#I had the belief if she stayed with me; she'd stay the same.

[loveregrown]

I think about my middle school crush sometimes. Gabriella Jazmin... I truly adored her. Did she know, how much I loved her? Does she miss me? I never had a chance; it was doomed from the start. But goodness did my guts churn, back then. She probably didn't even know what she did to me—maybe she did.

[shinxeysartgallery]

J is kind of an asshole and I think we all realize that especially after what she did in Episode 8. Still think she's being hated on a bit too hard though.

She knowingly sided with Cyn, despite knowing what she was responsible for, and that's obviously not a good thing. However, do keep in mind that all of the affected Elliot Manor drones are just traumatized children at the end of the day. Cyn put all of them through immeasurable horrors. Even without Cyn's influence, the drones were treated horribly by the humans (other than Tessa). And based off the scratched-off armbands that we saw N, V, and J have that also match Cyn's armband, there's strong implications that all three of them are also "zombie drones" much like Cyn is herself. We don't know what they were subjected to before being tossed into the dump and later being found by Tessa.

As J and V are fighting, J makes an interesting comment that sheds some light on her motivations. "...It tricked me, too." Obviously, that was never elaborated on, but it strongly implies that she had made some sort of a deal with Cyn for an unknown reason. We got confirmation that V also had made a deal with Cyn, which was basically that she'd do whatever Cyn wanted as long as she wouldn't hurt N (and then would leave them both alone). Don't know if N also made a deal, but he's likely there as a part of V's deal.

So it makes me wonder, what exactly did Cyn promise J? Did she tell her that she could bring back Tessa? Promise to not let her die again? Something else entirely? Based on her comment to V, SOMETHING was definitely promised that ended up being a lie. Everyone reacts to trauma differently. Saw a post a while back (will hyperlink it later if I can find it again) by another user doing a very good breakdown of how they perceived the drones' personalities changed as a result of their trauma. N became a doormat because he kept getting hurt or hurting others every time he stood up for himself or someone else. (They also add that V's coldness towards him contributed to it and made him lose a lot of self-confidence.) V became rather cold because she was basically forced to turn off her emotions to cope with what she was doing. And she was purposefully mean to N to chase him away as an attempt to protect him from Cyn. J became a corporate bootlicker because she was terrified of being discarded again, so now she feels like she has to prove that she's useful.

And I think those theories all definitely hold some water here and help to explain why J still chose to side with Cyn, even after realizing that whatever their deal was was a lie. It's likely that she realized that if she decided to side against Cyn, Cyn would've just killed her straight-up. And that's really not out of the question, considering what she did to N and V once she realized that those two had asked too many questions and realized that she was the bad guy they wanted nothing to do with. If J had also gone against her, she'd just be replaced with either a clone that had its memories wiped (as evident by Cyn's comment to N in Episode 7: "your clones will forgive me") or a personality shift, or just flat-out a completely different drone altogether. There's also her comment towards V during their fight. "I promise it's better on the winning team.", which implies that J had full belief that Uzi wouldn't have been able to stop Cyn and Cyn was going to get her way no matter what. That paired up with the personality shift might imply that she felt trapped. Cyn preyed on her vulnerability and fears of being discarded and weaponized them against her. She believed that Cyn was going to win no matter what, and if she went against Cyn, she was going to be discarded again. Despite knowing she was tricked, she probably stays loyal to Cyn because she's terrified of that outcome. She doesn't want to die, she doesn't want to be thrown away again. But the only person she feels she can get that security from is the same one that basically caused all of her problems. That same person is practically the equivalent of a god in the universe and seemingly NOTHING can stop it. What choice does she have in that perspective?

I still feel like she's an incredibly tragic character. Horribly mistreated by humans, forced to watch (or participate in) her best friend's death at the hands of the one she despises the most, sees the same bestie be horribly mutilated and disfigured, be forced to commit horrible atrocities herself, and be manipulated and lied to. She deserves a redemption arc.

You're obviously allowed to still hate/dislike her, but that's just my thoughts on it!

[teaffrogy]

Anxiety [Astarion]

SUM. Anxiety and stress have been eating at you. Till you broke.

Fem Reader(You/Tav) X Astarion (takes place in Act 3)

A/N: I am not feeling well mentally, and I just want comfort, so I am giving myself some sort of comfort. I am struggling with anxiety and depression. I am seeing a therapist, but my life is making me want to quit.

Tw(?): Talks a lot about Anxiety and stress

You haven't slept.

It's been two days since you haven't been able to sleep properly. You'd stir in your bedroll or just look outside of the flaps of your tent. What was keeping you awake? Anxiety.

Anxiety of going Back Home, getting this weird tadpole out of you, having to find find the two neteratones who two powerful people have, help Karlach with her engine and worry about what happens next for her, and so so but so much more from everyone else in the camp. Your stomach was killing you. You'd even throw up at random because of the stupid fucking Anxiety that was eating at you. Every encounter leads to new situations that cause even more anxiety.

And some of your companions Have noticed you not leaving your tent for two days. One is because you fall asleep and wake up super Late, the other is because you don't want to go out. You haven't been leaving because you don't want to encounter more situations And the current ones, you are avoiding everything, everyone. And it makes you feel even more worse about yourself than ever because of how much you've been avoiding it.

Astarion would come in to Ask if you are alright but you just said yes. He even asks you to go on a night walk with him since he saw you not sleep at night. But you kindly refused saying he needs to rest too. He would say you two could simply stay. in your tent and he Can just read. But you said no. Shadowheart would come to your tent to ask if you are alright, you'd say you're fine, just tired, but she knew something was wrong and it was bugging her. Gale too, he'd ask or even bring you your favorite meal he made but you wouldn't even touch it. If you did eat You'd just end up throwing it up.

“Do you think she is pregnant?” Karlach asks. “You think so? She's been throwing up.” Shadowheart says. “She is not pregnant!” Gale yells. “And how would you know?” Astarion asks, and Gale says nothing. “Well, I don't think it's because of her being pregnant, I think she'd know if she is. Plus, she seems down.” Wyll says as he looks at your tent, which you haven't left again. Halsin looks at your tent and sees you turn on a candle. You move around, and half your body is out of the tent, but go back inside and turn the candle off. Halsin sighs and looks at everyone. “She is avoiding something or someone.” He says.

Someone? But who?

And they started to point fingers at who. First, it was Astarion(of course) they had thought that their relationship had ended which caused you to lock yourself Away, but it hasn't, it is a good relationship. Then it was Gale. Maybe she was scared he'd blow up! But it was false. You two had talked privately about this. Then it was Wyll. Maybe she was scared of Misora? But no, you had told him you wanted to fight her. Then Karlach, again, burns and blows up. But again, you had ressured Her that you trusted her. Then Shadowheart, her beliefs in Shar maybe were too much for you. Again, you told her as well that it didn't matter to you at all. Halsin…there wasn't really anything wrong. No one had nothing to say about him.

So what was it?

Laezel? But she said that you two were good, that for them to assume something like that was idiotic.

And They gave up. It was either because you hated someone and they didn't know why or you were pregnant. Which are two bad options, but what else?

You couldn't sleep again.

Everyone was in their tents, asleep. You were culled up into a ball as you thought of everything that simply kept coming, and your stomach was killing you again. You wanted to throw up, but at the same time, you didn't. You didn't want to throw up what you had eaten. Gale had made your favorite food. It would be sad if you just threw it up.

And the thoughts are quiet now. They just stopped. You breathed carefully and heard footsteps. It's Astarion. He probably came back from a haunt. You smiled at the thought of him, but the thoughts came back.

What would he think of me now? Does He think I'm disgusting? God, what if he just wants to end things? Does he love me? What am I doing wrong?

It was getting hard to breathe. Your eyes would move from one place to another in seconds and you sat up. Your vision starts to blur as you try to look around. You try to speak but you just make a weird sound like a cry. You cover your mouth and just cry. You hugged the pillow again and covered your face in it as you cried. You could Feel your pillow Start to get soaked as your tears would hit it.

And the flaps to your tent Open. You look up and see Astarion. “Darling?” He calls. You were a mess. Your whole tent was really. He looks at you, hugging your pillow as you try to muffle up the sobs and cries. He sits next to you, not really knowing what to do. He was never really comforted before. Only by you after Cazedor Died. He was crying, shaking and you simply pulled him into a hug and let Him cry it all out until he stopped.

He pulls the pillow away from your face and you sob, avoiding looking at him. He lifts your chin Up and you look into his eyes, his gorgeous red eyes. They reminded you of garnets. Those eyes that shined after he had drinken from you. But today, they looked hurt, worried.

He gently kisses your forehead and then pulls you into a hug. You stood there, frozen for at least 5 seconds before your eyes started to water again, and you wrapped your arms around him. And you just cried. You just cried as you hugged Him, and that's when you spilled it all. “I am so tired!” You say and bury your face on his chest. Your crying starts to calm down. “I have so much to do. I- I just-” You sniffed and sighed. “I am tired. I haven't slept for 2 days, and I have such bad anxiety.” You say as you stopped hugging, but he still is holding on to you. You fidget with the end of the button to his shirt. “Wyll, we have To help him rescue his dad, Karlach, we need to find Dammon so he can see if he can fix her engine, Shadowheart, She has these people after her because she betrayed Shar and now we need to also find her parents, Gale, We Find a book and now he wants the crown of the Elder brain, Laezel well… she is cool.” You smiled, and Astarion chuckles at the end. But he notices everything that is put on you.

Everyone expects you to do something or help them with something. Make huge decisions For them as well. Since the very beginning. “You don't think I'm cool?” He asks and you nod. “You aren't. You are amazing.” You say and he hugs you tighter. “I'm sorry.” you say.

“Don't Apologize Darling.” He says as he pulls from the hug to look at you. “You may feel like you are doing this all by yourself. But you aren't.” He says as he brushes your hair behind your ear. “I'm here. And also I suppose everyone else here as well.” He says and you nod. You felt like crying again but your head hurt. “Also I heard you all talking and what the hell is up with you all thinking I am pregnant?”

“I never thought you were! You know I am not good with kids. I am not risking it to burst myself instead yo-”

“Shush!” You cover his mouth and he grins. “You are sometimes too loud.” You say and he nods. And you two are quiet. You don't know if you would sleep tonight or Would even leave your tent. You were still anxious as to what was coming. But, at least you know you aren't alone now.

“I know you won't sleep tonight, Darling. Would I interest you in a bath? And after a lovely love session?” He says as he holds your hand and brings it to his lips, placing a kiss. He then gets close to you and kisses you. You smile in the kiss. After a couple of minutes of kissing, you pull away and look at him. You nod. "I'd love that.” You say as you hold on to his hand.

“I love you Astarion.” It felt weird saying it. You two don't say it often, but it has a lot of meaning for you two after everything you two have gone through.

“I love you too Darling.”

[greenqueenhightower]

Alicent's Catharsis, Rebirth, and Baptism in 2x07–Religious Parallels: (Long Post Warning)

"You will be hated by all people on account of my name." (Matthew 10:22) "All my life I've endeavored to serve both my house and the realm, and somehow none of it matters. We are cast aside. Or hated."

In this scene, the sight of her own blood, as Orwyle tends to her wound, brings forth Alicent's realization: all she's ever done was in service to others at the cost of herself, the size of which doesn't seem to matter. Alicent's words contain the belief that her fate was preordained. With the vision of her childhood and married life fresh in her mind, Alicent has many reasons to believe her children and herself were destined to face the hatred of the world. Christ warned his followers of the same fate. Interestingly, Alicent doesn't simply say "my family," but "my house and the realm." Her psyche is torn apart by two opposing forces, her fealty to her Hightower heritage and her role as a wife and mother to Targaryen kings. No matter how much she tried, she hasn't been able to reconcile the two, and her devotion to both has meant disloyalty to herself.

"So I call you to witness this very day that I am clean from the blood of all men." (Acts 20:26) "Nothing is clean here."

Otherwise venerated in the body of Christ, Alicent's sacrifice of the red, hot blood she spilled and the scar that would be "easily hidden" have lost all their purity. That filthy room, that gown, that place, suck all life out of her dry. Alicent sought a witness to her life, one who would acknowledge her sacrifices. A voice to say they were proud of her and all she'd done. The fact that she must once again live in the shadows and hide herself and her wounds, makes the spilled blood feel cheap and Alicent herself feel dirty, body and soul.

"So they came to a spot named Gethsemane." (Mark 14:32) "To the Kingswood, I think."

Alicent asks Ser Rickard to be her sole witness as she seeks to reclaim herself. Her desire to flee to the Kingswood, a place with religious and prophetic significance where some have sought the white stag for guidance and self-confirmation, mirrors Christ's flight to Gethsemane, a place he felt closer to his Father in prayer, in the final moments before his execution. Just like Christ did with his disciples, Alicent takes Ser Rickard along to keep watch while she finds solitude in the Kingswood.

"I saw heaven opened, and look! a white horse. And the one seated on it is called Faithful and True." (Revelation 19:11) "I have to believe, that in the end, honor and decency will prevail."

Alicent challenges the Arthurian stereotypes of chivalry by becoming her own knight on a white horse. Paralleling Christ again, Alicent yearns to become Faithful and True to herself. She has spent her life devotedly faithful to her father's commandments, the principles of the Seven, and the expectations of a Queen. For years she has held fast to the belief that this devotion to honor and decency would be her saving grace. Now, all she had faith in crumbles. Seated on a white horse, grabbing her life by the reins, Alicent must become her own Savior.

"I still have many more things to say to you, but you are not able to bear them now." (John 16:12) "I'm not yet certain I do."

Alicent's mission forms as her first day of withdrawal into the serene landscape around her comes to an end. Her composure and calm demeanor denote that she has found some peace and tranquility in the time she spent with herself and her thoughts. Her mind is made up for something momentous, which she does not yet reveal to Ser Rickard. She knows that he wouldn't understand if she were to tell him. Christ knew he would be equally berated and misunderstood. And neither would her children now be able to bear all her words and actions, so she decides to stay away.

"In grassy pastures he makes me lie down; he leads me to well-watered resting places." (Psalm 23:2) "In all of King's Landing is there no one to take my side?"

On her second day of rediscovery, completely stripped away from delusions, Alicent appreciates the openness of the field before her. Having escaped the prisons of King's Landing and the Red Keep, Alicent embraces her loneliness. As a mysterious, almost divine force pulls her closer to the water, Alicent roams the woods alone again. But for perhaps the first time, Alicent is surrounded solely by trees and flowers. There are no walls, no corsets, no retinue, no handmaidens, no definitions, no boundaries, and no expectations because she wished it. There's just herself, stripped of anything confining, the vast expanse of water before her, and the limitless sky above. She looks so much like the sigil of her mother's house: House Florent. With her red hair and blue dress against the green forest, Alicent is a little Florent fox in the woods. Is she calling her mother's spirit to take her side?

"Purify me from my sin with hyssop, so that I will be clean; wash me so that I will be whiter than snow." (Psalm 51:7) "The gods punish us. They punish me."

Alicent's journey to the water indicates her reclaiming of freedom and agency. Her catharsis is to come, neither by receiving absolution from another person, nor by having faith in the Seven, but by her own hands. She alone can cleanse and baptize herself, and thus bound to a new duty to herself, offer herself a new start.

"They were baptized by [John] in the Jordan River, openly confessing their sins." (Mark 1:5) "I have sinned."

Alicent removes the last articles of definition before she immerses herself in the water. She now stands moments away from her new disillusioned self, rethinking her purpose in life and her own self worth. Like Christ, Alicent wears white. She is leaving everything and everyone behind to be reborn as her own Savior and to wash away memories and mistakes of her past. She is ready to start building a new tower of faith in herself, to replace the one she violently lost.

"The holy spirit in bodily form like a dove came down upon him, and a voice came out of heaven: 'You are my Son, the beloved; I have approved you." (Luke 3:22) "You must do this."

As Alicent surrenders to a new birth, her desire for freedom and escape becomes clearer with the bird's appearance. Finally free, Alicent enjoys simple moments such as this immersion in the lake she gets to experience alone, for the first time. Once again embodying Christ, Alicent stares at the bird flying overhead in awe, as if it were the holy spirit coming down from the heavens to declare its approval. The bird becomes the witness to her new birth and a sign of confirmation and blessing on the course she has chosen to tread. Alicent has made up her mind about the next necessary step. Even if Viserys' words have proved to be fickle, it is indeed she who "must do this" and try to save her family and the realm any way she knows. Will she sacrifice herself (or save herself) for the sake of both?

"Present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, a sacred service with your power of reason." (Romans 12:1) "A true queen counts the cost to her people."

Alicent's power of reason compels her to not give up on her life but to readjust it to a much more secure course. As she yearns for freedom, Alicent mimics the bird's movements. How much she would like to fly away from everything, far from all this mess! And yet, her new resolve grounds her in a powerful way. By the end of her baptism ritual, Alicent has moved from the green backdrop to the lake's blue. Just as Christ regained memories of his pre-human existence, Alicent has claimed some lost fragments of her childhood and herself. This experience of retrospection, reclaiming of purpose, and newfound self-worth become a signpost for a new Alicent: the one who values herself more and adds the cost to herself in the tally.

[monicahar]

“one thing you want for christmas?”

in which you inquire about their wish for the long-awaited day.

—includes all my faves; kazuha, xiao, candace, cyno, scaramouche/wanderer, heizou, shenhe, hu tao, ayato, kaveh, yelan (bonus: alhaitham, ei, tighnari, nilou, yae miko, ganyu, keqing, ayaka, thoma)

—gender neutral reader, fluff, established relationships, rather sus with yelan's. p.s. let's just pretend all of teyvat celebrates xmas lol

“for you to stay by my side.”

# xiao has seen it all. from the monsters he had slain, to the cries of desperate mortals, to the quietude of his solitude, to the grief of the aftermath of it all, to the hushed whispers of his last bits of sanity, all leading up to the gentle sways of the breeze passing the inn, enveloping you both in a rather serene atmosphere as you stare at each other's gaze, yours one of anticipation for his answer, and his of silent contemplation. when honest words akin to a silent plea for you to never leave him leave his lips—his sharp eyes immediately soften at the reddening of your cheeks in response.

# kazuha is nothing but a humble man. he does not seek wealth, nor fame, nor anything trivial that concerns his title as the lone descendant of a noble clan, or as the inspiring individual who directly went against the narukami ogosho's blade of lighting. he only wants two things—peace and tranquillity. luckily for him, those abstracts are found in you, being the embodiment of his real home no matter where you travel. kazuha firmly believes that he belongs by your side, and he hopes that you think the same should you agree to take him up on his wish.

# candace was more than ready to answer your question, which pleasantly surprised you. with how firm she is with her beliefs of being a descendant of the renowned scarlet king with the protection of aaru village, you would've thought she'd wish for the safety of her fellow people or something...she agrees with this sentiment with a chuckle of her own. “you're right. but me ensuring the healthy being of my village is a given. i simply wished that you staying as my partner...would also be a given too.”

# cyno, the general mahamantra outright admits this within a beat of his heart. he's sure this wish of his would have drawbacks on your part—considering his frightening reputation, but he knows, and is certain that you're willing to take it on for his sake. he trusts you with his whole being that you were ready to commit yourself to him just as much as he is to you. his resilience doesn't waver a bit when you come off surprised by his sudden cheesy advance, it only strengthens his resolve to remain with you for the rest of his life...or in other words...“since it's christmas...[name], will you merry me?” (💀)

“you.”

# wanderer thinks this whole thing is silly. christmas is silly. merely wishing is silly. your question is silly. and his answer is also silly—but it held absolute truth, no matter how much he denied. it was rather stupid to ask for something that was already his, but he couldn't help it when the words erupted from his throat before he could even think about it. truthfully, there's nothing he wants in this world more than you. you are his heart. you are his human. you are his lover. you are his everything. he embarrassingly sputters for an insult when you suddenly laugh at his immediate response to your innocent question, your hearty giggles filling the silence of the room you've both resided in. something inside his chest flutters when you say 'likewise' so sweetly. he doesn't regret saying it that much now.

# shenhe was never this certain before. back then she'd always have doubts when it comes to making her own decisions, no matter how miniscule, or important it may be. is she supposed to be with humans? or with the adepti? this deer is looking at her quite weirdly, should she kill it? this person did terrible things unintentionally, should she hold them accountable? is she even in a position to decide such a thing? why are you making her feel weird things, should she confront you? all these random questions make up her past self, so now, in this present, can you be hers, faithfully and truthfully? forevermore, even? you have the power to grant this wish of hers, what will you do with it?

# kaveh is brutally honest when it comes to you. with how he's snuggling up to you like you're a sole lit torch within a raging blizzard upon uttering that one, three lettered word, now isn't an exception it seems. “i want you. only [name].” his voice is muffled onto your chest with a content sigh, resulting into a smile creeping up on your face at his display of affection. caressing his blonde locks, you mutter that you're already his, and remain that way forevermore. though the peaceful moment doesn't last long when you hear alhaitham on the other side of the house puking his insides out.

“a kiss, perhaps.”

# hu tao is a cheeky one. knowing her, she would very much rather die than passing up an opportunity to tease you. which is probably why she's now making kissy faces towards you in public, making loud bilabial clicks to further emphasize on her want for that kiss she requested of you. she's living for your blushing state right now. how cute you are! just makes her wanna pinch your cheeks and bite them! but right now, she has one goal. a raging conquest—to feel your lips against her own!

# ayato is also very cheeky when it comes to his dearest. that annoying knowing smirk of his plastered onto his face as you slowly process his response. he has no need for extravagant gifts when he has nearly every trinket or item at his fingertips as a wealthy noble clan head and his position as one of the tri-commissioners, so he'll use this to his advantage and pick up your lips in the process. he's been rather depraved of your attention lately with how busy he was with the preparation of christmas arriving in inazuma, but now that everything is set in motion, he wants to spend this small vacation with you and your lips in the meantime.

# yelan is incredibly flirtatious when she's alone with you. lingering touches that rile you up in silence, hushed whispers against your reddened ears, hot breaths mingling together from the close proximity she initiated...mhm, she's merciless. she'd have to hold herself back from full-on making out with you when you become shy from her intense gaze, averting your eyes as an attempt to calm your nerves. (she would ask for more than a kiss honestly, but we gotta keep it pg here so a long, long smooch it is.)

# heizou, yet another cheeky punk. you're really considering on giving his head a light hit for him to finally stop this little game of his. “ten kisses! that's all.” and after you're done pecking and littering his face with kisses, he'll just smile innocently and say “alright, ten more!” and he repeats it again, and again, and again, and again until you finally snap as you purposely bite his cheek under the pretense of giving another kiss. he just yelps and rubs the spot, pouting towards you afterwards as an attempt to charm you out of your irritated stance. “oh, come on, just another 10 more! it's the last, i promise!“ he then proceeds to say he'll return the kisses tenfold...whatever that means.

BONUS ! ! ! — “oh, how about a [insert random object]?”

# alhaitham would ask for some random nerdy book that he hadn't enough time in his schedule to buy. boooo no romance at all🙄

# ei would ask for dango. or a kiss. it's sweet either way, she says.

# tighnari would ask you to shut up. honestly, i have no idea. I wanted to put him in the “stay by my side” but he's too snarky for such cheesy stuff so maybeeee he'd ask for a type of essential oil for his tail or sumn.

# nilou would ask for a dance with you—under the moonlight amidst lotus flowers and flowing waters, right when the clock strikes twelve and christmas day warmly welcomes you both.

# yae miko had the potential to go into the kiss section, but she would definitely take advantage of this question of yours to make you do even more silly things. she can get your kisses anytime and anywhere anyways.

# ganyu would ask for a date! she got some time off granted by the qixing themselves, and she wants to spend it eating qingxins with you. (bear the bitterness, will you?)

# keqing would ask for a morax plushie. she didn't indulge you in her secret of being a huge fangirl for nothing. 😾

# thoma is the type of guy to let you decide your gift for him instead. not too expensive though! he dislikes you spending too much money for him. he'd gift you a knitted scarf as well. :') such a lovely man.

# ayaka would not ask for a gift. she would gift you instead with a fan that matches hers!

@muchendrafts i have included your beloved ei, thoma and ayato. enjoy your gift, along with many other readers! i also have an ayato oneshot in the works, but i couldn't finish it in time so i hope you'll fare with this, for now atleast!

[orphicrose]

The Co-Host (Alastor x FemReader) VIII

< >

Summary: You are Alastors Co host in life, perhaps more. But are separated by a sudden death. When you are finally reunited in the under world, it is up to Alastor to figure out why you don’t remember him.

Warnings ! ! Mentions of Death and Bl00D

@cannibalcoyote @kahlan170 @sugxryratz @multifandom-superlover

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

Heart full of feelings that felt as if didn't belong to her. She felt like the shell of a person, not truly existing anymore. Having a constant out of body experience. 

While he, he grieved. Grieved a relationship that never had the chance to fully blossom. Grieved what could have been, grieved who he used to be or had the chance to be. Oh, what his mother must think of him now. He never even had a chance to think about what everyone still alive thought of him, his little secret having an audience to witness. Lose ends ruining his reputation as a beloved media presence, turning him into a notorious serial killer. He knew he belonged down here, he knew he deserved everything that came his way. But the question still begged, why was she down here. Was it because she sold her soul to th devil? Or was it for a reason far to unruly to share to the light. 

His hands sweat as the journal stay to close grip between his fingers. Never leaving his side. There was far more to read in a safer environment. His path was obstructed by a tall figure, appearing out of the thin air around him. 

"So we finally meet, Alastor" Satans demeanor cold, as usual, and his stance meaning one of business. Hands tucked neatly into his trouser pockets. 

"Satan, I assume?" Alastors smile gleamed in the light of the pentagram. Baring his sharp teeth like a predator. "How do i deserve this honor?"

Satan began to move towards the wendigo, towering over him. "As I'm sure you're aware, y/n works for me" He hummed, circling Alastor like he was going to attack at any second. "And you..." He paused to give out a deep laugh "Well, you are disrupting my line of production. You see, millions of sinners on Earth call my name daily. Wanting to make a deal. And the more souls I have, the more power I have. But y/n is the only one i trust far enough to have the duty of collecting said souls. and you" He leapt forward, holding Alastor's chin upwards with the tip of his cane. "You meddeling with her is distracting . You're costing me money, radio demon"

Eye contact was held strongly between the two, not wanting to fault to show weakness. "You want the closure of knowing your little pet isn't the saint you want to believe?" Alastor wanted to say no so badly, wanted to stay ignorant. Wanted to hold onto the belief that there was still hope for y/n to not be the same at him. He didn't want to be the Clyde to her Bonnie, he wanted to be the story she'd tell to friends in heaven. To her mother, or her father. 

"She's just like you" His voice taunted, leaning closer into his ear. The words he oh so desperately never wanted to hear. 

Y/n strolled through the lit up streets of hell, admiring the buildings towering over her. Something she had never really done before. Casual sinners in the streets cowering at the sight of her, leaving her a free path to walk in as they fled. Slamming doors behind them. What a skill to have, but how lonely it made her feel. 

She arrived at the doors of her place of work. At first, hesitating to open the doors. Afraid of what might wait on the other side this time. But when she did open them, she found nothing. Silence and isolation filled the chambers of the rooms. It was eerie. Usually tensions built with high stress levels as soon as she walked in, demons bouncing off each other as they run from room to room. But the haunting recent history of this workplace made it seemingly abandoned. Of course, they wouldn't get away with holiday for long, for as long as Satan breathed. But for now, she would revel in the periodic silence of the structure. 

Her office, the only untouched room in the building, brought her some comfort. Nothing having changed. Just as soon as she started to loosen up, her door flung open. The tall red demon appearing in front of her eyes. The same fear she felt the first time they encountered returning, sinking into her chair as he moved through the doorway and shut it behind him. "What do you want?" Her eyes showing a slowly boiling rage building up inside her. Seemingly, he was experiencing the same feeling. 

He took a seat opposite her, hands sat on the desk. "I want answers, miss l/n" She stood from her seat abruptly, moving backwards. His eyes turned from frustration to a saddened look. Confused as to her shift in temperament towards him. Had he missed something?

"When were you going to tell me we knew each other?" Her question caught him of guard, looking up to her and waiting for more. She relived the memory, him covered in blood. "What is this?" She slammed down the leaflet on the desk. Alastor let out a loud sigh, he must have forgotten to put it away yesterday. She spoke loudly, halfway to shouting at him. Tears welling and dropping slowly to the floor in a rhythmic pattern. 

"Are you the reason I'm down here? Did you murder me?"

"No!" His tone enraged by the accusation, rising to his feet to share her eyeline. "I think you'll find you're the reason I'm here, y/n"

She stood in silence, tears picking up there pace as they dampen her cheeks and collar. 

"When you left, I struggled. I lost myself along with you. I turned into someone I regret heavily" Alastor's voice cracked, dropping any radio sound effect he may have had. Struggling to maintain an effortless smile. "But it seems you weren't so much of a saint either"

"What? What do you mean?"

"You still don't remember?" 

The two stared at each other. Not truly understanding the wants or intentions of the other. 

"I- Only a small fragment. I remember coming back to Earth to see you. That's how i got this" She calmed herself down, seeing that miscommunication between the two would make the situation worse. "We were close?"

"Very"

"And I did something to hurt you?"

"You died, y/n" Alastor rubbed his temple, suppressing any tears that dared to gloss his eyes. "I don't care, as to why you're here. We both did terrible things. Things that you may or may not ever remember. But..." A deep breath was taken to help steady his shaky words. "But for you to go to the lengths to forget everything, it must mean I was never held as dear to you as you were to me"

Alastor knelt to pick up the microphone left astray on the floor, brushing off his tie when he came back to his feet. Then turning to leave. 

"I made myself forget because it hurt" She shouted, desperately wanting him to stay. "The pain of losing everything was to hard to deal with. I'm down here because of my own actions, that's on me. But I never excepted anyone I care about to follow me here"

She moved closer to him, needing more answers. Or some sort of closure. "What if i remembered everything? Then what? We continue where we left off?"

"No!" He turned "If you remembered me, and then realized what I am, you wouldn't even want to look at me" His face solemn. "I'd rather you only remembered one version of me, not both"

"So what do you want from me?"

He looked down to his feet. "Closure"

[icallhimjoey]

I desperately miss Mark and Poppy and the gang. Can we visit them sometime? (I love you)

i agree, our babies mark and poppy deserve a little outing, don't they? Wordcount: 3.4K

---

Girls' Night

(read To Have And To Scold here)

Mark sighed and snickered softly.

"Come look at this."

And when Joe stepped closer and peeked around the doorway, Joe sighed too.

They looked at each other, and whilst Mark let his head fall back as he groaned, Joe couldn't help but laugh as he dropped his head forward.

"Why did I even assume this wouldn't be–" Mark stopped to laugh, trying his best to stay somewhat quiet. Failing miserably, however.

"And to think we'd be scolded for coming back too early," Joe checked his watch. "It's only just gone 11."

They stood in the hallway, looking into the living room where you and Poppy had fallen asleep, slumped over each other on the sofa. You were still wearing two gold eye masks underneath your eyes, and Poppy had her hair curled around a long foam roller that Mark always made fun of because it looked so silly.

Girls' night.

You'd kicked the boys out for a girls' night on the sofa.

Hot drinks, lots of chocolately snacks, and early 2000 romcoms. Girl talk, and nail varnish, and face masks.

Joe and Mark could go and... do whatever. Go for dinner, go to the pub, go see a film together, you didn't care. As long as they fucked off and let you take over Poppy and Mark's living room for the evening.

Poppy had prepared chocolate fondue, and you'd brought all ingredients for hot apple cider.

Spiked hot apple cider.

You'd also brought Baileys. And chocolate buttons, because, why not, you know?

You knew Poppy would have her comments at the ready since she'd grown up with Joe moaning an embarrassed, "Mu-hum," when his mother would point out the same thing yet again after Joe'd handed over his new school pictures.

But you liked chocolate buttons, so you had decided to get some to bring anyway. Poppy could make every comment she wanted.

Joe had watched you carefully pack everything into a plastic shopping bag and raised an eyebrow as glass bottles clanked together.

"You can come next time," you said flatly without glancing over. You knew what face he was making.

"Yea? You promise?"

"No." you replied quickly, followed by, "Have your own girls' night." which made Joe laugh silently.

There was something about his best friend and his girlfriend hanging out without him involved that he couldn't help being suspicious of, no matter how much he loved it.

It was an important and meaningful thing to you. Joe could tell you really made an effort, which made his heart soar in a way, but it was also weird, and it really took some getting used to.

He didn't fully trust Poppy and you, the two of you together, without any supervision.

He didn't trust it in the way he trusted you and Mark - somehow that felt fine. Because that had been fine.

You and Poppy hanging out so much without him there was just... new.

Maybe it wasn't weird.

Just new.

Joe just... he just really wanted to also be there.

He wanted to be able to make eye-contact with you when Poppy said something outrageous, and he wanted to squeeze your leg under the table when Poppy would say something about him that made you laugh.

Joe knew the two of you were going to be talking about him.

Joe was the biggest thing you had in common. Besides Mark, of course.

"All right, then make me another promise. Promise you won't talk about me–"

"Joe," you warned.

"Okaybutthen... at least promise to tell me all the shit Poppy's gonna spew about me after. Please."

Your jaw dropped despite the smile that was clawing its way out of you, pulling at the corners of your mouth.

"Are you joking?"

Offended.

You were offended beyond belief.

"Do you really think that all Poppy and I talk about is you?"

The arrogance on this man.

"And Mark." Joe added dryly.

In the same tone of voice, you exclaimed, "Is you and Mark?"

"Well, do you... do you not?"

No, yes.

Yes you did.

Of course you did.

Joe didn't need to know that, though.

Besides, you and Poppy really did talk about other things a lot too. It's just that... conversation always tended to circle back to them.

There was just so much to talk about.

And it didn't really matter if they were there for it or not. You'd talk about Mark and Joe with or without them in the room.

You had never had a good enough girlfriend before, not like this anyway, not a friendship that you cherished like you cherished this one, and this shit was fun.

"I... I'm sorry, but I have to ask..." Poppy would sometimes start, and immediately, Mark would drop his shoulders in defeat. Knew where she was going before she'd even said anything.

It was always the same. Always like this now.

"Have you ever seen Mark cry?"

You took a minute, narrowed your eyes at Mark whilst you raked your brain for embarrassing moments of him.

You were about to say, no... you hadn't.

Had you?

Wait...

Your face went from deep thought, to confusion, to surprise, because, oh! Actually! Yes, you had!

"I have!"

"Our wedding doesn't count." Poppy interjected.

"Then I haven't!" you were quick, always reacted to Poppy so incredibly fast, like your brain didn't need to really process anything. Like you were already anticipating exactly what she was about to say, and it always took Joe and Mark by surprise. Made them laugh and shake their heads with big eyes at the stupid fast pace of the two of you.

Same person.

You and Poppy shared a brain.

And it was only getting worse.

"I am not–" Mark started, but Poppy was already rolling her eyes. "No, I am not heartless, I am not a heartless person. Tell her I'm not heartless." Mark pleaded.

And he wasn't a heartless person.

Quite the opposite, actually.

You just couldn't think of a time where you'd seen him cry actual tears beside that one time when you'd done your best man speech at their wedding. When you'd tried to hold back your own tears from the very first word, until half way through, the dam broke and he rushed over, held you close and cried along with you as you finished your speech in his arms.

"Mark's not heartless." you said warmly, and smiled at your friend.

"Thank you," Mark returned with a smile of his own.

However, it was more fun to side with Poppy on things when it came to Mark and Joe.

"But maybe you could level out with Joe a bit. He cries all the fucking time, it's honestly– it's a little concerning,"

"Hey!"

"You do!"

"He does." Poppy easily agreed.

Before, it was always you and Mark versus Poppy and Joe.

Then, shortly, it was you and Joe versus Poppy and Mark.

But now, and in your opinion, the most fun, it was you and Poppy versus Mark and Joe a lot.

More and more, hanging out with the four of you together became Mark and Joe sharing knowing glances. Making eye-contact after rolling their eyes, knowing they were in it with two girls who knew too much. Who had now gotten closer and closer and were sharing things they didn't use to share before.

And it kind of was their own fault, too.

You would spend an evening together, you under Joe's arm, pressed into one side of the sofa with Poppy and Mark on the other end with their legs tangled together, and it would just go back and forth the whole time.

Poppy poking fun at Joe, giving you the giggles.

You making jabs at Mark until Poppy was red in the face and crying with laughter.

It heated Joe's up on the inside of his chest that it had gone from awkward distant stares across a room, dodging eye-contact all night for fear of you knowing he always knew exactly where you were, to this.

He got to sit in Poppy and Mark's house and have your feet press into the sofa right next to him, all close, with your knees over his lap. He got to sling an arm around your shoulders and got to find your hand to play with whilst the other casually rested on your thigh.

All laid-back and relaxed.

Like, this was normal now.

His girlfriend.

You could all just hang out, and Joe could be affectionate towards you.

In front of Mark.

In front of Poppy.

He thought he'd never see the day. He thought he'd never even get close to seeing the day. Yet, here you were.

And you and Poppy were friends now.

Good friends.

Better friends.

Sometimes Mark would walk into his house, phone in hand, trying to reach you and getting your voicemail instead, only to hear your voice coming from Poppy's phone from the other room.

And sometimes Joe would text Poppy, "bob bob ricard tomorrow?" and Poppy would text back, "ive got plans then" only for her to show up on his doorstep, because the plans turned out to be cooking dinner with you.

"You invited Poppy into my house for dinner?" Joe would ask, one eyebrow raised.

"You've got a larger kitchen." you would simply answer, and would kiss him on the cheek in passing.

And, yea, he did have a larger kitchen, and he got his cheek kissed in front of Poppy, so what was the point in arguing?

Mark's best friend was becoming better friends with his wife than he was.

And Joe's best friend was becoming better friends with his girlfriend than he was.

And they both fucking loved it.

Pretended they didn't, of course.

Pretended this turn of events was absolutely awful.

But it would fill something inside their chests with thick warm sugary syrup.

Made them sort of lovesick for the two of you more.

Made Joe drunk on that feeling. The same feeling that he remembered overtaking him wholly the first time he got to hold your hand in public.

Mark and Joe were the luckiest guys in London, and didn't they fucking know it.

Having Poppy and you band together against them was lovely, and joyful, and fun.

It was fun to tut, and to sigh, and to go, "Enough now!" when you wanted to tell Poppy about that one time Mark tried to ask out a girl with a bogie hanging from his nose that you didn't catch in time.

It was fun to have Mark tell Joe, "Shut her up, shut her– No! Quick, make her stop!", and for Joe to use the excuse to tickle your sides and make you squirm, your giggles turning into loud laughter that made the sun shine behind his eyes.

And sometimes Poppy would begin a story and Joe would know exactly where she was going, what she was going to say, and yet he wouldn't interject. He would just let her tell you the full thing and would wait for your reaction.

If you laughed a little too loudly, which to be fair, you kind of always did, he'd get to be all offended, get to pretend to be wounded, be all upset. Gasp your full name, first and last, and act all aghast.

And you never really liked the sound of your full name, but when it came from Joe's mouth like that, you didn't mind it so much.

So, actually, Joe didn't mind you and Poppy talking about him at all.

He just liked to be present for it.

He'd like to know all the things you knew. To gage how up to date you were on Joe Quinn lore.

"Believe it or not, Poppy and I are actual friends. We are Mark-and-Joe-excluded friends."

Oh, he knew. Understood.

And Mark knew and understood too.

"Okay so, then promise me you won't talk about me. Or Mark." Joe shrugged, facial expression challenging.

"Fine." you shrugged too, mirrored Joe and acted like it was going to be easy.

When the two of you walked into Mark and Poppy's place, you announced it loudly.

"We are not allowed to talk about Joe and Mark all night."

And Poppy scoffed at full volume from inside the kitchen where she was heating up the chocolate au bain-marie. "Like we were gonna!"

You caught Mark and Joe look at each other and felt that same feeling Joe would feel inside his heart, except you were able to hide it better.

"That's what I said."

"Have fun you two." Mark looked at you as he said it, then leant in for a quick kiss goodbye from Poppy before heading out the door with Joe.

Joe did more than lean in for quick kiss goodbye. He made it seem like he'd just want a little peck, but when he had you close, he'd keep you there and would kiss you all gentle and slow until he could feel you get embarrassed.

"You never kiss me like that anymore," you heard Poppy say to Mark from behind you, and realising you had an audience blew heat straight up into your face, making Joe pull back.

"Who do you think is a better kisser?" Poppy then earnestly asked no one in particular and seemed to take a moment to herself to think it over. It made Mark roll his eyes at his wife, made Joe smile bashfully as he looked at his feet, and made you go, "Let's never find out."

Girls' night.

Joe and Mark had gone out to have a bite in a place Mark thought was far too nice for the two of them to go to without a real reason.

Having to not be in the house didn't feel celebratory enough.

But Joe insisted. Said he'd pay. What was not to celebrate?

You and Poppy were having a girls' night.

Plenty to celebrate in his eyes.

And Mark knew he was right, and so he went where Joe booked them a table, and followed him to another place he'd never been to for drinks after as well.

Mark took off his coat and left his shoes by the door before he stepped inside the living room to sort the pile of girl out.

Found Poppy's hands and took both of them in his, pulled lightly to untangle her from you, and went, "Shhh baby, shh," when she frowned and audibly groaned.

When removed enough, Mark slung one of her arms over his shoulder and bent to pick her up, one of his arms around her back, the other under her knees.

Poppy easily let herself be carried, ever the princess, and Joe stepped aside to let them pass.

"Taking this one up. I'll see you later mate, good luck with that one," Mark spoke softly, nodding his head back at you still doubled over on the sofa, fast asleep.

Oh, shit.

How was Joe going to get you home? He couldn't carry you all the way over to his flat, but somehow getting you into shoes and onto your feet for the walk seemed impossibly cruel.

Because look at you.

Joe stepped closer, couldn't help the expanding of his chest as everything inside it swelled, and carefully removed the eye masks from under your eyes. Weird, soft rubbery material, now dry and warmed by your skin.

Joe watched your face pull into a frown from up close.

"Hey," Joe whispered. "It's time to leave."

You opened one squinty eye, let a soft moan escape your throat as you noticed the warmth Poppy's limbs had provided you with was now gone.

"Joe," groggily left your throat as you used one arm to reach up for him. Tried to pull him down by his shirt.

Joe'd been here before.

Except he had hovered over his own bed then.

And you were very drunk and upset then.

Pulled him in for a nap then, just like you were trying to do now.

Impossible to resist.

But you weren't in Joe's bed now.

You were on Mark and Poppy's sofa.

Joe kind of had to resist.

When Joe didn't give in after a weak pull at whatever piece of shirt you managed to grab onto, you easily gave up and rolled over. Curled up more. Got more comfortable right where you were, and Joe softly went, "No, baby, come on, you've got to wake up..."

Mark had heard, and caught you turning over from the stairs.

"Should I throw down a T-shirt?" Mark hushed, stopping and bending just enough to make eye-contact with Joe from his spot whilst making sure not to topple over with Poppy in his arms.

Mark indirectly asked Joe if he was going to stay the night.

Joe turned to look at Mark, then turned back to look at you again and, fuck off, he was too far soft for this. Far too soft for you.

You could be outside on the cold wet hard ground somewhere and he'd join you right there, no questions asked, if you asked him to cuddle up.

How could he not?

Had you seen you?

Joe was the luckiest.

Mark, still with Poppy heavy in his arms, carefully shifted her not to lose balance and added, "Sofa's large enough for the two of you."

And Joe went, "Yea, thanks mate," and shook his coat from his shoulders.

He could spend the night.

It was only a moment later that you stirred awake once more because you were being moved. Someone was trying to get their hands around your waist to pick you up a little. Drag you down the sofa a bit.

"Just a little bit over, into the corner. More room there for me," Joe whispered close to your ear.

You moved with him, let yourself drop down where you fit together better, and settled on the colder spot of sofa, now with Joe warming your whole body from behind.

Joe hummed as he sighed, shuffling until comfortable, arms tight around your waist underneath the throw blanket.

One kiss to your cheek for a good night's sleep.

"Hope you had fun,"

"Hmmhm," you hummed in reply.

You did have fun.

A silence took over the room before suddenly, you made a little frustrated noise and Joe had to lift his head. Was about to ask what was wrong when you whispered,

"We talked about you the whole time," you confessed all defeatedly, voice soft and all croaky, eyes still closed.

The muscles in Joe's lower stomach tensed and tried hard to keep all the butterflies controlled.

"We talked about you the whole time too," Joe whispered back, and his lips found the side of your neck to kiss once, twice, three times.

Joe knew that you'd only have to ask him once, and he'd tell you everything he and Mark had talked about. Word for word if he had to.

And you would ask.

Tomorrow morning, over breakfast.

And you'd most likely pretend then that you had held up on your promise, and Poppy would most likely play along. Would press up her chin and raise her eyebrows and go, "No, we didn't mention you once last night," as she'd shake her head, and her lying would make your lying all easy, until Joe'd get you alone and you'd unintentionally let something slip and you'd be so fucking cute about it, Joe could hardly stand it.

Even just thinking about it made him feel all giddy inside.

It was times like these when it was still difficult to fall asleep next to you.

He'd feel like he'd want to be awake for this forever.

The feel of you.

The sound of you.

The smell, the touch, the taste.

Joe got to snuggle up to you, hold you close, and fall asleep like that on Poppy's sofa, inside Poppy's house, upon Mark's request.

Unbelievable.

You and Poppy were close friends now, and had talked about him all night.

Girls' night.

Joe was the luckiest guy in all of London and knew it. Felt it. Pressed another kiss into your neck and counted his lucky stars until his eyes grew tired.

The luckiest.

the end

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @chrissymjstan, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[littlest-w01f]

Fire and Ice

Eris x Khione

ERIS MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: In a hunger for power between the two opposite sides of the seasonal courts, a marriage was arranged between the heir of Autumn and the princess of Winter.

Cw: None

part one - part two

The evening had gone by way too slowly for Khione's liking, she'd danced with the second eldest, then talked in very slow droning conversations with the twins that followed, she was sure she was asleep by the time she was supposed to be in Lucien's arms. Seven brothers, seven brothers she put on a pretty fake smile, acting like she enjoying their not-so-innocent touches, and didn't understand their wild innuendos.

Kallias was laughing at her predicament, "Aren't you looking spectacular?" He noted the tired look in her eyes, a drink in his hand that he kept sipping from.

"Ugh," Khione rolled her eyes, "Atleast Eris wasn't boasting about the misogynistic things he's have me do." Khione shuddered remembering the talk she had with the middle son, the words he had been proud to say.

"That's what you're settling for?" Kallias snorted softly, "I guess he is the better option."

"Well, I should get this over with." Khione swallowed, walking to Lucien Vanserra, the male who stood beside the bar.

Lucien smirked watching her, "There you are." His voice was smooth, with two large shot glasses in his hand.

"It's my special concoction." With a playful wink, Lucien handed Khione one of the shot glasses, the liquid inside shimmering under the dim lights of the bar. He raised his own shot in a toast. "Here's to taking the plunge, darling." He said, his voice filled with mischief.

"Oh, thank the Mother." Khione took the offered glass, her fingers brushing against Lucien's as she did so. She gave him a small smile before bringing the glass to her lips, downing the contents in one swift motion. The burn of the liquor hit her throat, making her cough slightly but she didn't pull away. "You know..." She began, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, "This isn't exactly how I imagined tonight going..."

Feeling a sudden warmth spread through her body, Khione let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head at Lucien. "I think that might be the strongest thing I've ever had," she confessed, placing the empty shot glass on the counter.

"It's something I came up with decades ago," Lucien chuckled, watching Khione rub over her chest as the aftertaste hit, offering her some lime to drown the taste out.

She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with fake amusement, the same look she had given his brothers. She leaned closer, her shoulder brushing against his. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?" Khione teased, her soft features lighting up in the low light of the bar.

Lucien saw the look in Khione's eyes, "Please, my lady." He chuckled softly, "I'm a taken male, I'm not in the running for your hand."

A wave of surprise crossed Khione's face as Lucien revealed himself to be taken. "Oh, my apologies," she stammered, quickly pulling away, feeling a blush creep onto her cheeks. "I didn't realize..."

"No need to apologize," he reassured her, waving off her embarrassment. "In fact, it's quite refreshing. Most females throw themselves at me without a second thought. My father wanted me here since he doesn't consider me taken."

Khione looked surprised, "Really?" She tilted her head, "Why so? Beron seems like the male who wants his sons paired off as soon as possible."

Lucien snorted, "Please... We'll need more alcohol if we're to talk of my father as his... Backwards beliefs..."

"At least you're not as boring as the rest of your brother," Khione smiled softly, "Get me another one."

"It's improper for a lady like you to drink something so strong, you know." Lucien teased, laughing as she flipped him off.

After Khione mingled with Lucien, the party ended, marking her officially engaged to Eris Vanserra, the engagement part would follow a week after the night, and during that time Khione would stay in the Autumn Court.

She had said goodbye to her brother and mother, while her father just gave her a curt nod, getting back in their carriage, setting the way back to Winter Court.

"Well, that's done with, my fiance," She turned to look at Eris, the male leaning against the nearby garden arch, her things had already been handled and sent to the place that would be her room.

Khione smiled, walking to Eris, "Please lead me to my room so that I can get our of this dress." She said sweetly.

Eris chuckled softly as he pushed off from the archway, extending his hand out for hers. "As you wish, my lady." He murmured in response, leading her through the halls of the Autumn Court towards her temporary living quarters.

The castle was grandiose and sprawling, but Eris knew every nook and cranny, having grown up here. It made navigation easy despite the size, and they didn't take long to reach the section of the castle designated for guests.

He led her down a dimly lit hallway until they reached a door. The guard posted in the halls opened it for them, revealing a beautifully furnished bedroom complete with a large bed adorned with plush pillows and thick blankets. A fireplace was set into one wall, currently lit with a gentle fire, and the window looked out over the courtyard below. "This will be your room for the duration of your stay here,"

Khione looked at the place with wide eyes, squinting lightly at the fire, freezing it with a wave of her hand, earning a chuckle from Eris, "I see you'll settle in just fine." he commented.

"I'll have the decrease the temprature, but otherwise this place would do." Khione sighs, looking around the room, her presence itself making the temperature drop.

Eris smiled, still standing by the door, "After we're married, you'll not be staying here, but in with me, father will move us to a bigger room."

Khione nodded, she wasn't really surprised about him saying that, she expected nothing less, "Well then, till the wedding day." She smiled, moving to stand in front of the mirror, she looked over her shoulders to Eris, who was still standing there, waiting for her to ask him something, "Could you..." Khione breathed, frost exhaling, be nice, she thought, the male was already her husband, the wedding would be all for a show, "Could you help me untie the corset?"

"Of course," Eris responded almost instantly, stepping forward and approaching behind her. His hands came up and worked on the strings tying her corset together, pulling them free so that he could undo the laces in the back.

The warm air of the room hit her bare skin once it was exposed, the heat coming off of Eris making her shudder, her back turned frost like, almost in defence. Once the laces were loosened, the top of the dress started to fall apart, teasingly low on her breasts, leaving nothing of her upper body to the imagination, the jewellery that had been pinned into place stayed on.

Eris's fingers brushed along the small of her back as he worked the ties, sending tingles of electricity running down her spine each time he touched her. She had never noticed how sensual a task like this was before, especially when performed by a male, rather than how her handmaidens did.

Khione took a deep relaxing breath once the corset wasn't restricting her, making Eris laugh loudly, "I guess that thing was really tight on you, wasn't it?" He laughed again, watching her remove the rest of her dress, until she was only wearing her thin undergarments, the air around them turning even colder.

"You know, if you keep giving off such a cold aura, I might actually freeze in here," Eris said with a smile, shivering playfully, warming his body in the room with his own fire.

"That's the idea." Khione smirked, teasing, before moving to the bed, and lying down.

"Do wait till after the wedding, though, take my title and land with my frozen body, you won't get a thing to your name if I die as your fiance." Eris smiled, enjoying the sight of her in bed more than he let show, "For now I shall leave you to your beauty sleep." He smirked, teasing, "You need it."

Khione rolled her eyes, throwing the pillow under to to the back of his head, "Goodnight to you too!"

Eris caught the cold pillow, warming the pillow with his power and throwing it back at her, moving out when another came for his face. "Night, my icicle,"

{General Taglist - @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-smut @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith}

{Eris Taglist - @fxckmiup @slut4acotar @secret-third-thing @shadowsingers-mate @fieldofdaisiies}

[winn-schott-throughtheheart]

For the headcanons thing (that you posted 6 months ago - sorry)

Winn Schott

If you’ve already done him (which is highly likely) give me another character you haven’t done and please tag me in the Winn one :)

I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT THIS LMFAOOO thank you for reminding me that's so embarrassing

anyways, I'd had Winn and Lena requested but Kara is my second fav blorbo after Winn so I did her too <33

also, this is going off the premise that both Winn and Kara are autistic, it's canon because I said so I have lists you can fight me on this

Winn

Realistic: Winn is notably the only analyst (in the main cortex at least) that wears dress clothes instead of uniform. At the beginning he really did try to stand the uniform, but he ended up convincing J'onn to let him off because he just couldn't deal with the feeling of it on his skin.

Hilarious: Being the only human member of the Legion of Superheroes, Winn got asked A LOT about human culture. A blatant lie that originally stemmed from being asked the same ten questions a billion times, snowballed into a complicated lore about humanology and Gods and belief systems (because he was too embarrassed to admit to the original lie) and he ended up being the accidental cause of organised religion in the 31st century.

tldr: Winn Schott manages to shitpost his way through space and time

Also, he's asthmatic as fuck. He has to carry an inhaler in his bag and he hates it.

Awful: He hates the smell of teakwood and tobacco because it reminds him so viscerally of an abusive foster home that it genuinely makes him physically anxious and nauseous.

Unrealistic: He's actually really good at handling spicy food. He's even out-performed Alex a handful of times.

Lena

Realistic: Lena actually really hates chess. She hates how everything needs to be calculated properly, how everything needs to be thought out exactly, and it just reminds her too much of how she was brought up.

Hilarious: She has a peanut allergy. Similar to Winn, she has to carry an epi-pen in her bag. This is not public knowledge, of course, because that would probably bring her quarterly assassination attempts up to weekly.

Awful: Lena can only fall asleep with a nightlight- she isn't really sure why, all she knows is that her bed feels less like frigid, murky water when it's on.

Unrealistic: She doesn't know how to cook or how to drive. Her whole life she's had people cook for her and drive her places, so she never had to learn how to. She'd like to one day, though.

Kara

Realistic: Kara LOVES dinosaurs. She didn't have birds on Krypton, which implies either all the dinosaurs were wiped out, or there never were any in the first place, and she was immediately enthralled and fascinated by them when she first learned about them.

Hilarious: She's dyslexic. She relies on Grammarly like it's lifeblood.

Awful: She's insanely afraid of thunderstorms. It takes everything in her not to have a flashback or a panic attack or a meltdown, and she will point blank refuse to patrol if it's storming.

Unrealistic: After Red Daughter was killed, Kara's heat vision stayed permanently purple, and her eyes were purple too for a very long time afterwards.

maybe that first ones a bit of projection, i fucking love dinosaurs

[lewkwoodnco]

Now That We Don't Talk - Lockwood x Reader

A/N: very very brief suicidal mention, sooooo much writer's block hhhh (the seasonal depression is depressing), (angst but diluted if that makes sense) add/remove yourself from my taglist in the link beloooow ALSO

🎄Special Announcement! I'll be doing a twelve days of Christmas fic series (1 songfic fic a day leading up to Christmas) BUT I will also be accepting extra holiday-themed requests (if any)!🎄

(speaking of the holidays, thinking of switching to a santa-themed george icon soon hmmm), wc 3.1k

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 3.5 | Ch 4 | Ch 5

TAGLIST | MATERLIST

Moving had been a surprisingly smooth process that she remembered little of. She had to take care to not think too much about the ornaments she was packing or the boxes she was taping shut or the lonely town she was numbly driving towards, lest the rest of her catch up to the grief weighing her down. Her supervisor had looked plenty confused when she explained where she was transferring to, and muttered something about not knowing if there were any visitors there.

As steep as the change was from working in central London to a significantly sleepier town, she seemed to be adjusting fine. In fact, she was liking the peace and quiet. Or at least, she would, soon enough. She'd learn the right habits, like finding contentment in the stagnant void that descended on her windows far too quickly every evening, the same way she'd unlearn bad habits, like him. So no, her biggest problem was hardly the early sunsets here, but was actually what everyone wanted to talk to her about when she called. The one thing everyone - her old teammates, colleagues, friends - wanted to make sure she knew.

"The gala was fantastic this year - though not as fun without you, of course -"

"You'll never believe who showed up."

"He looked very sharp in his suit. He cleans up nice, I suppose - Anthony Lockwood, I mean."

"They've become quite the celebrities, that Lockwood & Co., though the other two don't seem to tolerate the cameras like he does."

"Oh, you should have seen it. Say what you will about Lockwood but does he know how to make an entrance!"

"Were you at the gala this year?"

She sighed for what must have been the fifth time that day. "No, Ted, I was not. You were at my farewell party, remember?"

"Tha' was for you?"

"Goodbye, Ted."

"Wait! You've seen the pictures, haven't you?"

"No, I haven't, because contrary to popular belief, I am not obsessed with evrything that goes on at Fittes."

"Well, we had a tiptop chocolate fountain this year. Didn't get clogged once and looked absolutely gorgeous. Anywho, I've recently stumbled upon this smashing business opportunity involving chocolate fountains - they're selling like hot cakes, I tell you! - and I'd love to spread the wealth."

"Theodore, you haven't joined another MLM, have you?"

"What is an MLM, other than an opportunity to invest in yourself?"

"Don't make me phone your mother."

The call ended rather abruptly after that. Only Lucy, as always, was an angel.

"I take it you've heard plenty about him?"

"Who? Oh, him. Yes, more than plenty."

"I thought you might. He has...quite the presence, so the papers wanted to interview him, and he agreed - "

" - obviously - "

"And I think they asked him about you at some point."

Her mouth dried. She struggled to find her voice, forcing it to stay casually disinterested. "Hm? What did he say?"

"Absolutely nothing. First and probably last time I've seen him stunned speechless. Naturally, it's all anyone can talk about."

"Mhm."

"He hasn't talked about you, if you're wondering. Sees it coming from a mile away every time George and I try to bring it up. It's so stupid; we know it, he knows it, and he's always in a foul mood. He keeps thinking, these days...Y/N?"

"I don't care."

"No one would blame you if you did."

"I don't."

"So how are you holding up?"

"Well, Luce, I felt happiness outside of external validation for the first time in...ever, then three months later I'm crying in my bathtub wishing I would die, and now I'm miles away from everyone I ever knew and it's always dark outside and I'm always miserable. I'm doing great."

She could hear the exhaustion in the crackling static of the telephone. It occurred to her that she wasn't much acting all that cheerful either.

"If it makes you feel any better, I think he half-expected to see you there."

She inhaled sharply and sat up in her armchair so fast she could feel a cramp curling in her neck. She didn't dare believe Lucy's words. "Really?" she wanted to breathe into the telephone, and revel in dormant delusions, if only for a moment. Instead, she gingerly sank back into the chair, continuing in a flat voice.

"Well, I don't care about any of that now. Oh, I'm sick of it. All of it. If I never hear his name again for as long as I live, it'll be still be too soon. How's George doing?"

After she hung up, she laid in her chair, watching the shadows from her shutters stretch and fold over her furniture as the sun set. She was thinking about the last party she had been to, a yacht party where some of Fittes' and Rotwell's biggest investors were in attendance. How Lockwood had managed to score an invite was beyond her, but what intrigued her more was the cab ride they shared back to Portland Row.

She had been half-dozing off when she felt a hand cover hers. As she blinked at him blearily, she noticed the rigid tension in his spine, as if poised and waiting for an attack. He was clutching her hand purposefully, as if holding off on warning her about something malevolent that was consuming him. She couldn't see his face, which began to feel no different from the cold, hard window pane it was peering out of.

She stirred, distantly unnerved by his impersonality. He glanced at her, apologetically retracting his hand with a sheepish smile. But that look of consternation remained on his face as he turned back to the window with a furrowed brow, with the air of waiting for something. He visibly relaxed as they approached Portland Row, but she couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling even by the time they reached the doorstep.

"You all right?" she was asking, while Lockwood fumbled with their keys.

"'Course. Why wouldn't I be?"

She didn't respond, and the two of them watched him wrench at the key in the lock, trying to steady his mildly trembling fingers.

"Key turns the other way."

He paused his efforts, and after a second or two turned the key the other way. The door slid open smoothly with a click. He held it open, but she just looked at him expectantly. He sighed.

"I'm fine, I promise. I just...get a little nervous around some parts of London."

"Which parts?"

"Some."

"Scared of what?"

"A few things."

"Why?"

"For fun. Look, I'm freezing out here. Can we just drop this?"

That was more than a mild exaggeration; the sun had only just set and the air was still pleasantly balmy. But he looked so beseechingly, and it didn't take much for her to relent when it came to Lockwood, so they stepped inside and shrugged their coats off in silence.

"I'll tell you some day. I'm sure I will."

That was some day too far away. Now she'll never know if, or why he ever felt like that. Or rather, she wouldn't know when he would feel like that. But it was no matter. It was none of her business then, and it was even less of her business now.

She had mostly forgotten about her conversation with Lucy by the following week, which was why her parcel came as a bit of a surprise, especially since she'd mentioned being swamped by a mountain of upcoming cases.

Y/N -

I was thinking about our call the other day. On a completely unrelated note, here's about every gossip rag from the past month I could find at Arif's.

Love, Lucy.

She was beginning to see what was so appealing about these magazines. As ruthless as they could be, they sure knew how to sell a pipe dream to common folk with less exciting lives. The gala was clearly as glitzy and glamorous as it was every year, and the articles held an air of intrigue now that she was quite separate from Fittes. But that quivering excitement became somewhat muffled as she flipped through the glossy pages.

The Anthony Lockwood she saw now looked worlds apart from the Lockwood she left behind. His well-fitting suit, megawatt smile and carefully styled hair made him look expensive in a way that destabilised her. She flipped through photograph after photograph of him looking jarringly luxurious besides walls of text effusing about the success of their latest case, and what an honour it must have been to be personally invited by Marissa Fittes herself. It weighed at the pit in her stomach to see this unfamiliar silhouette of a friend who was become increasingly unattainable, speeding along roads to prosperity faster than she could ever keep up with.

She sifted through the other rags. The most extensive feature was a few pages long, and was centered more on the exciting, up-and-coming agency that was Lockwood & Co. rather than a specific case. There were pictures from their most recent cases, and in each one he looked unnaturally distinct from the last, but in every single one he oozed an appealingly languid charisma. It was good to see him doing so well. She was happy for him. Or she would be, tomorrow, when she had the strength for it. Lockwood was unbearable in a way that made him perfect for a life in the public eye, a life for which she was somehow always deficient. She traced a too-long strand of hair flopped on his forehead in one of the photographs, as if she could magically straighten it out.

She could see him now, thumbing through the pages with an approving tilt to his head, limbs folded uncomfortably in the armchair he always insisted on sharing with her. "No such thing as bad press," he'd claim absent-mindedly, his too-long hair flopping impractically. And she'd watch him with bruised eyes like she always did, wishing for nothing more in that moment shared with him. In other words, wishing for nothing short of what she could never have.

Maybe it was some lingering wish to break herself before he beat her to it. Because that was all it was; dodging blows, lying through pretty teeth, racing ahead to pull one over on him, cursing the feel of his breath on her. There was simply no calm, no respite, only the all-consuming experience of becoming wrapped up in him and losing bits and pieces of herself which would never again be truly hers.

She picked up the telephone again. It felt too heavy in her hand. Numbly, she spun the dial as if on autopilot, keying in her mother's phone number. The dial tone comforted her in some twisted yet cathartic acknowledgement of the emptiness inside of her.

Looking at it now she could see the distinct air of mystery that engulfed Lockwood and clouded her vision. He was never quite fully present; a part of him was always tucked away to be kept secret in some dark corner, and her mind was only too happy to extrapolate, to construct this most desirable yet entirely mythical figment. She felt ragged, winded and worn from battling reality day after day, all alone. And most of all, she felt so very stupid.

Her mother was saying that she had made the right decision. Not that she needed any reminding. Of course her life had taken an upward swing ever since; she'd be a fool to think otherwise. She was positively paralysed with liberty, bedridden with joy, simply immobile with ecstasy!

She was slowly but surely going very insane. Now making eyes at each other, now disconnect, now love, now heartache, now this, now that, but never any peace. Maybe it was some lingering wish to shatter and let the pent up misery dissipate.

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

Months passed. The holiday season arrived, and she choked through the November blues with shivering bones and clammy hands. Even with the slight uptick in visitors, as was expected in the colder months, her life provided little to distract her from her own ghosts under the floorboards. So when she received a consultancy request from Fittes one morning, she had written back and mailed her response all while still holding the jam knife.

The train was crowded and noisy with the bustle of the holidays, but as it chugged along through the fields of snow, she couldn't help but perk up ever so slightly at every sigh and creak of its wheels. There was a spring in her step all the way to Fittes headquarters, where she was supposed to collect her apartment key.

A tall, indistinct figure was walking out of the revolving doors as she approached. She flinched when she realised who it was - Lockwood, who didn't seem much happier to see her either. He looked mostly well, though the corners of his mouth were a little strained, his face flushed in the cold.

"...Y/N?"

"Lockwood."

"You're...home?"

"Yeah. Um, how have you been?"

"Good...good. Busy. As busy as winter gets."

He was wearing a different coat. It was quite similar to his old one, but this one was thicker and more structured, and looked like it was at least somewhat effective in keeping the brisk winter wind out. He looked foreign and unfamiliar in a way he hadn't since...since the Investors Party.

It had taken her a while to pick his face out of the pretentious crowd, given how preoccupied she was with weaving through the thicket of people. It had taken her a eyes minute to adjust to the almost nauseatingly charismatic silhouette of an especially-chuffed Lockwood in a newly tailored but otherwise identical suit. She tried to give him a reproaching look, but there was something infectious in his smooth ease as he larked about in his prime which made her lips twitch despite herself as he waded through the crowds.

"You really shouldn't be here."

"You're clearly not drunk enough yet."

"How did you even get in? This is invitation-only."

"Had an invite, didn't I?"

She pursed her lips, shaking her head slightly. He was hopelessly incorrigible in an oddly fascinating way. Her voice dropped to a murmur as she felt herself begin to relent.

"I ought to...tell someone about you."

"That you're secretly in love with me?"

"That we have an illegal stowaway."

"You're not going to rat me out, are you?"

The pleading look on his face was enough to give her pause. She was already beginning to regret her decision, but he looked so vivacious it was difficult to stay disapproving for long.

"Excellent. Now, would you be so good as to point me in the direction of the bigger spenders?"

They spend the next few hours laughing and entertaining the many important men on the boat and their great deal of important thoughts. She'd excuse herself towards the end of every conversation to leave Lockwood and the glimmer in his eye to close a deal. For someone so adept at climbing the corporate ladder, she was surprisingly poor at fulfilling these adjacent duties.

She hated every second of it, and she drank as much as she could without raising eyebrows to make it all halfway palatable, but it was all worth it then. He had wanted to stay for as long as it would have been polite, so when they finally left, long after the media had made their rounds at the event, his jacket was folded over his left arm and his hand was delicately holding hers.

When she was stuck in her drafty cottage on the edge of nowhere, she'd think about the feel of his fingers curling around her palm more than it was appropriate, and wonder how she ever thought she was somehow better off here.

But that evening's sense of camraderie was long gone. Now, she regarded him coolly, holding him at arm's length. They may have had a rough falling out, but that didn't mean they couldn't still be friends. Just friends. Nothing more. But the vaguely intimate look in Lockwood's eye told her he was in no mood to entertain any kind of platonic notions.

"I didn't know you were back."

She relented. It was the season of giving, after all.

"Only for a while. Fittes hired me as a consultant for a few months."

He blinked at her. "You could have called."

"I didn't think you'd be interested."

"Of course I'd be interested. I'm always interested when it comes to you."

She sighed sharply. It was so easy to get swept up and believe him when he said things like that, that she wondered how she found the strength to leave. He was a bastard, a ne'er-do-well who only knew how to break her heart after promising sweet, simple luxuries in whispers over expanses of skin. She made her lips tremble, her pulse quicken, her heart shake in all the worst ways.

But underneath all that, love was there. Love was there...still.

"Ready to go?"

They turned in unison towards a strikingly beautiful girl with glossy raven curls walking out of the revolving doors. The girl's smile only slipped a fraction as she shook her hand, and she was distantly aware of making some kind of clumsy introduction. They stuttered through some stunted small talk, during which all she was aware of was the blood roaring in her ears that gave the whole scene a distantly muffled feel. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Well, this was...lovely. Shall we go, then?"

The girl turned to leave, but some semblance of hesitation prevented her from pulling Lockwood along with her.. His face still had that same confused look.

"You could have called," he repeated tonelessly, like a broken record. The girl's presence made the back of her neck smart and prickle uncomfortably.

"I might, later."

"Bye. Nice meeting you."

"Nice meeting you too."

"We're home all day."

The last one was from Lockwood.

"Just...if you want to drop by. So that Luce and George don't have my head on a platter by supper."

"Goodbye, Lockwood."

He was captivating in a way that made her want to keep him all to herself. No one needed to intrude on this tantalising secret they shared. It was at that moment that she made the very unfortunate realisation that she didn't need to say it out loud to make what she had been screaming from the rooftops of her heart any more real - him and her would forever be unfinished business.

And nothing she could do could make the palpitations of her heart any less real either.

As the life she once dreamed of walked away from her, all she was acutely aware of was that it was a lingering wish, some half-thought dream, to sit opposite him in a chilly kitchen on blustery mornings, watching him drink his tea while she got drunk on him.

TAGLIST: @novelizt @avdiobliss @dangelnleif @mischivana @mitskiswift99 @houseoftwistedspirits

[cursedfortune]

❛ worship me. until i tell you to stop. ❜ - sending this from Ogata just because I really want to see how she responds LOL

darker vibes. @muddsludge

...Oh?

Her gaze dragged away from the fire until it landed upon him nearby her. She new Ogata liked to play little games just to see what others would do, to try and see where they fell within his beliefs. She knew a cat when she saw one and he had no hesitation to paw at her with his claws out just enough to keep her guessing. Truth be told, he was one of the few humans that managed to stay unpredictable.

She had been hospitable, cared for nothing in return. A thing that could appear as a kindness he of all should know was no such thing. This generosity was given to amuse herself with a man that possessed such fucked up energy. His potential made so much sense and none at all whenever she looked his way.

"Very well." The witch answered his calling as she seemed to do most other times. As unusual as this one was it appeared she was willing all the same - for one reason or another. A curious shine to her gaze, as if silently assessing how he may wish to be worshipped before she settled on just giving him all the ways that mattered.

Shifting towards the soldier, Mortem pinched at her dress to keep it from getting caught beneath her legs as she shifted onto her knees. Hands warmed by the fire slid along his shoulders to ensure her balance as she drew closer until their bodies were mere millimeters apart. Being allowed so close just gave her the time to really look at him, memorizing his features and that stare that hardly ever seemed moved by much.

Fingers trailed over his collarbone and ghosted over the sides of his neck into hair he often kept so perfectly placed. The witch loomed over him from her kneeling position, cradled his skull as though to cage him in her embrace... which wasn't wrong, seeing as a moment later her fingers gripped his hair enough to be more unpleasant than anything else. Not that she expected him to react like a the average human.

"Earn it, wretch." Mortem mused with the same expression she had before; a vague smile with an even vaguer gaze - welcoming, friendly even, which could be considered unfitting given her tone. Something akin to displeasure easy to detect amidst the mirth. His audacity she could appreciate... to a point. "You don't deserve my worship. You barely deserve my gaze." To utter such a thing to her... a witch.

Just like that her hands were off him as she shifted back into her prior position before the fireplace. "I'm no mother looking to quench a child's thirst for attention." Mortem waved her hand to brush him off as she pulled the blanket over herself and laid down - facing away to express her lack of interest in progressing this line of conversation. She had played along to a point, humored his request just enough to find her own amusement in it before casting it aside. Maybe if things were different she'd feel more inclined but as it stood now, he only deserved to be mocked for boldness.

[narrativelysignificantturtleduck]

Also a very minor throwaway part of that post but it annoys me so much that line “not sexist like the water tribe” like I cannot Stand when ppl act like the FN is actually superior in that regard bc they allow women on the frontlines of their imperial death machine … (tho ig it could fit w like. what you were talking about like how western countries like to brag about how they���re so much more progressive when they’re not- like ig the FN could try and spin things that way? but ugh)

(sorry, you don’t have to answer this i just got annoyed lol)

no i thought about this too because even if you see allowing women in the military as the pinnacle of equality, if you actually look there aren't many (if any at all) female soldiers when the gaang runs into fire nation troops in the earth kingdom, you mostly only see them in the fire nation domestic forces and as prison guards at boiling rock and iroh's prison. and they're wearing skimpy midriff-baring uniforms. the artbook even says that women make up a majority of the domestic forces. wow, there's absolutely no sexism in having women only in the domestic forces in special revealing uniforms. it totally means there's gender equality.

also everything about how azula and her girl squad conduct themselves speaks to how women learn to navigate sexist systems. all the other firebending threats are these brash, aggressive men (zhao, ozai, zuko), but azula schemes and plots and takes down ba sing se not with brute force, but by infiltrating in makeup and dresses, by taking advantage of people underestimating her. they really do stage a coup with the power of their gossip giggles! the pressure mai was under to be quiet and compliant, ty lee's cultivated cute and ditzy persona hiding how she can fuck you up, and azula's ability to scheme, all reflect how women in sexist societies are treated and cope with that treatment.

furthermore, i think water tribe sexism might be kind of overstated because we don't get much southern water tribe development. yes, sokka was sexist, the men of the tribe left to go to war and the women stayed behind, but in hama's flashbacks waterbenders of all genders are seen fighting the fire nation raids. kanna fled the north for the south - surely she wouldn't do that if she knew she'd be faced with exactly the same treatment. katara is totally surprised to find out that women aren't trained in combat waterbending. my guess is that while there were roles, they weren't nearly as rigid. sokka, having put all his eggs into the basket of "be the male warrior and protector while the men are gone" is perhaps taking this to a greater extreme than the average water tribe member, and he unlearns it pretty quick - almost as if it wasn't THAT entrenched, and it was more about his personal worldview than his cultural beliefs.

the main change i would make to atla is adding another episode between "the waterbending master" and "the siege of the north" where we get -

a) some insight into why the two water tribes have grown so different. i think likely the war had an impact on gender roles in both nations, with the north retreating from the world and becoming stagnant and traditionalist while the south had to have everyone fight out of necessity. maybe some flashbacks to life in the southern water tribe, a kanna appearance maybe.

b) an improved pakku storyline, where he's more sympathetic and interesting. if we're going to have him be katara's waterbending master and a member of the white lotus, he needs to be less of a jerk for no reason

c) aang learning healing from yagoda. we need to establish that the problem is gender roles, not that healing is an inferior form. maybe we see other men joining him in yagoda's class and women joining pakku's class, as he and katara learn from both of them. when they see pakku at ba sing se in the finale, he tells them that yagoda is at the white lotus camp too.

(and this scene happens offscreen)

d) some cute scenes of sokka & yue bonding

i think another water tribe centric episode would do a lot to make fandom less weird about things like this. it wouldn't entirely fix the problem - the problem is that we live in a racist society - but it would at least give us more canon evidence to refute it.

[spade-riddles]

Hey Spade, I don't know how much you know about fake PR stunts, but I know you've been on the Kaylor block for a really long time. Beards in the context that Taylor has them make more sense to me. Taylor was a sweet musical ingenue who needed to stay closeted, so she got a steady stream of boyfriends she'd just have to kiss in public a handful of times, take pictures with, etc. That sort of contract makes sense to me--a few years of sightings with the fake bf and then a breakup and everyone forgets about it. But in Karlie's case, there is a fake marriage AND children involved. This sounds like a really extreme contract. How did Karlie end up with such an extreme contract? (Although I do understand that children would necessarily get involved in Karlie's beardship if she's carrying them while she's still "married.")

There are celebrities who have done long term lavender marriages over the years. In Karlie's case, she did not actually marry him, nor did she have kids with him. But she used the public cover of being his pretend wife to have kids and grow her true family on her desired timeline.

The kids part is complicated, and not everyone shares the same opinions. I personally believe that we have never (or rarely) seen Karlie's actual children. One likely scenario is that Jerk had kids via a surrogate and that they timed it with Karlie's pregnancy. And, it is his kids that we see. Another scenario is that these are someone else's kids that she shows with.

My beliefs center on two things: 1) Karlie did an interview before she had her first child and she said she would keep her child private. She has done the opposite with 'Levi'. 2) Taylor would never loan her children out to the criminal Kushner family.

As for Karlie's contract, she has certainly renewed it over the years. There is no way that all of this was planned out when she was 19 years old. As to why she kept renewing with such an awful family ... only she knows. If I ever had the chance to talk to her, that is the #1 question I would want to ask her.

[dangaer]

           it's stifling, the idea that she chooses to place her faith in a soul already forgotten by those who no longer wish to think of him with as anything beyond his usefulness to them and a thought he knows better than to indulge in without warrant. whether she chooses to follow such belief's after the next outburst, reaction, is another expectation entirely ━━ he's familiar with the fickleness of human emotions, how love and hate blend between themselves far too easily to be considered anything beyond a threads-width away from one another ━━ but sometimes even he caves into the caress of a what if, moments in which even he would look at the garden beyond the soul he is destined to try and taint and now, as he is coming to understand, is now leading towards such a point. not in a way he would have ever expected, though, he realises the moment his body freezes at the sensation of her arms wrapped around his waist with an uncertainty on whether he should continue to stay or go. something indescribable flickering upon her face, a clear sort of certainty lining her tone as she refers to the permanence of her death in turn, the warmth of her body threatening to smother the chill against his chest and he should have known better than to lead them down this path, taken a course far more safer than the fates from god's or witches ━━ but he didn't, isn't, curiosity lurking as if never having disappeared at all and it's enough to have him opening his mouth ━━ if only to close it again, unresponsive, as he shifts to rest his forehead in the curve of her shoulder, long pause taken in favour of wrapping one arm in a mirror of her own. his other gentle, reluctant, as it runs through spools of blonde hair.

❛  i won't change, no matter what happens. ❜ kou admits, softly, closing in on the silence that's been left to swallow them whole for the past few moments as he curls the strands against his index finger, his thumb rubs against them, briefly, before he guides it back around her shoulder, allows his head to turn enough to catch the spools against the morning sunrise; she deserves something like this, he considers, the type of lover who can take her out like this any time of day. the type of lover he would have been if they had met a hundred years ago, when they could have been considered more or less the same.

one second, two second, three ... despite it, he doesn't choose to let go.

❛  no matter what place you will inevitably have to depart to, i have no qualms in following you there. no matter what you come back as, i will love you the same as i do now. my love is eternal, and so is my support in what you choose to do. ❜ something of a nervous exhale escapes him at that, both an admittance and not. no matter what sort of exterior he's held, even his hardened exterior has felt like it was bleeding before alice. he feels better to be honest now, give her the choice he once believed he had; he isn't sure he can admit it outright, isn't sure she'd take it seriously if he let such spill from his lips without an aftermath. she hasn't pushed him away, at least, and he takes it as a sign she can take he's somewhat serious, if not anything else / he hasn't made her want to run away, at least, not in the way he has certainly managed to throughout the months.

another inhale, exhale ...

❛  this may break my heart one day, but it doesn't matter ... i am not going anywhere. if you're choosing to stay after that, then i want you to know you can use me. ❜ like his old friends, his old family, his master ... whatever she does will be far more kinder than the choices they bring, even if that is far from such a point. ❛  even if they come down directly to separate us, there is no way i will give up on you so easily again. ❜ the hand on her waist merely squeezes tighter, as if afraid to feel her slip through at speaking these words. ❛  i will vow my eternal love to you, no matter what cost it may bring to me in tow. ❜ until the very last second, until even his bones turn to rot.

kou lifts his head from it's temporary perch, mismatched eyes glancing directly back towards her own. hand unperturbed as he brings those strands to his lips, a delicate sort of kiss swallowing the once glittering light behind him. ❛  make me your chip, alice-chan. otherwise there'll be nothing holding me back from blowing away my own to add you to such a collection. ❜ to keep that warmth, his sunshine, back in his garden forever. / @redemptioninterlude cont'd!

[mdhwrites]

I think the main reason why people see Amity and Hunter as more Sasha esque than Boscha may also lie in the screentime distribution. Boscha's not that prominent and only had like two episodes where she was relevant after season 1 and wasn't exactly that important in the overarching arcs the same way Amity and Hunter are on TOH or Sasha on Amphibia. Plus Boscha barely even had time for a redemption aside from some slight hidden depths in For the Future, but there still isn't much on Boscha's redemption due to how close it is to the end so it does make it harder to compare her to Sasha.

Oh, I 100% get this. Me going 'Boscha is TOH's Sasha' is not me trying to say people are idiots. I might have problems with how fandoms analyze things (and trust me this isn't just a TOH thing. I lived on the living room couch of a Trekie and Star Wars fan for two years while the sequel trilogy and Discovery come out. Online criticism fucking sucks.) but this isn't one of those cases. I have a unique perspective as a fan of Boscha so I'm far more likely to even think of her at all versus any other fan of the series, let alone in a positive light like in comparing her to Sasha. Then again, it's mostly a comparison through the fact that they do share vices as much as they could share virtues. I am weird like that though because my writing caused me to need to analyze the scraps we had.

I... pause on saying the lack of redemption makes her hard to compare. It makes it so less people will care because if you don't have a capital a Arc fandoms just kind of ignore you (and make sure it's capitalized or be ignored like S1 Anne) but I don't think it makes comparison harder. Not when Sasha's arc is not her personality or character. It affects her character but who she is stays consistent. Even post redemption, she's coming up with strategies and asserting force because Sasha is a forceful person. She is a leader and she cuts through bullshit, hence why Commander Anne has her obviously fighting against herself by trying to act like those aren't still a part of her character. It's actually part of what's great about the therapy angle for her because she is absolutely your therapist, NOT your friend and she will be the first to make that clear.

It's not like Boscha and Sasha have no similarities post Sasha's redemption after all. Sasha still gets pissed when people bring up things she's sensitive about and will absolutely throw down if you challenge her on her beliefs. She actually GAINS a similarity in being willing to listen to Anne versus just about anyone else, just like Boscha listens to Amity while nobody else. That's because it's STILL Sasha. Her redemption wasn't about her erasing who she was.

Her redemption, which is part of what is both good about her redemption and redemptions in general, is from a shift in perspective, not in character. She didn't suddenly become a good person. She always had the capacity for good. Her encouragement of Percy can even show that. She could uplift people even back then into being their best selves but it was purely for selfish reasons. Others didn't factor in beyond how they could serve her. Post True Colors though, that changed. She decided others mattered and so she started helping them as best she could. Zuko's shifting definition of honor is like this as well.

I'm kind of sad that in The Power of Love, my story where I wrote Boscha first, I never really finished her arc. Her shift in perspective was in not needing everyone to approve of her in some way anymore. To not have to fight everyone who insulted her or assert dominance over her surroundings. She found peace in just being herself. You actually had to give her a reason to kick your ass instead of doing it just because people fearing her still meant they respected her... But she'd still kick your ass if you did something that pissed her off. She still would call people names because she's kind of a bitch like that but there's less malice there, stuff that did genuinely start happening the story already as her arc progressed in stages. It also means though that her confidence is far more honest. She doesn't need your approval. She's awesome so you can go fuck yourself and if someone else is seen as awesome too? Good for them but it doesn't matter to her anymore so she doesn't need to do anything about them.

And I bring that up in part to show that you can go a lot of different ways with a redemption besides just making them a generically good person. That is not what redemption or growth should be unless that is genuinely who the person always was and then... Why are we redeeming someone who is apparently kind of boring? Their personality, their details, etc. like that should matter both to their villainy, their arc and who they are afterwards.

And well... I have kind of complained a LOT about TOH's arcs for being about character replacement rather than growth and so long as that stays true, just about no one in that show could ever even compare to Sasha. Not when post redemption, they barely have enough personality, let alone consistency, to reflect the complex teen. You have to look at the abandoned characters like Boscha instead for one that can accidentally even try to step to Amphibia's game.

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I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[uptoolateart]

Going through old post drafts before the next episode airs. This is a bunch of musings I had about Kagami, working on the assumption that she's a sentimonster.

First of all, after Perfection I really wondered when Kagami was made. If you know the answer based on spoilers, please don't tell me, because I'm watching in order.

But imagine if it was shortly before that fencing lesson in Riposte. It always struck me as strange that Adrien had never heard of her before. She was meant to be so renowned - and Tomoe has business connections with Gabriel.

And she wasn't introduced to Adrien in a normal way. She was sent into that lesson, masked, with a mission to compete with him. When she lost (or maybe didn't), she rang up Tomoe and told her she'd failed, indicating that there was a very specific purpose to that meeting.

I know Adrien viewed her Wikipedia page in that episode, but her mother / Gabriel could have easily set that up and invented a history for her. She could have literally been 'born yesterday'.

And now we move onto her name. I've pointed out a number of times that it's the Japanese word for 'mirror'. Previously I said she acts as a mirror for Adrien, as they have a lot in common and she often helps him reflect on himself.

But...her name has also been a glaring clue ever since her debut on the show, because she could be seen as a mirror for her mother. Tomoe is one of those parents who wants to live vicariously through her daughter. Taking God complexes to the extreme, she sort of made Kagami in her own image, forcing her to take up her interests and live up to her standards.

Kagami wanted to be an artist and Tomoe wouldn't allow it. That would be way too much self-expression. Any chance of asserting independent personality is thwarted. You know...like Gabriel does to Adrien. We all know Gabriel has a God complex.

What really got me about Perfection was the concept of nothingness Kagami expressed when akumatised. In a hint at her cultural background, she sort of became pure energy, formless. It was really Zen in concept.

For those who don't know, some key principles of Zen philosophy are:

Denial of the ego (Kagami achieves this through relinquishing her physical body)

Everything in the universe is interconnected (I think this was expressed through Kagami embodying the elements)

Attachment is a key source of suffering (Kagami renounced friendship, as it caused her too much pain)

Human perception is flawed (Kagami gained the power to no longer hear or see anyone, allowing her to filter out distractions and achieve greater objective clarity...or so she claimed)

Kagami ruminates that in her non-corporeal state she has given up all fear. She no longer worries about disappointing her mother or Marinette. 'Everything is so calm now. So peaceful. So...perfect.'

Perfection is a standard Kagami and Adrien are both held to. But perfection is also repeatedly linked with blankness. Staying in the context of Eastern beliefs, this blankness is a removal from the material world.

As someone who was originally raised with an Eastern religion, this whole scene struck a nerve in me. There are different ways you can interpret and apply such beliefs to your life. Some use them to enrich their family life. I mean, if you truly believe you are not your body, it stands to reason that you don't really 'own' your daughter. Therefore, you shouldn't control her, instead supporting her as a fellow soul in the journey through life. Ahem, Tomoe.

But I've seen so many people distort these ideas and use them as an excuse to run from their problems and disconnect from others. I've seen people use the 'we are not the body' thing as a reason to walk out on their kids. This is what we see with Kagami when she gives up friendship - potentially beautiful ideas twisted into unhealthy escapism, because Gabriel is in control, manipulating things.

At the same time, if Kagami is a sentimonster, this Zen moment has other implications. We can link it back to Adrien in Wishmaker, when he says his head goes blank every time he tries to think of what he wants - and when he finally realises his childhood dream was to be whatever his parents wanted him to be.

Working on the assumption that Adrien is also a sentimonster (and again, if you know the answer, please don't tell me, but...it just seems so obvious that he is one)...he and Kagami are both blank canvases for their parents to paint on. The second half of Perfection was chilling - because sentimonster theory aside, there are plenty of real parents who treat real children this way.

The good thing is that if you're a blank slate, you just need to take back the paintbrush and then you get to make whatever picture you want. Kagami and Adrien have the power to be whoever they want to be - just like we all do, no matter who tries to dictate who we are. Go on, Kagami - be the artist you want to be. Write a manga.

As an aside, if that ring Kagami wears holds her amok, it's interesting that she's allowed to wear it. Gabriel doesn't let Adrien wear his ring, because that would give Adrien too much self-control. In a strange way, Tomoe seems to have given her daughter a bit more personal freedom. And given her action against Gabriel at the end of Perfection, Tomoe also seems to care about her child more. I still don't think she's winning Mother of the Year, but...well, I guess when you're being compared to Gabriel, you'll always come out looking better.

As ever, I feel like there are a million other things I could add to this, but it's already long enough. Please no post-Perfection spoilers in the comments :)