned towards your cellar doors, an underground cellar your father had once dug. The lock was broken on the ground, splatters of blood leading towards it.  

Your heart lurched, but there was something else inside you. Something hot, hungry, burning in your gut as blood rushed south. “Remmick...” you mumble, voice scratchy and dry.  

Maybe you should dig up your mothers' old books and notes, but you would have to go into the cellar for that. Maybe your new guest could help you look for them. 

[waywardsou2]

(credits to @lucrezianoin for the video)

(Latching onto their post because I had something I needed to say)

My theory here is that look of surprise on Viktor's face is because Jayce hasn't ever made it this far, at least not in once peice.

Part of me thinks that this whole time he's been watching Jayce since he can jump multiverses or somehow knew where Jayce was at in the timeline of events he knew were to come in this timeline.

But for whatever reason Jayce never made it this far, he never made it to Piltover to find him and be able to learn what he needed to to succeed. This is the first time Viktor has seen Jayce in a form that wasn't "perfect, dead or dying.

He very well knew who was knelt in front of his Jayce but even still his eyes widen and flicker, his mouth falls open and he takes a pause that I don't think was for the dramatic effect on his part.

This is the first time he's seen Jayce whole in a few multiversal millenia.

And not to mention Jayce, his face of disbelief and probable realisation that everything up to this point had somehow always been connected to Viktor, that even from the beginning it was Viktor who set him on the path of his obsession with the arcane and anything magical.

His whole face softens, he was tired, he was confused, he was angry. And some part of him probably blamed this mage. If he hadn't been given the crystal, he wouldn't have perused magic, Viktor wouldn't have been caught up in all of this and maybe they could have just been professors together at the academy. But then it turns out that it was Viktor, it somehow was always Viktor

Also, that fact that both of their pupils dilate slightly which happens when looking at something you love. It's not like it was the light or anything they are both very well lit up with bright eyes. They are looking at the person they hold most dearest.

Jayce knows if he fails, he loses Viktor, he loses his life and he risks the lives of many others

Viktor knows that if things haven't worked out in the correct order, he is doomed to watch himself and Jayce tear each other apart all over again.

This also means that Viktor has seen infinite outcomes where Viktor and Jayce have not been able to save each other and that this one. These exact events, were the only thing in all of the multiverse that ended up being the good ending, where Viktor wasn't left alone with his glorious purpose and Jayce didn't wind up dead. This and only this timeline was the way things could work out without one of them getting hurt or lost.

I also want to say that this probably created a paradox. Mage Viktor only exists because Jayce and Viktor used the Arcane to unlock the multiverse. But mage Viktor had to exist in some timeline before hextech to be able to find Jayce and fix the other timelines.

And the other timelines only exist because Viktor was trying to save them, but if he had never given Jayce the crystal or saved him then the other timelines may have never suffered, he did this because he couldn't fathom the idea of a universe where he never got to meet Jayce. It was almost as if he didn't like the thought of any of his counterparts never having met Jayce...if that isn't heartbreaking, I don't know what it

And I have a question about Mage Viktor's actions...why? It's not like Marvel where fixing his timeline will fix all timelines. Jayce was only able to save his timeline and Ekko was only able to keep the other timeline from falling apart by leaving. So why did he feel the need to try and fix all the other timelines?

Because he loved Jayce, I think. And he never wanted there to be a timeline where they never met. he needed his counterparts to know what it was like to be in Jayce's presence, he needed to know that he could be loved and that he could love in return. He needed them to understand that. But so many...too many of them didn't

[sweetbunpura]

After stepping out of Nevemela

Rook: It was wonderful to see Roi du Neige again

Epel: That dorm was too much for me

Vil: Unfortunately Potato wasn’t there

Round 7! We're almost there!

Start - Daydreamers (Ch. 2) - Junglehearts (Ch.3) - Aqualetta (Ch. 4) - Potential (Ch.5) - Nevemela (Ch.6)

Nimbus

Rollo could feel his patience started to end and he had to take a few deep breaths as he closed his eyes. A hand patted his shoulder as whoever it was attempted to reassure him.

"She's either in Nimbus or Verasavi, Roi du Mouchair."

Rollo tampered down his grumble and opened his eyes. "I hope so..."

"She's not there?" Ortho asks as he approaches the group.

"Sadly, no." Epel responded. "Neige said she was in Nimbus."

"Nimbus?" Idia muttered from his spot on the ground. "With those 'Teamwork makes the dreamwork' guys? Pass."

Vil walked over and nearly pulled Idia up. "Do you want Yam to go wild? He's nearing his limit."

Idia glanced over at Rollo, who had the nastiest glare as he hid his face behind his handkerchief. The tech savvy student jumps and manages to wiggle himself out of Vil's grip.

"Ortho, C'mon! Let's go get Yuu-rin before Rollo-shi sets everything on fire."

"Coming!" Ortho grabs Rollo's hand as he joins his brother.

They went through the portal with a cloud and a lighting blot etched into the emblem. Rollo nearly stumbled out of entrance as the footing beneath him became soft and cloud like. Ortho moved to help him while Idia sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Welcome to Nimbus, Rollo-shi..."

He looked up, eyes wide as he spotted nothing but clouds in front of him with the Nimbus dorm members floating in the air.

"Is this all-"

"Anti-gravity magic." Idia floated off with Ortho navigating Rollo along. "They're on clouds, so you need to be lighter than it or you go right through."

"Do you know who we're looking for?' He asked as he eventually got used to the floatiness.

"Yeah."

The older shroud brother's answers are short as they near the courtyard. There's a commotion as people are gathered around a basketball goal. Idia tries to move them past it as a name that causes him to flinch sounds out from the crowd.

"And Lute scores the final goal, winning the game!"

A student shouted and flew above the court on a pair of pale golden wings. His blond hair was tied back as the sun shone off his bronze skin.

"Beastman?" Rollo muttered to Idia.

"Fae." He responded. "That's just his Unique Magic on display like the showoff that he is."

While the others cheering for him below, his vibrant orange eyes shifted over to the NRC group and he flew over to meet them. Rollo mentally prepared himself for whatever wackiness this RSA student will have.

"You." His voice was smooth as he pointed to Rollo. "You're on Athena's phone, so you must be her boyfriend."

"Athena?" The group voiced as they fixed Lute with a set of confused stares.

"Oh, the nickname." He landed and his wings folded at his sides." Uh, Yuu! You're Yuu's boyfriend." He snapped his fingers. "Rollo, right?"

Rollo blinked in bewilderment. "Y-You know my name?"

"Yeah, totally! Once Grooves got her phone unlocked, we all saw you were on her home and lock screen and we got a little nosy." His eyes shifted to Ortho and Idia. "Shroud! Are you out here in public, with no tablet?"

"Hahahaha." Idia glared and huffed. "Aren't we funny, Lute-shi?"

Lute raised his hands up. "I don't mean anything by it. We've only ever seen the tablet or Little Ortho here."

"Hello, Lute Heights-san!" Ortho smiled. "Since you're here, have you seen where Yuu Homura-san is?"

Lute's face fell as did his wings. "I hate to say it, but I got pulled away sometime after Grooves helped her. So I don't know if she's still in the dorm or nah."

"She's not."

A new voice being heard had them all turning their heads to see someone hopping towards them. They halted at Lute's side and pulled the pair of vintage aviator goggles off their face. He looked exactly like Lute apart from the vibrant green eyes. He held out his hand to Rollo, who shook it.

"Grooves Heights, Dorm leader of Nimbus." He patted Lute on the shoulder. "Twin brother, vice dorm leader."

"I don't get a intro with my name included?" Lute nudges his brother.

"Nah." Grooves nudged him back.

"Forgive me for trying to...move things along, but did you say she wasn't here?" Rollo asked before the brothers could start anything.

"Sorry, Rollo, but yeah." Grooves rubs the back of his head. "You should be getting a text from her soon."

Right on cue, Rollo's phone chimed and he fished it our of his pocket.

Yuu: ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH, I CAN FINALLY TEXT YOU! Rolls, you doing okay? Nothing on fire?

Rollo had never typed so fast in his life.

Rollo: I'm fine, but I've been on a wild goose chase in an attempt to retrieve you from this school. As for the fire.... I am very close to setting everything ablaze.

Yuu: Yikes. Well, I'm over in Verasavi. I don't even to know where to begin what I've been through.

Rollo: We're on our way. Please do not move.

Yuu: I'll try not to.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he addressed the others. "She's in Verasavi."

Grooves grimaced a little. "Yeah, no, that makes sense. Phara probably wanted to give her the royal treatment."

"...Is he bad?"

"No, no, wouldn't hurt a fly...most of the time." He waves his hand. "He's just a little...." He looked towards his brother for help.

"He's extra. If you're ever seen any of those old fashion movies with the knight/hero, then that's how he acts."

"A knight in shining armor?" Idia raised an eyebrow. "Yuu-rin doesn't need protection, she's her own knight. Sorry, Rollo-shi."

"It's fine." He responds. "Although I wonder what he would be trying to protect her from..."

"NRC." The twins answered.

"So something the entire school has issues with?" Rollo crossed his arms. "Is this apart of the rivalry I've heard so much about?"

"Yeah." Lute nodded his head. "Others have issues. Not us tho."

"Yep! I love O-man too much to ever hate him!" Grooves wrapped an arm around Ortho's shoulder. "He's been kicking my ass lately at the card games."

"Get a better deck." Ortho teased.

Grooves fake gasped. "How dare!"

Idia interrupted. "We need to get going.... Malleus-shi needs to know where he's about to head off to."

"....M-dawg is here?" Grooves paled. "Oh Phara is gonna have a field day."

"Do you want us to escort you out?" Lute asked.

"Nah, we got it from here." Idia moved towards the entrance without another word."

"Good bye, Heights brothers!" Ortho waved as he followed Idia.

"I'll admit... I wasn't expecting this level of friendliness." Rollo adjusted them. "I've only heard mostly bad things."

"Our time in this world is short-"

"Not with us though."

"Lute." Grooves rolled his eyes. "Anyway. Our time in this world is short and I'm not gonna spend it trying to drag down others. We need some positivity in our lives."

"I see.... thank you both for your time." With that, Rollo joined the waiting Shroud brothers.

[thenyoukeepliving]

A Slithering Adventure

Jax x Cat!Reader

A/N: This is just a teensy little fragment of a biiiig fic I’m currently writing, purely for my own enjoyment. I figured I’d make a small side blog (as I’m too insecure to use my main for this lol) to share it with my fellow rabbit lovers.

A little backstory: This was written with my OC in mind who is a cat-like creature that has a lot more to her than what the cast members know… But you don’t need to know about any of that to enjoy this scene! I only include one sentence as a hint to this but you'll be fine.

She also had an intense/heated/both(?) teasing/argument/both(?) with Jax the other night, so that’s how the story starts in here.

CW: None? | A giant digital snake slightly scaring an idiot bunny. | Jax has a functional nose for the sake of one sentence. | Loooots of friendly teasing (maybe a bit OOC but eh) | Slightly traumatic experience for said bunny but he can take it like a good boy

Word count: 2583 | Masterlist

You woke up feeling as shitty as ever, with exactly one blissful second of peace – one magical moment where last night didn’t exist.

And then, just like that, reality came crashing back down. Every single thing that happened from the moment you ran into Jax came rushing back to you all at once.

Shit.

You stretched a little in bed, delaying the inevitable. If you didn’t head out soon to join the others for whatever stupid adventure Caine had planned today, someone was bound to come knocking.

Oh god, what if they sent Jax? The thought alone made you want to sink into the floor. You were not dealing with another awful doorstep encounter like yesterday.

So, you took your time getting ready (maybe a little longer than necessary) until you finally heard the others leaving their rooms and heading downstairs. Perfect. You weren’t exactly in the mood for small talk this morning.

Let’s just get today over with. Nice and easy. Maybe you could even nudge Caine into doing an adventure you’d already done before – one from years back with the old gang.

Before the incident…

You shoved that thought down, squared your shoulders, and opened your door. A relieved sigh escaped you when you saw the empty hallway.

Good. No Jax. No one else, either.

With that, you made your way downstairs to the main room, where everyone was already gathered and chatting.

You spotted Jax lounging on the couch, pestering Gangle about something – her mask, you suppose?

Stupid rabbit.

You made your way toward the group, hoping Caine will magically appear and save you from having to dive into an unwanted round of socializing.

You caught Jax’s eye as he glanced your way, and you could’ve sworn you saw a flicker of something in his gaze. Or maybe it was just your imagination.

It looked like he was about to say something, but just as you braced yourself, Caine popped in out of nowhere.

You saw Jax’s expression shift, his brow furrowed slightly as he let out a quiet sigh. He turned his attention to Caine, the spark in his eyes fading into a more neutral expression.

“About time, Caine. I was starting to get bored over here,” Jax said with his usual (disgusting) smirk, though his posture seemed a little more tense than usual.

Caine started speaking about today's adventure, but your mind was only half-present. You leaned against the wall, too tired to stand properly, trying to listen to the ringmaster’s nonsense.

"That’s right, my digital darlings!" Caine’s voice boomed with excitement as he twirled his cane. "Today, we’re heading into the Mysterious Mistwood to recover a very important lost key! Ooooh, what does it unlock? Aha! That is for me to know and for you to never find out!"

He wiggled his eyebrows dramatically before clapping his gloved hands together.

"As you all know, a task this perilous cannot be done alone! So, I’ve taken the liberty of pairing you all up! You and your partner will search the foggy, winding paths of the Mistwood until one of you finds the key! But be warned!" his voice dropped into an ominous whisper, eyes gleaming. "The forest is tricky. It shifts, it changes, and if you’re not careful, you might find yourself walking in circles forever!"

The ground beneath you rumbled slightly as a massive wooden door appeared and creaked open, revealing an eerie, fog-covered forest just beyond. Your stomach twisted, not because of the adventure, but because you had a very bad feeling about who you’d be stuck with.

"And now! For the moment you've all been waiting for – the partners!" Caine grinned as a giant, spinning wheel appeared in the air. He gave it a theatrical spin, the names flashing too fast to read. Finally, the wheel slowed… and stopped.

Your name appeared.

Right next to Jax’s.

Of course.

Of course it had to be him.

Jax let out a loud, exaggerated groan. "Ohhh, come on! Rigged. Totally rigged!" he glanced over at you, a smirk creeping onto his face. "Guess you’re stuck with me, partner."

Caine, oblivious to the tension, continued cheerfully. "Welp, too bad! No takesies backsies! Now, off you go, and remember – find the key before the mist finds you!"

Around you, the others were already grouping up. Gangle had been paired with Ragatha, who gave her an encouraging pat on the back, while Kinger ended up with Pomni. Zooble, unsurprisingly, refused to participate, lounging off to the side with their usual disinterest.

At the center of the room, three massive wooden doors emerged from nowhere, each one looking equally ominous. One for each pair.

Jax got up from the couch and walked closer to you.

"Rough night? You look like you could use some more sleep," he said, his eyes flicking up and down as he took in your less-than-enthused expression, his smirk widening at the sight.

You exhaled through your nose, unimpressed. "Gee, thanks for the concern," you muttered, not even bothering to look at him.

Your shoulder pressed harder into the wall as if that alone could create some distance between you. "Maybe I just wasn't thrilled about waking up to this," you gestured vaguely between the two of you, finally meeting his gaze with a deadpan stare.

Jax raised an eyebrow at your response, his smirk growing into a smug smile. "Oh, sorry, am I not meeting your high standards?"

He took a step towards you, closing the small gap you tried to create. His gaze locked onto yours, searching for any kind of reaction.

"Oh, come on, don't be like that," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You're lucky to be paired up with me. I'll keep you safe out in that spooky old forest. After all, I'm the most skilled adventurer around here." 

You scoffed, already walking toward the doors. Jax followed beside you, hands tucked behind his head like he had all the time in the world.

"You don't want to end up lost in there, do you?” he continued, his stupid smile only growing, filled with (made up) confidence. “Then just consider me your knight in shining armor."

You rolled your eyes, keeping your pace steady, not in the mood to entertain him. Jax, still not satisfied with your reaction, pushed further.

"Oh, come on. Is being stuck with me really that painful, kitty?" he practically purred the last word as you entered one of the doors.

You froze mid-step, feeling the sudden and overwhelming urge to hit someone. More specifically, the annoying purple rabbit walking beside you.

On the other side, a dense forest surrounded you, mist curling between the towering trees. The doors – and the others – were nowhere in sight.

…Not that either of you noticed. Jax was too busy entertaining himself with cat puns, and you were focusing on not seeing his face as a living punching bag.

Jax, probably catching on to the very obvious shift in your expression, tilted his head slightly, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Aww, is someone getting angry? Gonna hiss at me now?"

You barely spared him a glance, replying completely unbothered. “If this is your way of getting back at me for calling you ‘bunny boy,’ I’m letting you know it’s not working.”

Jax chuckled. "Oh, dear me, you are so cool and collected," he drawled, faking a swoon. "But I’ll let you in on a little secret: It's not just about getting back at you."

His words hang in the air, but before either of you could say more, the bushes started rustling violently. A giant, serpent-like creature slithered through the trees, its scales shimmering in the dim light.

Jax’s ears perked up at the sound of the bushes rustling, as your attention snapped towards the strange, serpent-like creature that slithered into view.

Without a moment of hesitation, Jax turned his back on you, putting himself between you and the serpent.

"Stay back," he warned, his eyes fixed on the creature. However, as he glanced over his shoulder at you, he noticed the smirk still plastered on your face. "Really? We're facing a giant snake and you're still finding this amusing?

You let out a small laugh, clearly unfazed by the serpent’s intimidating presence. "Oh, I’m terrified," you drawled, your eyes scanning the creature with curiosity.

The snake hissed, its tongue flicking in and out, causing Jax to stiffen, his ears flattening against his head. You could see him trying to keep his composure, but the fear was clear in his wide eyes.

"Come on, Jax," you said, taking a step forward to stand next to him. "I thought you were the most skilled adventurer here. Surely you can handle a little snake, right?"

Jax’s ears flattened further at your words, his pride clearly wounded by your teasing. A mix of annoyance and slight panic appeared on his face. 

The giant creature suddenly lunged forward, its muscular body coiling as it prepared to strike. Jax swiftly side-stepped, causing the snake to crash into the ground with a thud. He let out a frustrated groan and shot you a sharp look.

"This would be a lot easier if you weren't distracting me, you know."

Paying no attention to him, you rolled your eyes and headed straight to the serpent’s direction. But before you could take even three steps, Jax suddenly grabbed your arm, pulling you behind him again.

"Are you crazy? You can't just waltz up to a giant snake!"

You huffed, yanking your arm free from his grip. “Oh, please. It’s not like I was gonna ask it for a dance.”

Your gaze flicked back to the serpent, its body rippling as it readjusted from its failed strike. The way its glowing eyes locked onto you sent a thrill down your spine – but not fear. Just curiosity.

“You keep panicking, and it’s gonna eat you first,” you cooed, tilting your head. “Which, honestly, might be kind of funny.”

Jax shot you a glare, his ears scrunching up in frustration. “Oh, hilarious. I'm so glad my imminent death amuses you, Y/N. I’ll make sure to laugh while I’m getting swallowed.”

Despite his words, he didn’t move from in front of you, his body tense, ready to snap at any moment.

The snake hissed, tongue flickering as it was ready to strike again, and its attention now focused solely on Jax.

You smirked, completely unfazed. “Well, if you’re gonna get eaten, might as well go out with a smile, right?”

Your tail flicked lazily as you took a step to the side, casually sizing up the serpent. It was massive, sure, but it wasn’t unstoppable.

“Besides,” you added, tilting your head. “Looks like it likes you more. Maybe it has a thing for nervous rabbits.”

Jax scoffed at your comment, his eyes twitching in annoyance. The fact that you were just peacefully standing behind him, making jokes about him getting eaten, was only adding to his frustration.

“Well gee, thanks for the moral support. I’ll make sure to wear a sign that says 'tasty rabbit meat' next time.”

The snake’s attention remained fixed on Jax, its body tensing as if preparing to attack again. The air of the forest suddenly felt electrically charged.

“Oh great, you’ve definitely made this worse,” Jax groaned.

You snorted, barely holding back a laugh. “Moral support is important, y’know. Someone’s gotta keep things light while you’re busy freaking out.”

Jax shot you a look that screamed ‘not helping’, but before he could retort, the serpent lunged again – this time, faster.

“Alright, time to go!” you grabbed Jax by the wrist and yanked him backwards just as the snake’s jaws snapped shut where he had been standing. Without wasting another second, you ran as fast as you could, dragging him along as you weaved through the trees.

Branches whipped past, the distant sound of the serpent crashing through the undergrowth rumbling behind you. The deeper you ran, the thicker the forest became, its glowing flora casting an eerie light around you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the sounds of the creature faded. You slowed down, releasing Jax’s wrist as you both caught your breath.

“See?” you panted, shooting him a smirk. “We made it out in one piece. You’re welcome.”

Jax staggered away from you as soon as you released his wrist, doubling over to catch his breath. His eyes were filled with a mix of relief and lingering fear. He took a moment to steady his breathing, his gaze narrowing as he looked at you. Even in the dim light, he could see the hint of a pleased grin on your face.

He was not enjoying this.

“Oh, thank you oh so much for saving me,” he said sarcastically, his voice still slightly shaky. "What would I do without you."

You stretched your arms behind your head, unfazed by his sarcasm. “I dunno, probably end up as snake food. But hey, glad to be of service.”

Jax scoffed, rolling his eyes before plopping down on a nearby tree root. He still looked rattled and he was doing a terrible job of hiding it.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The forest was eerily quiet, the glow from strange plants casting long shadows between the trees. You watched Jax from the corner of your eye – his ears twitching, his body trembling, his fingers tapping restlessly against his knee.

You exhaled, tilting your head. “Didn’t expect you to be that scared,” your tone was casual, no teasing edge to it this time.

Jax tensed slightly, his nose scrunching. “I wasn’t scared.”

You gave him a look.

He let out a frustrated sigh, his gaze drifting toward the trees. “I mean, c’mon, that thing was huge. Anyone would’ve–” he cut himself off, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter. We’re fine. I don’t need a therapy session.”

You just shrugged. “Didn’t say you did.”

Silence settled again, but this time, it wasn’t as tense. After a few minutes of introspecting, reforming and reflecting, Jax took a deep breath, his shoulders dropping just slightly.

“…I just don’t like ‘em, alright?” he muttered, barely audible.

You didn’t press. You just sat beside him, resting your arms over your knees. “Fair enough.”

Jax glanced at you, like he was expecting some kind of snide remark. When none came, his expression shifted – just a little.

“Y’know, you’re really annoying,” he grumbled, though with a softness in his tone.

You smirked. “Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome.”

Suddenly a large wooden door shimmered into existence ahead of you, its frame glowing with dim light. The door opened with a creaking sound and you spotted the rest of the group on the other side. Someone – probably Ragatha – was holding up a key, shaking it triumphantly.

“Well, would ya look at that,” Jax slipped his hands behind his head. “Guess we did our part.”

Caine popped up behind Ragatha, beaming. “Great work, you two! Even though you didn’t actually find the key, your little adventure was very entertaining! A+ for effort!”

Jax rolled his eyes but didn't say anything. Instead, as you two stood up and walked towards the door, he threw you a sideways glance, smirking.

“Don’t forget,” he said, back with his usual teasing voice as nothing had happened. “I’m still planning on that thing I promised ya yesterday. With your requested reward of course.”

Then, just like that, he wandered off, leaving you to wonder what exactly he had in mind.

[pars-ley]

Title: I still want you (part one)

Pairing: Jimin x female reader

Summary: Legend has it that there's a being of nightmares residing in a dark castle deep within the woods. But...what if the man who roams those halls is not the monster he's made out to be?

Genre: fantasy au / cursed jimin / strangers to lovers / fated lovers / angst / fluff

Rating: 18+ (sfw) (part two will have smut)

Warnings: mentions and descriptions of demons / description of murdered character (not main character) / talk of curses and spells / really insecure Jimin / 

Word count: 7.3k

Banner: @caelesjjk is the G.O.A.T for this perfect banner 

Moodboard: Me

Beta: @anyamaris @colormepurplex2 @heathfritillary thank you so much for all of your help, suggestions and endless cheers for this!!!

Authors notes: for @ksmutsociety ’s ‘the velvet vault’ event with the prompt dark academia. Inspired by “the truth untold” song, mixed with Beauty and the Beast meets Tim Burton. The poem at the end was written by the wonderful @colormepurplex2 thank you so much.

My playlist:

The truth untold - BTS

Who - Jimin

Not by the moon - Got 7

Dopamine - Jackson Wang

Like crazy - Jimin

Scene one

Hearing tales about this infamous garden is one thing, but seeing it before you, that is something else entirely. 

Your eyes must be deceiving you, for such beauty couldn't exist in just one place; especially within this dark, cruel town. 

People here have long given up on happiness, love, even decency. With more magical creatures being discovered and invading the town, some wreaking havoc and others spreading fear like wildfire, a lot of people feel trapped here. 

You, being one of them. 

Living a life constantly looking over your shoulder is not ideal but it is something you have come to accept. Especially after the death of your mother, which has shaped you into a much more vigilant adult.

One evening, she didn't make it home before the darkness blanketed the sky, your mind raced throughout the night, until first light peeked through the trees and illuminated your answers.

Her lifeless body strung up in the centre of town, by those demonic, soulless beings, hung for everyone to view and gawk at. The image still haunts you almost four summers on and so does the comprehension behind her death.

Your mother had been a powerful enchantress, having regular visions that, more often than not, came true. She could charm objects with magic to bring a variety of privileges; protection, love, knowledge, luck, anything to help ease the wickedness of the world. She made potions from the plants that grew on our windowsill, all medicinal and all made with heartfelt care. 

All of this made her more capable of protecting herself than anyone in this town and yet, she still ended up dead. 

Her dagger, laced with a protection spell, had still been tied tightly to her thigh, not even an attempt to be taken out of the harness. Had she even had the chance to try? 

You had removed it from her lifeless body and kept it close to you ever since. 

You did not know what she had been doing in the woods, or what kept her out so late on that fateful day, but you knew that whatever it was, surely involved magic. If she pushed herself too hard with spells, she lost too much energy and wasn't able to use more if needed. 

The questions around her death have plagued you ever since. 

Here in the garden, however, you feel an odd sense of peace, something you haven't felt in a long time. However reckless it may be for you to enter, you slowly open the unlocked gate. The loud creaking of the hinges makes you pause, frozen in panic while you scan your surroundings. Your hand moves to your mother's dagger that now resides hidden under your skirt, tied to your outer thigh with a makeshift holster.

When nothing moves or makes a sound in return, you slide yourself in through the small gap and step onto the stone pathway.

The smell hits you like an ocean breeze; intoxicating fragrances swirl around you, trapping you in a cage of flowers. One that you would gladly lock yourself into.

Your feet seem to move of their own accord as you stroll through the abundance of colourful flowers, softly skating your fingers along velvet petals with a ghostly touch.

As you walk, a little basket full of berries in hand, you realise how much lighter you felt, as if you were lifted on a floating cloud, carrying you along in the wind. Your aching heart felt calmed; soothed just by being in here. 

The variation of flowers is unlike anything you'd seen, every colour you could think of in so many shapes and sizes it is hard to fathom them all. But it’s the white rose bush in the centre of the garden that catches your eye and draws you in further. As you had given in and succumbed to the temptation, trespassing onto the grounds of the large, ornate castle your town spoke about frequently. The fear and the guilt, however, had left you as soon as you entered. 

In closing the distance between you and the rose bush, you also edge much closer to the tall, round tower that stands alongside it. Surrounded by a wildflower floral blanket and yet, the dark, unwelcome castle looks out of place in all this beauty, and a shiver cascades through you. 

Unsure if your mind is playing tricks, you glance up at the windows, searching for any sign of the eyes you can suddenly feel upon you. Every part of the castle seems thick with shadows, empty and un-lived in. But you have heard many rumours of the man within. A twisted man who stays hidden away inside, so grotesque and sinister he hides from the world. Many stories shrouded in mystery, kept the village alight with curiosity, but all of them had the same message. 

Stay away from the castle.

Maybe you are a fool for coming here, although searching for the reality from the tales was not your initial intention, but admittedly, you are surprised by your surroundings. It’s as if two different worlds coexist within the outer walls.

A garden so beautiful it wouldn't be unbelievable to see cherubs and angels holding hands and dancing around the shrubs, but with the backdrop of a dark, secret dwelling housing an angry beast.

Seeing no movement or signs of life in the many windows, you continue on your venture.

Your footsteps make no sound as you tiptoe carefully across the grass to the roses.

Such a simple flower but your unmatched favourite.

White roses remind you of your mother, a delicate, breathtaking woman who stood out everywhere she went, but with a natural, understated beauty. 

Leaning down to deeply inhale the familiar scent, the promise of satin petals on your fingertips grew too much as you reached out to touch one. Your fingers glide like silk along the curled edges, tiny dew drops still inside from the morning's breath.

What you wouldn't give to just have one of these roses in your pitiful garden, but it would be too out of place and unbelonging. Much like yourself in this garden.

Placing your basket on the ground beside you and kneeling down to the bush, you want nothing more than to crawl inside its stemmed cage and stay there. 

The sounds of birds chirping echo around you, as the orange afternoon sun breaks through the clouds, glowing and warming your skin slightly. Angling your face up to it and enjoying the feeling on your skin, you sit humming peacefully to yourself.

The sudden sound of a gasp from above silences you. Your eyes fly open and your head snaps up sharply to an open window on the first floor of the tower.

You manage to catch a glimpse of someone before they retreat out of sight and back into the shadow. You bolt upright to stand, frozen in place. Your eyes remain fixed in the same spot, looking for any sign of movement. The ability to call out is swallowed by fear in your throat, and so you stay silent and unmoving for what feels like an eternity before half a face peers out at you from behind the window frame. 

There were many tales of the grotesque character that resides within these walls, but no mention of a man so breathtaking he could be a fairytale prince. 

Perfect skin that glows in the peachy sunlight and smooth, plump lips that could make the beautiful roses in front of you envious beyond measure. The one visible dark eye, a hidden jewel in a cave of wonders, widens briefly as he meets your gaze before quickly retreating back into concealment.

"Hello?" you call out softly, finding your voice but not wanting to startle him further. "I'm sorry for intruding, but your garden is so beautiful I had to see it for myself.”

Silence.

Worrying you've made a grave mistake, you're about to turn away and leave for fear that your presence is not welcome, when a shy and yet alluring voice sounds; echoing around you.

"Please, stay and enjoy it."

Turning back up to the window, your eyes find his half-form, noticing his ivory knuckles as he clings to the window frame as if forcing himself in place.

“Thank you.” You nod and sit on the grass once again, your skirt billowing out around you. Your eyes remain stuck on his statuesque stance.

“I had no idea anyone actually lived here,” you say into the thick silence, your voice echoing across the empty grounds.

The one eye of his that you can see darts around at the woodland area beyond the walls before returning to you. Not even a whisper of a response, and so, you continue to try to find out more.

"Are you alone?" you ask, eyes roving around the castle windows once again, waiting for the beast you've heard so much about to appear.

He nods. “I've been here for many years.” He finally speaks up, but with wavering hesitance you can hear as his voice trembles.

Your brow furrows as you try to piece together this puzzle in your mind. 

What could this man have done to warrant such hostile tales being told about him, or is it simply because he hides himself away that the townsfolk fear him?

He doesn't look much older than you, if he had ventured into your town you would remember him. You can't help your curiosity. “Why have I never seen you?” you question innocently.

You're not certain, but it seems as if he grimaces, shrugging into the shadows for a brief moment. “I don't really venture out much.”

How lonely he must be. Alone, in such a vast castle, hiding himself away, what a sad existence.

You are in no position to talk about anyone else's existence, as you're not exactly jumping for joy about yours, either.

Shrugging those thoughts away, you realise how impolite you're being, especially after breaking into someone else's garden and you introduce yourself.

His cheek reddens as he stammers out, “I-I’m Jimin, P-park Jimin.” 

Unable to help the smile that stretches across your mouth from this endearing, timid man, you reply, “It's nice to meet you, Jimin.”

A furious blush spreads to his hairline and down his neck, a sight that not only intrigues you but warms your chest, too. Your gaze stays locked on the sight until you see his eye drift out, looking over at the expanse beyond the castle.

“The sun sets, you should not be out in the woods during darkness.”

His warning is apt and true, you know that better than anyone. Since the world of magic had taken over, nighttime is when the most demonic creatures come out to do their bidding.

Glancing back towards the gate, you know you should leave, your head screams at you to go, but something else pulls you to stay.

Almost as if he senses your hesitancy, he asks, "Will you come back again?”

A strange tightness pulls across your chest, a feeling you've never experienced before. "Would you like me to?"

"Yes," he responds, nodding eagerly, and with that one-word answer, your mind is made up.

“I can return tomorrow?” you suggest bravely, hoping you're not overstepping his boundaries, but pleasantly discover the opposite, with a half smile so breathtaking you're almost blinded.

“Tomorrow it is, then,” he says simply, unable to hide the excitement in his voice. 

A distant cackle snatches your attention away, a stark contrast to the sound of his melodic voice. You collect your basket and whisk yourself away, out of the garden and into the dusky woods, leaving just as quietly as you entered and running home as fast as you could before nightfall envelopes you. 

Before all the monsters come out to play with the mere mortals, unable to resist their sadistic and seductive ways.

That night, you lie in bed, listening to the havoc created outside around you but unable to stop thinking of Jimin.

Seeming so meek and sweet you wonder what he's doing there all alone. Why do the village tales only ever speak of a monster who hides within the castle and not angels who could be guarding it?

He seems so desperate for company and yet, so afraid at the same time. Questions race in your mind, unable to silence them as you wonder about his story.

Who is he? Why is he in that castle all alone and hiding from the world?

You’re consumed with him until sleep takes over, and instead of the usual terror that frequently haunts your dreams, you are visited by the beautiful man in the dark tower.

Scene two

The following day, before the noon sun reaches its highest peak in the sky, you begin the journey to the castle in the woods. 

Your feet seem to move of their own accord, faster than usual, with nothing but the image of the mysterious man from the tower in your mind.

The gate creaks open as you push through it, and your eyes go straight to the tower window. 

You're met with only darkness. 

Stepping quietly into the garden, you make your way to the rose bush, bringing you directly in sight of the window. That's when you notice them. 

A bunch of five white roses, tied together with a pale pink ribbon, lay on the grass in front of the bush, the stems perfectly trimmed and now beautifully symmetrical. Gently, you skate your fingers lightly over the petals. 

“Do you like them?” a soft voice sounds from above.

Your mouth pulls into a smile upon hearing his gentle tone echo around you, comforting you in an unfamiliar embrace. Although, he'd conquered your waking and sleeping thoughts since your meeting yesterday, you had not done his angelic voice justice in your mind.

You turn to greet him. “I do. Are they for me?”

Half peering out at you like before, he nods, his left cheek glowing pinkly in the sunshine.

“Thank you. I will cherish having a part of your beautiful garden in my home.”

He beams at your words and hides even more of his face further behind the wall. “They will protect you from evil.” 

Glancing down at the flowers in your hand, you notice nothing out of the ordinary and wonder what he could possibly mean. “How so?”

“M-magic,” he whispers, although even that seems to echo into the silence around you.

A bird flies out of a tree nearby, squeaking loudly, and you both look over to it. The atmosphere seems to change by the mere mention of the word. Magic. Most folks tend to stay well away from anything involving that. It wasn't easily accessible or cheap to purchase, which leads you to wonder how this could be possible. 

“Are you a sorcerer?” you ask, pondering the idea.

He laughs, “Unfortunately not. I was given some seeds bewitched with a spell from an enchantress. No evil can enter this garden or my home while these flowers grow here.”

Mulling that over, you stroke the petals of the flowers in your hand, feeling an odd sense of nostalgia. His words are like a blast into your past, making you miss your mother’s magic, something that, unfortunately, does not come as naturally to you. 

So, as long as you have these, you will be safe from the evil that roams in the dark blanket of night. Relief fills you, alongside a hope you thought was lost long ago. 

“Thank you, this is a very kind gift.” Smiling up at him, you set the flowers back down on the ground. “Speaking of gifts, I also have one for you.” Squatting down to your basket, you lift the handkerchief off to reveal the fresh loaf of bread, the mouth-watering smell hits you, but you ignore it. “I baked this loaf for you this morning; it's still warm.”

He stares down at you, still half hiding but trying to get a better view into the basket. “F-for me?”

You nod. “Would you like me to bring it to the door?”

The silence stretches on, as his eyes bounce around the garden, looking everywhere but at you. Instantly, you panic that you've made him uncomfortable, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth and quickly, you interject, “I could just leave it in the doorway, and you can collect it when you like.”

Waiting for what feels like an eternity for a response, your feet welded awkwardly to the ground, until you hear him let out a heavy sigh. “N-no, wait by the door, I'll just be a moment,” he replies quietly, as he whisks himself away back into the shadows of the tower.

Heading in the direction of the large main doors into the castle, walking slowly along the pathway through the garden, your heart beats hard within your chest, the sound echoing in your ears, and possibly loud enough to be heard on these grounds.

Slowly, you ascend the steps and wait in the large arched doorway. The wooden doors are old and carved with grotesque faces. Leaning closer, they look to have been carved crudely and without care, seemingly having been placed out of anger or fear instead.

The sound of the wood creaking makes you jump, as the door opens just enough for you to place your basket through it. An elegant hand comes out to greet you and as you place the basket handle in it, your fingertips graze his. A vision hits.

A scene playing out before your eyes.

Images flash quickly in your mind. All of you and him. A hooded Jimin. 

At first, they start off with smiles and light touches before evolving into passionate nights and warm embraces. A heat cascades through your body that you've never experienced, your face feeling aflame under his hesitant, one-eyed gaze.

“Is everything ok?” he asks, concern etched in his furrowed brow. 

Swallowing hard, you nod. “I'm fine.”

You do not wish to tell this stranger about your own powers of clairvoyance. If the wrong person knew, you would be punished and left outside at night for the demons. Besides, you need to determine the meaning behind this vision first, unlike any other you've had before, they are very rarely about you.

“Thank you,” he whispers, snapping you out of your thoughts as he begins to withdraw.

“Wait,” you say urgently, “won't you come and walk with me? It's a beautiful day, and I would love a tour of the garden.”

Your eyes search the dark gap in the opening, but are unable to find anything.

“I can't.” His voice is barely audible.

“I would like it very much, if you would join me,” you ask again gently, but not wanting to push or make him uncomfortable.

“No, you wouldn't, not when you see me.” The sadness in his voice makes your chest tight.

“Jimin, I don't care what you look like,” you stress, “I do, however, want to enjoy your garden, it would be a shame if I can't have the person who created such a paradise show it to me.”

You're met with only silence until you hear a long, sad sigh from inside. “I'm sorry, I can't. Please enjoy it, I need to return to my tower.”

Before you have a chance to respond, the door is closed, and you're left longing to get to know the man who could be your future.

Scene three

Several sunsets pass, each day involving a visit to Jimin’s garden where you spend your time sitting in the floral atmosphere, letting the calmness wash over you and enjoying the sun on your face. 

He stays up in his tower, watching, while the two of you speak endlessly. Exchanging tales of your childhoods, memories you’d long forgotten coming to the forefront of your mind and escaping past your lips. 

You explain your love of drawing, anything you see beauty in, which nowadays isn’t much, so you drew your memories and your mother. 

He expresses his love of poetry, often reading by the fire every night before bed, sometimes writing his own. Whenever there’s silence it is never uncomfortable, just more time to sit and enjoy each other's company.

You discover he’s an author, having written many stories of his own. He gifted you three of his books to read after you had begged to know his writing; embarrassing him and turning his cheeks pink until he agreed.

His way with words is like nothing you have known before. Every sentence enters through you and embeds itself in your soul. Every word is a caress to your heart, feeling his poetic prose touch places inside you never knew existed. 

It inspires you. 

Before you can process the thought, you reach for your last bit of charcoal and let all your emotions illustrate the page, continuing on until the morning.

As soon as the sun appears over the hill beyond the view from your window, you get ready and leave, bringing your picture rolled up and tied with the same pale pink ribbon that bound your magic, undying roses.

You can’t wait to gift him a piece of your art, and if you were honest, a piece of your heart. No feeling could describe the way your entire body felt fit to burst, with the way this man made you feel. Your heart previously only beating out of necessity rather than desire. Skipping through the gate to your usual spot, you call out, “Jimin!” 

Your heart pounds wildly inside you in a rhythm that is a personalised symphony just for him. You wait only a moment before he appears, smiling out at you.

“Someone is up bright and early today,” he remarks joyfully.

Seeing him, you’re always taken aback by how your memories have not done him justice at all, especially in the bright first light of morning, his flawless skin illuminated gold from the rising sun.

“I have not yet been to bed.” You laugh.

Worry creases his brow. “Whyever not? Is everything alright?”

Holding your hands up to calm his concerns, you add, “Everything’s fine, better than fine, actually.” Your feet begin to pace in circles around the white rose bush. “When I finished your books I-”

“You finished all of them? Already?” he interrupts, bewildered.

Nodding, you continue on, “How could I not? Jimin, they’re beautiful.” 

His entire face reddens before he shields it with his hood, the sight makes you flustered in a way that surprises you. Making your own skin feel hot, even on this chilly morning.

Clearing your throat and swallowing to try and ease the tightness you feel, you pull your scroll out of your basket and hold it up to him. “Now, it is my turn to give something that lasts longer than a loaf of bread.”

He peeks out from his hood, eyes widening with curiosity.

“Can I?” you ask, pointing to the main wooden doors.

He hesitates briefly. “Give me a moment.”

Rushing to the entrance, almost tripping up the steps in your impatience, you wait, fiddling with your skirt nervously. When the heavy door creaks open, your heart deafens your ears, the erratic beating the only sound you can hear momentarily. You place the scroll through the gap in the doorway and watch as his slender hand comes out to take it gently from yours, his half-face appearing from the shadows.

He pulls the bowed ribbon and you watch as it falls silently to the ground. When he unrolls your parchment your eyes remain fixed to him, observing his reaction. Watching as his apprehension turns to astonishment has your heart singing with relief. His fingers reach out, kissing the paper briefly. He stutters, then stops, words disappearing into the thin air, the breeze carrying them away. 

His cheeks turn scarlet again and you watch as his eyes take in the close proximity of the two of you sketched out on the paper. Inspired by the many emotions that have been building a slow crescendo inside you for the past few weeks of being in his company. You let a story of your own play out on the page, one full of hope.

The two of you; surrounded by fragrant blooms with his tower far in the distance. Your hands entwined, with your eyes on him as he looks out of the page, hood up covering half his face in shadow.

“I-it’s beautiful,” he whispers, eyes not wavering from the picture clasped tightly in his grip. “You are very talented.”

It seems to be your turn to blush now, as you glance away shyly, mumbling a thank you. 

“I will frame this and hang it in my bedroom, so I can look at it every day.”

This makes your heart soar. 

“Jimin?” you speak up hesitantly, not wanting to spoil his mood or ruin the moment but unable to restrain from asking again. 

He meets your eyes then, “Yes?”

“Will you please accompany me in the garden today?”

His brow furrows, expression pained as he looks back down at the picture and returns his gaze to your face. Just when hope starts to fade, he sighs and nods. “Just a moment.”

Your heart jumps gleefully, rattling your chest like a caged animal desperate to escape and be reunited with its owner.

The door closes for a few minutes and, just when you think he's changed his mind, disappointment seeping in, it opens again.

Hesitantly, he steps out. His hood is pulled up over his head, as he’s focused solely on the ground, casting his whole face in darkness. You are desperate to see him, his pillowy lips and crescent moon eyes.

Slowly, you reach out and entwine your hand with his, slotting perfectly together. He stills briefly before squeezing yours in return. That confirmation is all you need. Closing the small amount of space between you and cupping half of his face, you whisper, “Look at me.”

Reluctantly, he does so. You’re surprised to see his visible eye watery with tears, almost brimming over the edge, and your heart breaks. Unable to stop yourself, you wrap him in your arms and hold him tightly, cradling him close to your body. His scent swirls around you, taking over your senses and replacing the floral scent of the garden; fresh, clean and woody. Alluring in the most intense way. 

His arms wind around your waist hesitantly, and when you feel him relax in your embrace, you, too, feel the swell of emotion inside. While he had not yet spoken of what had happened to him in the past, you were hoping that one day he would trust you enough to tell you his story. Who knows, today might be the day of many firsts for you both.

Scene four

Walking hand in hand, followed with sounds of the chirping birds surrounding you through Jimin’s garden, is something you didn’t realise how much you craved, until you were doing it. 

Having his hand in yours feels like a dream, after so long of waiting for this bridge between you to be crossed; unable to keep the smile off your face as you tread carefully through the grounds.

It wasn’t until this day you realised you had seen only a part of this estate. Jimin leads you through a walkway enclosed with tall rose bushes, surrounding you in a floral cage. 

“Did you make this yourself?” you ask, admiring the wicker trellis.

He nods shyly, glancing slightly across at you. 

You are in your element here. The days spent with him are your brightest and most enjoyed, but when the walkway ends the sight that greets you has your mouth hanging open in shock. 

“Jimin,” you gasp, “this is beautiful.”

Your eyes scour your surroundings. A beautiful pond covered with lily pads and pink water lilies, is encircled by large rocks and such a variety of vibrant flowers a rainbow would be envious of the colours.

“Shall we dip our feet?” you ask, childlike excitement evident on the wide-eyed look you give him. He smiles, unable to stop, but you can sense his slight hesitation. Pulling his arm, you lead him to the edge of the water where you slip off your shoes. Sitting on the stone ledge, you gently pull him down to you. Obeying your request, he timidly joins. The water is cold as you dip your toes and as you look down into it, you’re surprised by how clean it looks; able to see right down to the bottom and the fish residing there.

“You must be in this garden all the time?” you ask, stroking his hand with your thumb.

“I used to, before…” He stops himself, and you can feel him tense beside you, turning his head away slightly.

“Hey, it’s ok. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

A frustrated breath leaves him, his head hanging in defeat. “I do want to. I want to tell you everything,” he admits, “but I must confess, I’m not used to being around other people.”

That much you had gathered, but hearing it breaks your heart just the same.

“And,” he continues, “I have never been as close to anyone as I am with you.” He glances at you then, attempting to gauge your reaction.

Smiling, your cheeks warm from such an admission, you toy with the words you should use to respond. “I’m glad to hear that, Jimin. I can assure you, the way you feel is very much reciprocated.”

He scoffs, and the sound confuses you as you attempt to find his eyes within the darkness of the hood, but to no avail. His head hangs low. “I think you underestimate my words.”

Frowning, you grasp at what he could mean by this, and panic sets in, thinking you may have the wrong idea about the direction your relationship is heading.

“I don’t expect you to mirror my feelings and believe me, you are under no obligation to keep coming here, I do not want your pity.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Jimin, I do not pity you. I’m here because I want to be.”

He finally meets your eyes, desperately searching yours. “Really?”

Taking his hand and placing it on your chest and over your pounding heart, you say, “I have never known anyone like you. Someone so…” You search for the right wording, wishing you were capable of his prose, “fascinating. You are truly an enigma to me that I'm more than happy to keep trying to figure out.”

He looks out at the water, the sunlight highlighting the pink glow of his cheeks. 

“I come here because I want to spend time with you. I wake up and look forward to seeing you everyday and I will continue to come here until you are bored of my company and turn me away,” you add teasingly, but a real fear lies underneath somewhere. You silence it by looking at your hand still wrapped with his.

He laughs, “You will never have to worry about that, I could never tire of your company, you mean far too much to me.”

Your chest tightens with an emotion you cannot hide as you lean your head on his shoulder. He moves taut under your action, but quicker than you could imagine, he softens under your touch and leans his head atop of yours. You sit there for what feels like hours, talking and basking in the warmth of the late afternoon sun until the skin of your feet turns pruned and your stomach grumbles, breaking another comfortable silence. It is only when a demonic screech echoes from the woods outside of the walls, do you realise the time. 

Jumping up, water splashing as you do, you look at the setting sun and gasp. “Oh, no.”

The darkness has begun and you will not have enough time to make it home. Images of your mother’s lifeless form haunt your mind briefly before you force them away.

Jimin is up and at your side in a flash, arm cradling your shoulders. “It's ok. You're safe here,” he says gently, rubbing one of your arms with his thumb. The action soothes you and brings you comfort. “Come, you can stay with me tonight, I have many rooms.”

You relax slightly in his embrace and find yourself sinking into the crook under his arm, relishing in the close contact you've been craving. He pulls you closer, a firm grip around you and pins you to his side. 

Your arm ventures under his cloak and winds around his waist, holding yourself against him.

Glancing up, he's already smiling down at you and you can't stop the blush that heats your entire face.

You both head back towards the castle, you nestled against him as the darkness slowly envelopes you. When you head up the stone steps to the castle, nerves turn in your stomach, the realisation of spending the night in his home dawning on you. 

Watching the doors close, shutting out the night and the chaotic noise from outside, you sigh to yourself, feeling surprisingly at home with his warmth and presence by your side.

Scene five

The tour of the castle is long but riveting. So many rooms to explore, and he shows you every single one. Pointing out various art pieces handed down from his parents, endless novels in the library, and even an old dungeon below, unused and dusty.

He discloses that his father had died when he was little, too young to remember him, but that he has a portrait of him in his mother's bedroom he often looks at. His mother had passed away when he was fifteen, after becoming ill during a harsh winter and grew too weak to recover. He has been alone ever since. Your heart aches for him. To have been alone since then must have been truly isolating, but you could relate to him in more ways than you care to admit.

You share your story of your beautiful mother, enchanting to everyone who knew her, who had been killed by the demons just after your 18th birthday. A father who you have never known and, as far as you had been told, had never been in the picture. All you knew about him was that he was a sailor and from what your mother expressed, was more in love with the sea than her. 

You learnt not to ask questions about him as it only made her sad and distant.

Your shared experience with loss and loneliness cements your bond further as he shows you the room you could sleep in, adjacent to his.

“You will be safe here. I will be right across the hall if you need me at all.” His thumb strokes the back of your hand as your fingers stay entwined the entire route through the castle.

“Jimin?” you interject.

He looks over at you, hood still pulled over, casting half his face in shadow.

“Will you take this off?” you ask, fingering the soft velvet of his cloak.

He stares at you but his eyes soon turn distant as a frown furrows deep in his brow, a scene playing out in his mind that you are not privy to. “I cannot let you see,” he whispers.

You turn him to face you, cupping his visible cheek in your hand. “I promise you, Jimin, it will not change how I feel about you.”

He laughs sadly, “It will.”

“Park Jimin, are you calling me shallow?” raising an eyebrow, you challenge him.

He simply shakes his head. “I'm a monster. You shouldn't even be wasting your time here with me.”

“You could never be a monster, your soul is far too pure and good.” 

Slowly leaning up on your tiptoes, you place a chaste kiss against his cheek. “Please, don't hide from me anymore,” you beg.

His eye widens from the touch of your lips and he can't help but turn towards you, focused on your mouth. When his hand comes up to stroke your hair, you lean into his touch and before you know it, your lips are connected. Heat races through you, making your limbs move without thought, hands sliding inside his hood and around the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you.

His arm winds around your waist as he moans into the kiss, desire and love vibrating through you. His soft, pillowy lips mould to yours, moving with fierce determination as your back suddenly meets the doorframe of your bedroom. His hands slide up your spine, pinning you against him. You luxuriate at the feeling of the strong muscles of his body pressed against you.

Wrapped up in his scent, with the feeling of his mouth on yours and his hands embracing you so tightly, your bosom grows with the love your heart has housed for him, still expanding tightly inside you.

You pull away slightly only to gasp for air, and that's when you notice his fallen hood. His body stills when your eyes connect and you see the panic in them, but before he can move, you grab his hands and entwine your fingers with his.

“I hope you are planning on kissing me again, because I don't plan on moving just yet?”

He doesn't respond, but his gaze drifts to your lips and you can see the conflict in his eyes, between running away and giving into temptation.

Detangling your fingers from his, you cup his face with both hands, your thumb strokes the puckered skin on one side of his face. The scars appear like burns, covering one side of him, marring one eye so bad he could barely see out of it. Your fingers go to his thin hair on that side, patches of it missing beneath your fingertips, he looks down and away from you but you steer him back.

“This doesn't change anything, Jimin. You're still the most beautiful man I've encountered.” 

His eyes flit from each of yours, tears brimming the edges, searching for truth within them.

“I would like you to kiss me again,” you say, your voice thick with want, “please.”

Leaning in slowly, he surrenders to your request, pressing his mouth against you once more.

Scene six

When your desire subsides somewhat and your head clears, the two of you manage to part from each other, your growling stomach interrupting the shy silence.

“Shall we eat?” he asks, before taking your hand and leading you down to the kitchen. 

Sitting at the table, you watch in awe as he prepares fresh tomato soup to go with the second loaf you had given him yesterday on your visit. All vegetables grown in his garden and picked by him.

You eat together in silence, exchanging flirtatious and sometimes shy smiles. When your stomachs are full, with night truly closed in, he lights a fire in the drawing room, closes the curtains, and beckons you to join him on the fur rug. 

Watching him in the orange light of the fire, you feel overwhelmed with need. The need to be close to him, the need to take care of him and protect him, even the need to claim him, something you have never felt before. 

“Will you read to me?” you ask, as you join him.

“If that is what you wish of me, then of course.” He grins, and you get lost in it for a moment. The way his two front teeth slightly overlap, his eyes narrowing and his cheeks rounding, everything about him draws you further into the opening blossom of love. 

“May I lay on you?” you ask, pointing to his lap.

He stares at you hesitantly for a moment, before nodding and moving his hands out of your way.

Positioning yourself comfortably on the rug, you lay your head on his legs, feeling the way he tenses slightly from the action but soon relaxes under you.

His hand lingers by your hair indecisively before he pushes any apprehension away and plays with the strands loosely between his fingers. “What would you like me to read?” his voice whispers pleasantly above the crackling firewood. 

“Something you've written.”

“Would you like to hear the poem I wrote for you?”

Your heart soars, hammering wildly in your chest. “You wrote something for me?”

“Hmm-mm.”

You nod frantically, nerves suddenly drying your mouth and rendering you speechless.

He clears his throat quietly and starts,

“In the quiet din of morning's light,

You creep silent and curious into my domain,

An alluring spectre; a breathtaking sight,

Welcomed like that first sweet kiss of spring rain.

The roses bend to catch your gaze,

And the dainty lilies stretch in quiet grace,

As if the garden, in silent praise,

Seeks to beholden the awe of your face.

Your fingers brush the leaves so light,

A touch that makes the greenery hum,

Like a velvety kiss of soft delight,

Or warmth from the day to come.

You pause to take in your fill,

Ivy curling in lazy spirals at your feet,

And for a moment, time stands still,

Even the songbirds pause their larking for a beat.

I watch you, quiet like a shade,

As you explore the blooms beyond my window,

Careless and free, with no mind paid,

Like a beacon of light against unrelenting shadow.

With every glance, you draw me near,

But still I keep my secret held tight,

Afraid you’ll flee if you could hear,

The pain that shapes my heart at night.

Yet in your eyes, I see a spark,

A light that calls to me, calm and clear,

A love that could find me in the dark,

And chase away my most crippling fear.

I wear this pain, my broken mask,

Staying hidden within my castle walls,

But it's in your warmth and light that I wish to bask,

A blue flower in your garden; no longer a ghost of these hallowed halls.”

A wet trail down your cheek spills onto his trousers, a swell of emotion that you could no longer contain. His angelic voice quoting such beautiful prose from memory creates a whirlwind of feelings inside you. Seeing yourself through his eyes and hearing his feelings, so raw and open, moves you in ways you could never have imagined. 

You feel beautiful and emboldened. 

Sitting up, your eyes meet. He smiles sweetly when he sees your tears and gently wipes them away with his thumb. Pressing your lips to his, the inability to stand the distance between you any longer overwhelms you. 

As he holds you in his arms and you lose yourself in the kiss. A vision snaps behind your eyes, removing you from the moment entirely. Unlike the first one, full of love and happiness, this one freezes the blood in your veins and stops it cold as you take in every detail of the horror behind your eyes.

Fire wilts the flowers in the garden, petals curling and turning to ash. Orange light blinding and thick smoke choking, tightening your heaving chest. Demons running rampant through the grounds as you wander unsteadily to find him. And when you do, everything else around you ceases to exist, as your heart splits inside you.

Jimin's lifeless body, upturned and suspended from the tower.

[kindaasrikal]

Garmadon is probably my favourite example of how intrusive thoughts are like.

Is he a little yellow (black?) lego man with cup hands? Yes

Is he also someone whose suffered from intrusive thoughts and desires that he does not want to do since young, and due to suffering through them for so long his resolve eventually broke to these thoughts as he became the one thing he never wanted to be? Yes, yes he is.

For decades upon decades he had to sit with thoughts and desires he knew was bad and had to actively resist against. Dealing with intrusive thoughts is not easy, seeing as it depends on a persons will power, their own self acceptance and awareness on who they are, and how persistent they can be.

With Garmadon, he had to deal with the shame knowing that everyone most close too him knows he has these thoughts and desires and that can way down on a persons self esteem and will/resilience, especially when you seem to be surrounded by someone seemingly ‘perfect’. No one actively shamed Garmadon for having these thoughts (from what i know, though Wu definitely hasn’t) but he probably had more thoughts about how everyone must be mocking him. With the intrusive thoughts getting worse as he grew older, and as his responsibilities grew heavier, there were a few times where Garmadon’s morals and resolve wavered.

Now remember, Garmadon probably already was a grey character (light grey) without the venom strongly influencing him because of the world he grew up in as well as having horrific thoughts since young, which could lead to a sense on normalcy of the content of them. Which could’ve led him to his actions and overall personality being incredibly light grey. The times he wavered were few in between, and i can’t list them all off since i haven’t read the comics, but the most notable one was when he went to go train under Chen.

The reason he might’ve done so could be a few. Due to Chen’s evil nature, he might’ve thought that it might help him in easing and handling these thoughts better. Or it might’ve been a lapse in judgment, or his morals tipping slightly to the darker side.

After all these sort of moments where he almost tipped to the darker side, something just had to give and push him over the edge of finally breaking his already weak grip on his will power to resist against these thoughts, and whatever it was broke it well. He attempted to steal the golden weapons, Kill Wu, and unlock his Oni side, despite having a baby and a wife at the time. And thats not to say Garmadon doesn’t care for those three. He’s shown time and time again that he does. He cares for all three of them and loves them as family. Yet, that doesn’t stop the grip of his intrusive thoughts, nor the easing of suffering mentally once he stopped pushing it down. He’s shown he cares for Wu like how a brother would (like a little shi, though i would say that Garmadon is much more willing to kill Wu then the other two), and he’s shown interest in Misako as a lover (no, i will not forget that straight up grin of his) and how he hasn’t actively sought her out to harm her, and how he has held back against Lloyd, only ever grew and broke free of these thoughts and desires because of Lloyd, and only ever found his true self and freedom and acceptance because of Lloyd.

Garmdon is very much capable of capable of holding back his evil desires and wants when he is given the right reason too, and that reason has always been his family as his SON. His BABY. THATS HIS KID.

But, Garmadon may have special genes and magic powers, but his brain is like any other humans. He was no longer able to fully resist the venom in his veins nor the thoughts in his head as strongly as he used too, because he is no longer young. He is an old man whose whole life was spent resisting a side of him he was horrified at, yet a side of him who he would never be able to truly hide nor resist, when that terrifying demon in his head is still a part of him.

I would like to say though, that while the intrusive thoughts themselves were evil and horrible and straight up terrifying, Garmadon himself never was that kinda person. Theres a reason why Lloyd is his son and why Misako chose him, and why Wu still respects his brother so much. Garmadon is a good person, in a situation he cannot control and a brain he cannot stop. Intrusive thoughts are not things you willingly think, they’re like a stampede of people running up to the microphone to give their own bright ideas all at once, all of the time, and you’re the only audience they talk to. Garmadon was subjected to that since he was a child, and that isn’t easy. The fact that he lasted so long, so many decades, resisting against them and holding himself true to his ideals and true personality is mesmerising to witness and think about. And to think that he can still resist, and then understand and grow with that side of him into a healthier and happier person who is trying, is definitely something he and everyone he ever grew close too wished for, for a very long time.

[thestarlightforge]

Because this “Agatha All Along” thought almost made me burst into tears in the middle of minding my own business, washing dishes and listening to Lorna Wu’s cut of “Ballad,” I’m inflicting it on all of you—

If I can’t hold you…

Remember what I told you…

Now that the sigil is lifted (and the rest of whatever WandaVision memories may have muddled in his mind likely restored), what if this is one of the final episodes’ titles?

This—Billy reciting/remembering this, and casting his first Wish spell in the MCU at the end of the Road to get his family back—intercut with the last (or some similarly sweet) conversation between Agatha, Rio and Nicky?

Imagine: They’re all standing there, after the last Trial, and nobody’s hurt, they beat it—but nothing’s happening. They start getting mad at each other, screaming about WandaVision & Salem & the Darkhold & Sharon & the sacrifices & Alice… He’s sorting through the lyrics, the different lyrics, and it hits him.

Billy: “If I can’t hold you, remember what I told you… It’s the only way we survive.”

Agatha: Lorna was a pop rocker. That’s not even in the Ballad. And you don’t remember shit, do you? William? Billy?

Billy: “You know, a family is forever.”

Agatha turns, curious.

Billy: “We could never truly leave each other, even if we tried.”

Tears well in Billy’s eyes, remembering how Wanda turned to Tommy—how knowing his lack of mind-based powers, she wouldn’t leave until he had understood.

Billy: “You know that, right?”

Rio looks on solemnly, having witnessed this moment in waiting to take the twins to the beyond.

Billy: “Boys?”

Billy barely chokes it out.

Billy: “Thanks for choosing me to be your mom.”

Rio and Agatha’s eyes meet. And they’re young women, playing with Nicky in Salem, 400 years ago.

Billy: “Goodnight, Tommy.”

A stream of flashes: Wanda and Vision and Billy and Tommy—Agatha and Rio and Nicky.

Billy: “Goodnight, Billy.”

Wanda and Vision hugging the boys, Billy and Tommy playing—Agatha watching while Rio tosses Nicky in the air, both of them cackling like mad. Wanda and Vision kissing. Rio and Agatha kissing. All of them happy. Together.

Back to the present. No dry eyes left in the room. Billy’s power warbles as the Road unlocks.

Billy: I’m not missing power, or magic, or memories. I miss them. They are what I’m missing. And I wish… I could have them back.

Maybe he thinks it doesn’t work. Maybe they don’t all appear. But there’s a crackling burst of blue magic, and the Road is done. Because the actual most famous Witch to walk the Road—perhaps who it was created by, even—is not Agatha Harkness, even if she is its only living survivor. And perhaps Agatha even knows this—met this Witch 400+ years ago. The real person the Road is for is the ancient, ancestral, legendary Scarlet Witch. Not Wanda Maximoff—but an earlier incarnation. So of course, it is her most modern incarnation’s words—Wanda’s last to her sons, including this warrior boy who has survived all seven Trials—that unlocks the road’s ending.

Then, we cut away in an end credit sequence to each of Billy’s missing, wished people who we don’t see here—Wanda and Tommy resurrecting across the world, and White Vision fully unlocking Hex Vision’s memories (where previously he may have just had everything through “Infinity War”).

[candysparks]

Even more of Demon! Reader because why not?

[I'm thinking about giving Reader a love interest! You see, I really adore John Constantine. I think his drunk and terrible habits are stupidly charming. Also he's an exorcist and constantly deals with demons, ghosts, cursed spirits, and all that other cool stuff] Content warnings for Cult mentions, fighting, and alcohol.

I want to think that their first meeting was slightly chaotic. Like, Percy just got kidnaped by another cult who was trying to kill him and sever the ties between him and Reader. Why? Idk probably so they could 'free' Reader and make them somehow indebted to them? I haven't worked all of it out yet.

So basically Reader is starting to get pissed off at the fact that these losers keep trying to hurt Percy. So they flip the hell out and start beating these guys up, eating one or two because they are feeling particularly hungry, and in bursts John Constantine.

Dude is, obviously, a bit buzzed and had stumbled into the basement by pure accident. Man just wanted to find more booze in the bar, how was he supposed to know that there was a group of cultist in the basement of the bar?? That's just poor luck and poor planning on both parts.

He takes one look at the slightly crying child and then back to Reader, who is currently ripping some guys head off, and lets outa sigh. From his quick glance he can tell that the kid and the weird demon were the ones being attacked. How you may ask? Because both have chains on and the rest of the people are wearing dumbass cloaks that he's pretty sure they got of fucken Bamazontm.

John does a wave of his hand, golden magic coursing through the air and unlocks the chains on Reader and Percy. Percy takes this chance to dodge the few standing cultist running at him and hides behind Readers back.

Percy, having been raised by Reader for roughly two years at this point, takes up the broken chair and starts beating one of the cultist with it like this is WWE. Reader gives Percy a quick glance, just to see if he's okay, and lets out a laugh. They taught him well.

"Smart kid you've got there" John says as he casually lights a cigarette with his free hand. He doesn't want to take part in whatever is going on here on the account that he's tired and in need of drink. Of course nothing goes as he wants because he spots one of the cultist aiming a gun at the kid, so now he has to act.

In a quick wave of his hand and a quick mutter of a spell, Percy is no longer in harms way. In fact now he's sitting right behind John on the stairs. The gun fires but the bullet gets jammed and Reader punches the guy so hard he flies across the room.

"Just sit right ere' kid" John says before he takes a few steps into the basement room. He picks up a broken bottle, giving it a glance of pity before using it to stab a cultist.

The broken bottle is quickly shattered with the force of his jab, leaving it useless. But John isn't about to get his ass handed to him in a poor bar fight like this, so he starts swinging with his own fists. This catches Readers eyes.

Reader gets smitten almost immediately. In the old dull lighting his hair seems to light up like gold. And the way he fights? The blood splattered on his cheek as he continues to fight with his own hands and his magic? For a demon and kid he's never met before?

Oh wow. If nobody's going to lay claim to that fine piece of human flesh then Reader will. But then the fight ends all too quickly and Percy comes rushing back to Reader, embracing them in a bright hug as the two of them turn back to John.

They both share a look, nodding in a silent agreement of what exactly? Ehh not for us to know just yet. But Percy then breaks off from Reader and tugs on Johns trench coat, playing up the innocent act just a smidge as he thanks him.

John lets out a huff before patting his head with a gentle hand. Reader gives John a pat on the shoulder with a toothy smile. They say something along the lines of 'you fight good' before the three slip into a casual conversation.

Course as the three leave the place John no longer has a worry about looking for any more booze. Reader had given him a wink as they gave it to him as a gift. He takes a look at the new bottle of whiskey in his hands, seems like something straight from hell with the way there's literal fire in the bottle but he doesn't mind.

If Johns heart did a little 'pitter-patter' when Reader patted his shoulder and flashed him that wink then that's no ones business than his own.

This probably could have been written better but I'm feeling a bit lazy. Also I feel like if Reader didn't pick John Constantine then they'd probably pick Barry or Diana. I mean, I don't even have to explain it. Its Barry Allen and Diana Prince. What's not to like about them?

But you also might be thinking, "Why John Constantine? All he does it drink, smoke, and fight demons and the like." And it's really simple. I think him and Reader would be the definition of "Angry Drunk Bastard x Annoying Cosmic Horror" and I find that really silly. Also because I, as said before, find him annoyingly charming.

How does Percy fit into all this? Percy is actually a little shit. I mean lets be real here he was raised by Reader of all people. He's gotta be at least somewhat of a little shit to others. Plus he never really got over the death of his mother so he's clinging on tight to Reader. He doesn't really care if Reader dates because he knows he's always going to be their top priority.

So when he sees that look Reader gives John from across the basement, he doesn't really feel too upset about it. Percy sees how John acts throughout the fight, he knows that a good fighter is what really get's Readers attention in the romance department.

But if you were to ask him on a deeper level then Percy would say it's simply because he thinks John would be a great addition to their small family.

[miumura]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 — TEN THINGS I HATE ; JAY FIC

“ I’ll do better, if you stay with me like this. ”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ where jay keeps a journal where he documents all the reasons he hates you, his rival. despite claiming he will forever hate you, keeping this journal only makes him realize his feelings for you.

PAIRING rival!jay x gn!reader

GENRE angst, fluff — WARNINGS jealousy ; overthinking !

WORD COUNT 1.7K+ (1730)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ soph strikes again!! angst cb, did we cheer?? anyways i was in the feels okay 😢 listening to music while writing really unlocks something in ur brain im telling you…idk what really went thru my mind when making this but enjoy 😊🫶

#1 – HOW YOU’RE GOOD AT EVERYTHING.

Is it normal to have a journal dedicated to someone you hate? Whatever, I just need to get this off my chest. Whenever you’re involved, it’s like I could have nothing I want. It’s stupid, but I don’t care, it just pisses me off when you easily follow instructions, perfect things on your first try, and get all the awards I wish to have. I admit, jealousy consumes me. It's frustrating how effortlessly you seem to achieve anything you want without even trying. Seeing your achievements plastered all over the school only intensifies my anger, making me wish I could tear your posters into shreds. I've never despised second place more than now. Why can't I find contentment with my own scores or position, just like you? How can I remove you from my life and find peace within myself?

#2 – HOW CHEERFUL YOU ARE.

How is it possible for someone to remain so happy throughout the entire day? I can't help but wonder if you possess some magical influence over my friends, as they seem to shower you with compliments non-stop. It's weird to hear nothing but praise for you while I find myself complaining about various things. It's almost as if nobody comprehends why I harbor such animosity towards you, and this frustrates me immensely. Every time I express my emotions, they tell me to laugh and smile more, as if I don't already do it enough. But then, when I contemplate your cheerful and positive demeanor, it becomes clear why they encourage it. You're like the epitome of a model student everyone aspires to be, while I remain the perpetually angry and stubborn person. No wonder everyone wants to spend time with you, and perhaps that's one thing I can agree with others on.

#3 – YOU LIKE THINGS THAT I LIKE.

It's almost like a curse that we share the same interests. It's the reason I keep encountering you everywhere. Whatever I do, you seem to be there, expressing your fondness for the same things with your friends. It's frustrating, and I can't help but roll my eyes at the thought of encountering you even more. Even listening to music has become a challenge, as I know you like the same artists. I purposely skip their songs because they only remind me of you, and I hate being consumed by thoughts of you. I yearn to stop learning more about you so that I can enjoy the things I like in peace, without these constant reminders of you.

#4 – YOU MAKE ME OVERTHINK.

Maybe because of how perfect you seem to be in other’s eyes, I wonder how I look in other people’s eyes too. Am I that awful to hang out with? Am I always seen as this angry person who hates everyone? I’m not that, I know that–my friends do as well. But others? I’m not so sure about that. What confuses me even more is why you persist in wanting to spend time with me despite any perceived flaws or stubbornness on my part. You could easily choose to be with other people who might seem better to converse with. Yet, you continue to stick around, refusing to give up on our “friendship”. And because of this, I can see how others might form a negative opinion about me. My constant push to keep you away could be misunderstood, leading people to believe I'm simply a horrible person.

#5 – YOU LIKE ME.

I'm not sure if you have romantic feelings for me, but I can tell that you consider me a friend. It's interesting because I hadn't thought of you in that way before, but it doesn't seem to bother you. Today, you stood up for me, and it felt really heartening. Normally, I might have felt angry or vulnerable when someone defends me, but this time it was different. I don’t know, it just did feel really nice. Your quick response in telling those people to stop was captivating, even though I didn't express my gratitude at the moment. Lately, I've been struggling with the loud voices in my head, and sometimes I wonder if you could help quiet them too. But now, I'm not sure what I'm trying to convey. You confuse me a lot.

#6 – YOU GIVE THE WRONG PEOPLE SECOND CHANCES.

The other day, I saw you in tears because someone had broken your heart. I must admit, I was taken aback because I had never seen you sad or upset before. It was quite a contrast to the cheerful version of yourself that I'm familiar with. What happened to you that everyone sees all the time? I hope you had someone to tell you your problems too, as it’s not easy for someone who is your rival to be comforting you. I didn’t, so I hope you went home that night filled with less worries because you have someone to talk with.

What surprised me even more was that the very next day, you gave the person who hurt you a second chance. I can't help but wonder why you keep allowing people to hurt you when it's likely they'll repeat the same behavior, ultimately affecting your radiant smile. Stop going back to the people that hurt you once, it’s only going to be a cycle. I wish I could share these thoughts with you, but I hesitate because I doubt you'd take them to heart coming from someone like me. However, I can't help caring despite my own imperfections. It's puzzling to me as well, as you make me feel oddly connected to your feelings.

#7 – SEEING YOUR TEARS.

I never imagined how much I could despise seeing someone cry until the moment I witnessed your tears. Ever since that day, I always thought about it, so how could I let it slip out of my mind this time? I’m sorry for yelling at you today. I’m sorry for saying I hate you. I didn’t mean it, I was just extremely frustrated today, and not at you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I know how saying this won’t do anything, but I truly mean it. I wish I could rewind time once I saw water fill up in your eyes, but what’s done is done. You made me realize something crucial—that I've always seen you as a rival, whereas you only wanted to be friends with me. I allowed my competitive nature to ruin our chances of a meaningful connection. I fear now that you might avoid me, and I understand if you do. I worry that I might continue to hurt you, just like the people you often encounter, who don't treat you with the kindness you deserve. You deserve better than that, and I'm sorry for contributing to your pain.

#8 – GIVING ME ANOTHER CHANCE.

I never imagined we'd get another chance after what happened. I tried avoiding you, genuinely attempting to keep my distance. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't resist reaching out to talk to you again. It's almost as if we both sensed the need to address the situation, leading us to have that important conversation. I still don’t know why you gave me another chance. Did I not say hurtful things to you? How easily are you able to put that behind? Your ability to forgive and move past it leaves me in awe.

It's making me reflect on my own flaws, especially how I tend to hold grudges and struggle to let go of negative feelings. I can't quite comprehend how you do it, but you make me think about you more than ever before. Every word I speak now feels like it needs to be carefully considered, thanks to your presence in my thoughts. Your gesture of offering another chance touched me deeply and brought a smile to my face. I can't help but wonder what you've done to influence me in this way. I think you really did something to me.

#9 – FEELINGS, FEELINGS, FEELINGS.

We've connected much faster than I anticipated, even surprising my friends. I'm left wondering what you've done to me. You've become an all-encompassing thought – your smile, your laughter, your sense of humor – everything about you fills my mind. At times, I ponder whether I ever cross your thoughts too. Could this be love? My friends have mentioned it, and I can't find a way to refute them. I'm fond of you, immensely so. Isn't that a crazy twist?

It's a strange journey we're on. I started this journal to document the reasons I disliked you, but look at where it's led us. Is it too soon to be feeling this way? The idea of revealing my feelings is terrifying, yet I'm unsure if I'll ever have another opportunity. Please bear with me, allow me to find the right moment. Perhaps soon, hopefully, you'll be in my arms. I realize how absurd all this sounds – what am I even saying?

#10 – HOW EASY YOU WON ME OVER.

You won. You won my heart effortlessly, but I didn't win yours in return. I'm burdened with regret for how I've treated you. My ignorance and neglect weigh heavily on me now. It's painfully clear that he's all you've ever been able to think about. Why did I delude myself into thinking I could make a difference? If only I had treated you with the kindness you deserved from the start. Could that have made you love me instead? These thoughts haunt me.

I've grown aware of my own attachment, and I'm sorry for allowing it to consume me. I apologize for the disruption I've caused in your recent weeks. I can't bring myself to be genuinely happy for you and him, though he does seem like a better man than I could ever be. It's evident that I need to move on for your sake, to make things easier for you. Yet, there's a part of me that wishes I could still claim you as mine. That longing will always remain unchanged.

I doubt you'll ever stumble upon this journal entry, not that I would ever permit anyone to. But regardless, I want you to know that I do love you. It's a truth that's etched deeply within me, even though it pains me to admit it.

💭 — fun fact this was supposed to have a happy ending until i pulled out spotify n listened to lyn lapid…yeah.

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (🎥) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @yenavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @starcubes @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @woon2u @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @flwrshee @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hey !

I love reading your posts , you are brilliant truly.

I would like to request an analysis of James potter and maybe his relationship with lily Evans.

Thank you so much for your time !

Hi!

Thank you so much! 💕 I love writing these analysis posts, and I'm so glad other people enjoy reading them!

Now, James and Lily Potter, I'll start by giving my biased opinion which is that I like them as characters (especially Lily, love her) and their relationship.

So without further ado:

James Potter's Childhood

So before the Pottermore article that revealed Fleamont and Euphemia existed, the common fanon parents of James were Charlus and Dorea, I'm going to go with Fleamont and Euphemia being his parents though. (I still sometimes prefer his parents to be Charlus and Dorea in fic, even though it makes less sense with what we know about James, as I'll mention later).

So what do we know about the Potter family?

We know they are pretty rich. Not Malfoy or Black level rich, but they have a substantial amount of money as shown repeatedly:

Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Harry gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts.

(PS, 57)

We also know, from Pottermore, that the Potters are relatively newer money, making a good portion of their wealth from Henry Potter’s potions business (James' grandfather).

We also know Potters are common enough members in the Wizengamont from Pottermore. I posed here that the Wizengamot seats pass down families, which will place the Potters as wealthy and influential in the wizarding community as a whole.

“My whole family have been in Slytherin,” he said. “Blimey,” said James, “and I thought you seemed all right!” Sirius grinned. “Maybe I’ll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?” James lifted an invisible sword. “’Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!’ Like my dad.” Snape made a small, disparaging noise. James turned on him. “Got a problem with that?”

(DH, 567)

We know from James his father was in Gryffindor and probably his grandfather too. His distaste towards Slythering and anything resembling Dark Magic probably came from home. The same way Draco came to Hogwarts with his notions of blood purity and how Slytherin was the best house because he was parroting his parents, James is the same. He is an 11-year-old shouting off whatever he hears at home.

This is why I mentioned Fleamont and Euphemia make more sense as James' parents. As much as I personally like the idea of his parents being Charlus and Dorea, it wouldn't make sense with what we see. Dorea was born a Black, which means James would likely know who Sirius is and would probably have different notions regarding Slytherin house if his mother was there...

James Potter, then, grew up as the only child of a rich and politically influential family of Gryffindors, he was spoiled and used to having anything he wanted whenever he wanted, which is clear from his behavior.

James yawned hugely and rumpled up his hair, making it even messier than it had been. Then, with a glance toward Professor Flitwick, he turned in his seat and grinned at a boy sitting four seats behind him.

(OotP, 642)

He is brilliant and he is aware of it. Lily refers to him as arrogant often before they start dating, and I have to agree with her assessment of the teenage James. James at 15 is lounging in his seat and feels untouchable. He is at the top of his own world, popular, rich, and brilliant. So of course he's arrogant, he feels like nothing could reach him.

Ron said, stopping mid-sentence at the look on Harry’s face. “Why are you grinning?” “I’m not,” said Harry quickly, looking down at his Transfiguration notes and attempting to straighten his face. The truth was that Ron had just reminded Harry forcibly of another Gryffindor Quidditch player who had once sat rumpling his hair under this very tree.

(OotP, 704)

But it isn't that simple. James chooses to appear unbothered and untouchable, and I do think he is prideful but not as arrogant as Lily and Snape make him out to be, even at 15. The reason I think that is the above passage. I never really saw anyone bring it up in association with James' character, but Harry mentions Ron messing up his hair as he brags about his Quidditch save in much the same way James did in the memory he saw. The reason this is interesting is that we know Ron, we know how insecure he is and that all this hair messing is show and bravado that isn't fully backed up.

And considering the parallels I already mentioned James having with Draco and will mention more of them later, I wonder if James really does have insecurities he covers up with pride and arrogance — something we see both Ron do (in the above scene) and Draco do in general.

James Potter, when it comes down to it, has more in common with Draco Malfoy than with Harry in terms of his personality and even character arc, down to some of the things he says:

“Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?” James asked the boy lounging on the seats opposite him, and with a jolt, Harry realized that it was Sirius. Sirius did not smile.

-James Potter to Sirius Black, 1971 (DH, 567)

“Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been — imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”

-Draco Malfoy to Harry Potter, 1991 (PS, 58)

So James is spoiled, snobbish, and used to getting his way in everything, unlike Lily and Sirius, who grew up with siblings and were more used to having to share or give up their wants sometimes. James also feels the need to live up to certain expectations, he has to be the best (the way Draco thought he would be at Hogwarts), he needs to be popular and top of the class and a lot of his pride and confidence probably hinges on these external sources, his arrogance is superficial. I just can't see a character who has real self-confidence be shown in narrative parallels to either Ron "self-esteem issues" Weasley or Draco "Arrogance to Hide Weakness" Malfoy.

The Mauraders

We move on to James' time at Hogwarts. He gets sorted into Gryffindor and befriends the Mauraders. I kinda want to talk about their friendship dynamic a bit, because it is interesting.

We saw in the earlier quote from the train, that Sirius was the first of the Mauraders James met, and he was the closest to him out of the bunch. I'm going to talk more about Sirius and James' friendship later in this post as they are a separate entity from the Marauders. I mean, there's a reason everyone in PoA keeps mentioning James and Sirius in a single breath while Lupin is never brought up.

(I know the reason is so JKR could keep the reveal for later, but in universe, it's quite telling)

Now, from what we see of them, they have a very clear dynamic. James is the leader, and Sirius is his second and only real equal (academically and by popularity) who are the closest to each other. Then we have Remus, who is friends with them, but they don't take him or his concerns as seriously. Remus was usually afraid to speak up against James and Sirius because he felt he was expandable to the friend group, a feeling Peter shared, if even worse than Remus. James and Sirius didn't really treat Peter great:

“Put that away, will you?” said Sirius finally, as James made a fine catch and Wormtail let out a cheer. “Before Wormtail wets himself from excitement.” Wormtail turned slightly pink but James grinned. “If it bothers you,” he said, stuffing the Snitch back in his pocket. Harry had the distinct impression that Sirius was the only one for whom James would have stopped showing off.

(OotP, 645)

Sirius is the one James actually takes cues from and vice versa. Pettigrew is often belittled and made the butt of their jokes and Remus:

“I’m bored,” said Sirius. “Wish it was full moon.” “You might,” said Lupin darkly from behind his book.

(OotP, 345)

“How thick are you, Wormtail?” said James impatiently. “You run round with a werewolf once a month —” “Keep your voice down,” implored Lupin. Harry looked anxiously behind him again.

(OotP, 643)

Is treated friendlier than Peter, but not with the same respect James and Sirius reserve for each other. James mentions Remus is a werewolf in a crowded hall, Sirius endangered Remus' secret during The Prank. We see Sirius doesn't really take Remus' Lycanthropy as the serious concern it is for Remus. Obviously, Sirius gets better about it, but this is the dynamic of the Marauders the way we see them. It's a far cry from a healthy friend group, but they were teenagers, and teens actually do on occasion have these kinds of friend groups that you question if it can be called friendship (I know I've seen a few of these in my school). I think the adult Remus and Sirius we see in OotP are closer than they were in school, and the reason for that was the war and having no one else really, but this is a James meta and not a Mauraders in general meta, so I'll focus.

Prongs

Many in the fandom already talked about what a brilliant and insane feat of magic becoming animagi at 15 is. We know James was a prodigy in Transfiguration and other areas of magic as well considering his confidence regarding the DADA exam. What I want to talk about Prongs, in particular, is the symbolism of a stag as one's Animagus form.

I talked about this a little already here, but basically, stags and deers in general represent:

The cycle of life and death

Agility and grace

Bravery

Nobility

Stags additionally represent:

Masculinity

Authority

Leadership

Fatherhood

So, what does all this tell us about James?

Well, it tells us he is as Gryffindor as they come (Bravery & Nobility), the cycle of life & death is his connection to the Peverells and his own early demise. Agility and grace make sense as well if you take it to mean he was a talented and graceful dueler, which is very possible and even likely.

And then we have the stag-specific traits. These are traits I think James only grew into later in life and would've grown into more. I mean, he was always charismatic and had the ability to lead people, he was leading the Mauraders and was incredibly popular. But I think the traits of the stag with fatherhood and authority suggest maturity, something the young James definitely lacked. I think his Animagus, more than anything proves he did change, and would've continued growing into himself to truly become the stag if he was given a chance to grow old. Because stags are positive leadership, father figures, and authority, they are supposed to represent the noblest kinds of leaders they have the internal self-confidence James lacks. And if that is the animal that represents James, it means he had it in him to be what the stag represents.

Bullying and Maturity

Sirius said it well enough:

“Yeah,” said Harry, “but he just attacked Snape for no good reason, just because — well, just because you said you were bored,” he finished with a slightly apologetic note in his voice. “I’m not proud of it,” said Sirius quickly. Lupin looked sideways at Sirius and then said, “Look, Harry, what you’ve got to understand is that your father and Sirius were the best in the school at whatever they did — everyone thought they were the height of cool — if they sometimes got a bit carried away —” “If we were sometimes arrogant little berks, you mean,” said Sirius. Lupin smiled. “He kept messing up his hair,” said Harry in a pained voice. Sirius and Lupin laughed. “I’d forgotten he used to do that,” said Sirius affectionately. “Was he playing with the Snitch?” said Lupin eagerly. “Yeah,” said Harry, watching uncomprehendingly as Sirius and Lupin beamed reminiscently. “Well . . . I thought he was a bit of an idiot.” “Of course he was a bit of an idiot!” said Sirius bracingly. “We were all idiots!

(OotP, 670)

James was an awful bully, toward Snape:

“This’ll liven you up, Padfoot,” said James quietly. “Look who it is. . . .” Sirius’s head turned. He had become very still, like a dog that has scented a rabbit. “Excellent,” he said softly. “Snivellus.”

(OotP, 645)

“And stopped hexing people just for the fun of it,” said Lupin. “Even Snape?” said Harry. “Well,” said Lupin slowly, “Snape was a special case. I mean, he never lost an opportunity to curse James, so you couldn’t really expect James to take that lying down, could you?” “And my mum was okay with that?” “She didn’t know too much about it, to tell you the truth,” said Sirius. “I mean, James didn’t take Snape on dates with her and jinx him in front of her, did he?”

(OotP, 671)

And even toward Peter, who Sirius and James constantly belittle:

“How thick are you, Wormtail?” said James impatiently. “You run round with a werewolf once a month —”

(OotP, 643)

I mentioned above how the 15-year-old James wasn't really the embodiment of the stag just yet, like Sirius said they were idiots. Sure, Harry rightfully calls them out that it isn't a good excuse for anything they did, but Harry is a very mature 15-year-old.

As for what motivated his bullying?

Honestly, I think it wasn't all that dissimilar to Draco, in terms of motivations at least. I mentioned above how James' conception of himself is tied to his being at the top, the most popular, the most talented, the top student. One way to feel at the top is to put others down. Most of his bullying was probably fueled by this need to assure himself he is better and assert control (but, more on that later).

I don't think Snape should forgive James or any of the Mauraders or anything like that, not at all, what they did to him was awful and the fact James continued seeking him out even after he mostly dropped the bullying makes it so much worse.

But at the same time, I tend to believe Sirius, Remus, and Lily about him changing, that, given time, he would've matured even more:

“Look,” he said, “your father was the best friend I ever had, and he was a good person. A lot of people are idiots at the age of fifteen. He grew out of it.”

(OotP, 671)

I'm a big believer that people can and do change over time, especially teenagers. Life experiences change who you are, especially big and traumatic occasions, and James encountered one hell of a life experience to kick-start his growth and maturity:

The first wizarding war

I won't go into the full detail on what happened in the war but I want to talk about how the war changed James.

I discussed the progression of the first war as part of my analysis of Voldemort here and when James and Lily went into hiding here. Now, the Marauders were in school between September of 1971 and June of 1978. As I mentioned in the Voldemort analysis post I linked, the war really started getting bad, the first casualties, were in 1975 when the minister of magic was replaced. This makes James and the Mauraders 5th or 6th years when the war truly begins. I personally think this was late in 1975, as in November or December when the Minister was booted from office, aligning well with James' change.

What I think this was for him is a moment the rug was pulled from under him.

I think, the same way the second war showed Draco who he is as a person, that he doesn't want to hurt and torture, not even muggleborns, the first war was the same for James. He learned about himself and his own priorities. He just learned different things than Draco because James is very much willing to hurt and probably kill for what he thinks is just and for the people he cares for. He can be cruel and ruthless.

The wizarding world is an incredibly small community, with this kind of small population that almost all work together (the ministry) when someone dies, especially someone important (I believe the first deaths were high in the ministry or even Wizengamont members) it rattles everything. For James, who felt his skill, money, and status made him practically untouchable, this is a slap in the face. This to him starts his journey to see he is not above anyone else and he is just like anyone else — can die and hurt like everyone else.

War, even when you aren't on the front lines, even just hearing that Mr. Whatever's brother was killed and your old neighbors who moved away lost their son — it doesn't leave you unscathed. It forces you to confront how little control over certain aspects of life you actually have. And in a community so small that every death is someone you at least knew in passing or knew someone who knew — every death hits hard. Every death feels too close to home.

I think this is part of why James continued bullying Snape even after his change in approach. It wasn't out of the same arrogance as before, now it's by a need to feel in control. To hurt a familiar enemy that represents the Death Eaters to feel a semblance of stability under his feet. I think, this was part of what motivated James, a roundabout justice against the Death Eaters at large when he felt powerless. So he took it on whoever he could — in this case, Snape.

I'm not trying to justify it, I'm just explaining what I think motivated James and why he would do that if he was in the process of changing for the better.

All of this gives James ample motivation to join the Order, after all, he wants to hit back against the Death eaters, he wants to feel balanced and in control again. So he probably jumped at the opportunity to join the Order.

The Order of the Phoenix

We don't know much about what James did in the Order, and it doesn't matter too much for the sake of analysis. We know he joined at graduation, so, June 1978. I also mentioned in the aforementioned post how the war got worse in 1979, which means that before he went into hiding, James was probably involved in a few skirmishes in the war when it was already at its peak.

We also know James and Lily got married incredibly early, almost immediately after graduating. That too, is probably influenced by the war. After all, war can either speed up life events or slow them down, depending on various factors among which is the optimism of the people involved. James and Lily getting married and pregnant in the middle of the war tell us something about their characters — it tells us they were incredibly optimistic and hopeful for the future. They got married and had Harry in the hope and belief that the war would be over soon enough and Harry would grow up in a better world. That is what they believed in and I think this is just, really interesting.

Then they went into hiding, and we know what happened from there. There are two things I want to mention about this period in hiding in regards to James' character.

First, James' first choice was Sirius, Sirius is the one to convince him to choose Pettigrew instead:

“Harry . . . I as good as killed them,” he croaked. “I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me. . . . I’m to blame, I know it. . . .

(PoA, 365)

As I mentioned above, the Mauraders looked down on Pettigrew. I think the plan always was to tell everyone Sirius was the secret keeper so he'd draw the fire and torture and potential death, so the real secret keeper, and the secret, would remain safe even if he was killed for it (which is a sad thought, but that's about Sirius).

Pettigrew was chosen by Sirius for how unassuming he is, Sirius is so ready to sacrifice his life for his friends that he couldn't fathom Pettigrew wouldn't do the same. James didn't choose Pettigrew because of his faith in him as a friend the way Voldemort implies, no, I think James chose Pettigrew because of his faith in Sirius. If Sirius said its a good idea, then it was a good idea to James.

Second, is this quote:

James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell

(DH, 158)

There are two things I want to unpack in this one sentence (I do love doing that).

James, quite similar to Sirius in OotP, doesn't like being cooped up away from the action. He hates not being out there for very similar reasons to Sirius. He loathes feeling useless like he isn't doing anything to help while people are dying. While his friends are risking their lives. James, at his core, is a person who cares deeply for the people he considers his, he would feel incredible guilt sitting safely behind magical protections while they were in danger.

Lily says James is trying to hide how frustrated he actually is, this is significant, why? Well because the 15-year-old version of James who complained easily about being a little bored wouldn't have hid his complaints. He would have voiced them to anyone willing to listen. The fact he isn't doing that shows some of his growth and maturity, it shows he is self-aware enough about the situation that he knows he shouldn't be the one complaining considering he and his family are safe. He still feels frustrated for the above reasons, but he tries to be considerate and keep things at home with Lily as intense as he can in the way he thinks is best. He is actively trying, and I think that's important.

Now, James has two important relationships that really define his character for me. Sirius and Lily.

Quite the Double Act

I adore James and Sirius's friendship honestly, they were each other's most important person and I can't really talk about James without talking about Sirius (as seen in this entire post), after all, no one in the books seems able to operate these two when talking about them in POA:

“Naturally,” said Madam Rosmerta, with a small laugh. “Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here — ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!”

(PoA, 204)

Sirius and James met on the train at the age of 11 and couldn't be separated since (well, until death, that is). They are the heart of the Mauraders as a friend group and I've seen some other blogs bring up already how unhinged their friendship was:

This is a two-way mirror. I’ve got the other. If you need to speak to me, just say my name into it; you’ll appear in my mirror and I’ll be able to talk in yours. James and I used to use them when we were in separate detentions.

(OotP, 858)

They literally invented an advanced magical communication method so they wouldn't have to go an hour without talking to each other. When we see them finishing the exam in SWM, the first person they look at is each other and communicate with no words that the exam was great.

These two are just, on the same wavelengths. I had a friend in high school who, when we would talk to other people, and she'd be unsure how to say something so she'll just turn to me, communicate a whole ass concept in eye contact alone, and then I'll explain it aloud to whoever we were talking to. I am convinced James and Sirius were like that too, where they didn't even need to talk to understand each other, they just knew.

For them the answer to "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" was always "Yes" or "Now I do"

Sirius was the best man at James' wedding, Harry's godfather and he still held a special place for James, to the point Lily was very aware of it:

If you could visit, it would cheer him up so much.

(DH, 158)

I mean, I don't know of many friendships like this, where the guy's wife asks his best friend over because they were apart for too long and getting antsy. I mean, it is bizarre.

In my head, if there wasn't a war, Sirius would've probably practically moved in with James and Lily. Sure, he had his own apartment, but you'd rarely ever find him there.

During the war it was too risky, James and Lily were in hiding and Sirius was doing missions for the Order, but again, if there wasn't a war, I think Sirius and James would've still been joined at the hip way into adulthood.

Sirius is one of the only two people James would ever take cues from no questions asked. I just, love them, okay.

Head Boy and Head Girl

Now, to James' second most important relationship: Lily.

James' crush on Lily started pretty early in their school years. We know it wasn't quite a love-at-first-sight as in the meeting on the train we don't really see any of it. I would guess his crush on her started growing as he got to know her as a housemate. I think James liked how smart and talented Lily was. James considers himself the best, his best friend is also the best, a top student, handsome and popular — his crush would be the same. Lily's kindness, likeability, and intelligence were huge turn-ons for him, not just the fact she was gorgeous (but that too).

I want to talk about this quote:

then back at James, who was now doodling on a bit of scrap parchment. He had drawn a Snitch and was now tracing the letters L. E. What did they stand for?

(OotP, 642)

This is adorable. James is a romantic guy, he was doodling Lily's initials on a spare parchment. I bet he wrote out "Lily Potter" in hearts and everything. I find it hilarious and adorable and it both shows he had a crush on her, but it also shows a really dorky and romantic side that no one (of the characters we meet) mentions because they probably haven't seen it. Well, Sirius probably did, but he doesn't really get many chances to talk to Harry about James unfortunately.

Sirius mentions that they went out on dates (something Harry and Ginny don't really do), and with James doodling Lily's initials I bet they were super cheesy and romantic. He'll take her out to picnics and light candles and carve their initials in a heart on a tree.

If they lived to raise Harry, they'd be the kind of parents who had a weekly date night and left their kids with Sirius for the evening.

“I didn’t mean—I just don’t want to see you made a fool of—He fancies you, James Potter fancies you!” The words seemed wrenched from him against his will. “And he’s not. . . everyone thinks. . . big Quidditch hero—” Snape’s bitterness and dislike were rendering him incoherent, and Lily’s eyebrows were traveling farther and farther up her forehead. “I know James Potter’s an arrogant toerag,” she said

(DH, 569)

Now, about some of the downsides of their relationship.

Yeah, James was persistent in flirting with Lily for years before she agreed to go out with him. He bullied her best friend and acted like an idiot. She considered him an "arrogant toerag" which isn't very complementary.

That being said, even when she calls him out, she still defends him to Snape in the above conversation. While Lily disapproved of James' behavior, I don't think she ever really hated him, not the way Snape did. She didn't like how he was acting, but she didn't hate him:

“Oh, well, he always made a fool of himself whenever Lily was around,” said Sirius, shrugging. “He couldn’t stop himself showing off whenever he got near her.” “How come she married him?” Harry asked miserably. “She hated him!” “Nah, she didn’t,” said Sirius. “She started going out with him in seventh year,” said Lupin. “Once James had deflated his head a bit,” said Sirius.

(OotP, 671)

I think Sirius is right about this for the reasons I mentioned above. Lily never really hated James, just thought he was an idiot (rightfully so) and once he got less arrogant, she was more willing to date him.

I think their relationship wasn't a bad one, I think they did love each other and mostly got along really well. I think Lily liked James' sense of humor after it mellowed out a bit and she liked that he's smart and talented. I think James liked Lily's calmness and intelligence and how much she cared for people.

Yeah, they probably argued about a lot of stupid things (I think they enjoyed their stupid arguments and barbs on occasion not unlike Ron and Hermione), but overall, I do like their relationship, I think they balanced each other out. James pushes Lily to allow herself to be a little silly, and Lily can put James in his place when he is being an idiot or needlessly cruel. And they are both incredibly smart and compassionate people... whenever I think about them it kinda makes me sad they didn't get to raise Harry. That Harry wouldn't have such a low view of himself, he'll probably have younger siblings, be used to having Sirius (and Remus too, to a lesser degree) around constantly, he would've been the top student in practically everything... I mean, he'd have a different set of issues, I'm sure, but, I don't know, I just made myself sad.

The fandom is pretty split on James, some talk about him as if he's some flawless sunshine child, which isn't the case. Yes, James is loyal, brave, and compassionate, but he can be cruel and ruthless and he uses arrogance as a mask for his insecurities and need to be great (I think James Potter could be a Slytherin, tbh). But on the flip side, some fans consider him nothing but a bully, and I tend to give him more credit than that. I think he was always more than that, but I believe Sirius, Remus, and Lily that he did change, and he probably would have continued to improve to become the brave and compassionate leader the stag represents if he had lived longer.

This post turned out way longer than I expected it to, but, here you go, James Potter's analysis of the top of my head.

[seat-safety-switch]

People ask me how I learned about so many different things. It's easy: I experiment a lot. Some folks are afraid to try pushing a new button in their word processor, or trying an alternative cooking time on their microwave. They know what works, and they fear that deviating from that golden path will lead them to horrible, confusing misery as the thing they rely on has broken, and it's all their fault.

Friends: everything I own breaks all the time. It is literally impossible to discern "my fault" from "it was just old." That's where my power comes from. I push whatever button I want, and then find out what it does. Sometimes it burns up a wiring harness, or ejects some part of the machine that I needed. Most of the time, though, I learn about a cool new feature I didn't know existed. For instance, did you know that the doors in my car can lock?

Now, I don't want to sound like I'm always trying out new things. For years, I'd been afraid of pushing different buttons on my washing machine. You see, it's very old, and a little finicky, and I had finally found a magic combination of options that got my clothes washed without turning them into microplastic dust. Then, one morning, I got a little froggy. Things hadn't been going well for me in the other projects, and I wanted to assert some control over my life. I pushed the "Custom Program" button.

Nothing seemed to happen. In fact, the screen went blank. And then I heard the helicopters. You see, I never got a manual with this clothes washer (because I found it floating in the river.) I had no idea what "Custom Program" would do, but secretly hoped it would unlock magic cleaning powers. What it actually did was cause the LG Corporation to mark me for death.

Just because I've been on the run from snipers and other heavily-armed mercenaries for the last sixteen months is no reason for you not to experiment. For instance, you could go push the "Custom Program" button on your own washing machine. That would probably draw away at least half of the highly trained assassins bearing down on me at this exact moment. Hell, maybe push it two or three times, really help me out. I would love to have a little more time to myself and less spent fleeing gun-toting psychopaths. Who knows what I'll discover next?

[sisterofthesouth]

i love that jasmine's anti-monarchy arc isn't resolved by somehow convincing her that Monarchy Is Good, Actually. no one in deltora, not even lief and barda, really believe that the king could save them. whatever faith they have is in the Belt, not the line of kings. the king's duty is first and foremost to his people, and when the kings of deltora stopped seeing themselves as protectors and servants of the people and started embracing their status as wealthy monarchs, the shadow lord started creeping in.

and for lief the quest is never about the king or the heir, it's about freeing the land and the people. the king, the heir, whoever they are, are just a means to an end. the heir is just a key that needs to be found to unlock the full power of the Belt. but if the quest does not succeed, even if the heir is dead or never found, the quest itself can never be considered a failure because it has already brought so much freedom and hope to western deltora. this is the first book where the trio is not able to free a people or location from the grip of the shadow lord, but seeing the situation in noradz lief finds compassion for them, even though they are strange and indoctrinated and unfriendly, he makes a promise to set them free when the belt has been restored.

and this is so key for lief. finding the gems is the goal, but the goal is only half the story. the other half is the process. along the way lief brings freedom to so many people who are different from him and carry all kinds of flaws: they're selfish, they're oathbreakers, they're liars, or brutes - but they are never not worth saving. we see this to the extreme in rithmere and in noradz and among the resistance, people like neridah, glock, jinks, and even doom are not particularly likeable, good, or moral people. but they are deltorans, and deltorans deserve to be free. a king will not save them. faith and unity will.

and so the only kind of king who could be a boon to the downtrodden, monarchy-sick deltorans is someone who has seen their suffering and partaken in it and alleviated it with his own hand. someone who has travelled far and wide and seen his whole country and knows the people and their cultures and their fears and their desires, someone who has brought unity and peace, whose heart is full of compassion and faith in the rich magic of the land. someone who never had any pride or grandiose dreams. someone like adin. someone who never knew he could be king. a blacksmith's boy.

[27dragons]

Countdown to 2025: Dec 4

Supernatural AU / Marvel - Winteriron / Ember

The whole time they were eating dinner, Bucky couldn’t help but notice the way Tony was looking at him. Staring. They’d been dating for just over a year, and they had been friends for several years before that, and he’d never seen Tony look at him quite so intently, almost as if he were weighing Bucky’s very soul. 

Of course, Tony being a witch -- the last of a long line of extremely powerful witches on his mother’s side, enhanced with his father’s talent for technomancy -- it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility that Tony actually was weighing Bucky’s soul.

Bucky, who hadn’t even known magic was real until he’d been kidnapped and experimented on by the Hydra Coven, still didn’t know enough about Tony’s magic to gauge the situation. He spent a significant portion of the meal wondering whether to ask, or just pretend he hadn’t noticed.

But as he was scraping up the last smears of a decadent chocolate torte, just as he was about to decide that he couldn’t stand not knowing, it was Tony who broke and said, “If we’re going to keep seeing each other, I need to show you something. So you know what you’re getting into.”

Tony looked nervous, so Bucky swallowed all the questions that had immediately leapt to mind. Instead, he reached across the table to take Tony’s hand, squeezing it gently. “I trust you.”

With a wan smile, Tony led Bucky through his apartment. He thumbed the reader that unlocked the door to his workshop, then caught up Bucky’s hand again to lead the way down the stairs.

Bucky had been in the workshop before. They’d spent a lot of time there together while Tony had been unraveling the curse that the Hydra had put on him. For Bucky, the workshop was a place of wonder and mystery and comfort, all wrapped up together. He drew a deep breath as they entered, enjoying the fresh, green scent coming from the dozens of pots and tubs of rare and dangerous herbs that were arranged on one side of the massive room. Beyond the plants was an elaborate cat tree. Bucky’s eyes flicked from point to point until he’d located DUM-E and U, lounging in their customary hammocks, and JARVIS, nearly the size of a mountain lion, watching from the topmost perch, paws folded under him loaf-style. The familiar’s golden eyes followed them as they passed.

Tony brushed past his worktable and barely glanced at the cauldron on its hook. He trailed his fingertips across the handle of his broom, but didn’t take it down from its pegs on the wall.

Instead, he led Bucky to a sturdy bookcase at the very back corner of the workshop, filled with books both obscure and arcane, and pushed on it until it slid soundlessly to one side, revealing yet another door.

This one required a fingerprint and a retina scan to open, and when it opened, a rune floated in the air, dark red and throbbing with menace. Tony sketched a counterspell in the air that sent a bright blue dart into the center of the rune and caused it to get sucked into its own center.

“This is a lot of security,” Bucky observed. “You sure you really want me to see whatever this is?”

“Yep.” Tony led Bucky down a narrow hall, and Bucky got the distinct impression that they were passing through more invisible security measures and checkpoints. Finally, the hall ended in yet another door. This one, Tony opened without any impediment or fanfare, revealing what looked at first glance to be a quiet reading room.

There was a tall bookcase and a large, overstuffed chair with a blanket draped over its back. A table beside it waited for a mug and a plate of snacks. On the opposite side of the room was another shelf covered with knickknacks -- framed photos, crystals of various sizes and colors and shapes, several figurines, several delicate and airy glass structures. In the center of the shelf was a tiny bronze brazier, small enough that Bucky could have cupped it in his hands.

It was the brazier that Tony lifted down. He set it on the table, and murmured a quiet incantation as he ran his thumb around its rim. It sang like a crystal goblet at the contact, and then what Bucky had thought was a lump of coal in its center burst into light, a brilliant blue ember that pulsed gently.

He clenched his teeth together to keep his questions behind them.

Tony said something to the light with a soft, respectful tone in a language Bucky had never heard before, then turned to Bucky. “This is La Fonte della Fenice. It’s the fire at the heart of the Phoenix, and it has been the sacred trust of the Carbonelli family for nearly three thousand years.”

“It’s beautiful,” Bucky breathed, and he didn’t think he was imagining the way the glow pulsed a little brighter. “But why show it to me? I can see how much effort you’ve gone to to keep everyone away from it.” With difficulty, Bucky tore his gaze from the glimmering light to find Tony leaning against the bookshelf, one hand stuffed into his pocket, the very picture of insouciant carelessness.

One side of Tony’s mouth twitched, and he looked into Bucky’s eyes for a long moment. “Well,” he said finally, “I figured you should see what you’d be taking on if you were going to join the family.”

“What?”

Tony’s hand emerged from his pocket, a small box in his curled fingers. “That is, if you’ll do me the honor.”

[rexomi]

Inquisition Replay Rambles

I'm replaying Inquisition and I want to ramble about it a bit. This is going to be a bit of analysis about his first conversation with Lavellan. This will be of course only my opinion, I think part of the appeal of Solas is there are so many facets to him that there's a lot that could be said depending on what speaks to you personally.

This will only be through the lens of Inquisition. I am not interested in discussing through VGs lens. Due to continuity, I will be referring to the Inquisitor as the Herald/prisoner/Lavellan depending on which is relevant.

But also I don't care, I just really want talk about Solas and make you look at screenshots so here we go.

It's very important to me to state how early in game this is. You potentially haven't even left Haven yet and I think that sheds some light on what exactly Solas' purpose is with this conversation. This unlocks after the Inquisition is reborn officially. In the game Solas is nowhere to be found during this scene but in universe Solas probably watched the Herald's first walk up to the Chantry after waking up.

Mere days ago a prisoner was dragged through Haven in chains. While we do not know exactly what happened between first appearing in front of the ruined Temple and waking in chains, it would not surprise me if Solas had pleaded for the prisoner's life. Not out of any affection but out of desperation. His Focus is still missing and whatever hope he has to regain it is the magic in the prisoner's hand.

He had talked with her on the march up the the Temple of Sacred ashes but she was still the Prisoner then; now the Herald of Andraste walks up to him.

He's testing the Herald.

Solas is gambling. He's desperately trying to predict where the dice will fall. He cannot retrieve the Mark or he would've already. What will she do with this power? Not only the ability to close the Rifts and Breach but also the sheer belief that is being placed on her. If she is capable enough he only knows that will grow.

He is in a very precarious situation. He is everything the Chantry despises and he is painfully aware of it. Still weak from waking from Uthenara just earlier that year. So to test her he offers her pieces of himself, who he is at his core - an Elven Apostate who seeks out the company of spirits - and waits to see what she says.

He is risking so much by these admissions. Templars wield the brand for lesser "crimes" than being an odd apostate. Elves are seen as spiritually and legally lesser, the Chantry declaring their souls further from the Maker. Spirit Healers face greater suspicion from Templars, terrified that they'll turn abomination due to their proximity to spirits. Dreamers are considered generally extinct (with Feynriel being stated to be the first in two centuries) but we can assume that a Templar would be even more terrified of one.

His dialogue then splits into two paths.

Lavellan can choose to either answer his question directly or instead question further on those intriguing thoughts he brought up. While personally I generally ask about him I do think there is merit in looking at the other options. Screenshot from Daitranscripts.

With a single question he has a better understanding of the Herald. Of her foundations. While she may change as her power grows it gives him the starting block to try and analyze her. But Lavellan can turn this around, she can learn from him instead.

I have to give massive amounts of credit to GDL here because Solas' voice changes subtly when you ask him about his studies. Up until this point, Solas has talked a bit stiffly in those first few lines. As I said he is testing the Herald and there's this firmness underlying it as he refuses to reveal his hand. That drops from Solas' voice when he begins to talk about the Fade and his dreams.

This Solas is a bit freer, it crescendos if Lavellan compliments his skill. I sincerely doubt Solas had any idea that anyone would show a genuine interest in his cavorting with what the world would see as Demons and it shatters his previous pretense. This is unscripted and for a moment Solas glimmers through.

He even smiles. it's faint but the corners of his lips turn up.

This is a surprise but a pleasant one. Genuine appreciation was far beyond anything I think Solas could prepare for when he started this line of conversation. For a few moments they're just two people, sharing a pleasant discussion about his interests. What he learns of Lavellan is worthy of respect, albeit still tempered by his caution.

While I realize it is a game limitation - why record three versions of one line when one will do - there is something jolting about how his face sobers in the next line. That moment is gone, he can't let himself get too carried away. He stares off into the distance somewhere past Lavellan and his expression straightens. That sternness is back.

I will stay then, at least until the Breach has been closed.

He's back to subtly pushing the Herald, to see their reactions.

Was that in doubt? I am an apostate mage surrounded by Chantry forces and unlike you, I do not have a divine mark protecting me./I am an apostate surrounded by Chantry forces in the middle of a mage rebellion.

There are a few layers of subterfuge here but I want to reiterate that he is taking a massive risk admitting this. In the middle of a conversation where he just confesses to being everything the Chantry hates he adds that he's been waiting to see if he should even stay and help. The Herald has the ear of the Former hands of the Divine and the former Templar who is the Inquisition's Commander while you can't in game for plot reasons there's no reason to believe that this couldn't go badly fast depending on Lavellan's possible bias.

Another piece of subterfuge that while he makes it sound like he had this revelation during this conversation, I actually think it happened earlier at the first Rift the Prisoner closed. He cannot leave the Inquisition until they discover what happened with his orb. He admits to willingly locking himself in a cage in one the disapproval scenes and in the other he refuses to leave even though the Inquisitor may have slaughtered an entire temple of Elvhen. Even punching him does not have him leave like it does with Dorian. He will endure abuse both physically and verbally for a chance to retrieve what is his.

Screenshots from Daitranscripts, second is from here.

Solas is a trickster and like a trickster he is pulling the rug out from underneath the Herald to see how she lands. He wants to prod and push and see if she snaps at his indiscretions. Is the Herald sympathetic or has Chantry dogma gotten them as well? And even the Dalish are suspicious of spirits. For an elven mage Herald he could be seeing if she'd be willing to sell out one of their own at a chance for survival.

While this is clearly Solavellan centric I do think it is worth looking at the non romantic options. Screenshot from Daitranscripts.

Once again by taking that risk, by putting himself in an unfavourable situation, he learns more about the Herald. He has another piece to the puzzle whether she's dismissive of his plight (and by extension of those of mages) or if she's sympathetic. He can also get a view of how she sees problems, whether she pushes them out of the way to deal with later or if she even thinks she has power to stop others.

So obviously you and I are here for the Solavellan so let's talk about it.

I adore that the romance choice is not "I'll protect you" but rather "You can trust me". Solas does not trust people, he is not a misanthrope by any means (so many of his motivations come out of his love for people) but he is constantly waiting for the knife in his back. He has been betrayed badly and I think that is a large motivation to his conversation here. He wants to know what problems could occur so he can be prepared for what he sees as the inevitable fall.

When Lavellan offers this, offers protection, he immediately tries to tear it down.

How would you stop them?

His voice drops, there's a gravely timber to it. He is demanding to know how. Not to know what her plan is but because I don't think he thought she had one. Solas probably took her offer as an empty platitude, one he could easily toss aside. Solas does not want to trust others and Lavellan offering a hand comes across as a threat regardless of her intentions. It would be worse if she was genuine and only later decided to betray him.

Now I cannot sit here and state Lavellan's meaning. There are as many answers to that question as there are Lavellans. Each one of my own Lavellan comes to a different conclusion. Whether because they may both be elven (?apostates) in an Andrastrian organization, whether Lavellan is genuinely interested in him/his friendship. It may be to return a favour she believes she owes him, he saved her life as well in the intro. Instead I'm going to shift to Solas' perspective.

He was either expecting nothing or for her to backtrack. Instead she looks at him with such determination and declares she would do whatever it would take.

This whole conversation was him trying to unsettle the Herald, to try and push them into a response so he can categorize them. Instead the rug is pulled out from under his feet. He freezes for a split second before thanking them, his voice is gentle and tender. That's all he can do. Whatever he was expecting by starting this gamble it wasn't this.

There's this gentle ebb and flow underlying this entire conversation. He pushes and she pulls, each of them taking turns leading and surprising the other. You can hear in Solas' voice when he has the conversation scripted, each word hand crafted for Lavellan to bounce her ideals from, but you can hear when she reaches beyond his expectations. When she hears underneath his stoic veneer and sees a man she genuinely wishes to know better.

I know a lot of people - myself included - see this as the moment when Solas falls for Lavellan. in part due to the fact that he is so touch and affection starved but I also think it has to do with this game he set up for her. He tested her - as if a shadowy figure in a fairy tale - and she turned it around on him. Subterfuge is his expertise and she flips everything upside-down by being so genuine with him that he cannot help but believe it.

And what i truly believe convinces Solas of this is that she isn't aware that she's doing it. She slips through his defenses for a second because of this. She had no ulterior motives in declaring that she'd keep him safe and he cannot help but for a moment trust her.

That is the foundation of their relationship. That for a few moments they can pretend to be who they really are and just love each other for that alone.

[myth-arts]

Jacks x Reader

Jacks x Reader, The Prince of Hearts x Reader, because who doesn't love him?!?! Reader is female but I'll be using You\Your\You're and such. World where Eva does not exist, ooh brainstorming I might make YOU the key, but you're more aware of what you can do... oh yeah that's good!

Warnings: 18+ probably, I might be a bit suggestive, who knows, mentions of weapons and blood and such.

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You had heard of the Prince of Hearts' church, and in your personal opinion, he was maybe second place in line for being your favorite fate, the doors in front of you beckoned you, they practically called your name, begging you to unlock them and walk through them, but at the same time, promising you that if you did walk in, your life would change, forever.

You stabbed your finger with the knife in your pocket as you pressed it to the door, ever since you were six, or maybe longer, six was just when you figured it out, you'd been able to unlock things, doors, locked drawers, possibly more, but you didn't test it out in public often, except for now.

Walking in, you heard horrible ripping that caused your toes to curl in your boots, as certain noises bothered you greatly, you turned to someone in the corner tearing their clothing to shreds.

"How pathetic." you muttered under your breath, and by the way they jolted slightly, you could tell that they heard you, whomever it was wasn't showing any other signs that they heard you though, "Didn't know the oh so special Prince of Hearts had strippers."

At your words the room felt colder, making fun of a fate probably wasn't the best idea, especially in his church.

Walking towards the alter surrounded with statues of the prince, you couldn't help but laugh at how self centered it seemed.

"Blood for a Prayer," a sign read, you sighed and cursed the overdramatic fates as you stabbed your finger.

"Dear almighty, oh-so-powerful, amazing Prince of Hearts." you began sarcastically, "I'm here because my parents are dead and my life is pathetic and so are you so you must understand my situation...." with a pause you thought for a moment.

(Yeah so I'm twisting it up just a teensy bit"

"I pulled your card first. Every goddamn time, so I thought I was destined for unrequited love and whatnot. Honestly, I'm okay with that, I've never really been in love before, so I want to stop the person who loves me, he's- he's amazing, but I don't have the heart to tell him that I don't... love him like that. I need your help, I heard of your ability to- control emotions or do whatever. I need you to make him stop loving me." Your fists curled at your side and when nothing happened, when nothing felt different or more magical, you let out a frustrated breath, "Why am I not surprised." you growled, turning around, your growl turned into a cry as you nearly ran into a stranger, you moved your fist to punch him in the jaw, he mearly caught it with a chuckle. "I don't think you want to do that to the almighty, oh-so-powerful, amazing Prince of Hearts." he said with a grin before releasing your wrist as you stumbled away.

You had made a huge mistake.

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Comment for more, I couldn't finish, but hey, cLiFfHanGer