#she's a force to be reckoned with and has terrifying powers

[beastsovrevelation]

How Lottie appears:

Lottie actually:

The Wilderness prophet must be feared and revered, you can't convince me otherwise

[keilanana]

𝑻𝒐 𝑫𝒆𝒇𝒚 𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒆

ɪ. ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ

Now that you've sort of finally accepted your new circumstances, you take the opportunity of being a baby to stare because you know no one's gonna call you a creep for it (this time).

Penelope is 'Mother', you eventually decide.

You take a lot after her, you realize whenever she decides to hold you up to a mirror one day to show you the newest onesie (cow-themed, this time) she's bought for you. You share her skin tone and eye color, and you're fairly sure you see tufts of [H/c] hair growing in.

Those similarities, however, are the only ones you share with her, for she still looks different from you in plenty of other ways.

Penelope Ophelia is tall—almost reaching up to six feet, you're pretty sure—and thin, her body shape a perfect hour glass. Her hair is straight, but cascades into curls where it ends just beneath her butt, and her eyes are fox-like and almost luminescent when the moon or sun hits them just right. Honestly, had it not been for the fact that she was your Mother, you would have been terrified of her as a stranger.

But it is because of the fact that she is your Mother, though, that you know her appearance is exactly just that: an appearance, and nothing more. Despite the sharpness of her eyes and how cool her skin feels against your own, there is a softness to Penelope that pulls you in and makes you unafraid to curl your small hands into the fabric of her clothes and nuzzle your face into the spot that sits between her neck and her shoulder. She coos everytime you do and always makes sure to nuzzle you back, and it fills your insides with warmth.

She likes to bake in her free time, and is pretty damn good at it if the mouth watering smell of bread or whatever other pastry Penelope decides to bless the Ophelia household with is anything to go by. You unfortunately can't really eat a lot of her pastries due to being a baby that's yet to grow their teeth in, but you've learned long ago that patience is, in fact, a virtue, and you will happily reap your reward once the time finally comes.

(For now, though, you can only suffer in silence as you watch Willow scarf down the best looking cheesecake you've ever seen while Penelope airplanes baby food into your mouth.)

The woman you get your horns and slowly growing goat ears and tail from is Willow Ophelia, now also dubbed 'Mum'.

She's about a head shorter than Mother, but for what she lacks in height, she makes up for in muscle. Due to her apparent appreciation for crop tops, you've already seen just how toned her stomach is, and her arms—while not too big—clearly have a lot of power, though you're sure that's what tending to a farm filled with crops and animals does to you.

Mum's skin is dark and littered with lighter patches (vitiligo, you think?), and her eyes are round and colored forest green. What mainly draws you into her, however, has to be the fluffy cloud of platinum blonde hair that sits atop her head, with goat ears colored the same coming out from the sides and thick, birch-like horns protruding from the top and curling backwards in a way that kind of reminded you of that one old goat from Hoodwinked.

When you see Mother and Mum together, it is then that you finally start to believe the old saying, "Opposites attract."

While Penelope looks and feels cold on the outside despite the pure warmth she freely gives to those she loves and cares for, Willow's appearance is all it takes to hide the fact that—even with the chill, almost goofy demeanor she likes to wear around other people—she is a force to be reckoned with the moment you earn her ire.

Firm, stubborn, and determined, Willow loves fiercely and therefore protects her family with the rage of a soldier. You know that she genuinely does actually like working on the farm, but you also know it serves as something to keep her in shape and ready for a fight, too.

Like with Penelope, however, you can't find yourself feeling any sort of fear for her, and perhaps that is because, as her child—the culmination of hers and Penelope's love—you have only ever known Willow's strength in the form of her strong arms holding you like they're meant to shield you from the dangers of the world and willing to do anything to keep you from harm, no matter the cost. Willow's rage is only for those who deserve it, and already, somehow, you know that—in her eyes, at least—you never will.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

In the night, Mother reads fairy tales to you from an old book she tells you was gifted to her from her grandfather before his passing.

With a rocking chair next to your crib and you safely secured in her lap, positioned so that you could lay against her stomach, Penelope makes sure to hold the book on her lap in a way that allows you to see the pictures that color the pages not littered with words. Her voice is regal, but also possesses an almost rumbly quality to it that makes her chest vibrate enough to where you can feel it, and that alone is nearly enough to send your eye lids fluttering shut.

Mother likes happy endings. She tells you herself after she finishes reading Cinderella to you, one night (a night that you're very proud of because you didn't immediately fall asleep like you usually do when she reads to you), and tucks you into bed.

"The world is nothing like the ones I read to you, little love," she says, the soft smile that had been gracing her delicate features at the time growing at the sight of your small yawn. "I still like to believe that there is a happy ending for everyone, though, and I hope that someday, you will find yours."

She had ended the brief moment off with a kiss to your forehead, and then left you to dream of the daring princes, kind princesses, and fearsome beasts from the stories she had weaved into your mind with her romantic tales.

Mum's stories come in the day. They aren't as frequent as Mother's, but that only makes them all the more special.

When it's time for those moments, no matter how long or short they may turn out to be, Mum likes to take you away from the house and sit near the lake, where you can watch all the little frogs and dragon flies go about their business amongst the lily pads beneath the blue, cloudy sky.

It is in those moments, then, where it is only the two of you, Mum speaks of no fairy tales or happy endings. Instead, she tells you of divine beings greater than you could ever know; beings who envy the very mortals they look down upon because they can feel things they will never be able to fully replicate, and monsters born from people forced into a world and punished for mistakes not even their own. She whispers about the wilds; about how different this world used to be before humanity's advancements. She doesn't blame all of them for their ambition, for wanting to create an easier world for the generations to come, but you don't miss the sad, almost mournful look that flickers through her shiny eyes, looking as if she'd been pulled back into memories from long before.

And when that happens, all you can do is lean back into her and hope that your presence is enough to bring her home.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

This was it. You were finally gonna do it.

You were going to walk today, and no one could stop you.

(A fact that you were very right about, as the only two people who could stop you wouldn't even want to, as any parent's child's first steps is a sacred memory.)

Furrowing your brows in concentration, you shakily lift a hand and place it against the counter next to you for support as you slowly push yourself up onto your feet, a determined frown painting your lips.

Okay. You inhale deeply and try to straighten your back out. Okay, I'm standing up. It's going well so far. Now ...

Narrowing your [E/c] eyes, you begin to look around the room, pondering: Where should I walk to?

As if on cue, Mother steps into the room, and she gasps—loudly.

"Willow!" She turns to yell up the stairs. "Willow get the camera and come quick!"

You hear something clatter from above, but you pay it no mind and instead focus on the the long, white sundress your Mother had decided to wear today.

Bingo.

Taking another deep breath to hype yourself up, you slowly, but surely, take a small step. The action, of course, has your Mother returning her gaze to you faster than anyone can blink, and she gasps again.

"WILLOW! HURRY, LOVE!!"

"I'M HURRYING, I'M HURRYING!!"

Stumbling down the stairs, Mum slides over to Mother's side and nearly drops the camera she's holding in the process—both from the fact that her entrance had almost led to her landing flat on her face, and the shock of seeing you trying to walk.

Choosing to focus on your goal instead of the two women standing in front of you, their eyes filling with tears, you keep your eyes glued to your feet as you carefully take another step, and another one, and another one ...

"Look at you go, kid!" Willow whoops from behind the camera as she takes pictures.

Standing next to her wife, Penelope beams at you and claps her hand, practically glowing the pride. "That's it, little love! Keep going!" she cheers.

Soon enough, the counter is no longer there to support you, and you look up just in time to give your moms a gummy smile as your little legs take you stumbling forward into Mother's legs. The women cheer, and Willow takes one last picture of you hugging Penelope's legs like a koala before setting the camera aside and picking you up, grinning widely.

"That was amazing, kiddo!" She holds you between Mother and herself so they can both smother you with kisses. "Does this mean you're gonna be talking soon, too?"

You giggle, the sound high pitched and bright, and it makes your moms snuggle you even more.

The Ophelia household is warm for the rest of the day, and you can't help but hope it'll stay that way for the rest of your second life.

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Tag List: @randomgurl2326

[stolasdearest]

Ooohhjj Alastor with a Fem!s/o that is a wendigo demon!?? Like she has the skull head(can come off to show her face but that is super rare) and all, taller the he is, good at hiding in the trees especially in Al's room with the forest part! Most likely a cannibal as well. She also collects souls and demon contracts. She is powerful but isn't interested in becoming a demon lord.

Alastor x Reader ⋅.˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

ׂׂૢ pairing : Alastor x Reader

ׂׂૢ cw : not Proofread

ׂׂૢ Reader is Female

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

♪ surprisingly he's very into you hiding in his Forrest, you'll make it a little game of him trying to find you while you dash and hide in the shadows of his territory. It's thrilling for him, especially when you get the upper hand, his smile twitching while shivers run up his spine

♪ love hate relationship with your height honestly, sure he loves you in all your glory but— he's supposed to be the main one here why do you tower over him? Bend down please.

♪ Alastor is extremely into your skull head, it's grotesque, freaky and he adores it. He, however does not at all mind the face under it; he's absolutely content with whichever one you grace him with

♪ Doesn't quite understand your whole thing of collecting souls and making contracts with pathetic sinners yet you have no desire of being an Overlord? He consistently tells you how terrifying you'd be, a force to be reckoned with— "a bunch of flattery" is what you always wave him off with. It's not your loss if he doesn't understand not everyone wants so much power

♪ his favorite thing is to bring you to cannibal Town with him since you both frequent it, a nice cup of tea and a few pinky fingers with Rosie is always a delight! You three get along great.

Author's note : ahh! This was really short but I just wanted to get this out there :3 hope it's good enough pookies

Taglist : @anni1600 @ihavetoomanyfictionalcrushes @k1y0yo @d0nutsaur

[miroh4]

happy horse day!

this is an au me and @diableriezer have been working on for quite a long time, and I figured there's no better time to talk about an AU focused on rebuilding ones life than on the day it ended.

the basic premise is that after getting out of prison alive and well, Bronco worries about what he's going to do, now that he has no company take him, only to learn that the word got out about an "unkillable bodyguard" who just got out of prison and is looking for a job.

it's probably Kanis' doing. that and, after all, Bronco is still young, even more hardened by prison life, not to mention that he survived both Shelly and LaGuarde. that IS something deserving of praise.

he gets a lot of offers immediately. not legal ones, of course - guarding drug and arms dealers, money-laundering facilities, probably even traffickers. but one in particular catches his eye.

Tender Lender Awaits the Knight.

the enigmatic and terrifying Viola Cadaverini is a force to be reckoned with trapped in a frail body, and he immediately knows that she is a powerful woman, despite, or because of her small stance. she really reminds him of the one he loves

their relationship starts with respect and a bond of two "undead souls" and continues to steadily grow into something full of trust and unconditional, dogged loyalty.

the first few panels had been drawn months ago, which is why they look different. the crux of the dialogue is based on @diableriezer's idea of cowboys burying their dogs with themselves so they'd follow them to the afterlife.

enjoy!

it is rushed because life got in the way, but I hope it's enjoyable nontheless. best believe I'll be coming back to this dynamic in the future!

[skyfallscotland]

at every table (i'll save you a seat)

"All this power does is take. I feel like one of them."

Violet & Sloane talk signets, grief, and saving the world 🖤

(for @empyreanevents Sloane Week 2025)

Read here, or on AO3 ✨

"Dain says you're refusing to train your signet." It's probably not the best opening line to get her to talk to me—a little too combative, given our history—but Sloane's a pretty straightforward girl; I figure it's better to just get to the point.

"Dain needs to mind his own damn business," the blonde huffs, giving me a filthy look, though for once I think it's perhaps not meant for me.

"Technically, you are Dain's business." I shrug. "He's your wingleader, in case you forgot."

Sloane snorts. "Like that means anything."

My eyes narrow. "It means he deserves your respect." She can disrespect me all she likes, but Dain has been bending over backwards to try and help her. The least she can do is try and work with him—for her own benefit.

"I'm never going to respect the man who got my brother killed," Sloane snaps. "Never. I don't care that he's your childhood friend or whatever," she says derisively. "He's an ass."

My lips quirk up in a nostalgic smile. I remember thinking the exact same thing about my wingleader once and look where it got me. I refrain from telling Sloane that though, knowing it will only make her more reticent. "Alright," I concede, "will you let me help you?"

She finally deigns to look at me properly, turning her body where she sits on the hillside. "There's nothing to help." Her voice is soft, quiet in a way I haven't heard since Visia's passing six months ago. "All this power does is take. I feel like one of them." Her throat closes over the last word.

"You're not," I reassure her immediately. "Sloane, you're nothing like them. You haven't taken from—"

"Yet!" she whispers in an angry, terrified hush. "You don't know what it's like Violet. I can feel it all around me—the energy. It would be so easy to just…not stop. To keep going and take and take." She heaves a shaky breath, blue eyes bright with the sheen of tears.

I pause, considering my next words carefully. "I know what it's like to be out of control—to feel like your anger could get the best of you at any moment and if it does…people will die." I reach out a hand, carefully placing my fingers over hers where they rest on her knee. "I hated my signet when I got it." I reveal. "I thought it was only destruction, that it meant I was…bad." I force the word out.

Sloane swallows hard. "You don't think that anymore?"

I shake my head. "No. Without it, the people I love would be dead. Without yours the people I love would be dead." She needs to understand.

Sloane blinks, a single tear falling from her lashes as she gazes down at me. "A person you love is dead because of mine."

My nose burns and I try to keep my face blank as I reckon with the reminder. I manage it—I've had lots of practice. It's a carefully crafted mask I've slipped on the last few months, the one of a strong, unaffected warrior who knows her mother's death was for a greater purpose—who doesn't cry in the bath at night or feel like her chest has caved in whenever she sees a Brown in passing. At this point, the mask is more of a constant than the truth.

"My mother chose to die." Blessedly, my voice doesn't shake. "She chose to die for the sake of her country and more importantly, for the lives of her children. You are just the tool she used to do it and for that I am so, so sorry Sloane." I slip my fingers between hers, tightening my grip before she can pull away.

"Without her sacrifice we would all be dead, but it was you who made her choice possible. Without your signet we wouldn't be sitting here right now," I emphasise. "This is your power Sloane. You will be the one to control it, should you choose to and if you do…you'll save lives."

Her lips turn down, her expression crumpling slightly. "I hate it, Violet." She whispers. "I hate it so much. Why couldn't I get farsight, like Liam?"

I carefully shuffle closer, tentatively sliding my arm around her waist. "I wanted to be a mender like Brennan," I admit, "but we don't get to choose our paths in life, Sloane, and the gods decided we were meant for something more."

I don't think it's a coincidence that riders have been manifesting stronger, rarer, more explosive signets over the last few years. When I look around at those I call friends, I see a wealth of powerful signets—the kind essential to winning a war. Whether it's Dunne or Zihnal we need to thank, I believe we have these powers for a reason; the gods rarely make mistakes.

“You might not like it," I whisper, lips tilting upward slightly, "you might even loathe it…but it’s power like yours that saves lives.” Sloane's lower lip trembles. She looks about as convinced as I was when Xaden delivered the same line to me.

"You know…I miss my mum a lot," I whisper, voice cracking as I force the words out. "She wasn't like…this really present figure in my life—sometimes I even thought she hated me—but she…I do miss her." Sloane peers down at her boots. "Sometimes if it's raining I'll just…let my power loose, so it looks like a storm outside. It helps me feel closer to her, given, you know…"

Sloane bites down hard on her lip.

"I like to think it's partly due to her that the universe gave me this power." I study Sloane contemplatively. "Have you ever read Major Sisneros' A Study on Signets?"

She blinks and I take that as a no.

"Your mother was a runes master, right?"

The blonde's brow furrows. "That's not a thing." She informs me. "But…yes. She was excellent with runes. Probably the best in all of Tyrrendor, not that many people studied the art." Because Navarre all but outlawed it.

"Xaden told me." I smile gently. "Major Sisneros says the art of imbuing comes naturally to only a handful of signets, and automatically only to one: the siphon." I shrug. "Your mother proved just how pivotal runes can be. The rebellion relics she created have saved our lives and been instrumental in the second phase of this revolution."

Sloane fiddles with her long braid, still staring at her boots.

"So it seems to me, that if you train that feeling you're so scared of, hone it until you're the one in control—you could do things your mother only dreamed of and win us this war in the process." Finally, she meets my eyes again. "Being a siphon is not a curse, Sloane. It's a gift."

She smiles self-deprecatingly. "I don't think I could ever live up to her."

"You helped save thousands of people a few months ago," I point out. "I think you already have." And maybe now, instead of seeing her signet as a curse, she'll see it as a way to feel closer to her mother, just like I do.

"The gods saw Evelyn Mairi's daughter, thought about what her mother could do, and Amari said 'I'll do you one better'."

Sloane finally laughs, a bright, joyous sound that has my chest constricting in an instant. "You're ridiculous." She shakes her head.

"I'm right," I correct, "and because I'm right, I'm going to need you to stop being so impudent with Dain.”

Her laughter stops in an instant. "Fuck off."

"He's trying to help," I insist. "I'm not asking you to cuddle up to him"—her cheeks flush—"I'm just asking you to be respectful when needed and actually follow the chain of command." I lift a brow at the deepening red of her cheeks. Interesting.

"You don't have to forgive him." I promise at her continued silence. "I would never ask that of you, but you do need to work together. When we go into battle"—because it's when at this point, not if—"you'll need to follow his orders."

She purses her lips, glancing at me disdainfully. Looking like she's sucked on a lemon, she finally relents. "Whatever," she shakes her head. "I suppose if I have to risk killing anyone, it may as well be him."

I pause, frowning. Should I be concerned about that? I think about it for all of a moment before shrugging my shoulders. He does kind of deserve to be given a hard time, especially by her.

"That's the spirit!" I pat the back of her hand.

I'll think about the potential seriousness of that another time. Maybe tomorrow.

"Hey, Vi?" Sloane murmurs, staring into the distance, "I'm not sorry I gave you a hard time last year"—I snort—"but I'm glad we're friends now."

Friends? My heart warms.

"I'm glad we're friends too, Sloane."

[fourgods-nobrakes]

Summer Fest is here! I'm nominating a bunch of things from relatively rare bits of canon, but perhaps one of you would like to read one of these things and get to know some of these characters. I'm not discussing the Black Legion or Fabius Bile books, because you already know about those (read them read them read them they have great ensemble casts, please ship some of the less common pairs with me), but here are some of the less-discussed ones:

Harrowmaster, by Mike Brooks: Solomon Akurra is an Alpha Legionnaire who wants to see his Legion become a force to be reckoned with again. He has some plans to give them a reason to rally around him, and he has a very cool ex-imperial psyker on his side, which is good because he also has a number of enemies both within the Legion and otherwise. Fun twisty plot and an excellent read for people who enjoy when an Astartes has a solid working partnership with a mortal ally; she's capable, dangerous, and very willing to give him shit when he needs it. There's also a secret bonus ship option that I don't want to talk about too much because of important plot turning points, but it hit me hard in the brotherhood and trust places.

Shroud of Night, by Andy Clark: the Unsung are a small Alpha Legion warband who've been in a warzone for long enough to develop a wide variety of I Can't Believe It's Not PTSD. Now they have a mission to perform a high-stakes reverse heist, delivering a mortal to a key location on an embattled planet while trying not to get killed by either the imperial defenders or the Khornate berserkers besieging the place—and, of course, trying not to fall apart from the growing tensions among the team. I'm here for the poor mortal, who has clearly never gotten the hugs he needs, but there are a variety of cool dynamics among the group. ...Followers of either Celestine's or Khârn's careers should know they both turn up here, though they're both mostly here to be terrifying forces of nature that our lads try not to get killed by.

"Sacred Hate," short story by David Annandale: Mr. Annandale wrote this story for me specifically, I'm pretty sure. It centers on Cerastes, a teenager who's in training to be a missionary for the Ecclesiarchy, but who's been privately having a crisis of faith. Then the ship he's traveling on gets attacked by Word Bearers, and he discovers what he was looking for. (Spoilers: it's not the God-Emperor's light.)

The Red Tithe, by Robbie MacNiven: A Carcharodons company and a Night Lords warband walk into a bar prison planet... They're both looking to replenish their numbers from the teenage boys in the prison. And a psyker on each side has divined that one of the boys is an unsanctioned psyker whose power could be very useful if they can secure him. The boy in question just hopes he can get out alive. This one's definitely dark; the Carcharodons might be on the imperial side but they're brutal in ways that are usually glossed over for their compatriots. Most of the story takes place in the prison complex and the attached mines, so the whole thing feels claustrophobic at times. MacNiven also cares more about tactics than a lot of BL authors, so the battles are more interesting than "we charge into a hail of gunfire, fearless and unstoppable." Grim but very cool.

Day of Ascension, by Adrian Tchaikovsky: If you've read his other work you know he's interested in, and sympathetic toward, non-human POVs, and thus you know why I'm so fond of this book. It takes place on a forge world where the miserable living conditions of the non-Mechanicus work force have provided fertile ground for the growth of a genestealer cult. The cover blurb suggests that the power plays among the tech priests are the central plot, but actually the emotional core of the book is Davien, a young woman in the cult who is coming into her strength as the arrival of the cult's "angels" draws near, and whose passion for her people will wind up being key to their future. My big ship for this one doesn't sail until late in the book, but man, when it happens, it's so good.

[mischievous-hermione]

It’s always exhilarating to read a story where Hermione is the one who captures or enslaves Malfoy in her vast, ancient manor — not the other way around. We have plenty of fics with High Reeve allure, but far fewer where Hermione is the cold-hearted reckoning. Changing the perspective like this feels quiet refreshing. Therefore at your service this incredible fic In Her Image by grangerette.

Five years after the war, convicted Death Eaters are auctioned off — a “mercy” alternative to the Dementor’s Kiss. Draco Malfoy expects to be the most expensive lot. After all, he was Dumbledore’s assassin. But the wizarding world is stunned when Hermione Granger steps forward to purchase her former bully and worst enemy. But is that truly her intent?

Over the years, Hermione has become a magical tech mogul, transforming herself into a force to be reckoned with. She doesn’t just run a company anymore — she runs the Country, just from the shadows. She isn’t playing the Ministry’s game; she’s building her own. She’s not a piece on the board — she is the board. And that terrifies the system. She’s now the greatest threat to the new corrupt regime, and they’ll stop at nothing to annihilate her.

When Draco sees Hermione again, he doesn’t see a do-gooder or a self-assured, beautiful witch — he sees a cold-blooded war strategist who always wins. She wins because the people who follow her never flinch. They don’t question, hesitate, or protest — they simply act.

And for the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy truly understands what power looks like.

It looks like her.

This is a dark story, but it ends with Dramione endgame. What makes it so impactful is that loyalty here isn’t gained through fear, but through belief — the belief that you can be worth saving. That power, like love, only matters when it costs you something.

A haunting, powerful, and beautifully philosophical piece.

Let me know what you think about this fanfiction — see you soon!

Link to the fic In Her Image by grangerate:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64836994/chapters/166632880

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

So, now that the DLC is out, I was wondering if I could request a part two to the pokepasta trainer reader? Like them and their team meeting Carmine, Kieran, and Perrin?

Oooo yeah!! I'm guessing you meant this post (being part 1). I'm honestly impressed by the notes ghshghsh but I'm glad ya'll love the pokepasta!reader <333

Gonna format these as hcs if that's okay

.........

Carmine

She's seen tourists bring in weird Pokémon, but you brought the scariest ones she's ever seen in her life.

She sends out her Poochyena to do battle, thinking she can intimidate you....and she SCREAMS when your Freakachu comes out to play.

It's loud enough for all to hear and for the caretaker to arrive and prematurely end the fight.

Well, at least she finally got off your back before things could get too heated.

Kieran was shocked though bc his sister was usually so brave.

During your time in Kitakami, she's just going to,,,,stare at your Pokémon team, especially when you introduce her to Purin and Disabled (she definitely thinks they're some weird gray regional variants and nothing more)

She's extremely confused as to why you named your Wigglytuff after a status move.

And Missingno.....is something she can't even begin to wrap her brain around, but she buys the story of it being from a really old Kantonian myth. That's something she can 100% believe.

After meeting Ogerpon and learning she's been misunderstood all along, Carmine slowly realizes she may have treated your Pokémon the same way.

They've been through some horrible things, and she was quick to judge them, so she apologizes for that.

Although Freakachu's smiles still creep her out..she's friendlier towards Purin and Disabled (not that she'll ever admit this, ofc).

Kieran

Like Carmine, he's gonna be pretty spooked by how your Pokémon team looks, at first.

But considering he never thought the Ogre was scary. he's nowhere near as judgmental.

During your walks together and at dinner, you explained where your 'mons came from--or at least the short and least terrifying versions of those tales so you didn't freak him out too much..

He's just fascinated that you've gone out of your way to help them despite their reputations as "monsters".

He hopes to one day have a strong bond like that with his team, or Ogerpon.

Tbh he found it really sweet when you purchased a Pikachu mask for Freakachu to wear so he could visit the festival of masks without scaring anybody.

Missingno was, understandably, the most bizarre Pokémon Kieran has ever seen, but once you explained how it's an old Kantonian myth...he's like "wowzers..that's so cool!!"

He genuinely believes you and him have a lot in common: being outcasts and adoring Pokémon most people were afraid of.

So it's even more heartbreaking for him when Ogerpon ultimately chooses to go with you instead of him.

Despite your team being utterly terrifying, she felt more comfortable being by their side...and it doesn't make sense to him at all.

It just doesn't seem fair.

He envies how your Missingno can pretty much give you whatever items you wanted--and an infinite number of them, too.

You warned him that it's not something you messed around with (plus, it corrupted an old friend of yours long ago), but he didn't care about any of that.

He wanted to know how to harness that power.

Maybe when he becomes even stronger, he'll challenge you again...

And the winner got to keep Missingno.

Perrin

She thought the Bloodmoon Beast was a terrifying and ominous force to be reckoned with, especially in the photograph she obtained.

But what you had on your team was nothing short of both amazing...and downright horrifying.

She assumes Freakachu, Purin, and Disabled are some Pikachu, Jigglypuff, and Wigglytuff variants she's never heard about or have gone extinct.

Maybe like Bloodmoon Ursaluna, they were from a distant land or some time period.

So she keeps an open mind and convinces them to do some cool poses (despite her Hisuian Growlithe always hiding behind her, tail tucked between its legs, and being certain that Purin's stare is gonna haunt her dreams now).

The only one she's heard of before was Missingno, having once believed it to be a myth from Kanto...and now she can see that it's real! And it's in your possession!

She wants a photo of it. Not for any sort of recognition or accolade, but as proof in the books that it's legit.

Unfortunately, while she can see it glitching, changing forms, spawning items for you, etc. right before her very eyes...it never shows up on camera.

Every photo she attempts to take gets corrupted or lost in the developing process.

You politely have to ask Perrin to stop before she breaks her camera.

She is, however, free to photograph your other Pokémon as they are in their natural state (aka acting like their normal counterparts and not creatures that really should've been dead long ago).

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (30) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 

chapter summary: coriolanus begins to mourn what he thinks he has lost. 

word count: 1,329

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: a hint of angst, pet name (petal), not proofread

Sejanus would not leave him be. It was grating on Coriolanus’s nerves, if he was being honest. Both his and the cat’s. It did, however, bring him some joy that the cat would hiss at Sejanus every time he came into the room. Oh, how his former friend flinched like he was being attacked! It is what he deserved. How dare he be here. How dare he come. His petal was stubborn, but if Sejanus was so concerned about her, he should have written Coriolanus himself. How could he trust that Sejanus was being truthful when he communicated with his wife in secret? 

Coriolanus cradled his daughter, your daughter, in his arms. The wet nurse, a woman that Sejanus had said was married to a general at the nearby Peacekeeper base, had brought her in moments ago. A part of Coriolanus felt sick looking down at her. Something so sweet looking, so  innocent, had played a part in all of this strife. Another part of this made Coriolanus all the more aware that she was truly your daughter. A force to be reckoned with.  

“What happened that day?” Coriolanus asked as Sejanus brought in another tray of food.

He hesitated. “Are you certain you wish to know?”

Coriolanus only nodded. 

And Sejanus told him. Of how the two of you had been talking. How you were alone in the cottage, which you had come to call Thorn’s Grove. Sejanus had gathered that you and the King were on the outs, but not the degree to which it was. The last letter he had received had been simple, short—that you missed your husband. Sejanus didn’t expect to hear from you again. But when the Royal Physician sent word that an extra set of hands was needed for a birth—utmost discretion necessary for whomever volunteered—Sejanus jumped at the opportunity. While Coriolanus may not trust him, Sejanus knew he would trust any other person even less. The blood was awful when he arrived. The cottage stunk of it as soon as he stepped inside. And, God, he had never seen you more terrified. You kept yelling for your Coryo, begging for someone to bring him to you. No matter how much you were reminded that word had been sent to your Coryo, you never stopped begging. And then those shouts were replaced by the cries of a babe. You had fallen silent. Silent you still were. 

And silent Coriolanus had become. He was such a fool, and so were you. Stubborn as oxen. A match made in hell. Coriolanus knew he did not make this easy for you. He was terrified of losing you. He held on too tight until you were pushing him away. And you, you never stopped pushing. Even when the loneliness ate you alive and all you wished for was him at your side, you never let him come back. He would have, if you asked. He would have come running the day you left the Palace, and maybe he should have. But a bitter part of the King wanted to see you suffer. To realize, on your own, that you were better off by his side. 

“It’s like a self-fulfilling prophecy,” he whispered to the baby. She only wiggled in her tightly wrapped blanket. “I tried so hard to stop you from taking her, that it happened anyway.”

“You are not a god, Coryo,” Sejanus said. “There is nothing you could have done to prevent this.”

“No,” he agreed, “but I could have been here. If those were her final moments, I should not have left her so scared.”

“No. You should not have.” Sejanus gestured at the doorway. “Come, let’s go for a walk. It would be good for you.”

Coriolanus held his daughter up so she faced the rose bushes. Her little eyes were shut, the sun too blinding for her, but he liked the act of showing her his life, as thorny as it was beautiful. “I charmed your mother with these roses,” he said to her. “All those years ago. She never knew it was me.”

Sejanus looked at him with his furrowed brows. “When did you begin courting her?” he asked. 

“We were fourteen. I knew I loved her from our very first fight. I loved that about her—that she would never stay quiet for someone else’s comfort. I gave her a rose from our family garden. Grandma’am protected those roses with her life. They were the only sign of wealth we had left, save for the ring I proposed to my petal with. She almost didn’t give me one. It wasn’t until I told her it was for the woman I intended to marry that she allowed it.I wish they got to meet. They would have had a fun time arguing together.” Coriolanus sighed, ran a finger down his daughter’s little nose. “I wish you got to meet her, too. She would have loved to see the Snow legacy continue. She would have loved you. And your mother does, too. She will love you more than anything.”

“Have you picked out a name for her yet?”

A clear attempt to get Coriolanus’s mind off of you. He did that often. Whenever he steered too far into the sadness of what transpired, his friend would pull him the other way ever so slightly. As much as Coriolanus tired of Sejanus’s constant presence, it was doing good for his mind to have a person to talk to. “When we learned she was pregnant, we lamented for weeks about what to name our child. Apollo, for a boy, because she brought sunshine into my life. For a girl, she picked out Persephone.”

Sejanus raised a brow. “The goddess who was trapped in hell for half the year?”

“The goddess who took the hand of the god of death and happily went to hell with him to rule by his side. The goddess whose choice of who to love brought spring for all of Earth. That was her reasoning, at least.”

A smile tugged at Sejanus’s lips. “A true romantic, wasn’t she?”

“I don’t know how I feel about her comparing me to the god of death, but the sentiment was nice,” Coriolanus admitted. “Sometimes I think she knew more about her fate than I did.”

“She loved you, Coryo.”

“I know. She shouldn’t have, but she did.” Coriolanus looked over at Sejanus, who was pretending to admire the roses. “I should have let her run away with you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.”

“She would still be alive if she did.”

“She’s alive now,” Sejanus said, forceful but gentle, “and you were right. We would have been miserable on the run from you and the Peacekeepers. She would hate being away from all the things she loved. And for as much as she acted like she hated you, you would have hated being away from your stubborn ass even more.”

“Watch your language around my child,” Coriolanus snapped. 

“I only mean that, for as brilliant as she is, it is easily to confuse hate and love when passion fuels them both. She enjoyed the fight, Coryo. She liked the way you never gave in just as much as you do.”

Coriolanus shook his head. “It matters not now.”

Sejanus all but rolled his eyes. If it was anyone else, it had even been Sejanus doing this mere months ago, Coriolanus would have had their head. But he allowed a carefully constructed alliance to be formed in the absence of you, so he ignored the action. “Where is the man who threatened to send me to the gallows? That is the man who should be here for his wife, not this sorry excuse of a King.”

He looked to the window, cracked open to allow you some air. “That man lays with her. Perhaps he always will.”

A loud, familiar scream echoed through the grounds, reminding Coriolanus to never doubt you.

[beauttifullife]

Reckoning with Regret

But the other Agatha wasn’t done. Her voice rose again, raw and hysterical, each word lashing out like a weapon, her grief, her desperation, needing an outlet—and Rio had always been her favorite target.

“You don’t deserve him, Rio! If you’re giving up on him this easily, you don’t deserve to be a mother—”

Something inside Agatha snapped.

Her blood boiled, rage igniting in her chest like wildfire. She couldn’t listen to it anymore, not even from her own past self. She let go of Rio, stepping forward, positioning herself between the other Agatha and Rio, as if her very presence could block the assault—even though she knew the other Agatha couldn’t see her—could walk right through her if she wanted.

“ENOUGH!” Agatha roared, her voice shaking the air.

Magic crackled, flaring violently around her. It wasn’t hers she realized—it was Rio’s magic, a fierce, storm-like energy that pulsed through the room, powerful and electric, like a lightning storm ready to strike. It danced across Agatha’s skin, charging the air with raw intensity.

The other Agatha flinched, stumbling back, her hands flying up to shield her eyes from the sheer force of it. And then, slowly, cautiously, she lowered her arms, her eyes wide with terror. She stared ahead, confusion and fear etched into every feature as her gaze landed on Agatha—really landed on her.

She could see her.

For the first time, the other Agatha could see her.

The room hung in a suffocating silence, the storm of magic still crackling in the air as Agatha stood tall, her chest rising and falling rapidly, trying to hold onto control. Her heart raced, her fury curling through her veins like molten fire.

The other Agatha stumbled back, her rage fading, confusion and fear creeping into her eyes as she looked at Agatha standing before her.

“What—what is happening?” she stammered, her voice trembling. “Who are you?”

Agatha's shoulders heaved with barely contained rage, the emotions roiling inside her, threatening to explode. She took a slow, deliberate step forward, her gaze fixed on the terrified version of herself.

“I am you,” Agatha growled, her voice low and dangerous. She could feel Rio’s magic buzzing beneath her skin, but it was her need to protect that truly gave her strength. “And if you say one more word to her… just one more thing…”

She stepped even closer, her eyes burning with a fury that had been simmering for centuries.

“I promise you, I will rip out your heart with my bare fucking hands.”

The threat hung in the air like a blade, and the other Agatha, wide-eyed and trembling, took another shaky step back. The magic around them crackled louder, the tension in the room palpable, and in that moment, Agatha knew—she was in control now.

Rio’s soft exhale behind her was the only sound, a fragile reminder of what they were fighting for, of the love that still lingered beneath the layers of hurt and anger.

And Agatha wasn’t going to let anyone—not even herself—destroy that.

"She—" the other Agatha stammered, her voice faltering as the rage and certainty drained away, leaving only confusion and fear.

"She is your wife!" Agatha roared, cutting her off with a voice filled with fury. "She has walked by your side, supported you, built you up into the witch you are today! She has never doubted you—not once! She has followed you into flames and storms, on your reckless, senseless missions! She has saved you! Loved you! And never—never—left your side, even when you deserved it!"

The other Agatha flinched, visibly recoiling from the raw, unfiltered truth. Agatha could feel the weight of every word hitting her past self like a hammer, shattering the defenses she had built around her pain.

"Nicky—she won't—" the other Agatha tried, grasping desperately for some justification, something to hold on to, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

"She is his mother, you idiot!" Agatha hissed, stepping closer, her voice dripping with venom. "You grew him, yes, but her magic made him! She is his mother just as much as you are! From the moment he took his first breath, she was there! Every babble, every sleepless night, his first word, his first steps—everything! She was right there beside you—beside him!"

The fury surged in Agatha’s voice as she leaned in, her eyes locked on the terrified version of herself.

"She loves that boy with the same all-consuming fire that you do. She would never let anything happen to him. You know that!"

The other Agatha stood frozen, her breath shallow, her eyes wide as the truth of those words crashed into her. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The accusations she had thrown at Rio suddenly felt hollow, like crumbling ashes in the face of the truth she couldn’t deny.

"You’ve never doubted her before—never!" Agatha pressed on, her voice unwavering. "You know she would burn the whole fucking world for him! She would never let anything happen to him!"

The room seemed to tremble with the force of Agatha’s words, her fury filling the space, leaving the other Agatha trembling, speechless, and powerless beneath the weight of her own guilt.

"Listen to her," Agatha said, her voice no longer a roar but a quiet, firm warning. It wasn’t anger now, but something softer—something more desperate. “She told you she can’t save him. She has never lied to you. She has always told you the brutal truth—even when you didn’t want to hear it.”

The other Agatha stood frozen, her eyes darting between Rio and the version of herself standing in front of her, tears welling in her eyes as reality began to set in.

Agatha took in a ragged breath, her voice trembling with the weight of the truth she had fought so long to avoid.

"She is telling you—she can’t save him,” Agatha whispered, her own tears finally breaking free as her chest tightened with the unbearable pain. “Stop blaming her.”

Her voice cracked, breaking under the emotional strain. She wiped her eyes quickly, but the tears kept coming, her heart aching as she stared at her past self.

“It’s not her fault,” Agatha cried, her voice shaking.

Agatha felt the words leave her, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, the weight she had carried for centuries—the anger, the guilt, the blame—began to loosen its grip. Each word was like a release, a crack in the iron walls she had built around her heart.

It wasn’t just for Rio.

It was for her.

She had needed to say it, to feel it.

Her chest rose and fell with deep, shaky breaths, but with each one, there was a sense of catharsis, of healing. The raw, jagged edges of her grief softened as the truth settled between them, like a balm on a wound that had never fully closed.

“She didn’t fail us,” Agatha repeated, her voice quieter now, filled with a kind of clarity she hadn’t known she needed. “She didn’t fail him.”

[vindicated-truth]

Hyeok downs the drink in one abrupt toss of his head. He slams the glass down harshly, rattling the counter and startling the bartender minding his own business at the other side of the bar.

Beside him, Jeongje glowers at him. “You really must be a favored patron at this bar if you’re not scared of destroying their property like this.” Jeongje frowns at the glass that somehow manages to not shatter at the way Hyeok is gripping it tightly. “Or get kicked out.”

Hyeok ignores him and grabs the expensive whiskey bottle he had just purchased without thinking it through, just for this moment. He refills Jeongje’s glass—technically he is the maknae between them—and as Jeongje warily sips at his own drink, Hyeok runs his hands over his face at the hysterical realization that he’s sharing a moment like this with Park Jeongje, of all people.

His rival to Lee Yuyeon’s heart.

Beside him, Jeongje is watching the amber liquid swirl around the fancy ball-shaped ice, his gaze darting nervously between his own glass and at Hyeok, like a skittish weasel.

It’s beginning to grate on Hyeok’s nerves, and he pours another shot for himself.

Jeongje loudly clears his throat. “So. Do we agree not to tell Yuyeon-ah about this?”

Hyeok squeezes his eyes shut. And there is the crux of the matter, isn’t it.

“Tell me what?”

Both men jump at that familiar, beloved voice. It’s almost comical, the way they both swivel in unison on their seats to see the mutual object of their affections standing behind them, one hand on her hip, staring at them with an arched, perfectly-plucked eyebrow.

The top law graduate of Seoul National University, a force to be reckoned with at Hyeok’s law firm, the ex-girlfriend Jeongje is trying very hard to win back at the same time that Hyeok is trying to win her over—while trying win over her, as they’re currently going head to head in this corporate case where he represents the prosecution, and she represents the defendant.

None of that, however, is what’s making both Jeongje and himself a lot more terrified of her than usual.

Yuyeon narrows her eyes at them as she sets her briefcase on the counter and gracefully slides on the seat beside Hyeok. Normally Hyeok would be thrilled to have her in such close proximity, and would gloat over the way she has chosen his side of the seat to settle on instead of Jeongje’s, but right now, he wishes very much that Jeongje’s the one who’s going to have to deal with—all of this.

After all, Jeongje should have more experience dealing with—all of that.

Yuyeon motions to the bartender. “I’ll have a glass please,” she says sweetly, and Hyeok can see the bartender absolutely melting at the twin powers of her angelic beauty and her formidable presence. “I’ll share in whatever they’re having.” She tilts her head at the bottle of whiskey Hyeok and Jeongje are sharing between them.

She smiles and thanks the bartender for the chilled and iced glass she’s been given. She then turns to Hyeok. “Well?”

Jeongje nudges Hyeok meaningfully. Hyeok swallows and fills Yuyeon’s glass, hoping she doesn’t see how much his hands are shaking.

“Something’s up with the two of you,” Yuyeon declares without preamble as she sips and peers at them over the rim of her glass, and damn it why does this woman whom Hyeok helplessly loves beyond measure have to be so god damned smart?

Jeongje’s forced laugh sounds fake even to Hyeok’s own ears, and it makes him cringe. “Come on, Yuyeon-ah, what makes you say that?”

“Well,” Yuyeon sets her glass down on the counter—gently, primly, completely opposed to how Hyeok nearly broke the countertop earlier. “For one thing, right now the two of you are together.”

Jeongje frowns and straightens in his seat. “How is that supposed to be an issue?”

Yuyeon snorts. “Considering how the two of you constantly try to one-up each other to even tolerate being even in the same room together, let alone sharing a drink like this—” she stares pointedly at the twin glasses they’ve both been nursing for awhile now, “—is enough evidence for suspicion, Your Honor,” she adds playfully, winking at them.

Jeongje, the traitor, looks absolutely charmed, and Hyeok takes advantage of Jeongje’s distraction for his own opening. “Captain Park and I have come to an agreement, you see.”

Jeongje blinks. “We have?”

Hyeok turns to glare at him. “Yes. We have.”

“I see,” Yuyeon says dubiously as she crosses her legs, distracting both men momentarily with the smoothness of her skin peeking from beneath her pencil skirt. “And what agreement might that be?”

“Yes, Prosecutor Kwon,” Jeongje props his chin on his palm and smiles innocently at Hyeok. “What agreement are you talking about?”

Hyeok is sorely tempted to bash the whole bottle of whiskey over the head of this stupid ex of Yuyeon’s. Instead, he pastes on his courtroom-ready smile. “Captain Park and I have agreed to desist this frankly immature rivalry between us.”

Yuyeon’s eyebrows fly to her hairline at the same time that the smile completely drops from Jeongje’s face. “And why exactly,” Jeongje says slowly, his eyes narrowed at Hyeok, “have we come to this agreement?”

Hyeok turns to Yuyeon and clasps his hands in front of him on the countertop. “I believe it was that college girl, Kang Minjeong-ssi, who called both Captain Park and I, and may I quote: ‘A pair of juvenile schoolboys fighting each other over a girl as a stupid trophy’.”

“Because she’s right,” Yuyeon says wryly. “You are. And I’m not.”

“No, Yuyeon-ah,” Hyeok hears Jeongje speak up softly from behind him, and Hyeok knows without a doubt that Jeongje sincerely means it. “You’re not a prize to be won.”

It seems to have startled Yuyeon, her gaze softening in return, and while normally Hyeok would be bitterly seething with jealousy by now at the irreplaceable and unbeatable history between Yuyeon and Jeongje, at the moment Hyeok is inwardly, triumphantly celebrating at how Yuyeon is successfully distracted.

Jeongje seems to have finally caught on too, as he is quick to add, “So that is why Prosecutor Kwon and I have decided to just let you graciously decide who is the better man between both of us.”

Hyeok is about to nod in agreement, when Jeongje just has to purr: “I trust you know who is the more worthy man for you, Yuyeon-ah.”

Hyeok slowly turns to look at Jeongje. I am this close to punching you in the face, he strongly broadcasts his thoughts telepathically.

Jeongje’s smile is radiant. I’d like to see you try to punch a cop, is the telepathic answer.

Yuyeon’s loud gasp pierces through Hyeok’s burgeoning violent thoughts. Both he and Jeongje turn to face her—and they both blink at the way both of Yuyeon’s hands are clasped over her mouth, which has dropped open in shock.

“Oh,” she says like it’s some sort of epiphany, leaving both men entirely nonplussed. “Oh I should have known the two of you seem to hate each other just a little too much.”

Sometimes Hyeok is starkly reminded of how so far ahead Yuyeon’s brilliant mind works when he can’t catch up to her thoughts like this. It’s both extremely frustrating and wildly attractive in the courtroom. “What?”

Yuyeon smooths her hands over her skirt—and wow okay that is very distracting to Hyeok—as she straightens, her features seemingly overcome with a strange sort of… determination?

“I want you both to know that I will never let this affect your careers,” Yuyeon declares firmly. “Both of you are admirable, respectable men in each of your field of work and I will do my best to protect that.”

Hyeok stares blankly at her. He may not be a bonafide genius like Lee Yuyeon, but he has never considered himself lacking in the brains department either, and normally at this point he’s caught up to her by now. It’s what makes their courtroom banter so enjoyable.

This time, Hyeok is completely, utterly lost.

“What the hell are you talking about, Yuyeon-ah?” Jeongje bursts out from behind him, and for the umpteenth time in this topsy-turvy day, Hyeok finds himself agreeing with Captain Park.

There’s a flash of seemingly well-meaning but confusing sympathy that crosses Yuyeon’s eyes. “I know the laws of our country are still adamantly conservative, but we’re slowly making progress, little by little.” She brightens, her tone turning eager. “Just last month, the South Korean Supreme Court affirmed that same-sex couples are entitled to the same health benefits as heterosexual couples.”

Hyeok stares at her in horror. He can’t even speak.

“Oh my god,” Jeongje breathes out entirely in English, and once again, Hyeok absolutely concurs.

“You can register each other as dependents on your respective health insurances,” Yuyeon is saying, completely misreading the twin looks of shock and utter disgust both Hyeok and Jeongje are sending her way. “I’m pretty sure it’ll be covered by our firm, Hyeok-ah, I’m just not sure with the police force how it works—”

“Yuyeon-ah—” Jeongje helplessly tries to interject.

“—but our country’s actual law enforcement agency can’t deny basic rights to its own citizens, let alone its own policemen—”

Hyeok’s voice is increasingly turning high-pitched in desperation. “Attorney Lee—noona—”

“—regardless, you have my word that I fully support you in your—”

“We’re not the ones who are gay!”

That finally stops Yuyeon in her tracks. Hyeok’s and Jeongje’s twin outbursts finally catch her full attention—as well as those of the few remaining patrons in the bar.

Hyeok scowls at the bartender, who looks way too invested in their conversation. “I’ll pay you an extra huge tip for you to shut the hell up.”

The bartender grins, gives them a thumbs up, and turns his attention back to the same wine glass he’s been cleaning for several minutes now—right when Yuyeon first arrived.

Hyeok glares. “I will also require you to sign an NDA.”

The bartender shrugs and finally walks away—but not too far that he isn’t within earshot.

There’s a loud thunk beside Hyeok, which is the sound of Jeongje’s forehead hitting the counter. “I hate you all,” Jeongje mumbles under his breath, and right now, Hyeok is inclined to agree with him on everything.

Instead of being deterred however, true to her reputation as the woman who can’t be moved in court, Yuyeon is swift to recalibrate. “Then who is?”

Jeongje blearily lifts his head to stare balefully at Yuyeon. “What?”

Yuyeon narrows her eyes. “If the two of you aren’t the ones in a gay relationship—”

“Oh for the love of—Captain Park and I are not dating!” Hyeok yells; he catches the bartender snorting before the man wisely turns his back on them, and god damn that NDA needs to be airtight.

“—then who is?”

For several heartbeats, there is only silence as Yuyeon stares back and forth between Hyeok and Jeongje, silently demanding answers. Hyeok opens his mouth.

“His brother.”

Hyeok’s gaze snaps to Jeongje in utter betrayal as the older man simply points back at him.

Yuyeon’s brows furrow. “You have a brother?”

Hyeok turns helplessly back to Yuyeon, who is now frowning at him with her own expression of mild betrayal. “I didn’t know you had a brother, Hyeok-ah.”

“I don’t!” Hyeok instinctively exclaims, before he’s forced to reconsider his next words carefully when Yuyeon merely folds her arms, wordlessly calling him out on his bullshit. It’s partly why he loves her, after all—she never lets him get away with anything. “I mean, he’s not related to me by blood, but he was my ward for so long when I lived in his house that he might as well have been raised by me.”

Yuyeon tilts her head thoughtfully. “Why were you living in his house?”

“I was his tutor. It’s how I got myself through law school.”

Yuyeon raises her eyebrows. “Tutoring pays that well?”

“It does when it’s for the son of the Deputy Commissioner-General,” Jeongje pipes up, helpfully adding the important detail that Hyeok had been trying very hard to avoid disclosing to Yuyeon.

Hyeok is now reminded all over again of why he absolutely hates Captain Park.

“The son of—” Yuyeon’s eyes are wide. “You mean that brat from Foreign Affairs? Han fucking Joowon?”

Hyeok’s mouth drops open in shock. “You know him?” he says in unison once again with Jeongje, and they turn to each other in alarm.

“Know him?” Yuyeon nearly screeches as she slams her palm on the countertop, making both men jump in their seats; neither of them has ever seen Yuyeon this worked up before. “I’m this close to filing a restraining order on him with how often he barges into my office unannounced! I don’t care if he’s the son of the Deputy Commissioner-General, this is abuse of power!”

Jeongje’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Is he harassing you, Yuyeon-ah?”

Yuyeon rolls her eyes at the unwarranted machismo. “Yes, but not in the way you think. This cheeky little prince keeps demanding for the case files I worked on a few months ago, about the Chinese illegal immigrants working as prostitutes in Gangwon and Busan. Said it was for a voice phishing case Foreign Affairs are investigating, but I know for a fact that this sting operation of his isn’t approved by his higher ups.” Yuyeon flips her hair over her shoulder with a frustrated exhale. “Who does he think he is cutting through all protocol and procedure and expecting people to just hand over his demands like he’s entitled to them?” 

“Ah," Hyeok mumbles meekly, "that does sound exactly like my Joowon-ah." He cowers when Yuyeon throws him a withering glare.

“So this pseudo-brother of yours is gay,” Yuyeon recaps once she’s somewhat calmed down. Of course she hasn’t forgotten the topic—once Yuyeon latches on a piece of information, she doesn’t stop until she finds the answer she’s looking for.

Hyeok wonders if Yuyeon is aware that she has more in common with Joowon than she thinks, but then swiftly realizes she might cut off his balls if he points it out, so he wisely remains silent.

He still wants to have children, after all.

She narrows her eyes at Hyeok. “What does that fresh young master have anything to do with me?”

Hyeok’s throat bobs as he swallows and tries his best to maintain eye contact with Yuyeon. When all else fails—plead the fifth.

Yuyeon’s frown deepens when she’s getting nothing out of Hyeok. Jeongje seems to have finally taken pity on him and gently intervenes. “Prosecutor Kwon and I were just discussing his worries over Lieutenant Han. Considering the kind of work being asked of cops like us, it’s not safe for gay men like Lieutenant Han to be out on his own in the field being exposed to all these bad men who might take advantage of him.”

There’s a crease on Yuyeon’s forehead that appears when she’s thoroughly thinking something through. “I understand how that might be concerning, but—” Yuyeon frowns. “Isn’t that kind of homophobic too? The assumption that just because Lieutenant Han is gay, it means he’s not strong enough to protect himself?”

The look Yuyeon is directing to both Jeongje and himself is now judgmental and disapproving, and Hyeok can’t help but admire the fact that, for someone she supposedly hates, Yuyeon is still defending Joowon solely on principle.

She really has much more in common with him than she realizes.

“Besides,” Yuyeon is saying, “it’s not as if he’s out there working alone. I’m pretty sure he has a partner.”

Both Hyeok and Jeongje freeze.

Yuyeon is contemplating deeply now. “Come to think of it, since these cases with the Chinese immigrants are happening concurrently in several regions, the jurisdiction now also falls to the Regional Investigation Unit. Which means—”

Yuyeon stops short. Slowly, she meets Jeongje’s gaze. 

“Which means Lieutenant Han’s partner is most likely… from the RIU.”

From his peripheral vision, Hyeok can see the way Jeongje is starting to panic. Plead the fifth, he telegraphs frantically. Plead the fifth!

Yuyeon’s gaze is piercing as she looks back and forth between the two unlikely men forming an alliance against her. Without breaking eye contact, she reaches for her briefcase, rummages swiftly inside, and takes out her phone. She presses the first number on speed dial.

The other line picks up immediately.

“Uri dongsaengie!”

The unmistakable voice of Lee Dongsik rings cheerfully loud on speaker.

“Ne, uri oppa-ya,” Yuyeon drawls, and oh god, Hyeok recognizes that sickeningly-sweet tone on her.

In court, it means that somebody is about to have a very long conviction or pay a very high fine.

Outside of court—it means someone is about to be in very, very big trouble.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this call from my dear sweet lovely twin sister?”

Hyeok and Jeongje look at each other in mutually shared pity. Lee Dongsik is about to get his ass whooped in three… two…

“Oppa,” Yuyeon says slowly, sweetly—menacingly. “Why is it that it’s my courtroom rival and my ex boyfriend who are the first to be informed that my dear sweet lovely twin brother is gay?”

There’s silence at the end of the line for several long moments. Briefly Hyeok considers adding bearing witness to a murder clause in the NDA.

“So,” Dongsik’s tone is suspiciously bright. “Who do I kill first?”

Hah. Never let it be said that Hyeok isn’t smart enough to anticipate moments like this.

“Park Jeongje, preferably,” Yuyeon remarks airily.

“Duly noted, sis.”

“Yah!” Jeongje exclaims. “Where's the loyalty to your best friend? Why don’t you kill Prosecutor Kwon first?”

They hear a snort from the other end of the line. “I’ll leave that for Joowon-ah to deal with.”

Another silence hangs heavily in the air. Yuyeon’s smile turns lethal.

“… I just gave it away, didn’t I.”

“Oppa.”

Both Jeongje and Hyeok get on their feet as they slowly back away. Of their many, many differences, the one thing they have most in common is how well they know the woman they mutually love.

They know precisely when she’s about to blow.

“When were you gonna TELL ME—!”

“Yuyeon-ah I can explain! Joowon-ah, help me out here—yah, where are you going? I’M ABOUT TO BE MURDERED BY MY OWN TWIN SISTER I NEED A WITNESS—!”

That NDA is going to have a lot of very, very specific clauses.

[emthimofnight]

OKAY SO

I love all your fankids and I have to say that first they're so amazing!!!

But! My fandom brain is ticking and like... According to comics and sonic prime, sonic and shadow are both hyper effective conduits for Chaos energy. Sonic because he personally embodies chaos so perfectly it naturally is channeled theough him. All mobians are conduits for Chaos energy naturally, which is why Shadow was eventually created using Mobian DNA. Shadow has this calculating theoretically 'ultimate' control over Chaos energy but his personality is cold and ordered, and he has a complex about being a gun. Chaos energy controls the flow of time relative to the user which is why powerful mobians are nearly all speedsters, and why Shadow can use Chaos Control. All that to say, a true biological sonadow child should theoretically be not only the fastest Mobian to ever live, but should be able to control Chaos energy intuitively without overthinking it or being reckless....

At least that's what I think 😅

STELLAR RULES

EEEHEHE I'm so glad you like her!! ;w;

And yes! You'd be correct! In theory, Stellar should be a terrifying force to be reckoned with! However, she's been raised with no knowledge of the power she contains (not to mention she's a total sweetie!), so her status as a living weapon remains to be seen.

Once Eggman realizes what she actually is, he will be very intrigued by Stellar and what she might be capable of. Unfortunately, Stellar is a lot like Sonic in personality, so convincing her to do anything for him willingly would be quite the challenge!

[caniruineverything]

won't you hold me in your arms, and keep me safe from harm?

ft. ben’s ptsd

Summary: "'That’s not the problem. The problem is that Ben hates being sedated. Do you know what it’s like to be kidnapped and held captive?' When the doctor, stunned, didn’t reply, Gwen pressed harder. 'Do you?' 'Um, no,' replied the flabbergasted doctor. Gwen looked even angrier now."

OR

Ben gets injured, and one of the doctors at the hospital sedates him. Ben's long history of being kidnapped does not exactly agree with this, but luckily Gwen has always got her cousin. Oh, and Kevin's there too.

read below or on ao3

“You did what ?” Gwen’s voice was so low and cold the hairs on the back of Kevin’s neck stood on end. He was reminded just how terrifying she could be when she was truly angry.

“It was a standard sedative, Miss Tennyson,” the doctor placated, but Gwen was having none of it.

“You sedated him? Without asking him or me?” Kevin was confused by her anger; he wasn’t exactly happy with Ben being forcefully sedated, but Gwen seemed to be overreacting. The doctor appeared similarly confused.

“Well, yes. I am the doctor overseeing Mr. Tennyson, and I saw fit to sedate him. So far, he has had no adverse reactions, if that is what you are worried about.” The doctor sounded awfully calm in the wake of Gwen’s ever-growing anger. Her face was beginning to turn red now.

“That’s not the problem. The problem is that Ben hates being sedated. Do you know what it’s like to be kidnapped and held captive?” When the doctor, stunned, didn’t reply, Gwen pressed harder. “Do you?”

“Um, no,” replied the flabbergasted doctor. Gwen looked even angrier now.

“Right. You don’t know what it’s like to be continuously sedated. Well, Ben does. So when he wakes up, disoriented, he’s gonna think you’ve abducted him, and he’s gonna fight .” At this, the doctor audibly gulped. Kevin had a feeling the doctor knew just how well Ben could fight, even when impaired. Gwen nodded at the doctor’s paling face. “Here’s what you’re going to do: you’re going to let Kevin and I sit by Ben until he wakes up, allow us to calm him down, and promise to never sedate him again. Okay?” It was hardly a question, and the doctor knew it.

“Ye-yes, of course, Miss Tennyson, Mr. Levin.” He damn near fled from Gwen, who immediately pushed open the door to Ben’s room. Kevin followed obediently, still in awe of Gwen’s ferocity. She was a force of nature, a power to be reckoned with, and it was nearly breathtaking to watch. Well, when that intensity wasn’t directed at Kevin. He’d had enough experience to know that.

Inside the room, it was far too quiet for Kevin to feel comfortable, which was maybe the point of a hospital room. The only sounds were the steady beeping of the heart monitor and Ben’s soft exhalations. Those were also the only signs that Ben was still alive.

Kevin didn’t associate Ben with stillness. The kid was almost always moving, a flurry of words and flailing limbs. Even when he was sleeping he was moving, flopping over onto his side or thrashing around in the throes of yet another nightmare. On the rare occasions when he wasn’t moving, he was deadly serious. That Ben scared Kevin a bit sometimes, though he’d never admit it.

But now the shapeshifting hero was still, and Kevin was a little scared, though for a different reason. Ben seemed so invincible sometimes that Kevin forgot just how human he was - and how vulnerable that made him.

While Kevin stood near the doorway, unsure what to do, Gwen immediately settled into a chair next to Ben’s bed, and watched her cousin’s breathing. It was too silent for Kevin to bear it for very long.

“He’s gonna be fine, Gwen.” His attempt to comfort her ended up sounding far more unsure than he’d meant it to be. Gwen didn’t even look up from Ben, just nodded slowly. It was as though Ben would disappear if she took her eyes off him for even a moment, and maybe he would. Stranger things had happened.

Kevin didn’t think anything he said would matter in that moment, and he didn’t really have anything else to say, anyway. So he sat in the other chair and closed his eyes. It had been a long day, in all fairness, and it would be nice to leave the world behind for a little while.

It was dark when he woke up. Gwen was asleep now, though Ben was still sleeping, still freakishly unmoving. It reminded him of how still Ben had been after the alien-of-the-week had slammed him through the building. He and Gwen had waited with bated breath, praying he’d get back up like he always did, but he remained motionless.

Gwen had snapped into action, fighting savagely against the creature that had injured her cousin, fueled by rage and worry. Kevin had joined her, only slightly more controlled, and they had ended the fight.

Kevin had stood there, panting, while Gwen raced over to her prone cousin. After a few silent seconds, she had glanced up at Kevin, tears pooling in her eyes, and told him to call an ambulance.

Sometimes, Kevin forgot that Ben could be injured. The kid always seemed to bounce back immediately, occasionally without a scratch. But in moments like this, gazing down at Ben, who looked far too small in the hospital bed, Kevin was reminded that Ben placed himself in grave danger every day. They all did, like it was a normal thing for teenagers to do. Like it was nothing .

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Gwen shifting. He looked up at her, realizing she had woken up. She met his eyes and tried for a smile that they both knew was fake. The one Kevin gave in return was just as strained.

She glanced back down at Ben, brow furrowing. Kevin hated seeing her sad, but he knew nothing was going to cheer her up. Well, nothing except Ben waking up, healthy again. He watched her tenderly brush a few strands of Ben’s hair away from his face.

Kevin knew she hated feeling useless, and right now, all they could do was wait for Ben to regain consciousness, then deal with the fallout. Gwen’s words from earlier came back to him: he’s gonna fight. The two of them could subdue a weakened Ben, right? Even one who believed he was fighting for his life?

Kevin opened his mouth to ask Gwen if she had a plan for when Ben woke up, when a small noise from Ben stopped him. Gwen’s eyes snapped to her cousin’s face, searching for a sign that Ben was awakening. Well , Kevin thought as Ben began shifting, clearly waking up, I guess I’ll find out .

If he was being honest, a tiny part of Kevin had wondered if Gwen was being slightly overreactive, and Ben was just going to wake up disoriented. It shouldn’t be that hard to subdue someone who had been sedated. But then, Ben knew that.

The second his eyes were open, Ben leapt from the bed and positioned himself with his back to the corner, wobbling slightly. He looked around rapidly, and it was obvious that he wasn’t seeing what was in front of him, not really.

His legs were trembling so hard Kevin wondered how he was even standing. Not to mention the injuries that had gotten him in this position. Kevin looked at Gwen, not sure what to do at this moment. She just nodded at him subtly and started inching closer toward her cousin.

“Ben, it’s okay, it’s me, it’s Gwen,” she placated softly, hands outstretched to show him that she meant no harm. “You’re safe, you can relax.” Ben looked cloudily at her, following the sound of her voice. His brow furrowed, then his already tense body tensed further. Kevin could see Ben’s subtle wince as the movement pulled at his injuries. His heart broke slightly at the revelation that Ben had tried to hide it to avoid his “enemy” seeing any weakness.

“N-no, it’s not- you’re lying!” came Ben’s broken reply, voice laden with false fearlessness. Kevin watched Gwen’s face call, and he felt his own heart fall with it. This definitely wouldn’t be as easy as he’d thought. Ben seemed to flounder for a few seconds before speaking again, in that same small voice. “Gwen wouldn’t- she wouldn’t do this.”

Gwen made a wounded noise, then let out a breath. “I’m sorry, Ben. I didn’t know, I swear.” She looked imploringly at him, and Kevin damn near held his breath as Ben looked back at her.

“Really?” It was clear that he still didn’t fully believe it, but he wanted to. “Gwen, it’s really you?”

“Yeah, Ben, it’s me.” She turned to Kevin, tears in her eyes once again, and somehow he understood what she wanted.

“Uh, yeah. It’s us, Tennyson. You’re safe.” He wasn’t sure exactly what to say, but it apparently worked. Ben turned his glassy eyes towards him and breathed,

“Kevin?” before his legs buckled, finally giving out. He and Gwen rushed over, but she was faster, and in a blur, the two cousins were on the ground, Ben half-hugging, half-laying on top of Gwen, who was holding him tightly. Once again, she glanced up wordlessly at Kevin, and he sat on Ben’s other side. Ben grabbed onto his arm without moving away from Gwen, and promptly passed back out.

“He must have been in a lot of pain, huh?” Kevin broached. Gwen sighed, running a hand through Ben’s matted hair absentmindedly.

“He was too busy panicking to care. But when he calmed down, yeah. It’s a good thing he’s asleep again.” Kevin didn’t think he needed to respond, so he said nothing. All three of them sat there, the only sound their soft breaths.

And if that doctor couldn’t ever look Gwen in the eye again, Kevin mused as he remembered Ben trembling in the corner, terrified, then he deserved it.

[duckprintspress]

Let’s Get Spoopy! 6 Queer Gothic Books for Halloween!

Happy Halloween, everyone! We did a queer horror-themed rec list in August to celebrate Frankenstein Day, so we thought we’d try something a little different: queer gothic stories! Here are our six recommendations for queer gothic works. Five Duck Prints Press folks contributed recommendations to this list.

Carmilla by J. Sheridan Le Fanu

In a lonely castle deep in the Styrian forest, Laura leads a solitary life with only her elderly father for company – until a moonlit night brings an unexpected guest to the schloss. At first Laura is glad to finally have a female companion of her own age, but her new friend’s strange habits and eerie nocturnal wanderings quickly become unsettling, and soon a ghastly truth is revealed.

What Manner of Man by St. John Starling

This is What Manner of Man, a queer vampire romance novel about an innocent priest sent to a remote island to exorcise the demons that are allegedly tormenting the villagers — but what happens when the priest begins to suspect his host, the mysterious, nocturnal lord of the local manor, may have invited him another reason entirely? And what happens when the supposedly celibate priest finds he cannot resist his host’s powerful charms?

Unspeakable: A Queer Gothic Anthology

Unspeakable contains eighteen Gothic tales with uncanny twists and characters that creep under your skin. Its stories feature sapphic ghosts, terrifying creatures of the sea, and haunted houses concealing their own secrets. Whether you’re looking for your non-binary knight in shining armour or a poly family to murder with, Unspeakable showcases the best contemporary Gothic queer short fiction.

Even dark tales deserve their time in the sun.

A Dowry of Blood by S. T. Gibson

Saved from the brink of death by a mysterious stranger, Constanta is transformed from a medieval peasant into a bride fit for an undying king. But when Dracula draws a cunning aristocrat and a starving artist into his web of passion and deceit, Constanta realizes that her beloved is capable of terrible things. Finding comfort in the arms of her rival consorts, she begins to unravel their husband’s dark secrets.

With the lives of everyone she loves on the line, Constanta will have to choose between her own freedom and her love for her husband. But bonds forged by blood can only be broken by death.

Silver in the Wood by Emily Tesh

There is a Wild Man who lives in the deep quiet of Greenhollow, and he listens to the wood. Tobias, tethered to the forest, does not dwell on his past life, but he lives a perfectly unremarkable existence with his cottage, his cat, and his dryads.

When Greenhollow Hall acquires a handsome, intensely curious new owner in Henry Silver, everything changes. Old secrets better left buried are dug up, and Tobias is forced to reckon with his troubled past, both the green magic of the woods and the dark things that rest in its heart.

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

In this celebrated work Wilde forged a devastating portrait of the effects of evil and debauchery on a young aesthete in late-19th-century England. Combining elements of the Gothic horror novel and decadent French fiction, the book centers on a striking premise: As Dorian Gray sinks into a life of crime and gross sensuality, his body retains perfect youth and vigor while his recently painted portrait grows day by day into a hideous record of evil, which he must keep hidden from the world. For over a century, this mesmerizing tale of horror and suspense has enjoyed wide popularity. It ranks as one of Wilde’s most important creations and among the classic achievements of its kind.

TELL US MORE QUEER GOTHIC BOOKS!

These books have been added to our queer horror shelf on Goodreads and our affiliate recommendation list on Bookshop.org!

[the-bear-and-his-sunbird]

hello! for thedasweekend, how about "it's who we are." for Siobhan/Emmrich?

Thank you for your prompt @raptortier for the @thedasweekend !

I listened to the whole song before writing this and I have read so many different ways to analyse it, so I feel like I have derailed a little bit. But it fits so well with Emmrichs fears about romance and mortality and the emmrook romance in general. This is set right before Tearstone Island, so please beware the spoilers.

Please note that this has angst, mentions of mortality, death, and organs, a short description of a possible death situation, Hurt/no comfort, age gap.

Give the song a listen if you want to :

Death has followed Emmrich steps since he was a child. He thought it to be beckoning, laughing, mocking at first with how frightening it felt to him in the most darkest of hours.

Later in life, even as the fear stubbornly refused to live in his insides, he realized that death can be silent and solemn too. Gentle as a breath or as unyielding as a giants wrath. It cares not about your status or standing. It is natural and final, as everyone bows to death as its master.

Except for the Lich Lords of the Necropolis.

Soon his goal had been clear: Transcend beyond the veil of death and guard the living in its shadow. Never fear mortality again. Forever.

It had become his focus point, giving him direction when he felt lost. Alone he had walked the path. Until Manfred came along, a cheerful companion for the most rotten of hours.

Unexpectedly he also met her: Beautiful, strange Siobhan. Captivating him easily in just one exhilarating evening in one of Nevarras most beautiful gardens. When she was gone, sent away after the War of the Banners, as he learned later, he could not stop himself thinking of her every now and then.

When he met her again, as „Rook“ this time, he knew he wanted, no needed, to pull apart the facets of her. Unraveling her until he had her very essence in his hands. Yet he feared it.

Who was he shackle someone as young and wild to someone like him?

It took him by surprise, how effortlessly she made her way into his heart and how willing she was to let him close in return. Pulling him in until there was barely anything else he could think of. Unyielding, indomitable. She was a force to be reckoned with and he would do what was in his power to assist her, no matter what was asked.

To be close to her was mercy, yet a pain as sharp as a knife, as he yearned for her to be his.

Siobhan. He said her name like a prayer in the middle of the night. But in opposition to the gods they had to fell, she answered his pleas, coming to him; first in dreams, then in reality.

Soon they were intertwined. Her heart resting in his palm, gifted by her in one of the most divine of evenings. For safekeeping, she said. Emmrich swore he would.

Shortly after, he did unthinkable. Emmrich refused Lichdom, so Manfred could live.

Siobhan called him their son, what a beautiful yet terrifying word, a legacy beyond his death. Seeing him live was one of the greatest gifts he could have wished for.

Yet it stoked the painful horror nestled tightly beneath his heart. Without the promise of Lichdom, he would die. Before their friends, before Manfred, before Siobhan.

Life was trickling through his fingers with every passing minute and he was powerless to stop it.

He grew restless, frantic. There was no word for the terror he felt in the face of certain death. Mortality, now his final fate.

Tomorrow they would face Ghilan‘nain and Elgar‘nan. There was a high possibility that his life could end then and there.

Either through a wayward spell that fractured his bones and left him choking on blood or a blade to his soft skin, piercing his organs, cutting through arteries.

It may be different in execution, yet the result would be the same. Death.

But what if he did actually survive? Would one of his friends die? All of them? Would his darling Siobhan lose her life on the battlefield?

Or would all of them survive, a well earned victory, only for him to die years before his beloved does, leaving her shackled to a fading memory? A mourning widow at his grave, the price for his selfish wish for affection.

Emmrich took his quill and parchment like a soldier takes a sword and shield and went to battle. A will he could create, laying out his bequeathments.

And as soon as Siobhan would arrive in his room, he would offer her a way out.

Even if it meant that his heart would die, pierced by his own actions, many years before the rest of his body would.

[wisefoxluminary]

Arcane Season 2 Act 2 my thoughts (+analysis)

Wow just wow…this show really is a rollercoaster and this set of episodes really delved into the family dynamics of Vi and Jinx, two broken characters trying to fix what was lost between them. Jinx being forced to reckon with who she is as a leader in Zaun, inspiring those to stand up against the injustice wrought by the enforcers and this time we get to see the innocent and more soft side of her as she realises all these people look up to her as their saviour when all her life she was led to believe she was a monster who gets everyone she comes close to killed but she realises that she is making an impact on everyone around her including Isha who reminds her of her past self that she buried and is bringing that back out to the surface. Their sibling relationship was really beautiful to witness because they would save each other every damn time. It was cruel watching that get taken away from us because Isha’s final act was saving Jinx from Warwick’s rampage, though her life was short lived just like Powder’s, her sacrifice really showed the impact Jinx had made on her life and that act of preservation and love will help her finally embrace the role of a saviour complex the people of Zaun need, in the shadow of Viktor’s passing, a fallen messiah who used his power of healing for good. Jinx takes that chance and must weaponise her own destruction for good, to liberate her people and what remains of her family from Ambessa and the Piltover Guard and also Jayce who seeks to wipe every last remnant of Hextech.

I really liked the twist that Vander was Warwick as it added loads of tragedy to his character and really fuelled the emotional beats for the reminder of the story, in particular Vi and Jinx’s journeys respectively. The idea of Vander's love being the one thing that ties the sisters together was really beautiful to me because every time he saw Jinx, he was reminded of Powder which brought back his humanity which was slowly being corrupted by the beast. Powder is his tether to humanity thus why he protects her with all his might (“they don't touch my daughter” scene comes to light). This link to humanity, his memories of Ponder is what helps him overcome his monstrous impulses. He's a dead man who has turned into something unrecognisable and yet the memory and warm love Vander once embodied still resides within him and Vi and Jinx are working so hard to persevere that. This is shown in the memory sequence Viktor observed in his mind because Vander's impact is always felt on Vi and Jinx. He gave Vi her name, he was a loyal friend of their mother. His dying words to Vi was for her to protect Powder. That's why he recognises Jinx and sees her for who she used to be, why he saved her. Jinx may blame herself for his death but that only brings him closer to her. So when that perfect image of family was taken away from them, the monster from within won and every last memory of Vander is stripped away from him because that light Viktor was trying so hard to untangle from him was gone the moment he was killed.

Jayce really lost his mind because who knew one senseless action could cause this horrific chain of events to happen because being trapped in that anomaly caused him to see a false and corrupted vision of the future and it descended him into madness. Jayce is the reason Viktor loses his humanity because as he said in his dying moments the greatest good can also become your greatest evil. So what Jayce believed he was doing right by killing Viktor and stopping him from going down the wrong path only was the fuel to the fire that caused it. Betrayal and the tragedy it brings and how it melds us into the worst version of ourselves is a very integral theme in Arcane as seen with Vander and Silco, Vi and Powder, Vi and Caitlyn etc. Jayce and Viktor is just another representative cursed by the narrative and the ramifications of this betrayal will be dealt by them in terrifying ways and how they'll overcome that is going to be very central heading into the last three episodes. There is no changing the past, but there must be a way to make a better future with it as well.

The only way this show can end is if Vi and Jinx finally forgive each other and themselves and finally use love as their greatest weapon against the evil that threatens to supress them, how sacrifice impacts them and encourages them to carry on what the people who are gone had taught them. Love is what united them rather than hate and I think that's a beautiful thing. The resolution of their arc would be those two sisters reconciling, living in peace knowing their family is in a better place. For Vander to be ressurected and for Zaun to return to what it used to be under his resistance, finally at a peaceful agreement with Piltover where no more blood is shed. Where Hextech isn't used as a weapon anymore.

But overall, this episodes truly were a masterclass in storytelling and animation with its vibrant and colourful visuals. Truly can't wait for Act 3 because the symbolism of this show goes crazy.