#she's petty and angry and wants him to suffer like she did | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fanmoose12 · 23 days

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Hello Fanmoose 🤎

I just saw your post with the Fanfiction Tropes! I choose #42 the big damn kiss.

Generally, February is a pretty hectic month for Hange. It doesn’t by any means come even close to how January makes them feel - the first month of the year usually brings so much chaos that even they struggle to keep up with it all, and while, in that regard, February is a lot much calmer, the exhaustion from the stress accumulated during the month prior entirely drains Hange off all energy.

And, somehow, this year it feels even worse.

St. Valentine’s Day that Hange ordinarily adores, because there is little they love more than showing people that they love just how much they love them, this year seems more like a dreaded nightmare.

It’s Hange’s own fault, of course, and they’re very well aware of that - it was their decision to participate in the annual dance contest, and it was their own pettiness that drove them to make that very same decision. But logic matters not, when their pride is wounded, and they’re ready to do anything to win against their last year’s partner, and, subsequently, unfortunately, their ex, and they have to do it in the most over the top way possible too. They have to wipe that smug smirk off Zeke’s face, to humiliate and crush him - treat him the same way that he treated them.

Which is what they have been training and rehearsing for so relentlessly, spending more time in a dance class than they ever did. Which is why, most probably, Moblit suffered the way that he did.

And as Hange sees his face contort in pain and his ankle start to swell and turn angry red, their determination takes a form of what it truly is - a childish, pathetic and selfish act that ended with their friend getting hurt.

Their vigor nearly dies right there and then, but– still survives, unfortunately.

Hange is in too deep already, they must snatch victory out of Zeke and his new girlfriend Pieck’s hands, so after they help Moblit get back to his room, bring ice for his ankle and his favorite brand of chocolate for his fallen spirits, promising to buy him lunch for the entirety of the next week, they make themself cozy on his couch and begin to think about their next move.

They need to find a new partner, that much is obvious, but who can they even go to with such a request?

Their brother Mike is deemed unsuitable immediately, the contest, after all, is only for couples. And beating your ex with the help of your older brother seems a little too pathetic, even in Hange’s case. Unfortunately, they can’t ask Erwin for help too: there is probably not a single soul in their university who hasn’t heard - and, on numerous occasions, witnessed - the great love story that is unfolding between him and Mike. Of course, Hange could go to Nanaba and bribe with her some kind of generous offer - a bottle of her favorite wine or that cactus she’s been fawning over ever since she laid her eyes upon it in a local flower shop, but, although, Nanaba is undeniably kind and unbelievably easy to bribe, she’s also very obviously done with the whole drama surrounding Hange and Zeke’s failed romance. Being a part of a vindictive scheme is probably the last thing that she’d want to do. Hange can always ask Nifa, the girl is too nice to reject them, but after already hurting one member of their science club, they are a bit apprehensive of involving another one.

And that leaves them with just one option, an option they wouldn’t really consider as such, but– Levi hates Zeke too, doesn’t he? For entirely different reasons, of course, but the animosity is there, and, maybe, Hange can play off it.

Levi will probably deny them at first, but with a bit of persuading, pestering and - good-humored, naturally - tormenting, they’re sure he’ll come around.

He must come around, he is Hange’s last and only chance.

And they’ll do anything not to squander it.

________

They set their plan in motion first thing in the morning, taking a seat beside Levi at the beginning of the lecture.

Immediately - he eyes them warily, his eyebrow slightly raised. The reason for his suspicion is understandable - usually Hange occupies the first row, not the last one that Levi seems so fond of. But they’ve foreseen his apprehension, and they beat it swiftly - with a cheerful smile.

Levi takes one look at that smile and– lets out a deep sigh.

“What do you want from me this time?” he asks bluntly, and Hange would have been offended if they weren’t so annoyed by Levi’s ability to read them like a book.

And since Levi doesn’t have the patience to bear around the bush, Hange doesn’t do so either.

With that same - undeniably charming, if they can say so themself - smile, they grab his hand, hold it tightly, and proclaim rather loudly, “Help me, Levi Ackerman, you’re my only hope! Please be my boyfriend for the next two weeks!”

In the first few seconds, Levi seems taken aback - his eyes are wide, his jaw grows slack, and if Hange is not mistaken by the artificial light of the lecture room, his cheeks gain color as well, but then his gaze darts to the entrance, where a limping Moblit is approaching his usual seat, and the realization dawns on him.

And he yanks his hand out of Hange’s grasp.

“Are you for real, four-eyes? You’re still fixated on that jerk?”

“I’m not–” Hange starts, their voice raised in outrage before they notice the annoyed looks of their fellow students. They take a pause then, will their voice to quieten, although it remains just as strict. “I’m not fixated on him! Or anyone else for that matter!” they hiss in Levi’s face. “I just want to beat him!”

Levi raises an eyebrow, looking so unimpressed that Hange starts to rethink their whole plan altogether. Maybe, Nanaba would be more agreeable, after all.

“Do you really want to beat him?” Levi asks. “Or just get him back?”

“Oh fuck you! I’m not that pathetic, you know?”

“The whole campus seems to think otherwise.”

“Well then fuck all of them too,” Hange declares, crossing arms on their chest and turning their face away from Levi’s too sharp eyes. They can’t believe that he out of all people would turn out to be such an asshole about that.

They rise up, ready to storm out and proudly march to their usual seat. Levi’s hand on their elbow stops them, though.

“Is that really it?” he asks, staring into their eyes with intensity Hange has never noticed in him. “You just want to beat him?”

“Well…” Hange’s lips curl into a wry smile. “And, preferably, humiliate him greatly in the process.”

Levi stares at them for another inexplicably long moment, before he returns his gaze back to his nothers.

“Alright then,” he says, “I’m in.”

Hange squeals, and - ignoring the very pointed and very irritated glares of other students - pulls Levi into a hug.

He grumbles something nearly illegible, but - doesn’t push them away.

Hange counts it as another win.

______________

Their first rehearsal, to which Hange drags Levi as soon as their last lecture ends, is… awkward, to say the least.

It’s not in Hange’s nature to be shy, and they know they’re quite tactile, and it’s not like they’ve never touched Levi before. Even with his disagreeable self, there is a hand upon his shoulder there and their legs thrown over his lap here, an occasional hug, and, for god’s sake, they even slept alongside him in his bed during those few incidents when Hange was too drunk to make it to their own.

They’ve been friends since high school, and, although oftentimes Levi acts like he’s repulsed just by their presence alone, Hange knows it to be nothing more than a facade under which he hides his softer - and, dare they say, absolutely adorable - side.

But now, seeing him in the light of a cold and lazy February’s sun that flickers through the window of a dance class and standing so close to him while being very much not drunk, Hange feels… strange. There is a strange flutter in their chest and their belly feels strangely warm, and they’re certain that this warmth has already traveled to their cheeks.

It’s the strange intensity in Levi’s gaze that is to blame, Hange is sure of it. What they’re not sure of if it has always been there. Did he always look at them this way? Did they just never notice?

“Oi,” he snaps abruptly, putting an end to Hange’s reverie. “Are we going to do something? Or just stand for the whole day?”

“Right!” Hange forces a giggle out, knowing it sounds way too weak to appear genuine but not knowing how else to hide their embarrassment. Embarrassment they very - if ever - feel, especially in the presence of someone as familiar to them as Levi. They shake their head, banishing these ridiculous thoughts, and focus on a task at hand. Moving even closer into Levi’s personal space, they take his palm and place it on their shoulder, "So, this goes here,” they murmur, mostly to distract themself from what they’re about to do next, “and this goes here,” they put their hand on Levi’s waist, and then, as the final touch, they take his free hand in their own, “and that’s… how we begin.”

“So you’ll be the one to lead?”

If Hange’s hand wasn’t held by Levi, they would have smacked their forehead. Of course! How could they forget! They’ve practiced the routine with Moblit before, and he, for the most part, was on board with everything Hange offered. But Levi is not Moblit. He is not so… gullible. And he’s quite stubborn, when he wants to be.

What if he refuses to be the led one?

“Are you against it?” Hange asks, tentatively, afraid to hear the answer. If Levi truly is against it, they would need to relearn the whole routine, and with only a week and a half before the competition, they’re unsure if they’re up to it. After all, they’re a scientist, not a dance master.

But Levi dismisses their worries quickly, with a mere shrug.

“I don’t really care. Whatever makes the asshole lose.”

Hange surprises even themself with how relieved their chuckle is. They make eye contact with Levi, wait for him to give them a nod, and then start slowly leading him through the routine.

It’s nothing crazy, naturally, Hange does like dancing, but they’ve never invested much time in perfecting that skill, more focused on their academic talents, but it’s still complicated enough - they do have to flabbergast everyone, juries and, especially, Zeke included - and, at first, Levi struggles to follow, his legs constantly getting tangled up in an effort to match Hange’s pace. But he catches up fairly quickly, he certainly is a quick learner, and as he gets more familiar with the routine, he grows more confident, and– starts to move so gracefully that Hange, who knows the dance like the back of their hand already, feels a little slighted. But the feeling goes away swiftly, as in its stead appears gratitude and a sense of awe.

They really couldn’t find a better replacement for Moblit.

The sun has already set by the time Hange’s body tells them that it’s time to quit. Dancing with Levi is not just easy, it’s surprisingly fun too, and, as a result, they lose track of time completely. They fail to notice just how exhausted they feel too, and it’s only as they get dizzy from yet another turn that Hange registers the pain in their legs.

They motion Levi to stop, and plop down to the floor right where they stood, sprawling across the hard floor of the dance class.

“Disgusting,” Levi comments, but takes a seat next to them. He kicks their shin, waits until Hange turns their head in his direction, and asks. “Except this, do we need to do something else?”

Be it their exhaustion that turns their mind sluggish or just Levi’s cryptic and concise way of communicating, but they can only find one answer to his question, “Huh?”

Levi rolls his eyes like he often does in their presence, and explains. Or, attempts to anyway. “You said I need to be your boyfriend. Does that mean–”

“Oh!” a metaphorical lightbulb flashes over Hange’s head. They chuckled and wave their hand dismissively. “Dunno. I honestly didn’t think about it much, but I guess… we should hang out more, just the two of us, you know? Nothing more than that. I mean, no offense, but I doubt you can act all lovey-dovey with me.”

Strangely, Levi does take offense. His jaw clenches and his eyes narrow, some emotion coming to life inside them that he hides before Hange has a chance to decipher it. “I could,” he says, voice strangely hollow, as he stands up, not looking at Hange anymore. “If I really was your boyfriend.”

Not saying another word, not even bothering with a goodbye, he walks out of the dance class, leaving Hange alone, still laying on the floor, and so, so confused.

_______________________

Hange tries not to let Levi’s words get into their head. They really, really do. They attempt to chalk it all up to him being clumsy with his words, he’s known for that, after all. But usually Hange can easily understand what Levi’s really trying to say. Their friends even call them Levi’s personal translator, because no matter the state they’re in, they always find the meaning in Levi’s short and, oftentimes confusing, remarks. But–

But if Levi meant what they think he meant then– no, it can’t be. It is utterly ridiculous. Even the notion is completely fanciful.

They just were tired, and, maybe, a bit affected by the whole experience. Dancing, after all, is quite an intimate affair. And while they didn’t feel anything even remotely resembling that with Moblit, it’s simply because Moblit is, well, Moblit. Good-looking, certainly, but not in the way that Hange prefers. He lacks the edge that gets them so excited.

Levi has that edge, however, and Hange would have to be completely blind or blatantly lying to deny his handsomeness.

Perhaps, it’s simply natural to feel this way while in such close proximity with him. It’s strictly physiological. It’s not like any deeper feelings are involved.

And, certainly, Levi does not reciprocate them. It’s all just in their head, and it will go away as soon as this whole farce with fake relationship is over.

They just need to win the competition, there is no place in their mind for anything besides that.

_____________

For the next week, they rehearse almost daily, stopping more often than not when they’re either too tired to continue or so sweaty they can’t stand to be so close to one another. The routine evolves a bit, getting more complicated and so, so much better.

As does their relationship.

The necessity to spend so much time alone with Levi pushes Hange to realization that although they’ve known him for so long, they don’t really know him all that much. It shouldn’t be surprising to be honest, he does tend to stick to the background, after all, and it’s understandable why his persona oftentimes gets overlooked in a group of friends as rowdy as theirs is.

But now that Hange pays more attention to him and him only, they discover many hidden sides of him that they had no idea existed. But now that they do, they’re so very eager to explore them in more depth.

For starters, they find out just how funny Levi truly is. They’ve heard his cutting remarks many times before, of course, they’ve laughed at them just as often, but now that there are just the two of them, no raucous laughter from Mike or teasing jests from Nanaba, Hange develops a new fondness for his humor, dry as though it might be.

He’s also unbelievably considerate, a trait of his that before Hange was only vaguely aware of. But now they see just how kind Levi is, albeit he does express it in very peculiar ways. He pushes into Hange’s hands his lunch, saying that he accidentally made way too much, he gives them mittens, claiming that he does not need them, he walks them to their dorm after their dancing sessions because, apparently, he sleeps way better after a stroll, he brings them coffee in the morning, cursing the barista in the local cafe, who mixed up his order for the third time in a row. The kind gestures are adorable and heart-warming to no end, and the badly executed attempts to cover them up make Hange brim with fondness for him.

He’s surprisingly attentive too, not just tolerating Hange’s endless rambling but actually listening to it as well. He barely participates in conversation, no matter what it is about, but he always listens, hums or shakes his head to express his agreement or disbelief.

And– what perplexes Hange most of all - he helps them sell the story of being madly in love when even Hange themself doesn’t think to do so. He sits just a little too close, when they eat in cafeteria, holds their hand as they go to fill the application form to join the contest, and once, as Zeke passes by them in a hallway, he wraps an arm around their waist, pulling their side flash against his.

The act is spontaneous, his palm on their waist is so warm that it snatches air right out of Hange’s lungs.

He lets go of them just as abruptly as he pulled them in, and instantly - they lament the loss of his touch.

And it’s such a ridiculous, completely irrational thought - not only Levi is their friend, but don’t they touch on a daily basis? Aren’t they just as close - if not more - when they’re dancing?

But this feels different, somehow. It was technically unprompted, after all, Hange didn’t ask that of him.

And it’s this very thought that makes them question - why does Levi even go along with their crazy idea? Why a man as blunt as stubborn as he is, didn’t just tell them to fuck off?

With Moblit, at least, there were no doubts. He’s as loyal as they come, and on top of that Hange promised to tutor him in biochemistry to return the favor. With Moblit, there were no secret motives.

Does Levi have any?

Hange doesn’t know, and they hate not knowing, so they decide not to torment themself, not come up with any more ridiculous conclusions, and simply ask like– well, like normal people do.

And so, after yet another rehearsal, just four days before the contest, ask they do.

“So,” they begin, as they sit down to take a much needed breather. They feel too awkward, clumsy, completely out of their element, but Hange braves through, even going as far as to meet Levi’s eyes. “I know I asked a lot of you with this whole contest thing, and I know, you’re not exactly a shy type, so I’ve been wondering… do you want something in return? Maybe, my lecture notes, or–”

“No, nothing like that,” Levi answers. “I haven’t decided what I want yet, but…” he pauses, and for the briefest moments, for half a heartbeat, his eyes dart to Hange’s lips. They notice it, it’s hard not to, but– they don’t know how to feel about it. At least, their mind does not. Their body, however, feels like it’s caught fire. Their cheeks grow hot, their heart beats so, so fast and in their stomach - there is again that strange warm feeling. “Can I tell you after the contest?”

Levi’s voice is calm, level. Hange desperately tries to match it.

“You mean after we beat that pathetic loser?” they say with a chuckle that rings far too hollow. “Sure! You can ask anything of me!”

Their words, the easy promise echoes in their head long after they’ve said it. It still rings in their ears even as they go to bed.

Anything, they’ve said. And with seeping dread, Hange realizes they might really mean it.

_________________________

The last night before the contest is the toughest rehearsal they’ve yet had.

Hange’s moves are out of rhythm, uncoordinated, they’re either too quick or too slow. They’re completely out of sync with Levi, which hasn’t happened… since their very first session.

After one too many accidents of a stomped foot, a low growl rips out of Levi’s throat. He yanks his hand out of Hange’s grasp, marches to turn the music off and turns to look at them, eyes fiery and far too dark.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you that nervous?”

“No!” Hange quickly lies, averting their eyes from Levi’s too intense gaze.

But he lets them have none of it. He’s by their side in an instant, and first - he pulls on Hange’s hand until they take a sit on the floor, then - he keeps hold of that same hand, snatching their right to pretend that nothing’s wrong with them.

“You realize that the world is not going to end if we lose to Zeke, right?” he asks, with far more softness than Hange thought he had in him. “Someone else might win the contest. And even if we do win and beat him fair and square, he’ll continue to be an insufferable dick. It’s not going to fix him, Hange.”

You are not going to fix him, hangs heavily in the air, and that– that makes Hange laugh. Because it’s not their goal, not at all, at least - not anymore. Perhaps, if they were honest with themself, they did want to get Zeke back. They’ve missed him for much longer than the jerk deserved. They’ve craved the exhilarating feeling of being cherished, understood and listened to that he gave them. But– it’s not what they want now. Or, rather - it’s not Zeke that can provide that to them. Now, they have an entirely different problem. A problem that came out of nowhere and doesn’t seem so easily fixed.

A problem in a shape of one Levi Ackerman.

They like spending time with him, perhaps a bit too much, like hanging out and exchanging silly jokes, like sharing lunches, like rambling to him about anything and everything and catching his gaze on them, knowing that he listens, even if he is not particularly interested in the topic. They like dancing with him too, a lot, but more than that - they like having him so close.

Levi is warm and solid, and so gentle that butterflies in their stomach often make Hange feel dizzy. And his eyes - that fascinating color they've always compared to steel in their head, in the artificial light and when they’re aimed at Hange, now seem like a sky on windy, chilly days that are best spent indoors with a cup of tea and an exciting book.

Only Levi’s arms are far warmer than any cup of tea, and he himself is far more fascinating than any book that Hange has ever read.

Levi is amazing, they’ve come to realize, and that realization feels like a brick that’s fallen on their head. Well, hadn’t he always told Hange that they’re a bit too soft in the head? He was right, perhaps. Perhaps, he knew Hange far more better than they knew him.

Hange chuckles softly at their silly thoughts, and, catching Levi’s confused glare, they smile at him and say, “I don’t want Zeke, not anymore.”

The rest of the rehearsal goes on without a hitch.

______________

The night of the contest is very different from what Hange imagined it would be.

There is just as insane amount of little hearts streaming from the ceiling as they expected, the public is as rowdy and cheers for their friends just as loudly, but what is missing is the thrill, the nerves, Hange’s very own clammy hands and wildly beating heart.

Instead of anxiety or anticipation, there is only a sense of melancholy that threatens to swallow them whole.

Tonight is the last time, after all. The last time that they’ll dance with Levi. And the last day that he needs to pretend to be their boyfriend and spend nearly all his time by their side.

They surely will miss it, they surely will miss Levi’s glares, his dry remarks, his blink-and-miss-it smiles, the warmth of his touch and the giddy feeling that being so close to him brought to them.

Everything will return back to normal after this night. Levi will return to his position as a friend Hange only occasionally hangs out with.

Too bad that now they wish to be someone more to him.

“Zeke looks even uglier with that beard. You definitely dodged a bullet there, four-eyes. Imagine kissing that face.”

It’s with a start that Hange turns to look at Levi. They haven’t realized he was standing so close to them. And they haven’t realized that it’s Zeke’s turn to perform now.

How laughable, they think, allowing themself a little moment of self-pity, they've spent so much time and effort to beat Zeke, and now they don’t even follow his routine.

But nothing is out of usual, is it? It’s just in their nature - jumping from one fixation to another and losing themself completely in it.

“Not even reacting to my jokes now? It’s pretty rude, you know?” Levi now inches closer, his breath warming Hange’s ear. Like that, it’s very hard not to shiver.

Like that, it’s very hard not to think how much they want him.

“Sorry,” they put as much conviction as they can but the chuckle still comes out incredibly forced. “I was just zoning out.”

“You looked sad,” Levi says, his mouth pulled in a displeased expression. “Is it because of–”

“Of course not!” Hange denies hastily. And just as hastily they take Levi by the hand. They don’t know even as they do it why they do it, but– Levi’s hand is warm and soft and fits right into theirs. And– he does not pull back.

That is enough for Hange to await their turn with a smile on their face.

____________

When their names are announced and they’re ushered onto the scene, the nerves do get the best of Hange, but - only for a fleeting moment.

They look away from the crowd, missing the smug smirk on Zeke’s face, they tune out all the cheering and applause, and focus only on the music and a man in front of them.

Gliding through the stage is easy when they know Levi follows them, that he will mirror their every step and move. Hange forgets about everything, lets emotions wash over them as they enjoy their last dance with him.

The music swells, coming to a climax only at the very end, as Hange, with all the dramatics they can muster and not breaking eye contact with Levi, dips him.

The song ends on a high note and the crowd’s cheering fill the silence instantly, and Hange is ready to straighten their partner, when something unexpected happens.

That unexpected comes in the form of Levi’s hand fisted in their tie and pulling on it until Hange’s face is inches away from his. The unexpected doesn’t stop there, and it blows Hange’s mind completely, when Levi crushes his lips against theirs.

The kiss is sudden - and that is quite an understatement - and it is sloppy, uncoordinated, their positions are too uncomfortable to allow it to be anything less than that, but none of that matters, none of that makes this moment any less precious to Hange. They lose themself in it, the world fading to the background instantly, but all too soon - Levi pulls back.

“I made you chocolate,” he whispers in the small space between their lips. “Be my Valentine?”

Quick and sure, without even a shadow of a doubt, Hange answers - by kissing Levi once again. They put too much force, too much feeling in it, and as a result, both of them end up in a mess of limbs on the floor.

The public dissolves into cheery laughter right away, and so does Hange, and after a quick beat - Levi joins as well.

He looks so handsome like this - with cheeks red, lips swollen and eyes sparkling. Hange can’t tear their gaze away from him, they don’t want this moment to ever end. It sadly does when one of the professors ushers them off scene with a strict voice and badly hidden smile. But Hange doesn’t let that small hindrance put their mood down. They help Levi get to his feet, clasp his hand tightly in theirs and lead him to a more secure place, away from the public’s greedy eyes.

That night, they don’t find out who won the competition. That night, they find themself preoccupied with far more pressing matters. That night turns out to be the very first one of the many, many more to come.

#you may wonder why is this fic set in february when it's already june?#well it's because it was in my drafts since january and only now i found the will to finish and post it #levihan

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certifieddorianandcassiansimp · 4 months

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Bryce Quinlan

okay. I don’t think I’ve expressed my dislike for the main female of Crescent City enough. Here are my reasons and a little bit of ranting and comparisons.

Bryce Quinlan is SPOILED. She always gets what she wants for the consequences be damned.

Bryce refused Connor for so long only to promise a date THE DAY she breaks up with her boyfriend and he dies.

She acts like Danika couldn’t have kept anything from her and continues to be hurt over it when she was a rebel. Danika had the right to keep things and didn’t do anything wrong.

She ignores everything, not just advice, but common sense. In HOEAB, she basically doesn’t listen to anyone who says anything to her, she also doesn’t shy away from literal demons trying to kill her. (This is a common case of MCS but still.)

she’s a terrible mate. This is shown mostly in HOFAS when she dismisses Hunt over and over again, when his fears are very much valid.

she doesn’t take responsibility. Bryce Quinlan murdered two Fae kings and basically said that she didn’t want the kingdoms and all fae should suffer except her small group of people because of her father. That’s petty.

She doesn’t have a sense of urgency, she turns everything into a joke. And yes I know humor is a coping mechanism but you’re seriously going to stand there and joke about dying to your mate? After treating him like shit, and saying you’d come back to him when you knew you were going to sacrifice yourself, that’s not okay. And yes I know that Rhys basically did the same thing, but he never made such promises.

She is too stubborn to talk about her feelings with her own mate. Her mate begs for communication when she doesn’t give it and expects Hunt to repress his feelings as well. That’s just toxic.

She practically orders the queen of the underworld to make an antidote for a problem that’s been here for about 15,000 years in about an hour. That’s just not realistic.

Those are some reasons in general, but now I’m going to ramble about the first half of HOFAS when she was with Nesta and Azriel.

10. Bryce KNEW she was leading a deadly creature to strangers who were allowing her to live and explore as she pleased. I can’t fathom how angry this made me reading it, not just for the beloved ACOTAR characters having to do it, but it’s just unkind to your very kind captives.

11. Bryce listened to the story of Silene (I think that’s her name) with Azriel and Nesta beside her, and still didn’t trust them. 12. Bryce joked around with them, trying to understand them, but kept herself guarded, while yes, knowing your enemy is a great survival tactic, you could tell they didn’t think of her as a threat. 13. Bryce Adeline Quinlan awakened an Asteri in Prythian (or the prison, idk it’s been a while since ACOTAR.) and she didn’t even know how to kill it. In fact, she couldn’t kill it. Nesta, her badass self, slayed the crowd and the asteri. (not a complaint but I have to add the part where Az legit says ‘stick em with the pokey end!’ Love that part.)

14. After (not) defeating the asteri, she STEALS Azriel’s dagger and LEAVES. One, she stole from shadow baby and that’s never okay, two, she didn’t have plans to return it, and three, she didn’t even know how to wield it.

I also feel like Bryce should have to give something that’s a part of her up. In Feyre’s case, she gave up being human. In Aelin’s case, she gave up 90% (if not more) of her power. But then you have Bryce Quinlan. Around 24 years old, all three parents alive (until book three), and has nothing sacrificed. She should be shot down.

Okay I think I’m done now. But I have to say that after all of this I’d like to point out that I love the Maasverse and Crescent City, but I personally think it would be best without Bryce Quinlan as the main character. Thank you for coming to my Blab-Tok, goodbye.

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jongbross · 9 months

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(hi ! 🥺 sorry for the bad english) you can do an exo!mafia au reaction, where they are mobsters and bump into their ex after they broke up because she found out he is mafia. they still love each other and want to be together, they are suffering apart? please💞 thanks, have a good day!

a/n: your english is just fine! my first language isn't english either, so don't worry. i hope you like it 🥺

xiumin: minseok is good at hiding his feelings, he did it all this time. he was a mess after you left, but you don't need to know that so he would probably try to play it cool, talking with you but never, ever showing what he's truly feeling. that's until you ask him "have you been okay?" - then his eyes will give in the truth. that's when he'll stutter to answer you, only confirming your suspicious. to someone who has been okay, minseok definitely agrees way too quickly to meet you someday so you two can talk...

suho: he's mature, that's for sure. no matter how shattered he was when you two broke up, he respected your decision and your space. still, junmyeon hurted a lot, so when he meets you again i think he will definitely try to come up at you and ask if you wanna talk to him, if it's okay for him to approach you (because deep down he's scared you'll reject him again). little did he know that you're suffering just like (or even more) than him.

lay: mobster or not, yixing is a softie. he will never admit it, but he cried after you left. when you two meet again, his eyes get glassy with tears the moment he lies his eyes on you, feeling like you were so close but so far away at the same time. the first move will have to come from you, so don't be afraid to approach him - he will love that. yixing doesn't think he deserves to be with the one he loves, especially after you left him for such a good reason, so he doesn't fight for you because of that. please bear with him, he misses you a lot but he just wants you to be happy with whatever you decide it's good for you.

baekhyun: the first thing he felt when you left him wasn't heartbreak, but anger; maybe at himself, at you, at life... but it was there. so, because of that, baekhyun is so petty once you two meet again. he's the one to come talk to you, but he's also the one who will sarcastically say "well, you're the one who left me...", only because deep down that's still a question for him. baekhyun wants to know that you suffered just as much as he did, because after all, the breakup was all on you, he never wanted that.

chen: another one who would be ANGRY. yes, he didn't tell you he was a mobster - that's not something you just tell people, you know? but he never put you in danger, he never brought work home, and you always claimed you loved him? how could you leave him so easily, then? so yeah, once you two meet up again, be ready to deal with the most stubborn version of jongdae you've ever met. he might be feeling like he can't live, can't breathe without you - but he he will never, ever admit that to you.

chanyeol: poor chanyeol couldn't focus on his work for weeks after you left him. he might be the only one from all of them to actually consider leaving the business just so he could be with you. when you two meet again, chanyeol will make it very clear how much you hurted him, how messed up you left him, but will also let you know that he absolutely understands you and why you don't agree with his line of work. he'd be the easiest to talk to and make up, though.

d.o: honestly? it's almost like he's heartless. kyungsoo loves you a lot, he always said he does, but the moment you questioned him about the mafia you planted a seed on his brain - "if they can't love me for who i am, then maybe they don't love me at all". of course, he felt bad and lost when you left, but he's also very logical and rational. so when you two meet again, you can cry all you want in front of him - it doesn't matter how much it hurts him -, the question will still be the same: can you accept him and his job? it all depends on your answer.

kai: oh, he's stubborn. he's very stubborn. his hyungs will tell him that it's okay if he's sad after you left him, but jongin will always deny it. he pretends like he doesn't care, but that crumbles the moment he meets you again - and it gets worse when you tell him you missed him. jongin is as needy as he's stubborn, so that's all he needs to hear to finally come through with his feelings and, then, ask you to come back because he's dying without you.

sehun: you have no idea how bad you've made sehun feel when you left him. sehun spent weeks thinking about how he can't have anything good in his life, but how he also can't leave his business now because he's way too far gone. when you two meet again, more than wanting to have you back, sehun puts effort into understanding if you're fine with his line of work, and making it clear that he loves you so much and wants to spend the rest of his life with you, and he will do everything in his power for this to happen.

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presidenthades · 5 months

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Once again, I am doing a series of my behind-the-scenes thoughts for The Golds while I do light edits for formatting, typos, and continuity. Here’s Chapter 5!

(Using the “Book of Clarence” GIF because I just watched it today.)

For this chapter’s title, I picked the Warrior lyrics from “The Song of the Seven” because toward the end, Jace has to pick up a blade (so to speak) and physically defend herself for the first time in her life.

Chapter content warnings also apply for this commentary, since we’re talking about the same topics.

Aegon seems like he’d be an oversharer when he’s emotional. Just get everything off his chest, either as a form of catharsis or in the hopes of receiving validation, or both. I feel like Aegon is capable of having an excellent poker face (useful for gambling), but TGC puts so much emotion into Aegon’s every expression that it makes me think Aegon chooses to wear his heart on his sleeve. Everyone has already made up their minds about him so why try to pretend to be something he’s not?

Jace doesn’t like being idle, and Aegon’s speech is very very long. So she keeps her hands busy, and her instinct is to clean up Aegon’s face 🥺.

I was debating whether Jace forgives Aegon too easily, since she was very upset earlier. But Jace is generally quick to forgive, and she now has the missing pieces of the story. The drafts I wrote where she continued to be angry at Aegon made her seem unreasonable, and she isn’t the kind of person to value a feast/public appearance over innocent lives. But she is the kind of person to worry about lot (at times unnecessarily), so that becomes the new thing she fixates upon. Aegon and Aemond were a bit reckless, and of course Jace is going to focus on the worst possible scenario that could’ve happened.

Aegon sees Jace as perfect and himself as the total opposite, so he blames himself instead of Jace. But Jace isn’t afraid to do some introspection and examine herself for flaws—in fact, she often thinks about what she did wrong and could do better next time. And because Aegon is an oversharer, she picked up on his feelings of being neglected, even if he didn’t explicitly state them, and she’s able to put herself in his shoes. So they have a little marital spat, as every couple does, but they’re able to work through it without dragging it out unnecessarily long. Neither of them is looking to “win” the argument, they just want to put it behind them and return to their usual state of contentment.

Jace’s line about Aegon not being a beggar waiting for scraps of her time resonates with him. A variation of it pops up again in Chapter 10 when he makes his resolution to play the game.

The “send me a note so I know where you are if you need rescuing” line is foreshadowing Jace’s kidnapping. She sends him a sort-of note in the form of the necklace she gives to the Garden girl Liane. And “that’s what guards are for” highlights how Jace isn’t a fighter. She’s a lady/product of her society and upbringing, and nobody—herself included—expects her to pick up a sword if there’s trouble.

I wanted Jace to explicitly say “I’m proud of you” because that’s the kind of validation Aegon lives for, and she knows his love languages. Honestly these two have a mutual praise kink

The original draft had Jace being jealous and telling Aegon to get rid of the brothel, but the jealousy ended to seeming kind of petty, so I deleted that bit. Jace doesn’t want her husband to own a brothel (people are always going to assume he’s patronizing his own business), but now that they’ve had a chat, she feels very secure in his affections. Also, when they have more time to think about it, I think they both realize that hastily offloading the brothel to the first person who’ll buy it could potentially go very badly; if the buyer is a nasty person, the girls there probably suffer. Hence, Aegon’s hands-off, “I’ll pretend it doesn’t exist” managerial style.

Jace is usually very self-conscious about her body, but this is an era where it’s normal for royals/nobles to be assisted while bathing and it isn’t sexual at all. So she mentally compartmentalizes it differently than, say, bathing with her husband. Aegon is aware of this, but he likes teasing Jace 😛. (I’m sure he actually has caught Sabitha, who supposedly likes women in F&B, admiring Jace a few times, but otherwise Sabitha knows how to be professional.)

Aegon genuinely cannot comprehend the idea of Jace being unattractive. Bless him.

When Aegon pauses over Jace’s stomach, he he realizes it wasn’t just Jace waiting for him tonight but also his unborn child. Jace’s earlier words about him endangering himself really hit him, and he has a little growth moment where he realizes he can’t just act like a reckless bachelor but has to think more about his growing family as he runs around the city.

Like most Targs, Aegon is officially raised as a member of the Faith but he doesn’t really believe in it. Meanwhile Jace does have sincerely held beliefs which are pretty standard for the time. It should be remembered that historically, religion was more widespread and important in daily life, and going to weekly services would’ve been the minimum expectation.

In the show, Rhaenyra is portrayed as not even knowing how to pray at age 14, which was an odd writing decision IMO. Religion is pretty engrained into medieval society, and Aemma is from the Vale, which is a region that strongly worships the Seven. So even if you argue that Viserys didn’t care much about Rhaenyra’s spirituality, I’m sure Aemma did. Rhaenyra doesn’t seem to believe in the Faith at all, but she can still perform the outward motions of belief while being agnostic inside. So in my version of events, Rhaenyra arranges the typical education for her children, which includes a septa (especially important to girls) and the in-world equivalent of Sunday school, even if she isn’t going to otherwise encourage them to pay heed to religion. But because Jace is a very good girl, she paid attention to all the lectures. Hence, Jace and Aegon’s very different reactions to his blasphemy.

Anyway, I hope I made it obvious with all the religious dirty talk and innuendos, but this smut scene is intended to show that Aegon literally worships Jace 😇.

Rhaena hasn’t heard about the Targbros’ adventures yet, so from her perspective, Aegon has miraculously managed to talk himself back into Jace’s bed after a colossal fuckup. No wonder she’s exasperated lol

Aegon doesn’t usually read for pleasure, but he’ll make an exception for trashy erotica 💋.

The garden party scene is an appetizer to how Jace and Aegon can work together to manipulate the courtiers if they’re so inclined. Most of the plan was Jace’s idea, but Aegon was definitely the one who suggested showing off the hickeys. And he ad libbed licking his finger 😛.

There was originally supposed to be a comedic sequence where the story of the Targbros’ heroics wins them a lot of fan girls. Since Aegon is married, most of the ladies begin obsessing over Aemond, who literally runs away from his admirers and at one point just straight up leaves for Driftmark for an extended visit. Alas, it didn’t fit in the chapter—but I might retell it from Aemond’s POV in the next fic LOL.

As Aegon starts hearing the petitions and doing more investigating, we see that he might not be as averse to duty/responsibility as he claims. He’s averse to feeling unappreciated, and since the smallfolk are very appreciative of his help, he keeps doing the petitions.

Aegon assumes that the Tyroshi does the reasonable thing and flees Westeros when he has the chance. Unfortunately, we shall see that the Tyroshi is not a man driven by reason.

Now that our couple have recalibrated so Jace isn’t overworking herself, Aegon feels less like he’s competing for her attention so he’s able to open himself up to impending fatherhood. A lot of his growth in this regard is a gradual process, not a huge eureka moment, and he’s still working on it when we get his POV again in Chapter 6. But he develops the new habit of communing with the baby because he wants to try, even if he still isn’t sure he’ll be any good at fatherhood. At the very least, he knows he doesn’t want to make his child feel neglected by his father, as Aegon felt growing up. And because Aegon spends so much time talking and singing to the baby, Cheeseball essentially comes out of the womb recognizing his father’s voice 🥹.

Aegon does still have some hangups. He acts a bit weird during the name talk because he thinks he would prefer a daughter. Similar to Laenor, Aegon thinks a daughter would be easier because in his mind, he’s imagining a mini-Jace whom he can spoil. Also, daughters tend to be raised more by their mothers and he thinks Jace would do great. But fathers are supposed to be more involved with sons, and Aegon thinks he’ll be a bad influence. So he’s still trying to wrestle with those feelings.

Gyles is NOT a good businessman. There’s no way he could ever recoup the costs of shipping cheese from the Vale just through selling pies. He’s lucky he found a royal patron 😂.

In an early draft, I had the baby’s name down as “Rhaenor” so it could simultaneously honor Laenor and Rhaenys. Then I started doing High Valyrian on Duolingo and I noticed there were words like aegion (iron) and rhaenagon (to find), which had the same roots as some Targ names. I developed a theory that the Targ names are supposed to have some kind of meaning, just like how our real world names have meanings (the High Valyrian creator David Peterson basically confirmed my theory on tumblr when I asked in December). So I began hunting through an online Valyrian dictionary for other roots. At first I wanted to use the word for gold, but that’s aeksion and I couldn’t think of a pleasant sounding name based on it. Then I stumbled across the words eleni and elenar, music and tide respectively, and that was PERFECT for a baby who’s part-Velaryon and has a daddy who likes to sing to them. And it sounds really nice! I played around with some name suffixes (Elenaron, Elenarys) but I liked the original word the best. I decided that instead of continuing to use the same dozen Targ names, or mixing up different name prefixes and suffixes, Jace picks a new name for her child which symbolizes that her reign/generation is going to do things differently, while still paying homage to their ancestors by continuing to use a Valyrian name.

The above then led me to exploring potential meanings for Jacaerys/Jacaera and Lucerys/Lucera. They’re supposed to be traditional Velaryon names, and Velaryon names seem to be mildly “corrupted” forms of Valyrian with some Westerosi influence, so I gave myself a little more liberty with picking origin words. I imagine Jacaerys/Jacaera as derived from jaes (goddess), which Rhaenyra picks after Laenor’s comment (and I guess it’s even more fitting with all of Aegon’s blasphemy and worship 🙈), while Lucerys/Lucera is derived from lyka (quiet, silent, calm). For our Lucera, it’s an ironic name because she’s the complete opposite, but Rhaenyra picked it because of lykiri (a dragon command we see in the show, “calm down”).

I wanted to emphasize Jace’s loving, pampered environment during the first half of the chapter. She’s in her element when she’s inside the castle, but if you take her out of her natural environment, she has no idea what to do. She’s also never truly been alone in her life. She’s always with her husband, family, or ladies, and even if she’s alone in a room, there are plenty of guards and servants nearby. When she’s kidnapped later, it’s the first time she actually has to figure out what to do with no help whatsoever. And she’s jumping from her life of backrubs and hot baths to walking alone in the rain with only one shoe.

The second half of chapter 5 was originally VERY different. It was actually supposed to start with Jace and Aegon having a Jasmine/Aladdin-esque “whole new world” adventure where Aegon shows her around the city during a weeklong festival, then later their siblings all want to join the fun, and it spirals into the Tyroshi grabbing Jace. I even wrote out the whole thing…and then I realized how idiotic everyone was acting 🥲. When you have Jace, Aemond, and Rhaena in the group, somebody would’ve mentioned how reckless the outing was, and I just couldn’t go through with all the Targkids being willfully blind to the risks of sneaking out to the city. Afterwards, there’s a scene with Viserys yelling at them all for being so stupid and endangering an entire generation of Targs, and then he decides to put 100% of the blame on Aegon. I actually really liked the confrontation between Viserys and Aegon, but I couldn’t keep the “family outing” plot, so I had to get rid of that aftermath scene too. I might be able to reuse it one day in another setting though.

Instead I went with the Sept outing in the final version. Jace does everything right, but unfortunately the grippe (a medieval illness that was probably the flu) strikes the entire Kingsguard. I’m a firm believer in writers being able to use luck/coincidence to get characters IN trouble (as long as it’s believable, and it’s super easy for the flu to spread among seven dudes living in a frat house!, but not out of it. And this definitely gets our characters in trouble. Without the grippe, Jace still would’ve had other guards at the sept, but a Kingsguard would’ve been in charge and more competently handled the bathroom trip. Instead she gets a less experienced knight, whom Viserys picked to be in charge probably because of a combination of vibes and politics. The Grand Sept is a normal and frequent destination for royal outings, and Jace is very popular with the city’s people, so nobody is expecting trouble.

I invented Maiden and Mother’s Day as a two-day holiday, so that there’s an explanation for the Tyroshi being able to suss out Jace’s plans. On day 1, he observes the guards not following her to the septas’ quarters and figures out she’s likely to repeat the pattern on day 2; it’s pretty common knowledge that heavily pregnant women need to use the bathroom often. And I added the growing crowd of beggars receiving alms to show that Jace’s outing is far from a secret from the public. On the contrary, in addition to the religious stuff, it’s another PR opportunity.

I kept Sabitha and Rhaena back from the outing, because all six ladies really would have been too much for the Tyroshi and his henchwoman to overcome. Also, Sabitha canonically takes up arms during the Dance, and I think she would’ve walloped the Tyroshi. Rhaena isn’t a fighter, but her presence alone would’ve impacted the odds, and her absence allowed me to play with some tension between her and Jace later. (And yes, Helaena was getting some bad omens about the outing. But as I’ve said before, I think her visions operate on vague vibes, so she knows something bad is coming but not what exactly it is.)

The Garden madam doesn’t immediately leave Westeros because she’s lured into a false sense of security after the Targbros raid the warehouse. She’s taking her time planning her trip to the Summer Islands or wherever she wants to retire when the Tyroshi—who’s pretty cunning and knows she snitched on him—leaps back into her life and takes her brother hostage. Considering how brutally the Tyroshi has killed other people in the past—and she has firsthand knowledge of Daisy—she’s too afraid to risk angering him further by trying to report to the Targs or anything like that. And she is very close to the bottom of society; really poor smallfolk like her don’t think that royalty are going to pay any attention to them, even if she wanted to try sending a message. So she’s just in this to try to save herself and her brother. All the descriptions about her odd behavior and cosmetics are to foreshadow that something isn’t right, and she’s not a normal septa.

I got snarky feedback from someone who thought it was stupid that the Tyroshi didn’t immediately kill Jace and that the ladies didn’t immediately scream for help, and apparently they were hoping for a red wedding scene 💀. Idk about other people, but if I were reading a fic tagged with fluff, comedy, hurt/comfort, and “detour into drama and angst,” I would honestly be quite mad if one of the narrators/ship characters/a pregnant girl died horribly on screen, and there was nothing in the tags or chapter notes to warn for it. ANYWAY, here’s my unnecessarily long rebuttal of that reader’s feedback about my characters 😇.

The Tyroshi’s goal isn’t to assassinate Jace, it’s to get revenge on Aegon, against whom he’s developed a vendetta. He is a sadist and sociopath. This was already seen in how he treated Old Willow and Daisy in Chapter 4. Instead of just killing them, he drew out their deaths with horrible torture and abuse. His plan to take Jace so he can extend the torment Aegon feels is in character with what little we know of him so far, and we haven’t even gotten to the convos with him in Chapters 6 and 7. Sure, he could’ve just slit Jace’s throat and that would’ve been ample revenge against Aegon. But if he’s going to go through so much trouble to get his hands on Jace, he’s going to make it worth his time. And he’s very confident he’ll succeed, which he would have done if Jace didn’t have a secret weapon. Also, he quickly becomes interested in Jace as soon as he talks to her, so his desire to kill her goes down sharply.

As for the ladies’ reactions: like Jace, they’re all pampered girls who’ve never had to deal with real problems before. They’ve always had other people, like guards and servants, to deal with problems for them. This is a very shocking situation that they are in no way prepared for, and it’s natural for them to have have a moment where they’re trying to comprehend that Sara just died. This is definitely the case for Jace, who is initially too tongue-tied to do or say anything.

Why don’t they instinctively scream? I’ll address each of the girls below, but there are some answers that apply to everyone. There’s a saying “fight or flight,” but it’s more accurate to say “fight or flight or freeze.” All the girls are initially defaulting to freeze, and this includes their mouths/throats; their bodies/instincts are telling them to stay still and silent so they don’t draw more attention to themselves.

The Tyroshi “immediately” turns on Elinor, who has her inglorious moment. She acts as a selfish coward saving her own skin. I wouldn’t expect her to shout for help from the guards. She’s too busy hiding in the privy and praying the Tyroshi forgets about her.

Floris is 9/10 years old. She’s the youngest of the group, and she takes a lot of cues from the others. She has to be specifically instructed by Bethany to do something before she acts. Think of the bystander effect, and how in modern emergencies, it’s advised that you say “you [specific person], call 911” instead of a generic “somebody call 911.”

Bethany is the likeliest candidate to actually shout for help. If Elinor hadn’t run for the privy, I think that would’ve been Bethany’s next step. But because Elinor abandons Jace, Bethany switches from “freeze” to “fight” since she’s the only person left who can defend Jace (she doesn’t count Floris, who’s too little). I was also hoping that it comes as a pleasant-ish surprise to readers that Bethany actually takes her duty as Jace’s LIW very seriously when it matters. So even though Bethany is very scared, her priority is putting herself in front of Jace. And even though we the readers might be thinking, “This is a logical opportunity for Bethany to shout for help now,” I think most of us overestimate how logical and capable we would be in an emergency. Bethany is only able to think one step at a time, and those steps are 1) protect Jace 2) send Floris to get help. Only after Floris fails does she think of 3) shout for help, when it’s too late.

TLDR all the ladies are acting like the scared girls they are. Everyone reacts differently in an emergency, and it’s easy to provide armchair commentary of “but they SHOULD have done this instead” when the truth is most of us would also probably freak out and act irrationally ☺️.

Notice how the Tyroshi addresses Jace as “Princess Targaryen.” I’m sure he’s learned her name during his surveillance, but he sees her as Aegon’s princess rather than her own person, hence the impersonal address.

Jace’s good manners are so engrained into her that she defaults to using them while in survival mode. And honestly it probably saves her life. If she were rude or mouthy, like Baela, the Tyroshi probably would’ve killed her much faster. Instead he’s intrigued by meeting the epitome of a well-bred princess.

Confession: I originally had Cheeseball kicking in the womb when the Tyroshi touches Jace, which meant the Tyroshi was the first person to feel the baby move. Then I got really angry at myself for writing that, so I changed it and made Aegon the first person to feel the baby in Chapter 6, as he deserves ☺️.

Earlier drafts had Jace conscious while the Tyroshi fled with her from the sept, because I wanted her to drop a trail of cedar beads from Joff’s amulets to help people find her. But if she were conscious, she would’ve tried VERY hard to escape the hay wagon or get passersby’s attention, and it would’ve been really dumb of the Tyroshi to give her that opportunity. So dreamwine and strangulation it is. I highly doubt dreamwine takes effect instantly, so I added the strangulation part to speed things up. I did think very hard about how strangulation can cause miscarriage, but Jace proves to be a lot tougher than expected, as does Cheeseball, and it’s not a guarantee of miscarriage. Now, I don’t know for sure if dreamwine plus a moment of strangulation would actually cause Jace to black out and remain unconscious for hours, BUT dreamwine is fictional and you can only google so many things about strangulation, so we’re just going to say it works.

Jace uses the dragonglass from Joff’s amulet for a girl-child. Jace is a girl, so in a way, the amulet’s protection works even though Joff had a different target in mind 🥲.

Initially, Jace is hoping somebody miraculously comes to her rescue, because she’s been raised to expect that someone will always be around to help her. But it’s just her 🥺.

The Tyroshi’s inspection of Jace’s features is intended to be very uncomfortable and to show that he sees her as an object, albeit one to be admired. He compares her features to various Tyrosh-related things because he’s already thinking about bringing her back to Tyrosh, so he’s kind of justifying it in a “she clearly belongs in Tyrosh” way.

In case it isn’t clear, he wants her gown because he intends to wrap the baby in it for Aegon to find 🙁.

The Tyroshi has decided he enjoys cosplaying as a courtier and princess engaging in courtly love/romance, hence his very polite mannerisms. Jace senses this is what he’s up to so she plays along.

The Tyroshi is convinced he can keep Jace alive (as he says, he’s done this before), but it is REALLY dangerous for Jace to have moon tea so late in pregnancy. In ASOIAF, Lysa Tully almost dies and has fertility issues when she’s forced to drink moon tea, and I suspect she was earlier in her pregnancy than Jace. So even if Jace survived (big if), her health would never be the same. (Would be an interesting succession crisis issue, but I can’t bring myself to write that AU.)

Laenor in the afterlife is so happy that his advice about rivers helps save his firstborn 🥹.

I just want to point out that it’s REALLY fricking dark where Jace is. There’s absolutely no light other than the occasional lightning, and the light pollution from the city is minimal since we’re in an era where lighting at night is expensive and firelight only. Girl is operating on hopes and prayers and thoughts of her husband right now. TBH if I were in her place, I’d just give up and cry 🥲. But even though Jace is pampered and gentle, she’s surprisingly resilient, and she has her baby to think about. I mentioned earlier that Jace has never truly been alone before until now, but she actually has Cheeseball to keep her company, and I think that helps her keep going until she reaches civilization.

#my writing #meta #house of the dragon meta #hotd meta #fanfic meta #aegon ii targaryen #female jacaerys velaryon #the golds

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msweebyness · 2 months

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Myvan May Mirrorverse Snippet- Post-Mylene Crossover

Hey y’all, it’s Weeby, with my second piece of Myvan May content! Enjoy some bonus bits me and Sparky did for the Mylene Mirrorverse crossover! @imsparky2002 @artzychic27

The Villains…

Growling in anger, Ivan Oogie stormed out of the room with Mylensula, still unconscious, cradled in his arms. Ms. Warrior Princess (she was definitely on his list, he could still feel the sharp, insistent pain in the back of his neck) had said she would wake up soon, but like hell if that made him any less furious! How dare that little twit pull a stunt like this?! Knocking his girlfriend out without so much as blinking! She was going to pay for this, if it was the last thing he did!

It was at that moment that he felt Mylensula shift in his arms, and he looked down to see her eyes fluttering open and looking around in confusion. After a moment, she seemed to get her bearings and reached up to rub her forehead, where a bruise was starting to form. (She must have hit her head on that table pretty hard…)

“Darlin! Are ya alright?”, Ivan Oogie asked, emotion filling his voice, as his hollow eyes were full of concern. His sea witch gave him a reassuring smile before she furrowed deeper into his chest.

“I’ll be fine, Spookums, don’t worry.”, she placated him, resting a hand on his chest, before a scowl crossed her lips, “I just can’t believe that pathetic little treehugger pulled something like that!”

“She ain't gonna get away with it, Pun'Kin.”, the teen boogeyman snarled, his bugs hissing with fury, “Nobody messes with you on my watch.”, he said darkly, before he kissed her forehead, “She's gonna pay, her and her freak!”

The tentacled sorceress giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck, a wicked smile entering her face.

“We'll make them suffer, my dearest. Every single one of them.”

The Heroes…

After the villainous lovebirds had left, with a heavy sigh, Snow Mylene sat down at the table with her hands fiddling in her lap. That had not gone in any way like she’d hoped. Was a simple, civil conversation too much to ask from these villains? Apparently so…

A soft smile crossed her lips as she felt a familiar pair of large, strong hands rest on her shoulders. Placing her own small, delicate hands over her boyfriend’s, she took a deep breath to relieve her tension before speaking.

“I really didn’t want there to be trouble. I didn’t mean to…”, the softhearted princess trailed off, unable to lift her eyes from the ground, “Maybe if I hadn’t…”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, songbird. That witch started it, trying to attack you. The only thing you did was defend yourself, and you didn’t even hurt her!”, QuasiIvan was quick to reassure his girlfriend, moving to sit besides her and allowing her to cuddle against his side, “You’ve got nothing to feel guilty about.”

“I probably shouldn’t have made that comment about her eels. I knew it was something that would make her angry.”, the petite royal said after a moment, the tiniest bit of shame at her pettiness creeping in the back of her mind.

“Knowing her, they would probably deserve it. I can’t imagine pets of hers being anything but rotten!”, the hunchbacked teen told his girlfriend, kissing her forehead before his expression grew solemn, “And don’t worry. If that oversized sack of fleas even tries to touch you, I’ll turn him into scrap fabric for Zoe’s clothing repairs.”, he said darkly, making the princess smile.

“We should probably get back to the others.”, Snow Mylene said softly, getting to her feet, only to squeal and then release a soft giggle as her boyfriend swooped her up in his arms.

“Let’s go, my princess.”, and with that, he carried her back to the rest of the heroes, all full of praise for her act of self defense.

And here it was! Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs!

#miraculous ladybug #Myvan may #mirrorverse #class of villainy #class of heroes #disney au #mylensula #Ivan Oogie #snow mylene #QuasiIvan

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verbenaa · 2 months

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to eden | chapter four

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: “Another compliment? Why, I’m going to have to start keeping count.” She’s pinned by his gaze like a butterfly on a board, unable to look away from him even if she wanted to, Astarion’s thumb brushing against her skin where he holds her chin.

“Feel free to write them down so you don’t forget.”

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Astarion/F! Tav

𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: E

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 6.6k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: mentions of previous sexual scenarios (minor descriptions), sexual tension, frottage? (kind of).

𝒶/𝓃: hello! I'm back with chapter 4! this chapter turned out way longer than I had initially planned, but I think it turned out well. hopefully it's a fun and enjoyable read, if nothing else! please let me know if i forgot any warnings, I'm posting this so much later than I normally do and my brain is not computing. I hope you enjoy reading and please let me know what you think <3!

ao3 here

masterlist

Waukeen’s Rest was, to put it lightly, a fucking mess.

Rin knew there was to be a first time for everything, however she would gladly pass on a second experience of running through a burning building in search of a certain Grand Duke by the name of Ulder Ravengard, who then had the gall to not be inside and instead have been kidnapped by a group of Drow and spirited away to…well, no one was quite sure yet.

She did manage to come out on top with the rescuing of one Counsellor Florrick, who it would seem was the next best thing to said Duke himself.

With a long suffering sigh, Rin couldn’t help but wonder how it always just so happened that everywhere they seemed to set foot, trouble somehow managed to appear as if summoned by some all-knowing, omnipotent force set on inconveniencing them.

Counsellor Florrick, all pointy ears and high slit robe with nary a hair out of place on her head, finishes her speech with little flourish, despite her begging of them to continue the search for the Grand Duke in a way that seemed quite no nonsense for a woman who had just been stuck inside of a fiery building on the brink of collapse.

“Well, Counsellor, I suppose we can add rescuing the Duke to our little to-do list. What’s one more task?” Rin gives Counsellor Florrick her most charming smile, hoping it will cover the latent sarcasm of the words. The last thing she wanted was one more task on their ever-expanding list, but alas, it would seem that their current path had other plans.

“Thank you. And should your courage falter, remember the Duke’s generosity.” And with that, Counsellor Florrick dismisses them with a turn towards her legion of Fists, doling out orders with enviable authority.

While Rin had little to do with the politics of Baldur’s Gate (or much of anything, really, unless it involved the frequenting of taverns or petty criminal activity) she wasn’t quite so dim as to have not heard the name Ravengard before and know of the weight it carried.

Rin’s mind briefly drifts under the weight of their growing responsibilities, and it’s the stench of burning hair that drags her back to reality—it wasn’t hers, was it?—as she grabs a lock of hair, bringing it to her face to inspect the ends for any singed pieces.

“I know he’s a Duke and all, but must we really rescue him?”

Rin shoots Astarion a pointed look as she drops the hair in her hands and turns, eyebrow arched quizzically. “Would you want to have been kidnapped by a group of angry Drow and taken off to Gods-know-where?”

The scowl on Astarion’s face is answer enough as he huffs, attention moving instead to flick at the tiny bits of ash clinging to his dark leather armor as he mutters under his breath something along the lines of ‘they better pay us for this’.

“I agree, it is the right thing to do. Perhaps if we are able to rescue Ravengard, he may be able to assist us in some way or another. Having the Council and the Fists on our side could prove useful.” Gale’s hand comes up to his mouth and his eyes narrow in consideration, the picture of a scholarly wizard deep in thought.

“Those tin buckets aren’t useful for much of anything, Gale,” Rin looks at one of the many members of the Flaming Fist wandering around the yard amidst the chaos. “But I do find the allure of the Grand Duke’s numerous connections and apparently deep pockets to be worth the trouble.”

Gale heaves a sigh at that but says nothing in defiance to Rin’s quite salient point, at least in her own opinion.

“Oi. Not to spoil the fun, but this thing on my back is getting heavy. Let’s get a move on and find the hideout, yeah?” Despite her complaint, Karlach looks at ease with the extra weight and it certainly wasn’t stopping her from running around and bashing through flaming walls and doors only moments ago.

And to think that they merely ended up here on the behest of a member of the Zhentarim, of all organizations, in search for their hideout to return a quite cumbersome chest currently in Karlach’s possession.

“You heard the woman. We can argue all about the merits of saving the Duke back at camp.” Rin gestures towards the grounds around them, tufts of grass still burning here and there. “Let’s get on with it, I’m sure the hideout will be full of delights.”

And with that, they search.

The entrance to the basement is embarrassingly easy to find once they actually begin to look, stepping over the charred wooden boards and still smoldering piles of ash strewn about the yard only to come across several too perfectly placed crates in front of a door, laughable in its utter simplicity.

“Karlach, would you like to do the honors?” Rin turns towards the Tiefling, who seems all too eager for the chance at more bashing, picking up the crates one by one before throwing them off to the side, bits of wood splintering as they collide with the ground.

Karlach wrenches the door open once the path is clear and Rin steps inside what seems to be a perfectly normal store room, eyes scanning the periphery before noticing the man crouching low behind a supply shelf, a summoned flame dancing as he cups it in a gloved palm.

Rin looks at the man expectantly as she gauges the threat he poses, not yet pulling the rapier from its place on her back, her eyes darting swiftly from the fireball blazing to life to the surprisingly shocked expression he wears.

Behind her, she recognizes the now familiar sounds of her companions—the quiet slide of one of Astarion’s blades being freed from a sheathe barely a whisper in the silence, the beginnings of an incantation waiting to be spoken into existence by Gale, Karlach’s fist tightening around her great axe as she readies a swing.

“Well, that’s not any way to treat a friend, now is it?” She eyes the fiery orb with a nod, the man’s own eyes flicking to it as if he had forgotten it was there.

“Th-that’s not the password!” The man seems ill-suited to such a job, as jumpy as he was, the fireball only growing larger in time with his apparent fear.

“Not one for conversation, I see. Fine then, have it your way: Little serpent, long shadow.”

The man seems instantly relieved the minute he hears the passphrase, flame sputtering out of existence as he stands upright. “Oh, Helm’s orbs. I thought you were the Flaming Fist.”

“We most certainly are not, I can assure you.” Astarion is quick to answer, his dislike at being remotely likened to a member the Fist palpable as he sheathes his dagger.

“Ah, well, anyway. The entrance is behind the wardrobe—here’s the key.” Rin accepts it quickly, eager to be done with this errand and wash her hands of it as soon as possible as they walk towards the wardrobe on the far wall.

Rin inserts the key and turns it, the lock clicking open audibly as the door swings towards her, creaking on its hinges. She peeks her head in, noting the ladder leading down into the depths much to her displeasure.

“A bloody wardrobe? What in the hells do they think is this, a book for children?”

Astarion isn’t exactly wrong, it was quite ridiculous.

“It’s a bit on the nose, I agree,” Gale adds in, anchoring his staff back to his back in preparation to go down.

“At least it’s more creative than a hatch in the floor.” Rin steps inside the wardrobe first, turning around to begin her descent as she steps onto the first rung, lowering herself down.

Karlach audibly moans, shoulders sagging slightly under the weight of both the chest and her axe. “Aw hells, don’t tell me we have to go down another ladder?”

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

The Zhentarim hideout left little to be desired with its dusty floors and cavernous ceilings and beady-eyed members watching their every move. While they may have been coined “Friends of the Zhentarim” by Zarys herself, Rin found the hospitality to be decidedly lacking in quality.

“Is it—“ Gale starts, eyes shifting side to side as he looks at their surroundings and the Zhentarim nearby, voice a whisper of trepidation. “is it wise to be stealing from thieves?”

“It’s rather unwise, I should think. But thank the Gods that we have such a powerful mage on our side should the worst happen.” Rin gives Gale a friendly pat on the back, hoping the flattery with soothe over any errant nerves he may have. “Besides, the danger is half of the fun. Isn’t it, Astarion?”

She turns to glance at where Astarion stands unbothered next to a small table, pocketing something small and shiny before looking up to meet Gale’s eyes with a wide smile that has the wizard loosing a breath of exasperation. “Oh, undoubtedly.”

“Alright let’s split up and search this place. Astarion, you’re with me. I want to see if there’s anything fun hiding around here.” Rin keeps her voice low. While they may technically be around ‘friends’, she didn’t trust a one of them. “Gale, Karlach: you two can do…well, whatever you want but try your best to not be suspicious, Astarion is good enough at that for all of us. I trust you’ll know if we get ourselves into trouble?”

“Don’t worry soldier, we’ll follow the directions of the screams when we hear them.” Karlach’s voice bellows out, drawing several sets of narrowed eyes their way.

With a last little wave in their direction Rin turns away to look around the hideout, eyes perusing the hustle and bustle around them before choosing a direction at random, not waiting for Astarion to follow as she sets forth.

“So, are we looking for anything in particular or are you just taking me on a little pleasure stroll?” She had only taken a few steps before Astarion’s voice reaches her, the vampire clearly not waiting more than a moment before trailing after.

Rin glances over her shoulder, amusement written over her features as Astarion catches up with light, graceful steps, easily matching her pace and he settles in next to her on the narrow pathway, linking their arms together as if they were a pair of lovers breezing through Bloomridge Park on a sunny afternoon.

Her feet catch on a rock and she barely manages to save herself from tripping over it in her surprise, eyes darting down to where Astarion’s arm loops through her own as he strolls casually next to her, perfectly at ease as his eyes drift around the basement in boredom.

She rights herself, ignoring the little smile of victory Astarion wears at her little stumble. “Do you take many of them down in the depths of the earth in dusty criminal hideouts with terrible security measures, Astarion?”

“I’m not picky if it means getting to spend a little more time with you, darling.” His words are far too smooth to be spoken in such a place, and Rin immediately lets out a soft laugh at the ridiculousness of them.

“Do you use that line on every Half-Elf bard you meet, or did you save it just for me?”

“Why, I would never reuse a line, darling. How dare you.” Mock outrage colors his tone, the arm not linked with hers dramatically crossing his chest to rest over the place where his heart used to beat.

“Such protest is a little much, don’t you think?” Rin glances at him out of the corner of her eye, his dramatics endlessly amusing as she tugs at the arm wrapped around her own. The closeness of his body is more pleasant than she would like to admit, the weight of his arm through hers easy and strangely comforting.

“It’s the perfect amount, I assure you. You’re insulting my art.”

Arm in arm they amble, dust blooming around their feet with every step as they wind through the basement, everything thoroughly unremarkable until they round a corner and come upon a rather large set of doors at the end of the chamber, several agents and a pair of fearsome wolves stationed in front of it with weapons at the ready.

“Well, well. I think we found the fun, don’t you?” Astarion looks to Rin as he waits for her answer, eyebrows raised in interest as he calculates whether the four of them could take the guards ahead.

“So it would seem.”

She spots a little enclave off to the side of the pathway, unguarded and perfectly placed for her to hatch a plan and poke around a little, the room just out of eyesight of the guards. It was unlikely anything of real importance was inside, but it what was the harm in checking when they happened to already be there?

With a slight pull, she leads Astarion to the room he had no doubt already taken note of and he follows easily, their heads held high with imaginary authority on show for anyone who happened to be looking their way.

The room is admittedly not much, Rin notes, as their eyes take stock of the several jars and baskets hiding away in the corners of the room and dilapidated shelves lining the walls.

“Plan?” Astarion looks to Rin, his deference to her opinion still a strange thing she wasn’t sure how to feel about quite yet.

“Give me a minute and I’ll think of one. Let’s look around in the meantime.”

Astarion’s arm drops away from hers with little preamble and Rin starts at the sudden absence of it—of him—as he saunters away towards the far corner of the room, beginning to rummage through a set of old, mouldering baskets sitting lopsided on the ground.

She shakes the feeling away as she walks towards a rickety table situated in the far corner underneath a set of the shelves, the warped wooden top covered with objects of little value—several letters, a copper ring long tarnished with spots of green and white, and a chipped knife with an ordinary wooden handle.

Rin lifts one of the letters off the tabletop, fingers quick to break the thin, waxy seal before scanning the contents. With a huff she tosses the parchment aside, gossip of who was sleeping with who the only information to be found inside.

With a glance towards the ceiling she rises up on the toes of her worn leather boots, an arm outstretched high above as she reaches for the precariously hung shelf above, a gleaming iron bottle sitting just out of reach of her fingertips as they disrupt old dust with every brush against the shelf.

“Oh, come on.” Rin’s feet leave the ground as she gives a little leap into the air to no avail, hand returning with a perfect coating of dust on each fingertip. She swipes her fingers across the table, leaving streaks of dingy white against the greying wood.

Astarion barely makes a sound as he crosses the dirt floor, and it’s not until Rin smells the now familiar scent of rosemary and bergamot fill the air that she realizes Astarion is behind her.

Before she can turn her head to look his way Astarion leans in towards her, the thick leather of his chest pressing her rapier into the space between her shoulder blades. Gauntleted hands find their way to her hips, settling on the soft swell of them as he runs his lips along the shell of a pointed ear, her breath catching in her throat at the feeling of his cool lips on her skin.

“Need some help, darling?”

He speaks in a dulcet tone that has a shiver running down Rin’s spine, irrepressible after visions from their shared escapade run across her thoughts, memories of that voice whispering far more scandalous things into her ear and those hands mapping every inch of her naked body.

Oh, how she had worried about this—that she had made some terrible, horrible miscalculation in sleeping with Astarion those nights ago.

And it seems that she may have been right.

It was already becoming almost impossible to look at him without vivid memories of their night together jumping out at her when she least expected it, a fact Astarion was all too pleased to make worse with every knowingly flirtatious look he sends her over his shoulder as he saunters about disarming traps and picking locks and aiming his bow; every subtle flick of his nimble fingers nothing but a reminder of how they felt gliding across her skin and pressing deep inside her cunt, every sardonic quirk of his lips sending images flooding into her mind of how exactly that mouth of his looked glistening with her essence as it busied itself between her legs.

She had thought—hoped—that scratching the proverbial itch would clear her mind and cleanse her soul of him, but instead it had only made her crave him more.

His words, his attention, all of it.

Rin swallows down a breath, her back held straight despite her traitorous body whispering its want to lean her weight into him and melt into his embrace. “I can figure it out on my own, I think.”

“You know, it’s an utter shame there’s so many layers between us.” His lips map the line of her jaw as he leans in further, the words fluttering across her skin as she revels in the feeling of his lips.

“So you could do what, exactly?” Rin doesn’t give him time to answer, spinning in his arms so that they could stand face to face, on equal ground. She leans her weight back against the table, Astarion’s hands still gripping around her waist as she raises her brow despite the blush she knows has already begun to spread across her cheeks.

“Do you need me to spell it out for you, darling?” Astarion’s mouth twists into an amused smile, eyes heating with the barest beginnings of lust as they flick down to watch as her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

His insinuation has the flush on Rin’s cheeks darkening, heat beginning to pool low in her stomach as she runs her gloved fingers over his chest and up, the touch so light she doubts whether he can even feel it through the thick leather he wears before wrapping them around his neck. “Maybe I’d just rather hear you say it.”

She tilts her head as her gaze flicks up to his own, her loosely tied hair swaying with the movement.

The motion captures Astarion’s attention, a hand coming up from her waist to run through the thick waves, the strands flowing around his fingers like liquid gold. With a frown, he gently tugs a tendril away from the rest, examining the locks before running his thumb over a soot-darkened smudge, expression unreadable as he wipes the darkness away with an uncharacteristic care that has her breath catching in her chest.

“I—thank you.” Rin watches him curiously, the heat Astarion had set aflame inside her changing, softening, as her mind works to put together the puzzle of the sudden tenderness of the action.

With a last, final brush Astarion lets the strands slip through his fingers, falling like water as join back with the rest of her sinuous waves. He brushes the soot staining his hand along the collar of his armor to clean them before moving them underneath Rin’s chin, lifting her face towards his own.

“I hate to see such pretty hair sullied.” The words have her heart skipping a beat in a way that has nothing to do with their earlier flirtations.

“Another compliment? Why, I’m going to have to start keeping count.” She’s pinned by his gaze like a butterfly on a board, unable to look away from him even if she wanted to, Astarion’s thumb brushing against her skin where he holds her chin.

“Feel free to write them down so you don’t forget.” Astarion lowers his head to her own, capturing her lips in an unexpected kiss.

His lips soft as her lashes flutter shut, Rin leaning into Astarion as he kisses her. She tightens her arms around his neck, bringing herself closer to him as she luxuriates in the simple feeling of his lips on hers.

This kiss is different than the others they’d shared, all desperation and urgency and hunger absent. It was a feeling that was all too easy for Rin to lose herself in, the lightness of his kiss and the strange affection she feels rushing into her chest as the outside world fades away to nothing as she focuses solely on him.

She feels his tongue brush against her lips, asking for entry which she is quick to grant, parting her lips for him eagerly. He tastes her leisurely as his tongue brushes against her own, a small noise escaping her throat at the feeling.

It ends all too soon, Astarion breaking away first as he leaves Rin panting, catching her breath as he drags his mouth away from hers to kiss a line up and over her cheek instead, working his way back towards her ear.

“Do you really want to know what I would do?” Any hint of lingering softness dissipates from his voice, replaced instead with that seductive tone perfected for one purpose and one purpose only.

Astarion abandons his earlier tenderness as ardent hands run down from her waist and over the curve of her behind, cupping her bottom in his hands as he pulls her hips closer to his own, slipping a thigh in between her own.

“Yes.” A terrible and familiar want pulses through her body as she whispers it, and in that moment Rin is quite sure she would let him fuck her here, however he wanted, if he so desired. She had left her dignity discarded next to her ruined underwear on the forest floor when she had let him do whatever he wanted then, too.

And it was a good thing she never had much dignity to begin with, she thinks, as Astarion draws a quiet gasp from her throat as his thigh presses hard enough for her to feel, even through all the layers of leather and metal.

“Well, that’s too bad,” He speaks low against her skin and Rin can feel the sensual smirk that he presses against her temple. “I think I’ll make you wait to find out instead, darling.”

Astarion’s hands squeeze her ass through her armor once before traveling back up to rest at her waist once more, the leg wedged between her own retreating back to join his other as he stands upright once more.

It feels akin to something like whiplash as Rin withholds a small noise at the loss of his very intentionally placed leg and from the pleased smile on his face she knows that he knows, Astarion no doubt reveling in her frazzled state and the blush that still sits high on her cheeks.

“You’re impossible, you know that, right?” She swallows before letting out a breath, forcing the want that pulses deep in her body to melt into nothing as she shoots him a look.

“Darling, I count on it.”

She needed to get this back on track before he find other ways to tease her, and Rin had no doubt that if given the opportunity Astarion would find other ways.

“Astarion, what do you think it is they’re hiding behind that suspiciously large door over there?” Rin looks over his shoulder, fingers carding through the curling locks at his nape as she shifts the focus with as much grace as she can manage, still feeling the residual heat that Astarion had left simmering. He’s still so close to her, his body pressed up against her own as his arms rest comfortably around her waist.

His smile turns vicious at the thought, body suddenly humming with an anticipation that she can feel in the lines of his neck. “Do we go in with blades out or no? It’s been awhile since we’ve killed anything and I’m getting antsy. It’s your call, darling.”

“Oh, keep it in your pants, Astarion. It’s unbecoming.” She hazards a glance down, his armor hiding anything he may have on display much to her disappointment.

“How strange, I don’t remember you saying that the last time I had my arms around you.”

He was far too amused by his own cleverness judging by the delight evident in his eyes, Rin’s own rolling in response. “I was talking about your knives, obviously. Now, shall we go see if there’s anything for you to kill?”

“By all means. We should get going then, yes?” Astarion keeps his eyes locked on Rin’s as he reaches up above her, effortlessly grabbing the potion she had been reaching for all along off the shelf with quick fingers.

He dangles the bottle above her head just out of her reach, the opaque crimson liquid inside swishing from side to side as he takes a graceful step backwards out of the circle of her arms, taking the potion with him with a victorious smirk.

“Astarion, don’t you dare!” Indignation alights along Rin’s face as her mouth opens in disbelief, arms propping themselves on her hips as he deposits the potion into his pouch before gesturing towards the doorway with an outstretched hand.

“Lead the way, dearest.”

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

It had turned out, in fact, that the Underdarkis what lay in wait behind those overlarge doors fitted into the stone of the wall—a giant, wooden lift ready to take them down, down, down into a world of darkness and luminous grace Rin had only ever heard stories of.

Gruesome stories.

Rin suppresses a shiver as she makes her way out of her tent in wonderfully fresh clothes, every smudge of soot cleaned away by a nearby stream, the smell of ash and burning wood rinsed and replaced instead with scented oils of jasmine and honey diligently rubbed into her sun-warmed skin.

The moon rises above camp, a whisper thin crescent half covered by hazy clouds drifting slowly across the sky as Rin steps out of her tent in search of her dearest companions and even dearer bottles of wine.

But as she takes a step towards the roaring fire a small flash of silver catches the corner of her eye, her head turning at the brightness of something like quicksilver as she pauses mid-step to take stock of what exactly it is she sees.

There in front of his tent stands Astarion, hand held aloft as he turns an ornately decorated hand mirror to and fro, staring into the mirrored glass with an expression that can only be characterized as troubled.

The sight of such a look of distress on his face has Rin padding over the ground towards him, feet moving across the softly trodden grass before her mind allows as her inquisitive nature gets the better of her once again.

Her own image grows larger in the mirror as she nears, though something very obvious is missing from the scene, the space where his features should be next to her own in the glazed oval empty.

His reflection was missing. The realization dawns on Rin as she comes up behind him, her mind turning with the knowledge.

“Looking at something?” He calls out to her before she has time to think any further on it, Astarion angling the mirror towards her as he waits for her answer.

“I’m looking at you. What exactly is it that you’re doing, Astarion?” Rin smiles at the mirror, the curving of her lips perfectly captured as she tucks an errant curl behind a pointed ear.

“I’m looking too, but not seeing very much.” Astarion heaves a heavy sigh that has her taking another step towards him as he turns to face her, Rin’s own smile faltering at the sound of it. “Another quirk of my…affliction.”

Ah. She had often wondered where the line between fact and fiction regarding vampires was, the stories and myths numerous and often incongruent between one another.

“Do you miss it? Seeing your own face?” The words are out before she can hold them back, the honesty of them less finessed than she would prefer as she winces at her own curiosity.

“Preening in a looking glass? Petty vanity? Of course I miss it. I’ve never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red.” His mouth downturns in upset, bitterness coloring the words as he spits them out and his eyes narrow in obvious dismay. The sight of it has her heart constricting in her chest, the thought of what was yet another thing taken from him one she does not relish adding to the list of the ones she already knows of.

Rin was still unable to fully reconcile the many horrors he had faced, the things he had confided to her of on their evenings sitting together under darkened skies in the moments when peace was unwilling to allow either of them a reprieve from reality—he with his endless mending and she with her scrawling words on paper, a bottle of wine shared between them by the warmth of the fire.

And then there were those scars she had seen on his back that morning, his arms outstretched towards the sun as warming rays of light beamed down onto his marble-pale skin, face upturned towards the light, expression a lesson in misery for the mere moment she was able to glimpse it before he realized she had awoken and put his ever-present mask back in place.

Rin was thoroughly unsure of how exactly to categorize Astarion—a companion, certainly. Maybe a lover? Perhaps even a…friend?

But one thing she did know was that seeing such open distraught on his face, that bitter discontent taking hold of him, has her heart aching more and more with every piece of his misery she collected.

Rin didn’t have terribly many skills, but if anything she was talented at two particular things: amusing people and angering them.

She’ll just have to hope that amusement wins over anger.

It was, at the very least, one surefire way to take his mind off of his plight.

“I suppose you would be the type to have lovingly gazed at your own reflection.” She gives an overdramatic sigh, mimicking him as best as she can with a sly smile. “Though it may be for the best. I hate to say it, but you’re not exactly aging, well…gracefully.”

It gets Astarion’s attention, if nothing else.

“Aging?! What do you mean ‘aging’? I’m a vampire—forever young. And an Elf, for that matter!” Outrage blooms across his face as he stares at her, open mouthed and horrified, a hand coming up to touch the skin in question as he searches for evidence of wrinkles.

Rin should have known that anger would triumph over amusement, but thankfully this is a hurt she can soothe with words that come far too easily for her own comfort.

"I’m teasing, Astarion. You look great. You always do, I promise.” She laughs as Astarion blinks once, twice; his building anger rapidly disappearing as he puts her words together and lowers his hand.

“Oh, really? Anything in particular?” Astarion turns around a slow, dramatic circle with the mirror still in hand as he eyes her, a small smirk already back in place as he shamelessly fishes for a compliment.

Rin leans in towards him, letting her eyes run slowly over the features she never allows herself to look at so openly and without reservation, her gaze flitting from his soft curls to his expressive eyes before moving down along the bridge of his strong nose to rest upon expectant lips waiting for her reply.

“I am quite partial to that dangerous smile of yours, I must admit.” Her eyes drag back up his face to meet his eyes once more before adding mischievously, “Your eyes aren’t half-bad either, I guess.”

“My eyes aren’t half-bad? Gods, I would have thought you’d be better at this.” Astarion huffs out a breath of annoyance despite the curling of his lips upwards with something like enjoyment as he gives Rin a dismissive wave perfectly punctuated with a roll of his eyes. “Now, just tell me I’m beautiful and we can call it a day”

“Oh? Is it just shallow praise that you want, then? No poetic metaphors for your hair or long-reaching similes to describe the exact shade of your eyes?” Rin could easily list them, all the things about him she finds beautiful from the elegance of his features to the quirks that had been growing on her each day she spends in his presence, but she doesn’t.

It would be too much to lay her cards out on the table so readily like that for him to devour right in front of her.

“Hardly. There’s also gold, sex, revenge—quite the list, really. But failing any of those, I will always settle for shallow praise.” He counts them out on long fingers, that clever little smile of his still perfectly in place on his lips.

“Well, I think I can facilitate at least two of those things for you.” It’s an easy offer for Rin to make, the flirtation obvious.

“Not all four? Where’s your vision, darling?” The sound of him teasing her is music to her ears, the morose words of minutes ago long gone.

“I could have said your skin was wrinkled like an old woman or that you had an unsightly mole, you know. Be glad I was at least truthful.”

Astarion crosses his arms in front of his chest as he looks at Rin with reproach. “You’re a little menace, you know, what with your teasing.”

Rin preens at him, her smile wide as she flutters her lashes prettily. “You know, I came across a wonderful vintage earlier today, I’ll give you a little taste. Think of it as…a reparation.”

She slowly backs away, taking step by step towards the roaring fire behind them as she beckons Astarion to follow her.

“Such charity from our fearless leader.” He sighs but smiles nonetheless as he trails after her for a second time that day. “Fine. But I want more than just a little taste. Give me half, at least.”

“I’m sure we can come to an understanding, Astarion.” With that, Rin twirls around to face forward, golden hair illuminated by the growing fire against the darkness of the night.

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

It took only half a bottle of the wine she had promised Astarion for the idea to come to her, growing from nothing more than an inkling of a thought to a full-fledged plan in mere minutes, not even bothering to finish her portion before momentarily excusing herself from the center of camp to breeze back to the privacy of her own tent.

Rin sits on her bedroll with legs crossed, leather bound journal balanced precariously on a knee as a bottle of dark ink sits on the dusty ground next to her. Her quill scribbles the words onto the bound parchment as her lips move around silent words left unsaid earlier in the evening.

Dearest Astarion,

I feel as though apologize for my teasing, though I am somewhat unsure as to why (perhaps it is that wine, I told you it was a good vintage).

But if you insist on knowing what the world sees when they gaze upon you, I suppose you should hear it from me. I will be your mirror, and you may preen all you wish at your reflection within the looking glass of my eyes.

Shall I bore you with poetics? I did promise you metaphors and similes, after all.

I do wonder what you would actually want to hear about first. Would it be your eyes, with their pomegranate glow that alights in the darkness? Or would it be your mouth, the way your plush lips curve while those ever elegant hands of yours twist your blade right before you throw it.

Or maybe I should tell you about the way your hair curls perfectly into the loveliest little wisps around your ears, the color of the freshest snow.

Rampant poeticism aside, I think you’re beautiful.

It wouldn’t become you to forget such a thing, so I guess I will have to be the one to remind you then, won’t I?

- Rin

She blows at the glossy ink, careful to not disturb the still-wet letters. With hasty fingers she rips the page from the journal, folding it thrice before using the wax from a nearby candle to seal the letter.

The thought wouldn’t leave her alone—maybe she should have told him of all the things she finds beautiful about him because maybe he deserves to know them after all he’s been through. Her letter can be her small kindness to him in a world where he has not had much.

Maybe Astarion wouldn’t even read it, choosing to burn it to cinders instead. But it was worth a try. She had already written the words, anyway.

Holding it between two quick fingers, she exits, using every bit of the stealth she possesses to work her way around the edge of camp towards Astarion’s tent, the subject of her little mission blessedly still sitting on the outskirts of the fire as Wyll regales the group with colorful tales befitting of the Blade of Frontiers.

Rin places the letter on top of the same silver mirror sitting face down on his side table, its shine reflected in the moonlight. She has no doubt that Astarion and his ever-observant eyes will notice it the moment he returns to his tent for the evening.

Satisfied, Rin wanders back over to the warmth of the fire, picking up a new bottle of wine and bringing it to her lips with a pleasant smile as she sits next to Shadowheart, falling back into the conversation with an easy grace.

The moon is low on the horizon when she finally makes the walk back to her tent for the evening, her companions all long since retired; the impeding trek down into the depths of the Underdark looming above her despite the wine that swims in her head.

With a yawn she shoulders past the flap, stripping off her pants and not bothering to change her tunic as she plops onto her bedroll, stretching her arms high over her head. As she turns to reach for the glass decanter of water next to her bedroll she spies it: a small, rectangular piece of paper wedged underneath the chipped ceramic mug, the fresh flowers leaning slightly to one side.

Rin carefully removes it from its hidden spot, fingers brushing over the smooth vellum as she unfolds it to read.

The response contains only a few words, written in a scrolling script indicative of one person and one person only, though he leaves no signature. Her eyes scan the letters, piecing them together as a smile alights her lips, a tiny noise of joy leaving her mouth as she reads.

Don’t make promises you can’t keep, sweet thing. I have 200 years of my reflection to catch up on, after all.

#astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female tav #my writing #astarion bg3 #astarion #Astarion fic

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aita-blorbos · 8 months

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AITA for vehemently hating a beloved hero?

I (???, M) am not your usual lifeform. You could say that I'm similar to clouds. Despite being similar to clouds, I also somehow have an eye that allows me to see. I'm capable of raining down lightning bolts.

The first time I fought this stupid hero (???, M) was a very long time ago. I don't even care to be courteous enough to allow this imbecilic thing to be referred to with an initial, I hate him that much.

I really wanted to beat him in a fight. But instead, he beat me. He humiliated me. It made me so, so angry when I had to accept the fact that I was bested by this dumb kid that's somehow incredibly powerful. I know it might sound petty to be hating on a child, but I do not give two cruds... HE MADE ME TOO EMBARASSED!

I tried to fight him again as revenge. But he beat me again. It made me even angrier, it made me want to keep plotting revenge.

But as I kept fighting him again and again, I never won. He keeps kicking my butt every time, humiliating me every time.

Curse that insufferable, overrated hero. He can go sit on a cactus.

I'm also quite influential, by the way. I've been depicted in art by a well renowned young artist. Apparently, I've heard stories where she was mind-controlled by some evil force, and summoned art versions of me that got destroyed by that same unbearable, dreadful hero.

... Makes me want to find that evil force to combine with them, if that's what it takes to finally triumph that little cretin once and for all. But even then, I doubt it, because of course he'd probably still win anyways. For crying out loud... can he EVER lose?

I've never given up fighting him, by the way. I know I should probably stop, but UGGGHHHH... I just don't care. I hate him too much. I want to finally beat him, and so I never give up. I will never stop being mad.

There's tons of variants and branch-offs of me, showing how influential I am. It shows that some people do support me in trying to finally stop this awful, insufferable hero. If I have to be the most evil thing ever while trying to fight this stupid kid, then so be it!

Sometimes in my fights with this dumb turd, there's smaller versions of me that try to help. I like to consider them my children, due to how close they are to me and how loyal they are to me in trying to fight the same enemy. But sadly, they don't help much, and that atrocious kid has the gall to kick their butts too! It makes me hate him even more. It builds enough hate in me to keep fighting, even if I darn well know that it's to my detriment. I... simply... don't care!

Surely, this intolerable, detestable and aggravating hero must know how much I hate him, right? He's gotta realize it by now.

...Did he think I'd forget? The time he smashed me with his high jump? That time I was betrayed by ones that were supposed to help me! Or when I was replaced by that mechanical knock-off of me! I-I... sniff... there's something in my eye.

AITA, despite the pain and suffering I go through?

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

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lapidaverunt-scriptor · 2 years

Text

Dating Jason Todd Being Dick Grayson's Ex-Girlfriend (Part 2):

Warnings: Slang words, light smut, y/s/n = Your surname

If you haven't read part 1 click here -> Part 1

(You can actually read part 2 without having read part 1 but you will miss important context)

- You noticed a strange behavior coming from Jason, you looked for answers but he said it was no big deal

- Jason's head was a mess, he had already concluded that Talia sent those pictures to make him suffer, but what did she gain from that?

⦁ He obviously knew that you and Dick had sex, you had almost 3 years of relationship, neither of you were asexual so it was obvious that you two would have sex eventually; but that didn't stop it from making Jason angry

⦁ It sparked an insecurity that Jason thought he had gotten over, losing you to Dick

- You assumed he wasn't going to talk about what was bothering him, so you just gave him affection

- It really helped him, knowing that you still loved him made him calm in the face of this situation, but he remembered the pictures and it left him with a frown on his face

- A few days passed and you continued to notice Jason's strange behavior. You even considered asking the Batfamily for help, but your gut said it had nothing to do with them

- One day while you guys were out patrolling, you had to face some bad guys in physical combat, and when you took one of them down you looked at Red Hood as he hit three at once, and damn he looked so hot (he's always hot , but you understand what I mean to "say").

⦁ When he finished the fight, you could swear you felt the drool dripping from your own mouth, at that moment you could feel your pussy hurting because of him

⦁ He finally notices your lingering gaze on him, and says "enjoying the view?"

⦁ "Yes" you say approaching. Jason is a little surprised as in response to his cheeky comments he gets either an eye roll or a small laugh

⦁ You were already in front of him as you shamelessly take one of his hands to your chest "why?" You asked

⦁ "Why, what doll?" he asked back "Why are you so hot Hood" (by this point it was no longer a question) You replied as you jumped on him and wrapped your legs around his toned torso

⦁ You took off his helmet and revealed his handsome face like a domino mask, you threw the helmet on the ground and instinctively grabbed his hair and pulled him into a passionate, lustful kiss

⦁ Let your imagination flow (as long as your imagination takes you and Jason back to the shared apartment)[I'm only doing this to improve your imagination{trust it}, not because I can't write smut]

- As petty as it may seem after a little love he manages to rearrange his thoughts and think more about you, more specifically about how Talia violated your intimate space when she took those photos (not only yours but his brother's too) , this made him angrier at Talia

- He decided to tell the family about the photos (as embarrassing as it was), Talia was planning something, she wouldn't send the photos for nothing ⦁ He obviously told you first since when he told the family he wouldn't want you to be taken by surprise

⦁ Needless to say you felt violated (by what Talia did)

⦁ "Baby I'm sorry-" before you can finish the sentence he says "Doll, you have no reason to be sorry, you didn't do anything wrong"

- He told his family and as he expected it was quite embarrassing to have to explain how he knows Talia is planning something

- Do I really need to write how angry Dick was that Talia invaded his intimate space?

- After a while investigating, Talia comes to you and the surprise was big when she appeared with a 12 year old boy calling Damian claiming that the boy is Bruce's son

⦁ "Oh I'm sure he's Bruce's spawn, look at the plague look" Said Jason laughing lightly

⦁ Damian looked at Jason with a disgusted look "So you're the ragamuffin who dates Miss (y/s/n)" The boy says

⦁ "WHAT DID YOU SAY YOU LITTLE DEMON?" Jason spoke up

I know it's less than part one, but to be honest I didn't plan on doing part 2, but I didn't think the work was too bad, and I'm writing this at 2 am, I'm very likely to regret it when I wake up

#jason todd x reader #Jason Todd #jason todd imagine #headcanons jason todd #jason todd headcanon #light smut #batfamily #Dating Jason Todd Being Dick Grayson's Ex-Girlfriend #reader x jason todd #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #red hood #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you

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dearreader · 29 days

Text

hello fellow members of the tortured poets department.

i shall now enter into evidence the smallest man who ever lived and analyze it.

previous days:

fortnight; THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT; my boy only breaks his favorite toys; down bad; so long, london; but daddy i love him; fresh out the slammer+florida!!!; guilty as sin?; who’s afraid of little old me?; i can fix him (no really i can), loml+chloe et al. (part 0.5), i can do it with a broken heart

what can i say about this song that hasn’t been said? it’s a beautiful song about coming to terms with being used and hurt as well as the anger left over and knowing you’ll probably never truly be over it.

there are so many lines that help portray this. one of my favorites is the line “you stuck me on your wall with push pins”. because on one hand, if we follow the constant theme of science and hospitals and being experimented on, one could view this line as a bug or frog pinned to a wall, for decoration or dissection. (which ties into the fortnight music video and how the person she loved experimented on her). but if we look at it in connection to i can do it with a broken heart and taylor’s fame it can also be he stuck her on her wall like a poster. that he thought of her similarly to how we, fans of her, treat taylor. he created a version of her in his mind, a foreshadow to chloe et al., the girl of his american dreams that he said was the love of his life and played make believe and dolls like how the rest of the world treats her.

which can also tie back into the fortnight video. perhaps the two scientist were meant to represent us, the general public, and how we treat her. but he’s also there, watching as they torture her, another nod to chloe et al., and only pulls the plug at the last moment. but it doesn’t erase how he hurt her. and maybe that’s because he loved the idea he built of taylor that we all share but once he actually saw and touched her he realized it was fake. so he ended it, ended her suffering, and left her but only made it worse for her by causing longer pain.

but that can be a kinder interpretation. because as a whole this song is angry and doesn’t view him in a kind way. she asks if he hurt her like this because someone made him or he wanted information. because she can’t understand how someone can just hurt another person so casually like he did. by giving her a false hope and ending her six year relationship only to leave her high and dry after two weeks. which is why “and you deserve prison but you won’t get time” hits so hard because we all know a person who we consider deserves prison but will never serve because it either can’t be proved or it isn’t really a crime. or maybe in this case it’s that this man can still continue on with his life and career and receive little hate for what he says and does because he simple doesn’t care.

there’s a lot of layers and levels to this that are very self explanatory and are redundant of me to repeat. but all and all this song is so heartbreaking and the fact that taylor says “you didn’t measure up/in any measure of a man” is so petty of her and i love it. tell the world he sucks in bed and has a small dick.

anyway, fuck this guy. i hope he gets hit by a shoe.

#kelly babels #ttpdminutes #the smallest man who ever lived #song analysis

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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months

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I read your fic Anhedonia a couple days ago and lemme tell you IT STAYS ON MY MF MIND. How she gives him absolutely nothing and he’s begging like ‘wtf can I do to get a reaction, a sound, anything’ I’m hhhhhh; obsessed, to say the least.

So I just basically wanted to know what it was like for Ghost and how he reacted when he was finally able to catch her before her morning diddles and really get a reaction out of her?

(Please I’m hungry, I’ll take crumbs at this point)

Aahhh I'm so glad! That fic is one of the meanest things I've written 🫣 Crumbs below the cut!

As almost always in my stories, we only see reader's pov but it's quite clear Ghost is just smitten with this soldier lady.

When she gets injured, it rips Ghost apart because even if he appears cold and calculative, he wants to ensure that no one gets hurt under his command. It pains him as a leader to see that his subordinate came so close to death; it pains him as a man to see that the woman he has a soft spot for almost got killed.

We can see Ghost's true feelings in his behavior: he tries to protect her, visits her when she's recovering, asks how she is, mourns how hard it is to get to know her and quite literally offers himself to her. He actually begs her to become his sweetheart and pet.

But what does she do? She returns the favor by hurling insults at him, playing games with him, telling half-truths etc. I think reader in this story is almost like a woman version of Ghost: she doesn't show weakness, doesn't show her cards, is cold and even mean, keeps everyone at a distance... but on the inside, she's suffering. And Ghost sees that. I think in some way, he's trying to redeem himself by saving reader from her own cruelty.

So, when Ghost sees what her "trick" is and what a petty, stupid thing it is to do in the first place, he's riled. And not just riled; he's fucking PISSED.

Why the fuck did they have to go through all this fuss when all he wanted to do was cherish her and make her feel good? She could've just surrendered to his command, on the field and in the bed – everyone would've been happier! So why in the bloody hell did she make them both go through all this stupid bloody mess?

His reaction is summarized in this line: “-- he pleasures himself, angry as fuck and as relieved as anyone could be when they find out that their heartthrob is just a delightful little minx instead of a cruel, heartless woman.”

Ghost has tried to be nice and gentle with her, but she makes it so damn difficult. He finally retaliates when she’s helpless and leaves her on the bed in a degraded and humiliated state - he's been played long enough and thinks it's only fair that he gives her a taste of her own medicine for once. (A good call because it works like a charm!)

The SECOND she calls for him and shows some fragility, the minute those walls crumble, Ghost returns. That’s the actual shift in the whole story, I think. She finally confesses that he’s a good leader, and he returns her authentic kindness tenfold. The first time they share a bed together is not to have more mad sex but to have a hug, some cuddles and a civil, adult conversation. She falls asleep from exhaustion and relief, and Ghost couldn’t be happier that this firebrand of a woman has finally stopped fighting (because that means he can stop fighting too).

When reader wakes up, these two are finally able to meet each other without pretenses. I'm sure they will have the most emotional, intense, slow, sloppy, tender sex, perhaps even share a laugh or two! And I just know Ghost will tease her when she surrenders to him – literally lies under him while he pushes himself inside.

"Why did you have to be so bloody difficult," he might say, followed by "Could’ve had all of this days ago, you silly little minx..." And she can see he’s smiling because he’s lifted the mask just enough to kiss her in between the thrusts – and there’s no more competing, no one’s on their knees, there’s no mirrors and no toys, there’s just them being wholly present. She might answer something like "Guess I had to make you work for it…?" (which of course turns Ghost into a grunting puddle, but this time, he’s not angry, only very much in love ❤️)

#answered #anhedonia

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thefirstknife · 2 years

Text

Narrative, lore and abuse

I want to talk a little bit more about the constantly repeating ideas about how Destiny used to be better, how the lore is constantly being retconned and how writing was better before. Not only are these sentiments entirely factually incorrect (and I'm currently working on a project to document 8 years worth of reviews, opinions and comments about Destiny to show that no, people really didn't enjoy vanilla D2 or D1 as much as they think they did); the sentiments about lore, supposed retcons and mistakes as well as ideas that it used to be better and that original visions were better are all ignoring a very real and very serious troubled past that came with working at Bungie over the years.

Specifically, I think a lot of people forgot about this article. It's an in-depth review into the hostile work culture and crunch at Bungie, focusing mostly on the troubles that the narrative team went through. The snide comments about how Bungie doesn't know their own lore and how they don't pay attention to details and how they changed certain things over time really ring as petty and hollow when they're put into context of what the employees were going through. I want to remind people.

This article was also not debunked by Bungie and they instead acknowledged it and apologised. In case there are people who think that these devs were exaggerating their reports. They did not.

To start:

There is seemingly no better microcosm for Bungie's historic, company-wide cultural troubles than its narrative team, which has experienced toxic leadership, issues with crunch, and at times unmanageable separation between ideas of ‘Old Bungie’ and ‘New Bungie’ culture, and more — all within the last five or six years.

The narrative team had it worst. This basically plagued the entire development of Destiny.

Several sources spoke of a narrative team lead from that time who appeared to suffer massive burnout during the project, creating an increasingly toxic work environment for others on the team, enough so that team members kept a countdown of days since his last "explosion" on a whiteboard. Many people I spoke to were familiar with a story of him throwing a chair at a window because he felt others were ruining his creative vision of the game.

And:

Some sources who had encounters with him during this later period said that he would frequently issue narrative direction despite no longer being a senior team member, and would become angry when he felt the Destiny 2 writers were deviating from his original vision for Destiny 1. One source told a story of him yelling at her over the phone so aggressively that she was brought to tears, and she subsequently refused to be on phone calls with him without a third party present.

I want people to really read this and commit it to memory. A narrative lead was so toxic that it led to actual physical violence. A narrative lead that was physically explosive over people "ruining" his creative vision of the game. I want us, as a fandom, to truly read this with full understanding that maybe, just maybe, when current employees are changing or "retconing" lore, they are doing it to remove all traces of a person who caused them real trauma and abuse.

What amounts to funny little lore tabs for us to pore through, it's very likely a reminder of abuse to the employees who are writing it. If they want to make minor changes to distance themselves from someone who abused them, I am happy for them if they do it, even if that leads to minor inconsistencies in my lore. The wellbeing of another human is more important than a "retcon" in a fictional story.

I would rather a story change than have "the original" coming from a toxic abusive asshole that is actively making the lives of everyone on the writing team miserable. I frankly don't care about his original vision for Destiny. I don't believe it was anything good.

More under for length. It's a lot.

Writers wouldn’t learn about changes to their work until after voice lines had already been recorded.

Absolutely insane that this is what the writers had to deal with. Yes, of course there are mistakes and issues, especially in the early days of Destiny 1 when the crunch was worse and Activision was forcing them to release new DLCs and forcing them to switch focus to the sequel.

This highlights the issue of people using older lore as proof of retcons. What if these mistakes and inconsistencies that we're seeing are a result of crunch and decisions being made away from the writing team? A lot of old lore could be the actual mistakes that are now being fixed. People tend to prioritise what was written first as some sort of gospel, ignoring all of these well publicised issues that we know Bungie was going through.

The other way around could be true. Old lore, things that were written first, were mistakes due to the disruptive workplace that these devs were struggling with and they didn't have time to double check before their work was shipped off to recording and publishing. Perhaps these people are using this time away to correct some of these mistakes that never should've been released in the state they were released in.

This absolutely makes sense due to the report of an employee that didn't want to stay anonymous. Cookie Hiponia started working at Bungie in 2016 as a contractor and became a full-time employee in 2019. In her words:

Hiponia recalled that when she first stepped in, Bungie hadn't had a lot of editing oversight on the Destiny franchise, and had not previously focused very much on its story, consistency, or continuity. That led to a leadership that appeared to operate without normal professional boundaries. As Hiponia puts it, "They just had a bunch of people who wrote things and kind of had the run of the place."

For years, during entire D1 and early D2, there was apparently no editing oversight, the story wasn't focused on properly and especially they did not care enough about consistency and continuity. Basically, top guys were making things up on the fly and treating the game's story as their personal sandbox. We should be taking 6-7 year old lore with a grain of salt instead of treating is as superior. An actual developer came out publicly to tell people that Bungie did not care about the story, consistency and continuity at the time.