#you don't get it. you don't get their music like i do. clearly you do not get it.

[laurellala]

Fun fact! This was the real tipping point that made Edgeworth run away after AA1, they just couldn't show it on screen because they didn't have the rights to Chappell Roan's music <3

(A spiritual successor to my "Hot to Go" joke from this post. Image description under the cut below)

[Image ID: a four page black and white comic of characters from ace attorney.

The Judge stands solemnly at his podium holding a gavel "Mr. Miles Edgeworth, you are on trial for the murder of blah blah blah..."

A cheerful Maya Fey leans over to Miles Edgeworth, who is staring straight ahead and looking very concerned

Maya: "Psst! Mr. Edgeworth! If you win your trial, can I show you Chappell Roan?

Miles: "What the hell, sure." Internally he thinks "Oh God I am going to jail"

A box saying "later" in the top corner of the next panel marks the passage of time.

The Judge smiles as he says "I declare you... Not Guilty!"

We see a full body shot of Maya dancing excitedly while Miles looks on, emotionless

Maya: YIPPEE omg you're going to LOVE this

Miles internally thinks "oh no, the consequences of my actions.

We see Miles standing in between Phoenix Wright and Maya looking apprehensive. Maya beams in excitement, while Nick puts a reassuring hand on Miles' shoulder

Miles: Alright, so what is this exactly?

Nick: She's a pop musician Maya really likes

Maya: You promised you'd let me show you, and it's legally binding because you said it in a court room!

Miles: That is not how the law works Ms. Fey

Maya: Shh just listen!

We see a panel of Miles' pensive face concentrating as he listens to "Hot to Go". He thinks to himself "hm".

Another panel zoomed in more. His pensive expression has grown more tense/confused as he listens to "Red Wine Supernova". he again thinks to himself "Hm" in a larger thought bubble.

We zoom out again to see Nick, Miles, and Maya standing together again. Miles stares forward blankly, eyebrows raised. Maya excitedly leans in.

Maya: Ok, that's her whole discography. So! What did you think?

Nick looks at him, waiting for his response

We get a panel of Miles, looking bewildered. He starts to speak "I..."

We cut again to see the three of them standing together.

Miles: I... don't think I like women?

Miles looks shocked and confused. Nick is bent over laughing, using a hand on Miles's shoulder to support himself. Maya looks outraged and appalled!

Maya: MR. EDGEWORTH! Just because you don' like her musi it doesn't give you an excuse to be sexist!

We see a panel of Miles looking stressed and confused. He leans his head on one of his hands, which messes up his hair, showing how he isn't his normal put together self.

Miles: I should rephrase that. What I mean is, Ms. Roan is clearly VERY assured in her feelings towards women. I was... unaware that anyone felt that strongly. I thought we all viewed these things with a vague sense of distaste and unease but collectively ignored it. Like how we do with climate change.

We zoom out again to see the three of them. Miles stands in the middle looking deeply uncomfortable and lost in thought, vibrating with unease. Nick and Maya exchange deeply concerned glances across from him.

With lingering unease, Miles begins to walk away.

Miles: Well, I should be going then. Goodnight.

Nick hesitantly raises a finger to point out an inaccuracy in that statement

Nick: It's four in the afternoon-

he gets interrupted by Miles who repeats firmly: I said Goodnight

Nick looks in the direction Miles walked off in.

Nick: ...He'll be ok, right?

Maya reassures him: Of cours Nick! I mean, what's the worst that can happen?

Jump cut to a closeup of Nick's hand holding Miles' letter which reads Miles Edgeworth chooses death in all caps. Then, below in smaller font, it says Also femininomenon was really good, thanks.

We see a panel of Nick glaring wordlessly at Maya as he holds the letter in his hand. Maya leans against the wall and looks away, whistling, trying to look innocent to avoid blame.

As a bonus, we also have a page that takes place a year later. Miles and Nick stand talking. Miles looks calmer now, and Nick smiles encouragingly.

Miles: In my time in Europe, I've been examining myself and my approach to law. Ultimately, the most important focus must be justice. We owe it to ourselves and to the people we serve

Nick: Wow, that's really inspiring Edgeworth. And, uh, hows the... the other thing going?

We get a zoomed in panel of Miles glaring menacingly at a suddenly nervous Nick

Jumping out again, Miles turns his back to Nick as he continues to talk

Miles: So as I was saying, justice is truly so important...

Nick nervously rubs the back of his neck wearing an awkward expression as he sweats nervously. He thinks to himself internally "Ooookay then, clearly still working through some things there"

/.End ID]

[tthoroughfare]

happiest season // ellie williams

*･゜ﾟ･* summary: the gang's all back together for christmas! no matter how hectic life gets, you always make time for your end of year outing.

*･゜ﾟ･* pairing: modern!ellie x reader ft. jesse and dina

*･゜ﾟ･* content: sfw. ellie fucking sucks at ice skating

*･゜ﾟ･* length: 2.1k

this fic is a part two to this blurb! i loved writing the dynamic so much i had to continue it... there will be more coming trust. *dutch voice* i have a plan. also i don't even like xmas that much so i have no idea where this came from. just felt right. i hope you all enjoy, and have an amazing festive period with your loved ones <3

gift bag in hand, you wander into the restaurant. there’s cheesy christmas music drifting through the speakers, a tree in the corner, lights everywhere; you immediately spot jesse and dina, the latter waving at you as soon as you enter.

“hey!” she greets when you walk up, standing to put her arms around you. “how are you?”

“good, good,” you reply, one-handedly returning her embrace before leaning down to give jesse a quick hug. “you?”

“good. i mean, life is fucking killing me in general, but y’know.” she sits back down, watching as you place your belongings to the side and shuffle your chair in. “where’s ellie?”

you shrug. “no idea, i haven’t talked to her today. probably isn’t even on her way yet.”

“most likely,” jesse adds, smirking.

“has anyone texted her?” you ask, looking between the two of them.

the couple share a glance, wordlessly confirming before looking back at you.

“uh… no,” jesse states.

“dude.”

you pull your phone out, knowing all too well what ellie’s like. even if she knows she has to be somewhere, she’ll stay up way too late; and if no-one gets in touch with her in the morning, she won’t be up and ready for it.

selecting her contact and calling her, you press your phone to your ear. she surprisingly answers after two rings, clearly walking down the street, wind whipping past the microphone.

“hello?”

“just checking you’re awake.”

“uh, okay, sorry, i’m literally… like, ‘round the corner.”

“hurry up, ‘cause the manager says if all members of the party aren’t here in five minutes we’re getting kicked out,” you deadpan, casting a smirk at your friends.

“very funny.”

you automatically turn your head when you hear the door open, both through your phone and behind you. ellie bustles through it, phone between her ear and shoulder, waving with her free hand before ending the call. she heads over to the table, taking the empty seat beside you. dina looks on, giving her an exaggerated offended stare.

“uh, the fuck, do i not get a hug?”

ellie rolls her eyes with a small smile, gesturing her over. “come here.”

dina happily totters over, leaning over ellie’s chair and wrapping her arms around her shoulders from behind. ellie shifts her hand, giving her forearm a few pats before she pulls away.

“happy?”

“yup.” dina sits back down, budging her chair in before clapping her hands together lightly. “okay. gifts before or after food?”

ellie scoffs lightly at her impatience. “i literally just got here.”

“you want everyone to say before, 'cause you want yours now,” jesse comments fondly, leaning an elbow on the table.

“… correct. but i really don’t mind, whatever you guys wanna do.”

“i don’t mind. we can do it now,” you add.

dina’s eyes flit between each of you mischievously. “can we do it now?”

“let’s do it now,” you confirm with a chuckle, leaning forward and pointing your hand at dina. “you first — your idea.”

she grins, reaching to pick up her gift bag and holding it out to ellie. “i got you.”

ellie takes it from her, smirking lightly as she takes out the tissue paper on top. her expression changes when she sees the first item, eyebrows scrunching and letting out a drawn-out scoff. “bro, what the fuck?”

dina laughs knowingly.

“what is it?” jesse questions, chuckling lightly. she just holds it up in reply, pivoting it back and forth so you can all see, avoiding eye contact with you. it’s a hot pink bullet vibrator.

“y’know… ‘cause you’re gay and stuff,” dina jovially explains, holding her hands up in gesture. ellie just stares at her, blinking slowly and holding back a laugh. “ladies’ll love it.”

“what ladies?” jesse remarks quietly, earning himself a light-hearted tap from ellie’s shoe under the table.

“anyway…” ellie gingerly sets the box down on the table, digging back through the bag. “thank you for that, dina.”

the rest of the gifts are sweet; she’d gotten her a dinosaur mug, her favorite chips, and a band tee. she holds them up in turn for you all to look at, placing everything back in when she’s done and thanking dina.

dina nods in acknowledgement, smiling warmly. you all look at ellie expectantly, who settles into her chair holding a clueless expression on her face.

“it’s your turn,” jesse reminds her after a moment of silence.

“oh, shit, yeah.” she sits back up, picking up her gift bag from the floor and passing it over to you, dragging the action out in amplified suspense. you grin, taking it from her gently. “thank you.”

dipping your hand in, you take out the first item. it’s your favorite scent of candle, one you always had on in your room. you’d never mentioned anything about it to her, but ellie was like that. always quietly noticing.

there’s another, bigger item in there, too. you pull it out the wrong way, turning it around to get a look; it’s a framed painting of your favorite musician.

“oh my god, this is awesome!” you say, looking at ellie. “where did you get this?”

“uh, i didn’t…” she trails off softly, looking down at her hands for a moment. “i made it.”

your eyebrows raise, smile widening. “no fucking way. you painted this?”

there’s a small, coy smile on her face as she nods. “… you like it?”

“you serious? i love it, this is like the coolest thing ever.” you look back at the painting, studying the fine details; it looks like it took her a good while. “thank you so much.”

“wait, i wanna see!” dina chimes in, reaching over the table for it.

jesse leans in as you pass it over, peering over her shoulder. “woah… this is good, ellie. why the hell weren’t you my secret santa?”

ellie tuts playfully, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. “you’d have gotten coal.”

the rest of the gift exchange goes ahead, temporarily halted by the waiter coming to take your orders. you got dina; dina got jesse. 

the secret santa was a silly tradition you’d upheld over the years. one that became more precious when you left high school, and you and ellie got into a different college as the other two. you still saw each other wherever possible, and had a group chat that was active daily; still, it was hard being away from your closest childhood friends. you found yourself missing just being able to text dina to come pick you up, getting drive-thru and talking shit in her car until the early hours.

every year when you were all home for christmas, you made a point of meeting up. while normally all busy with your own plans, no matter what, you’d always clear your schedule for at least one day.

after the meal, dina announces that she’s booked ice skating — to which ellie lets out a groan.

“why?” she complains, drawing the word out. “you know i’m horrible at it.”

“yeah, why do you think i made the reservation?” dina counters teasingly. ellie just gives her a look.

when you get down there, in the middle of lacing up your skates, ellie flops down next to you to put hers on and lets out a dramatic sigh.

you cast her a sideways glance, smirking fondly. “oh, shut up, it’ll be fun.”

“you don’t understand, i fucking suck.”

“get a penguin,” you respond, chuckling as you finish up, leaning back to wait for her.

she lets out a laugh. “no… embarrassing.”

“plenty of people have them.” you gesture out to the rink.

“yeah, they’re all ten and under.”

rolling your eyes, you train your gaze on dina already out there. she whizzes past fairly gracefully, dragging jesse along. “hold dina’s hand, she’s pretty good.”

“no, she goes too fast. i’d end up eating shit.”

“i think that’s gonna happen either way.”

she sighs lightly, pulling a dejected face as she finishes tying her laces. going to stand, you offer a hand to haul her up, keeping hold of it as you both dodder over to the edge of the rink.

you get on first, a little unsteady; you’re passable at skating, at best. ellie hesitantly places a first foot onto the ice, free hand clinging onto the side as she ungracefully enters fully. one of the skates almost goes out from under her and catapults her flying into the barrier; it nearly takes you out, too, sending you off balance.

failing to hold back from laughing at her, you give her hand a squeeze. “ellie, oh my god.”

“i fuckin’ told you!”

“look, you’ll be fine, just hold onto the side and i’ll, like… drag you.”

“real elegant.”

you raise an eyebrow, jutting your neck slightly forward in gesture. “rather fend for yourself?”

she pauses, sheepishly looking to the left, then back at you. “… no.”

“come on, then.”

it goes about how you expected, moving along at a snail’s pace, ellie practically white-knuckling the barrier. by the time you’ve gotten to the other side of the rink, dina and jesse have passed you twice; on the first, teasingly cackling at you, on the second, calling out, ‘losers’.

you pat ellie’s arm in jest, giggling at the exclamation. “don’t listen to them, they’re mean.”

not long after, you actually come up behind two people slower than you; a young boy and a grandma, trailing around the edge of the rink hand-in-hand. you deal with it for a few minutes, but the thought of being stuck behind them the whole time proves too irritating.

“we’re gonna pass these people,” you mutter to ellie, leaning in. “you’re gonna have to let go, and—“

she cuts you off, shaking her head vehemently. “no, no, no. dude, i can’t.”

“you gotta. literally just let go for like, two seconds, hold onto me while we go around. it’s chill.”

you were wrong — it was not, in fact, chill. essentially the second ellie lets go of the barrier, she panics and wobbles. that, in turn, makes her panic even more, and she completely loses her footing. calling out your name in comical distress, she goes down in a heap, automatically grasping onto the back of your jacket and bringing you down with her.

you crack up after the shock of hitting frigid, wet ice wears off. it seeps through your sleeves and jeans, goosebumps forming. “ellie, what the fuck?”

“i’m sorry,” she laughs along, sitting up and flicking the moisture off of her hands. “i’m so sorry.”

you manage to get over to the side and hoist yourself up. whilst you’re in the process of attempting to get ellie on her feet without being yanked back down, jesse and dina fly past again, cheering dramatically at the sight.

ellie turns to flip them off; the motion destabilizes her, and she topples and lands flat on her ass all over again.

later, when you’ve all hugged and parted ways, you’re in your childhood bedroom winding down when you receive a series of texts from her.

you head over to the corner of your room where you’d dropped your stuff on entry, taking your gifts out of the bag and rechecking. camouflaged against the interior, flat against the bottom, there’s a small envelope addressed to you.

opening it and taking out the folded paper, you can’t hold back from smiling. it’s a letter, decorated with silly stickers.

i just wanted to write you a letter to let you know how much i appreciate you :) i am very lucky to have you in my life and i always look forward to spending time with you even if we’re just hanging out in each other’s rooms and rotting. 

i kinda struggle with getting to know people (woah shock) and when i first moved i was so fucking worried i was gonna literally have no friends LOL. but right from the beginning you, jesse and dina made it so easy. don’t tell them this because i'll never hear the end of it, but it was mainly you. you were always going out of your way to talk to me and include me and stuff, and it meant a lot. and at risk of sounding super weird as soon as i saw you, i knew you were going to be an important person to me. 

back in school when we were applying to college, honestly i was scared that you were going to end up going somewhere different to me. like to the point i wouldn’t be able to sleep some nights because i’d just be up thinking about it. anyway, i’m so glad it all worked out. wouldn’t wanna do this shit with anyone else <3

love you always

ellie

heading back over to your bed to grab your phone, you text her again, letter sitting at the side of you.

[spanktony]

“LEFTOVERS” - lee doona.

summary: lee doona was so full of herself and you hated it. until, you understood.

words: 4.2k +

warnings: 18+ g!p reader, p in v, oral (d receiving), doona’s kinda an ass but not really because she’s wifey, and i think that’s all.

notes: once request open back up more doona requests guys 🙏🙏🙏🙏 she’s so underrated

navigation. request.

you had never met someone so full of themselves; well, that was up until the moment you had your first interaction with doona. you had just finished lacing up your sneakers, your compression shirt hugging your torso and your workout pants snug and comfortable.

the day was still cool, perfect for a run, and you were looking forward to clearing your head after a long day of work.

being a server was no joke.

you popped your headphones into your ears, selecting your playlist before closing and locking the main entrance door behind you, completely oblivious to the pair of eyes that had been watching you from across the courtyard.

it was a beautiful evening, and you smiled as you started singing, off-key but nonetheless singing, while you warmed up and stretched before your run. you didn't notice the figure sitting nearby until you were almost past them.

doona.

she was sitting on the brick fence that surrounded an old tree, one leg crossed over the other, and a cigarette dangling from her lips. the smoke swirled lazily around her, and she exhaled slowly, watching you with a bored, detached look as you bopped your head to the music in your headphones.

you were in your own little world, head down, and pounding music that drowned out everything except for your own thoughts.

but then, just as you were getting into a good groove, doona stood up abruptly, taking a drag from her cigarette.

without missing a beat, she stepped directly into your path, her body blocking your way.

you came to a halt, pulling your headphones down to your neck.

"excuse me," you said, raising an eyebrow, already feeling the irritation start to build. you hadn't been expecting anyone to stand in your way, let alone her.

doona regarded you coolly, the smoke curling from her lips as she blew out a cloud and gave you a pointed look. "what's your deal?"

you blinked, confused, your jaw slightly dropping. "what?"

doona took another slow drag from her cigarette, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied you. the calm, almost calculating look on her face made you feel even more confused.

"you've been staring at me for weeks," she said, her voice laced with something you couldn't quite place. was it annoyance? amusement? "every time you run by, you look up at my apartment. i see you. you're watching me."

you blinked again, the irritation from before quickly turning into bewilderment. "what? i'm not—what are you talking about?"

doona's expression didn't soften. she flicked the ash off her cigarette, still maintaining that intense gaze. "don't act like you haven't noticed me. you've been eyeing me from across the courtyard every day, practically tracking my every move. and now you're singing my songs like some kind of weird obsession. what's your deal, stalker?"

a small laugh escaped you, almost out of reflex. "are you serious? i've just been doing my thing—i'm not stalking anyone."

doona raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. for a moment, there was a pause between you two, the sound of your heartbeat in your ears as your confusion started to shift into something else.

"yeah, right." she took another drag, blowing the smoke into your face, causing you to close your eyes and cough slightly. your jaw tightened at the action, but you still tried to keep your cool. the last thing you wanted was to give her any kind of satisfaction.

doona tilted her head to the side; the two of you studied each other intently, the tension thickening between you as the seconds dragged on. her gaze was sharp, predatory even, and her lips twitched into a small smirk.

you, on the other hand, were trying your hardest not to show how irritated you were. it wasn't like you cared that she thought you were some sort of stalker. in fact, you were far more interested in getting away from this confrontation and finishing your run.

but as you stared back at her, you couldn't help but feel... curious. who was this woman? why was she so damn confident and dismissive?

finally, you exhaled sharply, pulling your shoulders back when it finally hit you. she was lee doona, from dream sweet!

your confusion morphed into a mix of surprise and disinterest. you weren't particularly impressed by celebrity status, and honestly, you couldn't care less who she was. all you cared about was getting back to your routine and putting as much distance between you and this strange encounter as possible.

you stared at her for a beat longer, trying to mask the faint surprise flickering across your face. doona's eyes held an intense gaze, scanning you almost like a puzzle to be solved.

but when you didn't immediately react the way she expected, her expression faltered for a fraction of a second, and she flicked the cigarette again, sending more ash into the wind.

"so, what?" you said, cutting through the silence with a firm tone, finally over the awkwardness. "you're accusing me of stalking you because i run by and look up at the apartments? that's a stretch."

doona narrowed her eyes, seemingly a bit put off by your nonchalant attitude. she opened her mouth, but something in your demeanor stopped her. maybe it was the fact that you weren't fawning over her or hanging on her every word like people usually did.

maybe it was the confusion you still had about her unexpected behavior. she seemed a little unsure of herself for the first time in the conversation.

her voice, when it came out, was slightly less accusatory, but no less annoyed. "it's not just about running by, alright? it's the way you look at me. like you're always waiting for something."

you paused, taking a moment to process her words. you tried to read her, but she had the same expression as before, guarded and defensive. her posture was relaxed, but her eyes were sharp.

was she really this caught up in a casual interaction with someone she thought was obsessed with her?

"i'm not 'waiting' for anything," you replied before brushing past her, putting your headphones back in, and jogging out of the courtyard towards the street.

over the next week, doona's presence became hard to ignore. she had a way of appearing at just the right moment—whether it was passing you in the hallway or casually lounging on her balcony as you stepped out for air.

her presence was like a constant shadow, always hovering just out of reach but never quite out of mind. you couldn't deny that her mysterious aura intrigued you, but you weren't about to give her the satisfaction of knowing that.

each time you crossed paths, whether she was perched on the balcony with a cigarette or standing in the doorway as you passed by, she had that same intense, unreadable gaze. it was like she was trying to figure you out, but at the same time, she never seemed to want to make the first move.

you, however, had other things on your mind—your routine, your runs, the work that needed to get done. doona wasn't a part of that, no matter how much she seemed to want to be. you kept your head down, trying to block out the distraction that was her presence.

but one day, when you returned home after work, still dressed in dress pants and a black button-up shirt, you saw doona sitting outside.

you hesitated for a second, unsure if she'd approach or if you should just keep walking. but before you could make up your mind, she called out to you.

"hey."

you stopped, caught off guard by the lack of confrontation this time. she wasn't blocking your path or looking at you like you were some strange specimen. she was just... there. waiting.

"are you going to keep ignoring me, or do you actually want to talk?" her tone wasn't harsh this time, just curious.

for a moment, you felt a flash of irritation. who did she think she was, acting like she had the right to dictate when you should talk to her? you had enough of these mind games. you glanced over at her, seeing her kicking her feet outwards like a child.

she wasn't smoking this time, and she wasn't giving you that intimidating, piercing stare either. instead, her eyes were warm, and there was a small, inviting smile on her face.

something in your stomach twisted slightly, but you managed to hold yourself together. you stepped forward, crossing your arms, but your stance was more relaxed now, less defensive than before. "what's this about, doona?"

she leaned back against the fence, leaning back on her arms and tilting her head slightly. "i don't know. maybe i was wrong about you."

"wrong about me?" you repeated, confused. "what do you mean?"

doona let out a sigh, her gaze flicking down to the ground before meeting yours again. "i misjudged you. thought you were... obsessed or something."

a soft chuckle escaped you, and you raised an eyebrow, still unsure if you were understanding correctly. "and now?"

her stomach growled audibly before she could answer; doona's eyes flicked down, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she ran a hand through her hair, clearly embarrassed.

you couldn't help but chuckle at her. "lucky for you, i've got leftovers from work," you said, tapping the backpack you had slung over your shoulder, which contained a portion of the evening's meals from your restaurant job.

"leftovers?" doona raised an eyebrow. "what, you think i look like i'm starving?"

"maybe not starving," you said, "but it's not like you're going to turn down free food." you held out the bag, shaking it slightly, almost teasing her.

she eyed it for a moment, then pushed herself off the fence, moving toward you with a slow, deliberate step. "you're lucky you're offering," she muttered, taking the bag from you with a slight smirk. "i wasn't going to beg for your charity."

"right," you said, shaking your head. "just take it, doona."

for a second, she seemed to hesitate, as if weighing whether to offer a witty remark, but instead she just muttered a quick thanks, her fingers brushing yours as she took the bag.

the next evening, when you returned from work again, there she was, sitting by the same spot, her eyes trained on her feet. she didn't seem to notice your approach until your foot scraped against the concrete.

this time, she didn't wait for you to say anything. the moment she saw you, she stood up and walked toward you, eyes gleaming.

"got any leftovers today?" she asked, cutting straight to the point.

you were taken aback for a moment. had she really come just for food? "still hungry, huh?" you asked, grinning despite yourself.

"very," she replied, with that same smirk you were starting to recognize all too well.

you shrugged, reaching for your backpack and pulling out another container. "here, take it."

days passed, and each night when you came home, doona was there, waiting for more of your leftovers. her presence had become a routine, like a weird, unspoken agreement between the two of you. you'd offer the food, she'd take it with little fanfare, and sometimes, if you were lucky, she'd stay for a little conversation.

one evening, your manager practically forced you to stay late, almost two hours after your shift had ended. when you finally arrived home, exhausted and hungry, doona wasn't waiting for you. it was late, so you don't know why you would expect her to be there.

but as you made your way up the stairs and towards your apartment, you noticed something odd. a faint sound—footsteps. someone moving quickly, almost purposefully. you paused, glancing around.

there she was.

doona stood at the foot of your building, her eyes scanning the space like she was looking for something—or someone. her gaze locked onto you the moment you stepped into view, and for the briefest of moments, there was something almost sheepish in her expression.

you stopped in your tracks, the exhaustion from your late shift quickly replaced by a flicker of amusement. "i didn't think you'd be waiting tonight," you said, adjusting the strap of your backpack, almost expecting her to snap back with some witty retort.

she didn't. instead, she bit her lip, her eyes darting around as if unsure of herself. "i thought you might have forgotten," she said with a small shrug.

you blinked, the words catching you off guard. "forgot?"

"yeah." she looked down at her feet for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "the food. i've... been getting used to it."

a weird, inexplicable tug in your chest made you pause.

"i haven't forgotten," you replied, your tone a little lighter. "i just got stuck at work longer than usual. but i brought something for you."

you opened your bag; instead, it wasn't the usual takeout you usually brought her. instead, you pulled out a small cake—chocolate with rich frosting and a simple "happy birthday" written on top in delicate icing.

doona blinked in surprise, her eyes widening a little. "what... is this?"

"it's your birthday, isn't it?" you asked with a small, teasing smile. "i figured you'd appreciate something sweet, instead of leftovers for once."

she stared at the cake for a long moment, not even noticing you turning away and walking upstairs toward your bedroom, the door closing behind you with a soft click.

doona lingered by the doorway, still staring at the cake. something about the gesture touched her, and her mind raced with questions, but none of them would formulate into coherent words.

after a long, thoughtful pause, she made her way up the stairs with the cake in her hand. when she knocked on your door, you opened it, already anticipating her arrival. you weren't surprised to see her standing there, her expression unreadable as she walked past you, heading straight for your bed and setting the cake down on your desk.

you raised an eyebrow as she made herself at home, flopping down on your bed without a care in the world. it was a little jarring, considering how much she had thrown off the idea of getting close to you just a few weeks ago. but there she was, casually reclining on your bed, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

you stood by the door, not quite sure what to say. "you just walked in without even asking?"

she shrugged, her eyes not leaving yours. "it's not like you're going to stop me."

"what makes you so sure?"

"you wouldn't have let me in otherwise."

that was a fair point. you sighed, moving to unbutton your work shirt, but instead of heading to your closet, you stayed near the door, keeping a safe distance from her. "what do you want?" you asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

"i just wanted to see if you missed me," she answered, her voice unexpectedly soft, though laced with that playful challenge. her gaze held yours, and for a second, you could have sworn there was a hint of affection in her expression.

you swallowed, breaking the gaze and looking away. you didn't want her to catch the flush creeping across your cheeks.

doona smirked, watching the way your fingers fumbled with the buttons on your shirt, the way you tried so hard not to show any sign of vulnerability. you chuckled, though there was a hint of nervousness in your laugh.

"miss you?" you took a few steps further into the room but kept your distance, not wanting to make the moment feel too awkward. "you've been showing up for leftovers, and now you're asking if i miss you?"

doona raised an eyebrow, which dropped when she let out a sigh, glancing around your room. it was her first time ever being up here. "you looked for me tonight," she muttered. "i didn't think you cared if i was around or not."

you paused, the weight of her words hanging in the air. for a moment, you felt exposed, like she had somehow cracked through the barriers you'd carefully put up around your thoughts and emotions. you'd been so intent on brushing her off, pretending that her presence didn't matter, that you hadn't realized how much she'd started to occupy your mind.

"i didn't look for you," you said quickly, though you weren't entirely sure if you believed it yourself. "i just—" you rubbed the back of your neck, averting your eyes, not wanting to meet hers. you took a deep breath, forgetting about taking off your work clothes and instead focused on trying to maintain your composure.

doona's gaze softened slightly as she watched your struggle to keep your cool. she could tell you were trying to downplay the shift in your emotions, but it wasn't working. there was a crack in your facade, and she was starting to notice it.

"right," she said, her voice dropping into something softer, more teasing than before.

you shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of your neck again as your eyes flicked to the cake you had given her earlier. for some reason, the sweetness of the gesture now felt like it was hanging over both of you, making everything feel more real, more vulnerable. you had never meant for this to become more than just a simple exchange. leftovers. a casual moment. yet here she was, in your room, in your personal space, making things feel... complicated.

"i didn't expect you to be here," you muttered, trying to sound indifferent but failing. "i didn't think you'd care if i gave you a cake or not."

doona let out a soft, almost wistful laugh. "you really are bad at this, aren't you?"

the way she said it caught you off guard. there was something affectionate in her tone, something beyond just teasing. you had never thought she would soften up like this, not after all the weird tension that had built up between you two. but there it was.

you swallowed, still not quite sure how to handle the shift in the air. it was no longer about leftovers, no longer about the small interactions. she was making you confront something you hadn't expected to feel—maybe even something you hadn't wanted to feel.

"doona..." you started, but she cut you off before you could finish.

"stop overthinking it," she said with a small, half-smile. "i'm not here to make you uncomfortable. not really. i just... want to see how far you'll go."

"go where?" you asked, still confused but unable to stop the questions from rising in your chest. "what do you want from me?"

she sat up from your bed, the air between you two thickening with every word. "i just want to know if you're more than the girl who gives me leftovers. are you?"

her gaze was intense now, and her words hung in the air, a challenge and an invitation all at once. you didn't have an answer, and you didn't know what she was hoping for. you just knew that whatever this was—whatever you two were turning into—it was no longer as simple as it had been when she first asked for leftovers.

she stood up from your bed, her hands falling to the buttons of your shirt, her eyes never leaving yours. you felt the soft cotton of your shirt, now being unbuttoned by her, slipping off your shoulders as she leaned in closer.

her fingers traced along the lines of your collarbones, slowly, gently, a small, amused smile playing on her lips. it was such a gentle touch, such a light caress, yet you couldn't help the way your breath caught in your throat, the way your heart skipped a beat.

she tilted her head slightly, her smile growing as she watched you, the intensity of her gaze making it clear that she was enjoying this. enjoying seeing you get flustered, enjoying seeing you react to her touch.

and then, her hand moved to your hip, and she pulled you closer, pressing her lips against yours.

you could feel your pulse quicken as the kiss deepened, her fingers digging into your hip, her other hand reaching up and tangling in your hair, tugging slightly. as she pulled you closer, you could feel her body pressing against yours, her breath mingling with yours, your mind going blank as her tongue swiped over your lips, tasting, teasing.

you hadn't expected this—hell, you didn't even know if you were ready for it. but doona wasn't giving you a chance to overthink. she was just there, and all you could do was follow her lead.

when the kiss broke, you found yourself looking into her eyes. they were dark and full of want and something else, too. you swallowed, feeling your stomach twist with a mixture of nerves and anticipation.

doona leaned in again; this time you didn't hesitate, kissing back with the same intensity and hunger she was pouring into you, her lips soft and insistent against yours, while her arms dangled around your neck.

the kiss deepened again, your hands fell to her waist, and doona began walking backwards; you followed her like a puppy on a leash, falling on top of her as her back hit your bed. her eyes were half-closed, but they were still looking at you. she ran her hands up and down your sides, caressing you. her touch was light, but you felt it go right through you. doona smiled up at you, her hands going to the hem of your shirt and lifting it up, her fingers grazing your skin as she pulled the material up over your head.

her hands fell to your core, fingers trailing against your stomach. her touch was making you shiver, sending waves of pleasure through you.

you bit your lip and closed your eyes, focusing on her touch, looking down to see a singular finger moving along the top of your pants, tracing the outline of your belt, teasing. she was taking her time, exploring your body, watching and listening to your reactions. it was making you painfully hard, and you wanted nothing more than to have her fingers wrap around you.

finally, doona moved her hands back up and unbuckled your belt, sliding it out of the loops and tossing it aside. then, she popped the button on your pants and lowered the zipper, sliding your jeans down, exposing your black boxers.

she was gazing at you, her pupils blown wide with lust. doona licked her lips. she was waiting for you to say something. but all you could do was nod and kiss her.

her tongue slipped into your mouth, and you moaned into her mouth, the sound muffled by her lips. doona's hand was in the front of your boxers, rubbing your cock through the material, feeling how hard you were. your hands gripped the sheet beneath you, and you took in a sharp breath.

you let out a grunt as her hand moved under the waistband of your boxers, wrapping around your shaft, squeezing and stroking. "wait," you said, breaking the kiss. you pulled back a little and looked at her. "let me help you."

she bit her lip, nodding, letting go of your cock. you sat down on the bed, kicking your pants away, and watched as she slid off her own pants, her hips raising from the bed before lowering again.

doona had you in a spell, your eyes glued to her every movement; you wondered if she was aware of the effect she had on you. she was wearing a pair of black lace panties, which contrasted beautifully with her creamy skin. your gaze lingered on her breasts, which were covered by a coordinating bra.

she lay back down, her hair fanning out on the pillow. you couldn't stop staring.

"see something you like?" she teased.

you nodded, crawling back on top of her, afraid that any words that left your mouth would make her change her mind.

instead, you kissed her again, one hand cupping her cheek, the other sliding behind her back, deftly unclasping her bra. you felt her body shiver as you slid the straps off her shoulders, and the garment fell away, exposing her breasts.

"you're so beautiful," you murmured. she smiled, pulling you closer.

you lowered your head and began kissing her neck, working your way down to her breasts, licking and sucking on her nipples, making them harden under your touch. the soft sounds of her moans only encouraged you further, along with the grip she had on your shoulders, pulling you closer to her.

her hands tangled in your hair as she whispered, "don't stop."

you moved lower, kissing her stomach and then her thighs. anywhere your lips touched, she shivered with pleasure.

your fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties, pulling them off her legs. you were staring at her now, more than ever, taking in her naked form, her body flushed and warm, her chest rising and falling as she breathed heavily, her eyes locked onto yours.

you moved forward, settling between her legs, spreading them open, your hands gripping her hips. "please," she whimpered. "i need you."

you pressed your face against her thigh, kissing it softly, your hands gripping her thighs firmly as you trailed kisses up towards her core. she arched her back, silently begging for more, her fingers tangling in your hair as she guided you closer to where she needed you most.

"stop being an ass," she whispered in frustration in her voice. "just give me what i want." you chuckled softly, then moved higher, your tongue finding her wet folds. her breath hitched, and her hand tightened in your hair, a low moan escaping her lips as you gave her exactly what she desired.

you lapped at her cunt, your tongue moving up and down her slit, tasting her. she was writhing beneath you, her back arching off the bed, her pulling at your hair so much it was starting to hurt. her moans grew louder, more desperate, "oh, god..." she moaned, her voice thick with arousal. "that feels so good."

you continued to lick her, your tongue sliding up and down her slit, teasing her, before you focused on her clit, flicking it with the tip of your tongue. she was panting now, her legs trying their hardest to trap your head between them as she bucked against your mouth.

"fuck... oh, fuck..." she was breathing hard, her moans increasing, her thighs squeezing tighter around your head. you knew she was about to cum, and you didn't want to disappoint her, so you quickened your pace, swirling your tongue around her clit before sucking on it gently. she let out a loud gasp, her legs tightening around your head, her back arching as she came hard.

her whole body shook with the force of her orgasm, her nails digging into the sheets beneath her as she rode out her pleasure. after a moment, her grip on you loosened, and she let out a long, content sigh.

you looked up at her, a smile on your lips, and she grinned back at you. "see," she said breathlessly. "i knew you could be a good girl." you wanted to roll your eyes and disregard the pet name, but your body's response was instantaneous, and you felt yourself grow twitch as the words escaped her lips.

you climbed up her body and kissed her, allowing her to taste herself on your lips. "do you want more?" you whispered against her lips, and she nodded. "i want you inside me."

you moved to the edge of the bed, sitting down as you pulled off your boxers, revealing your cock, fully erect, glistening with precum. the dark-haired girl smiled seductively as she crawled towards you, straddling your lap and guiding you inside her with a moan of pleasure.

the sensation of being enveloped by her warmth was overwhelming, and you both moaned in unison when doona's hip began moving achingly slow. she was trying to get a reaction out of you, and you were so lost in the moment that you could barely form a coherent thought.

your eyes left the sight of your member buried deep inside her to meet her intense gaze, your mouth agape and your hands gripping her hips tightly. "pretty," she muttered, her voice husky, kissing the outline of your jaw before trailing down your neck.

your mouth took in her breast, savoring the taste of her skin as she arched into your touch, a soft gasp escaping her lips. she started riding you faster, her hips rolling in a rhythm that was better than any song she had ever sung.

"doona," you managed to gasp out, your hands gripped her waist tightly, your mouth falling against her shoulder, trying to contain yourself.

you didn't know what the two of you were going to be after this, if she would continue playing that stupid game she loved so much, if you could just stay as friends, or if you could somehow get closer, but for now, none of that mattered. all that mattered was her and her soft body.

her hands dug into your hair, and you buried your face in her neck, breathing in her scent. her pussy felt so tight and wet, and you groaned against her neck, your teeth biting at her skin. she started moving faster, and you knew she was close. a loud whine left her throat, and her fingers tightened in your hair, yanking you back to look at her.

"y/n," she whined. "fuck, please. are you close?"

you nodded.

"fuck, baby. you feel so good. come with me, y/n. please." you reached down and circled her clit with your thumb, and her mouth dropped open, her head thrown back as her entire body tensed, her pussy tightening around your dick, pulling you over the edge with her. you groaned, pressing your face into her neck as your cum filled her.

she collapsed on top of you, and the two of you caught your breath.

[4linos]

lost and found on christmas eve.

lee felix x gn!reader

synopsis: as you wait for felix in the christmas market, you receive a shocking call from the hospital telling you that felix has been hurt.

wc: 999

part 3/8 holiday series. 🎄

The chilly air bites at your skin as you stand beneath the glittering lights of the Christmas market, staring nervously at your phone for the umpteenth time. The joyful mood around you, laughter, the scent of gingerbread, the calm music playing feels harsh in comparison to the growing tension in your chest. Felix was supposed to meet you an hour ago, and despite your attempts to be patient, the minutes felt like they went on forever. You try to call. 

No response.

You remember his earlier message, in which he told you he was running late due to traffic and the icy ground, but his explanations aren't helping your growing worries. Felix isn't normally this late, and the longer he takes, the worse the gnawing feeling gets. Something's not right.

Then your phone rings. An unknown number appears on the screen, and your stomach sinks. You almost don't want to respond, a part of you wants to pretend everything is okay that he has only been caught up somewhere else. But you know. You know. With shaky fingertips, you swipe the screen to respond.

"Hello?"

There’s a brief pause before a deep, unfamiliar voice cuts through the line. “Is this Y/N?” 

“Yes, yes it is. Who’s this?” Your voice is already tight with anxiety.

“Hello, this is St. Mary’s Hospital. We’ve had a patient brought in, Felix Lee. He asked if we could call you to let you know he's here. He slipped on some ice while walking. He’s conscious, but he’s sustained some serious bruising and we’re taking precautions. You should come down right away.”

You freeze. Everything around you seems to stop. 

Felix. Hospital. Ice. 

Words blur together, and you can feel the ground beneath you shift as your heart races. Every possible bad scenario comes to mind, broken bones, concussions, internal problems, anything. You can't breathe or think clearly. All you can think about is that he's injured, and you need to get to him right away.

Without thinking, you hang up. You don't even remember what you said to the person on the phone, but the next thing you know, you're in a cab, your pulse pounding in your chest as the world outside whirls by in a swirl of lights and snowflakes.

As you run through the hospital doors, you can't help but imagine the worst-case scenario.

What if it's worse than they said?

Everything feels distant, as if the air around you has thickened with dread. The receptionist's words are a blur, and you don't even register her directions until you're standing before Felix's room, the door slightly open.

You hesitate. You take a deep breath and shakily push the door open.

The sight that greets you is nearly overwhelming. Felix is lying in a hospital bed, a sharp contrast to the upbeat, playful man you know. His face is pale, except for the heavy bruises that cover his cheek and jaw. His left arm is in a sling, and an IV is in his hand. His bright, sparkling eyes are open, but there’s a softness to them now, something fragile that you’ve never seen before.

And then he smiles. 

It's weak and apologetic, but it's there just for you. You freeze as fear floods your system once more, but this time it's a different type of panic. It is not simply fear. It's a state of frustration. It is a state of confusion.

He attempts to sit up, wincing at the effort. "Hey, I'm okay," he says, his voice hoarse but comforting. "I know I'm a mess, but it's not as awful as it looks. "I didn't want to scare you."

You can't talk. You can't think. All you can do is look at him, your heart thumping violently in your chest as the feelings you've been holding back spill forth. The concern. The frustration. The relief. The fear.

"Felix," you murmur, your voice cracking as the tears finally fall. "You scared me so bad. I did not know... I wasn't sure if you'd be okay, and I—" The words stick in your throat, and you struggle to keep your balance. "I thought... I thought I was going to lose you."

Felix's gaze softens immediately, as guilt washed over him. He attempts to raise his good hand toward you, his fingers softly caressing the side of your face, almost as if to apologize for making you feel this way.

"I'm so sorry," he says softly, his voice full of remorse. "I didn't mean to. I just don't know. I slipped. I was being careless. I never wanted you to go through that."

His words tumble out, each tinged with regret, but your emotions shift once again. The frustration, the irritation, begins to subside. It's still there, a slight edge, but what you're feeling right now is just... love. Love and relief. Felix is here, and he will be okay.

You felt his words wrap around your heart like a balm, and despite the tears streaming down your cheeks, a little smile tugged on your lips. "You're lucky you're so cute," you said, your voice full with emotion. Felix grinned gently then winced as his ankle throbbed. 

He drew you in, his arms cautiously wrapping around you, conscious of his injuries. You buried your face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent and the warmth of his embrace, which anchored you. "I'm so sorry," he murmured softly into your hair. "I promise this won't happen again."

"I know," you said gently, your heart remaining heavy but beginning to ease. "Do not do anything like this again. Please." Felix lightly kissed the top of your head, bringing you closer to him. "I will never." I'll be here. Always." You stayed like that for a long time, just holding each other and allowing the stillness to settle about you. The frustration had vanished leaving only a strong sense of love and relief between you two. He was with you, so everything else could wait.

//

asks are always open if you have a question, concern or request!

[taglist: @lixies-favorite-cookie..]

[writteninthebinds]

Teach Me

A Jayvik fic - part two

Word-count: 2256

Summary: Jayce teaches Viktor how to dance. Things get a little heated.

Warnings: This is pretty tame. A little nsfw dialogue at the end that alludes to part three.

Notes: I really love this. This is technically part two but you can read it on its own. You can find and read part one on my page. I didn’t put near the same amount of effort into part one, so I might even go back and update it sometime soon. I’ll create a list where you can find them all together too. It’s currently 5am, haven’t slept and I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t post this now, so I apologize if there’s mistakes lol. I’ll edit them when I wake up again. 🫶🏼 you guys.

“Oh, but there is no music,” Viktor musters with pause, like a last-minute thought. Like he didn’t fully think through asking Jayce to teach him how to dance. Here, alone, in his room for the night. Viktor stands towards the end of the large king-sized bed, navy-colored sheets with gold stitching. His cane is tucked into his side, eyes on Jayce, who’s still standing in front of the double doors leading to the balcony.

Jayce is luminated from behind. The glow of the party lanterns below casting warm shadows into the night sky and their -  Viktor’s room.

“We shouldn’t need any,” Jayce promises as he steps further in. He’s still taking in the room, the colors and warm ambient lighting, when he focuses back on Viktor. For a split second, he stands there looking unsure, doubtful or perhaps even regretful for asking Jayce.

Something akin to dedication and reverence rakes its way across Jayce’s bones. Deep in his marrow. He wants to erase any trace of unease from Viktor’s body and mind.

Taking a few long strides, Jayce moves to a small coffee table in the room. Sly smirk painted across his lips, hands already deep within his pockets, searching, he says, “You get the steps right, I give you more of these.”

Confusion clouds Viktor’s face. Eyebrow quirked, nose slightly scrunched, until he looks down. Jayce litters the tabletop with sweets. The same candy he stole earlier. Viktor’s favorite. A laugh is shoved from Viktor’s chest as handfuls are dropped. He watches in awe, in surprise. Jayce can’t tell which, though he decides right then and there that he’ll do anything to keep that look of wonder and mischief on Vik’s face.

“Jayce.”

Viktor laces his name with muted laughter and accusation, really failing to look upset in the slightest. 

“Don't. Don’t give me that. You’re lucky I didn’t grab the crystal dish they were sitting in. Would’ve been easier to carry all night. Been weighing down my pockets,” Jayce rambles.

Set ablaze from the joy on Viktor’s face, he’s moving faster again, not overthinking every move. He gets excited. Jayce knows this. His words and actions speed up, excitement bubbling in his chest. Enhanced by Viktor.

He's still going, Jayce. Still talking, still moving, until a slight breeze pours cool air down his back. It’s then Jayce pauses. His suit jacket is already halfway down his arms, resting in the crooks of his elbows. He wasn’t thinking. Why would he take off his jacket just to dance? Is it weird? Does Viktor think so?

No.

Jayce watches as Viktor stands there rolling up his own sleeves so causally. He doesn’t stop, still folding the fabric. He only looks up at Jayce when he’s been quite for a little too long. And Viktor just smiles. Easy and cool. Like a lazy creek. It soothes Jayce, like the most expensive balm one could buy.

“Alright,” Jayce explains as he shucks off his jacket the rest of the way, “the Waltz. It’s a simple box step.”

He closes the distance between them. His nerves are only settled for so long, until he comes to stand in front of Viktor. Until he realizes, they both can’t lead.

A smug smile tugs at the corner of Viktor’s mouth. He doesn’t wait for Jayce to voice what he can clearly read written on his face. Confident as always, he grabs Jayce’s hands. Hosting their right and left into the air, clasped together, and guiding Jayce’s right to his back. Viktor whispers, “You lead. I will follow.”

That stirs something within Jayce. Deep in his gut. A pit buried and nestled behind his belly button, and Viktor’s dipping his fucking fingers in.

He feels the back brace beneath Viktor’s black shirt, firm under his open palm. Jayce wants more. To feel more. He looks good in black. Fuck.

The feeling of Viktor’s hand coming to a rest on his shoulder shakes Jayce from his thoughts.

“We’re essentially mirroring one another’s steps, in the shape of a box. Each step is a corner,” Jayce describes. His hands are still on Viktor when he realizes he probably should’ve shown him the steps first, with more space between them. He steps away to demonstrate.

They walk through it slowly. One step at a time. Apart and then together again. Jayce gets lost. It might look like he’s letting Viktor work through the stumbling steps on his own, but no, he’s just lost. In Viktor.

Jayce in time relaxes. His right hand splays broader on Viktor’s back, covering so much space. His thumb trailing the line of his spine through the brace. He wants to feel skin. Their palms are slick with sweat, Viktor’s fingers tightening against his hand and shoulder with each misstep.

“Viktor,” Jayce speaks, “eyes on me.”

Instantly Viktor is there, grip still tight and honey amber eyes fixed on his face with determination. A bit of annoyance. Jayce smiles softly. He finds it endearing. Viktor’s intent to learn. Though now Viktor doesn’t respond, doesn’t return to the steps either.

A beat of silence. Then –

“How do you suppose I learn if I am not looking?” Viktor sputters, frustration etched into his features like Jayce asked him for something impossible. It only fuels Jayce’s adoration. Laughing, he pulls away gently, fingertips lingering, and walks over to the small table.

“You’ve done exceptional,” Jayce says as he swipes two pieces of chocolate. He walks back over to Viktor, unwrapping the fudge himself and holding the foil flat for Viktor to pick off of. Even more melted than before, fudge and peanut butter coat the foil, smudging their skin.

“The only exceptional thing I’ve achieved is not breaking any of your toes,” Viktor muses. Joking, but still frustrated. Viktor finishes eating, slipping his thumb into his mouth, ridding it of any left-over fudge.

Jayce finishes his own, tucking the trash into his pocket to deal with later. Busying himself, Jayce stares at Viktor’s feet, partly thinking and partly looking anywhere else that is not Viktor’s mouth. He replays the steps in his mind, imagines Viktor’s brace. Even though he can’t see it now he remembers its design, the mechanics.

While he didn’t lie to Viktor at all, he can understand the hiccups due to the brace. The small steps forward aren’t so much the issue as the side steps and going backwards. Viktor’s leg brace was built for stability. Rigid and sturdy, not for flowing movements. Counterbalancing his weight without his cane is also new.

“Take off your shoes,” Jayce declares. It stops Viktor mid sentence, going on again about Ms. Ellis and when she’ll notice the missing bowl of sweets. He stands there frozen and perplexed. Jayce doesn’t give him a chance to question.

He kicks off his own, and then drops to his knees. Jayce slips the ties of Viktor’s dress shoes loose easily, letting him hold onto his shoulder as his heels slide out.

Perhaps the chocolate has gone to Jayce’s head.

“Now what?” Viktor ask once their both standing again, facing each other, amusement and sarcasm replacing his confusion. They’re both in their socks. Feet sinking into the plush carpet, Jayce takes a step forward, and another.

“Wanted to try something. You’re gonna have to be closer this time though,” Jayce explains. He crowds into Viktor’s space. His right hand reaching forward with confidence, with the excuse that it’s for the dance. Viktor doesn’t hesitate, slipping back into the familiar stance. Until -

“Now, place your feet onto mine,” Jayce explains.

Now Viktor hesitates.

Looking up from the floor, amber eyes on hazel, Viktor says nothing. He just looks at Jayce intently. A moment passes, thick with tension. And in another moment, Viktor drops their clasped hands, grabbing Jayce’s other shoulder.

It shouldn’t be as intimate as it feels. The soft arch of his feet. A shutter shouldn’t rack its way down Jayce’s body as Viktor’s sock covered feet slide onto his.

It’s closer than Jayce thought. Both of Viktor’s hands now rest higher up Jayce’s shoulders. Instinctively, his left found Viktor’s waist, holding him steady as he found his balance and a comfortable position. Just as he settles, looking back to Jayce directly, soft music drifts in from the balcony. The party outside.

Jayce nearly forgot. The sea of people outside, mingling and some dancing themselves. Though Jayce would never trade spots with any of them. Money, power, spotlight. He’s content here. Alone with Viktor, in the sanctity of this room. A new song begins downstairs. Jayce’s cue to start moving.

He moves with a little more effort, the weight of Viktor comforting more than anything though. Gliding across the carpet Jayce starts with a formal Waltz. Poised and perfect. Long strides. He even adds in the turns. He wants Viktor to feel it, the grace of a Waltz you’d perform in front of the eyes of those downstairs.

But here, with Viktor, he shortens his steps soon. Because that is not them. He doesn’t feel the pressure to be perfect in Viktor’s arms. They’re more than fancy parties and the “right way” to dance. He wants Viktor to know he can have it all, that Jayce will show him everything, but that most of all, any way is perfect as long as it’s them. Together.

Before long, they’re simply turning softly, swaying. Moves Viktor could easily do and yet his feet never leave Jayce’s.

“Thank you,” Viktor breathes. The words are spoken lowly enough between them that Jayce barely registers it. Lost again. Jayce hums in response. He can’t do words at the moment.

Viktor’s body has drifted even closer. Jayce thinks if he takes a deep enough breath, their chests might brush together. But right now, it’s Viktor’s hands. Venturing from his shoulders to the nape of his neck, Viktor’s fingers graze against the longer strands of Jayce’s grown out hair. It sends goosebumps erupting, racing across his skin.

“What may I do for you in return? For all of this, tonight?” Viktor ask, his voice different now. Still sweet, still rich, but lower. Jayce understands right then that Viktor reminds him of syrup. His voice specifically. Aged and pure. Sticky sweet and slow. Thick and consuming.

Jayce smiles, responds, “The fudge, remember?”

“No,” Viktor muses, “something else.”

“Teach me something.”

Jayce can’t even regret it, once it’s past his lips and out of his mouth. Words thrown out like a curveball in slow motion. He meant it sincerely. Jayce taught him something, why not offer the same in return?

It came out heavy though. Flirty. Loaded with innuendo due to the slight draw of Jayce’s voice now.

“Like what?” Viktor inquires. It’s this moment Viktor’s fingers, warm and soft, fully slide into Jayce’s hair at the base of his skull. Jayce bites his tongue, and everything he wants to say back.

How to touch you. How to kiss you. How to ask for that from you. Fuck.

Jayce says nothing. He knows though. Viktor knows. Has always been able to read Jayce’s thoughts. Can read it all over his face too, and in the steel look in his eyes.

There is only a beat, soft, before Viktor’s grip tightens in his hair, ripping a gasp from Jayce.

Before he can breathe in again, Viktor’s mouth finds his. Warm. Soft. Their chest fully pressed together now. Jayce’s lungs burn for a full breath, but he doesn’t relent. Neither of them do. He only needs Viktor. To breathe him in.

His arms wrap fully around Viktor’s waist, pulling him in tighter, hands roaming his back now. Their tongues meet and that pit in Jayce’s belly turns molten. A sound Jayce doesn’t want to admit to escapes as Viktor brings a hand around to his face, nails scrapping through his bread. They break apart.

“Jayce,” Viktor rasp.

Jayce doesn’t give him a chance. Driven by need and Viktor’s wrecked tone. Knowing he made him sound like that, he dives back in, erasing the smile from Viktor’s face. Jayce licks behind his teeth, tasting champagne and chocolate, and just - Viktor.

Viktor’s nails scratch his jaw again, venturing lower. His other hand still drags through Jayce’s hair. Things become slower. Hands still roaming, squeezing, pulling. They stand still though. No longer swaying, Jayce’s feet are going numb and tingly beneath them, and he couldn’t care less.

Languid strokes of their tongues draw out more and more sounds. Jayce is distracted. Drowning and loving it. Drinking Viktor in by the lungful. It’s why he doesn’t see it coming.

Another tight grip in his hair, accompanied this time by Viktor’s other hand wrapped around his throat too, squeezing as Viktor sinks his teeth into Jayce’s bottom lip.

“I – unnf.”

Jayce groans, best he can with the way Viktor has his neck cranked back, fingers tightening around his throat.

“Tell me, Jayce. Tell me what you want to learn,” Viktor all but purrs.

He leans in, not going back to fully kissing him but licking across and into Jayce’s open mouth. Like he can’t stop himself either. Like Viktor, too, is fueled by desire, too hungry to wait for a response.

Jayce is weak. Weak when it comes to Viktor. Viktor’s wet mouth and hard touch. He sticks his own tongue out, meeting anywhere Viktor will allow him a taste. He only answers when Viktor pulls back once again.

He pants like a dog. Whines, only a little.

“Teach me how to suck cock.”

[wardensantoineandevka]

I won't get around to writing a properly developed post on it, but speaking generally and assuming broad good faith, I personally think the anachronism in Veilguard is fine. I know it's a deeply held bit of style for a lot of people, and many hold the directive about no anachronism as important to things feeling properly Dragon Age.

Personally, I never felt it THAT important. I roll my eyes at nitpicking about historically accurate costuming too, and I pause to wonder what IS "anachronism" in fantasy. I think a lot of the style of the games leaned so hard on it that, in some places, it was a substituting this rule in place of developing stronger individual style or voice. I love this series, but I don't feel like characters (notably once you got past core cast), locations, etc. always and consistently had a strong sense of voice, both in terms of diction but also in visual direction. I feel like even the music gets this a little bit, since Veilguard feels more musically interesting to me than many of the prior tracks because, I think, the soundtrack is allowed to feel a little less like vaguely European medieval heroic fantasy.

There's always been anachronism, but I think the strict reliance on adhering to a particular conception of what A Fantasy Story looks and sounds like really hampered, at least for me, the development of style identity. Veilguard's voice and style broke from that in a way that did feel successfully more specific and striking for the story and characters it's trying to dress. I think being released from this directive does—because there's no longer what we bring ourselves to the table from our familiarity with the genre and pattern recognition—however, magnify flaws in how Bioware always has treated the setting as just the backdrop against which these dramas play out. But that's outside the scope of my thoughts here. I'll just summarize that with: that's a consistent Bioware problem, and I don't think it's inherently wrong to approach worldbuilding as merely dressing the set for your story, though perhaps that isn't always the most successful approach here and I know many fans are very invested in the setting itself and its development, so that would put us all at cross purposes.

Don't get me wrong. There IS a place for that sort of directive, a rule against things that scan too modern. But then, I think for it to work, you have to have a very firm idea of your own voice, of your individual style and direction working with that directive, and frankly, I don't think Bioware EVER really had a super strong grasp of it here.

I do think the character design especially, character voice, and visual identity suffered SO much in many earlier instances because of this directive. Meanwhile, I think it's interesting and striking to have things like, for example, Neve clearly drawing from film noir and how that informs how I approach and think about her as a character and how appropriate it feels that Lucanis and Illario end on the stage of an opera house. I feel like being released from having to worry about anachronism has, for me, produced some of the strongest instances of style and voice in the series in a long time.

And I know a lot of people feel the OPPOSITE, which is a matter of personal experience and taste, but for my own, it always felt like the series was weighed down by a notion of needing to properly emulate The Genre. (We've all looked at the infamous browns and muds of Origins, a game I am fond of. This is why it looks and sounds like that, in my opinion.) This fear of being too anachronistic or too modern often left the series not really feeling, to me, like it's really had a firm sense or idea of what its style or voice was, of what made it sound or look like itself, because it was always afraid of being too modern while also feeling afraid to not look enough like a heroic epic fantasy.

I think getting rid of that and no longer fearing it has done a lot for developing a stronger voice with a look, sound, and feel for Veilguard that feels more specific and conveys story and character so much better and more confidently. Because, in the end, that's supposed to be what this is all in service of: conveying character and story. I feel like Veilguard, in being released from this restriction, has developed a stronger voice with which to do it.

[paulyenvol6]

Bound by Flame (Chapter 14)

Contains: no warnings really

Wordcount: ~2.44k

Masterlist of this story

It was a grey afternoon when Aegon Targaryen finally arrived two days later.

There was a gathering, fanfares and music for the future lord of the seven kingdoms and in addition to Maera and the court there were also some common borns that watched as the crown prince hugged his father.

"My son is back!" he shouted and proudly patted his shoulders.

Aegon had grown into a handsome and slender man, silver blonde of hair and a pronounced jaw. He smiled shyly and waved to the people and then made his way to greet the rest of his family that he hadn't seen in so long.

Maera returned her brother's croaked smirk and then closed her eyes when he wrapped his arms around her.

"How are you, sister? I've heard so much…"

"I'm fine. And very happy."

The hug had lasted only a few seconds and then he held her a little away from him to examin her accurately.

"It's very good to see you," he said after a while and then was quick to turn to Daemon.

"Uncle," he spoke a lot more reserved.

An amused smirk played around the addressed's lips and he inhaled deeply.

"Nephew. How was your tour? I haven't heard a great deal about it."

"No wonder. You seemed to have been occupied elsewhere. Getting my sister pregnant, for example," Aegon hissed sharply and flashed his eyes at Daemon.

Maera's uncle watched him with a mixture of amusement and menace.

"Be careful with your words. You wouldn't want to humiliate your sister in front of the whole court, would you?"

His nephew scoffed and shook his head.

"That's not what I'm after, no. But it seems like that's what you had in mind when you kidnapped her and dragged her to dragonstone."

Maera just had to intervene now and tried to push her brother away from her husband.

"Please Aegon. Don't make a scene. Everything is fine, you don't need to step in for me."

"I'm not making a scene," he answered the anger clearly showing off in his voice. "I'm trying to defend my sister and restore her honour. If there's anything left of it."

Now it was her uncle that narrowed his eyes at the crown prince and his facial expression turned cold.

"Now you're insulting your sister. And as her husband it is my place to tell you that you're not to say another thing about my wife's honour. Have I made myself clear?"

Aegon chuckled and flared his nostrils in the next moment. "It's not your place to tell me what to do!"

To Maera's relief her father finally noticed the confrontation between his brother and his son and he furrowed his brow while approaching the scene. She sighed thinking that someone with a certain authority would finally deescalate whatever this was.

"Aegon," he hissed and placed hand on his shoulder. "Behave yourself."

Unwillingly his son took his eyes off Daemon and instead glared at the king.

"How can you accept this? How can you host him like that and feast with him in your own halls??"

Maera instinctively reached out to her uncle and blindly searched for his hand which he gave her and she gripped it tightly.

"This is a lawful marriage, son. And you wouldn't actually assume that I would send my own brother away and deny him a place in my court, would you? You should apologize to your uncle for questioning his marriage."

For the first time Aegon seemed defensive and lowered his gaze. His father observed him expectantly and seemingly waited for another complain but he just looked like he was searching the ground for something until he lifted his gaze again to glance at his uncle.

"Forgive me, uncle," he breathed and judging by the way he had gulped, these words had been hard for him to say.

The addressed nodded graciously and this smug smile just wouldn't vanish from his face.

Soon the process made their way back to the castle and in the meantime Viserys announced that there would be a feast in honour of the crown prince's return tonight and the surrounding lords and ladies cheered and smiled at the royal family.

~~~~~~~~~~

In the evening a couple of handmaidens helped Maera prepare herself for the glorious ball that her father had described the upcoming feasting as and watched the crimson velvet fabric of her dress in awe. It exposed her collar bones and was tight on her torso which made it a form-fitting gown fit for a wedded princess. The dress fell down to the ground looking both heavy and effortless at the same time with the hem touching the ground just slightly like a brush of a finger. She also wore a necklace that felt cold when it touched her but its rubin looked glorious on her light skin.

Daemon who had gotten dressed in a different room knocked on her door just when she was finished and Maera thought that he might be able to read her thoughts.

His eyes flashed up when he laid them on her the first time and he unshamelessly regarded her whole body. Under his gaze Maera felt both intimidated and beautiful and suddenly she felt like her skin was in flames.

"You look stunning," he whispered so quietly that she knew those words were only meant for her ears. "Absolutely beautiful."

Maera broke into a smile and felt this familiar heat between her legs when her husband pressed a kiss on her forehead. She felt like she was turning into an animal when he was that way. When he gave her these intense eyes, watched her as if she was all he had ever wanted and spoke to her so gently that Maera believed she genuinely had never been loved by someone like this before.

"Thank you," she breathed and tried to focus. It indeed was a bad time to feel heated because there was a feast they had to attend and so Maera exhaled a few times and she savoured the breeze that came with the opening of the door. The dizziness faded and she felt stronger on her feet as Daemon guided her through the corridor heading to the throne room.

They were greeted by her brother who actually seemed to pull himself together and returned the honest smile Maera gave him. Then they took their seat next to the king and Maera let her eyes wander over the room.

The hall was generously decorated with candles, tapestries and the Targaryen banner majestically towering beside the king's table. A group of musicians played lively music and lords and ladies were already exuberantly dancing in the middle of the room. Soon Maera felt too excited and jittery to sit around and questioningly looked at Daemon.

"I wish to dance, uncle."

He had just lifted his cup to his mouth and watched her with raised eyebrows while taking a sip of wine. Then he placed it back on the table in front of him and a playful smirk appeared on his lips.

"Is that so?" he asked and ran his hand over his wife's thigh.

"Please. I don't want to sit around all night."

He chuckled lightly but then sighed and got off his chair.

"Alright. If I may?" he asked sarcastically while offering his niece his hand. She felt a bubbly feeling in her tummy and joyfully took his hand.

Daemon guided her down the few steps to the dance floor where she spotted several lords of her father's small council as well as his hand. Her husband rested one of his hands on her waist and then the couple started to move to the music.

Maera smiled up to him. He looked so gorgeous in this light and she simply loved it when his eyes turned so soft and loving. There was a smile on his mouth as well and right now there was nothing sarcastic about it. It was a genuine, honest smile and she couldn't help but feel proud knowing that she was one of the few people in this world who got to see it. Gods, she wanted him so badly in every way someone could want a man. She wanted him to love her, hold her, touch her and praise her. And seven hells, she wanted to carry his child again.

"Kiss me," Maera whispered quietly and now his smile turned into a smirk again.

"Tsk tsk. That's not the kind of behaviour fit for a princess," he said with his raspy voice and Maera swore she felt her heart beat faster just because of the sound of his voice.

"Please," she demanded again and this time Daemon inhaled loudly but looked amused rather than annoyed.

He leaned down and pressed his soft lips on hers. She knew that it was not only inappropriate but also disrespectful towards her brother who had so explicitely expressed his dislike regarding her marriage to Daemon earlier but she couldn't care less. The only thing Maera cared about was the gorgeous man in front of her who only loved her.

But the kiss didn't last long either way because he soon pulled away hinting at the fact that unlike her, he hadn't utterly forgotten about his good manners. He watched her glossy eyes that showed how much she yearned for him smugly and then ran his thumb over her waist just very slightly.

"You're making it very hard for me not to take you away from the feast and up to my room right now."

Maera felt goosebumps on her arms but just when she wanted to answer the music suddenly stopped and the dance was over. That was also the moment when someone approached Daemon from behind and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"If that's not Daemon Targaryen," a voice said and Maera blinked a few times trying to figure out who the slim small man was.

"Otis," Daemon chuckled and didn't seem to have any difficulties recognizing him.

"Maera, this is Otis, a good friend from my childhood. And Otis, I don't believe I have to introduce the princess to you."

She smiled when the man bowed his head and kissed the back of her hand.

"It's very nice to meet you, ser," she said. "We haven't seen each other in years, have we?"

Otis asked and grinned at his old friend. "That much is true."

"How about a drink together? We have so much to talk about."

Daemon nodded but then his eyes fell upon his wife. He really didn't feel like leaving her alone especially considering the fact that there were so many lustful lords in this room who were probably only waiting for a chance to creep up on her. But at the same time Daemon didn't want to reject his friend and he really wanted to know what he had been up to those past years. So he would just have to trust his wife.

"I will be back soon, love. I'm just gonna go sit outside with Otis for a little while so we can catch up," he spoke and kissed Maera on her forehead. "Don't do anything stupid, you understand me?"

She nodded and observed her husband while he rubbed over her shoulder one last time before heading out with his friend. She was so deep in her thoughts that she didn't notice the man staring at her at first but once Daemon had left the hall she turned her head only to look right into the eyes of Cylvin Lannister.

She had known him since she was a child and had always despised him. She hated the way his eyes clenched and Maera had found herself feeling scared of him as a child but now he just disgusted her. His company was definitely the last thing she wished for now so the girl started to make her way through the crowd but unfortunately he was faster than her and managed to cut her way off by stepping in front of her.

"Princess," he said and bowed his head.

Maera gave him a forced smile that he seemingly couldn't distinguish from an authentic one because he took it as an invitation to kiss her hand.

"You look lovely tonight, my princess."

"Thank you," she said curtly.

"I hope your husband is aware of his luck. Having the most beautiful woman in the room at his side, I mean." Cylvin grinned and she felt the urge to throw up right in this moment.

"He is, thank you," Maera answered and was certain that by now her disgust was clearly visible on her face. "Will you please excuse me now, ser? My father has asked for my presence."

She gave him her sweetest smile but before she was able to turn around and walk away he stopped her by placing his hand on her shoulder.

"But sweet child, your father seems pretty engrossed in a conversation, he can surely do without your presence for a few more minutes."

At this point Maera grew very angry and was about to give a snappy answer when she heard another voice.

"Excuse me ser, but he can't. You won't mind me escorting the princess to his grace now."

She turned around and looked into the familiar face of lord Jakor Hightower, a lord in her father's council. Cylvin grinded his teeth but acted indifferently towards him.

"Of course, yes."

The rest of his mumbling Maera couldn't understand but it didn't matter now because he had turned around and left the dance floor. The girl exhaled loudly and looked at her saviour.

"Thank you, my lord."

He smirked at her croakedly. "You're very welcome, princess. I saw you and believed that you might need some rescue."

Maera chuckled and was able to relax now in lord Jakor's presence, who she had always liked for his calm and even-tempered character.

"Yes, he… I've never liked him and he wouldn't leave me alone."

"I don't like him either. He smells of burnt hair, for some weird reason. And spoiled cheese."

Maera had to laugh out loudly and then furrowed her brow.

"I don't like his eyes. They're mean and… evil."

Jakor looked at her thoughtfully but then smiled softly.

"Don't think about his eyes then. May I have this next dance, princess?"

She only fought for a brief moment with herself. He had rescued her so it would be rude to refuse.

And it was only a dance after all and Maera knew Daemon to like and respect the lord as well.

He surely wouldn't have anything against it.

~~~~~~~~~~

I swear, the next chapter will be longer!!

Taglist:

@smashee0789 @classicsimpforaaronwarner @hangmanscoming @ninihrtss @coffeebooksrain18 @aleemendoza2425-blog @chiminies-noona

[anyacad0]

A musical analysis on Dan Heng

because I like Dan Heng and would willingly sacrifice my firstborn to Hoyo-Mix.

Let's start at the beginning of the Luofu arc, where the composers begin to set the scene of the Xianzhou ship. The area themes are relaxed, very typical background music. There is of course an abundance (heh) of traditional Chinese instruments. Some areas sound a little more modern, like the Artisanship commision, but the whole Luofu has a general feeling of being pleasant without a whole lot of emotion compared to the will to survive heard in Belobog, or the sheer wonder heard in Penacony.

At first, this seems to apply to Dan Heng as well. The first time we hear his motif is actually not in Samudrartha, but during the cutscene where he transforms for the first time. Although the melody is his, the instrumentation and musical style are still reminiscent of tracks like Evanescent Dreams and Mokshasatya.

now, time to analyse an actual song. Did you know there are actually three versions of Samudrartha? There's the version from before the cutscene, the version from the cutscene itself, and the album version. the last two aren't particularly different, but the pre-cutscene version warrants an analysis of it's own.

it uses a different vocal take, and a softer instrumental than the album version. It's uncertain, just like Dan Heng in that critical moment. And yes, there are still Chinese instruments present. But despite that, it doesn't feel like a Xianzhou track, and I'll explain why.

Then, the album version. It gets rid of the lonely-sounding piano intro. The instrumental starts off as primarily piano, with a Chinese instrument playing occasional notes. At 0:22, the Chinese instruments become more prevalent, but it's still the piano providing the base of the song. at 0:42 we hear this rising and falling melody on some kind of flute, and at 0:46 a short melody played on synth. Both of these are very important.

First, the flute melody is actually a motif of the astral express. We hear it in March 7th's theme (0:49), in one of the pre-release trailers (0:46), in the concert version of Take The Journey (1:48) and in Ichor Of Two Dragons (we'll get to that don't worry). Interestingly, the Express motif isn't present in the pre-cutscene version of Samudrartha, which very much implies that it's because of the Express Crew that Dan Heng finds the resolve to face his past.

Then there's that synth note. It's so significant because it's unlike anything else we've heard on the Luofu. Synth used in Xianzhou tracks is rare usually "blends in" with the Chinese instruments.

Then we get the chorus and at this point, the piano is replaced by a synth which plays a powerful chord followed by a melody with five ascending notes. You can hear these five notes more clearly on the flutes in the next line- this is the high-cloud quintet motif. It's actually played on strings in the cutscene version, probably because the physical tension in the instrument helps portray the tension of the scene. The motif isn't super important for now, but remember it, because Hoyo does something really cool with it later on. There's nothing super notable for the rest of the first chorus, only that the synth continues to provide the song's underlying framework, with strings playing most of the melodies. Again, the Chinese instruments are present but not really significant.

As for the instrumental section, it's two melodies: the first is the regular Xianzhou motif, accompanied by a repetitive flute melody. The second time starts of the same, but then it seems to break free of the original motif and become its own melody.

For the final chorus, the instruments follow the same pattern as the first (although there is this string countermelody in the second half which doesn't have any significance other than the fact that it sounds beautiful) but I do want to talk about the vocals since these were used for the cutscene. Aside from the first line, the entire chorus is pretty conspicuously autotuned, which Yusuf obviously didn't need, so this was almost certainly done to affect the quality of the sound rather than the vocals themselves. The result is that the cutscene version of Samudrartha feels completely different to anything else we've heard on the Xianzhou. There's also the heavy string and piano presence, which makes me think of the title screen and therefore the Astral Express.

Before we get to the really good part (that is, the animated short), I'll briefly talk about the OST for Dan Heng's character trailer. I like that the flute seems to have become Dan Heng's instrument since that means that both he and Blade are wind characters represented by wind instruments. I don't have anything to say about a specific part of the song, but as a whole it starts off very traditional Chinese and leans more heavily into synthetic/modern instruments over the course of the trailer. Building on the past and moving toward the future, one could say. The high-cloud quintet motif is present, but only briefly, compared to, say, Jingliu's trailer where it's present for almost the whole song.

Now, let's talk about Ichor Of Two Dragons. Any timestamp I use will be in reference to the album version unless I say otherwise, since although it's cut down, the voice acting in the actual animated short makes it difficult to focus on the music.

from 00:00 to 0:40, there's this music box melody which is generally very peaceful. It comes back later, so remember it. You'll notice that, aside from the music box, which is generally considered a nostalgic instrument, everything else is strings and piano again. In fact, this song isn't even remotely Chinese. What happens here has nothing to do with the Xianzhou- it's Dan Heng coming to terms with himself, regardless of anything or anyone else.

from 0:40 to 1:16, based on the animation you'd expect the music to become more ominous and threatening, but instead it stays nostalgic and emotional, still holding on to the previous melody and the happy memory it represents. At 1:16, we also hear what I think is the first line of Samudrartha, but it disappears within a few seconds as Dan Heng tries, as always, to push his past away. At 1:38 we get the first time signature change, to a very irregular 5/4, and stays this way for most of the fight. The emotional melody also disappears, and the music becomes more appropriately intense. Remember that express crew motif from before? We hear it at 1:56, but it's rushed and desperate. And, again, played on synth.

2:04 is why I told you to remember the quintet motif. That's it, but backwards. It only plays a few times before being drowned out, so to speak, by the other instruments, but the fact that Dan Heng is now being represented by a motif that's so connected with his past, but also unique, is such a great way of portraying him. We also get another time signature change, now to 3/4. The Samudrartha melody from the beginning also returns (2:27), played on a violin rather than what I believe was a cello the first time, so it sounds much more desperate and emotional this time. For this whole segment of the song, there is a synth in the background playing occasional short melodies, but it's barely noticeable.

now, 2:48. That's an electric guitar. Why is that important? Because, throughout the entire Xianzhou OST, this instrument is not present at all. Even during the wardance arc, Hoyo-Mix seems to have gone out of their way to not use any electric guitar, in order to have this one remain unique.

At 2:54, just as Dan Heng opens his eyes, the reversed quintet motif also comes back, this time on the flutes, which as I said before, seem to be associated with Dan Heng. This is also the first time they appear in this song. The violin melody repeats and, as it isn't drowned out this time, it continues and evolves into the melody of what really feels like a completely different song. From 3:06 to the end of the song, we get this hype, upbeat orchestral rock piece which, between the electric guitar and drumming style, is much more modern than the rest of the song. Throughout this whole section, the flutes also keep playing the reversed quintet motif.

Finally (although this part isn't in the album version), when the Express Crew appear, they're represented by the same melody as Dan Heng's memories of the quintet, on piano rather than a music box.

[spotlightlowlife]

Few hits, a helluva lot of misses this sinsmas

Season one was better. I stand by this. The foreshadowing of characters to come and what to expect from them, showing more than telling and the courage to have likable characters just be horrible seems lost this time around.

So here we will look into what and who had moved forward or back since season one.

Where there was progress

Handing over Stella's revenge to her creep of a brother, as disappointing as it is to have her sidelined here, I appreciate that he had his own objective to replace Stolas, it really leaves the door open to questions of who this family actually are (and typing this out only makes the suggested incestuous stuff even more solid, if this wasn't so safe they could lean into this more).

Still, she wanted revenge and she got it, acheiving more than most, she's now back in Stolas's fancy home a position to live it up again and her husband who humiliated her has now been humiliated 7x for all of hell to see. This worked out better than the hit.

Maybe her relationship with Octavia, whatever it is, will strain or maybe her brother will become and annoyance, both of which could spoil her comfort and how would she react to this? As before, with little screen time and all efforts intended to make her look bad, there's still a helluva lot that can be done with Stella.

moderate progress

We don't see or hear much from Millie but I actually think there have been numberours times she has hinted towards her relationship not being all wholesome and lovey dovey. Though you do have to combined the shorts and season one.

We meet Millie's family towards the start and get to see her hometown and know her upbringing, though she could have been cropped out the episode what we got was Millie not want Moxxie to try to impress her family who clearly didn't think he was good enough and not speaking up in defence of her choice. The next time her family get some time it is during a short when she would spend the day with Sallie and Moxxie would make the considerate move of silently and secretly passing by without interacting, in his own home. This tells us that these two families are separate and she's doing anything to change that. We had forced Sallie angst over Millie leaving which was a sidestep since Millie is now comfortably married to a partner they don't like and she works a job her family don't believe is a real one. In Sallie's few lines she poked fun at Moxxie as her parents made him know he wasn't welcome in their coldness, so as much as Millie episodes have been known to become Moxxie episodes, we could have addressed and maybe wrapped up a plot point in allowing Sallie to question, respect or agree to disagree with her sisters marriage, this too could still have served as Sallie angst rather than the parents being conveniently useless.

A short was the first to tell us that Millie doesn't like the musicals that Moxxie enjoys, this was bought up again in the finale, though one thing she does like is being serenaded, yet she has also shared that she likes attention, which could be a clue as to why she wants to be away from her hometown and in a city where she's different, and in a relationship with very someone different from her. A massive change from what she was used to and what is expected could have been a part of the appeal of her relationship with Moxxie and the best way for her to get the validation she craves?

On the subject of different, when and why did she date Chaz? Still one of the most pointless parts of this show to date was giving Millie and ex, an ex she's furious with and a shared ex with her husband, buy not exploring any part of that while we get a rundown of Chaz x Moxxie. When we finally saw Millie's background, we see that she was living as some rough neck when Blitzø was starting IMP, which was after Chaz and Moxxie ended where Moxxie would meet Blitzø in prison. What would the appeal of Chaz to this Millie?

There were multiple jokes about Moxxie being pegged and his bisexuality, other times he is in over his head and encouraged to toughen up and go battle, he has also proven to be naive and immature which has Millie having to be his keeper. Millie opened up about liking attention as she spoke about feeling unsupported, in the same episode she looked forward to going on a mission with just Moxxie and was ignored when she when she solved a mystery which would have saved a load of time and theatrics had she been heard.

When she had the moodswing and accused Moxxie of not being man enough, it didn't come out if nowhere.

Millie's pregnancy being the reason she gains some signature angst that all empathic characters get is such a waste of time, its formualic and bypasses an excellent reason to shelve her

this could be a great opportunity for more to be done with her besides getting an occasional action scene to give her some content. Any fallout from

work (the workplace she's nonchalant about not being a good source of income, the same work place that her husband works at)

family (who don't respect Moxxie and there's no proof Sallie warmed to him when she visited and they didn't interact, and Millie is just fine with that and why aren't they more worried about Crimson? an actual successful gangster who doesn't care for their marriage, tracked them down and used his estranged adult son as property, dispite setting up a decent villain he was reduced to a throwaway Saturday cartoon villain)

her life (does she have one? we learnt that she's greatful to Blitzø because she believed they were only good for being lackies, so her whole life is her hardly paying job where she met her man? her only friend seems to be her sister even though she managed to get a man before Moxxie and Millie and Sallie's dat out was so generic that we leant nothing about either of their hobbies and interest)

Could easily follow too. The end could have simply been Millie finding out she's pregnant as the cliffhanger minus joining the drama club and it would have made little difference to whatever actual story followed on in season 3. Millie being pregnant was a top topic in the fandom with some seeing suspicious behaviour, i see how people came to this conclusion of adultary seeing as the episode was otherwise dominated by Stolas's life being a mess down to his affair with Blitzø, but I'm willing to bet it's just drama for the sake of drama, which is unnecessary because she has been one of the better characters.

Some progress

Loona making progress with Blitzø has been nice, but he was and always will be supportive of her.

Loona's interactions with others however have held so many misses dispite us making great strides away back when Loona revealing herself to be friendless in season one, showing us that even though she was nervous and shy in the presence of Vortex, it was more than just a crush. It was interesting to see someone actually want to interact with others as Blitzø's loneliness was entirely comedic until the finale and actual finale and Millie and Moxxie just having eachother was played for cuteness.

Then Loona is casually invited to a casual party by Tex, which just so happens to be thrown by his girlfriend, the sin of gluttony herself, Beelzebub. She didn't have a good experience at the party but gave it more than one chance, she needed Blitzø popularity and charisma to piggy back off.

At Sinsmus, it was possibly a cute moment that Loona wanted to go out on a job with Blitzø, or she was just bored sat in the office and it's only now an issue? She has been a lot more chill as of late which could be down to their recent major trauma, or it could be because she now has friends? When did this happen? The only time we have seen her out socializing was during the actual finale of season one. The previous episode where Blitzø dragged Stolas to Ozzie's let us know that she had taken up the invite from earlier in the season and went to a party, actual finale would have us follow Loona and see for ourselves that this party and its godly host just weren't it. Loona leaves as the designated driver that night having been very publicly threatened by Bee who could have squished her in a moment, and for doing nothing to fit in with the 'good vibes' of the fakes around her, yet at some point between both season finales, she made friends?

There have been two great windows for Loona to stand out to others

When Bee made a scene at the party

When Bee failed to acknowledge her presence during a televised court proceeding where she was facing execution with three imps

Neither make Bee look good and since the public have been so quick to turn of Stolas, these friends, fellow hounds, could easily have been people who saw her and thought she was brave and cool. We could have seen communications with her in messages on the phone she us frequently scrolling through.

If they had bonded with her over these things, then would it not have made a good subplot to have the drinks Loona pulled out not be Bee's line of drinks?

Loona's ties to Bee are so strong, from the orphanage/prison/dog pounds, to the easily accessible parties the lowest of classes are welcome at, to drinking at home, yet efforts have been made to double down on how Loona and Bee mean nothing to eachother (seriously Blitzø stands out on trial and not the one and only hellhound who is muzzled) in a series that hinges on the plight of the abused and traumatised, but then I look to the late actual finale of season one and see that the first half started strong but soon descended into a taster of what was to come in season 2, with the neutering of powerful characters in order for us to just like them and see them as nice...

No progress at all, counter progress even

Royalty. The sins and Stolas.

Again, season one mapped out who was going to be important in the future well. From Verosika the sucubus travelling with an asmodean crystal, being a functioning addict who knows Barbie doing what a lot of addicts do and not straying far from their vice by taking with her Bee's alcohol with her, which wasn't to be consumed by non demons, to Mammon's Loo Loo land being a cheap knock off staffed by Fizzbots made by Ozzie, they played their roles before we ever met them.

Also Stolas was the powerful prince indulging in a fantasy regardless of how uncomfortable Blitzø was, to then look ashamed at being publicly called out and teased by Ozzie. This is how we left things in season one.

As mentioned earlier, the actual finale of season one had Bee start off strong with a catchy song, showcasing her powers and letting us know that she's a shallow love bomber. All this worked until her concern for Blitzø dispite encouraging destructive behaviour and wanting to get her hands on drugs that are another sins territory.

Now we have Loona and her new friends drinking Bee's supply at a party. As common as groups of friends drinking is, it's almost like Bee managed to get in there with consumption of her thing.

Do the not have options to boycott her? Does she supply all alcohol?

What about small business selling alcohol, do they exist and do they feed back to her, are they her jurisdiction?

Are bootleggers (please don't buy bootleg drinks people) and moonshiners commiting a crime by stepping into her territory and are they dealt with?

The last question seems unlikely when we factor in season 2 very disappointing neutering of fun mean guy Ozzie, who now isn't at fault for the Fizz sexbots that season one had no issue with because now he's nice, so blame is bypassed of these so sort after dolls that they managed a series crossover to Hazbin onto Mammon, and for what reason? Not wanting others thirsting over his boy toy yet the example of a creep predated Fizz's mainstream fame? There was no explanation other than wanting Fizz to quite his other job that he worked hard in and was what he had known all his life. We saw that Fizz was showy, his widespread fame complimented that and he looked a great example of a rags to riches success story, but one irrelevant knockback is the perfect opportunity for smothering Ozzie to coerce him into giving up and staying at home. It's sad how his behaviour is universally seen as sweet and not possessive. Sad for numberours reasons

coercive control is a real thing and hard to spot

this is an adult cartoon, this behaviour fits perfectly with lust, this could be a good things story wise with Ozzie being intentional in this behaviour because it's in his nature or not being intentional but realizing that he's being irrational for many the first time

They want to tell is that some sins have 'positive aspects' but at the same time the few deemed 'good' don't have the negative aspects?

Ozzie almost encouraged Stolas in his fling with Blitzø that ruined his royal marriage and divided his family, why is carrying around Fizz and doing whatever in privacy in any way a scandal? They look like like two people indulging in a fetish, which suits him. Ozzie is big on consent too and doesn't believe in love potions, so what is he doing about those who make them since he's do aware?

And another thing

So far IMP have used the asmodean crystal to carry out their work, we leant that the crystal means they're under Ozzie's jurisdiction, but we never leant what that meant even though this crystal would be a big deal because it replaced Stola's book.

In this last episode we watched IMP show up on earth, do nothing and leave. Do they not report anywhere on their reason for travelling? Are they commissioned to do stuff? If earth travel is no big deal than why is this magic so heavily kept under lock and key? What are royalty even doing with their ability to travel to earth?

We missed many opportunities in mastermind to

have the importance of Stolas's grimores be told and how it can't be in the wrong hands

importance of contracts which are a big deal in parent serise Hazbin Hotel

the fact that the book isn't missing from Stolas's possession

IMPs line of work being any form of big deal or not, can they continue? Obviously they did and how exactly are they getting to earth now?

that fact that IMPs are responsible for new sinners which contradicts the plot of the parent series Hazbin Hotel which this time around ran alongside HB

Ozzie is a side character who has got a good share of screen time, there's easily more to him than his relationship, especially when he's responsible for so much, but who had received a massive chunk of screen time and has legit been stripped of his power? Stolas. Who I'm sure the pilot that informed us that he was responsible for global warming, but now we don't know his role in anything, it now doesn't matter and he's only in his mid 30s.

The good guy badge has prevented so many things being allowed to be a thing. Bee, Ozzie and Stolas got off to a great start on introduction, their characters are a shell of what they were and were built up to be and Hazbin has told us that this is just fine. Good news is, when the bar is low, thing can only get better?

Anyway. Happy holidays readers.💗

[greyedian]

MAN I'm seriously so sad about season 2. Bc I wish act 2 had the same emotional impact on me as it appears to have on so many others. But rn I'm just somewhere between unable to care and actively annoyed by some of those writing decisions. Seriously the more I think about it the less I like it.

[lil-gingerbread-queen]

So... Multiple right-wing politicians and figures in France went to social media to ask people to vote for Israel at the Eurovision and themselves vote for her, because it is "antisemitic to boo Israel" or something... That's how you get Israel a ton of votes.

Btw, a lot of those politicians are in a political party that was created with a SS. The leaders are from the same family, the father being friend with the SS and Nazis and the daughter viewing Hitler as an uncle when she was younger. This party also denied the Holocaust and later declared that it did happened (because it's against the law to deny the Holocaust), but it's not as bad as we make it. Just to point out that zionists just want to get rid of Jewish people, they don't care about them.

And also, French don't care about the Eurovision, because we all agree that we suck at music. People barely speak about it. And suddenly, those mfs give a fuck about it (the other time they do is when we send a poc to represent France, that's a scandal for them 🙄)

[masterfuldoodler]

If half alive has 1000 fans I am one of them. If half alive has 1 fan, I am that fan

[kindahoping4forever]

my ultimate wish for this next era is they finally let Ryan go like they did Andy. I'm so sick of not getting the content we deserve. All the gatekeeping of tour diaries and now the crumbs of concert footage in that "documentary" yesterday. he was working for months on that? that's why we didn't get tour diaries? all that footage just goes in his vault now? Please.

Hello! I'm sorry to hear you felt disappointed by yesterday's special. However, I feel compelled to comment on a few objective points in your ask.

- "Live & Backstage in Amsterdam" was directed by James Tonkin, the same director (and production team, Hangman) they worked with on "The Feeling of Falling Upwards" (and the unreleased "Live in Brixton" special). Ryan was credited as director of the documentary footage and as a contributing editor (1 of 3) but the live footage and overall final program was not his work.

- Regardless of the particular creatives involved here (or in any given project for that matter), the fact remains that any directors, producers, photographers, etc are all hired hands operating with full input and specific direction from the band. The band chose to make this a hybrid concert film/documentary. The band chose to condense the setlist the way they did. The band chose this format over the traditional tour diaries. What happens to the unused footage will be determined by the band. Ryan is a friend but he is first and foremost an employee and the band owns that footage. (Likewise, the MYT diaries are not sitting on Andy Deluca's hard drive because he's "gatekeeping" or too lazy to edit it. If the band wanted them released, they'd be released.) All this to say, of course you don't have to agree with the decisions but it's important to clarify who your complaint is with.

- This concept of the band or their collaborators "gatekeeping" and fans not getting what we "deserve" is, to be blunt, entitled and immature. Being a fan does not make an artist indebted to you. They make music, if you feel so inclined, you listen. That's it. That's the extent of the contract. Anything beyond that is optional for both parties. Any content an artist chooses to release is not out of obligation or generosity, it's part business strategy, part artistic vision. Artists do not owe you anything. This band does not owe you anything.

[dkettchen]

hey youtube why you playing ads on my own damn videos when you refuse to give me monetisation for them

[hauntedorpheum]

first time people tell a content creator GIVE US MORE ADS

[httpiastri]

how about if... i just... don't do my work.....