#which is partially true bc he is that

[sunlight-shunlight]

it's unfortunate that dorian often gets characterized as just kind of a Generic Best Friend™️ for the inquisitor, bc i feel like he's actually SO odd. juvenile delinquent child prodigy mage who kept getting into fights and dropping out of various schools. refuses to take the well of sorrows on moral grounds. progressive by tevinter noble standards, but still throwing in clunkers like "well... slavery isn't THAT bad" in conversation. but still has enough conflicted feelings about it to wallow in Tevinter Guilt about arlathan and slavery, and genuinely discusses it with solas? and then if given a few years, he does decide to do something about it. only for solas to go "sorry but i have to destroy this world :/ try to enjoy your remaining time i guess :/"

and, if you recruit him at redcliffe, there is the angle where his first major introduction to the party is... them all dying horribly of red lyrium in front of him. because of the actions of his own mentor, whom he respected a lot. while he tries to do advanced theoretical fade physics calculations in his head. i can only imagine he goes "well! we don't have time to unpack all that. where's the nearest bar" after coming back to the normal world, but jeez. he is so bizarre and i love that.

[watery-melon-baller]

on the one hand, i really like working on the script for this video essay. on the other hand, it feels like im just being super negative and and a hater towards the entire toh fandom because they like making their dolls kiss

[goetictempest]

[Text convo with my dad]

Me: I HAVE REACHED LEVEL 34! (Fire Elmo gif)

Dad: What game is that?!

Me: I mean I’ve reached level 34 in life.

Dad: Aha! The game of Life.

Me: I love A-ha!

Dad: So do I!

Me: And that is Elmo with fire behind him.

Dad: I recognize Elmo! Why is he on fire?

Me: It is St. Elmo’s Fire.

Dad: 🤦🏻‍♂️

[venus-maneater]

a loyal dog’s reward ii. | yan! criston cole

yandere / obsessed ! au

fem! targaryen princess! reader

part i

synopsis. suffering an injury from a tournament, criston has to deal with seeing you alongside his temporary replacement. fortunately, you weren’t interested in teasing too much this time, trying to distract yourself from your sister beginning her labors, and you were happy to cheer your poor mutt up.

note; I’ve decided to make this a series with no real plot lol 😭 if being attracted to criston cole is a crime then lock me up !! this chapter took a mind of its own bc this was not the original plot and it’s twice as long as part i

WARNING(s): obsessive / possessive behavior, manipulation, violence, thoughts of violence, implied murder, blood, injury, JEALOUSY, nosebleeds, talk of bastards and having bastard children, Rhaenyra gives birth, allusions to sex but no actual smut, cole def has a breeding kink y’all

Ser Criston Cole, your ever-so-loyal shield, always said yes when you asked him to enter tourneys. He knew how much you enjoyed them, and relished in your attention as he succeeded in competition. There were only two real downsides to tournaments for him: the hours he had to spend apart from you, and the injuries. Criston had always excelled at anything physical, but he was only mortal. He was just a man who could be maimed or murdered just like any other. It served to remind him of the status gap between you: he was a man while you were born from dragons.

He kept his eyes on your form in the nobles’ box until it was his turn. This was typical behavior from him, he was nothing but devoted to you. Since you’d discovered his true feelings, you gave him more attention than before. You entertained his tendencies, teasing him sometimes but always reassuring him at the end of the day. You wanted no one but him.

“Oh, don’t fret, my Criston.” You’d tut, “I could never replace you. You’re the only guard dog for me.”

You played with his feelings occasionally, trying to get a rise out of him, but he quickly found that he didn’t mind. His reward at the end made all his anger worth it. He never blamed you either, it was never your fault that men didn’t know how to leave you alone.

He wondered now if this was one of your attempts at making him jealous.

The large man who stood obediently behind you was the one taking over Criston’s position as he competed in the tournament. Usually, another Kingsguard member would take over, but this particular Knight had something to prove. He was highborn, from some house in the Vale, with wide shoulders and a somewhat handsome face. The two men looked nothing alike; the Knight next to you was pale, hazel-eyed, and thin-haired.

He doubted it.

You didn’t like men other than Criston Cole guarding you, you’d expressed so before. They’re boring and untrustworthy, you insisted. Your words made his chest puff out with pride. He liked that he was the only one you truly trusted with your life; you knew he would protect you. You chose him to protect you.

To be honest, you didn’t even seem interested in the Knight from the Vale; you looked stiff and bored, which concerned your sworn shield. You loved tournaments, you loved when he won things in your honor. Why don’t you look excited?

Soon enough, it was his turn again. With your flowery red favor around his wrist, he got into position.

You perked up a bit when you saw that it was Criston’s turn once more. You’d been rather stiff most of the event, and you partially blamed it on your boring temporary guard. The man was flat; no personality to work with at all. It bummed you out honestly, he was from the Vale but behaved like a Northman. He was presumably around Ser Criston’s age, but had not even half of his spirit. It wouldn’t have bothered you so much if you couldn’t feel his stare burning into the back of your head. You could give him some credit; at least he’s taking his job of supervising you seriously.

But no, the primary reason for your irritation and lack of focus was your father. He had demanded you to attend this tourney to celebrate Rhaenyra’s labors, not allowing you to be by her side. You and your sister were close, very close, and quite similar as well. To not be by her side when she was in pain had you tense. You didn’t want to be here, not even to see Criston compete.

Criston Cole was facing a member of House Bolton, a rather fierce young man who didn’t scare easy. Most Northerners were like that, but Criston should know best as he just beat another one last round. The tournament today was celebrating Princess Rhaenyra beginning her labors, so competitors have traveled from far and wide. The event had been planned for a month, so it was good news that the Princess was finally giving birth.

“Jessil,” you called to your guard with a smirk, “You should watch closely this round, my shield is competing.”

The man nodded curtly without a word, causing you to roll your eyes. His under-reactions irked you, but you were starting to blame Criston Cole for that fact. He always reacted wonderfully to anything you did, perhaps you were too used to it.

Speaking of your shield, you could see his anger growing the longer you were with another man. It was the only thing keeping you here at this point; waiting to see if he’ll get violent. Criston was the most amusing man you’d ever met, you just knew something was going to happen. There were only two more rounds until the event ended, and he’d been stiff ever since Ser Jessil bent down closer in order to hear your comments about two hours ago.

The two knights settled into their positions across the courtyard from each other, on opposite sides of the tilt. Then, a horn sounded, triggering their horses into a sprint. With their lances aimed, the men collided, wooden splinters flying but neither of them falling. New lances were readily tossed to them and the process repeated. Criston spared you a glance, noticing that Jessil had gotten a few inches closer.

Again, they charged forward. Only this time, when they clashed, Criston was thrown from his horse at the force of the hit. The Bolton fared a bit better, remaining on his horse, but he was hit in the face by Criston’s lance, causing the front of his helmet to cave in just enough to cut him.

What you saw made you shoot to your feet, your hands gripping the railing in concern. Never in your years of knowing Criston Cole had you ever seen him knocked from his horse in a tournament. He was easily one of the best fighters you knew of, it seemed impossible that this could happen. Had you pushed too far with your teasing? You’d never tried anything during a tournament before, perhaps Ser Jessil’s presence threw him off.

The round didn’t end there. Criston was quick to stand despite his obvious injuries, and his morningstar was swiftly given to him. His helmet had flew from his head when he fell, so his bleeding mouth was for all to see. He was holding his right arm close to his body, making it appear broken or incapable of proper use. Although he was right-handed, he gripped his weapon in his left hand and prepared for a fight. The Bolton Knight was also without a helmet at this point, ditching the damaged armor when he jumped to the ground to grab his sword. His nose was bleeding and looked to be broken from the hit.

“Is his arm broken?” You asked aloud, leaning over the railing a bit in an attempt to see better, “he favors his right.”

Jessil ignored your words, but inched closer so you wouldn’t go over the railing, “Princess, you could fall.”

Criston let the other Knight come to him, not willing to waste any energy. He used his time to look your way, not liking the way your guard was holding your shoulder.

The fight began, but didn’t last long. The Bolton may have made a skilled jouster, but not a fighter. He was no match for the angry Kingsguard, even when he had every advantage. Handicapped from his injuries, Criston swung his Morningstar with his left hand, swiftly hitting his opponent in the head while avoiding any oncoming attacks from the sword. The impact knocked the younger Knight out, but visibly broke his brow bone. Due to the force from the spikes, his face was bleeding badly and the area around his eye was caved in, perfectly mirroring the damage to his helmet.

Half the crowd was silent in shock (including yourself), but the other half was cheering loudly at the violence. You were desensitized to such things at this point in your life, but that didn’t mean you welcomed them. You didn’t like that Criston came so close to losing, or that you have to watch some poor Bolton boy bleed out on the ground for no reason, your shield was too injured to continue to the next round anyways. And due to your being a princess, it would be inappropriate to leave early to check on the Kingsguard member. Because your father wouldn’t allow to be with your sister, you’d made Criston your fixation of the day.

The two of you made eye contact as a few servants rushed over to him, helping him limp off to see a maester. It was soon announced that although neither competitor was continuing to the next round, Criston Cole was technically the winner.

“Well that was certainly a show” You cleared your throat, shaking Ser Jessil’s hand off your shoulder and finally taking your seat once again, “I knew something was going to happen.”

“So you did, Princess.” The Knight nodded curtly, recalling your words earlier, telling him to watch closely.

With Criston gone, your mind shifted back to a pregnant Rhaenyra, who was currently giving birth without your comfort. You stiffen up, nails digging into the railing before exhaling deeply and taking your seat. The two of you return to your proper positions and continued to observe the event for the next few hours, clapping dutifully when an insignificant Lannister won.

x

You made it back to the Red Keep in record time, it seemed. Even Jessil had trouble keeping up with you on your horse as you rushed home. You’d refused the carriage ride, eager to see your sister.

You were sprinting up the nearly infinite steps to her chambers, Jessil following close and maids jumping out of the way. A couple of people tried to stop your entrance, but you only shoved them aside and pushed your way towards your sister.

“Rhaenyra!” You gasped softly, a grin finding its way to your face when you saw her cradling her new baby in bed. After the death of your mother, childbirth was a sensitive subject for you and your sister, you hated being apart during this time. She dismissed the women in the room, leaving just the two of you and her first child.

“I’ve decided on Jacaerys.” She smiled at you as you crawled into the bed beside her.

She’d discussed baby name ideas with you before, with Laenor as well, who suggested Joffrey. Rhaenyra was adamantly against it, and you remembered the distaste you felt hearing it, knowing the implications that would come along if they decided on that name. You’d always liked Joffrey actually, unhappy with his death, but almost all of court heard the rumors of he and Laenor. You’d suggested Jacaerys, a Velaryon sounding name. Rhaenyra didn’t seem overly interested, so you didn’t expect her to choose it.

“Oh, Jacaerys.” You cooed, stroking his little head, full of dark locks. That wasn’t good, not really. Hopefully he took after Rhaenyra in his other features, or else questions of his parentage could arise. Rhaenys was half Baratheon, so that could be used as an excuse. But then the baby boy opened his eyes, revealing big brown orbs that mirrored Harwin Strong’s. You liked Harwin quite a bit, not minding. But the court would mind. You and Rhaenyra would just have to protect him.

“Have you slept yet?” You asked your sister, who hasn’t stopped grinning since you first saw her.

“Not yet, dear sister, I cannot stop looking at his sweet face.”

“Has… his father seen him yet?” You both knew who you meant.

“No. But he will soon enough, when I’m well enough to leave the room.” She gave you a knowing smile, which you returned.

Upon leaving Rhaenyra to rest, you were able to successfully escape Ser Jessil’s supervision with the help of Ser Harwin Strong, and went straight to Criston Cole’s chambers. You found out through your favorite handmaiden that he’d been released from the infirmary, and you took the first opportunity that presented itself to you. You didn’t knock before slipping into his room, but you were sure he wouldn’t mind.

Stepping in, your eyes were drawn to his place on the bed immediately. He was lying down above the blankets, with his arm wrapped and splinted in a sling resting above his bare midsection. His ribs were bruised, but it was apparently nothing bad enough that would need wrapping. Both legs were extended out, with his left pant leg pulled up to the knee to reveal his bruised ankle. He didn’t notice you enter, his eyes were shut and he was likely half-asleep. His face was fine, handsome as always, besides a cut on his nose-bridge that was beginning to darken into a bruise.

“Look at you, my poor sweet thing.” You cooed quietly at him suddenly, waking him from his relaxed state. His eyes shot open, head snapping over to the door.

“My princess.” He gasped. His chambers were much smaller and less impressive than yours, he didn’t want you in such an environment.

“Are you well?” You asked, closing the door as quietly as possible, “The maester says you’ve broken bones.”

“I’m well, I swear it to you. It’s a small break in the arm, everything should heal rather quickly.” He tried to reassure you as you approached, struggling his way into a sitting position, his back against the head board.

You hummed at his clumsy movements, stopping to stand at his bedside. Cute. Criston wasn’t an inherently violent man, at least not with you, so it was easy to forget how strong and dangerous he truly was. It was unnerving to see him injured; weak.

“How quickly would you say?” You asked.

“The maester says a month.” He answered quietly, not willing to admit the extent of his injuries. His primary goal was to get back to you.

You knew the Maester had actually said two months.

“Hm. Who will protect me for a whole month in your absence?” You held back a smirk.

You watched as Criston’s body language immediately changed. Clenching and unclenching his jaw, his leg twitched in frustration.

“I am still fully capable.”

Has he always been this attractive or does jealousy just look good on him?

“My father thinks you should take time to heal.”

He scoffed, shaking his head, “I don’t care what he thinks, you saw what I did to my opponent despite my injuries.”

“You ‘don’t care what he thinks’? He is King.” You said in a mock-scolding tone, lifting your knee to rest in against the bed, close to his lap.

“Yours is the only word to mean anything to me. I listen to no King.” Still seated, he leans forward to get closer.

“Though you listen to me? Only me?” You ask with a smile, batting your lashes at him and leaning in. He doesn’t move to kiss you first, he rarely does. He lets you do as you please, feeling the puffs of air from your giggle on his lips.

“Yes. Only you.” He whispers, his eyes begging you to just kiss him already. But nothing is ever that simple with you, and he knows it well.

You grin at him, leaning in until your lips are just grazing his own, before laughing and pulling away entirely. His face followed yours until you were out of reach, leaving him to huff and fall back against the head board once again. He let out a quiet groan, closing his eyes and tossing his head back so he could catch his breath.

“You’re so easy, Ser Criston.” You snickered. His lips quirked up at your joyous tone, but he resisted the urge to open his eyes. After a few moments of stumbling around the room in amusement, you bit your lip to keep quiet.

Criston went stiff when you fell silent, excited fingers beginning to twitch as the urge to touch you increased. But he was a seasoned warrior at this point in life, and could hear every movement you made. He heard you tiptoe back over to the bed before pausing. The mattress dipped as you climbed onto the bed and landed in his lap, straddling his thighs and avoiding his bruised ribs. It was only when you were on top of him that his eyelids fluttered open to watch you. You gave him a satisfied look. He was happy to let you believe you caught him off-guard.

“Criston?”

“Yes, my Heart?”

“There’s something I have to tell you…” You placed your hands gently on his chest and leaned in, your mouth next to his ear, “and you will not like it.”

“You think me incapable of handling such news?” He asked, a bit breathless.

You smiled, “Of course not. You’re my protector, my strong and most loyal servant. You can handle anything I give you, yes?”

He nodded, unable to speak properly with your lips on his ear.

“My father says that Ser Jessil will be your stand-in as my protector.”

Criston’s good hand immediately moved to your waist, gripping it tightly, “You don’t need anyone else to protect you. Only me.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” You kissed his jaw gently, “but you should heal and rest.”

“I will kill him. Do not doubt me.”

“He would just be replaced.”

“I don’t care, I should kill the next as well.”

“You go against my word?” You pulled back, sitting up fully. He hesitated in his response, so you continued, “Ser Jessil will be your temporary replacement, my King father has said this and I have agreed.”

It was a lie, technically; you didn’t exactly agree to anything. But you weren’t about to let Criston believe he had the power here. He’d started to get a bit too bold.

Your faces were close together now, the two of you holding heavy eye contact. Criston said nothing, though his body language revealed his true feelings easily. He didn’t like that you were taking your father’s side over his own.

“I love you.” He blurted out, brows furrowed in emotion.

Your hands moved up to hold his face, “I know that. I just want you well. You must rest and heal so you can be at your best. Don’t you understand?”

Criston nodded slowly, a satisfied shiver running through him at the thought of you caring so much. His health is truly that important to you?

“Good.” You say with a grin, pecking the corner of his lips and reaching up to pat his messy hair down. His long locks grew wild already, but the style worsened from hours of wearing a helmet.

Giving into you, per usual, the Knight sighed and wrapped his good arm fully around your waist, pulling you close so he could tuck his face into your neck. You cooed at him, returning his embrace and giggling in between your praises.

“I know that this upsets you quite a bit,” You began, gasping in surprise when you felt a warm tongue trail over your throat, “but I don’t mind making you feel better.”

“Feel better you say?” He questioned absentmindedly, more focused on the taste of your skin.

You hummed in confirmation, “I can take care of you in places you may need help with. You know….. here?”

Eyes closed, you placed a delicate touch to the bulge in his pants, smiling when you felt him stiffen beneath you.

Criston Cole was always half-hard around you, your presence alone able to rile him up. He often found himself having to control his thoughts when around other people, not wanting them to notice his… state. As much as he wanted to touch you all over— taste you and love you and worship you— he held a higher respect for you than himself. You were not just a Lady, you were a Princess. He would not dishonor you in such a way, at least not until the two of you were married.

“Princess—” he grunted, mouth dropping open in pleasure briefly before pursing his lips. He pulled his upper body away from you slightly, giving you a bit more space to do what you wanted.

“Oh, it’s fine, Ser Criston. I want to.” You reassured, shrugging because you knew he would end up letting you anyways, “You just look so good bruised up like this, all jealous over some loser, nobody Knight.”

You whispered the last sentence harshly, and Criston loved it. He loved when you degraded other men in comparison to him. He was who you wanted, not that loser, nobody Knight. It didn’t matter that he was low-born or sick in the head, you wanted him anyway.

“You prefer me?” He asked looking up at you, “to him? Tell me...”

“I prefer you to him, Ser Criston Cole. I prefer you to all other men.”

Pulling him by his hair, your lips captured his. Whimpering into your mouth, he now does nothing to stop you from reaching your goal. You smile into the kiss at his surrender.

“… but perhaps you’re right.” You pull away from his lips, but stay close enough to tease, “it would be so dishonorable and you’re injured as well. Hm.”

Criston, his mind in shambles, doesn’t say a word, just sucks his teeth and releases a shaky breath. He doesn’t like to argue with you, he won’t. He’s overwhelmed, you’re so close.

“Can’t think.” He muttered so quietly you almost missed it.

A breathy laugh escaped you before you could stop it, “No? And why is that, Ser? Do I possess you so?”

“Possess? Princess, you are torturing me with your affections. I cannot think of anything else, I cannot focus, I cannot stop shaking.” His voice cracked at the last word and he wasn’t lying, his body trembled.

“Do I dominate your dreams as well?”

“Yes.”

You hum, curious. You knew of his fantasies; his plans to run away, marry, and have many children with you. But you never question the details, allowing them to stay fuzzy so he wouldn’t get too ahead with his scheming. Dreams, however, you could create your own world. “Won’t you share them with me?”

“We ah-” he pauses to take a deep breath, likely attempting to control himself, “You call me by name a lot.”

You tilt your head, a bit confused.

“Not Ser, not dog, not thing— just Criston. The sound of my name from your lips is like music to me. It makes me— I never want you to say another’s name ever again. And uh- a daughter. We have a daughter. She looks like you- so much.”

You begin to shift at his words. A daughter? No Westerosi man wishes for a daughter, at least not before a son, “Daughter you say? Why?”

“She will be you, reborn, carrying my blood. I dream of a baby girl that smiles like you. I will call her my little princess as you are my Princess. A child that is ours.”

“A daughter.” You repeated once more. It was… nice to hear a man express desire for a daughter rather than a son. You and Rhaenyra had suffered due to that mindset, spending most of your lives watching your father desperately try for a son, even at the cost of your mother’s life. He no longer felt that way, but it was too late, the damage had been done. He now had Aegon and Aemond, who he didn’t even pay much attention to. Your mother’s life felt wasted.

“Princess—?”

“A sweet thing it is.” You cut him off, “your dreams are endearing. But I must go now, Jessil has no doubt noticed my absence.”

Criston tensed, “Ab—sence” He croaked, jealousy building.

“Mmhm.” I nodded, “I’ve avoided him thus far, impressively. He may report this to my father if I’m gone any longer.”

Just a few minutes more, his mind screams. But he’s good for you, so he only nods. His jaw is clenched and there’s a noticeable twitch in his expression. His fingertips dig into your sides.

“I don’t want to part with you for so long.”

“Perhaps I’ll visit if you behave.”

x

“He’s clearly a bastard.” Criston spoke quietly, but plainly.

You’d snuck him into your chambers after a long day of cooing over Rhaenyra’s baby boy, Jacaerys. It’d been a couple weeks since his birth and she finally brought him to court for all to see.

“It is treason to suggest such a thing, Ser Cole.” You bitterly defended your sister as you brushed your fair, before rolling your eyes, “And even if it were true, what does it matter who the boy’s father is? He is Rhaenyra’s true son and her heir. The boy is a Targaryen.”

At the risk of upsetting you further, he held his tongue. Being rather low born, Criston grew up having to prove himself through his ability rather than his status. But when he was young, at the end of the day, he was still a rank above bastard children. He had that, at least. He knew that it wasn’t exactly fair, you can’t control who your parents are, but it was a mindset he was raised with and couldn’t shake so easily.

“What if my father marries me off to some Lord I do not love? Are you saying you wouldn’t fuck little bastard babies into me? Babes that look just like you?” You ask him, standing up from your vanity to approach his spot on your bed, feigning innocence.

Face twitching in annoyance, Criston grabbed your wrist and roughly pulled you to his level. With your faces were inches apart, he reached up and gripped your chin. The action made you bite your lip to hide a grin.

“I will be fucking little trueborn babies into you. I’ll make you my wife before giving you children.” He took slight offense to your words. How could you suggest that? You should know he would not let you be married off.

“Oh, of course, My White Knight. You plan to steal me away.”

“Hardly stealing.” He muttered, lovesick eyes staring into yours.

You don’t voice your disagreements, you only laugh. You did not belong to Criston Cole, you belong only to yourself. His words make you think that this game had gone a little too far; he’s getting too confident in his possessiveness. His hesitancy was one of his initial charms for you, and it’s leaving him. Perhaps it’s best to stop entertaining his ideas of a future with you, no matter how cute and pleasant you believe them to be.

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t like it, even just a little?” You tilted your head, his hand still holding your chin softly.

“No.” That’s a lie, maybe just a small amount. Everyone knowing you belong to him, having his kids, despite your status. But the negatives massively outweigh the positives. Not only would it put so much dishonor on you, but Criston isn’t good at controlling his jealousy. He wouldn’t be able to handle you being married to another or his children not having his name.

You smiled knowingly, teasing, “I don’t believe you.”

He released his grasp on your chin, letting you fall closer into him, “I could never be fond of an idea where you are not mine.”

“Well I would be, only secretly.” You pointed out.

“I want you to be mine openly, in every way. By name.”

You knew that wasn’t possible, not even across the sea. But you didn’t want to burst the bubble he’d been constructing for the last year. You let it go. A short silence takes over, not an uncomfortable one, but not the kind you particularly liked. The two of you had extremely different thinking processes, and it was something only amplified when you discussed your ideas for the future. Luckily, your partner was delusional enough that he didn’t notice your discontent with running away.

“Criston?” You ask, letting yourself fall to lie flat beside him. He lets go of your wrist and his eyes follow your moments, as usual. He lies back on the bed as well.

“Yes, my Princess?”

“Why do you desire me the way you do?”

He looked slightly surprised at the question, like he’d never expected you would ask. The truth is, he hadn’t. It wasn’t like you to care why. You were quick to accept things for what they were.

“You’re special to me.” He eventually whispered, “I was made to love you.”

“Made?”

“The gods constructed me only for the purpose of worshipping you. You have bewitched me with no effort. I do not know whether to kiss the ground you walk on or fall to my knees and beg for your continued attention.”

You stare into his big, dark eyes silently. He’s loyal, like a dog. And he’s hopeless like one too. “You’re not exactly a poet, but I suppose that will do.”

He grins, and you can practically feel his heart racing, “Not a poet, no.”

You tear your eyes away from him to glare at the ceiling. “Do not call my nephew a bastard again.”

He tensed at your words, entirely disliking that he’d upset you, and nodded immediately. He was embarrassed, “Yes, my love, I’m sorry.”

You sighed and looked back at him, sitting up once more. “I think you’ll find him charming. Rhaenyra says he reminds her of me already.”

“Well I’m sure to be charmed in that case, aren’t I?”

“Oh, yes, since you’re more than quite charmed by me.”

“Charmed,” He smiled, pupils expanding as he began to fantasize, “I hope to be charmed by our own children one day.”

“Our own?” You entertained, “How many? Including this daughter of ours of course.”

“Five perhaps. More if you’d like.” He took a piece of your hair between his fingers to play with.

“Is that what our lives would look like if you had it your way?”

“If I had it my way,” His eyes shifted back to your own, darkening, “by now you’d be chasing around our first two children as your stomach swelled with our third. You’d be called Lady Cole.”

“Ah, yes. Lady Cole with her many Cole babes.”

Criston had to take a deep breath at that, practically vibrating at the mere thought of you carrying his children and living as his wife.

You giggle at his visible reaction, leaning down to claim his lips. He sighed into the kiss, hesitant hands reaching for your hair. He tugs, trying to urge you closer, onto his lap, “My princess, please.”

“He begs, ‘Please please please’. You are the wantingest man I’ve ever met.” You grin into the kiss, allowing him to take you into his lap.

“I will never have shame in begging you. My life belongs to you, I am yours.” His words are beginning to slur slightly, “It’s only natural for me to be greedy when you are the one who claims my heart.”

“Always trying to impress me with your words,” You playfully roll your eyes, “you’re nearly healed, you know. Ready to return to my side?” It was a lie, he had good a bit left of healing to do.

“I never should have left.” He squirmed, trying not to show his anger. He never left, not willingly. He was removed.

“Of course, of course.” You tugged on the dark hair at the back of his neck, “The man who’s been with me is utterly serious. Neither I nor Rhaenyra like him.”

Criston listened to your complain about your temporary shield with a sense of pride and giddiness. He was relieved you disliked his replacement. But the mention of your sister disliking him as well did nothing for him, as the princess Rhaenyra didn’t like most men surrounding you, Criston himself included. She never vocalized it much, but he noticed when she tensed and sneered when he got too close to you. He wondered if she knew about your relationship.

“I’m more your taste, Princess?”

A grin found its way to your face and you nodded, “That’s right, I can do whatever I please to you and you only bask in my attention.”

He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, argue with that. While he had his own boundaries of sorts, they were completely disregarded in your presence and he didn’t even mind it.

To prove your point, you began to kiss his jaw, sweet and gentle kisses. Criston hummed, closing his eyes and tilting his head back only slightly. You nipped at the delicate skin, comfortable with leaving just a few marks because he was still out of action; not many people would be seeing him anyways.

“G-gods-” he choked out.

“The gods cannot save you, I’m afraid.” You giggle.

“I beg them not to.”

You giggle at his dazed voice and expression, blowing cool air on his neck and enjoying his shiver. His hands keep twitching. Just to tease, you kept your face tucked into him, kitten licking at the skin until you felt something wet hit your cheek. Pulling away slightly, you quickly identified the source of the warm liquid; blood was dripping from Criston’s nose, falling over his lips down to his chin.

“S-sorry, your grace. I’m overwhelmed is all.” He muttered, hand immediately going up to face to stop the dripping. But you only pull his hand away with a smirk.

“You know,” you begin, thumbing some of the blood and smearing it over his lips, “in the way of Old Valyria, we share blood when we marry.”

“Please, please,” he croaks, big dark eyes boring desperately into your own. They’re shiny and lack any coherent thoughts, “Don’t say such things to me now— can’t control myself.”

“We use dragon glass to cut one another’s lip,” you take your bloodied thumb and swipe red onto your bottom lip, “then we kiss to show we are of the same blood now.”

His leg begins to bounce and he has to look away from your face. His nose continues to drip blood, but neither of you move to stop it this time.

“You like that idea~ i can tell because you’re shaking.” You giggle into his ear.

“M’not shaking-” he replies, but even his voice trembles.

“Well you’re bleeding, is that not a sign?” You tilt your head, “perhaps you’re unwell, should I stop?”

Before he can beg you not to stop, his sharp ears catch the sound of clicking armor in the hall. He tenses, almost forgetting he was in the Princess’ chambers; he doesn’t know how when yours was easily three-times the size of his own. There was no need to panic and hide, people were not permitted to just walk in.

Three hard knocks sounded throughout the room, causing Criston to freeze. Your expression didn’t change, as you’d heard the footsteps.

“Who is it? Do not enter please.” You answered, your eyes not leaving your knight’s. As nervous as he was, Criston maintained eye contact and didn’t move a muscle. With a small grin, your hand traveled back up to his chin, which was now smeared with blood. As your fingers traced his features, you leaned in close to his ear to place a few gentle kisses there.

“Princess, it’s Ser Jessil. Your sister, the Princess Rhaenyra, has sent for you. She is… perhaps you should open the door to let me explain. It concerns your safety.”

Your reactions vary; Criston’s posture is still stiff and he’s growing annoyed at the knight’s presence. It’s almost offensive how this pathetic creature is trying to protect you when that’s his job. But you’re worried, though you won’t show it. Rhaenyra? Is something wrong? But something about it didn’t make sense; if your safety was threatened, then why did Rhaenyra know first and why did Jessil bother knocking at all?

“I’d prefer you explain from where you are.”

You could hear his sigh through the door, an impressive feat, “She is suspicious that a knight of the king is sneaking into your chambers.”

Probably because it was true, you thought, glancing at a stiff and unhappy Criston.

“Let me ready myself and I will speak with her at once.” As you began to shift off of your shield, but he only pouted and desperately hung on. He had the mind to keep quiet, but his heart wouldn’t allow you to leave him.

“… Yes, Princess.”

You turned to him sternly, “Let go, Criston. Don’t be foolish, just hide for now and be gone when we leave.” You quietly scolded and his grip loosened.

He clenches his jaw, the most common hint to his annoyance, and said nothing. He allowed you to pull him up by the hand and drag him over to your wardrobe, shutting him in with a last apologetic kiss.

“Be good.” You uttered, and his gaze softened for a moment before the door shut in his face.

He could hear you shuffle around, dressing quickly to see your sister. He sucked his teeth angry. Did he deserve mistreatment? To an extent, yes, he could admit that. But this wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t you just— stay? Tell him to kill that bothersome knight and be done with him entirely. His fists clenched. He’d kill him— and soon. Right now even. Then he’d take you away and give you a nice little home with sweet little silver-haired babies. Criston was growing sick of waiting, it was eating him up inside. You affected him so severely, it was showing itself physically. He brought a hand up to the crimson liquid that had finally stopped leaking from his nose.

You were gone now— he knew this because he could feel when you were near. But someone was in your chambers, someone closer to his size. He could hear the metal clanking of heavy armor. The person was looking for something, an intruder most likely. But Criston was not the intruder here. The idea of someone who wasn’t him being in your space made him burn with anger. That was fine, he decided, he’d handle it. With balled up fists, he stepped out from the wardrobe.

x

“Has Ser Jessil been good to you, little sister?”

You shrugged at Rhaenyra, your chin resting in your hand as you leaned on the table. It wasn’t polite, but you were comfortable in her presence, “He’s fine, I suppose.”

“But you prefer that dog of yours.” Your sister teased. You could tell she didn’t like that— didn’t like Criston. You understood.

“He’s good, listens well.”

“Not for long— I can see it well. He’s a sick thing, sister.”

“I can handle him, he does as I ask.”

“He’s greedy, an oath breaker.”

You hummed in agreement, “He has pretty eyes.”

Rhaenyra scoffed with a grin at your reply, “He will try to steal you away. Not just that, but he’s also obvious. Painfully so. If I know, someone else does too. He needs to be put out. Be rid of him.”

“I… understand that he’s got troublesome feelings. But he’s become something of a pet to me now.” You pouted and your sister sighed, not fond of upsetting you.

“When I ascend the throne, he will be gone. I worry he’ll be your downfall.” She wasn’t being dramatic, she’d disliked the man for years and saw every bit of concerning behavior he displayed. She saw clearly his desperation to leave with you. When it comes time for you to marry, he’ll go mad.

You knew whatever you had with Criston wasn’t permanent, but to hear your elder sister give away her intentions of getting rid of him really struck you. “He’s brainless, Rhaenyra. Just a dog, truly. He can hardly read. He’s only a threat physically, and he would never hurt me.”

Rhaenyra sighed, wrinkling her nose in distaste for the man. She used to be like you, still was sometimes, but she would protect you from her mistakes. She would not allow any whispers at court of you being a whore and your children being bastards, not like her. Since the birth of Jacaerys, she’d grown just a bit more serious, and much more protective.

“You needn’t be literate to kill a man.” She replied after a brief silence.

You held back a huff. The truth was that Criston could read fine these days, though not nearly at the level you could. You’d only said that to give the illusion of harmlessness. Unfortunately, Rhaenyra would never buy it; she had seen the knights he’d bloodied during tournaments.

“I’ll be harder on him then, perhaps add a bit of distance. But, sister, he is important. As a member of the Kingsguard, his support and loyalty will aid your claim. One more soldier on our side— a good one.”

“I will not sacrifice you for my cause.”

“I’ve told you, he will not harm me—”

“It’s more complex than that—!”

It felt like you were 13 and 14 again, bickering over something that was caused by your sisters protectiveness.

No, you will not be coming with me. You will sleep in your bed and I will wake you myself come morning!

If that stable boy looks at you that way again, I will have father or Uncle Daemon take his eyes— probably Daemon.

No, sister. You are mad if you think I’m letting you anywhere near a wild dragon—!

You sometimes think that Criston and Rhaenyra hate one another because they are a bit similar.

“Nyra,” you groaned, head in hands, “I will fix it, you’re right, he has become a bit… extreme lately. But you must admit he’d be beneficial to our cause.”

Although Rhaenyra was legally the heir to the throne, there were already whispers of putting Alicent’s son, Aegon, on the throne in her place. Criston wasn’t very powerful politically, but he was a brilliant fighter and his words as a Kingsguard held just a bit of sway.

She furrowed her brows, “You’re too fond of him.”

You shrugged, standing up, “Perhaps. But I’m no fool; you come first. I will never flee with him.”

“And when he realizes that?”

You didn’t have an answer. You passed Harwin Strong on your way out, and bit your tongue to stop myself from calling out the hypocrisy.

What was the difference between her and Harwin vs you and Criston?

x

Well for starters, Harwin didn’t murder any man who entered Rhaenyra’s vicinity. Criston on the other hand…

By the time you returned to your chambers, the entire stone floor was red, the liquid seeping into your intricate carpet you’d had since you were a child. There was no body, suggesting that Criston had already gotten rid of it or the victim managed to escape. (But that was unlikely, Criston was a beast in a fight, and his temper was unmatched.)

“Princess.” Criston croaked from behind you, in the open doorway. He’d just arrived, and it took only one glance at him to know what he’d done. Blood covered his hands, arms, and chest. It was splattered from his face all the way down to his knees. He was in his civilian clothes still, rather than any armor due to being put on leave. His eyes were shiny, some sense of desperation in them, and he was fiddling with his red hands. Nervous. Why were you back so early? The sling for his arm was gone, though he surely still needed it.

“Is—” You cleared your throat. “Is he alive?”

But judging by the brain matter on the ground, you knew the answer was—

“No.” Direct and honest. He took a few steps forward, shutting the door behind him. You weren’t scared of him necessarily— you knew well enough at this point that he’d never hurt you. But he didn’t look quite human at the moment, so you took a step back.

Your simple shuffle backwards was enough to send him into a panic.

He dropped to his knees, blood soaking into his breeches as he inched closer, “My love— he was threat! He would’ve found me in here—” He babbled on about protecting you, begging for you not to be afraid. You let him talk, focused on the blood.

“Clean this up.” You finally muttered, patting him quickly on the head to avoid soaking yourself with the crimson liquid.

As much as a part of you wanted to coo at him ‘good dog’, you couldn’t. This was messy— emotional and obvious. Risky. He was a bad dog, a stupid one even. He wasn’t like Harwin— manageable. He was something else entirely. You liked him how he was, violently loyal and protective, but you couldn’t have it.

He quickly agreed to clean it and began to calm down, which led him to notice your own unease. He flinched when he saw how much blood seeped into your shoes and skirt, pulling you into his arms and placing you on your favorite stool.

He was cooing at you, “Sweet Princess, don’t worry about this, yes? I’ll rid you completely of this man, I swear it. I allowed his blood to soil your clothes, I’m sorry.”

Criston kissed at your collar bones down your arms to your palms.

“Criston,” his eyes shot up to meet yours. Big brown heart eyes. “No more of this, not in this castle.”

His hands tightened slightly around your wrists, “But you like it.” He muttered.

“It isn’t about that—!” You held your tongue, deciding to take a smarter approach, “My sweet Criston, the people in the Keep will soon notice a pattern, I cannot let that happen. My sister needs nothing in her way of that crown.”

He nearly scoffed, “Is it always about your sister and her crown? I have protected you again! From-from these perverts who wish to—”

“You’re the pervert-!”

“You love me! You love it! How you affect me— how you can physically see every thought that goes through my head about you! You love how perverted I am for only you! I see you— I love every part of you, even the part that gets off on a Kingsguard soiling his cloak for you!” Criston was shaking, “I am sick, and you cannot get enough! Just as I will never tire of you— I need you!”

There was silence, besides his heavy breathing. You didn’t expect such self-awareness, and you didn’t like it. You liked him better dumb, but it appeared he never was fully clueless. His brown eyes were wide and a shade darker than usual.

“Sit.” You commanded and he did, “Just clean this up.”

x

[taglist] @3abydolll @pearlstiare @caramelcandescence @eilishchaos @watercolorskyy

The Rhaenyra/Criston beef is gonna go crazy in the prequel

im hoping you guys noticed, but this chapter was meant to emphasize the lack of control the reader truly has on criston. like yeah, he worships you and is willing to do almost anything you say, but his urges control him more than anything else ever will. this is going to be a common theme in the future. i also wanted this chapter to show more daily life and readers relationship with rhaenyra compared to part i.

[atopvisenyashill]

a lot of people think the point of ned's character is to highlight the folly of unyielding loyalty to a broken sense of honor but if grrm wanted the point of ned's character to be his folly he wouldn't have people fighting for "ned's girl" in his memory out of love, if they're looking for "deconstruction of blind allegiance to unfounded codes of honour" that's BARRISTAN!

yes let’s rant okay.

i think people really undersell the effect r+l=j on who he is and how he acts. people understand it as a fun plot twist rather than like, the hinge upon which his life swings. this is partially bc we still technically don’t know that rhaegar & lyanna are jon’s parents so we haven’t seen its true effects and partially because the show treats it as just a fun plot twist. it Only exists to make drama between jon & dany, it has no actual effect on their characters or anyone around them. like, arya and sansa are not going to have a more emotional reaction to finding out ned was lying to their mom? that robb will never know the truth? that rickon died in jon’s arms and HE will never know the truth? and dany like, had NO REACTION to him being RHAEGAR’S son, the man she has admired and based herself off of (not that they include this aspect of them at all 🤧).

but it’s not a plot twist to ned, it’s his life. and the chain of events goes robert forgives and even condones the murders of aegon & rhaenys -> ned leaves -> lyanna begs him to protect jon -> lyanna dies -> ned immediately reconciles with robert. it’s like that one sansa & starvation graphic i made, im talking about the action and effect here. why does ned move so goofy regarding robert? is it because he has unyielding loyalty to robert’s regime? or is it because he’s scared robert will find out he’s been lying to him for fifteen years? is it folly for ned to be against child killing? or is it a moral code that is Correct but at odds with the world he lives in, and based on his own fears of Jon being killed? like, people are always saying he’s too honorable, too loyal to robert but - he’s not! every moment people point to about him being ~too honorable~ are moments he is clearly acting out of fear of robert’s temper! he does not cover for robert’s temper, he does not allow robert to get away with shit, he spends every step in the capital arguing with robert until robert gets so annoyed he straight up leaves!

his life is before and after, and in the after he finds that he cannot live with the sort of man robert is, something lyanna knew long before ned. THATS his story. it’s not loyalty to a code that is based on nothing, it’s this frozen fear of discovery because he knows that if he sits and thinks too hard about it, he will realize that his best friend is a monster. it’s about ned REALIZING the code is based on nothing. what matters is not what everyone else thinks honor is, it’s what You as a person can live with morally, and it’s why, when he’s sitting in the dark dungeons, his thoughts are with lyanna, with jon, with sansa - he compromised his honor for love once, and he does it one more time before he dies. It’s not the “honorable” thing but it’s the right thing, and Ned’s story is very much about realizing he cannot do what is right while he is tied to Robert Baratheon.

[fernslivers]

MODERN MIZU THOUGHTS

Kicking off my Hyperfixation with some silly little thoughts about modern-day Mizu!

Just a mix of headcanons and imagines, maybe I'll write some of them out into proper imagines if there's any interest! I have some spicier movie imagines already partly written!

Let me know if you like them, I definitely have MANY more thoughts--

This is my first time attempting to post my writings like this, so apologies for any errors.

(TW: canon-typical mention of SA due to Mizu's backstory)

So, of course, in the modern day, she wouldn't be as immediately ostracized the same way, but...

The closest I could think of was that her father was one of four very rich men/CEOs and her mother/baby Mizu were targeted to try to keep the "affair" quiet.

Still believes herself to be the product of SA (I know there's speculation among some fans as to whether this will be true, but since it's what she knows in the show, I'll just say that's true as far as she knows here too)

This still left her with a similar huge complex about her self image, bc she knows she has her dad's eyes, and that he got her mother killed

Went into the system after her mother’s mysterious “death”, got adopted by Eiji after she just wouldn't stop sneaking away from foster care to bother him/stare at his swords

He's still a swordsmith because people DO still do that in modern day. It just would make him even more famous/special.

The whole thing with M*k*o did happen, they divorced, she is aware that that woman is not her biological mother and they are No-Contact

Since she knows that was a maid, she still has the belief that her mother was killed for the reason listed above and still wants revenge.

I debated SO HARD about what she would go to college for. Because her two biggest passions are the sword-making, and revenge, both of which are hard to translate to modern day by themselves, much less in a combination.

(I thought about business, like maybe she wanted to take down a CEO father by taking over his company, or about law enforcement/law school, but they all felt wrong for her character.)

Because let's be honest, those four men in modern days would be involved in organized crime, so Mizu would probably just go straight for that kind of situation as well in order to tail them.

She isn't one to play by the rules of ANY organization

So, she's involved in organized crime on the down-low while going to college.

She doesn't work for anyone in particular, but she does run in shady circles and knows certain names and places. Nobody knows much about her, though.

She's definitely made enemies.

She's only in university at all because Eiji demanded she do something good with her life, and she can't stand to disappoint him so she does try somewhat hard to balance both.

I saw someone else on here say she would pursue Materials Engineering, and I think that’s probably a great option for technical sword smithing. (Sorry, I can't remember who it was, but it was NOT my suggestion.) That or something involving Metalworking in art (my fav cuz it's what I do).

She does sword training privately. She's not in any clubs on campus because, similar to in canon, she prefers a mix of them and actually does use her skills when she's "working", not just for what she considers play-sparring.

She's an older student that went back to school after her divorce.

DON'T ask her about that.

You two meet because you're both looking for a roommate halfway through a semester.

You had a nasty cheating-related breakup that culminated in you kicking your ex AND old RM out, leaving you with an apartment you couldn't pay for alone.

She used to room with Ringo, but just simply could. not. stand. Ringo’s intensely social atmosphere. He's a culinary student who is very respected in classes, and constantly inviting people over for dinner. (Edit: This was also partially someone else's!)

She noticed your ad that specified looking for someone quiet, in an off-campus place that offered a small courtyard for her training.

Perfect.

Your first thought when you meet her is “god damn.”

A tall drink of water with gorgeous eyes and a voice like crushed silk.

Haha I'm in danger

But you keep that under wraps. You tell yourself that you don't need to be rebounding with the person that just moved in.

So much for a roommate that doesn't offer any distractions, though. Her training in the yard pretty much means you get zero work done in that time unless you close the curtains.

…She is very quiet, at least. Even if she keeps odd hours with her strange "job".

However, Ringo is going to be stopping by almost every day to make sure she eats, so expect a lot of humming and a LOT of friendly questions.

Ringo is actually responsible for the two of you getting to know each other initially, because he asks questions of you that Mizu won't ask, and subtly makes sure to do it when Mizu is around to hear the answers.

She pretends to ignore you both, but can't help but tune in a bit.

He also chats a bit about Mizu, as long as it isn't anything she's told him is a secret, and ignores her glaring at him.

She stays stoic about it, but secretly she's rather flustered when you seem interested in a positive way by what Ringo blabs to you about her.

She also appreciates that you don't bug her about it when Ringo isn't around even if she kind of wishes you did

He is Very Excited that Mizu now has TWO friends! :)

Mizu acts annoyed by him, but she is secretly pleased when you seem to like him.

She would not fw you if you didn't. He's like a beloved sibling; she gets to complain about him, but she'll fight anyone else that doesn't like him.

You finally get to ACTUALLY start becoming friends when you both happen to stay on campus over a break.

You aren't on good terms with your family, so you assume you'll have the place to yourself, but...

Walking by Mizu’s room you notice that she's still here.

Her door is open for once because she also assumed you would be gone.

After staring at each other in mutual surprise, you awkwardly ask her if she wanted to maybe hang out over dinner and watch a movie or something.

She would normally have said no, but with nothing else to do over break, she chose to focus on doing homework continually (She is perpetually behind because of those Extracurricular Revenge Activities of hers), and she is just so done with it

So she awkwardly agrees

And you learn the hard way why Mizu is not allowed in the kitchen EVER.

You try, you really do, to keep that first bite in your mouth, but…

She shamefacedly asks if you're alright while you're still coughing over the garbage can, but your coughing turns to giggling.

You joke to her that you're actually glad to know she isn't perfect at everything, and she seems surprised that you admire anything about her to begin with

You're willing to start over ON YOUR OWN, but she insists that would be unfair and orders you both takeout.

Since she bought dinner, you insist that she gets to pick the movie.

She kind of wants to put on that new slasher flick that just came out on streaming, but she isn't sure what you like and you seem like such a sweet little thing.

And after nearly killing you via spices, she didn't want you to think she was a TOTAL psycho.

(She doesn't want to talk about why she even cares what you think.)

So she chose a documentary on modern sword-smithing that she knew Eiji had been interviewed for.

(This surprised you, because you were EXPECTING her to choose a horror. She just seems like the type. And maybe you were hoping for an excuse to snuggle closer…)

But this is actually really interesting, and you find yourself fascinated. You never knew about the details and craftsmanship that went into this!

She tries to sit quietly, as usual, but she just can't resist the urge to point out Eiji when he appears.

She's just too proud of her sword-father. That pride is obvious in her voice and makes her seem almost soft for once.

This makes you feel ever so slightly brave, and leads to you pausing after his section (because you don't want to talk over him), and asking all sorts of questions.

Normally she wouldn't be thrilled about this, but she can't resist questions about Eiji the way she can about herself.

Somehow this leads her to ask some minor question about your major, related to something you told Ringo, and she's startled at the jolt that runs through her when you light up, just beaming at her.

“I didn’t know you listened to any of that!”

You start excitedly explaining, but she's distracted by the strange thrumming in her chest at the way you smiled at her.

(This is not going to be a problem for her. It's NOT. )

[crazyk-imagine]

Mean

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Fem!reader

Characters: Fem!reader, Paul Lahote, Sam Uley, Emily Young, Jared Cameron, Embray Call, Tiny Tim (made up)

Warnings: Reader knows about the supernatural, implications of dead parent, ex's inspire people, Sam and Emily are adorable, am I making them my favorites bc of the way I write them lol, Paul and Reader are adorable, Paul is a little shit, so is Embry and Jared, no one can act normal around a sassy person

Word Count: 1,231

A/N: Was I listening to Mean by Taylor Swift? You can't prove anything

I've had this ready for a week, but shit kept happening at work man ughhhhhh

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was meant to be, or so you thought.

You blink, staring at the ceiling not sure why your ex came to mind.

He was partial to the reason for your move the gloomy town (which you enjoyed more than the sunny state you were in) but not the entire reason.

If only your mom could see you now, working hard and still keeping true to who you are.

You push yourself out of bed, needing to get started on your day.

-

You finish up and jot down another line, knowing it's slowly turned into a "revenge" song.

You exit your place and hop in your truck, heading down to your favorite person's place.

"Emily, your other honey is home."

Sam lets out a dry laugh. "Funny as always."

"I know, it's one of the perks of being my friend."

"Are going to do..." You snatch a muffin from the tray. "Sam things?"

The couple glance at one another, curious if you know.

"Yeah, we won't be back till later-" He doesn't finish as the boys burst through the door. Almost all ignore you, not aware of your presence.

You mumble, "now I know why you're ready to feed an army."

The boys freeze, all conversations stopping. "Uh-"

"Who's the girl?" Jared asks, snaking a muffin.

You raise a brow, picking at the muffin, breaking it into bite size pieces. "What a question."

"Who's the sassy girl?" The same guy asks.

"How do you deal with idiots?"

Emily snickers, scanning over the pack for their expressions.

"Good thing Paul's not here or else he'd flip a lid," Embry mutters.

You push yourself off the stool and grab your bag. "Later, Em. Bye bye, Sammy."

You wave them off before glancing at the group. "Such an interesting... gang you have here."

You spin around, smirking to yourself, not wanting to let the cat (wolf) out of its bag. "I heard there's going to be a full moon tonight."

Or maybe you don't care if they know you know.

"Does she-"

The door slams shut.

You shake your head, smirking to yourself, proud of your teasing. You bump into a body, not entirely paying attention. "Sorry." You pass by the person and hop in your car, not realizing the electricity he felt in that simple touch.

You look up after putting your keys in the ignition, only to find a dark pair of eyes on yours.

The subtle feeling through your body alerts you.

"Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap." You have to force your gaze away from his. "Please don't be able to read lips. Oh, crap. They can hear." You start pulling out and make it back to your house.

-

Weeks go by and you screen another one of Emily's calls.

"I'll call her when this passes," you mutter, writing another line. You slam your pencil down, "who am I kidding? It's never going to stop."

You don't want to answer her and send another lie.

Boo Thang #2 <;3

'Sorry, not feeling good. Will text later.' 2:59pm Sent Read

A knock on your door surprises you.

You carefully make your way to the door, scanning through the peephole. Your back's flat against the door. "Why the hell is he here?"

"We need to talk."

"I don't think so."

"You know more than you let on."

"So?"

"We need to talk."

"Can I just call you?"

"No, Emily's been trying for days, and it hasn't worked. Let me in."

You scoff, "not with that attitude."

He growls under his breath, "fine. Please let me in?"

"No."

"You're testing my patience."

"Go test it out with someone else."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"You gotta be more specific bud."

"I don't like that name."

"Bud?"

"Stop it."

You smirk, "bud."

He knocks on your door with more force, trying to get one of your neighbors to come out so they can tell him to stop and make you let him in.

You snarl as the door swings open, "stop it you, idiot." You yank him in, earning a confident smirk from him.

"I don't like this look on you. You think you've won."

"Who says I haven't?"

"Me. I am the one who decides since this is my place."

"Living here alone? Really?"

You shrug, "parents died."

"Oh," he clears his throat, "sorry."

"It's fine. Not your fault."

"So, uh- what do you know?"

"I used to visit when I was a kid and heard the stories because of my cousin."

"You know?"

"That we happen to be united forever essentially, kind of hard not to, not gonna lie."

"Are you upset?"

You furrow your brows, "what do you mean?"

"Your imprints with the hothead. The one with "anger" issues. The list goes on." His brows furrow in annoyance, the pout on his lip making him look... cute.

"Who?"

He shocked you don't know who he is. "Lahote?"

"Paul?" You ask, not entirely sure if you got the right name or not.

"Oh, so you do know."

He sighs, "great."

"Barely, I just remember your guy's names from the elders at the meetings."

"How long has it been since you were in town?"

You shrug, "few years. I haven't been out of the house as much since my life went to crap," you offer a sarcastic smile.

"I feel like I've brought the mood down, do you- do you want to go out? I know this one place with uh- with decent music." He tells you the name and it takes all of you to not smile.

"Let's go, but we take my car."

He lets out a dramatic sigh, "fine."

-

You two arrive half an hour before you have to go on stage.

You make up an excuse and say you're going to be right back, needing to use the little girl's room.

"Next up, is one of our favorites," the mc, Tiny Tim (your favorite guy there) announces.

You walk across stage, confusing Paul but not Emily and Sam (who told him to take you there if he got far enough). They cheer you on while listening to your song.

All you are is mean And a liar, and pathetic, and alone in life And mean, and mean, and mean, and mean

You make it back to your seat beside your wolf.

"Where'd you learn to do that?"

You shrug, not liking the attention on you.

"That was- that was amazing."

"It was nothing."

"No- no, that was really good." Emily sneaks up behind you. "And that's saying something, Paul doesn't like to use his words to express his emotions."

The man frowns. "We get it. We get it."

You roll your eyes, "stop it, you two."

-

You two make it back your place. "I should at least drop you off."

He shakes his head, "I'm not that far from you."

"I don't know if I believe that."

"Then believe ne when I say I can run and not get tired."

You narrow your eyes before turning your head to hide your chuckle. "Get out of here, you idiot."

You hear him close the door and stare into the woods, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

The only wolf standing between the path of trees sticks out and you know it's him.

You shake your head, going into your home. "Idiot."

You swear you hear him huff.

[coffeegnomee]

For months we (I) have wondered why Mapicc ended his Mawn/Zaun video saying "Me and Zam had made up, but it didn't mean we could team. If I could go back in time I would have never done mawn, but now that I have full control over spawn, I can't just stop”

They had a conversation that day, which was partially included in the video, where Zam forgave Mapicc for Mawn, but he cut out the part where they specifically became teammates again. Why would he do a complete 180 and seemingly ignore that conversation?

And then there's this Sunday. The first convo back since the Mawn video. 1:50:00 

ZAM: they have no grudge against you”  MAPICC: “bro thats just not true”  ZAM: “it is. Its it cause-”  MAPICC: “It’s not true just cause they said it to you bro, I’m sorry”

They don't not have a grudge just bc they said they had no grudge.

MAPICC: ‘so it’s like, it’s just like, how can I sit here with my pride and go to pangi and derap after I harassed them all season like a dickhead.”

Mapicc doesn’t think he can be forgiven. He doesn’t believe he should be forgiven. What he’s done is too much. How could anyone just let it go, just like that? 

He has plenty of pride for sure. Everything, everything, has been stripped from him these past weeks, he has been completely broken. All he has left is his pride. 

But his pride covers up the deeper belief, why would they actually forgive me? His pride, reputation, aura, puts him up as a strong pvper, justifies his chaos. Without pvp, who is he? Is he anything without it? 

Even if he was a dick to pangi and derap, he is set apart from them. A pvper. The one who kills chunguses, not a chungs himself. 

But if he joins them, he admits that they are the same, that he needs chunguses to win, and his pride would take a blow. 

But it prevents him from seeing that he is forgivable. That he can be a dick and be forgiven. That people can care about him and want him around despite what he’s done to them. 

Because it’s not really about pangi and derap. 

MAPICC: “but I like to think I’m the most loyal member of the lifesteal smp. When it comes to minecraft, like I feel like I only betray when there’s actually a decent reason in my head so I- I just wanted to say like my bad for the zaun thing that was like actually fucked up [crouches away] and I don't know why I did that”

Caught up in loosing Zam to Derap, all those months ago, (vod GREYS) Mapicc started spiraling the second Zam told him he had a new team with Derap. 

48:30 12/4/24 ZAM: “i have a new teammate” MAPICC: “okay”  Zam says derap has plans for reviving wemmbu. MAPICC: “okay then what the fuck am i supposed to do”  MAPICC: “what if i did something… [thinking] crazy” Mapicc crits zam ZAM: “why are you hitting me after all of that?” MAPICC: ‘because if I hit any of them I’m scared they're gonna drop”  A little later MAPICC: “okay well then I’m confused are we working on this together or no?” ZAM: “I don't know. [..]” MAPICC: ”no I’m saying- I’m saying me and you. Cause if you have a team I assumed I had to make my own plan.” ZAM: “I guess?” MAPICC: “so I’m working on making my own plan. But I just don't know what to do”  A little later MAPICC: “[to himself] who can I kill..” ZAM: “why are you always trying to kill someone mapicc?” MAPICC: “I dunno.. Maybe I feel….. Underachieving. Without it. Like I didn't get anything done to day unless I get another kill” ZAM: “but you have 20 hearts” MAPICC: “yea but the killing is changing the world”  MAPICC: “yea but it’s like I need to find like what I want to do right now. Like what do I care about [...] it lowkey feels like I don't care about anything right now” 

6 days later he’s bringing wardens to spawn. He has a new video idea. 

On the first full day of Mawn chat asks Mapicc won’t this ruin his team with Zam, to which Mapicc responds, “I’m not teamed with Zam” 

Oh tragedies of tragedies. As the arc unfolds Zam again and again proves that he’s not fighting against Mapicc. Again and again says that he doesn’t want to fight Mapicc. 

Over and over Mapicc thinks Zam must be going against him. 

He teams up with Flame to harass Zam more, giving Flame authority in Mawn specifically knowing that Flame wanted to torment Zam. 

And then Zaun day. And Zam calls him back and tells him they’re still teamed. Mapicc apologizes for Mawn.

And then Zam disappears. Mapicc gets the mace. He thinks Flame is teamed with him, his new teammate for a new era without Zam who left him for Derap anyway. 

And Flame betrays. Void trap, duped on, no empire. Nobody. 

Everything that has happened these past weeks feels like it has been curated to destroy Mapicc personally. It dives at the core of everything Mapicc is and has been. Every bad thing that Mapicc has ever done on lifesteal was done against him, and all within one week. 

He’s made logout traps, he’s duped. The one thing he’d never done was betray a teammate for no reason.

But by the time Flame betrayed him, he knew he had done that too. 

If he can admit to himself that Zam was always his teammate, then he betrayed his teammate for no reason. 

His core value, his deepest pride, “I never betray I’m only ever betrayed”. shattered. How could he have done that.

How can Zam truly forgive him for that? How can anyone? Just because Zam says it doesn’t mean it’s true bro. 

If Zam needs him for pvp he will be there. It’s the one thing left to him. But if Zam needs him as a teammate? A friend? He can’t. He just can’t. He will uphold that they are teamed, but he can’t be there. 

It is too painful to look at a world where Zam holds no grudge. Because he should hold a grudge, he should hate Mapicc he should go have fun with his new team. He shouldn’t need Mapicc.  MAPICC: “that’s stupid. and irrational” There’s no world in which Zam could actually want him just for himself. 

I said long ago that Mapicc has been getting the Princezam treatment this season. A story has unfolded that directly destroys everything about himself and makes him encounter himself. Absurd situations make every new plot point more destructive: Zam going from one exploit team to an even worse exploit team? Literally how.

Mapicc going from one team to another to a third all with the hope of fighting and one after another it gets worse and worse. An empire that is afraid to team fight, a zam who doesn’t want to fight and who holds him back, a flame who straight out betrays him and never gave him even one fight. Everything that makes Mapicc Mapicc has been cut out and stomped on in the dirt. 

And on top of it it’s the emotional toll of being wrong. In s4 Zam left team awesome bc he hated exploits and didn’t believe Mapicc and Ro were actually going to give them up. Then Mapicc gave them up infront of him on the nether roof. But Zam betrayed anyway. And then Zam finds himself once again on the exploit team, this time not believing that Vitalasy would not go evil and use the exploits. He knew Vi would. Vi had to. He was going to be the villain and Zam had to go against him. But Vi wasn’t the villain. He banned himself off to prove it. Zam betrayed for no reason. 

If Vi had truly been the villain, Zam’s betrayal would have been justified in his eyes. Had Zam truly gone against Mawn, Mapicc’s betray would be justified in his eyes.

It’s not the same story, but there’s themes for both characters of making decisions and having to live with the consequences. Of trying to stand up for themselves, of trying to be who they are even when they don’t know what that means. Of failing. Of feeling remorse. Of needing forgiveness while not believing they deserve it. All while lifesteal spins and hands them a tale that is particularly devastating just to them. 

Just as Zam would have had to be a different person in order to not betray Eclipse, Mapicc would have had to be a different person to not betray Zam.

Zam had to face his own people pleasing and fears of communication and deep hatred of exploits. 

Mapicc had to face his own jealously about Derap and his pride. His pride can’t let him admit how much he needs Zam. How much he need someone. But most specifically how when that person is Zam everything is better. 

And it doesn't matter what zam says about them being teamed or wanting him, Zam has a team. It's just like GREYS.

I wrote a partial post on my break about how Mapicc needs a duo. At his core he needs someone. When Flame rejoined Mawn it reignited the fire in Mapicc to uphold Mawn rules and mess with Bacon. Whether or not it was to test Flame’s loyalty, him being there reignited Mawn. 

And even in other seasons, there was only one day (maybe 2) of castle arc where Mapicc didn’t have either Ro or Spoke by his side. All of Gucci he had Bacon. All of Abyss he had Zam. All of the stalking Zam arc he had Bacon. Earlier this season he had Zam until Zam got Derap. The one time he killed Derap at the titanic he had Chief. I mean for goodness sake all he needed was a 3 heart Jepex to go to spawn with the mace that one day.

Without someone, Mapicc has no direction.

He needs someone to talk to, have someone to bounce ideas off of, to encourage the good ones (and the bad ones) with relish, someone to log on when he needs help, someone to make a boring task less dull. It gives him purpose to play this server with someone else, with a unified goal/video idea.

He becomes the most himself when he has someone by his side.

And what sucks is that the mace arc broke specifically that part of him. It was like the Server was telling him he’s trash and that nobody should be friends with him. It’s been confirmed that he is unforgivable and unlovable. Flame pretended to be his friend. MAPICC: ”I know he’s better than me but I just kind of thought he was on my side. And he was my friend which was nice.”

Completely alone.

Where oh where will this go next. Even if nobody can convince him back this season, mapicc has been forever changed.

[ofbreathandflame-archive]

What do you think of Tamlin as a High Lord?

Hi anon!

It's hard to quite talk objectively about his performance as a High Lord, as this series is politically-consistent, nor motivated, for that matter. In short, I don't think we're supposed to pay attention to the politics, save for when its convenient.

But -- when I zoom out from the love story, the protagonist-centered moral compass, and look objectively to how a character reacts to situations, I believe that Tamlin's actions make...a lot of sense. I would even go as far as to say -- given his situation(s) -- I quite agree/understand why he makes the decisions he does.

For example, when Feyre goes UTM, his strategy of pretending not to know Feyre made a lot of sense! Think about it: Amarantha is a passionately jealous person. If Tamlin confessed his love to Feyre on day one, Amarantha would have just killed Feyre. We know this because at the end of the novel, when Tamlin expresses his love for Feyre...Amarantha immediately tortures and kills Feyre without question, without even trying to uphold her end of the bargain. If anything - throughout the events of UTM, Feyre's irrelevance partially saves her life. Amarantha forgets about her, and only drags her out when its time to complete the bargain. Tamlin's ambivalence meant that Amarantha got nothing to torture her with; and when Amarantha is given information about Feyre, she uses it to further devise her trials (such as Rhysand telling Amarantha that Feyre is a hunter....and then sending the Wyrm after Feyre, her illiteracy, which I won't place entirely on Rhys bc we truly have no idea how Amaratha knew). Imagine if Tamlin spilled the beans, Amarantha would have gotten Unknown Daemati #217 to crack his mind open, and now Amarantha knows about not just Feyre, but her father, her sisters, and the entire human congregation living by the wall.

Secondly, Tamlin was the only one of the High Lords to remain cognizant of Amarantha--which is the reason Rhysand was wary, to begin with. And even under heavy watch, he still allows refugees from other courts to take refuge at his own home. He still works through the curse, despite how many men he was losing, and ONLY stops because he was tired of sacrificing his friends with no end result. He even feels guilty about having to make Feyre fall in love, so much so that Lucien has to tell him to do it, even though he knows (to some extent) that Feyre killed Andras with hate in her heart. He still defends the borders (which ofc is bare minimum)

Thirdly, when he realizes he cannot fend against Hybern's vast army, he staunches the flow of Hybern soldiers into his land through his alliance, all the while, still collecting stacks and stacks of information to send back to the other High Lords. And I should note -- he doesn't have to do this as the bargain would at least ensure the safety of his people (and please don't get me started on the flimsy nature of bargains in this series, because Hybern should have faced consequences for breaking it). And even AFTER the Nigh court ruins the operation, Tamlin still comes, still saves Feyre, and STILL brings Rhysand back from the dead.

And even with Ianthe - I never know what game the story is playing. I definitely think its a blunder to trust her, but WAR made it pretty clear that Tamlin was wary of Ianthe, and probably was only using her to cement his alliance with the King. While I think Ianthe attempts to manipulate Tamlin, and does to some extent, in relation to his relationship with Feyre, I don't know that he was completely inept in that situation. I also think its a weird plot hole to have Tamlin defer to a woman, while making the argument that Tamlin is a misogynistic asshole who hates to see women in power. As with his dynamic with Ianthe - we know that's not true. Especially because the story is arguing that Tamlin had an issue with Feyre being in power, when in reality, he seems to have no issue taking political advice from a women, and seems to actually take in to consideration what Ianthe is saying, though its not the greatest thing. The difference between how much power Ianthe had in Spring, and how little power the leading women of the IC have is quite astounding. Like yeah Ianthe is evil, but why is she pulling more strings than the Second-in-Command eldritch monster, or Third-in Command warrior princess?

Look - the politics in the series starts on uneven footing - but I just feel like Tamlin made very reasonable decisions despite being in completely unreasonable situations. Like, he's placed in the lose-lose situations, but ultimately always makes the right decision. And in the realm of this story -- with the other High Lords as a metric -- I think Tamlin is a pretty good High Lord. I think I can come to that conclusion, but I'm up for discussions if anyone disagrees.

[authorautumn]

https://www.tumblr.com/authorautumn/780776592868802560/crk-characters-playing-minecraft?source=share

Saw this, adored this, loved the hcs and now I gotta ask for my own...

Would ask the usual character x reader hcs request but after seeing this prompt I just gotta try it!

White lily, affogato, Caramel arrow, dark choco, royal margarine, Clotted cream playing mine craft with you hcs plz!

May ask for this hc with other characters too because I got a LOT of characters I adore...

Also welcome to the cookie run x reader community! I've never seen anyone post specific senario hcs like this before and felt like I just had to give it a shot!

CRK characters playing Minecraft

A/n: I'm very surprised I gained requests so soon! Honestly I loved these cookies and defo had them on my team for a while. Thanks for reaching out, anon!

꓃⁠ Genre : fluffy fluff

꓃⁠ Summary: My headcannons on how these cookie run characters would play Minecraft with you

꓃⁠ Characters: white lily, affogato, caramel arrow, and dark choco

- [ ❇️⚪ ] White Lily Cookie -

• this woman is so lost 😭 she accidentally broke the torches in your home and a creeper spawned in

• "oops..sorry" is all she could slip out before the creeper blows y'all up 💔

• Very well when gaining resources, I feel like she would wander off while you build a house and come back with random valuables from chests she found

• saw a bunny and tried to feed it but accidentally killed it off 😞

• her head would rest on your shoulder as the both of you play, occasionally tracing her thumb in tiny circles on your knee

[ FAV MINECRAFT CHARACTER] : bunny and pigs! She absolutely adores them so don't let her see you kill one..

- [🔮] Affogato Cookie -

• okay let's be real. As soon as this guy sees anything valuable you have, he's taking it.

• you'll go back to your chest at the end of the night and your diamonds will be gone 😞 With high suspicion, you turn to affogato only to see him wearing a full diamond armor set 💔

• "well, I only deserve the best. I guess we'll just have to find you some more, hmm hmm" He assures with a slight chuckle underneath his breath

• he's the "I'm-just-here-for-the-ride" type of player. He'll see you fighting a whole mob outside and stay in to make items he'll never use or share

• if dating, will occasionally kiss your forehead to make up for his selfishness (it kinda works, but you never told him)

[FAV MINECRAFT CHARACTER] : no personal favorites by he absolutely despises endermen.

- [ 🟤🏹 ] Caramel Arrow -

• Literally one of the best cookies to play with. She always makes sure you have new weapons and armor, often giving her items to you ❤️‍🩹🙂‍↕️

• as soon as she found a bow in the game, that's all she ever used ( exceptionally her sword from time to time for close combat).

• one night you found her using the enchantment table to upgrade her bow. "what? I gotta make sure I can protect you, right?" was the only excuse she could come up with (which was partially true).

• never afraid to go in a cave. 🙂‍↔️ She'll put a torch up as she goes and you probably won't see her for another 45 minutes (unless you ventured off with her)

[ FAV MINECRAFT CHARACTER ] : skeletons and villagers.

- [🍫🗡️] Dark Choco Cookie -

• once he gets used to the game, he gets more comfortable letting his guard down. I can imagine him having a bit of trouble at first, and needing some guidance.

• always makes sure your in his sight, often asking "where..are you?" before he explored too far without your character by his side ❤️‍🩹😢

• I feel like he would have 64 blocks of every type of wood in his inventory 💀"just in case". He doesn't like to stay in the same place for too long and avoids villages bc you like to camp there 💔

•if dating, you're most likely resting on his shoulder and he'll sometimes rest his head on yours too

[FAV MINECRAFT CHARACTER] : none. He just enjoys your company!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[itsmiyamore]

— cried like a baby (coming home from the bar

"Said I'm fine but it wasn't true, I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you" — Cruel Summer, Taylor Swift miniseries m.list | part 1

a/n: the next part of my drunk!Sakusa miniseries :) although most of the series is isolated drabbles, this is a semi-part 2 of the first one (though there may be minor discrepancies bc I didn't originally intend for it to be a direct continuation). I hope you all like it!

-> this fic is part of the @ficsforgaza initiative and is partially sponsored by @strawberrystepmom <3 sorry for the wait and thank you for your donation! Info on the next wip I'm hoping to get sponsored is here.

Sakusa Kiyoomi doesn't know what's wrong with him.

You've been near him all night, dizzyingly within reach and yet, Sakusa knows it is not his place to reach out. You're wearing that perfume—the one he gave you one Christmas years ago, at a time when everything was better and he didn't have conflicting feelings about you.

God, he hates feelings.

He wonders if you remember—he hopes you remember—because he remembers having to call Komori’s sister for advice on which scent to choose. He remembers your smile as you sprayed some on your wrist and brought it up to your face to sniff. He remembers you wearing it that night—the night he was so stupid that he let it all go.

But none of that matters anymore, because last Christmas he didn't get you anything, and he hasn't been close enough to you to know whether you still wore the perfume or not.

Until now.

He's sobered up enough to be a little more aware of you helping him up the stairs to your apartment and to be a little panicked because why did he tell you he was fine with spending the night?

You're kind, letting him stay because he's too alcoholically impaired—despite everything he's ever done to you. You just don't want to be driving in a storm, he tries to reason. It's your job to take care of him. But it's not; it hasn't been in a long time since you stopped being a manager for MSBY, something which Sakusa would know better than anyone if he had been a bit sounder of mind.

Once inside, you somehow manage to wrestle off his shoes and lead him to the kitchen. It's an unfamiliar kitchen, one with white tiles that Sakusa would have complained against. There’s a faint smell of lemons, and he thinks briefly of dancing and your laughter—a memory, or perhaps just his imagination.

“Stay here, alright?” you say quietly, accommodating to his current sensitive hearing levels. You set him down at the table, leaving to get him a towel, he supposes.

Your apartment is small—cozy, he supposes. The right amount of space for a single person. A sense of relief rushes through him at the observation and he lets out a satisfied hum.

(He chooses to ignore the fact that he has no right to be happy over your lack of a roommate.)

“Here, I think this will fit you,” the door thumps as you close it behind you, already changed out of your wet clothes. In your arms are a towel and what he assumes to be dry clothing for him. Your fingers burn wherever they come in contact with his skin as you help him take his shirt off and he shudders, hoping you’ll assume he's just cold from the rain.

Sakusa feels self-conscious—how long has it been since you've been intimate like this? Since you've been near him like this?

The shirt you provide fits perfectly, and Sakusa is too busy at first relishing in the familiar scent of your favorite laundry detergent (one you had stopped buying when he was around because the other one cleans better, he’d argued) to wonder why you have a men's size shirt in your apartment.

You're drying his hair when the question finally crosses his mind and he tenses. Your movements come to a stop, and you lean forward curiously. “What's wrong?” you ask, voice right by his ear, and Sakusa shivers.

He's drunk, and he misses you—he misses you like he never thought he would and it's all his fault for being a grand, stupid idiot.

But a grand, stupid idiot is what he is now as the alcohol rushes through his system, so when he says, “I'm fine,” and you insist again, he turns to ask you, “Who's shirt is this?”

This time, you tense up, gaze becoming unreadable. You stand up straight, resuming your previous motions, though much more stiff than before. “What does it matter to you, Sakusa?” your voice is clipped, and his heart clenches at the way you say his name. “You are nothing to me to be asking that question.”

He has nothing to say to that because you’re right and he regrets it—regrets asking, regrets agreeing to come with you, regrets getting drunk in the first place; but most of all, he regrets letting you go.

So, Sakusa cries.

The tears fall one by one, fat and warm as they slide down his face, then eventually he's fully weeping: hands clenched into fists on his lap and hunched over in an attempt to conceal the way he cannot control his emotions.

You're stunned, he can feel your startled gaze burning into him as a loud whimper claws its way out of his throat.

He sits up—burying his face in his hands as his body shakes violently with each sob. You’ve repositioned yourself in front of him and you’re hugging him, but he can barely register it over how much he hates himself right now. It's a disgusting feeling bubbling in his chest—a self-loathing that he's managed to suppress all these years you've been gone.

Because he's the only one to blame for you leaving.

So he takes advantage of the fact that you're here now—you're here with him—and he buries himself into you, trying to engrave anything his memory might have missed before you let him go and he has to lose you again.

“I miss you,” he sobs, “I miss you so much.” The circles you're tracing on his back pause for a moment, almost imperceptible, but he feels it and you sigh shakily.

“Sakusa,” you say. It's only his name, but it feels like a warning, and Sakusa might actually lose his mind if you ever finish your statement.

“No, please,” he begs, “I'm an idiot.”

A rueful giggle bursts through your lips, and as he glances up at you, he notices you're starting to cry too. His hand cups your face, thumb brushing away a stray tear, and you bite your lip. You seem to debate it in your head, but whatever voice of reason usually reigns seems to huff in defeat, because you lean into his touch with another sigh, eyes squeezing shut.

“I'm sorry,” he says, and it feels like salvation.

“You're an asshole,” you giggle tearfully again. “You broke my heart, you know that?”

“I know,” Sakusa’s reply is quick. “I know.”

His forehead rests on yours, angling his face so your noses brush against each other, your lips so near—the nearest they've been in too many years.

And he cannot wait any longer.

It's hesitant, really only the whisper of a kiss as his fear pounds through his body, but you respond, pushing back against him with more force. You throw your arms around his neck, not breaking the kiss as you position yourself on his lap. He groans at the sudden weight, pulling away and tilting his head back, and you take the opportunity to place soft kisses on his jaw and neck. Your hands cling to his shirt as you make your way back to his lips, both breathless and shuddering at the sudden overdose of each other.

“It's yours,” you whisper, leaning back, refusing to meet his eyes. “The shirt. It's yours. You left it and I…” This time you do look up at him. “I couldn't bring myself to give it back.

Sakusa thinks you've never looked more beautiful than you do now, perched on his lap with your hair still wet from the rain, a towel on your shoulders, and hands fiddling nervously as you peer up at him, lips bright and red—all because of him, and only him. So Sakusa leans in to kiss you again, because what does it matter whose shirt it is anyway, when he's the one here that you're kissing?

“How are you feeling?” you ask softly as he pulls away. “Is your head still hurting?”

He just hums as you hold his face in your hands. “I'm fine.”

You laugh—a proper, full, heavenly laugh that Sakusa swears could beat any symphony or concerto in the world in terms of sonic beauty. “Liar,” you accuse through chortles, “Look at you, sopping wet all over my chair and floor and drunk out of your mind—I don't think you're fine at all.”

He smiles, pulling you into a hug, more sure than he's ever been when he says, “This time, it's true.”

[edelgarfield]

the soft tender way essek talks abt caleb like.

campaign 2 episode 90

when jester asks him about himself he takes a pause, seems to contemplate what to say, before shaking his head and answering:

There's a waver to his voice before he seems to harden and his facial expressions are very dismissive and a bit sarcastic.

The episode ends shortly after this, and at the start of the next one is when Essek comes over for dinner. So IMO this moment Essek is debating whether to open up to M9, initially brushes them off, then thinks about it & changes his mind.

episode 91 we have this exchange:

he doesn't elaborate. he's completely flat & unemotional. he changes the subject by asking to sit as soon as he can.

yasha asks abt him and he does the same thing

noteably there's a long pause after ashley's question, at which point sam & travis chime in where essek's eyes are literally darting around and he's clearly uncomfortable, and that's when caduceus interrupts.

deep breath, nervous chuckle, crosses his arms and looks down before answering

jester asks why he changed his mind

he's making eye contact during this part, casual, & expressing mild frustration but still calm

there's a pause between this line & the next where he looks down and does this:

at this part he doesn't make eye contact until halfway through and only maintains it for a few seconds as a time

deep breath, does this again:

then looks up and says as quickly as possible:

head bowed, speaks into his lap

another pause, a look of clear confusion on his face before shaking his head

after caleb gives him a dunamancy potion in repayment for his help:

same hands folded head bowed posture as before

the whole conversation, he DOES NOT offer up information without being asked directly, usually multiple times. he deflects by talking abt his position, and whenever he decides to be vulnerable or reference the actual reasons for his visit (his loneliness & feelings of kinship) he looks away & braces himself. imo any time he admits to his loneliness his posture reads "ashamed." particularly when jester asks if he lives alone; i don't see a reason for him to look down & hunch his shoulders if he didn't feel like he was admitting to some personal failure (either bc he lives alone, or bc it shouldn't bother him as much as it does). there's also, of course, his newfound guilt at having betrayed m9 and being unable to walk it back.

compare that with cr3; while in the smut shop he deflects BH's attempts to learn about him, but that night he not only answers their questions without resistance but actively offers up more information.

he tells them abt his connections to ludinus, he tells them he's partially responsible for the current state of the world despite having every reason not to, he tells them abt his friends & his partner. he admits to his past faults openly & with little hesitation. he breaks eye contact briefly when talking abt ludinus etc. but never for long, and never in the same way, shoulders hunched, head down, hiding behind his hands.

the only time he seems to experience anything resembling shame or embarrassment is when he gets flustered admitting to wanting to message his partner before he sleeps.

i didn't mean to go through every single part of cr2ep91 where m9 ask about essek's personal life, but i did bc it was fascinating. when essek spoke to m9, he very much does not want to talk abt himself. the few things he does share say that he's very solitary & the few relationships he mentions are not close. any time he feels pressed to admit his true feelings, he feels ashamed and struggles to do so.

i imagine to essek in cr2ep91, he couldn't even imagine having a partner that he'd want to speak abt the way he speaks abt caleb. the idea of a version of him who has a life he wants to talk abt and share is absurd. but in cr3, for all his faults & mistakes he's made, he does, he wants to talk abt his partner & friends & the things he's learned. he has a life he wants to share bc it brings him joy.

[casscainmainly]

I think the recent Cass and Jason discussion is very interesting bc like, Jason or even steph in her first appearance take these actions of righteous, murderous (or near murderous) justice bc of the fact that not only have they've been abused, but they're also able to recognise that fact, and feel that despite everything, they didn't deserve to suffer like that (Jason with his murder, Steph with her childhood abuse)

Whereas Cass struggles for most of her series to recognise that she was abused and struggles to properly resent her abuser on the grounds that she didn't deserve it. She resents David for being a killer and making her love him, for making her a killer, but rarely for the actual abuse that came with her training. She eventually recognises it right before the end of pre-52 in batgirl 2008, but not after a long time, and she still tries to save David at the very end after contemplating letting him die.

she does grows to resent Bruce after some time, and confronts him, showing that she's slowly gaining higher expectations for how she should be treated after developing relationships outside the batfamily (coincidentally with Steph, someone who can relate over having a shitty dad, along with her love interests like Kon and Tai)- though Bruce, despite his multitudes of bad parenting moments never truly abuses cass like david did, so there's nuance, and after her fight with bruce, she still has trouble fully reckoning with her abuse (still calls david shooting her 'a game' in front of tim- she knows its wrong but still doesn't act upset about the fact it happened to her).

She kind of sees all the training she went through as a necessary evil in order to have the skills to be a hero- which is somewhat true, but I think it also contributes to her being unable to see herself, even partially, as a victim for large portions of her narrative.

She can understand abuse as something that molds you into a killer, she can't understand being abused and then choosing to be a killer bc of the righteous fury you have at what happened. In Cass' mind her abuse is synonymous with killing. That's the worst thing Cain ever did to her and the reason she ran away. She can't understand someone like Jason choosing it as a way to cope/deal with abuse.

I don't think this is necessarily a ground breaking thought but I think abuse is an interesting lense to look at both Jason and Cass' stories- pre52, Jason's story is about continuing a cycle of abuse. Criminals hurt him, he hurts criminals, and anyone who gets in his way of hurting the criminals, bc even tho he pursues justice, he also pursues retribution, which is hard to do justly. Between that and the whole zombie/living ghost thing, it's downright gothic. Whereas Cass' story is about breaking out of a cycle of abuse- nobody dies bc she let one person die and will never let it happen again. It's just an interesting way to view their differences I think. Good Cass and Jason posts recently!

I LOVE THIS!! I absolutely think abuse informs the way Jay and Cass see the world (and Steph - Steph, in many ways, is the median point between Jason and Cass).

It's the fundamental question that drives Jason and Cass apart. For Cass, her question is: how can I be the victim if I'm the villain? And for Jason, the question is more: how can I be the villain if I'm the victim?

I love this line: "Cass struggles for most of her series to recognise that she was abused and struggles to properly resent her abuser on the grounds that she didn't deserve it." This is doubly complicated by the genuine love David Cain had for her - that panel of them watching the stars kills me every time. This is another key difference between Jason and Cass' abuse (taking Jason's abuse to be his death) - Jason had no love for the Joker, but Cass did love David Cain.

It's why it's so easy for Jason to want to kill the Joker, and so hard for Cass to even be angry at her father. And your point here - "In Cass' mind her abuse is synonymous with killing" - is absolutely on point, because Jason's conception of abuse is the helplessness of being murdered. They are both acting in ways to prevent what abuse means in their minds: as Batgirl, Cass will never have to kill again, and as Red Hood, Jason will never have to be helpless in the face of murderers again.

Any rebuke of their moral codes feels like a denial of the abuse they suffered. It's why Cass can't allow others to kill, and why Jason can't accept Bruce's reasoning for not killing the Joker. It's why these versions of them could never get along. Argh there's been such good Cass and Jason commentary recently, they drive me insane!!!

[electricbathsalt]

Things I want to talk about/touch upon/see people mention more but cannot compile individual coherent posts about:

1. The fact Pops’ daughter apparently had a “falling out” with Pops (over her marriage??) that caused her to completely abandon the yakuza and maybe also cut contact with Pops (the dude is suspicious guys)

2. The fact that in the Overhaul-LOV initial meeting, Chisaki had to have intentionally chosen not to kill Mr. Compress.

3. The idea that many of Chisaki’s thought processes at least partially stem from his time in AFO’s facility. And of course, Pops.

4. How much Chisaki seems to lack a proper reaction to any sort of pain (He was beat to a pulp by Mirio & Midoriya, exploded himself, & got his arms cut off and I’ve never heard him so much as yelp) while still complaining about how overhauling himself hurts?? Yet he doesn’t show it.

5. (Highway scene) How Chisaki only screamed once the realization he wouldn’t be able to ever wake up Pops sunk in (isn’t confirmed but. I’m convinced).

6. The fact that there’s absolutely no way Chisaki wasn’t negatively impacted by being raised in the Yakuza. It’s simply inherent.

7. The blatant disregard Pops had to have had for both Chisaki and Eri’s well-beings to have designated Chisaki as her caretaker.

8. The endless amounts of potential for Chisaki & Dabi/Touya dynamics post-war, platonic or otherwise. (Multiple fics with this premise in my WIPs, lol)

9. The fact Chisaki seems practically incapable of holding a grudge. Like, think about it; is there a character you can say Chisaki genuinely, wholeheartedly hates and wishes the worst upon. You know what—what IS his opinion on Shigaraki/the LOV these days??

10. Realizing that in the initial Overhaul-LOV meeting, Chisaki literally just tone-matched them. Look:

Mr Compress says all that, and then Chisaki later explains:

Which, once you break down what Mr Compress said/how he said it, and what Chisaki said/how he said it… blunt statement of facts. Mr Compress told Toga how faded out the Yakuza have become with no sugarcoating, and Chisaki took that and said. “Well. Yeah.” But then when Chisaki did the same thing (blunt but true & valid criticisms of the LOV/Shigaraki’s leading skills (bc let’s be real, he was an ass leader at the time in terms of actual planning and execution)), the LOV got pissed. He pointed out all the relevant flaws and mistakes in Shigaraki’s leadership and then said it’d be better if he was the leader because he actually has a plan, and they got pissed at the mere prospect of serving under somebody else. Do you realize how much the story would’ve been altered if the LOV didn’t decide to just start attacking Chisaki here?? 💀 Sorry I’m exceptionally passionate about this bc the fandom gaslit me for a while into believing Chisaki was the one starting shit here 😔 but then I read it (a long time after I'd watched it in the anime) and was like. "what. he didn't initiate literally any of this shit. and everything he's saying is true??"

There���s probably more I could add to this but it’s getting long enough lol.

[riddlemearose]

hello i have come to ask more about wild with magic he cant controll

i love that hc so much and it fits him so well! like no one taught him bc hyrule was mostly empty, and he wouldnt even know he had it himself because why would he! its genius!

Sure, I’m happy to info-dump lmao.

I know other people have already come up with the "Wild has magic" headcanon about botw before, but for me it honestly started as a series of jokes with a friend. Basically it made sense to me since all the other Champions’ abilities are either outwardly shown to be magic like with Mipha and Urbosa, or at least implied to be, as in the case of Daruk’s magic being hereditary, and Revali’s being something no other Rito has managed to achieve.

So we were both like “oh yeah, he’s got to have magic” *cue shitposts and memes*

There’s minor evidence to support its existence in botw; Teba says to Wild “it was as if time stopped with every arrow you let fly”, and Daruk’s Training Journal mentions that Link once told him that it feels like time slows down when he focuses. Some people take this to mean Wild has really good reflexes and others went with magic. I’m in the ‘Wild has magic’ camp bc someone did the math and worked out he’s like… almost moving at super-sonic speeds when he closes the distance to start a flurry rush.

The reason I say he can’t really control it is bc the only time he’s ever shown being able to do so is to enter and exit bullet time. That’s literally it. If you dodge at the right moment, even if you don’t want to flurry rush, it’ll still trigger and give you the opening to perform one (which ends after like 1-2 seconds of inaction). Wild also doesn’t have a magic meter like some other Links do; he uses his stamina. He’s literally brute-forcing his way through his magic (which, side note, Urbosa must’ve hated watching). And, to build off that last sentence, this means that Wild probably doesn’t have a lot of magic, but he does recover it incredibly fast – especially compared to the others who have to use potions. More on this last part in a moment.

It’s true that no one was there to teach him per se, but I think it’s a tad more complicated than that bc botw has an odd thing where it shows a lot of magic users (at least as far as I understand when compared to other games) but doesn't go into detail, which is fair given the Calamity. This means we don't really have a concept of how prevalent magic usage is in the grand scheme of things.

Looking at the series in a whole, for hylians/humans magic is largely limited to the Royal Family (specifically the women of the Royal Family), and they seem to mostly wield light and divine magic, very different from time magic. (The Ocarina of Time is there, but that’s an heirloom and not severely limited with its function based on whether its user has royal blood or not.)

And given how the Sheikah have been treated in botw's Hyrule's history, as they are the only other hylians aside from Flora and Wild who are shown using magic, I'm guessing it's not a skill you want to encourage, and innate magic users, even if they weren't Sheikah, were probably affected by the roll-on effect of the genocide for a very long time. This would create a long, deep-set history of missing knowledge that eventually affects the present.

If you ignore the potential loss of magic teaching, honestly I would assume it’s still hard to teach someone magic when you don’t share that particular type bc it probably requires knowledge that you don't have in regards to how it flows and can be controlled in order to be used. I do very genuinely believe Wild knew that he had magic before he died tho, bc I think Urbosa would’ve told him. It was the only time she ever heard him speak and the convo went something like Urbosa: you have magic. You just did magic. Link: nuh-uh Urbosa: FYM NUH-UH

This lack of training and general knowledge of how magic works is what I partially attribute to his weapons breaking as fast as they do. Attunement doesn’t actually exist obviously, but in fantasy worlds where it’s a part of the magic system, it’s a conscious step. It’s only seems to become an involuntary one when the person attuning the item has a lot of experience with the field that item is used in.

What I mean by that is Wild’s obviously never learnt actual theory (and it might be too late to fix the groundwork he's already laid), so he’s only ever been able to make his magic work in conjunction with the one thing he’s already being trained to do: weapon-fighting.

This is why he has flurry rushes, bullet time, and his fast recharge time. His magic manifests alongside his physical capabilities (so it will recover just as fast as his stamina does) and is attuned to flow through physical objects that simply aren't designed to withstand prolonged exposure to it (so his weapons, bows and shields will degrade and break faster).

I do believe his magic is something he has the ability to train (take the change to how bullet time uses stamina between botw and totk for example), and I personally like to write him getting a one-hit-swing second of slowed down time whenever he parries, but I think these ‘upgrades’ would honestly just come from fighting more and pushing himself in those situations, not from learning basic magic principles lmao.

And honestly, Wild’s magic is just really funny to me bc it has shenanigan potential that’s really only limited by your own creativity and his stamina wheel.

I say that because part of this magic headcanon actually grew from a post-totk headcanon where I whole-heartedly believe that Wild and Flora end up sharing the Sage of Time title, since there’s one extra Secret Stone floating around and they both specialise in different types of time magic. The joke w/ my friend has now become “well, if Wild can’t even willingly activate his magic unless highly specific circumstances are met, wtf is going to happen when it's amplified?"

Answer: he has literally no idea what he’s doing. He has accidentally slowed time on several pots/ladles/plates/etc that got knocked over, mistakenly frozen a yiga sword which yanked it straight out of the yiga’s hand – he meant to freeze the yiga whoops – and intentionally managed to slow time on one (1) bokoblin (and has not managed to replicate that result since). … he’s getting there. Maybe.

(Additional follow up lore can be found in this reblog. Also adding this to prevent future confusion at my accidental vagueness on this: yes Wild knows he has magic.)

[stardustizuku]

People fundamentally misunderstand Madoka and what Madoka is trying to say.

And as someone who’s only ever made think-pieces about madoka’s impact on the magical girl genre, and never about what it’s actually trying to say, I do feel partially responsible for that.

There’s this TikTok user - which honestly TikTok itself is the bane of all my existence bcs it boiled down everything wrong with Tumblr with half the attention span and a quarter of the critical thinking - that keeps trying to frame Sayaka (and the audience) as a dumbass, and that everyone else as inherently better person.

This creator does so by saying that

“Sayaka should never have wished for what she did, because that was a stupid wish”.

While the story itself tells you, in part, that that is true - it’s missing the GLARING CONCLUSION that the show itself is telling you otherwise.

Yes, Sayaka’s wish is what leads to her ultimate demise. Her wish is the source of all her problems. Yes, she never was meant to take this grandiose role of a savior and by doing so, doomed herself and her friends to a tragic end.

But uhm

1) NONE OF THIS IS SAYAKA’S OWN FAULT.

(I feel a bit insane for having to defend Sayaka, because I believe she works best when you acknowledge she’s a complex character who did dumb stuff, but is obviously a teenager trying to do something right. I NEVER BELIEVED people in 2025 would be trying to frame her the same way idiots did in 2011. God has TikTok fried people’s brain).

Kyubey is blatantly manipulating Sayaka, the viewer and the girls. He knows she’s a weak link, with a tendency to self sacrifice. So, he exploits her vulnerabilities to destroy her and get to Madoka.

If you see the entirety of Madoka, and somehow are still childish enough to leave the show thinking that Sayaka was stupid - you are not mature enough to be watching Madoka. What you are doing is victim-blaming.

This person portrays Sayaka as a privileged girl. Someone who had no need to enter the cycle of abuse that being a Magical Girl is. A cycle that targets lonely and disadvantaged girls, with no other options. But, because Sayaka HAD other options, this makes her the odd one out. The one that shouldn’t have been there.

They present Sayaka’s decision as a foolish one. One that had no reason to happen.

AND, while to a degree it is true, that’s to the whole picture.

(For one, the fact that she had other options, doesn’t mean that getting manipulated into the wrong one is any less tragic. It shows that ANYONE can be manipulated into signing away your destiny, if you for a fraction of a second look away. She had a bright future but because one person (Kyubey) led her astray, she wound up dead in less than a month. The same it can happen with anyone you know).

But also, yes, Sayaka made a dumb decision. But she made that dumb decision because she was manipulated into it.

Kyubey was hiding a shit-ton of information. He never properly explained that being a Magical Girl means constantly fighting Grief itself and the possibility of one day becoming a Witch. He never explained the fact that it could mean dying on the job. He never explained they’re all walking corpses with no soul. He never guides them into choosing a proper wish, or what that wish will entail. The only ones who try to inform Sayaka are other Magical Girls, who made a desperate wish and now feel remorse or regret. Girls trapped in the exact same cycle of abuse. Unsure if they made the right decision or not, and unable to properly tell Sayaka if she should or not. Because they have to gaslight themselves into a truth that might-not-be to avoid going mad with regret.

Mami tries to dissuade them, but she’s so lonely and searches for admiration and connection so much - that she inadvertently makes it sound really cool and something they would want. She “tries” to warn Madoka against it, but folds extremely quickly.

She’s nowhere the paragon of Magical Girls that this creator has painted her as. Quite the opposite. Had she won against Charlotte, she would have successfully recounted Madoka and Sayaka - convincing two girls who had no need to enter this hell to do so.

AND IN THE END - she did convince Sayaka. Enough for her to become one a few days after her death. Thinking that she could fill the void she left.

It’s very apparent that the “dumb decision” she made, was one IN HINDSIGHT.

People in the middle of the manipulation, cannot be considered dumb. They’re simply working on the limited information they have on the situation.

If you come away from the show, believing that Sayaka was the one was dumb for making that wish, and NOT KYUBEY IS A BASTARD FOR DESTROYING GIRLS LIVES…you have a problem.

AND NUMBER TWO, and more importantly, THE SHOW DOES NOT AGREE WITH THAT SENTIMENT.

While Sayaka made a decision to trade her life for a guy’s hand - she never regrets it. Not in her sound mind, at least. When her life is falling apart, when she’s infected with grief, and slowly realizes what her life will be like for the rest of the time, yes. She thinks she did something extremely stupid. But I believe, when pushed to our darkest hours, we might even see the things that bring us the most joy - as something that brought only misery.

(As an immigrant, my achievements back home feel extremely useless and stupid and like a dumb waste of time. But that’s not true. In that similar way, things we are extremely proud of, may make us feel ashamed and resentful when we hit our lowest points)

But when Madoka rewrites the universe, she lets Sayaka keep her wish. She lets Sayaka become a Magical Girl, and Sayaka (in her sound mind) is GRATEFUL for that.

Because here’s the thing - this creator seems to be under the assumption that Sayaka deep down wanted something in return. That she was attempting to be selfless, while wanting something, therefore she’s still selfish.

The idea that, if you’re hungry and I give you my last cookie, if I actually wanted it, that makes my decision to give it, a stupid one. Because you wanted that cookie, why would you give it away? You should have eaten it! It makes no sense!

When, as Madoka itself says, you wanted the other person not to be hungry. And you shouldn’t be punished just because you still wanted that cookie. The fact that you wanted to help, is enough. And the fact that you wanted it, doesn’t make you a terrible person!

In fact, even if you don’t have the strength, it’s commendable that you attempted to do something. There is no weakness in kindness.

By Rebellion, once the ability to become a witch has been stripped from Sayaka’s fate, it becomes quite clear that the paragon of magical girls is NOT MAMI. It’s Sayaka. She’s the one who wants to be a Magical Girl to save other people, with very little personal interest aside from Kiyoko. She’s the one that is paralleled as the rival to Homura (A stand in for selfish love). If Homura is the Devil, Sayaka is the knight tasked with saving Madoka. Sayaka is the one that gets rewarded the most, because she sacrificed the most, for her ideals.

That’s actually a core theme that Madoka has.

Madoka gets this EXTREMELY bad rep, in regards to its themes. Because edgelords on the internet seem to believe it’s “a dark and grim take on magical girls”, when its in fact - a normal ass take in the Magical girl genre. Plenty of MG animes are dark and mature, Madoka is actually on the tamer side, and Madoka itself has a positive and hopeful take on both fate and hope. It argues that you CAN change the world by having empathy and being kind, that you CAN save everyone and that you CAN be helpful, if you want to. None of your actions are useless or nor do they lose meaning.

You’re not supposed to be selfish to survive. You can be selfless, you can attempt to save people, even if you don’t have the full strength.

So, this entire person’s take on Madoka, that comes from this cynic and cruel angle of “yeah duh, Sayaka was dumb and Mami was smart for not being selfless” is not only boring but stupid.

It adds nothing to the conversation, aside maybe fodder for someone to ACTUALLY engage with the material. It’s banal and quite frankly, boring. I’ve had more entertainment out of a Danny Motta commentary.