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clockwayswrites · 8 months

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Like Betta Fish Do Part 24

WC: 3102, Masterpost

Danny stared up at the towering facade of Wayne manner from its front steps.

Yep, clearly cursed.

Jason didn’t seem much more cheerful from where he stood next to Danny.

“We can still run,” Danny offered.

Jason just sighed, “No, we came through the gate so Alfred knows we’re here. If we left I’d get the eyebrow next time.”

“Ah,” Danny said with a sage nod. “The eyebrow, of course. Very scary.”

“Just you watch, once you’ve been around long enough and stop being an esteemed guest, you’ll get the eyebrow too,” Jason warned.

The warning just made Danny grin.

“What?” Jason asked, eying the smile wearily.

“You planning to keep me around long enough for me to stop being an esteemed guest?”

Jason huffed out a laugh and leaned over to brush a kiss to Danny’s temple. “You bet I am. You’d have to die to be rid of me. Oh wait…”

Danny laughed and bumped his shoulder against Jason. “Okay, well, I’ll fear the eyebrow when it gets there. First I have to get through tonight.”

“You did fine with the horde of annoying siblings.”

“Yeah, well, they got to kick my ass repeatedly in Mario Kart and Party. I don’t think that’s going to work with your dad or the guy who’s basically your grandfather.”

“Not really, Bruce is surprisingly bad at video games and Alfred would never.”

“Shame, getting beat up and getting back up is my best trait,” Danny said with a dramatic sigh.

“Just be yourself. It was enough for me,” Jason said.

Danny felt a blush crawl up his neck and cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, sap.”

Jason chuckled, pressed one more kiss to Danny’s temple, and finally took the last few steps to knock on the door. It opened almost instantly to an extremely distinguished older man in a tailed suit and white gloves.

Danny swallowed nervously.

“Master Jason, it is very good to see you tonight.”

“Hey Alfie,” Jason said. He stepped into the manor and pulled Danny in by their linked hands. “Alfred, this is my boyfriend Danny Nightingale. Danny, this is Alfred Pennyworth.”

Alfred gave a little nod. “A pleasure to meet you Master Daniel.”

Danny couldn’t help but wince at that. With the manor it brought back far too many memories that Danny didn’t want to think about. “Um, I prefer Danny, if… that’s not a problem, Mr. Pennyworth?”

“Of course not, Master Danny. But you must call me Alfred then.”

“I can do that, Alfred,” Danny said with a relieved smile. As he was handing over his coat and scarf, he picked up some noise from the stairs and tried not to turn that way.

“Remember, Bruce tonight, not Brucie or you know who,” Dick whispered in a way that Danny wasn’t supposed to hear. The benefits of death.

“Yes Dick, I think you’ve said that enough,” someone who must have been Bruce answered. At least he sounded mostly amused by his son’s harping.

As much as Danny was very aware that the Bruce Wayne was Jason’s father, it was still something to see Bruce Wayne coming down the stairs. He looked nothing like the public figure, not dressed down like he was in a dark shirt and a cozy looking cardigan.

It was almost worse because now Danny felt completely wrong footed.

“Jason,” Bruce said with a smile. “And you must be Danny.”

“Yes sir,” Danny said as he reflexively shook the offered hand.

“Just Bruce, please. That’s quite a grip you have,” Bruce said.

Danny’s blush deepened and he quickly released Bruce’s hand.

“He said he trains with a xiphos and a dory,” Damian said from the side of the room where he basically just seemed to appear.

“Greek weaponry?” Bruce asked with a raised brow. “That’s unusual.”

“My teacher’s Greek and a fan of historic weaponry,” Danny said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m not very good with them though, as much as she hopes to change that. I prefer hand to hand.”

“He’s pretty good at that. We spar once a week,” Jason said. He stepped to stand beside Danny, which Danny was grateful for.

Even aware off all the eyes in the room tracking his movement, Danny couldn’t help but lean into Jason’s side. It helped ease some of his nerves when Jason instantly draped an arm around his shoulders.

“Who else are we expecting?” Jason asked.

“Just Tim and Duke, they’re upstairs,” Dick answered as he finally came forward. “Hey Danny.”

“Hi Dick,” Danny said, “and hello Damian.”

“Yes, hello,” Damian said with a sniff. “Did you bring your xiphos?”

Danny did his best to stifle a smile. “Sorry, I don’t have one at my place, you’ll have to wait until I can make a trip back to Illinois.”

“Is that where you’re from, Danny?” Bruce asked as he waved them towards a room to the left.

“Born and raised. I came from a little city called Amity Park,” Danny explained, as if Batman didn’t already know that, especially after Tim’s digging.

Jason steered them over to the the two seater sofa in the sort of sitting room only rich people had. Once they had settled in, he took Danny’s hand, rubbing his thumb across Danny’s knuckles in a grounding touch.

“Gotham must be quite the change.” Bruce took an armchair for himself while Dick nudged Damian to the other couch.

“It is, I’ve never lived somewhere so big. I won’t pretend it hasn’t been overwhelming at times, but it’s also really nice that the city has so much to offer. I’ve been enjoying living here.”

“You’re here for school if I remember correctly?”

“Aerospace engineering at Gotham U,” Danny explained. “It’s my first year, but I’ve got all my gen eds done so I’m somewhere between a sophomore and junior.”

Bruce gave a little nod and leaned back in his seat. “Are you considering a masters or doctorate?”

“I am, opportunities get so much better with one, but I’ll just have to see in two years. I’m, um, on scholarship so it will depend if I can get a stipend for grad school,” Danny said, once again reminded of how awkward it was to be on a Wayne scholarship while knowing the Waynes. (Sitting in their manor only made the feeling worse.)

“I hope that it works out for you. Wayne Enterprises has an aerospace division, you know.”

“I do,” Danny said. He really wished he could stop blushing over everything behind said to him. “It’s somewhere I’ve strongly though about applying too. If I want to stay in Gotham, it’s really my only chance too.”

Jason’s hand tightened around Danny’s for a moment.

Bruce seemed to catch it, of course he did. It made Danny very aware he was in a room with Batman. With lots of other Bats.

“Are you hoping to be able to?”

“Yeah. There’s…” Danny gave in an glanced at Jason. It wasn’t as if the others weren’t going to pick up on it anyways, so he might as well act honestly. “… a lot to stay around for, right now.”

“Well, I think you can at least be confident you’ll get an interview,” Bruce said with a chuckle.

It made Danny shake his head a little. “I mean, I’ll take that, but I don’t want a job unless I’m actually good for it. I get that networking is a real thing, but that should only get me in the door. If I get to work for WE, I want it to be because I worked hard, because I am working hard at this, and because I deserver the job.”

Bruce smiled. It was a slight thing, but for the first time that night Danny felt it was completely real. “That’s noble of you. Don’t worry, none of the family sits on hiring boards at that level.”

“Um, that’s good,” Danny said, realizing that he just basically told a family made from nepotism that he didn’t want to accept nepotism. He shot a desperate look to Jason.

The jerk just laughed at him.

“Don’t change,” Jason said before pressing another one of those soft kisses to Danny’s temple.

Danny was really starting to like them.

“Hey Danny, good to see you again,” Duke said as he came into the sitting room. It sounded honest coming from him. “Sorry I wasn’t down when you got here.”

“Hey Duke, homework?”

“So much homework,” he lamented.

“Yeah, the end of this semester is going to crush me,” Danny said. “I’ve got, like, three projects starting next week.”

“Good luck, dude,” Duke said, leaning over from where he had sat on the couch to fist bump Danny.

Danny looked up as someone cleared his throat to see Alfred in the doorway. “Master Tim is still missing?”

“You know how he is,” Bruce said.

“Indeed,” Alfred said, sounding like he wanted to sigh but was too proper to. “I shall fetch him in a moment. Dinner is served, sirs.”

“Stick a fork in me I’m done,” Danny said right before he face planted dramatically onto the couch.

“You did great,” Jason soothed, hanging up the coat that Danny had discarded mindlessly next to the door.

“Eempfatinerifatmn mone.”

“You’re going to have to stop making out with the throw pillow if you want me to understand you,” Jason said before having to duck the aforementioned throw pillow as it was thrown at his head.

“I said I just had dinner with Batman, I’m done,” Danny said as he rolled over. He blinked up at the ceiling. “Oh, we’re at your place.”

“How out of it were you on the ride?” Jason asked. He sat on the arm of the couch and brushed back some of Danny’s unruly hair.

“Dinner with Batman,” Danny reiterated seriously.

“Point taken. But really, you did great.”

Danny grumbled.

“You did. You have Damian curious about how you fight. Duke and Dick think you’re funny. You even talked shop with Tim.”

“Tim still doesn’t trust me, or Dick,” Danny pointed out.

“Tim doesn’t trust anyone,” Jason said. “And Dick likes you, he just needs time still. It was a scare for him and it hasn’t been that long. Alfred thinks you’re darling, I’m pretty sure, and Bruce smiled; real smiles.”

“I just…”

“You’re just over thinking it. Why don’t I take you to bed before you fall asleep,” Jason said. Then he realized what he had said. “That’s, I mean, just to sleep. If you’d be comfortable with that? If not I can drive you home or…”

Jason trailed off as Danny snagged his hand and kissed his knuckles gently. “Now who’s over thinking?”

Now smiling softly, Jason asked, “That a yes then?”

“As long as I can borrow a shirt to sleep in, that’s a yes.”

“You’ll be swamped,” Jason warned as he stood. He bent down and picked Danny up in one easy motion.

Danny gave a little squeak and quickly wrapped his arms around Jason’s neck. “I can live with that when I get first class service like this.”

“Lazy fish.”

“You like it.”

“I do.”

Jason stopped in surprise as he entered his office after a meeting on Monday. “Bruce?”

“Jaylad! I thought that we would go and grab lunch.”

“I, sure,” Jason said, confused despite himself. “Just give me a moment to finish up a few notes from the meeting?”

“Of course. I’ll meet you in the lobby in… five? Ten?”

“Ten,” Jason agreed, moving around to sit at his desk.

It was only his training to focus that stopped him from being distracted by the fact that Bruce wanted to get lunch. It’s not that it never happened, just that it was rare enough to be odd. For all of the Brucie persona (though that had been toned down ever since Damian showed up), Bruce was actually very busy at the company and Jason had thrown himself into the deep end of the foundation. It was hard to find time even without the rest of their lives getting in the way. And it would be a lie to say things were never awkward between them still.

Exactly ten minutes later he was meeting Bruce in the lobby.

“I was thinking that cafe down the block, the one on Polk,” Bruce said.

“Yeah, that works, they’re pretty good,” Jason agreed. He let them get out on the street before he asked, “So is this lunch for a reason?”

“Somewhat. I wanted to talk with you about last night’s dinner.”

Jason’s heart jumped a beat.

“Danny seems a very nice person,” Bruce said. Jason braced himself for the ‘but’. “And I’m glad that you felt comfortable bringing him to the manor for dinner. It means a lot to me that we’re in a place that you’re willing to do that.”

“You don’t have concerns?” Jason said, honestly shocked at how easy Bruce, the notorious over planner, was being about this.

“Of course I have concerns, Jaylad, I’m a parent. I’m concerned how you’ll do if it doesn’t work out. I’m concerned if it does. I’m concerned for you having to deal with the press, both of you. And I won’t pretend I’m not concerned about his parents, they sound one step away from being evil scientists. It makes me concerned about what Danny had to go through growing up,” Bruce said, “but none of that stops me from being happy for you that you’ve found Danny.”

“Oh,” Jason said, at a loss for any other words. He had honestly expected to have to go over the same issues and worries that Tim had again with Bruce. Maybe Timbit briefing Bruce had really worked… or maybe Jason was still too used to expecting the worst of Bruce, even when it wasn’t fair. It was a little easier these days to see where they had both messed up. “I’m happy with him, Bruce. He… everything is just brighter since I’ve known him. And I don’t want to have to hide that from you all. I mean, I did at the start because it was all new and I was still figuring it out, but… I want you to be able to know him too. He’s important to me.”

“Well, he’s welcome over at the manor whenever, barring emergencies of course,” Bruce said, alluding to the night life. “I think Alfred is determined to feed the boy after the way Danny praised the meal last night.”

Jason chuckled and held the door to the cafe open for Bruce. “Yeah, it’s easy to feel that way about Danny.”

They were seated quickly and both spent a few minutes looking over the menu. After they had ordered, Jason fiddled with his glass of water, wiping away a trail of condensation. “Hey Dad?”

Bruce looked up right away. It was rare for Jason to ever call him ‘Dad’ these days. “Yes son?”

“I’ve been thinking about going to college?”

“Okay,” Bruce said, folding his hands and giving Jason his undivided attention. “Tell me your thoughts?”

“So,” Jason said as soon as Danny picked up the phone. “You can officially consider yourself to have the stamp of approval.”

“Huh?” Danny tried to pull his thoughts away from the equation he was staring at.

“Bruce cornered me for lunch. You are formally welcome at the manor any time.”

“Oh, wow, okay. That went better than I thought,” Danny said.

“I told you you did great,” Jason said.

“I guess at least not badly,” Danny said.

“Fish.”

“Fine,” Danny said with an exaggerated sigh. “I did great. I am amazing. I am the very best there ever was.”

“Damn right,” Jason said. “How has your day been?”

Danny flopped back onto the floor. “Ugh, project one is already eating my soul.”

“Anything I can do to help in these dark times?”

“Make sure I see the sky every now and again?” Danny joked. “And maybe… we can repeat last night?”

It was the best sleep Danny had gotten in a long time.

“Of course we can.” The noise on Jason’s end changed, and Danny had to assume he stepped into his building. “Speaking of the end of the semester, are you leaving Gotham for the break?”

Danny tried not to tense. “Maybe around the new years but I thought I’d just take it easy before. Sleep off the semester.”

“What are your plans for Christmas?”

Yeah, there it was.

“Um, really I thought I’d just hole up and watch a bunch of really bad movies like Sharknado Five.”

“They’ve made five of those things?” Jason asked. He sounded mostly horrified and a little curious.

“Six, and three spin offs.”

“Huh. Well, I know it might be, a lot, but if you want, you can come over to the manor for Christmas?”

Danny frowned down at where he was absentmindedly picking at the seam on the couch. “I don’t… really like Christmas? The whole season sorta gets to me so I would really rather just… not.”

Here it comes. Three, two, one…

“Okay.”

What?

“What?”

“Okay,” Jason said simply. “Can I give you your present for, I don’t know, Solstice instead? Just since I already have it.”

Danny couldn’t stop the smile that spread over his face if he tried. Jason didn’t mind. He wasn’t pushing or bullying or guilt tripping about it. It was just… okay. “Yeah, Solstice sounds perfect.”

“Good. And I’ll make you something to stick in the oven for food.”

“You don’t have to,” Danny said, even as the very thought warmed him.

“I want to. Also it might butter you up to say yes.”

“Yes to what?”

“Going with me as my plus one to the Wayne New Years Eve Gala.”

“A gala?”

“Just, the press already knows about you. It might be weird if you don’t come? And I… it would be nice to have you there.” The nerves were clear in Jason’s voice.

Danny really couldn’t say no to that, could he? Besides, he could visit Jazz after New Years still. “Okay, but you have to make sure I look alright.”

“Done. You’ll be the prettiest orca there.”

Danny covered up a snort of laughter. “Isn’t it supposed to be penguin suits for tuxes? Besides, orcas aren’t even fish, they’re really big murder dolphins.”

“I could put you in a gold suit, then you’d be my goldfish.”

“Jason, no,” Danny said, trying hard not to keep from laughing.

“You’d be the talk of Gotham.”

“You mean the laughing stock.”

“I wouldn’t let them, not about my fish,” Jason said. “Can we bargain for blue? It would match your eyes.”

“Maybe, we’ll see,” Danny said. “I’ll be watching for you adding in fish references.”

“I would never!”

“You’re a liar.”

“You like it.”

“I do.”

-----

AN: Danny has survived meeting the family! He is very sleepy, but he survived! Sorry for the people waiting for a pissed off Bruce, but that's not my Batman ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Tim's research and questioning last week did its job to let Bruce feel prepared and Bruce really does want his children happy.

And a gala on the horizon for the next part! How exciting!

I no longer tag people, but you can subscribe to the masterpost!

#dp x dc #dead on main #like betta fish do

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pastshadows · 1 month

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Shadows of the Past

Chapter 11: Fate's Folly

Summary: Astarion remained a spawn after ending the reign of Cazador with your help. After defeating the Netherbrain, you and Astarion stay together, moving forward with your lives. You reside in a small house in the city. One night, after an awkward and concerning interaction with him, he disappears without a trace.

Setting: Post End-Game. Mostly canon compliant.

Word Count: 6.4K

Content: Explicit 18+ - intended for mature audiences.

Warnings: [Additional tags will be added, but expect mature content / read at your own risk.]

Spoilers. Mentions of in-game missable content. Violence. Sexual Assault [Implied/attempted sexual assault: Chapter 7]. Past Trauma. Murder. Death. Longing. Sexual themes. Smut. Blood drinking. Angst. Innuendos. High use of sarcasm. Completely fabricated camp interactions. Panic attacks. Anxiety.

Winter has gripped Faerûn in a deadlock. The trees have long since shed their leaves, and the bare limbs reach for the sky like bony fingers trying to scratch the heavens. The winter sun is dipping below the horizon, leaving the land stark and frigid. The wind whistles over the plains and whips your hair, churning it wildly around your face. You can’t even pick your feet up anymore, so your boots scuff across the hard earth.

How long have you been walking this road without stopping to eat or sleep? Your feet ache, your eyelids feel like lead weights, and your mind urges you to make camp for the night to allow yourself to slip into your trance, but you dare not. You don’t want to be assaulted by your nightmares any longer as they feed off sorrow and torment you. They pain you more than this exhaustion ever could.

Your fingers are frozen and numb. Lifting your hand, you try to summon fire, but you’re so tired even the Weave has abandoned you until you rest. With a defeated sigh, you pull your hood up and wrap your arms around yourself, shivering so hard your muscles cramp painfully, and your jaw chatters, clicking your teeth together.

If I can keep walking, at least I am advancing toward him.

… Hopefully.

As you continue your sluggish walk, your eyes begin to drift closed of their own volition. You’ve pushed your body too far, and it’s succumbing to exhaustion. You trip, sending yourself sprawling, and pebbles, twigs and gravel bite into your palms and knees. With no energy left in your reserves to push yourself up, you can do nothing but slump over on the cold earth and curl up.

If you do not trance, it will force itself upon you, and you quickly fade into a half-conscious state. You can feel the ground sap your body heat and infuse you with a raw, frigid sting that balls up your muscles and lances your skin as it permeates your robe. Your head hits and cracks the thin layer of ice atop a muddy puddle, splashing and submerging your hair in the slush. The murky liquid is piercing on your forehead and scalp, but you don’t have the energy to move. Unable to keep your eyes open, you drift and see Astarion in your mind’s eye.

Astarion relaxed at home, reading to you, cuddled up in bed while you giggle at his theatrical character voices. He only does these for you. He would never do such a thing in front of anyone else.

Astarion and you drinking his favourite wine by the fire all day, laughing, and dancing.

Astarion and you jump into a cold lake in the dead of night because he challenged you to see who would get out first. He won, of course.

Astarion walks through the rabble of taverns, playing your little game with a mischievous glimmer in his beautiful eyes, and he winks at you when he catches your glance.

Astarion and you making love. Your ears twitch, and you can almost hear his voice panting, “I love you, Kamena, my only one.”

Astarion humming a soothing tune because you were having trouble sleeping while you lay on his chest.

A wolf howls somewhere in the distance. When your eyes finally allow you to open them, your eyelashes are burdened with frozen teardrops, an icy stage for your woe. Your hair is an icicle of mud rooted to the ground. The first snowflakes drift from the sky, kissing your cheeks. You don’t have any strength left to rise, so you lay there as the snow starts to form a blanket akin to a death shroud on your body. You can’t even weep. You lay and wonder if this is it. Is this the end of your story? A powerful, fierce sorceress, torn asunder, doomed and destroyed by true love?

Why did you leave me, Astarion? What did I do?

You wake with a start, lunging upright and taking deep breaths. Your bones still ache from the cold, the remnant of your dream still evoking shivers. You flex your fingers, forcing them to release the bed linen balled in your fists. Nightmares still plague your meditation, but at least this one didn’t wake you up screaming. You glance at Astarion’s side of the bed, letting your hand slip over the silk sheets. He must still be out hunting. Every time he leaves, you worry that this time is the time he does not return.

Will I ever be able to trust him again?

Winter is starting to settle over the land, and the nights have become far too cold for your liking. There is no way you’ll be able to fall back into your trance. Flicking your wrist, a fire roars to life out of thin air, and you push it to burn unnaturally hot. Slipping Astarion’s shirt on, you sit on the floor before the fire and hold your fingers close to the flame, hoping the heat might blow away the remains of the dream gripping you. It doesn’t work. Your fingers still tremble with that panging soreness that will not relent.

Intense shivers run up and down your spine, making your body tremble with the same verve it did on that rigid, icebound earth. A cutting, frigid cold settles over your body as if you’ve been plunged into a crevice and fallen to the very depths of Cania. The flames of the fire start to turn a frightening blueish-white. Yet, no matter how hot you push it to burn, you cannot get the gnawing ache to abate.

You don’t hear Astarion enter, and you jump when he sits in the plush chair behind you, with you between his legs. He drapes a blanket over your shoulders, rubbing your arms, “You are up late or early, depending on how you view it. Nightmares again?”

“Yes,” you sigh as you pull the blanket around you. Your teeth continue to chatter despite the sweat sheening your skin.

Astarion kisses the top of your head, “I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

What does he expect you to say? The year you spent without him by your side still haunts your dreams and thoughts. Lately, it has been all-consuming, and it’s absorbing your happiness. You can feel yourself slipping, and no matter how hard you try, the slipping never seems to stop. Anything you say will hurt him, and he’s had enough pain in his life. He does not need to bear your misery.

“We used to talk about everything and anything. I told you all about my…,” Astarion’s jaw clenches. He’s uncomfortable talking about that night he cried in your arms for hours, but he pushes himself to continue, “My feelings and fears. It’s not easy for me either, you know. I am unaccustomed to sharing my weaknesses. Hells, I’m not even used to feeling it. I spent so many years feeling only hatred, disgust and loathing, and then you came along and ruined it all,” he smirks, trying to lighten the gloomy mood.

“We used to before you left me,” you whisper. There’s a hint of irritation in your voice. Being pushed to share your pathetic moments and weakness grates at you, but then again, maybe you need someone to drag it out of you. You’ve been keeping this woe bottled inside you for so fucking long, “I’m not sure what you want me to say, Astarion. Whatever I tell you will be painful to hear, and I don’t want to do that to you because it’s not your fault.”

Astarion bursts out of his chair. He shouts with an inflection rough as gravel, “It is my fault! Stop making excuses for me because there is no excuse for what I did. I am not a fool, and I am not fragile. What did you ask of me? The truth even when it hurts? Do I not deserve the same courtesy?”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you whimper, hand covering your mouth and blinking away tears.

“I deserve the hurt, and I can handle it. Let me bear it with you.”

“No,” you shake your head, eyes fixed on him, “You don’t deserve it.”

Astarion wracks his fingers through his hair and over the frustration that darkens the planes of his face, making him look severe, “Stop being so bloody pig-headed!”

You’re swayed in a sudden grip of outrage. It festers in your veins, heating your skin and palms. The fire leaps wildly as if pure alcohol were poured onto it as you jump to your feet. You can’t help yourself, and you pace as you scream at him, “What do you want me to say, Astarion?! You want me to tell you that I walked for days at a time. All day and all night! I never stopped to eat or rest because if I did, I didn’t know if I would have the strength to get back up!”

Good Gods. You’re so fucking livid that flames are starting to writhe over your skin like snakes in a pit. That draconic fire is hard to control when your emotions are high. All the feelings you’ve been tampering start to spew out of your mouth spitefully, and you can’t stop the avalanche.

“You want the fucking truth?” You roar, unable to stop the emotion seeping from your pores, “I walked until my feet and legs were numb from pain. I walked until I was so exhausted that my eyes closed without consent, the Weave, even fire abandoned me, and my pathetic body forced me to stop. Do you know what happened when I stopped? Exactly what I feared would. I had to relive memories of when I was happy, memories of us, as the cold earth sapped the rest of my strength. When I came to, I did not have the strength to continue, so I lay there while snow blanketed me and considered letting death have me because I was so godsdamned miserable without you!”

Tears stream down your face, dripping from your chin. When you look at Astarion, his cheeks are as wet as yours, scarlet eyes ashine behind sorrow. This is what you did not want to do. You don’t want to hurt him. Astarion told you he left you because he was afraid, and at the time, it felt like the best option available. That need to run, ignore, and flee your problems is an old friend now, and you can’t blame him. It’s what you did for a year and are continuing to do.

Instead of facing the fact that he was gone and he did not want to be found, you kept pushing your body to its limits and putting yourself into stupid situations because you could not accept the fact that maybe he did not want you any longer. Your heart is hammering as you choke and suffocate on all the memories you’ve been repressing. Days and nights of walking or running as far as your feet could take you until you were senseless. Battles with brigands, ne’er-do-wells, and all manner of beasts. The boiling heat of summer and the glacial cold of winter. Staring at the moon while you wept because your soul could practically feel the distance between you enlarging.

The fact he’s made you upset him stokes those embers of anger further. You rasp low, wiping your eyes, “There. Now you know how pathetic I am. I am not a fearless leader or a fucking hero. I am just a broken, foolishly weak woman who could not even take care of herself and could not accept that you left me. Is that what you want to hear? Are you happy now that my fragility and broken pieces are displayed for you to gawk at and judge? Go ahead, Astarion. Tell me how objectively stupid I am.”

Astarion’s brows furrow as tears tiptoe from the corners of his eyes, gliding down his cheeks. Astarion’s voice is gruff, a woven lace between anger and anguish. “By the Gods. Why would you do that to yourself? For me, of all people?!”

Good Gods, is he truly so blind?

“Because I love you! The way I fell for you was as effortless as breathing. When you left, the moon split, and the stars fell from the sky into the sea I was endlessly suffocating in. I watched my whole world crumble.” Splaying your hand on your chest, you try to halt the ever-increasing tightness constricting your lungs. You laugh sarcastically at yourself, “And it’s all my damn fault. You are not accountable for my happiness or lack thereof, or how I handled you leaving, or what I did after the fact. It’s all on me.”

It’s an epiphany of sorts. All that anger, fear, and hurt you’re holding onto, repressing, and running from is not his doing - it’s yours. You cannot blame Astarion for how you reacted to his leaving, regardless of how he handled it. You’ve been smothering yourself, and your anger is entirely misplaced. You are angry at yourself, and you have been for some time.

The silhouette standing in the road, blocking you from happiness, is yours.

You need air and space to think, and you dress quickly while Astarion begs you to stop and talk to him. Gods, you’re going to asphyxiate if you stay in this house. Your chest heaves in short, quick breaths that only make you dizzier. Your heart is thudding in your ears. Your muscles tremble with the urge to run, and you lunge toward the door.

Run.

Astarion steps in front of it quickly, “No,” His voice shakes, tears streaking down his cheeks as he blocks your path.

“Get out of my way, Astarion,” you snap at him sharply. “Get out of my way, or I will move you out of my way.”

Please don’t make me move you.

“Then move me,” he challenges with a scowl.

With a grimace, you cast Telekinesis and glide Astarion across the floor to the other end of the room gently. His eyes round, shocked. You’ve never cast against him in anger before. Guilt devours you, consuming whatever was left of your rationality.

Once again, panic takes the wheel, and you run.

I’m sorry, Astarion. I’m so sorry.

He watches the slow rise and fall of her chest and listens to the somnolent beating of her heart as she trances by the fire to keep warm. He only needs a taste, a nibble, to test how far this newfound freedom truly spans. He can walk in the sun, and so far, Cazador has not been able to control him, but is he still bound by the rules Cazador planted in his mind?

If he’s quiet enough, he should be able to… Her eyes snap open, and she jumps to her feet with a scowl.

“…Shit.” He puts his hands up and backs away slowly, watching her intently to see if she reaches for a weapon or if magic starts to dance on her fingers, “No, no - it’s not what it looks like, I swear!”

Shit. Shit. Shit. He’s got to recover from this. Quickly, or she might try and stake him, “I wasn’t going to hurt you. I just needed - well, blood.”

“How long since you killed someone? Days? Hours?”

“I’ve never killed anyone! Well… not for food,” He glances at the ground. How much should he reveal? It’s a fine line to tread. He needs to tell enough of the truth to earn trust but not enough to unveil his “little plan.”

She is not wholly soft-hearted and pure, but he’s spent two hundred years manipulating people. He can surely get her to spread her legs for him, to fall for him, and ensure his safety. The living are as much of a slave to their more animalistic desires as he is to bloodlust. It makes them simple prey.

“I feed on animals. Boars, deer… Kobolds. Whatever I can get. But it’s not enough. Not if I have to fight! I feel so... weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better.” He slips on his expert manipulative demeanour and intonation, ”Please.”

He feels an odd pinch in his mind as it half unfolds for her. Gods. She has access to his memories and thoughts. Will she intrude into his mind unapologetically and violate him as so many have in the past? More than likely. He sighs, resigns himself and awaits the transgression.

Her brow quirks up, and her defensive stance relaxes slightly as she shakes her head to rid herself of the unfamiliar sensation of the tadpole writhing behind her eye. Her voice is gentle, almost hurt, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She… she didn’t force herself upon him? She didn’t take the bait and play his mind like an instrument, plucking the strings of his memories?

“At best, I was sure you’d say no. More likely, you’d ram a stake through my ribs. No, I needed you to trust me. And you can trust me.”

She scrutinizes him in a way that makes him feel like he’s been stripped of his clothes and naked. “I do. I believe you.”

“Thank you.” he sighs, relieved. She trusts him? Objectively stupid, but he will take it. “Do you think you could trust me just a little further? I only need a taste, I swear.”

She nods, “Fine. But not a drop more than you need.”

His brows shoot up his forehead. Is she really just going to allow him to bite her? Stupid woman. “Really? I - of course. Not one drop more. Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?”

“Wait!” She halts him, pushing him back by the shoulders.

He recoils, a little aggravated at her blockage. He was so, so deliciously close. “What is it, Sorceress? Don’t tell me you’ve chickened out already. I’ll be gentle, I swear. It will only hurt for a moment.”

“No, Rogue,” she frowns at him. She is cute when she’s angry. Her fingers hover by his lips, “Pain does not frighten me. Open your mouth.”

“Open my mouth?” He arches a brow at her, “Why?”

“I’ve noticed your fangs, but I’ve never paid them much thought,” she muses with a wily grin. “I would like to see what you’re about to plunge into my neck.”

He scoffs, “I am not an exhibition for your eyes to feast upon.”

“Do you want to eat or not?” She smirks, “I believe it’s a simple request.”

“You’re very strange,” he clicks his tongue but opens his mouth for her with a roll of his eyes. It is a small price to pay if this works.

She pricks her finger against his fang, “Ouch! Sharp!”

“No, shit.” He chuckles with a scoff, “Have you finished examining me now? Shall we continue?”

She scoffs back at him, “You’re very impatient. Very well. You may continue with your supper.”

She lolls her head to the side. His fangs break her supple flesh, and her blood flows freely into his mouth. Cazador’s rules do not bind him any longer. Gods, she tastes like clouds parted, heaven is stroking his tongue, and angel wings flutter through his veins. She leans into him with a sigh. Her body shakes, excited. Excited? An odd reaction, but alas, who is he to complain? He can feel her inside of him. Her essence fills him, and his nerves hum a sonnet he’s never heard or felt. He loses himself in her.

She pushes against him feebly as her body starts to grow cold, “Stop! It’s too much.”

Reluctantly, he removes his fangs, cleaning his lips, and licking his fingers. He will not waste a drop of that liquid bliss, “Ah! Of course. I was just swept up in the moment. But it worked. I feel good. Strong. Happy.”

He got carried away. He will have to watch himself more carefully if she ever allows him near her again.

She wavers on her feet, hand coming to her forehead and eyes glossy. She groans, and he expects her to chastise him. Instead, she steadies herself and chimes resolutely, “I’m looking forward to seeing you fight.”

That’s it? No beating? No flaying? No putrid rats? Not so much as a “bad vampire!” Just... looking forward to seeing him fight. What in the Hells?

He hides his surprise behind that practice veneer of confidence, “Shouldn’t take long. So many people need killing. Now if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating, but I need something more filling,” he lies. He’s full, happy, but inexplicably highly aroused.

Is this something that always happens with thinking creatures? Is it simply a natural response because she’s his first? He has nothing and no one to compare this experience to.

“This is a gift, you know.” She might be a gift from the Gods after they’ve ignored him for centuries. He is no longer bound by his puppet master or the rules rooted in his brain. He has broken his chains. He purrs, “I won’t forget it.”

She stops him, giggling lightheaded and ethereal, “The boar was you, wasn’t it?”

She is clever, isn’t she? He chuckles, “Yes, my dear. I said a vampire killed it, did I not?”

She plops down on her bedroll, “You conveniently left out that you were that vampire. Very clever, Astarion,” she smirks. “I’ll watch you and the pretty words that leave your beautiful mouth more closely from now on. Happy hunting.”

She thinks his mouth is beautiful?

The door slams hard enough to cause the tower to shake, and she’s gone. Kamena had always been the unshakable light of their group of misfits. She took everything in stride.

Gale’s orb might explode and kill them all? No problem, we will find magical items for him to consume.

Sharran Cleric? No sweat. Your beliefs are your own.

Warlock bound to his contract? Easy. We will find a way to break that.

Murderous Gith with a superiority complex that could rip out her spine? Tell me more about you and your people.

Tiefling spewing Hellfire from her body with an infernal engine for a heart? Welcome aboard. Now, let’s find a way to fix that heart of yours.

Vampire spawn who tries to bite her while she tranced one night? No matter. I trust you. While we are at it, let's make a pit stop and kill your master so you can be free.

She never flinched when confronted that they might all burst into Mind Flayers any second. She always kept the group moving forward toward their goals while taking the time to sort out everyone’s problems. His stomach sinks. It’s nearly dawn, but he can catch her before the sun rises… probably. He sprints out of the room and down the stairs.

“Let her go, Astarion,” Gale grips his arm and shakes his head.

“Are you mad?” He pulls his arm away. “Don’t touch me.”

“You look lost,” Gale pats his shoulder. “Despite our differences, we do share one thing in common. Our love for her.” Astarion’s jaw tightens. “Purely platonic on my end, of course,” Gale assures with a genial smile. “If you need to speak to a trusted… friend. Well, I do hope you might consider me one such friend.”

“Are we,” he quirks his brow at the wizard and grimaces, “… friends?”

“Perhaps friends is a little superfluous,” Gale chuckles. “But I am here for you if you need a friendly ear or advice. I have navigated the waters she’s currently treading. It can be a dark path.”

“Ugh,” he scoffs, crossing his arms. The wizard always likes to beat around the bush. He prefers someone to speak their mind, “Just speak plainly.”

“Come, my friend,” Gale gestures toward the sitting room, “Let’s sit. I would offer you some tea, but… I know that doesn’t fit your particular dietary needs.”

Astarion groans, relinquishing his hold on the door handle. He looks longingly, willing it to open and for her to rush back into his arms. He sits on the sofa and lets his head fall into his hands. His fingers splayed into his hair.

“Do you want to be with her, Astarion?” Gale begins.

“What are you getting at, Gale?” He mutters annoyance weaved in the deep baritone of his voice that he can’t hide, “Get to the point.”

Gale’s voice loses the honeyed intonation, “Do you want to spend your life with her until hers ends, or will you run again when it gets hard? There is an imbalance in your relationship. You are immortal. She is not.”

“You know as well as I that there are ways to extend life - beyond my… condition,” Astarion drags his hand through his hair.

“There are, but nothing is assured,” Gale retorts, “If she cannot extend her life or find a cure for you, are you willing to stay with her when she gets old, and you remain forever young? It’s an eventually you must consider.”

Can he do it? Is he capable of spending the next 800 years with her only to have her age and die, leaving him alone again? Gods. A world void of her fire? Perish the thought.

Astarion cants a brow at him and scoffs, “If this is your attempt at a pep talk, you’re failing abysmally.”

“You have enough pep,” Gale chuckles, rubbing his hands together. “No, I am trying to have a real discussion with you, and you are making it exceedingly gruelling.”

“Yes,” he answers truthfully. Astarion swallows hard, trying to dissuade the ball in his throat to ease, “I want to be with her. More than anything.”

“Good,” Gale’s hand comes to his chin as he contemplates. “Then you must keep fighting for her. Every day, you must treasure her. When the days are cold, warm her. When the shadows disturb her rest, hold her tight. When she needs space, let her go. Show her you can handle the storm, and be prepared to weather it with her.”

“I am trying,” he sighs, leaning back in his chair. His brows furrow as he eyes Gale with palpable caution. Gale is still in love with her, and he knows. It makes him wary to have these conversations with him, “I have never done this - a real relationship. Love. It’s all new to me, and I have no idea how to navigate it.”

Gale’s bourbon brown eyes reflect the firelight as he examines Astarion with a probing case that makes him uncomfortable, though his expression remains nearly blank. Is there empathy in his eyes? Delight? Pain?

“You hurt her deeply, but I don’t need to tell you that,” Gale finally says and leans forward. “You, of all people, should know that pain leaves scars, whether visible on the skin or unseen on the heart. Remember, Astarion. When you’re speaking to her, you are touching her scars.”

Hells below. He had not thought of it like that before.

Gale smiles, “Now, that awkwardness is over. Tell me, Astarion. What do you know of the Wish spell?

Astarion balks at the quick change in subject, although he’s happy about it, “Wish? I know it’s a powerful spell, but not much else. Spells are not my expertise, Gale. You know this. I leave magic up to you and Kamena - much more so Kamena.”

“Kamena is a substantially powerful sorceress. We have not seen the like of her kind for some time,” Gale smirks with an amused chuckle. “She gave up sparing with me because I could not keep up. Can you believe that - an archmage unable to keep up with a sorceress? I often wonder if her ancestor is Tiamat herself.”

“I am well aware of how powerful she is,” Astarion snickers, “But you’re getting off-topic. What of this Wish spell?”

Gale’s eyes brighten, and he beams. “Kamena never stopped looking for it, you know. Even when you left, she continued and persuaded me to continue as well. I have a lead - an excellent lead.”

“Is Kamena capable of casting it?” Astarion mouth drops. “Could she actually use it?”

“She is more than powerful enough to cast it,” Gale nods, but his expression turns sullen. “Though spells of this power often have a cost and can be rather… finicky. It could be dangerous - for you and her. I have not found it yet, but I believe we are getting close. In theory, she could use it to cure you, but it might go awry. We cannot be sure of the consequences, though. We have not found any documentation on such.”

“Can it kill her?” Astarion asks bluntly. Spells of such power often have unforeseen consequences. You cannot evoke such power without cost. Sometimes, it is minimal. Other times, it is life itself. He’s read enough books to know this much.

“Possibly,” Gale concludes with a grim look. His jaw clenches, setting his lips in a thin line.

“Stop looking for it, Gale.” Astarion shakes his head. His heart sinks a little. This would be the closest thing he could get to a cure since he didn’t complete the Rite, but he cannot justify the payment, “Her possible death is not worth my possible life.”

“My friend, you will have to speak to her about that,” Gale chuckles with a sullen shrug. “She has already been appraised of my objections.”

“Ugh,” Astarion scoffs, tousling his hair, “Let me guess. She said, and I quote, “Your objections have been noted.”

Gale’s laugh booms through the halls, “Yes, precisely. She is stubborn, and that silver tongue of hers is dangerous. Sometimes, she persuades me to do things I was adamant I didn’t want to do! Are all Elves like that, or is she just special?”

“Gale,” Astarion smirks, “I think we have much to discuss. I do not indulge in tea, but do you have something harder?”

Gale’s fingers come to his chin, “Like wine?”

“No,” Astarion tuts, clicking his tongue with a scoff. “Much harder.”

Gale grins widely, “Oh, now you’re speaking my language, my sharp-toothed friend! Join me in my cellar, and pick what you like best!”

You close the bedroom door softly behind you and lean on it. Astarion is sitting before the fire in one of the chairs. He does not even twist to look at you, but he would have heard and smelt you coming even before you reached the manor. He sits with his head in his hand, propped up by his arm. You take a deep breath and force the fire to take the shape of a dragon, fly out of the fireplace, around him and to you before you make it land on the log and continue burning in its natural state. Astarion does not flinch at your display. He barely seems to blink as the dragon gambles around him, driving and twirling. It’s a sure sign that he’s angry, which is precisely what you wanted to know.

You have been caught in a stormy ocean of despair. You’re being tossed like a ship on rough waves. Some days, the waves calm, and you feel like yourself again. On other days, the waves are agitated, and you toss, just trying to stay afloat, but sometimes you get dragged under the surface and start drowning again. It does not matter how hard you kick or fight to break the barrier. An anchor on your legs and arms that drags you down into the depths.

Perhaps it’s time to stop fighting the storm and weather it instead. Emotions are messy, and you are not well acquainted with these. You’ve never been in love before this. You spent most of your adult life alone, hunting down the wizard who purchased you and tortured you for your childhood in the name of “teaching you to master your talents.”

“I’m sorry, Astarion,” you murmur from the door, not daring to get closer to him. “I should not have cast on you. It was uncalled for.”

“You shuffled me across the floor,” he chuckles, twisting in his chair with an amused smile. “That hardly requires an apology. I am impressed with your control. However, I would prefer it if you don’t use magic when we argue. Otherwise, think nothing of it. I should not have pushed you. I was too harsh... I’m sorry.”

“I need to be pushed, I think,” you sigh, combing your fingers through your hair. “I keep trying to calm myself, but I just need to weather it as it comes. Sometimes... I get swept away, and there’s nothing I can do. I think... I need to stop trying to stop it and try to survive it instead.”

“Come,” Astarion taps his lap with an affectionate smile and empathy shining in his eyes. “Sit with me, and we can talk.”

Walking over, you discard your robe and are left in your underclothes. Astarion’s arms wrap around you as you ease down onto his lap, and he pulls you close to him. He kisses your temple, his cheek on your forehead.

Astarion takes your hand, interlocking your fingers with his and squeezing slightly. He asks blatantly, “Do you want to be with me, or is my presence here just hurting you further?”

“What?” You cup his cheek with your palm, and he nuzzles your hand. Astarion’s silken lips ghost over it, and he kisses it before resting on it, “I want to be with you more than anymore, but I need time. I told you. I am broken. I mentioned I was drowning when you left, but I am coming up for air now. I’m fighting to keep my head above the waves, but sometimes I fall below them…. I don’t want you to leave. Please, stay with me. You are all I need.“

He nods. Astarion’s scarlet eyes swallow you, and empathy and understanding wash over you. “You are not broken, sweetheart.” Astarion places a soft kiss on your lips. “You are healing, and sometimes healing is messy. I know that better than most.” Astarion pauses and nuzzles your cheek, “Stop running from me and start running to me, Kamena. I can be strong when you feel weak, just as you are for me. We do not walk these roads alone any longer. We walk them together, my Solicallor, my only one.”

Solicallor… His Elven nickname for you means “Warm light of the sun.”

What did I ever do to deserve someone so understanding?

That’s it, that breaks you, tearing you apart and rending you inside out. Your breaths come in rapid heaves, and your heart feels like it might fly out of your throat onto the ground before you. You clutch at your chest, and you start to tremble. Your eyes swarm with tears. You slip your hands down the back of Astarion’s shirt, needing to feel the cool chill of his skin, but are careful not to touch his scars. He doesn’t appear to notice when your fingertips accidentally brush the raised edges.

Astarion purrs, crushing you against him, “Breath with me, my love. Deep breaths. In” he counts to 30, “and out,” he counts to 30. You try to synchronize your breaths to his as best you can.

“You have not called me Solicallor in some time,” you shake while forcing a fireball to circle you as if you’re the gravity keeping it in place. You push all your hurt, fear and anger into that fireball, making it double in size and burn white-hot. “I can be your sun, Astarion. For now, at least.”

“Yes,” he chuckles, but there’s an edge to his voice that you didn’t expect. “Gale and I had an interesting chat today, but we shall discuss that later.”

“He told you of the Wish spell.” It’s not a question. You knew Gale was going to out you eventually. You’re going to have to scold him later for it. You were not going to tell Astarion until you had the damn spell in hand and were sure you could cast it.

“He did,” Astarion nods, rubbing your back and weaving his fingers into your hair. “But that’s a conversation for another time. Let’s focus on us for tonight.”

“I am going to have to chastise Gale,” you frown. You cannot help the anticipation dripping from your voice, “Us?”

“Don’t chastise him too hard, darling. He is rather insecure, but who wouldn’t be with me around?” he chuckles with an arrogant smirk. “Yes. Us. Whatever that may be right now. We can stay in this limbo of indecision as long as you need. But to me, we are still us. You are only mine, yes? Or do I have people I need to murder?”

“We are us.” You agree with a broad smile. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull yourself close, “And I am yours.”

“Only mine?” He sounds agog as if he cannot imagine you would be wholly his.

Does he still not believe he deserves me?

“Only yours, Aerasumé,” you kiss his cheek, calling him the nickname you gave him in private derived from your language. It means “Silvermoon of the Evening.” You’re reluctant to say it, but it’s been on your mind since you met him, “I think I was born to be yours, thiramin.”

Astarion stiffens at your mention of “thiramin.” It is your Elven word for what is basically a soulmate. His clutch on you strengthens, and his fingers start running through your hair, but he doesn’t say anything, and his jaw is tight. Your heart sinks into your stomach. Have you gone too far? Have you frightened him? Will he run?

“You don’t have to say it back, Astarion,” you encourage in a honeyed intonation, running your fingers comfortingly up and down his neck. “I do not expect you to feel that same. I just… I guess I just wanted you to know how I truly felt.”

Astarion’s mouth opens and closes, but no words come out. He swallows hard, making his Adam's apple bob. It’s one of his tells when he’s uncomfortable. He kisses you intimately, but his reluctance to answer causes your heart to spasm, clench and descend into your stomach. Are you more in love with him than he is with you? Is that why you were so incapable of letting him go, but he so easily ran from you?

“I think... I need some space,” Astarion murmurs. “I’m sorry, I-”

You cut him off, slipping off his lap and shaking your head. You remain stoic, forcing tears to stay behind your eyes, “It’s okay. I understand. Goodnight, Astarion."

I went too far.

Thank you to all those who read/like/comment/follow/reblog/etc. I'm forever thankful for the support.

Chapters Master List - Shadows of the Past

AO3: Crossposted

If you're interested, I also write fanfic for Ascended Astarion x Spawn Tav - Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Small Notes:

I just wanna hug Kamena.

Also Astarion

And Gale too for good measure.

#astarion x tav #astarion x you #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion romance #astarion x mc #astarion ancunin #astarion smut #baldurs gate astarion #astarion/oc #astarion x oc #astarion x named tav #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #shadows of the past

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absolutebl · 5 months

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This Week in BL - I'm finding rankings difficult, there's a lot of middle of the pack action and some serious top contenders

Organized, in each category, by ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Dec 2023 Wk 1

Ongoing Series - Thai

Last Twilight (Fri YT) ep 5 of 12 - I love how they’re slowly revealing bits of their past to each other. It parallels the slow burn of them falling in love with each other. Knowledge + understanding = affection. I cried during the part with his doubles partner, of course I did. As has been mentioned many times in this blog, I am a sap. Also I’m realizing that there is something particularly clever about this show: Because Day is blind, there must be a ton of physical touch. And physical touch is something that Thai BL does really well.

(I gotta say, while I ADORE JimmySea in these roles, a small part of me wonders how JoongDunk would have handled these parts.)

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 3 of 10 - Phaya is SO DAMN SMITTEN. It’s great. Have I mentioned recently how glad I am Billy got this role? This was the: “it’s not a date” date ep.

I gotta say these 2 BLs are neck and neck favorites right now.

Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube) ep 1 of 12 - Uh oh. I like it a lot. I think I was always going to because I have a soft spot for TayNew on screen. It is such funny to watch Tay play such a stiff character. I like it. This is very fast paced for a Thai BL I wonder where they’ll take it with this speed, are they’ll following the manga more closely?

My Dear Gangster Oppa (Thurs iQIYI) ep 7 of 8 - Wait, no. Wahl you’re such a problem. The pacing of this is very KBL. I’m not mad about it but it feels odd in Thai. Still enjoying this one the most as my "early in the week" offering.

For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 2 of 10 - The booty call flirting is next level with these two. Like Bed Friends but with less pain. I love that Nail is such needy evil wild child - the story gets all its tension from that.

Baby boy gives off so many danger signals I wouldn't tap that with a 10 ft… pole. Him is a braver queer than I. I do like how the high heat is being used to drive the story. It stands in stark contrast to Playboyy. Which is using high heat to drive, well... piles apparently.

Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 6 of 10 - I'm enjoying it again, the main couple is getting more BLish.

Bake Me Please (Mon Gaga) ep 3 of 6 - Shin and Peach flirting is very cute. Although they got into that sack swiftly. Guy leaving was contrived and reactions overwrought but okay babies.

Absolute Zero (Weds iQIYI) ep 11 of 12 - Now I'm mostly just confused.

Which timeline are we in?

Do they know each other in this one's past or not?

Have they met yet?

Who has which memories of what?

I feel like I’ve been through a lot for the show.

I’m not saying the reunion scene in the theater was worth it, but it was a really spectacular reunion scene. I’m terrified that there’s one more episode. I wish it had ended here.

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) 2 of 12 - I’m just not that into it.

Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 4 of 14 - A new ship has been set afloat, we are now Team #WayKim / #KimWay and if you're not with us, you're against us. Trash watch happening here.

Middleman’s Love (Fri YT & iQIYI ep 5 of 8 - oh look, it’s everybody’s favorite big brother!

That was a kind (and kind of lovely) coming out sequence. KingUea being the worst best Gay Advice Dads is awesome. Mai is SO SWEET. And we end on some good old miscommunication / misinterpretation, so that Jade can behave in an even more unhinged manner next ep. Our brief respite from absurdity has ended.

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) Fake Love ep 16 of 24 - They cute fake bf but it’s oddly unappealing. I mean most us queers have slept with each others exes, that’s swimming in a small pool, for ya. In my experience, only hets get butt hurt about it. (Hets never use enoug lube, they butt hurt about everything.) So the whole drama just felt confusing to me. Or maybe that's just my experience with swimming in lube? 4/10 whatever... not recommended

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 4 of 14 eps - I’m seriously considering dropping this.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

VIP Only (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 4 of 10 - They cute. Are aquariums now gay? That’s not the definition of fish that I grew up with.

Sahara-sensei to Toki-kun (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 2 of 8 - I'm suffering from terrible second lead syndrome. Glasses guy is new Best Boy. Also, Rise is trying to earn the Namgoong Award for Best Wingman.

It Finished But...

SHADOW (Thai Gaga) 14 eps - completed it's run. Reports are:

It's pretty good horror but not BL. Ending is unresolved.

Given that info and this review here, it's not for me. DNF

It's Airing But...

Behind the Shadows (Korea movie) - a historical I'm interested in (if it's BL) but have no idea how to find.

The Whisperer (Sun ????) 10 eps - Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). I don't think even the perfect single dimple can motivate me to watch. Word is... it's terrible.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) 10 eps - Giving me Luminous Solution vibes. I'm waiting to binge if it's safe.

Beyond The Star (Weds iQIYI) 8 eps - House of Stars meets Boyband. I was NOT impressed with ep 1. Been told I shouldn't bother.

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - I find this series more fun to binge, so I'm waiting until after it completes its run next week.

Next Week Looks Like This

12/14 Dear Kitakyushu (Thai/Japan movie) in theaters in country only, I know nothing about distribution.

Still coming:

12/23 Dead Friend Forever (Thai horror) iQIYI

Original 2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED). With the end of the year upon us I'll do an "announced for 2023 but never happened list" soon.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Of course I loved all the little language moments. I am here for the kinkification of phi.

That request for a shirt was v sexy phi+na. Thank you Jimmy.

Last Twilight bringing the pronoun and particle game to play hard.

It was a nice kiss. (Absolute Zero)

This as a perfunctory flirting kiss, I anticipate we still have The Kiss to come.

I love that Phaya's personality seems to be spin doctor, just accuse the boy of doing that you are already doing to him (or want him to do to you).

Boyfriend shirts!

And a meta reference.

The Sign is basically made for me.

(Last week)

#this week in bl #bl updates #Thai BL #Last Twilight #The Sign #my dear gangster oppa #cherry magic #for him the series #absolute zero #middleman's love #My Universe Fake Love

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the-s1lly-corner · 4 months

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Waking them up w/ a morning kiss! (TADC edition)

slowly but surely i am approaching the end of my tycoon... and yet despite the exhaustion creeping and making a home in my bones, i do not feel the desire to go to bed. perhaps its self destruction or carelessness, i'll be damned that this is the most productive ive been writing wise in a hot minute anyways requests are open

CAINE:

well this is assuming he sleeps... which personally, while i think the others CAN sleep (although they dont need to), i dont think.. caine can.. i think when he falls asleep its akin to how computers to. but one little tap is enough to snap him right back... so you may get startled when he snaps his jaws open the second your lips make contact with his teeth... but dont be alarmed...! hes not upset.. actually i think if anything he might be a little shocked at the gesture... oh he should have done it to you, damn it! definitely going to try to one up you that day, no one gets the jump on # 1 reader simp, Caine!!! 8/10 hes still very giddy and happy about it and hes in a good mood for the entire day

POMNI:

i think she might be a little too groggy to realize youve kissed her, but will flutter her eyes open if you give her another kiss. gets really red in the face before pushing herself deeper under the covers... i think shes generally like that with random gestures of affection and love, so please dont take this as her not enjoying the act! i promise she does like it, its just between this being standard reaction for her and just waking up shes a little... more bashful than she normally would be.. i think she would try to do the same to you the following day.. or maybe do a surprise gesture for you in return to even out the score! 7/10 very cute

RAGATHA:

as time passes i find myself making ragatha more and more of a sap, and honestly i dont hate the direction im going in. i think if you woke her up with a kiss, she would be smiling throughout the day and like caine, be in a more upbeat mood! its such a small thing to wake up to, but it means the world to her, you know? know these are starting to sound samesy with the 'returning the favor' thing but i think ragatha would at least double what you did for her.. you better incorporate the morning kisses into your routine because small stuff like that goes a long way for ragatha! 8/10

JAX:

i think he might just look at you before flipping over to face the other way and try to go back to sleep. its not totally to be mean to you and him being 'eeeewww affection' but mostly because hes not really.... a morning person. he never will be. kiss him all you want, hes not going to wake up... if he doesnt turn over, hes probably going to tug you to his chest and hold you still. probably grumbles at you to stop because he wants to sleep in that morning... but hey, look at it this way, you got some cuddling now! so hey at least theres some side of trade 5/10

KINGER:

i think he might nuzzle into your cheek and try to give you a 'kiss' back when he realizes what youre doing. pulls you to his chest, but he has full intent (unlike jax who mostly just wanted to keep you put and to make you stop moving around)... he may not have arms, but hes going to try his damndest to use his hands to keep you close... tries to push off the beginning of the day for a while longer... despite kinger actually being a morning person. leads to the two of you having a mumbled conversation about your dreams... very nice very sweet 8/10

ZOOBLE:

oh zooble is very much NOT a morning person, but i dont think they would be as mean as jax... they might mumble and tell you to hold back, but once theyre fully awake theyre going to set down some boundaries and apologize if they had upset you. they just dont like being woken up, no matter how sweetly... unless theres an emergency, they dont want to be woken up... though even then they might still be a little irritated... i think in this case swapping out morning kisses for something else that works better for both of you is the best course of action here 6/10

GANGLE:

i think she would lean right into it... maybe she wraps herself around you, if she hadnt already done that in her sleep... her mask is a little cold, so it might shock you a little and wake you up a lot more than you were expecting... oh i think gangle would feel bad about that... she didnt mean to make you uncomfortable (even though ultimately, youre not)...i think throughout the day she might be more happy and bubbly, perhaps even putting herself out more than she normally would. definitely a confidence boost for her! she even doesnt seem as sad or upset when her comedy mask breaks... i mean shes still... upset.. but not as much as she normally would be 7/10 very cute

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #caine x you #pomni x reader #pomni x you #ragatha x reader #ragatha x you #jax x reader #jax x you #kinger x reader #kinger x you #zooble x reader #zooble x you #gangle x reader #gangle x you

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captainremmington-13 · 2 months

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A Lady Made of Snow

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own The Hunger Games franchise, the images above, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, or any of the characters in this fic other than Bellova.

SUMMARY: The 10th Annual Hunger Games begin, and things quickly dissolve into chaos. Bellova grows increasingly furious about Coriolanus’s dedication towards Lucy Gray Baird. When she realizes he has cheated just to keep her alive, she decides to ruin him once and for all.

Warnings: spoilers for TBOSAS, death, violence, cursing, overall dark stuff (it’s the Hunger Games franchise so that’s sorta a given)

A/n: I am using a combination of the movie and book version of the events that occur in this chapter. I sort of streamlined the events to make the chapter less boring. Also, I highly recommend listening to “…Ready For It?” and “Look What You Made Me Do” while reading this chapter.

Other than Sejanus throwing a chair at the screen and screaming that everyone in the room was a monster, Lamina killing Marcus in an act of of mercy, and Lucky’s stupid commentary, nothing much had happened yet.

Bellova was disappointed that her tribute was dead. Not because she cared about her, but because it meant she was missing out on the mentor experience. The thrill of having a say in someone else’s survival seemed quite exciting.

If she wasn’t so pissed at Coriolanus for his behavior towards Lucy Gray, she would’ve reconsidered his proposal to work together.

When the day was coming to an end, the majority of Academy students started to leave for their homes. Only a handful remained, consisting mostly of the mentors.

Bellova stifled a yawn, leaning back in her chair. Things has gotten dull, with the tributes doing nothing but finding places to hide from each other. She hoped that Dr. Gaul had something exciting in store for them soon, or people would start switching to Billi Bumble’s horrible comedy channel.

She picked up her Academy satchel and stood up from her seat. She noticed that Coriolanus was still present and slumped over on his desk, his head resting on his hand. He looked so peaceful asleep, his long golden lashes fluttering slightly. The light from the ceiling made his light blonde curls glow ethereally.

He looked like an angel.

Bellova suddenly felt a strong urge to wake him up. She had avoided him for the entire day out of spite, but was starting to miss interacting to him. It was routine, bantering and bickering every day. Not talking felt…weird. And lonely.

She sighed. On rare occasions, she wished she could go back in time and change the way they formed their relationship. Instead of it being based on competition and rivalry, it would be full of support and affection.

Then, an unpleasant thought hit her.

He had only stayed so late to ensure nothing happened to Lucy Gray while he was away.

Now utterly furious, she slung her bag over her shoulder and started towards the door. ‘He’s such a pathetic sap,’ she thought. ‘He’s acting like a fool, I really should stop associating myself with him.’

But she found herself glancing over her shoulder to look at him one last time. And she knew, deep down, that she’s always come back, no matter how much he pissed her off.

She’d never be able to stay away from him.

Not for long, anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bellova passed out as soon as she climbed into bed, and didn’t wake until nine hours later. She hadn’t slept well in nearly a week, as she was still recovering from her injuries. This was the first time she was able to achieve an uninterrupted night of sleep since before the bombing.

When one of her maids woke her up, it was already 8:00. Usually Academy classes started promptly at 8:00, but because of the Games, the schedule had been loosened a bit. And Bellova, who didn’t feel like interacting with anyone, was in no rush to arrive on time.

After eating a breakfast of fruit and assorted pastries, she slowly pulled on her uniform. She has always hated the Academy uniforms, but with the right accessories and makeup, she had learned to make it presentable by her standards.

Bellova checked her makeup one last time in the mirror and then headed downstairs to meet her driver at the front of her estate. He opened the passenger’s side door for her as she slid into the seat.

“How are you this morning, Miss Bellova?” he asked, starting the engine and taking off towards the main road.

“Fine,” she said, leaning against the window. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope that once the Games are over, you can rest up properly.”

She nodded. “That would be nice. As much as I like the Games, they’ve caused quite a lot of stress this year.”

He laughed quietly. “Most certainly. Everyone was so worried about you when you were hospitalized, your father most of all. I haven’t ever seen him so upset in my twenty years of working for him.”

Bellova sighed. She and her father, Julio Augustus Reginelle, had a nice relationship. But he was rarely home, for he worked almost ten hours a day and often didn’t come home until Bellova was asleep. She cherished the rare moments she had with him. He had taught her to be proud of her wit and her combative nature, even if it sometimes got her into trouble.

“You are much more like your father than you realize, Miss Bellova,” her driver said.

“How so?” she asked.

“You are both kind until someone disrespects you. You are incredibly intelligent just like him, and pursue your goals relentlessly.” He paused for a moment. “And, you seem to have the same disdain for certain other Capitol families.”

Bellova raised an eyebrow. “Which ones?”

“Well, he’s not fond of the Cardews, as you know. He thinks they hold too much power for how little work they actually do.”

Bellova laughed. “That’s true.”

“He has never gotten along with the Creed family. He finds them irritating and foolish.”

She smirked. “I’m not surprised. Festus can be insufferable. Who else?”

Her driver sighed. “He despised Crassus Snow.”

Bellova felt her stomach twist. “Really?”

He nodded. “I don’t know exactly why he hated him so passionately, but I’ve heard they were rivals during their Academy days.”

‘I suppose I really do take after him then,’ Bellova thought, remembering her and Coriolanus’s worst arguments. ‘Crassus’s son gets under my skin nearly every day.’

Her driver pulled onto Scholars Road and stopped in front of the Academy’s main building. He stepped out of the car to open the door for her, and she gave him a nod of thanks.

“I’ll see you later, Miss Bellova,” he said, bowing slightly and getting back into the car to drive off.

As Bellova walked to the auditorium where the mentors were undoubtedly already at work, she pondered what her driver had said about Crassus Snow and her father. She was eager to know more about their history, but didn’t want to pry too far. Her father had a temper just like her, and she didn’t want to be on the wrong end of it.

When Bellova reached the room and walked through the doors, she immediately noticed three things: one, that Coriolanus looked exhausted and distressed, two, that he has brought his cousin Tigris to watch the Games, and three, that Sejanus was missing.

She grabbed a spare chair and sat next to Coriolanus. He didn’t greet her or even glance look at her.

“What’s wrong with you today?” she asked, looking at the large television screen in front of them.

He scowled. “I’m not in the mood for your snide remarks, Bellova.”

“Clearly something happened. Either tell me or I’ll figure it out on my own.”

Coriolanus gave her a sharp glare, but sighed in defeat. “We’ll talk about it later.”

Satisfied, Bellova turned her attention back to the Games. According to Lucky Flickerman, one tribute, Bobbin, had died overnight. However, there was no footage shown of him perishing.

Bellova found that awfully suspicious. There was such a lack of action in the arena that the gamemakers would have undoubtedly shown the death of a tribute.

When Bobbin’s death was announced, she noticed Coriolanus tense ever-so slightly. The average person wouldn’t have noticed, but she had learned to read his body language as well as the back of her hand. Clearly, something about his death made him nervous.

She decided to cast it aside for the moment. She’d pry the information out of him later.

“They aren’t showing us what happened to that little boy,” Lysistrata Vickers said. “He clearly was killed right there. There’s cameras everywhere. It doesn’t make sense.”

“They said they were old cameras, Lyssie,” Festus responded. “Probably just another one of Coral’s.”

“Festus, sit down,” Lucky Flickerman ordered. “Same seats.”

Festus scowled but did as he was told. He and Lucky clearly had some animosity, and it was quite amusing to witness their petty interactions.

Suddenly, after a few moments, Lucy Gray appears on screen, looking horrified. Bellova had to bite her lip to refrain from grinning. It seemed that the songbird’s luck was finally running out.

Jessup emerged a second later. He was clearly not well, he looked much worse than he did before the Games.

“What’d you do to me?” Jessup shrieked, backed Lucy Gray against a pile of rubble.

“Nothing!” she responded, her eyes wide with fear.

“Lyssie, what is he doing?” Bellova heard Coriolanus asked frantically.

“Something’s wrong,” Lysistrata replied, bewildered. “He wouldn’t turn on her like this.”

“Jessup going after Lucy Gray,” Lucky commented.

“Stop running!” Jessup demanded. “What did you…” He groaned mid-sentence. “What did you do to me?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Lucy Gray insisted.

“Both tributes from District 12. The same district folding in on itself.”

“Wait, look. The foam,” Coriolanus said.

“I think it’s rabies,” Lysistrata said, clearly disturbed. “That bite. From that train.”

Coriolanus stared at the screen, looking helplessly at his tribute who was nearing her inevitable doom. Then, he turned back to Jessup’s mentor.

“Send him water.”

“Wait, what?” Lysistrata asked.

“You remember the posters in the war? Rabies. It makes you afraid of water. Send him a drone.”

“That’ll scare him,” she protested.

“Yes. Away from her,” he insisted.

Bellova stood up. “Coriolanus-“

“Bellova, be quiet,” he snapped, not even bothering to look at her. “Jessup is done. Lyssie, you’re the only one that can get it right to him.”

Lysistrata clearly didn’t want to, but with a few clicks on her computer, water was being sent to Jessup by a drone.

“Thank you,” Coriolanus whispered.

Within minutes, Jessup was dead, and four lethal tributes were cornering Lucy Gray.

“Oh, look at this,” Lucky Flickerman said. “The Pack doing what they do best. Packing it in. Lucy Gray is swarmed, cornered. Mizzen, propellering his net.”

It looked again as if she was done for, but then-

“Mr. Snow going for his communipad,” Lucky continued. Bellova saw him send nine - no, ten drones towards Lucy Gray.

Bellova knew exactly what he was doing. He was using the drones to give her a chance to escape.

The drones came flying into the arena, causing The Pack to scatter. A few of them got hit, causing them cry out in pain and tumble to the stone-covered floor.

“These drones are not very good,” Lucky commented, as if it weren’t obvious. Some of the students who had caught onto Coriolanus’s plan started to jeer at him.

“Hey!” Vipsania Sickle said indignantly. “You can’t attack the tributes.”

“I’m just sending water,” Coriolanus said casually, as if he was completely innocent.

After gathering her bearings, Lucy Gray scrambled into a tunnel with Coral on her heels. She managed to pull the vent closed just in time, the metal door nearly crushing Coral’s fingers.

Bellova positioned herself a few inches away from Coriolanus. She was seething, but it didn’t show on her face. She simply looked indifferent, despite all of the violence that had just occurred in the Games.

“Snow, do you that time before the Dark Days when you pulled on my pigtails, so I slammed your face against my school desk?”

“Yes,” Coriolanus said, furrowing his eyebrows. “What about it?”

Bellova smiled crookedly, the violent glint in her eyes making Coriolanus visibly uncomfortable. “I’m about to fucking do it again, and this time, you’ll have more than a bleeding nose.”

He straightened his posture, smoothing out his Academy blazer.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Bellova’s hands twitched. She knew that decking him in front of the majority of the student board would get her in severe trouble, but it was very tempting.

Instead of punching him, she started to storm out of the auditorium.

“There goes Miss Reginelle. Clearly, the violence on screen has finally gotten to her-“

“Shut the fuck up, Flickerman, before I snap your microphone in half!” Bellova hissed. She threw up open the doors, and made sure to slam them behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bellova sat in the hallway outside of the auditorium, leaning her head against the wall behind her. Her anger was threatening to spill over, and her father would be very disappointed in her if she murdered someone on Academy grounds.

She had vowed to make Coriolanus pay if he pulled any more strings for his little songbird. And he had by sending that fleet of drones after her attackers. But clearly, nobody batted an eye at that. He had not been punished, or even reprimanded.

The thought of Coriolanus thinking longingly about Lucy Gray was almost enough to drive her mad.

Before she could do anything drastic, she heard the speakers inside the auditorium amplifying Dr. Gaul’s voice. Curious, she stood up and pressed her ear to the doors.

“Capitol citizens, I’m afraid I must interrupt our Games to announce a tragic loss, one that affects us all. Felix Ravinstill, son of our beloved president, has, this morning, succumbed to his injuries sustained in the rebel bombing.”

Bellova felt her heart drop. Felix wasn’t all that bad, when he wasn’t bragging about his life at least. She had even gone to the end-of-year Academy gala with him a couple of years ago. They had a wonderful time, and she was gifted a priceless gold necklace by him at the end of the night. She had worn it for a week straight afterwards, which delighted the young son of the president.

“Out there in the districts, they will be celebrating this young boy’s death as a triumph. I will not allow my Games to give our enemy such a victory. I swear to you, here and now, before the sun goes down tonight, a rainbow of destruction will engulf our arena. Even if it means there’s to be no victor in these Games.”

She gasped. She knew Dr. Gaul well enough to know she was completely serious. If she wanted someone gone, she’d stop at nothing until they dropped dead.

Mere moments later, Coriolanus burst through the doors, nearly slamming right into Bellova.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked, scowling at him.

He sneered down at her, beginning to walk away. She followed him, despite knowing he really didn’t want her to. “As if I’d tell you.”

Bellova sighed. “I told you earlier, Coriolanus, if you don’t tell me, I’ll figure it out on my own-“

“Fine!” he huffed. “I’d do anything to shut you up at this point. You’re insufferable.”

“The feeling is mutual, Snow. Now spill it, what’s going on?”

Coriolanus, against his better judgement, told her everything. Well, almost everything. He told her about how he retrieved Sejanus from the arena, but omitted the part about killing Bobbin. He explained that he needed to see Dr. Gaul immediately, for the stitches in his back from the previous evening were coming loose.

Bellova frowned. She briefly felt bad that he was in pain, but couldn’t bring herself to actually care. She was still angry at him.

She also noticed he said was being very vague with his details. He was definitely hiding something.

“What’s that face for?” Coriolanus asked as they approached the Citadel, which housed Gaul’s laboratory.

“What face?”

“That scowl. You’re clearly not pleased about something, so what is it?”

She smirked. “As if I’d tell you,” she said, mimicking his words from earlier.

Coriolanus’s jaw clenched, which satisfied Bellova immensely. She loved seeing his patience waver, it was strangely addicting.

“Will you ever learn to keep your bratty mouth shut?” he asked, his voice raising a touch.

“Bratty?” Bellova scoffed. “I’d prefer it if you called me a bitch.”

Dr. Gaul’s lab was just a few corridors away at this point. Bellova knew that causing a scene here wouldn’t be wise, but she honestly did not care. She could easily talk her way out if it.

Coriolanus glowered at her, his blue eyes icier than ever. “Go back to the auditorium, Bellova. I know you love watching the Games, and you’re probably missing all of the action.”

She laughed. “So all of a sudden, you want me to be happy. Seriously, Snow, if you want to get rid of me, just say so.”

He smirked at her condescendingly. “Then I will. Get out of here, you have no place in Gaul’s lab anyway. It’s too much for your pathetically shallow brain to comprehend.”

Bellova stared at him for a moment. It has been awhile since he’d said something quite that harsh. It was normal for him to question her intellect, but calling her dumb? That was low, even for him.

Coriolanus was obviously anticipating a slap to the face. He was not prepared, however, for Bellova to swipe her claw-like nails across his face like a wild animal.

Stunned, he watched Bellova walk away as the new gashes on his face began to sting. As she reached the end of the hall, she screamed “You’re such an asshole!” before disappearing from Coriolanus’s sight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bellova sat in the stands instead of with the mentors, watching as Dr. Gaul’s “rainbow of destruction” engulf the remaining tributes in the arena.

She had no idea that when Dr. Gaul said “rainbow”, she was referring to hundreds of colorful, deadly snakes.

She watched, entranced, as the beautiful mutations smothered the tributes, picking them off one-by-one. She had never admired the “mad” scientist more. Her work was truly beautiful.

Wovey, Reaper, Mizzen, and Coral were soon dead, lying lifelessly beneath the swarm of snakes.

“Now, all colors lead to Gray,” Lucky Flickerman said.

Coriolanus stood watching the screen, amazed at his own success. “She’s… She’s won. It’s over, she’s won.” He looked over to Dr. Gaul, who was standing to the side. “She’s won, let her out.”

The doctor smiled. “Afraid that’s not your call to make, Mr. Snow.”

Bellova bit back a laugh when Lucy Gray began to sing. At least she’d be able to get in once last performance before her vocal chords went slack.

“Dr. Gaul, she won!” Coriolanus repeated, desperation seeping into his voice. “It’s over, let her out.”

“Why aren’t they attacking her?” someone asked.

“Must be the singing,” Coriolanus replied. “It’s calming them.”

He really was a terrible liar.

“She can’t sing forever,” Festus said.

Bellova noticed some of the students around her begin to cry as they watched Lucy Gray sing shakily. ‘Pathetic,’ she thought.

“Dr. Gaul, please,” Coriolanus begged. “Get her out. Get her out!”

One by one, the Academy students began to chant “Get her out! Get her out!”, almost overpowering the sound of Lucy Gray’s singing.

‘No,’ Bellova thought desperately. ‘Don’t. Just let her die.’

Then, Coriolanus said, “Who will watch the Games if there’s no victor?”

The chanting came to a halt.

Dr. Gaul looked around, seeing that she was vastly outnumbered. “Get her out,” she murmured just loud enough to be heard.

“She’s won! Lucy Gray!” Lucky Flickerman cried over the roar of the student body. “Coriolanus Snow is the winner of the 10th Annual Hunger Games!”

Bellova’s face burned with fury, her patience finally snapping after days of wearing thin.

She was no longer willing to overlook Coriolanus’s behavior. She had let him get away with too much.

It was time that he faced some real consequences.

As she exited the hall quietly, she smiled, a cruel, twisted smile. She knew exactly how she would make him pay.

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊

TAGLIST: @daenerysqueenofhearts, @squidscottjeans, @euphemiaamillais, @gracieroxzy

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments! This was another decently long chapter, and I believe it has been the most intense one yet. Stay tuned for Chapter Six!

Also, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow x oc #original character #thg prequel #the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #dr gaul #lucy gray baird

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skibasyndrome · 7 days

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what do you think wilmon is doing right now at this very moment on april 23, 2024?

oh my god sjkaskdfhdsafkadshf this feels like a math question almost, wait, I am so lost on the timeline.......... happy car scene was 2021, right? Either way THANK YOU, WHAT A LOVELY QUESTION 💜💜💜

Okay well I'd like to believe that they are currently taking a little evening walk through Stockholm (where both of them study at university). They're meeting Felice for dinner later and, responsible as they are (mostly because Simon will not let Wille get in the way of his studying, pretty and kissable and right there as he is), they've already finished their reading and assignments for the next day back at the library (a good place for studying because there's less risk of giving into the temptation of having a very pretty, very kissable boyfriend right there). They're holding hands. Wille has taken Simon's hand and buried it in his coat jacket while still holding onto it tightly because while he'd love to swing their hands around between them (he will normally never miss an opportunity to show the world that this is the guy whose hand he gets to hold) he knows that Simon does not enjoy the cold one bit, and he will do anything to keep him warm. It means they can't walk quite as briskly as they normally would and it also means that they keep bumping their shoulder into each other, but that's honestly not a problem, in fact that makes it just a little bit more fun (because, with that as well, Wille will never miss an opportunity to show the world that this is his boyfriend and that he is Simon's boyfriend and he's very happy to be that couple hogging most of the space on the sidewalk). They're enjoying the last minutes of sunshine, both because it makes the cold a little more bearable (Simon doesn't mind having to squint, give him every last ray of sun please) and because, in Wille's opinion, Simon just looks extra beautiful in the golden light (like it's not actually the sun, but him that's glowing). Simon pulls his hand out of Wille's grasp to fix his beanie and pull it further down, hiding his ears from the relentless wind and Wille gets that, but it's really hard not to pout when he's suddenly no longer able to touch Simon. And like he can read his mind (every day it gets a little more difficult to believe that Simon doesn't actually have psychic abilities), Simon turns to give Wille that look, lips curling in the corners of his mouth like he's trying to keep that beautiful, wide grin that Wille knows so well from breaking out, eyes crinkling in the most adorable way; that look that means you're unbelievable, you're such a sap, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, you make my heart ache. And Wille, knowing full and well that he is a sap (and that Simon loves it), bites his lip so he doesn't start giggling (no, years later he still hasn't gotten over those butterflies that flood his chest when he can see his own love and adoration mirrored back in Simon's eyes) and that's all it takes for Simon to slip his hand back into Wille's coat pocket and to intertwine their fingers again as they continue on their path.

(a photo I took on a walk in Stockholm for the ~mood~)

#wilmon #WELL THAT ESCALATED #sorry Martina you truly bring out the worstbest/bestworst in me <3 #themarsbar #answered #young royals

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whump-on-a-string · 3 months

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Whump but it's that Cozy escapism gilded cage(?) carewhumper-ish sort of whump that's practically mostly comfort but still technically whump because I am a fucking sap.

Yes I'm talking about Rare Bookseller. Whatever vibe that is? It's exactly what I am talking about.

#whump #My Art #Rare Bookseller #I have Bookseller brainrot #Original #meme #shitpost #but also totally serious

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theminecraftbee · 5 months

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hiiiii fellow cletho enjoyer im also going insane about secret life and id finally like to put together a cletho playlist to enhance my brainworms did you (or anyone else) perhaps maybe have any suggestions thanksssssss <3<3

you sent me this and I immediately went “oh no I have to be impressive—oh no my music taste is not impressive”, which truly says more about me than anyone else. anyway, some suggestions, and I’d LOVE to hear whatever you all come up with too!!! I’d love a cletho playlist to also enhance MY rotating them.

“Angela” by the Lumineers is on here because the refrain of “Home at last, home at last” makes me weep and now I want to gently hand it to cletho. To be fair, the imagery of the song maybe fits better as either “after everything over all the seasons” or “some fic where they meet up again post-secret life” than secret life by itself. I am just a sap and this goes on like. half my playlists for things that make me feel sappy.

“This Will End” by the Oh Hellos. “No I’m not afraid to die/it’s every breath that comes before.” yeah this is the obligatory oh hellos song I’m handing to cletho. “I can hope how this will end/with every line a comedy./We can learn to love without demand/with unreserved honesty.” it is, once again, one that works better with the context of the entire series than secret life by itself; in my head this is both a song about their relationship and about the things they’ve been trying to learn and get over ALL their relationships over secret life, you know?

“Stray Italian Greyhound” by Vienna Tang is a song about reluctantly and unexpectedly getting hope from something that the singer doesn’t expect. about meeting someone and discovering that you can still have hope in the world after all despite feeling like you should be a pessimist. and like I DON’T KNOW MAN I THINK IT FITS THEM PERSONALLY…

and like. OKAY I AM REALIZING I MOSTLY HAVE VIBES NOT SONGS I CAN JUSTIFY. but I can justify these three. handing them to you. I would love to hear other suggestions too I actually had trouble finding songs with the vibes I was looking for in my listening rotation,,,

#answered

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chrisevansonly · 6 months

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I know you mostly wanted Lewis Hamilton but idk who he is but I have a blurb idea for Harry! Fall/winter snuggles(I seriously need this rn tbh)

thank you to this sweet love for requesting this little blurb idea! i love a good soft and fluffy harry and this just felt perfect to write plus i needed this too<3

snow had now been falling for a few hours, the streets around your london flat were covered in the soft white flakes, the air cold, but for you and harry: there was only warmth between you.

it was nice when harry had a break and didn’t have to tour anymore because you had loads of time to catch up and just enjoy being back together full time.

“s’pretty isn’t it h”

“yeah you are…”

you shook your head, a shy smile creeping up on your lips as you turned to look at your boyfriend who, no surprise, was already looking at you, his eyes filled with nothing but pure adoration

“no silly, the snow…not me”

“yeah i suppose the snow’s pretty…but you’re prettier”

“such a sap”

how was harry’s turn to laugh as his arms wrapped around you, brining you down to rest against his chest again, his hands drawing shapes on your back softly

“m’only a sap for you, remember that”

“mhm…besides if i’m being honest, you’re prettier than the snow too”

harry couldn’t help the blush that rose on his cheeks, a common occurrence whenever you threw a compliment his way, or a slurry of sweet words

“i love you so much you know that…right?”

“you’re about to ask me to go out in the snow”

you scored dramatically

“i am not-okay yes i am going to ask you that..”

“hmm”

one pout from you and that was all it took for harry to smile, sitting up just enough to press his lips to yours

“alright fine..fifteen more minutes and then we’ll go…and lovie?”

“yeah?”

“i love you too.”

he loved you enough as is, but you knew he really loved you when he was willing to leave your bed to join you in the snow, because let’s face it, seeing you smile and happy was worth more in the world than any price tag or jewel…even if that meant going out in the snow.

#rueswrites #ruesanswers #ruesanons<3 #ruesasks #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles drabble #harry styles x wife reader #harry styles x girlfriend reader #harry styles x female reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles imagine

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monstercampus · 6 months

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Ellie help I have werewolf brain rot and Kirk has been living in my mind rent free the past few nights 😩 please tell me more about him, does he have a secret soft side or is being mean his love language and you know he cares about you if he's giving you a hard time? Why does he live in a dorm by himself? Where is he on the possessive scale? Honestly just tell me everything you know about him so I can simp to the best of my ability 🥺😫🙏

And actually while I'm here, anything about Elliott or Julian would also be tasty 👀👀👀 forgive me for the werewolf team fic altered my brain chemistry and I may never be the same

absolutely !! !!!!! i am at your mercy uwu <33 (this is mostly stream of consciousness so if u want more i am READY)

(cws: kirk being a sap + lore)

Kirk is very much that way--giving you a hard time is generally how he shows he cares about you. He's only truly mean to those he doesn't care about, and trust that there is a difference even when you get frustrated over his attitude in the beginning. He didn't grow up with a lot of love in his household so it's really not his area of expertise, he never really learned how to show it and only started experiencing affection when he joined the pack and made friends with all the other werewolves. Being snuggled, having his hair stroked instead of pulled, listening to his friends talk about him being handsome and smart even if he's got a shitty attitude.....it's weird to him. He doesn't hate it deep down, but he hates how it makes him feel vulnerable when he doesn't want to be.

'Vulnerable' is barely even in his vocabulary, which is why he comes at you with so much heat at first. He'd been hoping and praying that you two could boink, have a good time, and then you would pretend like it never happened so he wouldn't have to face any of those feelings he has when he looks at you. But when you don't, and when you're just so sweet, Kirk can't handle it and has to revert to what he knows: being a dick. Not nearly to the extent of how he is with other people, but just enough to keep you at arm's length in his constant fear that you're gonna end up making him feel like he isn't totally worthless. Because what would he do then? He's accepted the role of being an irredeemable, raging douchebag for pretty much all his life. He's got an attitude, his temper is awful, he doesn't consider himself that good-looking, he's got some of the worst grades out of the whole pack, he fixates on things and lets them consume all his thoughts, and he hasn't even got any palate to boot and will eat just about anything, even if it's on the verge of spoiling. He's total garbage and he's friends with a pack of people that couldn't be more perfect; Julian is incredibly charming, Portia's practically a genius, Nick is insanely handsome, Elliott is so gentle and really funny, Priam is a total sweetheart and Athos is the pinnacle of cool in his eyes. How could he even think of measuring up to all that, much less stick out among the rest and prove he's worth even a little bit of your love?

That may be the most frustrating part about Kirk--he can be the prickliest guy you know and he would die before he ever says those things out loud, but he seriously admires his friends and you yet he has little to no belief in himself. Granted, growing up he would've gotten his ass beat for showing that kind of weakness, so it's still deeply ingrained in him as an adult--especially since the pack are pretty much the first friends he's ever made on his own. And at his core, he's jealous. Jealous of them and their nice families, jealous of how well they all turned out despite going through their own struggles, jealous of how easy it is for them to be open when he's terrified of people finding out he's bi, jealous of you for being so brave and so beautiful in equal measure....so that's why the best thing he can do--in his own opinion of course--is to be your collective guard dog.

After all, Kirk isn't afraid to bite. His instincts are hard to control in his human form, could you even imagine how feral he can get when he's full wolf, or even just close to the full moon? If anything it's what he's good at; hunting, beating ass, and taking a punch. If he can't be as good as you and the others deserve, the least he can do is make sure that sweetness and the goodness of your souls isn't ever dominated by someone else. He'll spill blood, he doesn't care. He would even get suspended if it came to that, expelled, arrested, whatever it takes and he'll let the chips fall where they may. You'll know his love for you is real when he starts acting protective over you, not only when other people try to bother you but as far as your daily needs as well. Have you eaten properly? Are you thirsty? Do you need to sleep? When's the last time you stretched? He acts like it's a favour he's doing for you, like you're a little wolf that needs caring after, but in truth it settles his own self-doubts and makes him happier knowing that he's doing something for you--that he's taking care of you like a mate would, and when you smile at him or thank him for his help he just melts. He would do anything to keep hold of that smile.

.....Which is why he's got a plan in his head for after graduation. He and Nick are the oldest and thus are going to graduate first of all of you, so once that's over and done with he's got plans to start building a place for you all to properly call 'home'. It's nothing crazy--just a cabin in the woods--but if there's one thing he can confidently say he's good at it's woodworking, and he's sketched out the designs to make it everything you could ever want.

Personal rooms for you, him, and Portia who has trouble falling asleep when it's noisy. A big living room with enough sofas to fit you all. Polished oak walls like Julian grew up with and always wanted to see again. A bathtub big enough to fit Nicky's giant, muscly legs without spilling over. Tables and chairs to fit everyone and more, to fit all the family gatherings and maybe even the pups you might have one day. A garden out back where he'll plant those ugly little flowers Elliott loves. Trees and greenery around where they can run and hunt and play during the full moon, totally obscured by the rest of the world. A big fucking chandelier in the dining room to intimidate any friends you bring over that think they're hot enough shit to snatch you. It's gonna be perfect, it's gonna be the one thing he can say he's proud of in practically his whole life. It'll be a gift to all of you for putting up with his assholery for so damn long, for sticking with him even when he couldn't find a single reason why you should.

That's the kind of love Kirk shows. Words don't mean much to him--actions and acts of service are how he expresses his affections, because it's much simpler for him to put work into something he can touch and measure and paint rather than throw some flimsy words around and call it love. Plus, one of the reasons why he lives in his own dorm is because his downtime is incredibly important to him. Usually he would request a private one-bedroom apartment, but this year he was assigned roommates that he very quickly drove away with his annoying habits almost entirely on purpose. If he's not comfortable with someone, then like hell is he going to share an intimate living space with them--and after a long day he just needs time to be completely alone. He has to think, work on his projects, exercise, chew on something, and have no prying eyes around that will impede his progress in trying to figure out how the hell he can try to make himself worthy of being loved by you. A dumb, violent wolf reaching to grab the very moon from the sky.

#kirk (mc)#werewolf x reader #werewolf team #monster boyfriend #monster campus lore #neutral pov #ellie writes #phantom-ofthelibrary #anons #werewolf boyfriend

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ladykissingfish · 2 months

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*Sasori sitting on a chair by Deidara’s bed, bandaging him up after a particularly rough fight with enemy nin*

Sasori: Stop fidgeting, will you? *dabs alcohol on a cut before wrapping a cloth bandaid around it*

Deidara: But it hurts … can’t you give me some medicine or something, hm?

Sasori: Before I do, Dei, you and I have to have a talk.

Deidara: *groans and absently picks at the end of a bandaid* No we don’t, Danna. I already know what you’re gonna say.

Deidara, imitating Sasori’s voice: “Your recklessness is getting out of hand, brat. Your foolish actions put not only yourself in danger, but the entire mission. You need to learn to think before you act and curb your childish impulses.”

Deidara, in his own voice, laying down on his bed: Does that about cover it?

Sasori: *is quiet for a while, walking around and tidying Deidara’s room*

Sasori, softly: It’s always been rather difficult for me, to express myself emotionally. Even before I turned myself into a puppet. *sits at the edge of Deidara’s bed* But you … you bring things out of me that I’ve had buried for a long time. One of those things is worry. I worry so much for you, Deidara.

Deidara: Sasori, I —

Sasori: No, no interrupting. Let me speak. You make me worry, and seeing you like this, bruised and bloodied, well, if I still had blood it would be boiling. Because I look at you and I see so much potential, so much energy and ambition. So much life, Deidara.

Sasori: And it … it saddens me, a great deal. Because you … *reaches out and takes Deidara’s hands* You are the first person in my entire existence that’s made me happy to be alive. And whatever time I have with you, I don’t want to see it cut short by you getting seriously hurt, or killed, because of something as stupid as you not being more careful with yourself.

Deidara:

Deidara: *slowly sits up* Am … am I allowed to speak now?

Sasori: Yes.

Deidara: I’m … not the best with emotions either, hm. But all that stuff you said? Well, I … I love you, too, Sasori. I mean, if that’s what you meant.

Sasori: *smiles* It was. So you’re going to take better care of yourself in battle?

Deidara: Yes, hm.

Sasori: Good. *leans over and kisses Deidara’s cheek* Thank you.

Deidara: *blushes a dark pink* Y-you’re welcome. *lays back down* Stay with me until I fall asleep? We can talk, hm. I think we have a lot to talk about now.

Sasori: *smiles and lays down next to him, wrapping his arms around his waist* We do indeed. I —

*from the wall*

Hidan: F-fuck you both! T-t-that was the stupidest damn confession I ever heard!

Kakuzu: This big sap is over here bawling like a baby. Congratulations, you have my respect for accomplishing the impossible.

Hidan: Fuck you, you old bastard! I’m not crying! It’s ALLERGIES!

Itachi, from the other wall: I’m not ashamed to admit that that has me tearing up, as well. Absolutely beautiful, both of you. Congratulations.

Konan, from the hallway: Only please give us a heads-up for when you intend to, er, BE with each other. Partly so we can all leave to give you privacy, but mostly because we all have bets going as to when it’ll happen. Sasori and Deidara:

#sasodei #sasori x deidara #sasori #deidara #naruto #the akatsuki #bits of this kept coming to me when I was trying to nap so 🤷🏽‍♀️#fluff #love confessions #❤️💛#🦂💥

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fever-project · 17 days

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LU Superhero AU Rambling

It’s so hard to write my thoughts about my Superhero AU into words, so let’s skip a good chunk of the lore and talk about the Links. I’m going to be a bit incoherent because I am very tired right now.

Sky - So for starters there are Blessings and there are Powers. Powers are typically biological and Blessings are well, blessings from the gods. In Sky’s case, his Blessing was his prophetic dreams from Hylia. His Power is um, honestly somewhat body horror so I won’t describe it too much. To put it simply, he grows a bunch of wings, like a biblically accurate angel. And he has a bunch of feathers. Anyways, his Power is a secret to everyone, including Sun, mostly because he recently discovered that he had this power. Everyone else just thinks that his Blessing is actually his Power. So he doesn’t go out into the fray often, but he is good friends with all of the Heroes and Knights. He also goes go-karting with Wild.

Wild - Okay, it’s crazy time now. So Wild used to be a Hero in training and Flora’s personal Knight, but then the Calamity struck(which was much shorter compared to canon because modern AU) and he lost his memories while the other Champions lost their lives. As well as a bunch of other people like Wild’s entire family but let’s not worry about that. He got trapped in a multiple month coma while Flora held the Calamity in place. Then Wild woke up and helped end the Calamity. He didn’t wield the Master Sword for long(he physically couldn’t after he woke up, it burned him and sapped away his life force)but he did speed run fixing the Divine Beasts and gaining the Champion’s Power, since his Power is being able to use the Powers of ghost/spirits. But he kept this Power a secret mainly because he was in complete and utter denial about the ghosts of his friends following him around. He still thinks that he’s just gone crazy, because he would rather have that.

Twilight - Heheh. So, he doesn’t have a Power but does have a Blessing, which is his ability to turn into a wolf. He parades around in his wolf most of the time, the public believing that he’s just a magic wolf spirit that decided to protect humans. Time also used to do that, so everyone thinks the two wolves are related somehow. Twilight and Time are actually cousins in this AU, because they have to be related somehow. He has a heavy face of goth makeup to cover up his markings whenever he wants to go out. But he generally just stays in wolf form most of the time, his Hylian form having the wolf pelt covering his face-with the Hawkeye mask on underneath it-so that when he is forced to transition into a Hylian, no one would know who he was. He also doesn’t talk too much while disguised, only talking to Wild and Red.

Time - He’s a Hero, but not for the reasons you think. He doesn’t use his Power, or even most of his masks, he’s just a great fighter and can be very intimidating. He wears the Mask of Truth almost all the time while on duty, with some people thinking that it allows him to read the minds of his opponents. It doesn’t do that, but it does helps him talk to Twi while he’s in wolf form. When not on duty, he’s on the farm, with his lovey wife Malon and occasionally blessed with the appearance of Twi in his full face of goth makeup. Time knows that the wolf is Twi but doesn’t tell him, it’s a lot funnier this way.

Wars - So there was this time war that no one remembers except for him, Lana, Commander(aka Artemis but I don’t like calling her that sry), and General Impa. So most know of Wars as an exceptionally excellent Knight turned Hero, who is currently training a younger Hero, Wind. Wars’ Power is the ability to use and identify different magical attributes, like Light, Dark, Fire, Water, and Lightning. Also because of the time war, everything kinda got messed up. Basically, it’s the cause of this AU every existing. Wars is very aware of this. He feels very responsible for this, because the whole thing started because Cia is a horrible person and wanted to be with him.

Wind - His Hero name is Wind Waker. Need I say more. He has wind powers. I honestly can’t think of much for him rn, I’m so sorry.

Four - He still hides the fact that he can split into four, but now he is split into four all the time while on duty. Legend is the only one who is aware of this, mainly because he had used the 4Sword before. Four’s Power is being able to turn into a Minish. Also Red is besties with Wolf Twi, they care so much about each other it’s so cute and I wish I could share all my thoughts about it. But alas, I am not going to, because I am far too tired.

Legend - The most famous Hero, unfortunately. He has no Powers of his own, but he does have a fuck ton of magical items and is very skilled with them. Before the story starts he had just came back from Hytopia, being a Triforce Ranger and having the time of his life. But now he has the Power to move his soul between the Doppels, and potentially…other vessels. He’s not going to tell anybody about this, of course not. Currently is training Hyrule, because he feels like Hyrule is connected to him, somehow.

Hyrule - He has a lot of Powers, he is the magic man. He’s a Hero in training even though he already saved two Zeldas, but that’s partially because his area of Hyrule he was from was far away from the area of Hyrule the story’s set. They don’t know much about him and his Zeldas.

Also this is all subject to change and may not be indicative of my actual thoughts and plans for this AU since I am not great at explaining things, especially right now.

#linked universe #linked universe au #lu sky #lu wild #lu twilight #lu time #lu warriors #lu wind #lu four #lu legend #lu hyrule #super hero au #god this kept getting more and more incoherent as I wrote on. literally have to stop myself because no one would understand what I’m saying #I barely understand what I was saying ngl #I’ll uh revisit this one day #I got a lot to say about four twi and wild specially #fever rambles

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that-ari-blogger · 24 days

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Spiraling Upwards (The Price Of Power)

Repetition is the bread and butter of She-Ra and the Princesses of Power. The series is about cycles of abuse and trauma, and the tragedy inherent in that. It's about breaking out of those rythms, and to do that, it needs to establish what is holding its characters back.

But, showing the same thing over and over again is boring. It's stale, and overplayed, and stale, and overplayed, and stale. See what I mean?

Season three of the series shakes things up. It is a masterclass in twisting a formula to its breaking point, and that starts with The Price Of Power.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD: (She Ra and the Princesses of Power)

The title of this episode has so many meanings that it's impressive. The price of power is what it says on the tin, but it could relate to almost any character in this.

Shadow Weaver finally has her villainy catching up to her (side note, the animation of SW's magic side effect, which I will be referring to as "death juice", is stellar), and it is sapping her life. Catra is realising that her security wasn't as solid as she thought. Adora is making a Faustian bargain with her abuser. Even Angella is weighing up decisions about her family and her kingdom.

Angella's compete lack of willingness to let Adora near the source of her trauma sets her up as an actual maternal figure for Adora, rather than the simple source of authority that she has been up until this point. Remember this, it will come up later on in the season.

That reframes the conflict between Angella and Shadow Weaver's conflict, turning it into mother vs mother, and their ideologies come into conflict. Altruism vs selfishness. And, with that in mind, I'd like to do a shot breakdown of that scene.

The principle I will be using here is screen presence. Typically (I am using the word "typically" here because this isn't a rule, its a generalisation. There are exceptions), the person who takes up the most of the screen has the most control in the scene. This stems from a few places, but mostly it's just that humans are hardwired to associate "big" with "powerful", so the person who is the largest in your perspective has the most power.

Stable, wide shot. Nothing is really happening yet, Shadow Weaver is learning her surroundings and how trapped she is. She is small, and crouched, and boxed in by that barrier and forcefield. Simple stuff.

This shot is diagonal, bending backwards so that the audience can look over Shadow Weaver's shoulder at Angella. The two are roughly equal in screen presence, so the angle sells the power dynamic, mostly. It is a bit up in the air at this point, the audience isn't sure which way this interaction will go.

"This is a prison?" "Why does everyone keep...? Of course this is a prison."

Look who's the largest now. Shadow Weaver looks down on Angella, as she finds a crack in her psyche, and the queen reacts predictably. Now Shadow Weaver has a weakness she can exploit, and she takes control.

We are closer to Shadow Weaver than either Angella or Castaspella, reflecting the immediate change in dynamic. Now Angella and her sister-in-law vie with each other for control, disorganised against a monolithic force.

These two are powerless against her. She frames them in the smallest possible space, her very presence confining them and removing their agency.

This should be Castaspella taking control. She accuses Shadow Weaver of something concrete, but Shadow Weaver takes that away. The camera draws in, removing Castaspella from the frame, literally siphoning off her control of the scene.

This scene wasn't the point of this post, but I felt it needed a little more time, as it shows just who Shadow Weaver is. She is a parasite, who feeds on other people's trauma and wounds. She leads with the fact that she has hurt this woman's daughter, then plays on her deceased brother, then turns that same blade into Castaspella.

It is also worth noting that this is Shadow Weaver at her worst. She has been given a chance to try something new, to gain empathy and healing from people who would probably give it to her if she was honest with them. But Shadow Weaver is two things: cruel, and ambitious. She is awful to the people she needs, in order to get to the person she wants.

That person is Adora, of course. This season shakes things up by changing the trajectory of the arcs. Instead of Catra falling further and further, with Adora managing to climb out of her own trauma, it's the reverse. At least until the end.

So, Adora begins in a good place, and Catra begins at rock bottom. Adora has a support network, and feels in control of her own life, but Catra wakes up in a jail cell, reliving her recent punishment at the hands of Hordack.

This is also the season in which ideologies get challenged most overtly. Starting with Glimmer and Bow.

Bow believes that good people do good things and bad people do bad things. Which is a neat sentiment and I kind of agree. The problem, is that he has associated "bad people" with "the horde", and has rationalised Adora as different because of She-Ra. To his credit, when he is confronted about this, he rethinks things. Bow is a simple character, and he needs to be to contrast with the rest of the cast.

Glimmer has that black and pink morality that I mentioned in my post on Rolling With It. She believes in a very distinct idea of good and evil that doesn't really match up with the rest of the series. She skirts the edge of being an anti-hero at times, which is a phenomenal choice for a story about war. Most obviously:

"Listen up, lady. After all your kidnapping and mind-wiping, I am just looking for a reason to serve up a little payback. So, if you do anything to hurt Adora..."

So, at this point, Glimmer thinks Shadow Weaver is working for the Horde, which would make her a prisoner of war. I'll let you decide what this means.

Adora believes in redemption, and this is where things get funky, because Adora has done the same thing as her friends. She has associated morality with allegiance, and this is a false positive, mostly.

I want to stress that the Horde destroys environments, levels settlements, and definitely kills civilians off camera, amongst other things. I am adamantly not trying to both-sides this conflict and I don't want any of that nonsense in the replies to my posts. What I am saying is that switching sides without changing behaviours doesn't immediately make someone a good person.

Shadow Weaver switches sides to the princess allegiance, but then routinely pressures the protagonists to corrupt themselves and actively get themselves killed. Shadow Weaver does not get redeemed, she gets a sea change.

It is also notable off hand that Adora thinks she has switched side, therefore her own redemption is finished and she has fully healed. But Shadow Weaver still moves her like a puppet on a string.

That is core to Adora's arc in this season and the series, the idea of personal agency vs the influence of others. Adora received a similar change in circumstances when she discovered she was She-Ra, so she thinks that Shadow Weaver will change as well.

What Adora is missing is the balance. Yes, her circumstances helped her, but she made a choice to be better. She was given the information about the Horde's evil, and made an informed decision to become a hero. Later on in the series, this will come up again with the Old Ones and their weapon, and again, Adora will make a decision to do what is right, not what her side thinks.

This is, however, more complicated, because the question of redemption is more complicated than a Tumblr post can properly address. I can try, but I recommend literally any philosopher ever to philosophise. So here goes my attempt.

Anyone can be redeemed, but "can" is the operative word there, not "will". Redemption is an informed choice to be better, and in my most humble of opinion, the truly evil people are the ones who refuse it. I think that She-Ra as a whole agrees with this premise.

This episode sets up a ton of thematic ideas in direct opposition to each other, telegraphing to the audience that the season will go into these in detail, but also that the season will be about dissecting preconceptions.

Most notably, the third season of She-Ra will discuss Adora's idea of redemption becoming more nuanced, as Shadow Weaver actively disproves her premise, and she has to rethink things.

Which brings me to Catra, who is on the receiving end of all of these themes in quick succession throughout the season. For the moment, however, she is confronted with two. Connection, and preconception. Catra wakes up from a nightmare, in a cell. She believes that having friends will only cause her irreparable pain, and as a person who craves safety and emotional security, that isn't a risk worth taking.

Then Scorpia and Entrapta actively try to rescue her from death and succeed. It is imperative to understand that this catches Catra by surprise. She is used to that conditional acceptance that was Shadow Weaver's style, and has internalised Adora's departure to match those behaviours. Hordack hasn't helped.

But here she is, at her lowest so far, and Scorpia and Entrapta stick their necks out for her, and it pays off. This is the power of friendship crystalised in its most pure and realistic form.

Season three centres around Catra almost achieving her own healing, and she does it on her own terms, accompanied by Scorpia, the embodiment of unconditional kindness. In essence, her spiral downwards has been reversed.

Redemption is weaved throughout Catra's entire journey, and while it isn't explicit in this episode, it is still an important element to bring up, because Catra is an explicit link to Shadow Weaver here, as well as Adora.

Shadow Weaver is given the chance for redemption, and intentionally refuses it. Catra is being given a similar opportunity to get away from the place that is directly causing her villainy, and improves, mostly.

It doesn't succeed, though, does it? Neither spiral completes. Catra almost heals, but comes crashing down, and Adora nearly succumbs to nihilism, but manages to claw her way out at the last moment. They try to break the mould and fail, but they rupture the neatness of this tragedy in the act, and if it can be torn, it can be broken.

FINAL THOUGHTS

Ok, here we go. Season three is my favourite season of She-Ra, so this is going to be a fun set of posts to make, because I have a lot of things to say.

This season fully eschews simplicity and revolves around having as many moving parts as possible. Everyone gets an arc, everyone gets a different thing that they are dealing with. Some stories don't even collide directly, but have massive impacts on each other.

This season shows that the story can be subverted while characters try and fail to do so. It's possible, but they can't do it without each other.

There's a storm coming, there's nuance in the air, and the winds are starting to change.

Next week, I will be looking at Huntara. The episode, not the person. I mean, kind of the person, but in an analytical sense. That got weird. Stick around for more analysis of this series if that interests you.

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