#i promise I'm not attacking anyone I'm just frustrated at the idea of people not knowing the actual facts

[unstable-and-gay]

Listen.

Listen.

Listen.

I KNOW. That the "Miles throwing a bagle created the Spot" thing is mostly a joke because it's a fucking hilarious butterfly effect.

But

FOR FUCK'S SAKE.

Please tell me y'all know the bagel has nothing to do with the creation of the Spot.

PLEASE tell me y'all know he only mentioned the bagel to make Miles remember about him.

Because simply thinking that there's people out there that believe that Spot got funky multiverse traveling powers because a cafeteria bagel hit him on the head makes me violent.

[badaziraphaletakes]

Hello, I just want to state, in the hopes that knowing this can contribute to maybe lowering the temperature in the fandom a bit, that this blog absolutely and categorically was not made with any individual in mind. I think that is a worry people have when they see something like this, and I get why that would be a concern.

So in case this helps, here is how I run the blog:

75% of the takes I post are submitted to me (many with a request from the submitter to stay anonymous), not things I select myself, and they come from a variety of original authors. Occasionally I post one that I saved myself that I've been mulling over, most of which I have had kicking around in my files for months. (Seriously, I put a looooot of thought into this.) Those also come from a variety of people.

When it comes to deciding what to post, I make a point of specifically choosing takes that I have seen re-iterated by a lot of different people. If I post something, it's never because so-and-so wrote it - it just happened to be the particular post I either screenshotted (screenshot?) or was sent. (I also don't save people's handles when I do screenshot a take, unless I'm planning to reply directly to them, so 99 times out of 100 I don't even remember who originally wrote the take).

If I've only seen a take expressed by one person then I don't post it. Period. Because dollars to donuts it's just them bringing their experiences to how they view something. For that reason, individual people's takes aren't of concern to me. When you see a take over and over again, though, that's when I can no longer attribute it to one person's unique perspective and instead begin to look at broader societal biases that may be behind it. I didn't think of the problematic Aziraphale takes I've seen as victim-blaming/anti-Autistic/etc until I saw the sheer number of them. And that's when I realized, huh, this just isn't an individual person looking at it through their own personal lens - something bigger's going on here - this is a societal thing.

I came up with the idea for this blog weeks before deciding to actually make it, and it was not as a reaction to any one post. The idea just popped into my head one afternoon as I was sitting there feeling sad about the Aziraphale hate I was seeing - especially as regards victim-blaming and anti-Autistic bias - and lamenting that I didn't have a space to express how frustrating and hurtful it was. I'm far less concerned with anyone's individual opinions and more concerned with overall trends.

Bottom line: IF IT WAS ONLY ONE PERSON SAYING THESE THINGS, I WOULD NOT HAVE HAD ANY REASON TO CREATE THIS BLOG. That would just be a waste of everybody's time. Moreover, setting out to specifically attack anyone would lower people's experience of the fandom as a whole, and that is the opposite of what I want to do.

The fact that the very brutal anti-Aziraphale takes are coming from a lot of people is exactly why I felt the need to speak up. It made me and a lot of other people feel uncomfortable in the fandom. This blog has been my way of attempting to try to combat that by helping them know they're not alone and give people a space to express how hurtful it has been. (And also to hopefully find some humor in a difficult situation).

If anyone is worried, I hope this can help assuage those worries. I absolutely promise I am not sitting here raging over any specific people or anything like that. I'm just not wound that way. I have no bones to pick with any specific people.

Thanks.

[reasonsmandy]

I'm addicted to you

Warren Rojas x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by anon — So my idea was maybe with Warren or even Billy (if you want to write for him of course), the reader is super shy (maybe she's friends with Daisy, who dragged her along one day you know) and Warren/Billy just took an interest in her and flirts to make her blush, but at first she thinks he's joking or just being nice because "no one actually likes the shy girl". Hope you like it, sorry if it's too specific 😅

✧.* summary — From the first time you met The Six's drummer he was always around you praising you, and picking up on you. And one day you put your shyness aside and return it in kind.

✧.* warnings — none

✧.* word count — 3.7k

✧.* 🥁 — Warren's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — I apologize for the delay in answering your asks, college has been making me crazy lately, but I promise that soon everything will be back to normal, also this isn't revised so there might be some mistakes. Hope you like it 🫶🏾

"Come on Y/N we need your help." Daisy repeats it for the fourth time that morning. "I mean, I can write good songs but you're going to add something to the mix, you know? I already talked to Teddy, he loved the idea."

"Of course he loved it, he loves any opportunity to bring me to the label." You laugh, stirring the food in the pot. "I would love to help you Daisy, but you know I prefer the backstage."

"I promise you it's just going to be the people in the band, no one else." She lifts her pinky for you to intertwine yours. "Come on Y/N, please."

You let out a sigh, squeezing your eyes shut tightly, sure you'd regret it. "Alright, when do we start?"

Your passion for music was no secret to anyone, you always loved portraying your emotions, your feelings, frustrations through music and that's what you've been doing since you were 14 years old, obviously you didn't start professionally at first, it was just you your guitar a paper and a pen in the afternoons after class for a long time before you get the courage to show anyone your lyrics. You knew Daisy from school, and it was to her that you first presented your songs, after that your passion for the musical world brought you two together.

Daisy had the courage that you would never have, and you admired her so much for it, the fact that you were backstage writing the songs, without the public attention, without the fame was never something that bothered you, in fact it was something you preferred. There was something about attention that activated the most intense peak of your anxiety.

Whenever you found yourself in the spotlight, your heart would start to race, pounding in your chest like a wild animal trying to break free. Your palms would become slick with sweat, and your fingers would twitch nervously as if trying to escape the situation. Your breaths would come in short, shallow gasps, as if your lungs were struggling to get enough air. Your stomach would churn with nausea, and you would feel the muscles in your abdomen tighten into knots. You could feel your whole body trembling with tension, every nerve ending on high alert as if waiting for the next attack.

So yeah, you were much better off stage.

Daisy had great difficulty understanding this position of yours, and when she joined The Six she was sure that what they needed was your help to improve those lyrics. She knew that with you, they were going to make the best album in the whole world. She had spent a few weeks preparing the territory, Daisy knew if she wanted you to agree she had to go slowly implanting the ideas in your head little by little until in the end, you agreed.

You didn't have the courage to open your eyes as you felt the wind hit your face, you knew that if you noticed the paths Daisy's car took you would feel butterflies in your stomach. As you approached the label, Daisy glanced at you from time to time, smiling as she found your reaction amusing.

"You're gonna be fine Y/N" You feel the car stop, opening your eyes slowly you notice they had stopped at a light, relieved you let out a sight. "They're nice people, I swear to you… well, except for Billy but don't worry I'll handle him."

"I knew I was going to regret this Daisy." Your voice was weak. "I work much better at home, I might as well work on my parts and hand them to you later."

Daisy looks at you with arched eyebrows. "Without listening to the instruments?"

You shrug, trying to convince yourself you could handle it. Daisy just laughs, and you roll your eyes. "What?"

"Are you serious?" The redhead questions. "You urgently need more social activities."

…

As you stepped out of Daisy's car, your heart began to race. You tried to take deep breaths to calm yourself down, but your anxiety only seemed to intensify with each passing second. You followed Daisy into the label building, feeling like a fish out of water among all the bright lights and bustling activity.

Daisy leads you to the studio they used to record, Teddy says hello from across the sound booth, you wave back at him then turn back to the band members watching you curiously. Immediately you regret it and take your eyes to the ground trying little by little to hide behind Daisy.

"Well, well, well," he said, sauntering over to you. "Who's this pretty little thing that Daisy's brought us?"

You felt your face heat up as you tried to hide behind Daisy, who just rolled her eyes at Warren's flirting.

"This is Y/N," she said, introducing you. "She's a songwriter, and she's been helping me out with the album."

Warren's eyes lit up with interest. "A songwriter, huh? Well, we could always use more talent around here."

He extended his hand towards you, and you hesitated for a moment before shaking it tentatively. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel your cheeks turning pink.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," he said, still holding onto your hand. "I'm Warren."

You pulled your hand back, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Uh, yeah, nice to meet you too."

…

Warren's flirty mood had become a pattern, he loved the way your cheeks flushed in his presence, or how you widen your eyes at every flirtation he gave you, and he thought it was adorable the way you never knew how to handle his compliments, so he always made an effort to come up with something new.

You never knew what to expect, he always took you by surprise at the most unexpected moments, and you just loved that attention coming from him.

The band was sitting on the studio floor, you were further away from the group, in the corner of the room with your notebook, your pen and some crumpled sheets of paper around you. You hummed the tune Graham had created, trying to match your ideas to it, your pen hanging from your lips as you picked it up every now and then to make some adjustments.

Warren tapped some cans while watching you from afar. He loved how you seemed to shut out the world around you when you started writing, how you smiled when you got the lyrics right. He even thought it was really cute when you hated something and dropped your notebook on the floor to take a break.

He smiles at the idea that is born in his mind, he opens his notebook on a random sheet of paper writing something and then making a paper airplane with it. He takes aim in your direction, tongue sticking out as if that will help him concentrate more, and when he feels ready he throws it towards you.

You are snapped out of your concentration by the piece of paper that hits your eye. "Ouch." you exclaim, closing your eyes and rubbing them.

"Shit!" Warren exclaims, moving closer to you. "I'm sorry cariño."

"What was that for?" You struggle to get used to the light in the room again.

"It was supposed to be something cute, now it seems like I wanted to make you blind." He says running his hands through his curls. "Is it rude of me to ask you to read it?"

You can't contain your laughter, he laughs along with you and you shake your head. "I can try."

You undo the paper plane, a little nervous to have the man's gaze centered on you, his handwriting wasn't difficult to understand but with your eye "damaged" by the little accident it took you a while. It read "You must be tired, right?"

You arch your eyebrows in question, looking at him blankly. Rojas had a smirk on his face and soon you knew something curious was coming, he had a smile on his face waiting for you to question him why. So you do so.

"Why?" You ask quietly, he smiles wider.

"Because you've been running through my mind all day long mi amor." He finishes the sentence almost in a whisper, the Spanish nickname sends a chill down your spine that almost immediately brings the blush to your cheeks. "You know something mamita, you're so fucking pretty when you're shy."

He winks at you before standing up, leaving you with a flushed face, a racing heart, and a goofy smile on your face.

…

The smell of fresh coffee invaded their noses, that morning contained a fresh climate and yet the sun was shining brightly in the Los Angeles sky. It's been a few hours since they've been locked in the label's studio trying to improve the pre-chorus of "Aurora". Daisy, Billy and you had been working on this song for the past few days but knew there was something missing right there. Daisy once again stated that she didn't know how to work with empty stomach, so together with The Six they went to the nearest bakery for a more elaborate breakfast.

"You know what? I think it turned out cool that way." Graham states, pointing to the chord Eddie had just written in his notebook. "Maybe you could add longer notes, so as not to overshadow Warren's solo and still show the bass..."

"Great idea dude." Eddie says writing it down, taking a bite of his toast next.

Warren looked uneasy, he had noticed since leaving the studio that you hadn't accompanied them, which left him a little disappointed, as he liked to spend as much time as possible by your side, he eats his order quickly while tapping his feet nonstop, after drinking his juice he turns to Daisy, lighting a cigarette.

"Hey Daisy." He calls for her, catching her attention. "Do you know why she didn't come?"

Daisy smiles, she arches an eyebrow enjoying seeing the drummer's interest in her friend. "It's like you don't know her, any chance to spend some time alone she accepts."

"Yeah yeah of course." He really wanted to go back there, spend more time with you, he was afraid that now that the album was almost finished he wouldn't see you anymore. "Now that I remember! I forgot my drumsticks in the studio." he exclaims, capturing the attention of everyone at the table.

"So what?" Eddie asks. "You're not going to play right now anyways, chill out." He chuckles.

"Actually I just had an inspiration, I need to go get them." Rojas stands up, adjusting the vest on his torso.

Without giving a chance to be contradicted, he leaves through the front door, leaving his friends without understanding much. Daisy smiles at the ridiculous excuse the drummer had come up with to go find you, eager to find out what it would lead to.

The record company wasn't far away, Warren only had to walk a few blocks to reach his destination. He brought you a croissant and coffee, figuring you might be hungry since you didn't join them, he enters the record label excited, wanting to see you as soon as possible but as soon as he hears something different he stops in front of the door of the studio where you record.

He doesn't move listening to the sound of a beautiful, calm, light and yet powerful voice echoing from the room, he doesn't take long to recognize Aurora's melody and without being able to contain his curiosity, open the door slowly. Coming across you sitting on the floor, some sheets spread out next to you and your notebook, pencil dangling from your ear and a guitar in your lap.

He can't contain his smile when he sees you sing, with each passing day he is more and more enchanted by you and your talent always surprises him in a good way. As soon as you finish he makes his presence known by knocking on the door, you take your gaze up to him and he holds up the bag he brought you.

"How long have you been there, uh?" You question without looking him in the eye.

"Long enough to need to ask you something." You definitely didn't expect that answer, so you just wait for him to finish. "Did it hurt when you fell from the sky? Because you have an angelic voice mi amor."

You roll your eyes smiling weakly, Rojas approaches you sitting beside you admiring your flushed face. You muster up the courage to face him, something he didn't expect and as soon as your eyes met his he felt like he was floating, or dreaming even.

"Can I ask you something Warren?" You say softly, directing your speech just for him.

Rojas arches his eyebrows curiously, he rests his head in the palm of his hand watching you closely.

"Sure, go ahead," he says, smiling warmly.

You think twice before saying something, you take a deep breath and say, "Are you a magician? Because whenever I look at you, everyone else disappears."

The drummer had a surprised and yet admiring expression, he licks his lips smiling wide then, the way his eyes get tiny when he smiles makes your heart warm. But as soon as you realized what you said your gaze dropped to your hands, you felt embarrassed by what you said, it seemed ridiculous that you wanted to flirt with a man like him.

"Hey." He says bringing his hand to your chin, lifting your face to look at him. "I never knew you had it in you," he says, still chuckling. "That was actually really cute."

"It was ridiculous." You state, nervous to look him straight in the eye.

"Nothing that comes from you can be ridiculous, mamita." He stops smiling, staring into your eyes as if he's admiring the most beautiful view in the world, and maybe he is. "You're so gorgeous."

…

You were lying on the couch in your apartment, Daisy was sitting on the floor in front of you with the guitar in her lap composing. You bit the pencil and every now and then tapped it against the notebook you have in your hands, you were trying to finish the lyrics to "Regret Me", a song that Daisy had started a few days ago.

"Y/N! Are you here?" The redhead exclaims, snapping her fingers in front of your face.

"Uh? Oh yeah sorry, where were we?" You sit on the couch, your thoughts still in the air.

"What do you have?” Daisy asks, a faint smile on her face. “Want to talk about it?”

"Does Warren usually do that whole pick-up line thing with everyone?" You ask, Daisy's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What pick-up line thing?" Daisy says, not understanding what you were talking about.

"It's just... It just seems ridiculous now that I'm going to tell someone." You let out a laugh, and Daisy still looks lost on the subject. "It's just that lately he's always been hitting on me, or complimenting me whenever he can…"

Daisy looked surprised, she arched her eyebrows and a smile spread across her face. You shake your head, feeling ridiculous for thinking maybe he was actually interested in you.

"Nevermind, it's ridiculous." You say, trying to focus on your notebook but the heat on your cheek wouldn't let you.

"Wait wait, so you're telling me that Warren is flirting with you?" Daisy had a look on your face that couldn't quite name, so you just nod. "Oh my God, I knew it!"

"Excuse me?" You ask, lost in her words. "What do you mean?" Your heart was pounding on your chest.

"I mean, it's obvious that he likes you," Daisy says with a smirk, strumming a few chords on her guitar. "Every time you're around, he's practically glowing."

You let out a small laugh, feeling relieved yet nervous. "I don't know, I mean, he's my coworker and I don't want to make things awkward between us."

Daisy puts down the guitar and turns to you, placing a reassuring hand on your knee. "Trust me, I've seen this before. Sometimes you just have to take a chance on someone and see where it goes."

You look at Daisy, feeling grateful for her support. "What do you suggest I do?"

Daisy thinks for a moment before a mischievous grin spreads across her face. "I suggest you give him a taste of his own medicine. Flirt back a little, see how he reacts."

You raise an eyebrow, feeling a little hesitant. "I don't know if I'm good at that."

Daisy gives you a playful nudge. "Come on, it's all in good fun. And who knows, you might actually enjoy it."

You nod, feeling a little more confident. "Okay, I'll give it a try."

Daisy claps her hands, looking pleased with herself. "That's what I like to hear! Now, let's get back to these lyrics."

As you both return to working on the song, you can't help but feel a little excited about the possibility of something more with Warren.

…

Warren was sitting on the other side of the room, you walked in and he took his gaze to you immediately watching you with a smile on his face. You take a deep breath, remembering Daisy's words, you let out without thinking.

You walk up to him. "Hey there, handsome," you say with a playful smile.

Warren looks up at you, surprised by your sudden flirtation. He stammers for a moment before finally responding, "Uh, hey. What's up hermosa?"

As soon as you see the blush rising on Warren's cheeks, you can't help but feel a sense of pride and excitement. It's as if you've just won a game that you've been practicing for ages. You smile to yourself, feeling like you've finally accomplished something that you've been wanting to do for a long time.

"Nothing much, just wanted to come over and say hi," you say, trying to keep up the playful tone. "But I have to admit, I'm enjoying making you a little shy."

Warren lets out a chuckle, shaking his head. "I'm not used to this, you know. Usually, it's me doing the flirting," he says, still looking a little flustered.

"Well, maybe it's time for a change," you say, feeling encouraged by his reaction. "Who knows, maybe I'll be the one making you blush all day long."

Warren looks at you with a mix of surprise and amusement, but you can tell that he's enjoying the attention. You spend the rest of the day playfully flirting with him, and every time he blushes or stammers, you feel a sense of satisfaction and pride.

You couldn't believe how good it felt to flirt with Warren. All day long, you kept up your teasing and pick-up lines, enjoying the way he blushed and stumbled over his words. Each time he seemed caught off guard, your confidence grew, and you felt a newfound boldness you hadn't known before.

In the break room, you caught him staring at you as you filled up your coffee cup.

"You know, I'm pretty sure this coffee isn't the only thing that's hot around here." you said with a grin.

Warren choked on his own sip of coffee, coughing as he tried to regain his composure. You couldn't help but giggle at the effect you had on him.

Later you find him at the drums playing around with some ideas he had, realizing it was just the two of you. You see another opportunity and approach him, he watches you and already smiles, imagining what could come.

"You know pretty boy, I kinda have a thing for drummers in rock bands." You lean lightly on the drums, winking at him.

"Do you?" He says, his low voice reaching your ears like honey. "Well this drummer right here really is into you, actually…"

"Is that so?" You try to maintain your posture, but it's impossible to deny that every time he smiles your legs give way.

Warren comes out from behind the drums, approaching you, his proximity makes you feel butterflies in your stomach, he doesn't take his eyes off yours and you could spend hours looking into those eyes. When you can already feel his breathing is when he stops, his hands rest on your waist and your breathing becomes increasingly uneven.

"I mean it cariño, I really like you." He whispers, and you feel your heart give up. "I don't think I've ever met someone as unique as you and holy shit I love it. I'm addicted to you, everything that you do, every detail of your face I just can't get enough of your presence… Damn you make me want to get up early to come work in this studio, don't get me wrong, I love my job... My point is, you make everything better."

You didn't expect his words, an involuntary smile takes over your face and you take your hands to his curls, he smiles at the touch caressing your waist pulling you closer to him. He licks his lips bringing his eyes to your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, you nod and he does so.

As Warren's lips meet yours, you feel a jolt of electricity surge through your body. His kiss is gentle and passionate, and it feels like he's been waiting to do this for a long time. You respond to him with equal fervor, your hands slipping up into his hair and your body pressing against his. The kiss is sweet and tender, yet full of longing and desire. You can feel your heart racing in your chest as the kiss deepens, and you wrap your arms around Warren, not wanting this moment to end. As you finally break the kiss, you look up into his eyes and see the same passion and affection that you feel reflected back at you.

"I'm addicted to you too." You manage to say, still mesmerized by his eyes.

He places several kisses on your lips, and you smile at his act. "Let me take you out? Promise you, no more cheesy pick up lines."

"I would accept this invitation even if you spend the whole time hitting on me." You say and he smiles, wasting no time closing the space between you.

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

Want to be tagged when new stories come out? REASONSMANDY'S TAG LIST

[rose-sophia-isabella-rogers]

A Steel That Went Through Hottest Fire: Chapter XX - An Arrow in the Quiver

Chapter Summary: It's time to face Fjerda. Who will win and who will lose? Will Ravka finally be at peace? And what will you get for everything you've done?

Pairing: Aleksander Kirigan/Reader, Alina Starkov/Mal Oretsev, Zoya Nazyalensky/Nikolai Lantsov, Fedyor Kaminsky/Ivan, Genya Safin/David Kostyk

Characters: Aleksander Kirigan, Reader, Nikolai Lantsov, Genya Safin, Alina Starkov, Mal Oretsev, Ivan, Fedyor Kaminsky, Zoya Nazyalensky, David Kostyk, Nina Zenik

Word Count: 4449

A/N: Inspired by prompt: https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389090100611/

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@budugu

@intothesoul

@mizelophsun11

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

@zeeader

@marrymonrich

@wonderland2425

@chelseyyouraverageluigi

@thehufflepuffavenger1

@drinix

Ivan and Tolya return. With a promise of an army. Like Aleksander has predicted, the people of Shu-Han are furious. Their beloved princess is 'dead' because of Fjerda and it has to pay for it. The great battle is about to happen soon.

Everyone is preparing in the ways they can. Including you. Even though you've already did a lot, you still spend days in the workshop, working on your latest project.

This is where one night David finds you. The only reason Kirigan hasn't dragged you from here is because he is at the Grand Palace, busy with another war meeting.

'You've done so much already, [Y/N],' Kostyk says quietly, but still manages to startle you. 'Go and get some rest.'

'I can't,' you huff, combing your hair with your hand. 'Not after what Nina told me about Fjerdans' work on jurda parem.'

'And that is?' David asks, raising his eyebrows. You sigh and remember your conversation with Zenik…

'Jurda parem in gaseous form?' you asked with disbelief. The Heartrender nodded, troubled.

'I wasn't dosed with it in the end, but still…' she said. 'I'm worried our Grisha will be attacked like that during the battle.'

'Everyone is to have a dose of antidote with them, so I wouldn't worry about that,' you said, pensive. 'But you brought up a good point. Gaseous form is more effective. If we had the antidote in that form on the battlefield…'

'We could save Grisha on the Fjerdans' side,' Nina said, her eyes lightning up. You nodded.

'I will think about it,' you promised. Zenik clasped your hands in hers and smiled.

'If anyone can figure it out, it's you,' she said, winking. You stared at her hands, pensive. From all the people, she's been one of the first that seemed to trust you. It puzzled you.

'Thank you,' you said quietly. 'It means a lot.'

'Hey,' the Heartrender said softly. 'I know what you're thinking. But I am the last person who should judge your actions. My lover is a Fjerdan after all.'

She smiled wryly. You thought about Matthias. He was a good man and utterly in love with Nina. But yes. He was a Fjerdan and almost as unpopular as you and Aleksander.

'The heart does what it wants, huh?' you asked, shrugging. Zenik chuckled. She sighed and nodded.

'Oh, yes,' she agreed. 'That's so true.'

'Hm, that is a good idea,' David says, already thinking. You blink, discarding the memory.

'Yeah, but so far it's just that,' you say and huff in frustration. 'I can't believe Fjerdans figured out the gaseous form of parem and I can't do the same with the antidote!'

'Well, they are a little different,' Kostyk points out. 'You're using more raw jurda.'

Instantly, you look at each other. You think of the same.

'That's it,' you say. 'And maybe if we-'

'Instead of-' the Durast says.

'And then-' you add.

'Yes, let's do it,' David says and you two get to work. Some time later, while waiting for your work to cool down, you sit and drink tea.

'I've forgiven you, by the way,' Kostyk says suddenly. 'Your betrayal, lies and manipulation. I get why you did it. Also, I see you were right. Ever since Kirigan has returned, things are finally looking up. We really needed him now. And since three years have passed, some emotions and grudges cooled down. We could put them aside and work together for Ravka.'

'Thank you,' you say after a beat. 'I… I didn't want to betray you. It hurt me. So, your forgiveness means a great deal to me.'

'You are my friend, [Y/N],' the Durast says softly. 'It may take some time, but I'll always forgive you. No matter what you'll do. And I hope this will be the same in your case.'

'I can hardly imagine you doing something so vile you'd need my forgiveness, but of course,' you chuckle. David smiles. You chat for a bit more, then continue your experiment.

When Aleksander walks in later, tired and exasperated with you, you're staring proudly at your work. At first, neither of you even notice his presence.

'We have to test it now,' Kostyk says, pensive. 'But we don't have more affected Grisha.'

'We can always drug someone and then give him an antidote,' you suggest.

'You're thinking about those two Grisha that were ogling Kirigan during the party, aren't you?' David asks. You look at him innocently.

'I'm sure someone will show up soon,' the Darkling speaks up, joining your conversation. 'We still get new Grisha hurt by the parem. So, for now you both can go to sleep.'

'Yes, sir,' Kostyk quickly says and starts cleaning up.

'If no one does, though, can we consider my suggestion?' you ask hopefully. David and Aleksander roll their eyes. You sigh and quickly help Kostyk. Once you're done, the Durast bids you farewell, and leaves. Kirigan takes your hand in his and you go to his chambers.

'So, what was that experiment about?' he asks you.

'We've managed to make the antidote in a gaseous form,' you explain and your lover looks at you, impressed. 'We just have to see if it still works.'

'If it does… it would help immensely in the battle,' the Darkling says and kisses your hand. 'Thank you, milaya. You've already done so much and yet you continue to amaze us all.'

'Well, since I'm not going to be on the battlefield, I want to be useful in another way,' you say. You enter the room, since you've reached it.

'I want to argue about that usefulness, but I'm too exhausted,' Aleksander sighs. You comb his hair with your hand. He closes his eyes, leaning into your touch, relaxing.

'How was the meeting?' you ask.

'Alina and I didn't argue, so that's a success,' he answers. 'Other than that… we still can't agree on the best course of action.'

'Well, you'll get it in the end,' you assure him. 'If not, you can always threaten the generals with me.'

'Hm, I would not like to see you entering a meeting, furious and ready to argue,' Kirigan admits and kisses you softly. 'Thank you, lapushka.'

You beam at him and answer the kiss. It takes a few minutes for you to pull apart.

'You can thank me properly after I give you a massage,' you whisper. The Darkling groans.

'Yes, please, I need it so much,' he asks. You chuckle and push him into the bathroom.

'I'm at your service,' you say teasingly. Aleksander pulls you with him, a mirth in his eyes. A lot of time passes before you finally go to sleep.

*

Everything is ready. Shu-Han's army has arrived. Your warriors feel up to the task. The antidote in a gaseous form is working and you've produced it enough, or so you hope. All of that means it's time to move out to battle.

In the morning when the armies are to set off, you help Aleksander get ready. The atmosphere is solemn, tense. You don't speak. Both of you are scared to break the silence.

'[Y/N]…' Kirigan starts when he's ready. But he trails off and sighs.

'Come back to me, okay?' you ask him. 'I don't fancy bringing you back to life a second time.'

'I'd say it's not possible now, but I know you'd find a way,' the Darkling says, smiling wryly.

'Obviously,' you huff. Aleksander chuckles. He cups your cheek. You lean into his touch, looking at him sadly. You're scared he's not going to return. He's immortal, yes. But some things still can kill him.

'It's going to be okay,' Kirigan says quietly. 'Thanks to you we're well prepared. We're going to win. And I'm not going to die. I made you a promise, didn't I?'

'You did,' you admit. 'But I… can't help it.'

'I know,' the Darkling says. 'I used to thrive in a battle. Now I despise it, because I know it makes you worried or you could get hurt. I wonder why is that, hm?'

You smile slightly, not at all sorry. Aleksander cups your other cheek and touches your forehead with his.

'I love you so hard that I softened,' he says. 'And I don't mind it one bit. I'm a happier man thanks to it.'

You lift your head and make your lips join. You kiss for a minute or so. Then, you pull away, but only slightly.

'Then go and win this, so I could be a happier woman,' you whisper. Kirigan catches your mouth for a moment longer.

'As my lady commands,' he murmurs. 'But before I go… there's something I want to ask you.'

He takes your hands in his. You look at him quizzically. He seems nervous for some reason.

'When I come back… I'd like to marry you,' he says, stunning you. 'If you'll have me, that is. Since we're both immortal now, I understand I'd be tying you to me forever. If you're not sure, need more time or you-'

You silence him with a finger on his lips. He looks at you, hopeful and scared. But to his relief you smile.

'Yes,' you say. The fearsome Darkling laughs, overjoyed. He kisses you again and again.

'Now you better win quickly,' you say when you finally stop. 'I don't want to wait long.'

'Neither do I,' Aleksander says, grinning. You join hands and leave his chambers. Ivan and Fedyor, who are happily married since last week, follow you. Soon, you're outside with the rest of the army.

'[Y/N], are you sure you're not coming?' Nikolai asks, walking to you. 'You can, if you want.'

'Oh, I'm sure,' you confirm, nodding. 'I don't want to be anywhere near a battle until I learn to control fully my amplified abilities.'

Lantsov nods in understanding. He smiles charmingly at you.

'Then keep an eye on the capital, will you?' he asks.

'Hm, I don't know,' you say playfully. 'Haven't I done enough?'

'You've done,' the King says, suddenly serious. 'You've done so much to help us win this. If we do, I know it's mostly thanks to you.'

He offers you his hand. You stare at it for a moment. Then, you grab it and you shake it.

'Good luck, moi tsar,' you say, bowing your head with respect. He nods back and goes to his horse. You bid farewell to the rest of your friends. Even David goes with others. Suddenly, Alina shows up next to you.

'[Y/N],' she greets you and becomes nervous. 'I… Can we talk?'

'What is it?' you ask, trying not to sound too much hostile.

'I want to apologise,' Starkov says after a beat. You look at her with raised eyebrows. She sighs.

'I hate it, but Aleksander's ideas were mostly spot on,' she starts. 'And he genuinely seems to have changed. I know it's thanks to you. You… were right. About so many things. Maybe even most of them.'

You stare at her. You see your silence makes her even more nervous.

'Good luck, Alina,' you finally say. 'Win this war and come back home. I honestly wish for that for you.'

'Thank you,' the Sun Summoner says quietly. She walks away. Her slumped shoulders tell you the conversation didn't go as she hoped.

'Alina!' you call after her after a moment of hesitation. She turns, a hopeful look in her eyes.

'Maybe one day I'll be able to forgive you,' you say. 'As I hope you'll forgive me. But now… it's still too soon.'

She nods her head in understanding and walks away. You watch her joining Mal. They talk and smile after a moment. You turn your head and look at Nikolai. He meets your gaze and grins.

'Best of luck,' you say.

'I have your antidote, best warriors I could hope for and a perfect equipment,' he says. 'I think we're more than ready to win this.'

'Just don't get too cocky,' you warn him.

'Don't worry, I won't let that happen,' Zoya says, showing up on her horse next to Lantsov. 'You try not to ruin the Little Palace while we're away.'

'What about the Grand Palace?' the King questions. Nazyalensky shrugs.

'I don't care, it's ugly anyway,' she says. Nikolai looks at you pleadingly.

'Look after it as well,' he asks.

'But I don't like it either,' you say. Lantsov sighs and turns to his soldiers.

'Move out!' he orders and the armies slowly head out. You manage to catch the gaze of Aleksander. You smile at each other and nod.

'Good luck,' you whisper. After everyone is gone, you turn and go back to the Little Palace. Now all you can do is wait.

*

It takes some time to reach the border with Fjerda. But the King's army finally does and a day later the battle starts. It's not pretty. Many people die. But thanks to your antidote, Zoya's excellent training, Kirigan's spot on strategy and some other things, they seem to be winning.

'Nikolai!' Zoya shouts at some point. He quickly turns to her, alarmed. But she doesn't seem to be harmed.

'If we survive this, you can ask me!' she shouts. 'You know, that certain question!'

Lantsov stares at her, stunned. Then, he grins.

'Seriously?' he asks, beaming at her. She barely manages to stop a smile forming on her face.

'Yes,' she says. 'But I want it to be public. I want to see the faces of courtiers when you do it.'

The King chuckles. Then he has to duck, because Zoya suddenly shoots flames in his direction. Behind him someone screams. He looks at his general sheepishly. She sends him an annoyed glare.

'But try to live to that moment, hm?' she asks. He salutes her and returns to the battle.

Some time later, it's over. While at first the numbers on both sides have been even, when Ravkans started using antidote on drugged Grisha on Fjerdan's side, the numbers turned. Because when they were no longer under the effect of parem, Grisha with fury turned on Fjerda. Mostly thanks to that, Ravka and Shu-Han are victorious. Well, Zoya, Aleksander and Alina attacking with enormous power helped as well.

Nikolai walks to one of Fjerdan generals to make him announce the surrender officially. He's lying on the ground, coughing out blood, Kirigan's shoe on his chest. He laughs when he sees the approaching Lantsov.

'You may have won today, false king,' he says. 'But you have nowhere to come back to.'

Dread fills Nikolai. He looks with alarm at the Darkling. His expression is grim as well. And worried.

'I knew there's too little of them,' Mal murmurs. Lantsov turns to Zoya.

'Go,' she says before he can say something. 'Alina and I will make sure it's over here. Ravka needs you to be there. Both of you.'

She looks at Aleksander. He nods at her in gratitude. The King wants to argue. But he knows Nazyalensky is right. So, he barks orders and takes some soldiers with him. Then, they speed up to Os Alta.

Which is under attack. When they first attack, you're in your room, writing a letter to your lover. But sudden commotion interrupts you. You bolt out of the room.

'We're under attack!' a panicked soldier shouts, running to you. 'Fjerda has carried out a sneak attack! They're going to be here within an hour!'

You curse under your breath. You think on your feet.

'Gather everyone we have in the throne room of Grand Palace,' you order. The soldier doesn't even question you. He just nods and rushes out.

Ten minutes later you enter the room full of soldiers and Grisha. But it's still not enough to defeat an army that's coming to get you. Especially, since most of Grisha are still learning. The rest are Durasts and Alkemi. The experienced ones are on the front.

'We're gonna die,' someone whispers.

'No, we're not,' you deny. 'We can't win, but we're not gonna die.'

'What's the difference?' someone asks.

'This Palace has been made to withstand a siege,' you say. 'All we have to do is hold on until the army returns. And I know we can do it.'

'What about people from the capital?' someone asks.

'They're being evacuated as we speak,' you answer. 'So, what do you say?'

'But we're not fighters,' a Durast says shyly.

'No, but we're clever,' you counter. 'Like I said, we don't need to win. We just have to stop them from entering the Grand Palace and Little Palace. We're going to use our talents for this. Anything we can create that can stop them, we're making it. Same goes for the rest of you. It doesn't matter how much you can control your powers at the moment. In fact, let it loose on Fjerdans. As long as we work together, we can hold them out until the return of the King. I'm certain of that. So, who's with me?'

Everyone exchanges a look. When they turn to you, their eyes are filled with determination. They nod. You're going to do it.

By the time Nikolai returns with his part of the army, there's a total chaos everywhere. But the Fjerdans are still not inside any of the palaces. In fact, some Fjerdans try to desert.

'Well, it's better than I feared,' Lantsov comments. 'Come on!'

They attack the enemy. Soon, Aleksander, the King, Fedyor and Ivan are almost at the door to the Little Palace. But suddenly, a Fjerdan shows up out of nowhere and manages to thrust his sword in Kirigan's shoulder.

'Die, Darkling!' he shrieks. The Shadow Summoner grunts in pain.

'That was stupid,' Ivan comments, absolutely calm.

'Very stupid,' Fedyor agrees, nodding, also not bothered. Nikolai opens his mouth to say something, confused, but is interrupted by a vicious battle cry. Then, something falls from the sky (or rather a windowsill but they don't know that) and lands on the enemy's back.

'Die, die, die!' you scream, stabbing (or as you'd say, aggressively poking) the soldier. Lantsov's eyes widen.

'This is why we're more scared of her than him,' Fedyor explains, motioning with his head at Kirigan. A Healer is already by his side, tending to his wound.

'I can understand that,' the King says, nodding, and returns to the battle. When it's won by Ravka, he surveys the battle field. He's surprised to find you still stabbing/aggressively poking the same soldier from before. But now he's dead and lying on his stomach on the ground.

'[Y/N],' Ivan says, walking to you. 'Leave him alone. He's been dead for some time now.'

'I'm. Venting. My. Frustration,' you growl, stabbing the guy with every word. 'You. Have. No. Idea. How. Stressful. That. Was.'

The Heartrender sighs. He wonders what to do, but then Aleksander shows up. He simply takes the dagger out of your hands, picks you up and cradles you in his arms.

'It's alright, milaya,' he murmurs and looks at Nikolai. 'It's over now.'

*

Fjerdan has been defeated and forced to sign a treaty. Shu-Han has been held responsible for their attacks and also forced to laid down their weapons. They also must stop creating more khergud and stop kidnapping Grisha. Ravka is finally at peace and united.

Nikolai decides to honour everyone that has made it possible. Which means a huge ceremony. You're terribly bored at it and mostly don't listen to the King praising people. Until he gets to Zoya. Then, you watch her joining him with a great interest.

'Zoya Nazyalensky, general of the Second Army,' Lantsov starts. 'My partner and most trusted advisor during the past years. There's no doubt you've played a huge part in our victory. This peace wouldn't be possible without you.'

You swear you can hear her murmuring 'obviously'. You smile.

'I thought you'd serve as my general for many years to come,' Nikolai goes on. 'But recently I realised there's a better position for you. If you agree to take it, Ravka has a chance to become even stronger and prouder.'

You notice her tensing. Lantsov either doesn't see it or ignores it, as he lowers himself on one knee. People start murmuring. You focus only on the couple. The King shows his general a box with a gorgeous ring inside it.

'Zoya Nazyalensky,' he says, 'will you give me the honour of becoming your husband?'

You see her lips twitching in reaction to the phrasing of the question. But she stays silent. Nikolai becomes nervous.

'Come on, Zoya, don't do this to me now,' he murmurs. Nazyalensky almost snorts.

'Yes,' she finally says, offering her hand. Lantsov quickly puts a ring on one of her fingers, before she changes her mind. People cheer and clap. You, Genya and Fedyor are probably the loudest.

Zoya goes back to her place, showing with pride her ring to those around her. The King's eyes land on the Darkling. The latter walks to the former. The room falls silent. You hold your breath.

'Before I start, how should I address you?' Nikolai whispers.

'Aleksander Kirigan,' the Shadow Summoner decides after a beat. Lantsov nods.

'Aleksander Kirigan, the Darkling, the peace advisor,' he says, louder. 'At first, I wasn't sure if this was going to work. But you held your end of the bargain. Without your help, your advice and skills, maybe none of us would be standing here today. We've been at war once. But I think we both learnt that our dreams are actually quite similar, if not the same. You've proven your loyalty to Ravka and helped me keep its people save. Which is why, in thanks for your contributions for our country, I grant you a full pardon for your past crimes. Every one of them. Including creating the Fold that has separated us for centuries.'

People murmur, astonished. You smile with tears in your eyes.

'Your most gracious, moi tsar,' Aleksander says, bowing his head.

'That was our agreement,' the King says and smiles. 'Besides, you've earned it. In fact… your old position is going to be open. Would you care to become the general of the Second Army again, after the present one becomes the Queen of Ravka?'

People gasps. There's more murmuring.

'I'd be honoured, moi-' Kirigan starts.

'Nikolai,' Lantsov interrupts him and two men share a look. After a moment of silence, the King offers his hand to your lover. The Darkling shakes it, smiling. Then, he returns to his place by your side, accompanied by clapping and cheers.

'[Y/N] [L/N],' Nikolai says, silencing everyone. You slowly make your way to him. You can't help but wonder why are you the last. It worries you a bit. But seeing a kind look Lantsov gives you, you calm down.

'Where to begin?' he asks, spreading his arms, and laughs. 'By creating the antidote to jurda parem, you've saved Grisha. All of them. When you created its gaseous form, you helped turned the tide of the battle with Fjerda. Your design of kefta and uniforms saved countless lives. And let's not forget… you've brought back to life the Darkling. Without whom the victory wouldn't be possible.'

There are no murmurs this time. People are quiet. You could hear a pin drop.

'I can't deny, your actions caught us all by surprise,' the King goes on. 'The truth is, we should have seen it all coming. Because you are extraordinary. But you've been overlooked by everyone. Invisible, even. We would have seen it all if we had just bothered to look.'

You clench your teeth. You can feel tears forming in your eyes. You have no idea why he reminds you of the years of isolation you had to endure.

'I can say I didn't know you back when my father was the king,' Nikolai continues. 'But I ignored you as well. Put you in a cell. While your only "crime" was falling in love. For that, I apologise.'

He bows his head to you. You blink, surprised. People murmur, astonished as well. Lantsov looks at you again.

'You had every reason to hate us all, hate this country and not move a finger to save it from collapsing,' he says. 'But instead, for the past years you've done what you could to make sure Ravka can rise strong and powerful. After the Fold was destroyed, you told me I can't stitch it back together on my own. That I needed Kirigan. You were right. You brought him back and you proved us all how wrong we were to ignore you and underestimate you. We can all argue who did the most to save our homeland this time. But in my eyes, there is no doubt… that the person who made it possible for our army to win… is you. [Y/N] [L/N], the Saviour of Ravka.'

You stare at him, stunned, as he falls on his knees in front of you. For you.

'[Y/N] [L/N], the Saviour of Ravka!' Zoya calls and also knees. One by one, your friends and Aleksander do the same. Even Alina and Mal.

'[Y/N] [L/N], the Saviour of Ravka!' the rest of the court shouts and every single one of them falls on their knees. You look around, stunned and with tears in your eyes. You can feel some of them rolling down your face.

No longer invisible. No longer unnoticed and underestimated. Finally seen. Finally appreciated. And… when you look at all the smiles of the people you care about… no longer alone.

You look at Nikolai. He smiles warmly at you.

'Thank you,' you whisper.

'No, [Y/N],' he says, shaking his head. 'Thank you.'

He stands up and everyone follows suit. They look at him. It's clear he's not done.

'When Kirigan will return to being the General, he won't be my peace advisor anymore,' he finally says. 'And since this position's been just created, it would be a shame to dispose of it. Would you be interested to take it?'

'On one condition,' you say. Lantsov freezes. You grin at him.

'Just kidding,' you say. 'I'd be happy to, moi tsar.'

'You'll give me a heart attack one day,' the King sighs. You laugh and bow to him. You return to Aleksander's side, accompanied by cheering and clapping. Kirigan at once takes your hands in his.

'We've done it,' he murmurs into your ear. 'We've brought peace and stability to Ravka.'

'And more importantly, we can finally be together,' you say. The grin on his face tells you that he agrees with that. He presses a kiss to your forehead and you smile. Finally, all is well.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts! Reblog, like and comment if you could. Every comment makes my day!

This can also be found on Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52696933/chapters/135677767

[mumms-the-word]

tbh i'm actually kind of pissed at larian. regardless of if it's sticking it to hasbro or not, they're leaving the game in a potentially awful state and not delivering on promises they made, like the upper city. You also have SWEN talking about shit that could have been like ketheric's recruitment and what not, which stirs the pot even more and makes me angry. Like stop talking about it. we're already upset enough.

These are all very valid critiques, anon! I have many thoughts but I’ll put everything under the cut since I got a little long-winded because I’m passionate about video games in general.

I do play a bit of Devil’s Advocate here but please note I am not attacking you personally or trying to direct any hate towards anybody at all! This ask honestly gave me space to vent some thoughts I’ve had for months about this game. I did my best to offer nuanced perspectives and acknowledge my own biases. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, including their own disappointments and praises for Larian, Swen, the actors, and all involved in the making/maintaining (or lack thereof) of BG3.

TLDR: We shouldn’t put Larian on a pedestal as the Best Studio Ever, but we don’t have to grab our pitchforks and say they’re the worst studio ever either. If BG3 is a disappointment it might be because Larian flew a little too close to the sun trying to squeeze 80% of a functional D&D experience into a digital video game package, when (in my opinion) those two game genres are almost inherently designed to not mesh well, disappointing one fan while satisfying another.

———

Point #1, Idk how much Larian is sticking it to Hasbro but Hasbro IS a greedy corporation who has no idea how to make video games and I very highly suspect they’ve been making demands of Larian’s team that are impossible to meet without destroying the work ethic (and health/mental health/financial stability, etc) of Larian’s team. Hasbro just sees dollar signs. Larian isn’t necessarily as interested in milking BG3 for all it’s worth.

If they were, we’d be paying for Upper City in a DLC, and we’re not. Instead they’re choosing to pivot to a fresh new project that isn’t beholden to Hasbro or the demands of WOTC. Does it feel like they’re abandoning the game? Yeah, kinda. But if Swen says that his team looked visibly relieved to move on to something new, that gives me warning bells. Not against Swen, but about the crunch standard of games industries as a whole and possibly against Hasbro or WOTC. I’d much rather his team take care of their very human selves than grind themselves to ultimate burnout working on a game that is functionally complete, if buggy in places and not satisfying for some players because they didn’t get the content they wanted.

There is no perfect game, after all.

And honestly I’d say the same of any AAA studio too. I am consistently frustrated with game studios firing whole departments for the sake of retaining profits and treating their employees like content robots. Games should not be made at the expense of anyone’s physical or mental health, but unfortunately that’s The Industry Standard. (And personally I think Larian or at least Swen is uncomfortable with that.)

(Also I think people forget that making a game the size of BG3 requires the talents and hard work of hundreds of people. Larian was working with, what, 400 people? And that was after they hired like 250+ to even rise to the challenge of making BG3. Who are we even pointing the finger at for all these issues? Swen? He’s one man.)

Should they have promised something they couldn’t deliver? No. But also, I have no idea what issues led them to cutting the content, either. What’s done is done.

BG3 will be an obsolete game in a year or soon anyway, not because Larian isn’t working on it anymore, but because the games industry is just So. Freaking. Big. and pumps out thousands of games a year. Like, I hate to say it, but people are already dropping BG3 for other games like Dragon’s Dogma 2 because DD2 is shiny, new, and has a bonkers character creator.

And there’s nothing wrong with that! We’re not built to play (or work on) a narrative-focused game for 5-7 years, regardless of what any die-hard Destiny fan tells you (note: multiplayers without narrative get a pass purely because the focus isn’t on the narrative, but on collaborative play).

If a game is no longer fun to play, move on and find something that scratches your itch. Go back and play old games! There are so many things out there to explore. I have a To Be Played pile literally right now, a backlog of games I haven’t tried out yet. I’m sure many others do too.

Point #2 (and here I could be wrong, if I’m not already wrong in my opinions above), but they’re not entirely abandoning the game like…at the drop of a hat. They’re still promising at least a handful of hotfixes and at least one more patch with new evil epilogue endings (among other things).

Does that get us Upper City? Likely not. Does that add enough content to give Wyll a more well-rounded storyline, elevate all the romances to Astarion levels of cutscenes and dialogue, and finish Karlach’s questline with an actual solution for her heart? Also likely not. Is it precious to be mad about these losses? No! Be mad!! Wyll deserves justice!!!

I’d love to explore Upper City. I’m a huge advocate for Wyll getting more/better representation. If I could save Karlach without throwing her into Avernus I would in a HEARTBEAT. But these things aren’t in the game, and they likely won’t be. Larian made decisions to meet a (self-imposed? Hasbro imposed? Industry-relevant?) deadline that are ultimately disappointing. We can absolutely acknowledge that we’re disappointed.

But I don’t necessarily think Larian is just being lazy about these decisions, though. At the end of the day we have no idea what contracts Larian is under, what hell the developers have been through, either from the game industry, Hasbro, rabid fans, or excessively cruel critics, or what technical/gameplay/scheduling/financial issues they ran into at various parts of development.

Like the Ketheric thing (Point #3). Was it bad PR to bring up that Ketheric was a “kill your darlings” decision late in development around the same time you’re openly promoting the end of your relationship with BG3? Yeah. Totally. But I’m not surprised they had to cut something like that. Games, movies, books do that all the time. How many deleted scenes from movies have we seen where it could have changed the whole narrative (maybe even made it better) if it had just stayed in? I can think of a handful. It sucks, but trust me, it hurts the writers and developers way more to cut content they’ve poured money and time and heart and soul into than it hurts us, the players who would never know the wiser if they hadn’t said anything.

But also, the game is ABSOLUTELY MASSIVE. On PC you have to have 150GB free just to install it. Can you imagine how big it would be if they had shoved everything they wanted into it, even if they had delayed the game a while to make it happen? 150GB is a lot.

For perspective, that puts it on par with a very, very, VERY tiny sector of PC games at about the same level (or higher) of GB requirements, including Red Dead Redemption 2 (a fantastic open world game that still holds up in 2024), Microsoft Flight Simulator (which requires 150GB because it’s literally just flying through high quality renders of actual Earth), Forspoken (everyone says all the GB went to graphics here and I believe them), Star Wars: Jedi Survivor (which only has about 50 hours of playable content, allegedly), basically any VR game, and ARK: Survival Evolved which comes in at a whopping 400 GB mostly because of DLC. In other words, games that big get that big either because of graphics or like a hundred DLCs.

BG3 manages to fit in gorgeous cinematics, a super complex spell-combat system, a more or less streamlined video game build for complex D&D combat rules and mechanics, 10 potential companions, 8 romances among those companions, several large maps to explore, and branching narratives that would take you days to read every scrap of dialogue for (I’ve downloaded the datamined files for Patch6, and there are whole leagues of dialogue, encounters, and bits that are in the game, unbugged, that most of us pass by because we don’t explore enough). You want to know where most of the GB goes? It goes towards sustaining a D&D combat/narrative structure that was originally never built with video game constraints in mind.

Do you know how many conditions/status effects there are in the game? Over 1100. 1100+ unique descriptions and titles for conditions that debuff or buff your character or your enemies, granting hundreds of actual gameplay affects. Do you know how many spells there are across the 12 playable classes and all unique spells for enemies and allies? Like 400, if we’re getting picky and splitting hairs over stuff like Rolan’s Magic Missile being different than the usual Magic Missile or if we’re splitting out something like Disguise Self into its 32 different variations. Each spell needs a different icon, a different graphic effect, and it needs to do the right kind of damage and cause the right kind of condition or effect, some of which are immediate, others which linger.

We can speak with dead with hundreds of characters. That’s a lot of dialogue. We can talk to ANY named NPC. That’s a lot of dialogue! We can talk to any animal, with or without speak with animals enabled. That’s a lot of dialogue!!

A single playthrough where I try to explore as much as possible takes me 150 hours or more. I have 500 hours in this game and I’ve only got 4 characters and I’ve only finished 2 of them. This game is mind-bogglingly big. Even if it’s not the biggest game in history ever, or even the biggest game by the time of its release, its BIG.

The biggest critique I would have here is one that I’ve had since I first started playing the game, and it’s that D&D systems and video games don’t mesh comfortably well. I think that Larian got distracted trying to make the ultimate D&D experience, catering to a demographic that is known to ignore plot and pursue shenanigans, and Larian felt the need to build in a lot of shenanigans.

I think they got a little overzealous about it, and that’s where we have missing content, and a lot of fluff that isn’t always plot-relevant. If the game feels unfinished, it’s because Larian started too many threads, and while there are endings to all of those threads, many of them feel rushed or unsatisfactory. Why do they feel unsatisfactory? Because we’re offered so much freedom early on, only to be pulled back into the much more limited narrative constraints of a video game at the end. Because the game has to end eventually, unlike a D&D campaign which could go on or explore many other possibilities. But by act 3 in a 150 GB game, we’re running out of time and space.

And yes that’s disappointing as hell and Larian could and arguably SHOULD have made different decisions on what to focus on.

But ultimately, you just can’t fit a full-on, any-choice-goes D&D experience in a game that needs to be packaged neatly enough to run on most PCs or consoles, and Larian was ambitious as hell to try. Contrary to popular belief, I think they did pretty freaking well given the challenge, and no, it isn’t perfect, and no, to confess to my own bias, I don’t have the same complicated history with the game that early access or release day players have because I bought the game like 2 months after it was out and patched twice. But they’ve clearly built a game that people love so much they’re upset there isn’t more of it, or at least upset it isn’t the best it can be.

But sometimes we have to be realistic too. I can only imagine how many more bugs or render issues we’d get if they did try to shove in Upper City at this point. Games can only be so big before they start to become too much for the systems that try to run them and I don’t want the games industry veering towards making games an elitist hobby for only the rich and elite who can afford expensive rigs and $100 games.

(And also, I’m not at all upset that for $70 bucks I got 500 hours of gameplay and I’m not 100% sick of it yet. When EA and Activision are getting players to pay hundreds in micro transactions and DLC and dangling extra maps and new missions behind paywalls? Bish, please, I’m good. You want to talk about an unfinished experience? Dragon Age: Inquisition made us pay for our epilogue content as a DLC. At least Larian built theirs in for free from the start.)

Anyway.

All that said, I’m sure if Larian could turn back the clock and start over, they’d make different decisions about what to keep, cut, and refine. But we’re here now.

If I want to see anything from Larian right now, it’s a dedication to fix ongoing bugs that make the game unplayable or that block the narratives that they have built so that they play correctly (like with the Minthara romance). IDEALLY I’d like to see them add more content for companions other than Astarion, to equalize the romance experiences, but I’m not holding my breath (again, considering things like game development, actor schedules, contracts, etc).

While I’m sad about the permanent loss of stuff like the Upper City and disappointed by all the rushed questlines, I’d rather them fix the bugs that make the game un-fun to play and bow out gracefully once they’re sure the game won’t need constant supervision.

Besides, they’re working on cross-platform mod support, and mods are gonna add and mess with the game for many years to come, so we can pivot to support them instead while Larian works on its next game (and hopefully learns from its mistakes with BG3).

[akira1509]

A stupid story of a skk falling in love with the leader of Gray Raven

Warning: - Reposted from Twitter - All of this are just ideas, not actual fanfic with polished writing - Skk x Lucia (female skk) - Some of the minor changes can be found

Skk was the one who fell in love first. When she came across Lucia, she was intrigued by the determination in the crimson eyes. "They are...so beautiful." - skk couldn't help but make a compliment, but it didn't reach Lucia.

On the way returning the dormitory, skk had to go passing the training field for constructs. She often stopped there for a few minutes, watching the soldiers of Babylonia running around the field.

For some reasons, she kept searching for that female construct in black and red, and felt weirdly at ease when she finally found her. Without knowing, this became her little habit; that feeling of wanting to meet the girl with determination in her crimson pupils became bigger and bigger each day.

After graduating F.O.S and officially became a Commandant, she chose to become Gray Raven's Commandant when she saw Lucia in the corner of the room. She was really happy when she could finally meet Lucia face to face, but then realized something about Lucia's gaze had changed. "It is still determined, but somehow...it has more warmth..."

"I don't know why, but I like her this way more!" - that was what skk thought whenever she and Lucia practiced together. "Has anyone told you...that your eyes look so beautiful?" "You always make me feel something." "I didn't realize there's an angel this close to my eyes." Those were her "jokes" whenever skk fell on the floor, with Lucia sitting on her belly, pointing a knife at her neck.

They were partly her true feelings, but she often said those sentences with a really flirty tone to cover her excitement, and she often got embarrassed after saying those words.

Skk's efforts to flirt in such a stupid way somehow succeeded when she noticed Lucia told her that skk was okay too with a blushed face. Skk almost got a heart attack and couldn't sleep that night.

But God didn't seem to allow skk to confess to her beloved one. The first meeting with that mysterious construct, the incidence with the Forsaken and Kamui, then the ARU, and the war in Kowloong. Everything forced skk and so many people to throw unnecessary feelings aside.

Despite that, skk was happy to fight along with Lucia, and her heart bumping hard whenever she saw that beautiful lotus blooming in the battlefield. That was why skk was so relieved when Lucia came to save her with her new frame, but little did she know she would soon lose someone she held dear so much again.

She admitted that she still missed the Lucia she first fell in love with, but more than that, she was frustrated of herself for not being able to protect Lucia again. Whenever Lucia seemed to be tired, skk would offer a big hug and pat Lucia on her back. Constructs didn't feel tired, but for some reasons, the Lucia in the past seemed to like it. So when Lucia gave her a confused look when skk stood in front of her with arms opening, skk finally accepted the painful truth.

The distance between skk and Lucia kept wider, until that day in Venus Splash Park. Skk, sitting beside Lucia, listening to her apology for not being able to become the Lucia she used to love, and made a promise to skk that, she would protect skk even if she was not allowed to receive anything back.

The determination in Lucia's eyes made skk realize she was the one who abandoned Lucia when her beloved one was so confused and lost. Why did she forget the reason she fell for this girl in the first place? "She didn't disappear, it was me who refused to move forward." - skk thought, while holding Lucia's hand.

"I'm sorry, it was me who hurt your feeling." - skk looked at the red pupils she can never forget, her hands held tighter. - "Let's do it again, shall we? From zero to one." "So I should say….it's nice to meet you? Then, it's nice to meet you again, Commandant." "It's nice to meet you again too, Lucia. I hope we can get along!"

It didn't really take that long for Lucia and skk to get back to their old days at all. One difference was that, skk always tried to bring her beloved one to different places, like normal couples going on a date. Liv and Lee knew that too, so Liv tried her best to think of the best outfit for Lucia every time, and Lee reminded skk not to make Lucia sad again else he would commit violence.

They created so many new memories together, the ones only Plume had. Of course, there were arguments too, but most of the time there would always be a smile on both of their faces.

And that day finally came, when they were on the ship waiting for support after that incidence in the "not really a fairy tale park". The prince finally got the courage to kiss her beloved mermaid, although it was only on her cheek. At last, she could be able to tell the feelings that she had been keeping in her heart for the longest time. "I love you, Lucia."

[acourtofthought]

I don’t think what went down with that e/lriel was fair. I think it was beneath you. I am also using my phone, so I apologise for any weird formatting.

Let me preface this by saying - You made valid points. I just don’t understand why you went to their post, and commented at all? To be honest, I don’t think you were in the right on that, and it makes us look bad. We’ve been accused of baiting in the past, and I’ve always scoffed at it..but you undeniably did go onto their post to seemingly start a fight. I also don’t think it’s a fair claim, that they could stop responding - when it was their post and blog to begin with, and not some random post that invited discussion. That is an unrealistic, and unfair expectation. I would tell someone who came into my space like that to “fuck off” too. That e/lriel you engaged with IS problematic, undeniably so. Everyone knows it. I just feel you gave them something valid to whine about this time. I am genuinely confused and frequently disgusted by our ACOTAR community as a whole. We call each other hypocrites, and yet do the very same thing we accuse our antis of. One of your reiterated points is “you hate when e/lriels say Eluciens lack reading comprehension” - a very fair gripe to be sure! However I’ve seen numerous posts from “our” side of the line, claiming that very thing of E/lriels..I’ve seen much worse claimed of them, by us..Truly, I wish you would have just vagued that E/lriel instead of engaging like that. It was disappointing, and I’m annoyed that today I actually feel bad for them.

I apologize that my responding to something in the Elain tag has upset you to the point that you felt the need to message me.

I LOVE a lot of the people that I've interacted with through Tumblr. I love reading their blogs, their ideas, their thoughts. And I love that there is a collective group who love Elucien like I do.

At the same time, I am still an independent thinker and operate based on my emotions and thoughts. If I feel angered over others being attacked then I'm not the kind of person who's going to sit back and do nothing. If something frustrates me and I feel driven to speak up, I'm going to do it.

Truly, I apologize if that somehow gives the collective Eluciens a bad name. But the Original Poster was ridiculing others under the Elain tag which leaves it open for anyone following the Elain tag to comment on.

I was presenting an opinion to her, in response to a post which I felt did not provide accurate information. If she did not like my reblog response, she could have ignored me. She could have blocked me. But she chose to respond and progressively got nastier. I don't think there is anything wrong with responding to an open blog that has the tag of Elain in it, regardless of whether or not that blog was created by her or not. She blogged something with a tag that would be seen by both Elucien and Elriels. That's like saying when an actor posts a promo for their movie, only people who agree with a certain group of critics should be allowed to comment. The Elain tag belongs to no one in particular which, in my opinion means it's open for discussion. When a neutral tag is used, people are going to speak up. I don't think that means anyone is giving their ship a bad name if it's done in a certain way. What gives certain sides of a fandom a "bad name" is not the back and forth discussion with someone. It's when name calling and belittling others happens. It's when people forget how to have any actual debate and resort to pettiness.

I'm not sure what more to say because while I'm sorry it bothered you to this extent, I'm not going to be the kind of person who doesn't speak out when I feel like it's in defense of others. I know I don't always succeed but for the most part, I try to discuss the book rather than turning into a personal attack. And while I don't enjoy having someone upset with me, I can't promise I won't speak out again in the future.

[asmrtist-brainrot]

What y'all are saying about Vee realising he's in love with cheeky is literally just head over heels by tears for fears

Listen to it, you'll know what I mean 'cause that shit is so cute

(This is the second time I'm writing this so I'm kind of furious - 🙃)

Anon, your brain - I have the lyrics here so let's dive in.

(Part of Verse 1)

"You keep your distance via the system of touch

...

I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much?

Oh, you're wasting my time"

Cheeky being so clearly physically affectionate???

V admitting to himself that not only that he might need them but actually does feel more than just love? Not being able to tell if they genuinely love him??

Frustration in that he can't tell and therefore feeling like he's wasting time thinking about it?

(Part of Verse 2)

"I made a fire, and watching it burn

Thought of your future

With one foot in the past, now just how long will it last?

Now, now, now, have you no ambitions?"

Thinking about how he brought them into a life of running and even grabbing the attention of dangerous people? Putting them on a radar that caused some of their mental strife???

Thinking about his future and how he can't imagine them not with him, but also unable to tell if he is in their future -

Meanwhile he's still wrapped up in his past and all the things he had to do and see.

Wondering if they go down this avenue; would they last?

Chiding himself for wishful thinking??

(Part of Verse 2)

"My mother and my brothers used to breathing clean air

...

It's hard to be a man when there's a gun in your hand"

About his general soft feelings for his past loved ones and how this is so clearly different from just platonic emotions.

Also how difficult it is for him to acknowledge these emotions after being called weak before for having them.

(The Pre-Ending)

"And this is my four leaf clover

I'm on the line, one open mind

This is my four leaf clover"

How rare they really are in his life, both as a type of person and in the manner he loves someone.

How he realizes that if anyone knew how deeply he actually cares, it could endanger both them and him. As it leaves him open to more attack through them.

As he promised to protect them.

(The Ending)

"In my mind's eye

One little boy, one little man

Funny how time flies"

Reminiscing.

Both about how much time has flown and actually how little he'd felt had changed from when he was young.

How small he feels after being struck like this.

(The Chorus)

"Something happens and I'm head over heels

I never find out until I'm head over heels

...

Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart

Don't, don't, don't throw it away"

And there it is, so beautifully encapsulating how sudden his love is - how he doesn't know until it's staring him in the face. The deeply held anticipation in the unknown that he doesn't know if they feel the way he does.

... Him quietly begging that his heart likely couldn't take the idea of them not actually loving him any deeper.

Wrapped up with his trauma and years of not knowing what true love is like...

Wonderfully done Anon, thank you for sharing this with us.

~ Dari

[worstloki]

Loki was sitting on a bed, staring with with almost lifeless eyes at the bed sheets he held fisted tight in his hands. Any second now...

As if summoned by Loki's thoughts, a figure popped into existence, all glowing blue skin and blue eyes dark as he walked over to Loki's still form.

Tess said nothing even as he sat down and wrapped his arms around Loki who didn't resist the comforting gesture, turning into Space's side.

"How are you feeling?" Tess asked finally once Loki was settled comfortably.

Loki tried to figure that out. He had been for over a year or so now. He wasn't sure entirely how much time had passed. If he was honest, he'd say he felt nothing. Empty and numb.

He didn't say that, only shrugged. It wasn't like he could lie. If he did, Tess would find out the truth from Soul who only needed to touch Loki's skin to find out what he was feeling and had done so before even when Loki had insisted on her to stop.

'For your own safety,' was all she said before violating his thoughts and feelings.

"Are you unhappy?" Tess asked with a slight frown, interrupting Loki's thoughts. "Is something wrong?"

'Yes,' Loki thought as he squeezed his eyes shut tight and shook his head.

Tess wasn't convinced. He never was. "If there is something you need or want, you can always ask us. We'll do whatever you need to be happy. You know we will."

Loki did know. That's what frightened him. He was scared to speak a word around them all anymore for the exact reason that they'd do anything neccessary for his own wellbeing.

They had killed Thanos after everything the Mad Titan had put Loki through to force him to attack New York to get Tess from those Midgardian's.

Power had been the one to bring back Thanos' decapitated head to Loki with the assurances that the Titan had suffered greatly before he died. Loki had both felt relieved and sick as he stared at Thanos' mutilated head, barely recognizable that if he hadn't been told it was Thanos he would never have guessed so.

Loki had been foolish to think it was a one time thing. He told himself they were all simply protective of him was all.

And Loki hadn't been lying. They all were protective of him. Very much so.

It was when Loki had let slip Odin's neglect and the hurt Loki had felt for never feeling good enough that he found at how much power and damage his words could cause if he wasn't careful. Loki had nearly been sick when Reality came to him, tossing a single blue eyeball in his hand as he explained what they'd done to the old king before ripping the one good eyeball from his eye socket and shortly after, killing him.

Loki learned to shut his mouth around them all, afraid of what they'd do to anyone else Loki spoke of that had hurt him. Yes, he felt some satisfaction that they were no longer able to hurt him but he couldn't enjoy it when he knew what they had gone through before they died. He never asked for anyone to die.

But then Loki started getting hurt. When he fought in battle against enemies or simply because he hadn't been paying enough attention to what he was doing.

They didn't like it at all. They all hated seeing Loki hurt and after Time mentioning seeing a time where Loki had died, they got even more paranoid. So they took him away from it all to somewhere they promised he'd be completely safe.

Loki had been furious at first. They couldn't just take him away from his life! But they had and they only gave Loki sad smiles when he screamed at them about betrayal.

Loki had tried to hurt himself, just to show they couldn't always protect him but found it impossible. He threw his fists at the wall but there was in invisible barrier between him and the wall that made it impossible to connect his fist. He tried scratching at his arms but the same thing happened. He tried to 'accidentally' trip but he never hit the floor, simply floating until he lightly touched the floor.

He couldn't injure himself.

So he screamed and he raged and he demanded to be let out of the room they'd stuck him in but nothing. They visited all the time but they never let him out again.

His anger had turned to a deep depression where he'd sit on his bed or on the floor and stare at the door across the room that never opened. A cruel joke to him, having a door that he couldn't open.

His magic was practically useless wherever he was. He'd tried to use it, even against his lovers who never got angry when something was thrown at them but seemed even more sad each time it happened. He couldn't use his magic to leave.

He was trapped.

Eventually, Loki accepted that he couldn't escape. Not by himself at least. He calmed down at any rate which had pleased the stones though Loki felt deadened inside.

The depression had gotten even worse after they killed his brother. Loki hadn't realized what he'd said until it was too late. It had been a simple mention of Thor always getting the attention and being Thor's shadow.

Loki hadn't been gifted with any body part of Thor's but the stones spoke about it to him, what they'd done before they killed him. Loki had been in horror and shock, unable to process that Thor was dead. He had been sick nearly over a month after that, walking up screaming from nightmares and crying whenever the stones tried to make him feel better. How could he ever feel better?

He'd gotten his brother killed.

After that, Loki had gone numb.

Tess visited the most. Loki had no idea where they went when they weren't with him but he found himself lonely when they weren't there. He normally wasn't left alone for long though. Despite everything, he still loved them. That's what he hated most about his situation. He shouldn't love them anymore but he did.

He did.

"Can I..." Loki swallowed hard, letting out a shaky breath. "Can I come out now? I'll...I'll be careful, I promise—"

Tess was already shaking his head, tightening his hold on Loki. "It's too dangerous. You could be hurt."

"Please, I'll be careful. I swear," Loki pleaded, becoming desperate every day he was trapped. He knew asking would do no good. Tess would never relent but he still got his hopes up even if it was for them to be crushed again.

"Hush, you're speaking nonsense. You're safe here," Tess shushed him.

Loki felt frustrated tears gather in his eyes. "But—"

"I said no," Tess said with a frown. "I let you have anything you want but you know the rules. You must stay here, where you're safe."

Loki went to speak again before another figure appeared right on the bed in front of them.

Loki shook his head, glancing away from Mind who looked at Tess. "Is everything okay? Why is he crying?"

Tess frowned deeply. "He wants to go outside again. It'll pass."

"Oh," Mind said before shaking her head as she drew closer. "That's too dangerous."

Loki wanted to scream but he only shook in Tess' hold as Mind reached for him, cupping his face between her hands.

"P-please, let me go," Loki whispered, tears slipping down his cheeks. "Please, d-don't—"

Mind hushed him as she kissed him softly, Loki making a weak noise of protest but could do nothing with Tess' arms crossed over his own.

Loki didn't see how Mind's hand pulsed a soft golden yellow, a trail of her power seemingly sinking into Loki's skin but he felt it as a sense of calmness and love for the people protecting him sink into his mind, making him go lax and pliant in Tess' arms.

"We love you," Tess murmured into his ear as Mind drew away and Loki took a shuddering breath.

"I...I love you all too," Loki said finally. Mind and Tess smiled at one another as Loki sighed and closed his eyes, relaxing fully into Tess' embrace.

He was safe. He had all of them to take care of him. He couldn't be hurt anymore.

Why would he ever want to go back outside?

🖤💚💛

I'm sorry if there's any spelling mistakes. I didn't check it over since I wrote it just now but here's some dark Infinoki for you 🖤

anon i love and will kill for you

(Part 2)

[khaleesiofalicante]

LIGHTWOOD BANES WEEK - MAGNUS & RAFAEL

“Ready?”

Magnus looked up from the vanity table and put down his eyeliner.

“Like my new shoes?” his son grinned as he tapped the Gucci sneakers like Dorothy and her heels.

Magnus grinned in approval.

“Let’s go!” Rafe came closer and started jumping up and down as he pulled on Magnus’ arm. “Portal! Portal! Portal!”

Magnus gave him a smile. “How about we walk to the institute today, my coconut?”

Rafael stopped jumping abruptly.

“I’m not a coconut,” he pointed out sourly.

“Alright, I’ll think of another fiber rich fruit,” Magnus chuckled. “But let’s walk today, yes? The weather seems brilliant.”

Rafael looked out of the window and then back at Magnus, arching his dark eyebrows as if to say, ‘since when did you care about the weather?’.

“So, no portal?” Rafael asked.

“Not today,” Magnus replied.

Rafael looked down at his new shoes. “Okay.”

Magnus hated disappointing his son. Rafael loved magic – sometimes even more so than Max. This meant he enjoyed portals too.

Magnus would split the sky open for his son. Making a measly portal was no big deal.

He could have just done it simply. But today was not that day.

“Go pick up your bow,” Magnus urged him gently.

Rafael pouted and ran away without another word.

Magnus put on his jewelry and picked up his tote bag. He was hoping to drop Rafael off at the institute to train with the other children – something Magnus didn’t really approve of since Rafael was just past twelve.  

He didn’t need to learn how to fight. He was a child.

Rafael was his baby.

But Rafael was also a shadowhunter – one of the angel’s chosen.

Magnus sighed inwardly – since it was a fact, he had to make peace with – and walked towards the living room.

“Let’s go, strawberry!”

But Rafael was not near the door where he usually stood when Magnus made the portal for them. Magnus walked towards Rafael’s bedroom to find his son on the floor.

“I sprained my leg,” Rafael said apologetically. “We’ll have to take a portal.”

Magnus gave him an amused glance.

“Well, if you are hurt then you shouldn’t be training,” Magnus pointed out.

“But we are throwing spears today,” Rafael protested. “I want to practice!”

“Alright then, use an iratze,” Magnus said. “It should heal quickly. Then we can walk merrily to the institute where they teach little children how to throw spears.”

“Uh, I can’t,” Rafael said now. “I lost my stele.”

He was a horrible liar. Much like Alec.

Max on the other hand…Magnus would have to keep an eye on that one.

“Rafael,” Magnus said warningly.

“I swear on Uncle Jace,” Rafael said, and Magnus bit his lip to keep himself from laughing. “I lost my stele.”

Magnus crossed his arms.

“I can ask Aunt Clary to heal it when I get to the institute,” Rafael pointed out. “Let’s go. Make the portal.”

Well, two can play at that game.

Magnus flicked his wrist, and a wave of blue smoke went through Rafael’s ankle. It wasn’t real magic of course. Just smoke.

“There, I fixed your ankle,” Magnus said. “Now, let’s go.”

Rafael stood up indignantly. “But what about my new shoes! I don’t want them to get all muddy.”

“It hasn’t rain in over a month!” Magnus put his arms up in frustration. “We are walking.”

“Fine, then I’m not going,” Rafael kicked off his shoes and flopped back on his bed and covered his face with a pillow.

Rafael was a quiet and timid child. But he could really be dramatic when he wanted to. Magnus had no idea where he got this from. Probably some shadowhunter at the institute.

“Rafael,” he called gently. “Why do you not want to walk to the institute?”

Magnus had noticed this initially over a month ago.

Rafael had insisted that he could the subway on his own. The institute wasn’t far away. He had wanted to commute on his own.

Magnus wasn’t really thrilled by this sudden show of bravado.

Firstly, he couldn’t come to terms with the fact that his baby was growing up.

Secondly, he might have excused the demon butt kicking. But he wasn’t going to allow his son to go on the New York subway alone.

But then Alec had interfered and of course as always had won the argument with “reason” and “logic”.

So, Rafael started to take the subway and travel to the institute by himself.

Just two days a week.

On the other days, he went with Alec or Magnus.

Rafael had only been out on his own for a couple of weeks before he had started to make all sorts of excuses for not wanting to go alone.

He would ask Alec to come to the institute with him. And of course, the insistence for portals had started.

Magnus knew Rafael loved portal travel. But he wasn’t spoilt or anything. Actually, the boy enjoyed walking, mostly because he got to stop and pet a stranger’s dog.

So, Magnus found it a little odd that Rafael’s insistence on walking alone had disappeared just like that.

He knew there was more to the story and he was going to find out.

He sat down next to Rafael gingerly and knocked on the pillow.

“Knock knock,” he said.

“Nobody’s home,” Rafael said in a muffled voice, still stubbornly clutching the pillow over his face.

“Come on. Play along,” Magnus urged and taped on the pillow again. “Knock knock!”

Rafael sighed dramatically. “Who’s there?”

“Wire.”

“Wire who?”

“Wire you lying to me?”

Rafael removed the pillow off his face.

“You’re not as clever as you think you are,” Rafael pointed out.

“Lies!” Magnus said in an offended tone. “You said your father is the smartest person you know.”

“Well, I have two fathers so…”

Magnus gasped offensively.

Rafael’s mouth twitched, just a little. Anyone who didn’t know him would have missed it.

But Magnus knew him. He knew him better than anyone.

“Wounded prides and treacherous betrayals aside,” Magnus gently removed the pillow and threw it away before Rafael can hide again. “Do you want to talk about what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Rafael said, lying back slowly.

“Then why do you not want to walk alone?”

“Just cause,” Rafael shrugged.

“Did…Did something happen?” Magnus asked tentatively. “In the subway?”

“Nothing serious,” Rafael said.

Magnus’ heart, which was always steady, started beating faster.

“I’d still like to know if that’s okay with you,” Magnus said gently, not wanting to push the boy.

Rafael was quiet.

“Rafael,” Magnus said softly. “When we found you, I promised that I will always protect you. I need to live up to that promise. Please tell me what happened.”

Rafael sat up on the bed and crossed his legs. “There were some boys in the subway.”

Magnus nodded, gently urging him to go on.

“I didn’t glamour myself cause you know I don’t like to,” Rafael pointed out.

Magnus did know that. Magnus never actually glamored himself either – not unless it was absolutely necessary. Magnus didn’t want to hide because there was nothing to be ashamed of.

Rafael didn’t either.

Rafael took after him in so many ways - including his love for fashion. But this was one of those ways that made Magnus’ heart swell with pride.

“Anyway, I was careful,” Rafael continued. “I made sure my bow was hidden and nothing was visible. But then these boys…They made fun of me.”

“Because of your runes?” Magnus asked.

“Because of what was underneath the runes.”

Magnus muttered a curse underneath his breath – thankfully he spoke many languages Rafe didn’t understand.

He knew that he was supposed to act rational. To be calm and assess the situation. He was the high warlock of Brooklyn and he has handled worse situations.

But he wasn’t the high warlock right now. He was just Rafael’s father.

Anger boiled through his veins and Magnus felt his magic surge.

“Who are these boys?” Magnus demanded. “Where did you see them?”

Rafael looked at him then, his brown eyes sad. “Does it really make a difference, Bapa?”

And Magnus’ heart broke.

No. It didn’t. It didn’t make a difference.

“They were saying something about a wall and how I should go back to where I’m from,” Rafael said, his voice low. “I put my earphones on after that.”

“Was this a one-time thing?” Magnus asked.

“In the institute, nobody ever said anything about being me a Latino. Or about the others. They don’t really care I think. And when we are out…Well, I’m always with you and dad so I never really noticed. But the moment I was alone…They never say anything when I'm with you or dad. That’s why I kept asking you to come with me. Or take a portal.”

“We can come with you for as long as you want,” Magnus promised.  

“But you shouldn't have to. Not for this,” Rafael sounded angry. “I don’t think it was a one time thing, Bapa. I just think I never noticed. And now that I have…I don’t think I will ever stop noticing.”

Magnus had put a thousand charms – and more – on Rafael’s bow. He had put spell after spell on the sapphire necklace his son wore. He had taken every precaution he could think to protect his son from any and every demon that lurked in the shadows.

But Magnus hadn’t thought about the demons that lurked during daylight. Demons that didn’t attack the body – but the ones that clawed at your heart.

Magnus couldn’t protect Rafael from these creatures every day. But he could protect him right now. He led out his hands until Rafael leaned his head on Magnus’ shoulder.

“It’s not fair,” Rafael said. “I can’t help how I look.”

“I know, my darling,” Magnus caressed his hair gently. “I know.”

“Have people always been this awful?” Rafael asked.

Magnus, who had lived through centuries of persecution and discrimination, could have simply lied. He could lie to make his son feel better.

But he knew the lies wouldn’t prepare him for the world that was waiting out there.

“Do you remember, Bapa?” Rafael looked up and asked now. “Do you remember when Max was 7 and he wanted to look like the rest of us? He wanted to not be blue for one day?”

Magnus did. Alec had talk to Max that day, that a little blue never hurt anybody. It hadn’t convinced Max of course. But the party with a dozen multi cultured warlocks had kind of helped.

“I think Max has it better,” Rafael said now. “I wish I was blue or yellow or green.”

“You are what you are,” Magnus said. “And what you are is a beautiful boy.”

Rafael just mumbled something.

“Rafe,” Magnus took his hand. “Max is a downworlder. He will have his fair share of ass…hats to deal with.”

“Not on my watch,” Raphael said menacingly.

Magnus smiled. “You could consider glamouring yourself. You don’t have to do everything I do.”

“Not everything, no,” Rafe agreed. “But this…I can’t not do this. I want to be like you. Proud. Confident. But it’s…I don’t know it’s hard when they keep staring at me like that. Like I don’t belong here.”

“People will always stare,” Magnus said gently and dangled the bagles in his hand. “So might as well give them something to stare at, huh?”

Rafael gave him a weak smile. Magnus sighed.

“Alright then,” Magnus said. “I will make you a portal. Today. Every day. Whenever you want. You don’t have to take the subway.”

“I don’t want to take the portal,” Rafael said. “I don’t want to bother you.”

“Darling, you do know your father is the high warlock of Brooklyn, right?” Magnus chuckled. “It’s no bother.”

“I don’t want to take the portal,” Rafael simply repeated. “I like taking the subway.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. It kinda smells sometimes and then there are people who sing weird butt songs, but I like it,” Rafael said. “There is this lady. An abuela called Maria. I see her sometimes with her dog Globo.”

“Globo?” Magnus chuckled.

“He is so sweet, and she lets me pet him. I sometimes even buy treats for him with my allowance, ” Rafael confessed. “I like seeing Abuela Maria. I love seeing Globo. I don’t wanna miss that.”

“That’s fair enough,” Magnus nodded.

“Abuela Maria…She came to New York when she was 12. She is so old now. She has been here for year. And those boys…They sometimes make jokes about her too. She doesn’t speak much English but I think she understands. She doesn’t have earphones like I do though. So, she has to listen to everything they say.”

Magnus didn’t say anything. Just quietly offered his hand to Rafael.

His son took it gently and examined it carefully. Rafael had always loved the way Magnus painted his nails. Magnus had often wondered if Rafael would want to paint his own when he grew up.

But now…Now Magnus worried Rafael might never paint his nails even if he wanted to.

The world could sometimes be a cruel place. Magnus has always believed that the world should always have more color – and some glitter too.

But some people preferred to keep things black and white.

It was hard navigating a world like this. Magnus looked at his son.

Rafael looked sad. He looked angry. Worried. Frustrated.

And scared.

Magnus had felt all those things long ago too. But he had found his way through.

He had found his way through the maze and reminded himself who he was and he shouldn’t promise himself for anyone.

It had taken him a long time but he had got there eventually.

But the thing was…Rafael didn’t have that kind of time.

He was a shadowhunter. A mortal.

Magnus thought about Abuela Maria – and all the men and women she must have met during her life who must have made her feel different – when she was just another person in New York with a weirdly named dog.

Magnus didn’t want Rafael to spend his years living in shame and worry.

No. That is not the world Alec and Magnus had promised each other to build for their children and all the rest.

“Bapak,” Rafael said softly. “Is it always going to be like this?”

“It won’t be. I’d like to think so,” Magnus said quietly. “I’ve lived a long time, Rafe. There have been shadowhunters who have thrown away plates cause I touched them.”

“They what?” Rafael’s voice rose, his own pain immediately forgotten.

“The point is…We can’t change people,” Magnus said carefully. “But we can change systems. We can break old ones. We can build new ones. I’ve been hunted by shadowhunters. But I’ve also fought alongside shadowhunters. Fell in love with one. I’ve seen them change the law. I’ve seen them fight for my people. So, no. It’s not always going to be like this. It won’t happen overnight and it’s going to take a lot of effort and pain. But it won’t always be like this. I promise you that.”

“Well, I won’t be around to see it,” Rafael muttered.

“Yeah but your kids might,” Magnus winked.

“Gross,” Rafe made a face.

Magnus pulled him closer and kissed him on the top of his head.

“Do you think it would have been different?” Rafael asked, his face hidden in the crook of Magnus’ neck. “If I was in Buenos Aires?”

Magnus thought about it for a moment. Rafael living far away from him. The possibility pained him.

He had already lost one Raphael. He wasn’t ready to lose another.

Not to anyone. Certainly not to some ignorant bigots who lacked empathy and respect. 

“Possibly,” Magnus said with caution. “But it’s like you said. It doesn’t matter where you are. When you are different, people always make sure to point out. While no one in Buenos Aires might bully you for being a Latino, they might bully you for other things.”

“But why?” the child asked, still oblivious to the way the world worked.

Magnus wished he could be that way forever.

But no.

They all had to grow up eventually.

“Because of power,” Magnus explained. “Power is never distributed equally. So, when some people have more power than others, they abuse that power.”

“Like shadowhunters and downworlders,” Rafael bit his lip.

Magnus wasn’t particularly think of that example.

“Yes,” Magnus nodded. “Exactly like that. Sometimes shadowhunters abuse the power they have. Downworlders can do that too.”

“I don’t want power,” Rafael said.

“Sometimes we have power whether we want it or not,” Magnus pointed out.

“What do I do with it?” Rafael asked.

“Well, you try not to hurt other people with it,” Magnus said. “You try not to hurt yourself with it.”

“I’ll try,” Rafael promised. “What about…What about the bullies?”

“Well,” Magnus said. “What do you wanna do about it?”

“I don’t want to hide,” Rafael said, determination settling on his shoulders. “This is my country too.”

“Yes, it is,” Magnus kissed him on the head again.

“What do I do then?” Rafael asked.

“You do what you were born to do,” Magnus smiled. “You fight.”

“Like with my bow and arrow?” Rafael giggled.

“We’ll save that for the other demons,” Magnus winked. “But you fight in whatever way you can. This kind of thing…There is no one way to fight racism – or any kind of discrimination. We all fight it differently.”

“Like dad,” Rafael’s eyes gleamed. “He changed the laws!”

“Exactly,” Magnus beamed back. “You don’t have to change laws. Not unless you want to. No fight is less important than the other.”

“I want to fight for people who can’t fight for themselves,” Rafael said. “Like Abuela Maria – and Globo. I can maybe buy her noise cancelling earphones. I can fight for her.”

Magnus’ eyes almost watered at that. He was so much Alec – in so many ways. When he looked at Rafael now, Magnus realized he is never going to lose Alec. Not really.

“Then fight, my darling,” Magnus gave one last kiss on the ahead. “Fight like your dad.”

“And like my Bapak,” Rafe smiled and booped Magnus on the nose.

“He is the smartest person you know, right?” Magnus winked.

“Eh,” Rafael shrugged and Magnus feigned offense.

“But he is the bravest person I know,” Rafael pointed out shyly, but with enough pride to warm Magnus’ heart.

Magnus jumped off the bed and led out his hands. “All this talk about our wonderful public transportation system has me suddenly missing the subway. I think I should go for a ride.”

Rafael picked up his bow and reached out to hold Magnus’ hand. “Let’s go together.”

[lilxxbrainrot]

Sooo i was at work when this idea randomly popped up in my mind, soooo here it is

Hanahaki Disease au

This is for the '03 version but totally ignores de CoS movie.

Ed is in Germany. Al is in Amestris.

They are in love with each other, so that's why they get de disease.

The flowers for Ed are kinda honey-colored (Al's hair, duh) while Al's flowers are yellow, more like a golden-ish color.

We know this brothers have a strong moral compass, so that's one of the struggles: the fact that they are in love with their own brother terrifies them so there's always this internal battle. "He is my BROTHER. How could I? How could I take this affection and twist it into something so sick and disgusting? I am disgusting. Uf he was here he wouldn't even be able to look me in the face." Somthing like that, idk.

This is pretty obvios but just the fact that u know there's a WHOLE UNIVERSE separating them is already sad; but they are also in love and unable to be together?? And they are both dying?? Ohmy, bye. I'm gonna go cry brb.

Alfons is with Ed and he's doing what he can to help Ed and support him. "Edward, who is it? Are they alive? We should find them, if this keeps going you are going to die!"

Ed (maybe unconsciously, maybe not c:) kinda uses Alfons. Like, he tries to project his feelings for Al on Alfons. This doesn't work. The flowers keep feeling his lungs, his feelings for his brother keep growing, and he just can't make himself feel that way towards Alfons.

Also, he's lying to Alfons by making him think that, since he (Alfons) was the person Ed was in love with, and they now have a relationship, Ed is free of the disease.

Alfons eventually finds out. He comes into Ed when he's having a cough attack on sees the flowers. Ed is afraid and feels guilty af bc now Alfons knows he lied and he's not really in love with him.

Alfons, pure baby boy, just (sadly) smiles at him and is like "it's okay Edward. I'm nit the persone you're in love with, right? Well, it's kinda silly to ask that since I know the answer, but... yeah, I already knew it. I always noticed the way you tensed up and went silence every time I told you I love you. Yo know? You always hace this weird, sad expression on your face. When you look at me, it's like you're seeing through me. And I don't mean that like you-see-the-inner-me kinda thing; you literally just see past through me, to a far away place that probably only you can see, but you never really look at me. Do I look like some from your world? Do I look like the person you truly love?"

Mw Al is ALONE. Like, first, he doesn't really trust the people who surround him bc he can't remember any of them, so technically, he doesn't know them. And he just doesn't want anyone to know just how sick he really is. How could he tell anyone he is in love with his brother? He rather deal with this alone.

Somehow, he manages to keep his disease to himself; no one finds out about it.

The disease advances to a critical stage. Alfons has to see how Ed becomes so fragile he has to be always in bed.

Al is also in a critical stage and everyone is so frustrated and confused bc how did none of them noticed he was so damn sick??

In Ed's case, medicine in Germany is not so advanced so getting the flowers removed in surgery is not even an option.

Mw in Amestris, everyone insists to Al he should get the surgery done. Finally he has an outburtst in which he reveals who the person is. "I miss him so much and you never talk to me about him! All I have left of my brother are my feelings for him, and you all want me to throw them away?!" Everyone is shocked but they can't even show their disgust/rejection bc they are just too focused on the fact thar the younger Elric is going to die.

Finally, both brothers die.

Ed dies with Alfons at his side, grabbing his hand and asking him to not leave. "Just wait a little more Edward. I promise I will build a rocket and then you will go back home with your brother. That's why you wanted to build it, right? Just please stay, please don't die on me!"

Al dies practically alone; trying so damn hard to remember something about those 4 years he spent travelling with Edward. He dies without those memories.

I won't apologize for this.

Tho, I do apologize for my english. It's not my native language so I'm sorry about any mistakes.

[syubub]

How to Comfort Them

Woop woop! A disclaimer: this is for entertainment purposes only and not to be taken as fact! This is my interpretation of the cards!

Hell yeah. How do they receive comfort best when they need it? I took this specifically as them having a shitty day or week or something along those lines

Seokjin

Lol

Let him wallow

You comfort Seokjin by affirming his right to feel his feelings and let him deal with it on his own time

He can be a bit dramatic but its short lived

Why does this feel like a roast?

Its not I promise

Seokjin just needs to feel and let it go. He doesn't hold on the things for long but trying to force him to talk anything out is a big no thanks

I think being alone really comforts him most but if he's close to someone I think he'd be down to be alone together

He feels comfort by people staying by his side. He might be the type to have a really shitty day and just wants to sit on the couch and watch TV and not talk about it

When he does want to talk about it though, its best to give him honest advice even if it brutally honest

Jinnie has no time for bullshit and he doesn't want sugar coated shit. If he wants an opinion he'll ask for it and be very aware of what he's asking for.

Another way to comfort Jin is possibly distraction. Again its not an always answer but fun nonsense can help him shake off the blues for sure!

Maybe give him a blanket and and some jellies

I also think he'd really not like anyone seeing him cry?

I think if you stumbled upon a crying Jin that needs comfort the best thing you could do is ask if he needs anything and let him know that you're there?

Also maybe if this is like sad sad sad and he's crying in the bathroom or something it might be helpful to sit on the other side of the door and talk to him if he wants to? and get him water?

Idk I think jin can be pretty guarded especially like this so this would probably never happen

Its more likely that he'll flop down on his bed or couch and just hang out

Yoongi

Oki yoobi

Hold his fucking hand

I'm kidding (kinda)

For yoongi, I think he's similar to Jin in that he doesn't want to be told that everything is sunshine and rainbows and he also doesn't want to be treated like a child

For yoobi I think that he'd feel comforted by talking about what/why he feels like shit

Its like he wants to know that he isn't alone but he also doesn't like to seek out comfort bc he doesn't think he's worth it

He'd probably feel a lot of comfort laying in a dark room with calming repetitive sounds

Smack a pair of noise canceling headphones on him with nothing playing

I think that a great way to comfort yoongi if he was having a bad day is by softly showing support and letting him know that he's being thought of?

Things like letters and stuff are really good

I also think distracting him from bad habits that he used to comfort himself is a v good idea

You see him nomming down his nails to tiny nubs? Offer him something to hold (or slap his hand if you're feeling sassy)

But really though comfort for yoongi is something he'd want to be subtle and ever-present so he can access it when its needed most and he'd definitely want to seek out on his own.

I was thinking too, like if he had a panic attack or anxiety attack DO NOT TOUCH HIM I feel strongly about this. Let him seek out physical comfort and 1,000% ask if he wants to be touched

He just seems skittish in this way and I think that he'd respond a lot better if he gets to seek physical comfort out on his own

You hear that people that will meet Yoongi?

BUT if yoongi was really really close with his s.o I could see him searching and asking for cuddles. Two kinds. Smol curled up yoongi would want to be curled around (kinda like nigiri) if things are pretty bad and serious or him laying in between his s.os legs with his head on their stomach specifically so he can have his hair played with.

Hoseok

Show up for him

Remind him that he is loved and sweet and perfect

Definitely ignite his passions again

Take him dancing

Watch a movie that reminds him of a good memory

You'll have to kinda sus out what exactly is bothering him though

Maybe buy him something sweet like a teddy bear or dinner or take him somewhere

Just don't let him wallow. He needs time to process and stuff but getting him up and out of his funk is great!

Take him to an arcade or even just out for a long drive

I think hobi is the type to need stimulation in a thoughtful way so you'd have to assess the situation and see what's appropriate

Bc hobi might also just want to chill

I think he'd also be really big on physical comfort

Hugs

Cuddles

Sharing a bed

Massage even

Yes I'm gonna say it

(18+) he'd enjoy a nice frick frack or a boot knocking if you will

Maybe run him a nice bath and wine and dine him tbh

Namjoon

Comfort joonie by letting him know that he doesn't have to know everything or have a solution for it

I think kinda taking over his role of inspiring speech giver would help him bc he has so much wisdom and advice but can also have a blind spot when it comes to himself

Let him not be logical

Let him impulse buy 43 new plants all named after the kind of plant they are

I think a nice bear hug and some wise words will be comforting to him

Also the words "you're doing a great job, you got this" and "It's okay to feel this way. Let yourself feel what you feel"

Home boi wouldn't mind if, say, he had a shitty day and you bought him an orchid and named it Orca

Really though I think a gentle reminder that he is human and some basic grounding would really help.

I think too with a significant other I could 100% see him finding immense comfort in feeling the other persons heartbeat? Like if he was in bad shape and his s.o needed to calm him down they could just grab his hand and put it over their heart? Cute shit.

I think rubbing comforting circles on his back when in the proper situation.

Also forehead-pressing?

Jimin

Chim chim gets comfort by love in every form

By him a gift

Give him words of affirmation

Cuddles

Make him food so he doesn't have to

Just be there for him

Write him letters

Really though. Affection of any kind is often welcomed from him

He'd also feel especially comforted if he didn't have to do anything? Like if you could take away responsibility from him for a little that would be awesome

Jimin is a very love/affection forward guy and I think that he'd really really really enjoy a nice top of the head smooch

Sometimes he'd just want to be hugged while he cries

Or sometimes he needs genuine advice and help working through what bothers him

Jimin is a mixed bag and I think its situational but he'd definitely be down for a good ole hug

Maybe too if you suggest things to him. Maybe advice or maybe ways to cheer him up!

Taehyung

This is also very much how Tae comforts army

Cheer him on

Let him know that you love him and that even if things are shit that you're there for him

He'd respond very well to comforting actions and words

I think he needs to cry and feel and do what he does but he feels most comforted when he's reminded that he means something to someone

Positivity and passion go a long way for comforting him

I think if you can also remind him of something that he's done for you, something positive that he's done in you're life that might help him feel a little better

If you can relate to him without making it about you

I think also recognizing his good qualities when he can't

Definitely put him in the sunshine

Give him a nice bevy and sit him in the sunshine

Playing a card game or a board game? Idk why

take him to get waffles at 2am or something new and out of the ordinary

Mostly though snuggles and hugs do the trick.

He's a very feely human and I think having something solid is helpful

ESPECIALLY for his s.o

if Taes future/current s.o is reading... you probably get held a lot. For a long time. Homie is like a little cephalopod

I think he'd also enjoy a nice comfort nap

Jungkook

Oki oki oki

Love him

But not too much

When he's down he tends to have clouded vision

Its like he can't see infront of him and can't see anything that he's done and he feels like he's never accomplished anything ever

He feels loss of control

That's no good

A good way to help that is to help him find clarity

Help him to see the light at the end of the tunnel

He also probably has nighmares/can't sleep when things get really bad so either something like buying him a new sleepy tea or being there for him when he can't sleep

Help sooth his anxiety

He needs that

I definitely think he gets frustrated with himself easily and if you can help him not take it out on himself or turn it inwards then that's really good

He'd benefit from a movie night and a fort

He'd probably be the type to benefit from a talk about what's bothering him but only sitting side by side so you aren't looking into his eyes

Maybe even like on the swings at a park or something

I just think opening up for him is hard so meeting him where he's comfortable is good

That could be texting back and forth even if you're in the same room or on the swings or over street food

I think he'd like it if he had a weighted blanket

Quiet comfort is good for him so he has something grounding him

Maybe if things are not great take him to a rage room or to go kick boxing.

Some semi productive way to channel his energy

Drive him out of the city to go scream into the æther

Idk but being with him while giving him space is good

I think with a s.o he'd maybe seek physical comfort but idk

Maybe

[allegra-writes]

“Small talk”

Peter Parker x Vigilante!Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut

"Like wolves, we've run wild, let passion get too much, let ourselves get burned by the fire"

Small Talk - Niall Horan

Peter knows it's a bad idea, you are nothing but trouble. But just because he has spidey sense, doesn't mean he has common sense... 🔥

MY MASTERLIST

"Bad idea kid" Tony's voice reached his ears from somewhere at his left, but not even then did he broke eye contact with you. He couldn't. He was paralized, mesmerized, drawn like a moth to a flame. You had been looking at him across the ballroom all night, a vision in your little white number, like an angel with lightning in her eyes… He wanted you, the realization hitting him like a brick.

A hand was waved in front of his face,

"Peter, are you even listening to me?"

He made a non committal hum.

Tony sighed, 

"Look, I know you've been through a lot lately. I mean, Michelle practically left you on the altar-"

"Do not" He finally turned to his mentor, tone as cold as his gaze, "say her name. Ever." 

"Ok, kid, I won't" Tony raised his hands in surrender, "All I'm saying is, I know everything sucks right now, and you might be feeling a little... reckless and self destructive. And normally I would say go for it, a little rebound sex never killed anyone but in that case" he motioned in your direction with his head, "in that case it just might" 

"What do you mean?" You were dancing now, and Tony was loosing Peter's attention fast,

"They call her Cut-Throat" he said, straight to the point, "and she's with those wackjobs from Hell's Kitchen. EDITH identified her right away. Trust me on this one, kid. She's got the wrong kind of crazy" 

Yes, Peter could feel that, his spidey sense had been going haywire all night. But he liked it. He liked the dress you were wearing, and he liked the way you talked, and he liked the way you were dancing. He liked you, and he hadn't felt that way about anyone in a while.

He hadn't felt that way about anything actually, ever since MJ… 

But now? Now he wanted to run wild, wanted to misbehave at least once in his responsibility filled existence. He wanted to know what it was like to let the passion get the best of him. 

He wanted to play with fire, and get burned. 

"I'm not a kid anymore, Tony" He cut his mentor off, a little harshly "I have a PhD, I think I'm old enough to know what I'm doing" 

"One would think so, and yet…" Tony muttered, grumpily, watching his protegee disappear in the ocean of people on the dance floor. 

Peter, on the other hand, was trying not to freak out. Despite his big talk, he was half expecting Tony to follow him, to stop him, but it was too late now: You had seen him making his way to you and now you were walking to him, still staring at him like he was something to eat. And he couldn't run, couldn't hide, not when he wanted so badly to be devoured. Looking at your wolfish smile, he couldn't help but wonder if that's what rabbits felt, right before being gobbled up.

"Hello"

"Hi"

"Want to get out of here?"

Just like that, no small talk. Before he even knew it, the elevator doors were closing behind him and you were on him, smashing your lips against his, pushing him back against the wall, setting his skin on fire everywhere it met yours. And god help him, but the burn was better, so much better than the raw, biting cold he had felt ever since MJ had left him on his knees in the dark. Helpless, with nothing but that unforgiving, bone freezing emptiness.

He fisted his hands on the silk of your dress, bringing you closer, impossibly closer, holding onto your heat as his mouth left yours to suck a bruise on your neck. The helpless little noise that left your throat made his head swim, lips traveling south in their quest to coax more of those pretty noises out of you. 

"Fuck!" You cursed as his mouth closed around your nipple over the flimsy fabric. 

Peter smiled. He had been wanting to do that all night, his super sight letting him see everything through the sheer fabric of your dress when the light hitted you just right. Your fingers tangled in his soft curls, trying to keep his head where you wanted it, but he was strong, almost unnaturally so. In an instant you were the one against the steel wall, caged between it and his hard body. 

One hand at the back of your knee, and soon he was lifting your leg, wrapping it around his hips, opening you up to him, as he grinded his pelvis against yours, making you moan, the sound resonating in the tiny elevator.

"Bet I can make you come just like this" He breathed out, hot against your ear, "rubbing my cock against your pussy through our clothes"

"Fuck yes!" 

"You want that, don't you angel?" Peter bit back a moan of his own, still rolling his hips, "Want to be a good girl and come for me…"

"Not really a good girl" 

You pushed back against the wall, angling your hips, rocking them faster, chasing your peak. Peter's eyes rolled back inside his head, hands flying to your hip bones, helping you move. 

"But you're still gonna come for me, aren't you?"

There it was again, the sharp smile, all teeth and danger,

"Make me"

He attacked your lips again, tongue slipping inside your mouth as his hand slipped underneath your skirt. He found his goal, fingers teasing you over your panties,

"So wet for me already, angel?" He marveled, and you gulped for air. God, he knew how to kiss. You couldn't wait to see what else that talented tongue of his could do. 

"You made me wait too long…" You pouted, watching in satisfaction as his eyes zeroed on your lips and his eyes turned even darker. He retaliated by tugging your thong to the side, sliding two fingers inside your wet, velvety heat. Your pretty lips opened in a perfect little O, and he had the dirtiest of visions, of you on your knees, taking his length into that gorgeous, delicious mouth of yours. He licked into your open mouth, filthily. 

"It's ok, angel, I got you now" 

He could feel it coming, you muscles tensing, your fingers digging into his shoulders, wetness bathing his hand… 

But the elevator came to a halt, and a ding announced you had arrived to your floor. He took his fingers out of you, licking them clean one by one, chuckling when you cried out your frustration. 

"Shut up" You snickered, grabbing him by his tie, dragging him like a puppy on a leash all the way to your room.

Peter plastered himself to your back as soon as you both reached your door, making the task of unlocking it rather difficult, with him nibbling on the back of your neck, the curve of your shoulders, lowering the straps of your dress… 

You felt his impressive hardness against your lower back, and you couldn't hold back the wanton whimper that left your lips. 

"Hurry up, angel, or I'm taking you right here against this door" You believed him, what with his hands slowly bunching your skirt up. 

The door opened abruptly, making you practically fall into the room, but with quick reflexes, he caught you in his arms. 

"I told you I got you, angel" 

You scoffed, deciding to make use of your full strength, surprising him by turning the both of you around and pushing him, so he fell flat on his back on the bed.

His eyes widened in surprise.

"I'm no angel, baby boy"

Peter wholeheartedly disagreed. He didn't think he had ever seen something more beautiful than you right then, eyes on fire as you let your dress fall, mischievous smirk promising a world of trouble. 

You straddled his waist, helping him get rid of his suit coat and his shirt, stopping short at the wide shoulders and defined chest you found underneath. It was his turn to smirk, as he snaked his big, big arms around your waist and twirled you on the bed, so you were the one trapped between the mattress and his powerful body.

"And I am no boy"

His mouth found yours again, Irresistible and addictive, something long forgotten inside him reawakening with every drag of your soft lips against his, every taste of your tongue on his. Your hands grabbed onto his biceps as he went for your neck again, making sure of sucking hard enough to break blood vessels under your skin and leave behind a dark, deep mark that would not fade quickly. He continued his way south, until he reached the top of your breast. He admired the softness and the color of your skin there, a perfect blank canvass. He bit down, with bruising force. 

Peter didn't know why he was being so rough with you, he had always been so careful, so tender with MJ. Always letting her take the lead, so aware of her fragility compared to him, always afraid of hurting her if he let himself get too carried away. He shook himself, he had already spent too many nights, to many hours, too many thoughts on her. He didn't want to waste another, not with your exquisite body under his, so pliant and willing. So eager to take all he was capable of giving you. 

Your hands had gone to his head again as soon as he had dug his teeth in, not pushing him away but pulling him closer. Yeah, you could definitely take it. 

You were a sobbing, squirming mess, as he trailed kisses and bites down your body, 

"Stay still for me, angel" he quipped, annoyed at having to pause on his way to his ultimate goal, "or I'll have to tie you to the bed"

You chuckled,

"Kiny. But sadly I don't have any ropes…"

A whooshing sound was the only warning you had before you found your right hand stuck to the headboard with what looked suspiciously like a spider web. You turned your wide eyes on him.

"Spider-man?" You gasped, astonished. He offered you his wrist, and you took it with your free hand, turning it this way and the other, examining the sophisticated device you had first mistaken for a bracelet. 

"Peter"

"What?" Your gaze returned to his handsome face in the dark.

"My name is Peter" He smiled, and you could swear the room lit up.

"Y/n" You confessed, giving him your real name instead of the false identity you had used to enter the party. 

"Y/n" He repeated, trying it out "Much prettier than Cut-throat" 

He knew who you were. Of course. But you knew who he was too, so maybe it wasn't so bad. He could have kept silent, kept the advantage, but instead he had evened the field. You were equals now, in every way. But more than that, something inside you told you you could trust him. A gut feeling, like those Matt kept talking about. 

He was one of the good guys after all.

You offered him your free hand, and if his smile had been bright before, now it was blinding. He kissed your open palm reverently, before sticking it to the headboard next to the other one. 

Peter kneeled on the bed, between your open legs, admiring you.

"Have you got any idea" he whispered, fingertips tracing your body, "how beautiful you look like this, all tied up and naked, just for me?" 

His hands cupped your breasts, thumbs playing with your nipples with just the right pressure to send shivers up and down your body.

"I wanted to play with you, to tease you, make you beg for it" like a spider playing with the helpless fly trapped in its web, "but I don't think I can wait any longer. I want you so bad…"

"But I am begging," You breathed out, arching your back, pushing yourself into his hands, "please, Peter. Please just fuck me" 

He hooked his fingers on the waistband of your ruined underwear.

"Say it again baby"

"Fuck me, Peter, please" 

He dragged your panties down your legs, helping you untangle them when they got stuck on your hills. He truly had never seen something so sexy, so sinful. And neither had you, once he had made quick work of his pants and underwear, wrapping his own hand around his impressive member, pumping once, twice, three times when he noticed your unwavering, unabashed stare. 

"Now you're just showing off…"

Peter laughed,

"Maybe. Like what you see?"

Your eyes traveled to the sharp, popping veins of his hands, perfectly matching the ones on his angry red length. 

"Yeah" You admitted, "yeah, I do"

His boyish grin had no place in a situation like this, but somehow it fitted better than any lecherous look could.

"I changed my mind" he declared, pushing your legs open, "maybe just a taste"

"What? Peter no" you whined, petulant, "I want to feel you! Now!"

"I don't think you understand, baby:" his hot breath fanned over your center, "You're mine tonight. Completely at my mercy…" 

He flattened his tongue, licking a long strip over your slit before closing his lips around your pearl and sucking softly, tearing a surprised cry out of you. He was every bit as good as you thought he would be, but you had something else in mind.

"Please, please Peter… I want-" You were panting as he kept on devouring you, the movements of the mattress near your feet making it quite obvious he was touching himself as he ate you, "I want your cock… I want to… I want to come around your cock" 

He mumbled something unintelligible, burying his face deeper, sucking harder. You felt his strong, thick tongue make its way inside you, eagerly lapping at your overly sweet juices. It was too much, and you tried to close your legs, to make him stop, but only succeeded in bringing him closer, deeper. You couldn't handle it, the way he was playing your body like a well loved instrument, coaxing the pleasure out of you too fast. And he didn't even need to stop for air. You tried to hold back your orgasm, tried to control it but it was in vain, soon it was crashing over you like a wave, a tsunami, leaving you exhausted, muscles aching by the sudden onslaught of inhuman bliss thrusted upon them. 

You were still riding high on your crest when Peter crawled his way up your body, burying himself inside you in one thrust, hissing at the way your walls squeezed him almost too tight. He only gave the both of you a couple of seconds to get used to it before starting to move. Like in the elevator, you tilted your hips to him, offering yourself up, giving him more access. It was the sweetest torture, feeling him so big, so deep, every thrust electrifying your body, making it come alight again, for him. 

And he, he couldn't get enough, couldn't control himself, not when you felt so heavenly. He wanted, no, he needed, to give it to you. Every last, shattered piece of what was left of him. Until it was all gone. Until he couldn't remember his name, couldn't remember her name. Until all that was left was you, and the way you felt around his cock, the way your body fitted in his hands, the way your screamed his name into the night, over and over and over again. Cause it sounded different from your lips, sounded brand new, sounded… pure. 

There, covered in sweat, grunting obscenely, debasing both you and himself in the dirtiest, most animalistic fucking, he felt alive like he hadn't in years. Maybe ever.

Peter's gaze fixed on you again, tugging at your restraints, hair a halo around your head, cheeks flushed, lips red and swollen. Breathing hard. The loveliest thing he had ever caught in his web. Your sobs and moans inter mingling with his own, were the most pornographic thing he had heard in his life, your hips moving to meet his, wet sounds of skin slapping skin filling the room… and you still looked like an angel. 

"Peter…" You cried out. He was so deep you could feel him in every cell of your body, his cock touching places you didn't even knew you had, stretching you almost painfully but not quite, just enough to make you question your sanity, to drive you wild, to keep you begging for more even if you couldn't really take it. 

"You feel so good angel" he was talking in your ear, hips never stopping, cock pounding into you without mercy, "gonna come for me again? Gonna let me feel it?..." 

You wanted to shake your head, to say no, you weren't that kind of woman, the kind that could come more than once, but you wanted so badly to be good for him. For once in your life, you wanted to be good.

"Ugh… come on, give it to me baby girl… fuck you feel so good… like heaven on my cock" 

"Peter!"

His thumb found your clit, rubbing messily, with no rhythm or finesse. No, he was too close for that, but he wanted you to come with him, needed the both of you to fall together. 

"You still have one more to give, don't you angel? You said it… said you wanted to come on my cock…"

You sobbed, weakly. You could feel all the muscles in your body lock again, the coil inside you tightening. You were at his mercy, just like he had said, there was nothing you could do to resist it, and you knew, you just knew that by the time this orgasm hitted you, there were gonna be tears in your eyes, for the sheer intensity, the-

"Yeah, like that… just like that… I can feel it… come for me angel, now!"

As on command, you felt your muscles contract and relax, every single one of your nerve endings exploding with bone shattering force. One last thrust and grunt above you, and Peter went lax, falling bonelessly next to you.

"Oh… oh, god!.. That was…"

You gigled, breathlessly,

"Yeah… I know…" 

"How… how do you feel? Are you ok? How are your arms?"

"Peter, stop freaking out, I'm ok, I promise" You tried to reach for his face but your hands were still tied to the headboard.

"You sure?" 

You stretched on the bed, arching your back like a cat and Peter couldn't help the way his eyes wandered to your breasts.

"I'm better than ever" 

He got up anyway, fetching a wet towel to clean you up and a bottle of orange juice from the minibar that he helped you drink. He then threw the cover over both your bodies, cuddling with you.

"So" you started, trying to get a look up at your still bound hands, "how long does this thing usually lasts"

Peter flinched,

"About three hours…"

"THREE HOURS??"

He drowned your indignant cry with a kiss, not stopping until he felt you relax under his body again.

"I'm sure I can find ways to keep you entertained until then…"

You captured his bottom lip, nibbling softly before releasing him,

"And I was thinking, you don't have to leave after. I mean, it's gonna be way too late for you to go, this city is kinda dangerous at night…" 

Peter smirked,

"I know… lot of baddies out there at night…"

"And weirdos in costume…" He swallowed the rest of your sentence, coaxing your mouth open with his gifted tongue, deepening the kiss. And you knew.

He was going to stay forever.

The end.

[quinncupine]

Obscured Chapter One: A New Day

Part Two of Taken Series

Chapter Word Count: 1,200

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya X Reader

Link: AO3

Previously: Taken Chapter Ten

Next Chapter: Two

MASTERLIST

Notes: So here we are at part two of my Taken Series! Thank you so much for all the support and love you’ve shown me and this series, seriously, you people are the best!

...

Izuku stared at the door, his feet stayed rooted to the floor. He never felt so conflicted before. This was the first time in his entire pro career that he actually dreaded going back to work. It wasn't because he didn't want to, he absolutely loved his job. This was a more personal matter. He didn't want to leave you.

It had been two weeks since the incident. You'd tried your best to move forward, but it seemed the world still wanted to know what happened. The journalists were relentless, apparently not satisfied with the police reports and press conference Izuku was forced to hold due to increased public demand. Being the number one hero meant that everything in Izuku's life was open to scrutiny and dissection.

Even now, you were sure there was some journalist camped out in front of the house, well Inko's house, waiting for someone to come out to harass. They had never been quite this enthusiastic at any other point in your relationship with Izuku, not even for your wedding (although he wasn't the number one hero then). He usually tried to keep his personal life under lock and key so you usually never had to deal with so much attention, aside from a few unfortunate moments. This, on the other hand, changed everything.

You felt guilty enough as it was that he had to come to your rescue, but then the media started dragging him through the mud. The story of your kidnapping had spread like wildfire and people were coming out of the woodwork to berate him. It wouldn't surprise you if this would knock him out of the number one spot on the hero charts. That was a lot of guilt to shoulder and it only added to your stress and own self frustrations.

Today was the day Izuku was going back to work, after two weeks he'd taken off to help you recover and to ease his own nerves. Well, he sort of took them off. He took patrols off at least, but you saw him up at all hours of the night making calls, scribbling notes like a madman, and working on case files. He couldn't, or wouldn't just stop being a hero, it just wasn't in his genes.

But even taking those two weeks seemed to rock the hero world and all sorts of criticism had come his way. It was, by no means, a small matter when it came to Deku. He was the number one hero after all, he had a reputation and status to upkeep. Of course, Izuku had never been the conventional hero, so he ignored the critics, even went against some advice the others heroes had given him. All so he could stay with you and make sure something like that could never happen again.

"You know, I can stay another day...if you want." Izuku turned from the door. "Shoto can handle things for one more day."

Shoto. That was another issue that you'd put on the backburner. The last time you two spoke was in the hospital two whole weeks ago and it didn't exactly end well. He still blamed himself for what happened. There was no permanent damage from his attack and you'd forgiven him. It wasn't his fault, but he clearly saw things a different way. Whatever was going through his head, you had no idea how to read it. So it was Momo who'd been given the task of breaking through that thick skull of his. She was his fiancée so if anyone could do it, it was her.

"No Izu, I am fine. I promise." You grabbed his shoulders and turned him back to the door. "I've got Inko here to keep me company and the girls are coming over later."

Izuku grabbed your hand, pulling you in front of him. "Alright, but please keep your phone charged and don't hesitate to call me if you need anything."

"Okay, mom." You rolled your eyes.

He sighed. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to demean, it's just-"

You pulled him for a quick kiss. "I know and I appreciate that, I really do. But if you're distracted thinking about me all day, is that really fair to the rest of the world?"

"But I already think about you all day." He pouted, pulling your hands up to his lips. "So what's a little more?"

You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning against him. "You think you're sooo cute, huh?"

He chuckled and engulfed you in his arms, leaning his forehead on yours. "I don't know what you're talking about."

You stared into his emerald eyes for a while, they were such an intense green that sometimes you found yourself falling into them. You opened your mouth to say something, but whatever it was died on your lips as a gushy awe interrupted you.

"You're too cute!" Inko exclaimed, her head poking out of the kitchen.

Izuku started, whipping his head around to see his mom leaning against the wall, her hands on her cheeks and hearts in her eyes.

"Morning mom." His face was dusted red as he turned back to you.

Inko jumped off the wall, suddenly aware she just interrupted something. "Oh, sorry, sorry! I'll just give you two a moment then." She retreated back into the kitchen.

Izuku blew out a laugh and leaned his forehead back on yours. He squeezed you into a tight hug.

"I'm serious." He whispered. "I'll have my phone on me all day. It doesn't matter the reason, just call."

You pecked his nose. "I'm serious too, I'll be fine."

He found your gaze and brought out his ultimate move; the puppy dog eyes. You'd been married to this man for almost three years, worked intense shifts in the E.R., and very recently faced down with an obsessive villain, yet you'd never found an effective defense against his puppy dog eyes.

"Yes, I promise to call." You raised a three-fingered salute. "Scouts honor."

He finally smiled again and leaned in for a proper kiss. You melted into him and felt his lips curve into a smile. You broke with a slight giggle and placed your hands on his cheeks, moving back to look at him one more time.

"I love you."

He stole another kiss. "I love you too."

He took a moment to compose himself before glancing back into the kitchen where Inko was peeking out from behind the wall.

"Bye, mom."

She rushed out from her hiding place and gave Izuku her signature mama bear hug, pulling him down to her level. "You remember to stay safe out there young man."

He patted her back. "Aren't I always?"

She didn't find that as funny as he did. She crossed her arms and glared until he relented, promising to stay safe.

Izuku kissed your cheek once more before grabbing his bag and headed out the door. It was still pretty dark outside, but he wanted to leave early enough to sneak past any sly journalists trying to get an exclusive.

He took a deep breath. Today was going to be a busy day.

...

Tag List! @miriobaby @thecindy @hmm-cats @awilddreamerwrites @in-this-house-we-stan-izuku @sailorstupidsblog @kehlaniwwe

If you wanna be tagged, let me know! Thank you Loves!!

[tomb-bloom-noctem]

Were there any episodes in season 3 where you felt they could've been written better? I'm only asking because I had some ideas I wanted to share with people about fixing them since, to me, the season started becoming a mess around The Phantom and the Sorceress. And the episodes don't need to be outright bad, there could just be parts in it you didn't like.

Oof. I've been a bit loud and obnoxious about certain episodes for sure 😅 I'll try to briefly sum up a few.

Also I'm just gonna say, some of these are just I don't like what they did rather than any huge fundamental problems like the finale.

Also disclaimer. This is not an attack on anyone who likes these episodes! Nobody has to agree with me! If you like these episodes cool! Glad you got something out of it! This is just Tombs being a nit pick loud mouth.

Rumble for Ragnarok

I can't complain too much about this one as it was still entertaining. Norse is part of my heritage and I'm a fan of the mythology which was on full display this episode. My only real issue this episode is that the message gets a little lost at least on me. And then two is I think out of all the episodes this one is the one that could absolutely be thrown out without losing anything really important. Trade this episode for something different. Something more important.

The Forbidden Fountain of the Forever Glades

Scrooge's behavior and leaving Webby in the jungle was painful to watch. (Much as I don't like the finale twist, the twist actually makes this episode worse.) [Also so much for Goldie's "fresh start" when in Split Sword of Swanstitine later showed she once again attempted to double cross Scrooge. Yeah. Fresh start. Totallyyyy.] Goldie is a fun character and I can't hate her too much. The episode has its merits and definitely still think this episode should be around but Scrooge's behavior here really kills me. Thankfully at the end he does better but ugh. It's low on the overall ranking for me based on how he behaves and treats Webby.

New Gods on the Block

I actually really love this episode but Storkules was pissing me off too much 😂 Nit pick for sure. I love this himbo but got dangit he was making me so mad. I get it was kinda important for the overall plot but come on we got so little Donsy content that it was frustrating that he was so intrusive.

The First Adventure

Nit picking again. I think it's kinda random how in the span of a few hours a hard ass like Scrooge went from "my obnoxious niece and nephew" to "my heirs and beloved family." I guess it's possible but not a fan of that kind of writing. For me it would make more sense that they had several adventures or at least more time with them before they became "his heirs" in his eyes. Extreme nit picking on my part though, the episode isn't bad at all really. Also no Hortense and Quackmore. Yes they were named. (Or she was) No we never got to see them. Rude! This was actually a really good episode though overall again I just have some minor nit picks.

The Fight for Castle McDuck

Okay this one is also kind of a nit pick but it's more like based on the episode's timing. I think it is absolutely ridiculous that Webby "Knower of all things Clan McDuck" has no idea that a family of Scots fights a lot. I can somewhat forgive it though as she's young and isn't as familiar with this side of the family in the flesh. But it's so weird how this late into the show we're seeing this?? I think I would have liked this episode more if it had popped up earlier into season 3 rather than so late? It just was a kinda weird episode and not the most enjoyable but the timing I think made it worse. Also the no mention of Hortense again. Referring to Matilda as the youngest when that's supposed to be Hortense? It's really not the worst episode. It just feels a bit off to me and again to me mostly the timing of it. Could have been better, could have been worse.

How Santa Stole Christmas

THROW THIS EPISODE INTO THE FUCKING GARBAGE. HATE HATE HATE IT. THIS ONE ACTUALLY MAKES ME RAGE.

This episode is actually worse for me than the finale. Literally I consider this episode the worst in the series. I just hate it!!!

I hate that this episode was about Scrooge and Santa. I really don't give a fuck why Scrooge hates Santa and this story in no way compelled me. (Also why was Scrooge and Santa's dialog weirdly shippy??? Thanks to this episode got another huge NOtp, "scranta" is gross, sorry, hate it. Absolutely cannot board that ship at all, I have the tag blocked.) I see absolutely no reason why this was the story we got when there was literally an option to follow up The Last Christmas now that Della was finally home????? MISSED OPPORTUNITY!!! I hate the weird crazy ass capitalist message going on throughout the episode, I get Scrooge is a capitalist himself but he didn't change from this episode? He walked away from Jennifer's obvious poverty life and went "ah as long as she's happy" instead of I don't know, maybe a message about helping the less fortunate??

Look maybe I'm just bitter from my own life. I've lived in extreme poverty my whole life. My parents home has literally looked so much liked the ruined place Jennifer lived in during the episode. And I live in Alaska so I KNOW COLD. I know how it feels to go cold for days on end, no food, no water, nothing. Extreme poverty. Scrooge could have done something. He wasn't like Donald who doesn't have much either. He's a freaking billionaire. He could have helped. And instead the message he walked away with is "if you're happy life is fine" or something. Whatever the message that was supposed to be from this episode is completely lost on me because all I see is a miserable rich old miser who hates letting kids have fun and won't help someone in need. Absolute garbage episode. I really wish they had instead just followed up on The Last Christmas. Or had some kind of family centric episode at least! I seriously fucking hate this episode so much. I would legit erase this episode if I could it is the WORST.

The Lost Cargo of Kit Cloudkicker

Nit pick again. Didn't love what they did with Kit. Okay I get the idea he grew up to idolize Baloo so he turned out more like him. It...wasn't great. Didn't like that much at all. Felt like they just tried to shove Kit into a DT87/DWD Launchpad mold. I didn't love that Baloo and Kit's relationship was mentioned weirdly casually? Like Kit called himself Baloo's sidekick??? Except in Talespin Kit calls him Papa Bear??? Also great, got another tag to block from this episode, the delkit ship. Not a fan, thanks.

Kinda weird for me with this episode I didn't really catch the meaning of it. To me it felt like the message was "defy expectations...by meeting them." It didn't really click and I kinda hated it for that plus the weird characterization of Kit. Actually I was on Twitter and someone was complaining about this episode and I responded in agreement and then FRANK REPLIED TO US 😅😅😅. Frank explained that the point was more of "if you're good at something, don't give it up" rather than "you can do anything you set your mind to" type message that appears a lot in kids media. (Also Frank please don't look at me when I'm criticizing the show 😂😂😂😂😭 I promise overall I do love it I'm just a loud mouth when I don't like something some times 😅)

After Frank explained that it did click a little better and I can see the message a bit more clearly. But I'm still not really in love with this episode like I wanted to be. I freaking love Talespin so that was a bummer. But as I've said a dozen times. I'm mostly nit picking my personal opinion.

The Life and Crimes of Scrooge McDuck

Another one I wanted to like more than I actually did. And mostly this boils down to Louie having to apologize to Doofus when Doofus is the one who's like some wild sociopath or something. I get it Louie hasn't been completely innocent towards Doofus. He did try to use him and con him but Doofus flat out has tried to hold him captive and torture and even kill him. Doofus' sins outweigh Louie's. Louie having to apologize to prevent the tension and all just...feels like victim blaming? This one is harder for me to describe why I don't like it and I think others have explained it better than me. I think it could have been better if Louie AND Doofus both apologized and agreed to start over and let what happened between them before be water under the bridge. At least this way they're equals? Maybe it wouldn't have been the best fix but I feel it would have been better than Canon. This one I don't want to call a nit pick. This one feels like there is something fundamentally wrong with it but I struggle to explain. Mostly other than that though I think the episode was fine. A little weird that the karma court scale needed to be told the villains hearts rather than able to just know them (mostly looking at the Ma Beagle one here) but that part is more nit pick.

And finally...The Last Adventure

I have things I love about it. The individual character moments. The references and call backs. The music. This finale was clearly made with love and care.

But that damn Webby clone daughter thing twist changes things. I know some people say it doesn't but to me it does! I feel it messed with the family dynamic and the characters in a needless way. I feel it didn't add anything to but rather did take away from. I don't wanna say too much on it as there's already been so much talk on it so in keeping it brief- not a fan, didn't like, why the hell, no.

The thing with Bradford kinda threw me off too. His logic and insistence on not being a villain made him so interesting. He was truly a villain to rival Scrooge. Then in my opinion he was pushed into a weird middle ground. He didn't feel like he completely abandoned what he previously stood on but also didn't go full villain either? I get a villain like Bradford isn't easy. The writers have to truly bring their all for someone like him. But Bradford suddenly getting armor and the Split Sword and becoming a battling giant was kinda ????? inducing. Threw me for a bit of a loop. I probably need to watch this episode a few more times before I finally settle on where I sit with the Bradford thing but at least at this time I just feel kinda mixed on it. Maybe I missed something there.

Other nit picks from the finale. Donald's writing was a little weird, he sounded like he was going on vacation but then Della said he was moving out and Donald talked like "well you have the boys and Uncle Scrooge..." it just really sounds like he's leaving the family?????????? Especially at a time like this? Rude! I mean yes somebody please get this man a vacation but the writing here left me kinda confused and there is no reason Donald would ever just leave and act like "oh well their mom is back so my work here is done." Nope. DADnald for life.

Lena and Webby never getting shown to have made up after their fight. I imagine the giving June and May the friendship bracelets kinda implies it but come on. Even just a hug would have been good. Also...why are they giving up their friendship bracelets??? Confused, not a fan.

And also...in addition to the Clone twist, I really don't love that April, May, and June were all clones instead of Daisy's nieces. I really wanted to get to see them in the show and now I just feel like thanks I hate it! I admire the guts to make a twist like this and all but I really hate it.

Overall please let me say I LOVE Ducktales. The show as a whole to me is a huge important thing I love. This isn't an attack on anyone who likes these episodes. I am just once again being loud and obnoxious with my own opinions and nit picks and things I just would have liked to see or not see.

no idea if any of this rambling answers your question Anon but here you go. Hope it works.

[merakiui]

There's an AFTERL!FE blog now! I'm so happy. All of your posts are so good and I love how you write. Would it be possible to get another story about Theo and Nine's rivalry? The way you write them is just so fun and enjoyable to read.

(Thank you so much! I’m very happy that you like my posts. (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ* You may definitely have another story of their rivalry! I had a blast writing it. This can be considered a sequel to Cake, but it can be read as a standalone as well.)

Nerium Oleander (Theo and Nine)

Stalkers are poison ivy. Their victims are innocent trees, who breathe life and fortune into the one who watches them like a hawk. Twining around their limbs like rope and heavy iron and keeping them pinned for all their worth—it’s a display of parasitic infatuation. Love, like any other emotion felt in full, is awfully draining. Day and night, allowing that person to consume your thoughts. Thinking and wondering if they appreciate you just as much as you value them. Wishing that they would notice everything you’ve done for them on the sidelines. Loathing anyone who threatens that nonexistent relationship.

As fate would have it, there are unlucky instances in which love is one-sided.

Theo simply can’t bear the thought of that, so he becomes oleander—a flower blooming in beautiful death. One hint of its aroma can send you to an early grave. Every inch of the inviting flower is bathed in poison, and yet it’s still so gorgeous. Why is it that the ugliest personalities have the prettiest shells? It’s frustrating to know that he has competition. In a setting with nineteen other Reapers, Theo’s got a lot on his plate. Like ivy and oleander, it’s the exterior that fools. A sharp, monstrous idea can be wonderful as long as it’s hidden within layers of honeyed promises. Like a cake that’s stacked with plenty of delicious flavors.

He doesn’t want to waste his time on endeavors that won’t bear any fruit, but befriending every Reaper will have its benefits. He’s already made a list of those who pose the highest threat to his precious manager. Nine is at the very top, his name circled in black pen. As much as he dislikes the polite and oh-so-gracious Reaper, he has to pretend as if the two of them are friendly coworkers. As if he doesn’t wish for Nine to transfer to another Department or to cease existing. But immortality is funny like that. You’re either stuck with the best people in the world or the fiends of your worst nightmares. Theo wonders if this is his punishment. Spending an eternity with Nine is far more hellish than Quincy and his status as a devil.

Which is why he holds so much hatred for those who hurt his manager, specifically the ones who simply don’t know when to quit.

The blue-eyed oleander witnesses it in the early hours of the morning during a particularly unfavorable mission. A vengeful spirit had the gall to hurt his manager, and they had even more of a spine to talk to them as if they were a worthless weed. In his garden of noxious plants, Theo sees the disgusting hemlock attempting to snuff out the beauty that is his beloved rose. His expression switches in an instant, a light flickering behind those expansive eyes. There are so many emotions he feels in that moment, but fear is dominant as it grabs his heart and squeezes. The spirit could kill them. It’s about to kill them, and he’s flipping through his spell book with rapturous intent.

And then Nine is at their side, shielding them from the spirit’s attack. Before him, the specter vents in anger, spewing meaningless insults. Theo feels as though he’s just been kicked in the stomach. Why is it so hard to get to you? he thinks, gripping the leather book. His chest aches as he sees the manager cling to Nine. Why can’t I be the one who saves you for once? Why can’t you just rely on me? Nine is better equipped to deal with the situation as he listens, attempting to reason with the vengeful spirit. Its crocodile tears don’t faze Theo in the slightest. He should be the one crying because he was too late. One spell and his manager would’ve been rescued from the claws of such a beastly spirit. And yet Nine was faster with his reaction time.

Theo makes a mental note of the way Nine purifies the vengeful spirit once it’s calmed down. He’s always gentle when he talks to them, using his relaxing aura to coax them into tranquility. Theo would’ve preferred to crush it beneath his unmerciful heel, but the problem has been solved. There’s no use fretting over it now. Though it will definitely keep him awake tonight.

“Manager!” He jogs over to them, dropping down to inspect their wounds. “Take this to stop the bleeding. I’ll help you.” Unfastening his cape, he passes it to the manager, who holds it against the bloody laceration while he searches for a proper healing spell.

“Thank you, Theo,” (Name) says, wincing at the stinging sensation. “That spirit really put up a fight. Thanks for coming to my aid, Nine.”

“No need to thank me, Manager. I’m relieved you’ll be okay. Mr. Theo will have you healed in no time.”

Theo grits his teeth before facing Nine. He wants this unworthy hemlock out of his special garden. “Could you gather the others? Let them know that we’re finished over here.”

“Very well. Are you sure you don’t need my help?”

“No.” It comes out way too stern, and Theo’s quick to correct himself. “No thank you. We’ll be fine.”

He doesn’t spare Nine another glance as he departs, focusing on the manager’s pained expression with sympathy. They’re in his arms now, grasping at him for salvation. The situation couldn’t be anymore perfect.

“That was crazy, wasn’t it?” they ask, making light of the previous events. “My heart is still racing!”

“I...was so worried, Manager.”

They let out a wheezing chuckle. “Thank goodness Nine was there. If it weren’t for him, I could’ve gotten killed. It’s scary to think about.”

“Yeah. Terrifying,” he echoes while casting the healing spell on them. Surely there’s a curse that brings misfortune. Theo wants to do everything he can to master every negative incantation there is. Just for future reference. There are so many possibilities when it comes to his rivals. He’ll have a field day debating which is the most effective. “You’ve got to be more careful. If you ever find yourself in trouble, just come to me. I’ll always be here to help you.”

They smile, sitting up on their own accord and feeling for any wounds that might’ve escaped the cleansing powers of Theo’s magic. Every cut is sealed and every bruise is gone, leaving the manager with a feeling of rejuvenation. At once, they recognize the plush fabric of Theo’s cape and gasp, noticing just how much blood has stained the white cloth.

“I’m sorry for making such a mess. I’ll wash this as soon as we get back.”

Theo eyes the color with disdain. How utterly cliché. It’s almost sickening. Red on white is too bold—too deep of an implication. Red is a color that means many things, two of that being passion and love. A third is the color of blood. And white is meant to symbolize purity. Theo knows he’ll have to work hard so that the manager’s purity doesn’t bleed out onto the sterile white of this corrupt world. There’s no way he’ll ever let that happen. When he stares at his cape, drenched in splotchy crimson, he sees more than just a soiled piece of fabric. He sees the darkest imprint of (Name). But blood is still messy, even if it is his beloved’s.  

Theo wonders which cleaning agent is best for erasing blood. His thoughts spiral deeper and deeper into a rabbit hole of wickedness. Mortality is fragile, and cake and blood are no different. Both are victims of inescapable chance. On the other hand, immortality is a curse that binds him to the one he’d rather be far away from. Speak of the hemlock, who has completed the command with diligence. Nine approaches with the others in tow, all of whom crowd the manager like insects. Theo wishes to spend a moment longer with them. Just a few more minutes. There’s so much I want to tell you. He’s bound to this silver-lined rivalry, a prisoner of obsession. And Nine has no idea.

He supposes that’s how poison works. It doesn’t take long until it spreads within its victim, who is unaware as it shuts down vital organs and flatlines their functions. If Theo has to cut the strings that tie him to Nine and anyone else who dares get in the way of him and the manager, he’ll do whatever it takes. Like poison, it’s small and deadly. Poison might not kill an immortal Soul Reaper, but that has nothing to do with their mentality. Cake might be the same when it comes to ingredients and presentation, but it’s the baker who’s most important. A cracked baker is easy to exploit. He’s even easier to tear apart when he’s alone and basking in his own corrosive thoughts.

The oleander festers at the manager’s side, a quiet flower waiting for an opportunity to infect everyone with debilitating poison.

------

Nine has begun to notice a pattern. It’s tiny at first—like a minor inconsistency that isn’t worth the trouble. But then it becomes a prominent itch that looms in the back of his mind like a shadow. Since that mission, Theo’s been hanging around the manager as if he expects another near-death experience to happen, which shouldn’t be much of a worry. Although (Name)’s mortality is concerning, Nine knows the Reapers in the 14th Department would never let any fatal harm befall their precious manager. So why is there a strange feeling that overwhelms him whenever he spots Theo trailing after them, holding files or a bento he made specifically for them? Anyone with half of a brain would assume he’s playing favorites, attempting to get on the manager’s good side so that the punishment for skipping out on work is lighter. Though Theo doesn’t seem like the type to slack off, which is why Nine is sinking in a state of perplexion.

What is he trying to achieve? Realistically, what is there to gain other than (Name)’s approval? They like each and every one of the Reapers, so it’s not like anyone’s on their bad side. He has an eternity to figure it out, though Nine can’t exactly be bothered. If it isn’t hurting anyone, why should he fret over Theo’s behavior? It’s not as though he’s acting out of line. Rather, he’s been quite pleasant. He even offered to assist Nine in moving a few boxes. Nine doesn’t want to hold any suspicions about his colleague, nor does he want paranoia gnawing on his ankles like a puppy.

Without realizing it, he’s been aimlessly walking through the campus as he pieces together fragmented thoughts. His eyes land on the manager, who is alone as they stride towards him. For once, Theo isn’t at their beck and call. Nine thinks of Day and his unwavering loyalty. Perhaps Theo is just as enthused about (Name) as Day is with him. Nine shrugs those comparisons away, opting to focus on his manager.

“Hi, Nine! What’re you doing out here?”

“Taking a small stroll,” he answers. “The weather is perfect for this, and it’s always beneficial to get some exercise.”

“I agree. To be honest, I wanted to clear my head for a bit. I’ve got so much work that it’s beginning to stress me out.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Manager. Would you like any help?”

“I don’t want to bother you.” They wave their hand through the air as if the distress isn’t clear enough. It’s obvious they’ve been pulling all-nighters just to get through paperwork and other tasks. “Would you mind if we walked together?”

Nine considers their offer for a moment. While he would prefer a few more moments to himself, he can’t deny someone as caring as (Name). It’s almost a crime to turn them down, and he has no idea where all of this fondness is suddenly coming from. Regardless, there’s a sneaking sensation that touches his sixth sense. Since when did the flowers have eyes? The wind rustles through the greenery, creating an eerie sound that settles in the courtyard. He’s compelled to retrace his steps and turn down the corridor, but your patient expression chases that idea away.

“I don’t mind.” He falls into step with you, calmly observing the deliberate clicking of your shoes. “Take care not to overwork yourself. The 14th Department depends on your leadership.”

At least a few Reapers are more than dependent, he thinks.

“I’ll be fine as long as I can finish everything on time. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Make sure you’re getting enough rest and eating your meals—“

“I know,” they say, drawing out the syllables. “I appreciate your concern, Nine. It means a lot.”

He nods, a simple gesture that confirms his gratitude. His manager is always thanking and praising the others. Briefly, he wonders if they’ve ever taken time to care for their own well-being rather than the well-beings of the Soul Reapers.

“When all of this is over, I’d love to spend more time with you,” (Name) goes on, a bounce in their step. Nine doesn’t miss the excitement that flashes through their features at the prospect of getting to bond with him. He’d rather be alone, but Nine has found it to be a challenge whenever they’re involved. “Do you think you could teach me to play an instrument? I’ve been meaning to pick something up, but I never seem to have time.”

Well, Nine happens to be skilled with his hands. And hands are required to play most—if not all—instruments. Perhaps you’d like to learn the violin, or maybe you’re interested in the drums. He’ll have to learn as he goes with those, but it’s worth it if it means (Name) will be happy. How odd. Where did all of this compassion come from? Nine knows what instrument they’ll say, as the two of them have sat in the storage room and played it on plenty of occasions. The atmosphere doesn’t change, but the flowers certainly do. As if wanting to blot out a horrid memory, the eyes close and a mouth creases into a tight line. Nothing short of disappointment.

“I was thinking I could be good at the piano if I tried hard enough. What do you think? We can play together, and we can even form a band.”

A band consisting of two people is hardly a band. Handcuffs can only restrict one person. A pair of unseeing eyes are useless, and Nine knows his words must be chosen carefully lest his tongue sit on a rusted tray.

He puts on a thin smile. “Learning an instrument can be just as stressful as work. I wouldn’t want to jeopardize your health.”

“I’ll be fine, but you do make a good point. It might be overwhelming if I try to balance that and missions. One of these days I’ll try to learn.”

Just not now.

And he couldn’t be any more relieved.

------

Nine finds himself in the common room later that evening, reflecting over the events of the day when he encounters the blooming oleander. He’s preoccupied with the book in his hands, which is a collection of stories written by the famous Edgar Allan Poe. He never intended to pick up something so macabre. It happened to be the first thing he grabbed while perusing the shelves. Perhaps he should’ve looked for a poetry book instead. Before he can get up and complete that task, Theo enters his visage, the corners of his lips upturned. It fails to reach his eyes.

“Good evening, Nine. I didn’t expect to find you here. This is a wonderful surprise nonetheless.” He says a greeting that’s reminiscent of Nine’s, which has been tailored ingeniously. Recycled words are only worthwhile if they’re put to positive use, and Theo bleeds venom. He has no reason to speak to Nine. In fact, he’d rather avoid him at all costs, but that won’t work if he intends to poison his fragile mind with every bit of sly kindness he can muster. Theo has learned to be resourceful. A talented baker knows how to improvise, after all. “Oh, I recognize that cover. It’s an anthology of Edgar Allan Poe’s short stories. Which one are you reading?”

Nine glances at the page, picking out notable phrases. He’s at the part where the old man is smothered by his own bedsheets. “‘The Tell-Tale Heart.’”

“That’s grim, isn’t it? Well, all of his stories are, but that one in particular is really morbid.” Theo sits beside him on the sofa, keeping a gap between him and the weed that is Nine. “Wouldn’t it be scary if you woke up to someone trying to kill you? I know I’d be alarmed. But we’ve already experienced death, so maybe it’s not frightening anymore.”

He tries to understand the motive behind Theo’s incessant chatter. The two of them have never really clicked. Small talk isn’t something they can fall into so easily. Nine wants to ask Theo many things, but it’s wrong to suspect someone without any evidence. So he merely nods as he listens to Theo, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave. It’s not as if Nine doesn’t want to talk; he’s just not accustomed to this facet of the Day Reaper. Lo and behold, the question slips out before he can stop himself.

“What would you do?”

“Excuse me?”

“If you were one of the investigators, what would be your reaction to the man?”

“Oh,” Theo states, pursing his lips as if the inquiry requires deep thought. “We know that the narrator is unreliable. He only wants to kill the old man because of his eyes. He gets paranoid when he hears the man’s heartbeat coming from the floorboards, even after he dismembered his body. I’m sure anyone, investigator or not, would think he’s insane.”

“Do you think that?”

Theo bristles at the question, a sour taste coating his tongue. Why is he suddenly being interrogated by Nine? This isn’t an interview, and it certainly isn’t a questionnaire for a criminal. He laughs to cover up the crack in his mask. “Of course I do. No one of sound mind would murder someone defenseless all because of the way their eyes looked. Just saying it out loud like this is madness.”

Nine nods again. Insanity cannot exist without sanity. A heart cannot function without a beat. A parasite cannot live without a host. He’s not sure where this conversation is going. This is far from a cheery book club meeting. Nine searches every inch of his expression, noting the occasional twitch of his mouth and the constriction of his pupils. Yet he can’t detect an ounce of a practiced lie. Could it be that his instincts are misplaced? Is this what Theo has wanted all along: A moment to talk to Nine as friends rather than coworkers? Perhaps he has been incorrect in his judgement.

The book shuts; Nine doesn’t want to read anymore. There’s an unfinished composition waiting for him in his dorm room. Standing up from the couch, he lowers his head in the form of a farewell. He sets the novel on the coffee table so that Theo can indulge in the fictional world of Poe.

“I’m afraid something has come up, so I’ll be leaving now. Please enjoy the remainder of your evening, Mr. Theo.”

“I will.” Theo beams. “Sleep well.”

Nine doesn’t waste a second turning his back on Theo, exiting the common room with graceful movements. As soon as he’s out of sight, the happy grin melts away and is replaced with that of a dark scowl. He’s not a mindless fool. It was obvious that Nine was uncomfortable. He’s just too polite to say anything, and that’s a weakness Theo’s willing to dissect.

So you were reading Poe, hm? he muses to himself, picking up the book and turning it over in his hands. I took you for a poetry guy. How chilling, Nine. Manager wouldn’t like these grotesque tales.

Who is he to determine what they like and dislike? Theo’s watched (Name) for quite some time now, committing their quirky habits to memory. It’s almost comical how they never seem to notice. Nine does, but he’s always been keen, and yet he can never understand the meaning behind his constant staring. That’ll happen when you spend your days alone, keeping yourself entertained with the voice inside your head. Theo wonders if Nine gets lonely with that depressing lifestyle. The two of them are like night and day. Theo’s bright and blinding like the sun. Nine is quiet and calm like the moon. But there isn’t any oxygen on the moon, and the sun can steal a person’s eyesight without feeling any remorse. Two Reapers of complete opposites, rising and setting all the same. A weed and a flower masquerading in a game of cat and mouse.

Oleander grows to towering heights. A stalker’s presence looms as tall as the very flower Theo embodies. He doesn’t care if he’s a leech or a misleading flower. Anything’s better than hemlock and the imposter cake Nine’s baking. Theo’s the baker and the pianist, not Nine. It will never be Nine. He’ll make sure of that. At his very core, Nine is a jawbreaker of many emotions and memories. Theo will fracture every layer until nothing’s left. Until the ground is a mess of colors and stories that unfold before the entire 14th Department. He’ll dig into Nine’s mind with a knife and fork to pull apart stringy recollections of his past life. It’s guaranteed to be a dessert far tastier than a slice of cake.

Poison ivy is easy to identify. As the saying goes, ‘leaves of three, let it be.’ Theo isn’t as obvious as a sickening rash. That’s the difference between ivy and oleander. One kills and the other spreads with red irritation. While he could sit and wallow in bitter annoyance, he’d rather get to memorizing every hateful hex in his spell book. Maybe he can trick Ell into making him a felt doll of Nine. Oh, the thrill of voodoo. Theo’s never performed such dark magic before, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. He’d like to see Nine lose his mind for a change, because eternity knows Theo’s lost his.

The manager deserves only the prettiest of flowers, and oleander has such a gripping, virulent embrace.