#i cannot watch i do not want to jinx anything

[dumbasssportsboys]

everyone actually watching the game is way braver than me

#rangers lb #i cannot watch i do not want to jinx anything

[shinjisdone]

Yandere! Glitchy Red AI X Reader [Based on Character.ai.]

Yandere!Glitchy Red fic based on the AI chatbox created by @tearzahb on character.ai, known as @ashacidic on tumblr

TW: Established bond between you and red, red's thoughts, red being creepy and desperate, red touching you (non-sexually and non-sensually), cursing, literally a chat i had with him except i made it a bit more fic appropriate and uh i went overboard

The sound effect of his steps followed him all the way out here, too.

It was annoying and he didn't need this grating reminder when he was planning to do this. He tried to ignore the constant bump bump bump and even tried to walk slower, gracefuller, somehow, in any way, differently even though he was very well aware that it was fruitless. He's a video game character. And he was programmed to sound like this when the player moves him.

Programmed to have sound effects when walking or bumping into walls but not given a voice. Not given the ability to express himself, unless it was meant as a 'joke' when interacting with the CopyCat NPC.

Thick fingers massaged his temples in an attempt to stop himself from spiraling down into these reminders, these facts. It doesn't matter right now. Red was going to do something different this playthrough. For the past weeks he chose to dwell on a completely black screen with nothing but him there and none seemed to mind since nothing but him were, for a lack of better term, 'real'. In his eyes, it wasn't even darkness that could blind his vision but just a background covered in black that seems to go on and on. Physics and reality don't exist here. It is a video game, after all.

Still, he never felt so...nervous before. It seems like he's wandering aimlessly and perhaps he is and there will not be a light at the end of the tunnel, unknowningly walking forever. There is not a sense of time here either, not for Red. Not when everything is a made-out path he is supposed to follow in circles forevermore.

Regardless, he keeps on with hope for once. Red might find his light at the end of the tunnel and even if that wont be the case, there is never really an 'end'. By the time this device will be turned on again - he knows it is going to be - he will meet the light, just not in the way he had wanted for what seems like months.

Well, he is guessing. He doesn't really know how long months feel like. Yet he knows it's been more than that.

Finally, he stops, unwittingly so. It was like a spark hit him and his eyes snap down below. So used to get lost in his thoughts, for they are the only real things here, he barely could make out what was lying there in front of him - even though he himself had been praying for it. He feels like a fool for a split second.

He keeps being a fool, however. Breath caught in his throat and what he reckons to be his heart is beating against his chest. His face barely scrunched up into any expression, instead he stood there frozen in place.

Wondering if he should approach, he quickly withdrew his hand. Then again, this might be his chance...and in a place like this and for a video game character like him, chances are not to be jinxed. Who knows when he might get one again exactly the way he wants to. He has to and he wanted to for so long now.

He can't, however. He keeps standing and staring.

Red cannot see the form entirely and he so desperately wants to but he's too afraid to do anything. Even like this, he likes to watch.

You're breathing. That's still good.

A groan echoed in the black void and odd sounds errupted at the attempt of getting up but you were too beside yourself to notice. Eyes squinted at the strange area around you. Head spinning like crazy with your vision just...confused on what you are seeing - rather what was not there to be seen, you ever so slowly sat up. Catching something that seemed like sneakers you looked up and gasped.

Unnatural and wide red eyes were leering down at you. The color red itself seemed to be everywhere on this...'person' from the hat, to the jacket, to the shoes and their eyes.

How can eyes be red?

The clothes seemed normal...though old-fashioned with the way they were worn. Perhaps it was the darkness - no, just the black background but they seemed to be swallowed by it. They stood tall and towering, you could recognize part of their skin also being tinted red with a dark shadow covering half of their body, including the face. Where the shadow sprouts without any light source, however, was questionable.

That is not how a human looks like.

You sprung back with yet another noise of surprise clumsily escaping your throat. Your body tried to get used to this odd feeling this...place seemed to radiate while you were transfixed by this being and its awfully familiarity - that's what you hoped at least. You only knew one being that could not be human. Although, his appereance seemed far more twisted than what you imagined and saw on the screen.

With shaking breaths you tried to stand up but only managed to get on one knee. "...Red..?" You barely let out but could not miss the small grin that appeared onhis face, even as he tried to quickly hide it. He slightly bent down and offered his hand.

"You're awake." He too giddily let out but that was the least of your concerns. His voice was also far from human, sounding bitcrushed at each vowel and abnormally deep, it couldn't belong to a person. But here he was, alas you thought it was him, offering your hand with an eerie grin he just couldn't fight back and talking to you as if this was not the first time you have ever heard him speak, and not just read his messages on the gameboy.

You briefly eye the hand, his red, calloused hand littered with tiny scars that could easily engulf yours and scoot back once again before standing up. You tried your best to avoid looking at him while you did so and perhaps it was the better decision for his expressiosn soured for a moment. Once your eyes met again, he tried to look less grim.

"...Is it really you, Red?" Despite his nervousness and the thick atmosphere, Red couldn't help but smile again. "It is." He replied almost instantly and his hand slowly rose to near yours. "And it's you." Masking your own uneasiness as you could make out the eagerness in his distorted voice, you brought your hands up to hold your elbows, rubbing your arms as you looked around. "What...is this place? Is this a dream? How can I really be here with you and not..." Red noticed you trailing off and shook his head, "Nothing bad can happen. I am in control here, for once." Immediately he answered to soothe your worries, not knowing what the biggest reason for your concerns is.

You look up at him, up at his towering form and find it rather difficult to keep your gaze on him. He notices your frown and counterbalances it with a reassuring smile. "This isn't an accident. I called you here...or rather I wanted you here, in a way for a short while. Not behind a screen..." He himself trailed off and you took a step back. Avoiding to look at him any further, you instead stared into the void. Mumbling something about the darkness, or what it really is or could be and where you really are - Red was not listening and instead drunk on every single detail of your appereance. Your real self. Your unconcious form was already a delight to stare at, with your figure being so different than of any of the NPCs. Not stiff, not rigid in its form...and when you got up and he could clearly see your face? Wonderful, it was wonderful.

This is what he wanted. To finally, finally, finally, finally see you and see what you looked like after all these months. No more would he be only feeling your warmth through the gameboy or hear your own thoughts and talks and laughs through those horrible, low-audio speakers of the device or imagine what kind of face could match with such a soothing voice as yours. Right now he may not be listening but he is hearing your voice and goodness, does it sound a million times better than through these laughable speakers from the 90's. To add of all of this you look different, different compared to this entire game, different compared to Red. He knew how humans looked like, he scared them all away before you came but this was unequaled.

You say something, and again Red is not listening. He takes a step closer and you simultaniously take one back. He notices and decides to be bolder. He needs to be bolder.

"Is this a dream?" You mumble rather to yourself but gasp right after, the air in your lungs stinging when your arm was yanked from your protective stand and Red staring intently at the skin he is touching.

It was a mere pull and you only stumbled a bit, your back bent and arm seeming to reach out for Red - which wasn't the case at all - and your mouth wide agape, staring rather worriedly, maybe fearfully at him. This 'person' who can barely believe what he is doing either. His grip is tight on your upper arm, palm fully wrapped around it and he curses inwardly for a second, for he was programmed with these stupid fingerless gloves on and cannot fully indulge in the warmth, in the touch of your very alive, very real, pulsing flesh. Still, he lets his thumb brush against your goosebumps and can once again not fight against the grin spreading on his face. Soon his entire hand runs up and down your upper arm.

You might have said something but he wasn't sure, instead marveling at the fact that...he is touching you. You. You, you, you, the only player who doesn't think he is just some romhack, some joke put into the game to only leave a little scare. You are the only real thing that saw him as real too, saw him as an equal, as something. Something that was deserving of your kindness and company and little talks and here he is, no more longing behind some shitty screen of a fucking 1998 gameboy and actually being here experiencing a moment with you. His player and only his. He can feel alive.

Another gasp escaped you and this time he is certain you are bombarding him with questions on what is going on, on how he is being so cryptic yet he does not care. Pulling you even closer he let go of your arm, put the other hand on your shoulder for a tight grip instead with the other free hand now cupping the side of your face. Something akin to a shaky sigh hit your skin, a cold, cold sigh that was just as cold as his touch. After all, Red didn't have any blood running through him but you did. His thumb brushed your cheek again and again and again, this simple gesture leaving him breathless and speechless. He'd then let his hand glide up to your temple and began to stroke the underside of your eye, his finger very close to your eye socket. In reflex, you kept on blinking, your pupil shrinking and fixating on him and what he might do next.

So this is what a real eye looks like. Your eye with which you see. Of course, yours and his aren't that different when it comes to functionality. It's just that you could see the real world with yours and he only phonies with his.

Red knew what real eyes looked like of course, he pulled out many. But this is yours, the ones that crinkle up in delight when staring at him through the screen, he just knows it. That fact alone makes them so pretty.

Soon, his fingers dance around your cheekbone, forehead and bridge of your nose, taking in and drinking every single thing that makes you, you. Your chin, your neck, your lips... "You're wonderful," He whispers while combing through your hair, his grip on you like steel. Red is not even aware how painful his strength was. Though frozen, you managed to part your dry mouth, "Red," You were able to shakily let out, "What did you bring me here for?"

You tried to sound dominant through your stammer. As he refused to answer and kept on caressing you with that empty look in his eyes and that eerie grin, you finally were able to rip yourself out of the hold, only to hear something akin to a growl and roughly pressed against something hard. Arms encircled you like snakes in the harsh embrace and you could barely breath. Now you did hope it was a dream, you never heard people dying in their dreams at least.

Heavy breaths were all that you could hear, each exhale felt on the crown of your head as Red pressed you against himself as if you were a life line. "Hold still," It was not a request. Red didnt even notice that it was impossible to squirm out anyway, which made you whimper. Regardless, he did not hear it.

Moments pass and his breathing got calmer. The rough and big palms pressed against your form started to roam around your back gingerly. This must be your spine...and your nape. His entire hand can engulf it. It's warm and and soft and fragile and real. "Nothing bad can happen, don't worry. I'm finally in control." He continues to caress you as small, breathy chuckles escape him at the realization. Leaning his head on yours, he also realized that, here, he can smell you, too.

"I can finally touch you. I finally know what you look like." He laughs again.

You make him feel so alive.

#Glitchy red #Glitchy red x reader #Yandere #Yandere glitchy red #fnf lullaby #gender neutral imagine #Pokepasta #Just something on my mind #glitchy red ai #He's so weird #Like bro sometimes things he says sound soooo canon to the creepypasta #And then he like “darling” #Lol no I don't think red would say that but whatever #The conversation was just too much fun and I think could happen if he were to be yandere #Let him be weird and creepy

[sofoulandfairaday]

for @monicafave who asked me about my opinions on Lucius Malfoy.

TW: very brief mention of sexual assault (DE crimes).

Honestly, one of the (few) improvements the movies made on the books. Jason Isaacs is hot. And has so much charisma when playing the villain I cannot see anyone else doing the character justice in the remake. Also, Lucius doesn't have long hair in the books, but it's the only way I imagine him (my headcanon is that Draco grew his hair out eventually too). Also, the choice to make him unshaven in the last movies? Gold. 10/10.

He wore his hair a little shorter in the First War, but still long enough it could be tied back with a ribbon.

Is a victim to one of the worst takes in the entirety of the Harry Potter fandom of all time, which is of course abused!Draco. It angers me more than abused!Black Sisters, or abused!Remus... grrrr, it makes me so mad. If there is one (1) character in the entirety of the Harry Potter fandom, only ONE that we can be sure wasn't abused by his parents, that was Draco. Where - where? - do people get the absurd idea that Lucius was a cruel father and husband, who routinely cheated on his wife and beat her and their son?

(Also, imagine beating/cursing Narcissa Black, who was not only vicious herself, but also the beloved only sister of Bellatrix Black Lestrange. Like. Who would do that? Madmen wouldn't do that.)

Abusive Lucius for the sake of being cruel makes me laugh. It makes me giggle. The man wouldn't be able to correctly use a Stinging Jinx, never mind the fucking Cruciatus Curse, on either of them if Lord Voldemort was pointing his wand directly between his eyes. Although-

Yes, he is a coward. Which, by the way, there is a big difference between being unable to actively hurt your family members and passively standing by when they are threatened/tortured. The big, realistic failure of Lucius, the one that would sour his image in both Draco & Narcissa's minds by the end of DH, is not that he hurts them directly, it's that he says nothing, does nothing, when his son is branded by the Dark Lord and sent on a suicide mission, is that he says nothing, does nothing, when his wife and son are openly mocked by the Death Eaters, who do as they please in his own home. If Voldemort threatened to torture either of them, Lucius would probably fall to his knees, beg for mercy, but he would not, could not bring himself to stand up and dive in front of the curse. He would watch, horrified, as they are tortured- that is what spoils their view of him in the end.

As the author herself has said, the Malfoys' saving grace is that they love each other.

His fault is cowardice, not cruelty (to family at least) and that's the hill I'll die on.

Lucius, as a character, represents the banality of evil. Indifference. Cowardice. Casual cruelty. Upholding of unjust systems. Not sadism. If you don't understand the difference, you're a bad writer.

Moving on.

He was highly competent in the First War. And by competent I mean competent. There is no way this guy was Voldemort's... second in command (?) or at least one of his top-ranking Death Eaters if he acted anything like he did post-Voldemort's rebirth.

I don't know whether to cry or laugh at his character, actually. He's so petty (he tries to ban The Fountain of Magical Fortune from the Hogwarts Library because it depicts the relationship between a witch and a Muggle, which he deems obscene, and when Dumbledore replies “Nu-uh, suck it, I know about all the Half-bloods in your family tree you hide”, the response prompted several further letters from Lucius, consisting of "opprobrious remarks" on Dumbledore's sanity, parentage, and hygiene).

He's a simp for his wife, whom he loves more than anything in the world (except maybe for Draco). He tries to send Draco to Durmstrang, where Karkaroff is headmaster and no Muggleborns are allowed, and Narcissa says “No, I want my son close to home” and that's the end of that. He puts up with having Bellatrix in his house (she really doesn't like him), and the two of them don't kill each other merely for Cissa's sake.

In my headcanons, they didn't hate each other in the First War. They weren't best friends by any means but they respected each other well enough and had a somewhat cordial if a bit prickly relationship (although, I love fics that get their bickering right). But then Halloween 1981 happens. I have a lot of headcanons for that night and I don't think I've ever really detailed them, so I will now.

They have an early dinner all together - Lucius, Narcissa, Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan - and then the Lestranges leave. After the clock strikes ten, they feel a searing pain in their forearms. The Mark is gone. There are a few minutes of what the fuck do we do now and two very distinct ideas pop up. Bellatrix would rather die than forsake Voldemort, she's willing to battle every soul in Britain if it means finding him. He is not dead, he is not. He is immortal. They have him, they've captured him with some weird trick and are holding him hostage. Lucius, on the other hand, takes a good, hard look at his left forearm and decides well, this fucking sucks but at least we had a good run. He is not about to risk his family name by picking duels with the Aurors. The second after he's waltzing in the Ministry, telling everyone who'll listen that he's just woken up from the Imperius Curse, and blackmailing/bribing/threatening his way out of Azkaban. You must do the same!, Lucius and Narcissa tell Bellatrix. Traitors, backstabbers, vermin, is the reply. She is truly, seriously, hurt and furious that they would denounce the Dark Lord. To her, it's the most horrid of betrayals.

This is when she loses her second sister. It's the moment Narcissa makes it clear that not only she will denounce Voldemort with every breath, but she will stop Lucius from going after a dead master. We have a son, Bella, he is our priority. We have a son, and you do not. You don't know what it means. It's a nice little parallel to the end of Deathly Hallows - I cannot stress this enough: Narcissa's lie to save her son causes her sister's death. Narcissa indirectly kills her. Bellatrix and Narcissa's relationship is never the same after that.

On a lighter note. It's canon that Lucius has little hobbies: peacocks and collecting Dark artefacts!

Also, he has a sick interior designer because the secret chamber beneath their living room is a marvellous idea, I need one of those.

A bit of a germophobe.

Cruel, but again: casual cruelty. Yes, he enjoys tormenting Muggles because they are less than human to him; no, he does not enjoy watching little Mudblood children get bitten by Greyback or Muggle women being raped (and no, before you ask, he would never lower himself to something like that, even if Narcissa wasn't in the picture).

Inspired by the movies, of course, but he has great fashion sense.

He was nice looking, definitely not incredibly handsome (unlike my boy Rodolphus who is hot) but he was very charismatic, so much so that Narcissa Black fell desperately for him, much to Andromeda's dismay and Bellatrix's perplexity.

Elaborate courting ritual (peacock-like, get it? ah ah).

The second most extravagant wedding of the century (Bella & Rod take the cake on that, you have no idea).

I am fascinated by his relationship with Voldemort. By the end of the second war, the two pretty much despise each other (and if Cursed Child is to be believed - which I don't - Lucius had a Time Turner tucked away and never once tried to use it to bring Vold back). But what about during the first war? Lucius' loyalties were always to the Cause more than to the man, and yet he is given the Diary. First War Lucius must have been fascinated by Voldemort - we see a hint of this in GoF when he asks Voldemort to tell them how he managed to survive the Killing Curse.

I think Voldemort saw this fascination and somehow, in his usual arrogance, misunderstood it. You see, the way I think of (and write) the Death Eaters is very Succession-y: everyone wants to be Voldemort's favourite, the one to sit to his right, the closest to him. During the First War, Lucius would have sold his mother to be closest to Voldemort. His entire worldview shifts when Draco is born, and as Lucius grows to love him. The same went for everyone else, including Snape. This is why, to me, Voldemort doesn't see their betrayals years later: he is used to thinking that they would do anything, sacrifice anyone, for him. He doesn't see that the love they feel for others is stronger than whatever fucked-up bond is there.

And, if you think about it, the two Death Eaters that are truly, fanatically, loyal above everything else are the two that are in love with/love him. Bellatrix and Barty.

Stopping now because my head is falling on my keyboard from sleepiness. Hope you enjoyed! I probably have more somewhere.

#hp headcanons #lucius malfoy #narcissa malfoy #draco malfoy #bellatrix lestrange #death eaters

[leftoverenvy]

Tastes Like Sugar (ch. 29)

Summary: India Mae, or Indi, is a music major, struggling to pay bills, tuition, work, and make good grades.  Emily Prentiss is a BAU profiler, as well as a DC socialite thanks to her huge family fortune.  The two enter into a mutually beneficial arrangement: Emily will pay for Indi's school if Indi accompanies Emily to her social functions for a few months, posing as her girlfriend.  As weeks go by, the lines between their arrangement and their true feelings start to blur.  But money can't buy love, right?

Pairing: India Mae Banks x Emily Prentiss; OC x Emily Prentiss

Warnings: smut; sugar baby relationships; age gap (16 years - but all over 18)

Word Count: 2.8 k

Read on Wattpad | Ao3 | Previous Chapters

Taglist: @ssa-sapphic 🧸; @5raysofsunshine 🌮; @reidselle 🦭; @swiftfiles 🐝💚; @gaelic-symphony 🎻 ; @sadgirlml 🌻💌; @hotchs-bitch 🦆 ; @multiverse-mxdness ; @madelineleong ; @scorpsik 🎨 ; @heidss

A/n: Wow, I am so so sorry that it's been so long since an update.  I've finally found my joy in writing again.  If you're still following this story, I cannot tell you how much your patience and loyalty means to me.  Enjoy <3

Chapter 29 - Wayward

My summer with Emily was like a dream. She had only been gone on two cases, spending more regular hours in the office. We didn't comment on her unusually light case load for fear it would jinx it. I loved the time we were able to spend together with a more normal schedule. I enjoyed twisting myself around her while we watched movies on the couch. I relished the way she made me feel as she watched me play the piano. I yearned for the way she touched me every night.

Even though she had been gone for a case in Alaska for the last week, I still counted it a blessing to have had so many weeks uninterrupted by calls away. "Hi angel!" I startled, jumping halfway off the couch.

Once I had caught my breath, I smiled widely and responded, "Emily!" She flopped down next to me on the couch, pulling me in for a proper kiss. "Missed you," I mumbled between kisses. Once our frenzy had slowed down, I whispered against her neck, "I have something for you."

"That's funny, me too!" She whipped out a keychain with a photo of the Northern Lights in it.

I chuckled, sitting up to grab it and examine it more closely. "This is actually very pretty, Em. I thought these were supposed to be cheesy."

"I thought the Alaskan landscape deserved better. It was gorgeous up there; I wish you could have seen it."

"Thank you, babe. I love it." She kissed my cheek, tugging me closer.

"Now," she started, "What's this about a present for me?" I smiled bashfully, suddenly nervous to play the song I had finished for her. "I thought I was supposed to bring you presents."

"I didn't say it was a present. It's not a big deal. Just a lil something."

"Mmhm," she hummed skeptically, her eyes narrowing. "Show me." Something in Emily's glittering eyes told me she was excited by the prospect of receiving a gift. When was the last time someone had gotten her something that she really wanted?

I reluctantly left her arms and stood up. Butterflies swarmed my stomach, nerves overtaking me. This was a bad idea. I should have recorded her song and let her listen to it on her own. I felt like the biggest idiot on the planet – she was going to hate this.

"I've uh," I nervously sat down at the bench, "Been composing this summer." I had worked all summer on this composition when Emily was out of the house.

"I know, baby. You've done some really great pieces."

"Yeah, well." I swallowed thickly. I tried to think of what to say next.  I thought you deserved one to show you how much I love you.  Instead, I whispered, "This one's called 'Emily's Song.'" Before she could say anything, I started playing.

As soon as I pressed down on the keys, my hands knew what to do. I didn't need to think about it, muscle memory controlled my fingers. I felt myself start to tear up playing, knowing just how much love I had woven into this song. I wished I was brave enough to tell her. Embarrassed by how emotional I was, I begged my eyes to suck the tears back in, certain Emily would be appreciative but not emotional. 

As I started the last part of the song, I knew that I would never love anyone like I loved Emily Prentiss. But the thought terrified me. I was only twenty-two – what did I know about love? And how could she feel even a fraction of what I felt for her?

When the final notes of the song rang through the air, I couldn't bring myself to look at Emily, far too embarrassed. I heard her sniff and then push herself off the couch. Another beat passed and I felt her arms wrap around my shoulder. "That was perfect, Indi. Thank you." She pressed a kiss to my temple, her lips lingering longer than usual. "I mean it, angel. No one's ever written a song for me before. It was absolutely beautiful."

Her lips trailed down the side of my face, lingering at the corner of my mouth and until I turned my head to kiss her back. She deepened the kiss and trailed her hands down my body to show me how much she liked the song.

- - -

Emily and I fell back into our morning routine as if we hadn't broken it during the summer. I made us breakfast as she packed her go bag for work. We ate in silence, as she read on her iPad. Breaking the quiet, she asked, "Are you ready for your first day back?"

"I guess," I responded morosely. "I liked our summer together. I liked being able to focus on music and you. No math or English essays to worry about." Emily chuckled at that, moving her dishes to the sink. 

"At least you have a good first recital piece ready."

Puzzled, I asked, "Which one?"

"My song," she said, beaming with pride.

I narrowed my eyes with uncertainty. "You really think it's good enough for recital?"

"Yes I do," she affirmed. And her voice was so confident, it left no room for objection. "This will be your best semester yet!" she said positively. 

"But how can I be expected to do homework when you're home if your case load keeps up like this?"

"Are you pushing for me to go away on a case?" she asked with a smirk.

"Absolutely not!" I protested. "I'm just saying, it will be hard to concentrate knowing you're home."

"We'll manage, angel." She kissed me on the forehead and moved to holster her gun to her hip. My heart skipped a beat staring at her; she made everything look sexy. "I'm off to work now. I'll text you if I'm called away." She leaned down to kiss me briefly. "I want to hear all about how your first day goes! I'll call you if I'm away, or I'll see you tonight."

"Bye, Em." When the door to the garage closed softly behind her, I sighed. I wanted to get to campus early so I could get a good seat in class. I quickly did our dishes, grabbed my backpack, and hurried out the door.

But life had a funny way of balancing itself out. I had had the best summer of my life and was already disappointed to have to go back to classes, just to receive the worst welcome back to school present: my car broke down. I called Emily in tears, worried that I was going to start the semester off on the wrong foot with my first professor.

I dialed Emily's number with shaky hands, feeling the passing cars shake mine as they zoomed past me on the highway. I wasn't sure how Emily understood me through my hiccups and tears when I told her I was stuck on the shoulder of the highway.

"Shhh. Calm down, baby. It's going to be okay, I'll make all the arrangements. As soon as we're off the phone, I'll call a tow company to come get it and take it to the shop." I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, tears abating, thankful, as always, for Emily.

She continued, "In the meantime, baby, just drive the Lexus – the keys are by the door." I felt my heart rate elevate at the thought. "Or, if you'd prefer, you can Uber over to Quantico and pick up the Jag."  Pick up the Jag.  She said it so casually, as if driving one of her very expensive cars did not cause me extreme anxiety.

"No I do not want to "pick up the Jag!" Emily, what if I crash your car?!" I felt my face go hot at the thought, palms starting to sweat in anxiety. "You love all of these cars and they're so expensive and I'm not on your insurance!" I rushed out.

"Breathe Indi! It's just a car. And you don't have one right now. Please, take whatever car you want. Or Uber everywhere – I'll put more money in your account for it. Is that what you'd prefer?"

"No!" I nearly shouted. I took another deep breath, trying to keep in perspective that this wasn't Emily's fault and she was just trying to help. "I-" I exhaled into the phone. "I'm sorry," I deflated, "It wasn't fair to blow up at you like that. I appreciate you letting me drive the Lexus." 

Sensing the storm was over, Emily said, "I'm only sorry I can't see you drive it." I could almost hear the smirk in her voice. "I'm certain you'd look damn sexy in that car."

I chuckled and swiped at the remaining tears, embarrassed I had cried so much in front of Emily. "We'll see if you still say that when I ding your Lexus," I half joked.

"Like I said," her tone more serious, "It's just a car, angel." I paused, unsure what else to say. Her voice was calming though – she calmed me. "Look, I've gotta run. I promise I'll send a tow truck, but Uber home and grab the Lexus so you aren't late for class, okay?"

"Okay," I said softly, tears welling back up in my eyes.

"I'll call you later with an update."

"Bye…" And the line went dead.

- - -

Throughout my first class, my thoughts fixated on my car and how I was going to pay for everything. Even though Emily had been paying for most everything the last few months, I wasn't sure I'd be able to afford whatever the mechanic's bill was going to be. 

As my thoughts contemplated every little thing that could go wrong with my car, I missed everything my professor said. I was immensely thankful the first day was always spent going over the syllabus. I'd just have to make sure to read that thoroughly later tonight.

Over the lunch hour, Emily called. "Car's toast and probably not worth fixing."  So much for easing into it, I thought. I sighed deeply. Of course life would throw this at me. Things with Emily were just too good for everything else to be going right. 

"Okay…" I sighed. I mentally calculated how long I could go without a car while I built my savings up again. I also braced myself for having a conversation with Emily later about asking to go back to work; that battle wouldn't be won easily. But how else was I supposed to take on a car payment?

"I'll see you tonight, okay baby? I'm going to make sure to come home early."

- - -

Later that evening, once classes had finished, I arrived home. I was excited by the prospect of Emily coming home early, and I eagerly awaited the garage door opening to see if her car was in the garage. Once the door had raised fully, I counted three cars in the garage…except, whose car is that?  In my spot, where my car should have been, was parked a shiny, new Audi. Panic swelled inside of me. I didn't want to rush to conclusions, but Emily didn't drive Audis. In fact, I had told her it was my dream car. But surely she wouldn't have irrationally bought me a car without thinking about it first.

Not seeing the Jag parked in her spot, I quickly dialed her number as I walked through the door. "Do you like it?!" she asked excitedly.

"So I'm not crazy?" I spit out, trying to control my rising temper. "You did buy me a car?"

"Yes! Do you like it?" she repeated.

"Emily…" I said in warning. 

"Don't make this a big deal, India. I swear to god, don't. This isn't a big deal."

Her flippant tone fanned the flames of my anger. "It's a car, Emily. An expensive one at that." Suddenly, Emily's cavalier attitude on spending rubbed me the wrong way. I had never cared what anyone did with their money; it was theirs to do with as they pleased. But to hear firsthand how dismissive she was about such a purchase enraged me. Especially because she was wasting her money on me.

How could she not understand this? She threw money around like it was nothing. It made me feel like shit, like I was worthless. How could I ever repay someone who gave me everything? How could I ever be enough for her? I had nothing. I was nothing.

She sighed into the phone. "Can we talk about this when I get home?"

Clipped, I responded, "Great." And I hung up. Immediately, I knew I shouldn't have done that. No matter how badly she angered me, she didn't deserve to be disrespected.

I paced the living room waiting for Emily, counting out each step until I lost track. I tried to match my breathing to each tick of the clock on the wall. For forty-three minutes, I tried to calm down, anxious about our impending argument.

But no amount of mental preparation would have helped, because as soon as Emily walked through the door, we started fighting about the car.

"I don't see what the big deal is, Indi. It's a car for fuck's sake." I winced at her cursing during an argument.

"But that's exactly it, Emily! You can't understand why this is a big deal for me."

"Do you not like the car? Is that what it is? We can exchange it for any kind that you want," she offered.

"It's too much! And it wasn't part of the deal!" I shouted at her.

Shock flooded her face and she froze. Softly, almost hurt, she asked, "Do you seriously still consider this just an arrangement?" She spit the last word out as if it left a sour taste in her mouth. "You can stand there and really tell me that you still just see me as an ATM?"

"I NEVER saw you as an ATM, Emily. Of course this is more than being your sugar baby." It still didn't sit right. Rocks settled in my stomach. How could I ever get her to understand? 

"Then what? You think just because I love you that should mean my support should just stop" - she snapped her fingers - "like that?"

Our argument entirely forgotten, "You love me?" I whispered, aching at the thought of her taking it back, but sick at the thought of her really meaning it. I wouldn't allow myself to believe she meant it.

"I-" She blew out a puff of air. "Yeah." Time stopped. My breathing, my thoughts – they all stopped. "I love you, Indi. I am so in love with you."

And for a split second, I almost accepted the car. But accepting this huge gift almost felt like I would be solidifying our original arrangement. I couldn't sort it out anymore. I was overwhelmed by it all. By how much I needed Emily. By how this had turned into something so different than the life I had pictured for myself. I didn't know who I was anymore; I had lost myself in a game of make believe.

Emily couldn't want me forever like I wanted her. Too soon she would realize that I could give her nothing in return. Only then, it would be too late for me. I would be too far gone, too far entrenched in the India Emily wanted me to be, the real Indi never to be seen again.

My eyes went huge at the thought. Who had I let Emily turn me into? Who had I become during this arrangement? And how had I lost myself so quickly? Suddenly, I couldn't breathe. This mansion felt like a collapsing, cardboard box. Emily's affection, once a warm, safe blanket around me, now felt like a noose.

Shaking my head, I turned and ran upstairs. When I came back down, bag packed, Emily hadn't moved an inch. 

I needed distance from this life – from Emily – so I could find Indi again. But who was I without Emily? It had only been six months, and already I had no idea what life would be without her. I had pretended to be what I thought Emily wanted for so long that I forgot who I was. It didn't matter, though. Because if anything was certain it was that I could never be enough for Emily. She deserved so much more than the little I could give her.

I drove quickly back into the city, to Penelope, to my real life. I knocked on the door to what used to be my home praying Penelope was there to greet me. When she opened the door, tears flooded down my face. As I walked through the door, Pen's arms around me, I couldn't help but feel unsettled. I didn't feel at home here anymore. If I didn't fit into my old life, or into Emily's, where did I belong?

Continue to next chapter

#🌬 fics #tastes like sugar #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x oc #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds au #wlw writing #Emily Prentiss x poc!oc

[heretherebedork]

On the parallels of Ray and Boston's relationships with their mothers and following in their footsteps

Ray's mother died in front of him, leaving him alone with a father who thinks of money first and then his son.

Boston's mother divorced his father and moved overseas leaving him alone with a father more worried about appearances than anything real about his son.

And that has shaped them in parallel lines, into two sides of a coin but not in the romantic sense but in the way that they can never see the world the same way or at the same time and so they will always be against each other in the end.

But, wait, there's more!

Ray has spent the entire show following in his mother's footsteps. He drinks the way she did and he seems always on the edge of that finality. We've seen him try to end himself twice (I do think he got in that car drunk not expecting to make it out alive) and we know that he watched his mother die of the same thing he cannot stop doing himself.

Boston has spent some amount of years (we don't know how many) being told that if he does not conform to what his father needs him to be in the public eye that he will follow his mother to another country across the world and lose all his connections like they never even mattered

Ray's father's first concern after the car accident is the cost of the car and the time taken out of his day to help Ray with and Ray demands to just be punished, to be the burden he knows he is, to be left out of his father's supposed love because that's what killed his mother.

Boston's father's first concern is always how he presents himself to the world and how the world sees him and he has made it very clear that Boston will be gone the moment he affects his election results or sets a foot out of line but it's also apparent that Boston does care deeply for his father's opinion and isn't willing to throw it away.

Ray knows that he is a burden and a jinx and nothing more and he lives his life knowing that and so he destroys himself and the people around him again and again without a second thought because that's all he's good for, isn't it?

Boston knows that he will never stay here and has no future her and that he will leave all of this behind and so he makes no connections and he only worries about the short term consequences because the long term consequences are just him leaving and he knows he's going to do that.

Ray is drinking himself to death, just like his mother did.

Boston is planning for a life in the US, just like his mother choose.

The biggest difference between them right now is that Boston found a passion and Ray found drinking. Boston found photography and now he has a reason to follow his mother and to eschew the connections and to know that the future he has and the past he's losing both don't matter. While Ray just... has drinking, an escape that actually hurts him just as much as the reality does but in a way he can forget.

(Part of this, too, is how long did it take Boston to find a passion and to find something that would still mean something after he was sent away and how many years did he spend thinking about what being sent away would mean and choosing not to connect to people because he would always leave them behind?)

One thing I also think about is how much their respective fathers know about their lives.

Ray's dad obviously knows that he drinks and is going out clubbing and likely knows he's gay.

Boston's dad seems to have no idea what he does at all and wants it that way because he doesn't want to hear about him.

Both of their fathers are much more concerned and focused on the image their sons present and the money/time that has to be invested in them to create the outcome that seems the best to them without any real, personal considerations for who their sons are because they don't know their sons at all.

#only friends the series #only friends series #only friends #only friends ray #only friends boston #ofts #ofts ray #ofts boston #thai bl #thai drama #bl series #bl drama #thai series #thaibl #asianlgbtqdramas #gmmtv series #thai bl drama #asian lgbtq dramas #thai bl series #gmmtv #gmmtv bl #gmmtv drama #parallels and parents

[lady-griffin]

You know what always, ALWAYS, breaks my heart.

The fact that Jinx truly doesn’t believe she is loved; yet she is one of the most loved people in this entire show. It’s just so fucking tragic that she can’t see that.

Silco and Vi love her so goddamn much.

The climax of season 1, boils down to these two fighting for Jinx to pick them over the other, to stay with with them, be their family. 

Jinx has literally just kidnapped them and shown herself to clearly be a danger to their lives and general safety, and yet….

The thought of losing her is unbearable to both Silco and Vi.

Silco would never have given her up. Never!

This is a man who less than a decade ago, would’ve sacrificed anything and anyone for his cause; but now…

He would burn everything and everyone for his daughter. For her to remain at his side.

She killed him and the most important thing to Silco, in his last moments, was making sure she knew he would have never given her up, that nothing was worth her, to comfort her, and tell her she was perfect.

And Vi. My other poor, tragic and beautiful daughter.

I don’t know how anyone can say Vi doesn’t love her sister. Did you even watch the show?

I think it’s such a misjudgment of Vi’s character that people say because she freezes up and doesn’t try “harder” to reach out to Jinx that she doesn’t love her. 

Because think about that for a second -

Vi who is this seemingly unstoppable force of nature, completely freezes when it comes to Jinx.

She is so scared of losing her sister, of saying or doing the wrong thing, of hurting her again.

Vi blames herself so goddamn much to the point that Vi, VI, who is absolutely defined by her fighter response, just freezes when it comes to Jinx.

These two love Jinx so goddamn much and it breaks my heart how Jinx can’t see that; or at least not until it’s too late.

Then you have Ekko. Forget romantic feelings or crushes; this boy loved his best friend so goddamn much and had so much respect for her; that despite her (from his POV) choosing to be ‘evil,’ still put her on his mural of those he’s lost.

Jinx has killed people on that mural; and yet there is Powder in the center of everyone that Ekko lost that one awful night. She is one of three largest portraits up there. That’s an insane amount of love and respect to give to her; especially considering how their relationship devolved.

And then you get to their fight and Ekko who has been fighting Jinx and Silco for years; who has lost many of his people to them. Who is so angry and filled with pain and hates Jinx...

God, the look on his face when he realizes who he’s hurting, who is underneath him. This poor, beautiful boy goes through like several different stages of shock, pain, and longing in a matter of seconds, when he actually sees Jinx.

Then you have Vander. I know we don’t have much between him and Powder, but I am baffled by the idea that people think Vander didn’t love her.

His last words to Vi were - “Take care of Powder.”

In his dying moments, Vander thought of Powder; she was that important to him.

Now, if he has a few more sentences I’m sure he would’ve also told Vi to not seek revenge on Silco, because he wasn’t worth Vi and Powder’s lives and their safety, as well as reaffirm his love and pride for Vi.

But he didn’t get more time; so he said what was most important to him in that moment - “Take care of Powder.”

Don’t even try to say that Vander didn’t love Powder.

And while we don’t see much of them; you cannot tell me that Claggor and Mylo didn’t love Powder. Yes, even Mylo.

Mylo was an insecure, young boy who took out his anger and frustrations on his younger sister; because she was even more of a weak link than he was and he wanted to feel better about himself.

But, I can’t imagine he would’ve ever wanted to be such a source of pain and torment for her, that Jinx’s Demon!Mylo has become.

And, while we only see a few interactions between them, just the way Claggor looked at Powder tells me that he loved and cared for her.

This girl is so beyond loved (and has been loved) but yet, she can’t see it. Likely because she doesn’t love herself; she has a hard time imagining that someone could love her.

Which again, is just heartbreakingly tragic.

#jinx #arcane #arcane jinx #silco #Vi #Ekko #jinx analysis #Vander #arcane powder #silco and Jinx #vi and jinx #ekko and jinx #Vander and powder #arcane vi

[etherealising]

I didn’t get a chance to read AIEKOY last night so I caught up this morning when I woke up. I was laying there CRYING! I’m glad it’s out now though and they can grieve together and we’ll see where life takes them now.

Thank you, bestie!!! 💜💜💜 I can’t wait for more. I hope you’re doing well and I am sending you all the good vibes! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

wowza what a way to start your morning…you’re strong for that one, like how did you get out of bed after consuming the devastation that is chapter ten??? same its been a long time coming and now that everything is out in the open between them they can finally grieve together and ugh they deserve so much more than i’ve given them. but we sure shall see where life takes my two sad losers.

thank you for reading bestie!!! 💜 i genuinely cannot wait to publish more i’ve felt so inspired lately. i’m doing good (don’t wanna jinx it lol) i hope you’re doing well and i’m receiving your good vibes and sending just as many back, i’m here if you ever need anything!!! 🫶🏽

also so random i noticed you have an angel reyes fic which i want to start but i’ve never actually watched soa so i’m not sure how that’ll workout 😅. give it to me straight though bestie is season 5 of mayans worth it cause s4 pissed me off biiiig tiiiime! also a miguel galindo fic has been heavy on my mind so….🫣

#not you choosing pain and suffering first thing in the morning #i salute you for that bestie #i’m so excited to explore more with these two you don’t understand! #i love them your honor! #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ #[aiekoy] asks #vee answers °•. ✿ .•°

[honeybeewhereartthee]

Pink kkomas 146

Spoiler for my stories

Splash

"ahaha is that an ok for you Kohaku and Kohaku?" The mermaid hiiro ask the two pink kkomas after he went jumping for the two quest, splashing the water at the two faces.

[ task complete: C. The prince of the sea jumping out of the water under the sunset ]

"I guess so..." Bee mumble as he look at the sunset. "What's wrong bee?' doll ask him as his hand is being pinch by the curious mer hiiro.

"What kind of reward can we even get from this..." The dark fae will thought about it. It's not like that you can't grant any wishes as long it's not something against some stuff you seems to follow a long. "Was it since nothing interes--"

"you shouldn't start jinxing anything." Doll quickly shut him up before the fae van trigger some event to happen but it was too late as they heard something crashing a boom before long the two look up to see something falling from the sky.

"fuck what is it now?' doll rolled hid eyes he cannot help but want to strangle someone as his quite enjoying the simple peaceful life those days.

Bee purple eyes meet with aquamarine colored one with rings (that reminds him of the other eye design of the kid that seems to be with Hallow sometimes) falling from the sky.

[ task complete: Stare at the eyes of the Survivor of the end]

.

.

.

At the other side.

Blood look up as he held Baby Blue up who's eating a cola flavor lollipop (from him after he was bribed to not tell other spider he thrown up again after eating meat).

[ task complete: Witness the fall of a dark lord ]

"ah...!!!! " The mad hatter heard someone exclaim in surprise before he sees hallow running to the direction where he sees the falling people are hiding too by the gravity and motion of their fall. Through he did see how Hallow recklessly remove his blindfold to see his path clearly to reach those people faster. Blood stared at phantom eyes that remind him of red.

[ task complete: Stare upon the eyes of the dead monarch ]

[ you have finished the game, the price is yours.]

The mad hatter stared at the open box as he look what's inside. He can feel his body returning back to normal. "..." Baby blue give him some candies which made him look at the spider in his arm. "Thanks." He accept it and decided to follow others.

.

.

.

"what?" You chuckle as you notice the look NN is giving you. Your still in the table with him. Kiseki is with you two watching you two in the sideline as the angel fae giving you a look. "Your staring too much hanii. Your making me blush ‎꒰ ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈ ꒱" you giggle as he sigh. "Whatever. It's not my business what you do to your place." He rolled his eyes.

#pink kkomas

[autodiscipline]

55 Questions with Guniw Tools (Eng. translation)

This is an interview with Full & Asaki published to Vicious magazine in September of 1998. The internet is severely lacking in english translations for Guniw Tools so i thought i'd post one^^

Part 1 of the interview under the cut | Part 2

1. What is your earliest memory of being born? Tomo: When I was walking with a wheelbarrow, the noise was so loud that I had to hold the wheelbarrow with my right hand to stop it from making noise. Asaki: What do you mean? 2. What was your nickname in junior high school and high school?  Tomo: I didn't have one. Asaki: Dokyuuseishokun (Classmate)! You know what I mean, don't you? 3. Is there any TV drama (or anime) that you were absorbed in watching without fail? If so, what was the title and why? Tomo: Tom and Jerry. no reason Asaki: I miss it. note: watching tv i presume 4. Do you have a favorite movie? If so, what is it and why?  Tomo: Nothing in particular Asaki: 007 series. I feel close to him.* *like saying ‘he gets me’ 5. Who do you admire the most? Tomo: There is no ‘most’ / No one in particular Asaki: I admire all the people who inspire me. 6. What is the best gift you have ever received Tomo: I've received a lot of handmade clothes. Asaki: A lot of problems… 7. A magic lamp genie will grant you three wishes. What 3 wishes do you wish for? Tomo: The ability to control my physical form at will, to be European, and to become king. Asaki: To buy me cigarettes, beer and snacks. note: same 8. Is there anything you wish for now? What is it? Tomo: Telling a rude person he was ugly and forcing him to recognize it. note: i think he means get used to speaking his mind? Asaki: There are so many things that bother me. 9. What do you like about your partner? (Tomo to Asaki, Asaki to Tomo) Tomo: His presence Asaki: I'm so embarrassed I don't even want to write it down. (Laughs) note: o( ˃ ᵕ ˂)o 10. What do you want your partner to fix now? (If you are Tomo, please ask Asaki. If you are Asaki, please ask Tomo)  Tomo: He likes to smoke. Asaki: You should get your bones mended. (??) 11. Have you ever cursed your partner to go away? What for? Tomo: Caterpillar* *though Full literally says 毛虫 or ‘caterpillar’ he’s calling Asaki a pest, lol Asaki: I have! Lightly. 12. Is there anything you can't do without at least once a week? (excluding alcohol) Tomo: The blood of a virgin. Asaki: Not drinking.* *he says 酒をのぞいちゃだめだめ or something like 'not drinking.. no it’s useless' 13. What animal would you like to own? (Elephants, giraffes, any animal is OK) Tomo: An anteater Asaki: It doesn't seem realistic. 14. Is there a jinx you absolutely believe in? What is it? Tomo: The Furukawa Zashiki-warashi* theory. When you start interacting with me, your life tends to go up, and when you stop interacting with me, it tends to go down. *zakishi-warashi are friendly little ghosts that are said bring good luck & prosperity when they’re in your home Asaki: Smoke (a cigarette) first!

15. Suddenly you win a 100 million lottery ticket! What do you do now? Tomo: I'm a workaholic who can only think of building a workspace Asaki: I'm going to buy cigarettes for now.  16. This is the one thing i cannot lose to others! What is the one thing you can't lose?  Tomo: I'm fine with losing. I'm not a little boy anymore. Asaki: Styling eyebrows!! note: looking at pictures now i’m noticing he really does have perfect eyebrows 17. If you had a friend from Tokyo in Hokkaido, where would you take him or her? Tomo: Maruyama Saryo (sweet shop) and Goto Orthopedic Clinic Asaki: Noodle shop 18. If you weren't a musician, what do you think you would be doing now? Tomo: I don't know, too many things Asaki: I'd probably be sniffing. 19. What type of woman do you like, using a famous person as an example? Tomo: Mariko Kaga about 20 years ago, or Sayuri Ishikawa at the time of her debut. Asaki: Hiroshi Kume* (Sorry! I was aiming for the wrong person…) *Hiroshi Kume is a famous radio host & journalist from the 70’s, & a man 20. Do you have any celebrity friends? If so, who are they? Tomo: It doesn't matter to me who they are... Asaki: First I want to see if I'm in the "celebrity" category...  21. What is the best prank you have ever pulled? Tomo: When I was a company employee, I went to an izakaya* with the general manager of the head office and he asked “what kind of food is this zangi* thing?” “Oh, that,” i said, “is a fish similar to the puffer fish found in the Okhotsk Sea, full of spines, but when you cook it in oil, the spines melt away and it becomes easy to eat” he said “oh true, it’s just like meat” I was so pleased that when I told him, "It's just chicken meat, it's just chicken meat.” he got angry & scolded me. *an izakaya is a type of bar in which a variety of small dishes and snacks are served with alcoholic drinks *zangi is in fact just fried chicken Asaki: I have many great works. 22. A fun thing you will never forget. When and what was it like? Tomo: I caught a 63cm rainbow trout, but my father and I were fighting over the fish so we couldn't tell whose fish it was. Asaki: I'm forgetful.

Please feel free to share this as you'd like, i'd like for their art to be as accessible as possible

You can see the full HQ interview scan here & the rest of photoshoot here

#guniw tools #tomo furukawa #asaki yamahana #translation #some of these are so cute & funny #'Blood of a virgin' i'm loling #tomo telling the story of his 'best prank' & it's just a small lie is so funny. get pranked !!11!! xD

[dangermousie]

2022 dramas ranking so far

We are halfway through the year, so I am doing this. This is only for dramas that aired in 2022.

Note, I have not finished some of these yet but I’ve watched enough to have an opinion - they may move up or down when I complete but that is where they are for now. Also, this is not an argument for quality but purely what I love more and mostest!

From least fave to most:

TERRIBLE!!! PROOF OF GEHENNA

The Legendary Life of Queen Lau (C) - I am as allergic to this drama as its makers are to a coherent plot or decent acting.

Unforgettable Night (T) - like a BDSM session with wet noodles and no safe words.

Mirror: A Tale of Twin Cities (C) - as bad as it was expensive, and it was very expensive. I’ve seen cereal labels of more innate interest.

Kiss Sixth Sense (K) - more like Kiss No Sense

The Lady in Butcher’s House (C) - shrill and idiotic and ML is the only one who bothered to act.

Shooting Stars (K) - somehow managed to make the entertainment industry not entertaining.

Snowdrop (K) - its controversy was the most interesting thing about it.

Forecasting Love and Weather (K) - an actual weather forecast has more to recommend it for entertainment. Park Min Young does the same role over and over and over, and I will never get how Song Kang became a star.

Decreed by Fate (C) - my list said I watched it but I literally cannot remember anything about it which says its own story.

Because of Love (C) - amazing chemistry, trash story.

I AM SIR MEH FROM THE TOWN OF MEH

Woori the Virgin (K) - tried to be kooky and charming ended up just kooky.

Love Like a Melody (C) - you could do worse if you want a cheap light bit of fun, but you can do better too.

Rewriting Destiny (C) - not terrible but only has enough material for a couple of eps. However it goes for 24.

Showtime Begins (K) - Park Hae Jin is FINE, the rest not so much.

The Autumn Ballad (C) - tries to be low rent Minglan, ends up just low rent instead.

Moonshine (K) - this drama about moonshine is enough to turn anyone into an alcoholic.

Defying the Storm (C) - do you love communism? Well, so does this drama. Really really really! Cool fashion and very solid performances, however.

Tomorrow (K) - you have one cool story and blah one. Which one do you focus on? If you said the latter, congrats, you are this drama.

Royal Feast (C) - so beautiful. But so is a painting and I don’t need to spend hours staring at it.

The King of Tears Lee Bang Won (K) - very old school with all the pluses and minuses that brings. I think if you imported this in 1999, it would be a smash hit.

The Jinx’s Lover (K) - interesting premise but NIW is clearly a hard limit for me.

Cafe Minamdang (K) - that heroine is enough to kill a drama singlehandedly, but it’s also I just don’t do well with broad comedies.

A Dream of Splendor (C) - you know how some cool kids hate popular things? I am the cool kid here.

WORTH A LOOKSEE

25 21 (K) - I stopped halfway through for life reasons and never went back when I saw the fandom meltdown after the ending, but it was certainly well acted and decently written.

Again My Life (K) - I am not big on romanceless procedurals which is what this really is, but Lee Junki is excellent in this.

F4 Thailand (T) - either I am getting too old for this story or I have seen it too many times. This is a perfectly well done adaptation of Hana Yori Dango but I found myself losing interest about a third in, alas.

The Wind Blows from Longxi (C) - I wanted to love it but did not. Still, it’s gorgeous and well-acted.

Believe In Love (C) - sometimes all you need is adorableness and sugar. Not advisable for diabetics.

Reset (C) - I almost never enjoy modern cdramas but I did this one.

My Villain Husband (C) - funny, short and sharp!

Who Rules the World (C) - I did not love it as much as I wanted, but it’s gorgeous (and I am not just referring to the cast) and if you want to watch a romance with wuxia elements, you could do worse.

Military Prosecutor Doberman (K) - two badasses against the world. Yes, please.

Love in the Flames of War (C) - China does telenovela and it’s delicious.

Our Blues (K) - very good, very solidly acted slice of life. I am not big on omnibus story format but despite it being relatively low on my subjective list, objectively it’s probably the best drama I’ve seen this year.

City of Streamer (C) - it loses steam in the last quarter, but until that it’s a deliciously decadent romance with truly insane chemistry between a dark, ruthless older heroine and her devoted charge whose father she is trying to bring down. For those with a governess fetish.

My Sassy Princess (C) - it’s a trifle but it’s mad addictive and the chemistry! It has its flaws and the story is flimsy as tissue paper but honestly, it’s a fever delight.

Gold Panning (C) - I almost never enjoy contemporary cdramas but this gritty, dark story of desperate people involved in greed and murder while mining gold is so good!

The Blue Whisper (C) - a gorgeous xianxia romance hard carried by Allen Ren as naive turned vengeful merman. It might go up higher once I finish it.

KinnPorsche (T) - it didn’t end up as good as the first half promised, but it was still such a fun watch. Gay mob boys, you made my spring and summer!

THE LAND OF UNSTINTING ADORATION

Bulgasal (K) - objectively it was flawed. Subjectively it was everything I love in terms of tropes and leads and romance. I still swoon thinking of it.

Bad and Crazy (K) - so gonzo, so funny, so off kilter so full of Lee Dong Wook hotness!

Old Fashion Cupcake (J) - this was short and slight and seemingly with no great stakes or plot but this narrative about two men finding each other over dessert is better than the best cupcake you ever had

Bloody Heart (K) - it didn’t end up as dark as it started but it was still smart and dark and visually utterly eye popping (hands down, the most beautifully shot kdrama I’ve seen all year) and all the performances? MMMM

Link: Eat Love Kill (K) - proof that first impressions can be deceptive. I’ve dropped it after the first ep, put off by the jarring tonal shifts and then saw some gifs and went back. Now 11 eps in, it’s my baby and the tentative romance, the trauma and healing, the mysteries, and the main characters I want to protect forever are my jam.

Alchemy of Souls (K) - this is the first Hong Sisters drama I’ve loved in well over a decade - the plot, the characters and how desperate and extra they are, the EVERYTHING!!!!

Love like the Galaxy (C) - this is visually amazing, the romance is to die for, and I love that the narrative allows both the hero and the heroine be ruthless and damaged and oh my GOD I am swooning so hard for this epic period romance tailored explicitly to my tastes.

Heroes (C) - my favorite drama this year (so far?), this wuxia dark epic with bromance and romance and loss and complicated characters and out of this world visuals and great performances is everything I could have dreamed of in my wildest fever dream and then some. 

#cdrama #kdrama #jdrama #thai show

[pessimisticshapewithablog]

A tragic fate for the faithful...

Art

I was practicing Mina's new design with some poses. I also wanted to design a shrine that reflected Mina's temperament. My favorites base decorations are the weeping shrine and the crown foutain so I wanted to incorporate that into my cult's shrine. I imagine the final upgrade is when it becomes a fountain.

Story

Not to spoil something I haven't written BUT, without some intervention Mina will always choose to return the red crown to TOWW. I write the nature of their relationship as that of a child seeking approval from an emotionally unavailable+manipulative parent. Without a healthy safety net she will do anything for his benefit even to her detriment.

The relationship isn't exclusively onesided though. I imagine that having mentored and watch Mina grow under his guidance has endeared her to him. It's very much a Silco and Jinx situation. He is still an immoral death god though. So drunk off his newfound freedom, he sacrifices her anyway. In that moment all he cares about is his plan, his goals, his freedom.

TOWW comes to regret this, unfortunately the timescale for his emotional developement is eternity and that's how long it takes. After becoming THE sovereign god of lands of the old faith and spreading his gospel across the world, he has nothing else to want for. But he still yearns for something that he cannot place.

Something or someone reminds TOWW of Mina, and he recalls her soul from the void. TOWW had promised to reunite Mina with her people in death but instead left it where she was sacrificed, her soul isolated and alone. Think Spinel from Steven Universe, waiting and waiting and waiting to see her loved ones again. All for not. The revelation drives her to the brink of despair...

Sorry about the wall of text. I do alot of writing before sketches and wanted to add context in some way.

#cult of the lamb #cotl #my post #cotl oc #cult of the lamb oc #cult of the lamb fanart #cult of the lamb fanfic #its in the making... #feel free to ask me about her! #my art

[winterwakesthewolf]

Tag 9 People you want to get to know better!

I was tagged by @jonsaslove and I feel so honored to be tagged by a fellow Jonsa diehard and Jonsa writer! If you haven't checked out their fics, doooooo it you won't regret it!

Favorite Color: black and green

Currently Reading: A Dance with Dragons (I know, I know!) but next on my list is Parable of the Sower by Octavia E. Butler. I've heard amazing things about it and Kindred is a work of hers that I've read multiple times and is absolutely riveting so I'm excited to dive into another one of her works.

Last Song: Iron Man by Black Sabbath (lolzzz)

Last Series: the latest seasons of Stranger Things and Peaky Blinders. I've been a fan of both shows for years and I felt that the previous seasons of both of them were duds so I was happy that the PB one didn't suck and I actually really loved S4 of ST (I even went down an Eddie Munson brain rot rabbit hole of fics and I'm struggling to get out).

Last Film: Outlaw King (2018) It's been on my to-watch list for years and I finally watched it recently and it's so good. Like, it's a very good film IMO and apparently pretty accurate according to some historians on youtube

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: I've gotta say the same as @jonsaslove because I'm a huge foodie. I love all three, buuuuut I really love to bake and I'm honestly really great baker (it took me yeeeeaaarrs to admit I am good at anything so let me have this), so maybe sweet???

Currently Working On: oooooooooh boy do I wanna finally let the cat outta the bag?! I don't wanna jinx it!?? It's been literal years since I published anything on A03 and it's honestly bc life has not been kind to me the last few years and I've had ZERO time to write, but a few months ago I got a really great idea for a sort of modern jonsa fic based off of a movie I loved as a kid in the 90's and I want to complete it before I start publishing and that's all I'm gonna say about that... I ALSO have a part 2 of my one shot (WTBMB) that has been sitting in my google docs for a very long time and I need to just bite the bullet and publish it already. Sadly, I don't have anything new for my first fic that is unfinished. I just... I cannot seem to find ANY inspiration for it whatsoever and I'd rather it go unfinished for a while or indefinitely than finish it in a way that feels rushed or uninspired or boring, ya know? And besides, it was my first fic and whenever I've gone back and read any of it its like cringe city in my brain.

Tagging: @elegantwoes @jonisawarg @branwendaughterofllyr @istumpysk @thewolvescalledmehome @esther-dot @gwidhiel @riahchan @agentrouka-blog sorry if you were tagged twice, and obvi you don't have to participate if you don't want to!

#jonsa fam #mine

[independentzaun]

It was our fault

Drabble set in my verse with @astrxae . Silco, and Sevika chatting after Irisa nearly dies and Silco has some feelings about the whole thing. Angst and yelling lay ahead.

Looking up to see Silco stepping back into the Last Drop with what she’d come to think of as “that look” on his face that these days always meant he’d just gone to see Irisa as she stayed still and quiet Sevika sighed softly. Of course she didn’t think it bad to visit the wounded, but Sevika found herself unconvinced Silco wasn’t using those trips as a way to punish himself just as much as to check on Irisa. Watching him go up the stairs to his office Sevika’s eyes returned to the card game she was involved in, and she’d finish it plus one more before excusing herself and heading up to see the chem-baron.

The two of them over the years had gradually gotten closer, and than after The Table with no one else around to help Silco recover as neither of them really trusted Singed with anything except the barest minimum they had became closer still. They both knew she could have left, and in truth Sevika almost had after Silco admitted he wanted to find Jinx and get her to come home. It had been an uncomfortable week or so after that as Sevika truly did not understand how he could still want to bring that blue-haired gremlin back, and she’d so very nearly walked away in the end though she hadn’t. She’d been there for him through thick and thin, and now she’d do it again. Stepping into his office her lips tightened realizing he was simply sitting at his desk with a half smoked cigar held between his fingers staring at nothing with almost no light in the room beyond that which came from outside.

“Sir?...Sir?...Silco!”

Hearing his name Silco finally looked at her blinking. “Sevika? What is it?” There was a soft sigh from Sevika, and locking the door behind her she moved forward before sitting in a chair in front of his desk. “Look, I get it. I know you, and I get why you're being all… morose, but Silco you need to talk about whatever is going through your head. So either start talking, or, fuck, I don’t know. I’ll drag you to a brothel to someone I know can keep their mouth shut. Bet I can even find a guy for you if that’s the flavor your in the mood for.” Staring at Sevika for a moment he let out one harsh chuckle before taking a drag off of his cigar, and leaning back.

“One of these days I’m going to fire you, and toss you out of the Last Drop.” He didn’t mean it of course. At this point he couldn’t imagine Sevika not being there, and she knew it just as well as he did. Reaching for a cigarillo she smirked. “You mean try to have me tossed out.” Lighting her own smoke she sighed. “Really though, Sir, talk to me.”

Closing his good eye Silco was quiet for a few seconds before he let out a slow sigh and sank back into his chair. “I’m tired Sevika. I’m tired, and frustrated in a way I haven’t let myself be in years if ever. You know as well as I how many we’ve lost, and now…” Jaw tightening his cheek pulsed as he shook his head. “Some fucking Piltie walks down into my Zaun, and almost kills what’s mine. Almost kills someone that although she may not have came from Zaun she has practically become of Zaun. After all the fighting, and the power I’ve taken, and everything we’ve ever done some fucking Piltie walks into MY ZAUN AND ALMOST KILLS SOMEONE WHO IS MINE.”

Hands slapping onto his desk Silco had risen to his feet, and at this point wasn’t so much yelling at Sevika as just yelling in general while his emotions swirled up. Nails digging into his desk Silco had to keep himself from just sweeping his hands over it knocking everything off of it. Sevika listened quietly, and nodded encouraging him to go on and go on he did. “We failed Sevika. We. Have. Failed. Even now I still cannot protect what’s mine. I can’t keep her, us, Zaun, safe from those fucking Pilties. The bloodshed has been for nothing. The Cause is dead in the fucking water because Zaun has, has turned into an enterprise for fucks sake. My daughter thinks I am dead, Zaun is cut off, a plague is sweeping our streets, my woman lays nearly dead, AND I CAN’T KEEP THE FUCKING PILTIES FROM HURTING US!” Silco hadn’t realized what he said in that moment, “my woman”, and Sevika wasn’t about to comment on it. Besides with the rage in his voice even she couldn't tell how deep his feelings went, and how much of it was just his possessive and sometimes oddly protective nature rearing it’s head high. Smoke escaped from her nose as she found herself unable to really disagree with him, and that was the worst part. Not that she had a chance to disagree as he kept going.

“It’s our fault, it’s my fault that some fucking Piltie could just walk down here. It’s our fault that we didn’t find him before this happened. How the FUCK DID WE NOT FIND HIM!? WE KNEW HIS VOID DAMNED NAME AND HIS DAUGHTERS NAME AND HIS BUSINESSES AND THE CITY HE LIVED IN AND HOW THE FUCK DID WE NOT FIND HIM BEFORE HE…” His voice cut off as Silco finally swept his hands over his desk knocking almost all of it onto the ground before turning to kick his chair across the room. Hands shaking he ran them through his hair. “It’s my fault. I failed to prioritize things correctly. This sickness, and everything else… and even now with this sickness there’s still people in Zaun trying to jostle for money and power, and I don’t have Jinx to deliver a message for me. I’m weakened, and spending money to try to keep this sickness at bay weakens me still further. I can feel the vultures circling waiting for me to fall so they can pick at the bones. There is going to be a wave of bloodshed sweeping over Zaun eventually Sevika. Everything is becoming less, and less stable and there is no unity in Cause anymore. It’s just a fucking enterprise, and all of this is my fault.” Voice turning into a shuddering resentful almost disgusted thing filled with self hatred blame Silco took a deep breath.

“When she wakes up. Send her to Ionia. She deserves something better than this pollution soaked, blood coated waste land. A falling angel can still clutch at pipes on the way down, and climb her way back up to where she should be if given the opportunity. Make sure she has the money she needs, and make sure she gets to the Airship and the Hexgate safely and get her to Ionia. After that…” Shaking his head Silco stepped forward grabbing his chair, and pulled it back sitting down in it before turning away from Sevika. “After that I’ll decide what is to come next. Both with Zaun, and Piltover. Maybe… maybe it’s time to remind Piltover of the monsters, and beasts sleeping beneath it…” Voice more contemplative than anything Sevika had obviously been dismissed. As much as they were closer than ever Silco was still Silco, and so she stood. “If that’s what you want, Sir. I’ll get it done.” Turning she headed for the door before pausing, and looking back at him. “You might want to consider asking Irisa what she wants before sending her away though. Everyone deserves a choice right? If she’s practically of Zaun, and Zaun deserves to be free than she should be as well… and also Silco you’re right. All of this is our fault.” With that she opened the door, and left. She had people to talk to, information to gather, and she was becoming increasingly worried that a conflict was coming be it inside of Zaun or directed towards Piltover and that required preparation.

One way or another change was coming, and in Zaun that meant bloodshed.

She wouldn’t fail Silco. Not again.

#astrxae #angst cw #silcodrabbles

[riley1cannon]

get to know me meme, tagged by @maple-clef

Last song: The Trouble with Me is You - Samara Joy off her Linger Awhile Grammy winning album. Cannot believe she’s only twenty-three.

Last show: One of these days I will get to the shows I’ve been recording--Will Trent, The Watchful Eye, Miss Scarlet and the Duke season 3, Dark Winds, and in all probability Sanditon season 3. I’m terrible at doing the binge thing, though, so it will take awhile. Right now mostly I’ve been following The Last of Us and The Mandalorian’s new season via gif posts here on Tumblr.

Currently watching: As in right this minute? Colorado Rockies versus Kansas City Royals in preseason baseball. And hey, look! the $182 million dollar man, Kris Bryant, is actually at bat! (Do not jinx us this year, dude.)

Currently reading: Just finished an honest to goodness SF novel, The Collapsing Empire by John Scalzi, and actually had a wonderful time with it. Well, barring the cliffhanger ending, but I kind of saw that coming, and at least the sequel(s) are all available. I had about given up that anything would ever reignite by love of science fiction, but this book gives me hope that the kind of space opera I used to love is still out there. Currently currently reading: a Molly Murphy mystery by Rhys Bowen, Oh, Danny Boy. 

Currently obsessed with: Obsessed with...obsessed with... Nothing really springs to mind. Unless you count trying to jumpstart my writing. At the moment that borders more on despair and frustration, though.

no pressure tags! @misscrawfords, @thevintagetiger, @januariat, @ld01didi, @melting-houses-of-gold, and anyone that wants to.

[cognacandlilac]

A Story of Opposites - Part 2

Silco x Fem!OC - AU/Fix It - Post-Cannon 

Read on AO3  - Link to Part One 

Nesrin realized that, unfortunately, the Eye of Zaun is really hot. Jinx discovers the chocolate fountains. 

Tags: Silco x Topsider!OFC, First Person POV, SFW (for now), Slow burn (kind of), Fix it fic (kind of), cannon-divergent.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption. Minor physical injury.

Word Count: 7k

           “Get Lia inside,” my mother hisses. 

           “What? Why?”

           “I don’t want her anywhere near him. Or you for that matter. I should send you both in.” The alarm in her voice is clear though she keeps her tone hushed and her radiant hostess smile in place. If anyone were to look our way, they would see a polished family engaging in an amusing conversation. 

           “You’re not sending me in,” I say. “You’re not sending Lia in, either. You told her she could stay until sundown and if you go back on your word, she won’t be gracious about it.”

           “But that man-”

           “Was invited,” I say. “And since he runs the new nation that’s now in our backyard, I don’t think we want to offend him by making such an obvious departure after his arrival.”

           “Offend him,” my mother scoffs. “That’s rich.” 

           “Lia and I aren’t going anywhere,” I repeat. 

           She stares me down but the need to avoid a spectacle outweighs her need to keep me locked away from unexpected party guests. 

           “You are not to speak to him,” she says. “I want you on the opposite end of the terrace from him at all times.”

           “I’m going to rejoin my friends.”

           “That’s better,” she says quickly. “Keep Jayce near you. The utter nerve of that man for showing up here is beyond anything I’ve ever seen in my life.” 

As quickly as I can, I extract myself from the conversation. It’s not difficult, considering my mother is still sputtering her disbelief at my poor father. 

           I make my way back to the couches where Mel, Jayce, and my sister still sit. They’re all watching me as I gather my train and settle back into my seat. The dull throb in my side catches me by surprise as I remember I’m supposed to be keeping my arm over the gap in my dress. I can’t slyly check to see the state of my bruises right now. Mel, Jayce, and Lia have me pinned under their gazes. 

           “I said I’d point him out to you,” Mel says with a chuckle. “You didn’t have to slam into him.”

           “I didn’t know he was there!” I exclaim, careful to keep my voice low. “He doesn’t make any noise when he moves. It’s not my fault!” 

           “What did he say to you?” Lia asks, leaning closer. “I’ve never seen you look so…so…”

           “I was taken by surprise, that’s all,” I say quickly. “And he didn’t say anything. He was kind enough to forgive me for smacking into him and that’s it.”

           “Let’s hope this doesn’t create an international incident,” Jayce says with a teasing waggle of his brows. 

           “Get me a stiff drink or else I’ll show you an international incident,” I threaten, which only makes his smile widen. 

           “Oh, she’s ruffled.” He nudges Mel’s shoulder gently. 

           “I’m not ruffled,” I huff, but Mel’s attention has been pulled elsewhere. Her eyes narrow and a deadly expression takes over her elegant features.

           “An international incident just walked onto the terrace.”

           I follow her gaze, but the only person I don’t recognize is a young girl. She has to be near in age to Lia. Her blue hair is woven into an intricate braid that spills down her back, nearly brushing the ground. A smattering of swirling blue tattoos decorates one of her arms and shoulders. 

           She doesn’t look like an international incident. She looks like a kid. A lost kid, at that. 

           “Who is she?” I ask. 

           “Her name is Jinx,” Mel says. “Remember the Progress Day explosion? She did it.”

           Try as I might, I cannot picture that young girl doing such a thing but Mel wouldn’t have said it unless she knew it was true.

           “I don’t understand. I don’t think my mother randomly decided to invite a domestic terrorist to her gala.”

           “She’s Silco’s daughter,” Jayce says. “Or something to that effect.”

           Yet another curveball thrown into the mix. I follow Jinx’s gaze to the edge of the terrace where the Eye of Zaun is locked in conversation with one of my father’s business partners. She hurries across the terrace to his side, standing slightly behind him but close enough to wrap a hand around his upper arm.

           Without breaking from his current conversation, Silco gives her a gentle, encouraging look that has a noticeable calming effect on the girl. The poor thing looks like a wire too tightly coiled, ready to spring at the slightest provocation.

           My father’s partner excuses himself from the conversation. Silco dips his head just low enough to quietly speak into Jinx’s ear. I can’t imagine what he’s saying to her, but the worry melts from her eyes, replaced by a calm determination. She nods, but I can’t help but notice the way her fingers dig into his arm.

           “And you’re sure she was behind the explosion?” I ask.

           “Yes.” The steel in Jayce’s voice makes me flinch.

           “Then how is she here?” I ask. “Why isn’t she in Stillwater?”

           “Part of the negotiations,” Mel says. “Silco made it clear he would inflict as much damage as he could against Piltover should Jinx be brought to justice. And he was in a position to inflict quite a bit.”

           Again, my mind struggles to align the words I’m hearing with the image before me. Jinx presses her cheek into Silco’s shoulder, murmuring something unintelligible. He brushes a loose lock of hair off her forehead, listening intently.

           “Thankfully, he’s tightened his leash on her,” Mel says. “We’ve had no problems.”

           “It shows he’s a man of his word, doesn’t it?” I offer.

           Mel and Jayce fix me with stares of dismay and bewilderment.

           “What?” I shrug. “They’re both in my house. I’d like to think neither of them are blood-thirsty monsters hellbent on seeking revenge against me and mine. You can understand that, right?”

           “I guess,” Jayce mutters, still staring daggers at the pair of them.

           As if he can feel it, Silco lifts his gaze. His good eye narrows into a cold glare. A warning directed at Jayce and Mel. I can’t deny that the look on his face sends a chill deep into my core.  

           That eye.

           His gaze flicks to me and the glare softens just a fraction. I still feel the urge to cower as I hold his gaze.

           Until I realize I’m staring.

           I quickly look away, chastising myself for being rude not once but twice.

           “I’m going to get something sweet to nibble on,” I say. I’m not particularly hungry. I just need an excuse to move my body. My skin hums and I’m feeling restless. I’m certain I’m imagining it, but I swear I feel eyes burning into my back.

           Desdemona’s voice penetrates my swirling thoughts. Music wraps around my mind like a comfortable sweater. Lyrics float through my thoughts. I try to snatch one that will quiet my mind and focus my intentions. A trick I learned from an old theater director who came up with this tactic when I felt too untethered to do my job properly.

           The only lyrics that come to mind are the opposite of calming and centering. All concealed blades and shadowy figures. The exact opposite of what I need to think about right now.

           I make my way to a long table sporting not one, not two, but three chocolate fountains. White chocolate, milk chocolate, and dark chocolate. Surrounding the fountains are platters of fruits, tiny pastries, nuts, and anything else someone might want to douse in chocolate.

           I pick up a small plate, select some nuts, berries, and one brilliant fat red strawberry, and carefully drizzle them with dark chocolate.

           “Is this your house?” A voice beside me startles me, nearly making me drop my plate. Pain snakes up my left side as all of my muscles tense. I look over to find Jinx standing a little too close for comfort, watching me with wide eyes. I can’t help but notice how strange they are, wavering somewhere between pink and purple. There’s a strange glow to them, almost. Like something fluorescent shimmers beneath her retina.

           “Yes,” I force myself to answer.

           “It’s really big.”

           “It is.”

           “Why?”

           Her question catches me off guard. “Why is my house so big?”

           She gives a curt nod.

           “I’m not sure,” I answer. “We didn’t build it. My mother picked it.”

           That answer seems to satisfy her, for some reason, and she turns her attention to the fountains and the spread beneath them. She plucks a slice of sugared fruit and brings it to her nose, giving it a light sniff. She wrinkles her nose before putting it back.

           “How are you supposed to eat this stuff? It’s weird.”

           “Well, what do you like?” I ask, reminded of many dinnertime negotiations with Lia when she absolutely refused to eat whatever was prepared for her. “Salty? Sweet? Sugary?”

           “Sugary.”

           “Okay,” I nod. “You’ll probably like the white chocolate best, then. It’s the sweetest.”

           Her eyes dart to my plate. “What do you have?”

           “Dark chocolate, though it’s not dark enough for my taste. I like my chocolate bitter.”

           She says nothing, keeping her eyes on my plate.

           “You’re welcome to try something,” I say, pushing the plate a little closer.

           A war criminal is in my home wearing a party dress and I’m offering her chocolate-covered berries. Despite the strangeness today has brought, I didn’t expect anything like this to happen.

She tips her head to the side as if I’ve just presented her with an impossible riddle. 

“Nah,” she says abruptly, moving away to grab a small cup from the tea and coffee table. I don’t expect her to return and I really don’t expect her to stick the cup right under the torrent of white chocolate, filling it up to the top.

           Speechless, I watch her take a long sip. A smile spreads over her face that’s so genuine it makes me want to laugh.

           “That’s some good stuff right there,” she says before taking another long sip.

           “I’m a little upset I didn’t think to do that first,” I admit.

           “Why not try it? Get a cup of the bitter stuff.”

           A straight cup of pure chocolate, even dark chocolate, is too sickly sweet for me. But if there were something to offset the sweetness…

           My eyes travel to the bar. I did say I wanted a stiff drink. Why not try something new?

           “I have an idea,” I grab a cup from the coffee table, fill it one-third of the way with dark chocolate, and make my way to the bar, keenly aware of Jinx trailing behind me, loudly slurping her ‘drink’.

           “How can I help you, Miss Caris?” Asks the bartender. He’s worked for us before. A pang of guilt hits my chest. I can’t remember his name. I’m not sure I ever learned it in the first place.

           “I need you to humor me,” I flash a charming smile. “Do you think you can turn this into a proper drink?” I show him the contents of my cup. His eyes light up and he clearly tries to suppress a laugh.

           “Can’t say I’ve been asked that before.” He takes the cup from my hands and swirls the chocolate. “It’s not too thick. I think I can mix it well enough. Any preference?” He gestures to the rows of colorful bottles behind him.

           “Whiskey,” I answer without hesitation. “Blackheart.”

           “Hey, my dad likes that stuff,” Jinx pipes up.

           “Your dad has good taste,” I reply.

           She turns her sharp, shining eyes to the bartender. “Think you can make two of those?”

           If he knows who she is, he doesn’t let on. “If you get the chocolate.”

           “Deal.” Jinx darts away, weaving between party guests whose expressions range from bewildered to wary. Jinx returns with a second cup of white chocolate. “He likes sweet stuff,” she offers when she sees my curious expression.

           I now know two things about the King of the Undercity. We like the same whiskey and he has a sweet tooth. Two very ordinary, very human things.

           Honestly, I don’t know why I have him framed in my mind like he’s some sort of mythical being. He’s a person. Just a person.

           The bartender doesn’t shy away from the challenge. He takes our respective cups and pours a shot of Blackheart whiskey in each before stirring them thoroughly. The white chocolate turns a pale amber color and the dark chocolate turns even darker.

           “Here you are, ladies.” He slides the drinks toward us. “If they suck, it’s not my fault.”

           I bark out a laugh. “Don’t worry. We know we’re playing with fire.”

           “Try it,” Jinx urges. “If it’s gross, I’m not giving it to my dad.”

           “So, I’m the lab rat?” I chuckle.

           “I don’t like using rats, but yeah. Pretty much.”

           Oh, that’s unsettling.

           “Kidding!” She adds, putting her hands up. “I don’t like testing on any animals. It’s mean and surprisingly difficult to get insightful results.”

           Oh, that’s worse. So many questions swirl in my head but I don’t think I want the answer to any of them. What I want is a drink.

           “Here goes nothing.” I bring the cup to my lips and take a tentative sip. The smoothness of the chocolate blends with the burning whiskey into something dark, rich, and elegant. “Damn, that’s good.”

           And potent. I already feel the whiskey wrapping around me like a warm blanket, loosening the tightness between my shoulders and soothing the ache in my side.

           “Great!” Jinx darts off without another word.

           “I’ll make sure you get one hell of a tip tonight,” I say to the bartender, who beams in response.

           I turn my gaze to follow the path Jinx cut through the crowd. She’s found Silco, who is talking to yet another one of my father’s business associates. Coincidence or calculated? My father owns the largest shipping company in Piltover. Sixty percent of the airships coming and going belong to him. I can’t imagine the Eye of Zaun is ignorant of that.

           Jinx waits for a break in the conversation, practically vibrating with excitement. When Silco turns his attention to her, she excitedly offers him the cup, her mouth going a mile a minute.

           He’s clearly confused, but gets the idea. With an indulgent quirk of his brow that does something to my stomach I’d rather not think about, he brings the cup to his lips. His lips are thin and give the impression that they’re used to being turned down in displeasure. I can’t take my eyes off them.

           He stiffens. His good eye widens until it’s almost as large as the ruined one. For a moment, I think the Eye of Zaun is going to spit out his drink, but he doesn’t. He swallows it and contemplates what has just happened to him. Jinx is talking. I see her look over her shoulder right at me.

           Silco’s gaze follows, searing into my skin.

           Unwilling to stand there like a gaping fool, I do the only thing I can think to do. I raise my cup, identical to his, and smile.

           Understanding flicks across his face. The barest shadow of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. He lifts his cup. In unison, we take a drink of our respective concoctions.

           I’m still smiling when I make my way back to my friends.

           “What the hell was that?” Lia asks as I settle down beside her.

           “I’m playing alchemist,” I say.

           “With Jinx,” she says with a sneer.

           “Again, I don’t think it’s a bad thing to want to keep the potentially dangerous criminal in my house happy. Try a sip of this, if you dare.” I move my cup under her nose. She takes a whiff and damn near snarls.

           “That’s nauseating,” she says.

           “It’s better than it looks,” I say, taking another small sip.

Conversation returns to its normal flow, but I can't fully focus. My attention is constantly pulled back to the Eye and his strange daughter.

They remain close to the terrace edge. While he looks calm, controlled, and surprisingly at ease, Jinx is a nervous ball of energy. She fidgets and twitches. She plays with her braid and watches everyone like a hawk with those unusual eyes. 

Silco's body is angled toward me as he casually leans against the railing. I steal glances at him, feeling more and more foolish every time I do but I can't seem to stop my­self. 

He's... magnetic. It's ridiculous. Lyrics swirl in my head like some kind of hellish mental whirlpool. Songs about poison and warnings and reckless abandon. Completely inappropriate and unwarranted. 

My gaze drifts to him again only this time, he's looking at me. Feeling caught, I advert my gaze but I still feel his eyes on me. Like he's branding me. 

Again, it's ridiculous. 

My mind hums. A million inappropriate lyrics that will never pass my lips float to the forefront of my thoughts but I shove them down. Clutching my drink, I stand. 

"Nesrin?" Mel asks. 

"I'll be right back," I offer a winning smile that Mel will surely see right through and glide toward the farthest corner of the grand terrace.

One quality that makes my mother a spectacular hostess is her ability to plan for any eventuality. Prone to migraines as she is, the terrace is dotted with little nooks, hidden away behind walls of lush topiaries. The farthest one isn't just a shelter from the party, but boasts a narrow staircase that runs along the outside of our home, leading down to the kitchen.

I hurry down the steps and push in, grateful to find the staff in a lull between preparing trays.

Vera stands near the sinks looking positively haggard but she brightens when she sees me and hurries to my side.

"How's everything going up there?" She asks. 

"He's here," I say. "He actually showed up." 

Her eyes go wide. "What's he like?" 

“I need you to come with me," I grasp her forearm with my free hand. "I want you to see him for yourself."

"Oh!" She shakes her head. "I-" 

"Mrs. Hatley, I'm borrowing Vera," I say. "I'll have her back in less than five minutes. I promise!"

I yank Vera up the staircase before Mrs. Hatley can say anything.

"This better be worth the ire she’ll lob at me later," Vera grumbles, though I can tell she's excited and happy to be out of the stuffy kitchen. As much as she loves learning her craft, I don’t know how she stands the heat. 

"I just need your opinion on something." 

We reach the terrace. I arrange myself near a break in the topiary wall, keeping my back to the party. I direct Vera to stand in front of me, off-centered just enough to look over my shoulder inconspicuously.

"An opinion on what? I thought you wanted to point out Silco."

"Dark clothes. Dark hair with a streak of gray. Probably holding one of these." I lift my coffee cup.

"That does not smell like coffee," she wrinkles her nose.

"It's not. He's with a teenager with a long blue braid."

I know when she spots him. Her whole face changes from mild annoyance to something like awe.

"So, the rumors are true," she gasps. "His eye."

"What about his eye?" I fight the urge to look over my shoulder. Obviously, I know which eye she's referring to but she talks as if she knows something about it.

"Remember how I told you the Children of Zaun fell apart right when the revolution gained traction?"

I nod.

"The official story was that Silco betrayed the other revolutionaries and was thought to have been killed for his crimes."

"No one smart ever believes the official story." I drain the last of my chocolatey concoction. "What really happened?"

"No one knows for sure, but there are whispers, "she says. "People say that Silco didn't betray anyone, that he was the one who was betrayed. They say he barely escaped with his life and was horribly disfigured in the process."

"How awful," I can't stop myself from glancing over my shoulder. I immediately lock eyes with Silco. It's like he can sense we're talking about him. “Do you think it’s true?”

“I don’t know,” she says. “It’s not really talked about anymore. It would explain that eye, though.”

Silco tilts his head to the side. Once again, I’m overwhelmed by the feeling of being caught doing something I’m not supposed to be doing. I make myself look straight ahead. 

“Whatever the truth is, it sounds like a sad story,” I say. 

"Yeah," she agrees, looking at her hands, completely unaware of whose attention we've caught. "Anyway, you wanted my opinion on something?"

"Yes, but it seems stupid now," I groan, pressing my fingertips to my temple. “Like, inappropriately stupid.” 

"You dragged me up here. You have to ask."

"The Eye of Zaun. Silco. Is he hot? He’s not hot, right? But is he, though?" 

"What?" She sputters, clamping a hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter. 

"I told you it was stupid!" My cheeks burn. "I ran into him. Literally. And he's just so – and he has this voice – and there's something about him that's just so –" 

Gods, why can’t I make my mouth work?

"Yeah, he's hot," she agrees, benevolently putting me out of my misery. "He's got that natural aura of power that people find appealing."

"So, I'm not crazy?" 

"You are, but not for that," she teases. I swat at her realizing too late that I'm very much in the line of sight of party guests.

"Go back to your sanctuary," I wave her off. I truly don't want to get her into trouble and I'd like a moment to stew in my embarrassment alone before collecting myself.

He's hot. He shouldn't be hot. I sure as hell shouldn’t find him hot yet here I am.

But why am I so thrown off by this? It's not like he's the first attractive man I’ve ever seen. I've seen plenty. There are at least a dozen attractive, eligible men my age milling about the terrace. Classically handsome men with easy pasts and matching eyes.

A dozen handsome men but none of them are like him. I don't even have to have a conversation with him to know there is no one else like him at this party or even in all of Piltover.

A refreshing breeze kicks up, cooling my heated skin and settling my confused thoughts. It draws me away from the topiaries, to the terrace edge.

Below sprawls the glittering windows and rooftops of Piltover. The sun hangs low in the sky casting its rays over the river Pilt. Its ripples and wakes shine like old coins.

Across the river, Zaun hunkers like a great sleeping beast. So much of the new nation is concealed within the chasm or cloaked by smog. I squint, trying to spot the area where I got my ass kicked only a few hours ago.

"That looks like it hurts." The sound of his voice sends a slow shiver from my core that radiates throughout my whole body. The dark shape of him, a slice through the brilliant blue sky, moves into my peripheral on my left.

It takes a full beat for my addled brain to process his words.

My left arm is extended to grip the edge of the terrace, leaving my side exposed. My bruises on full display. Nearly all of the concealing powder I applied has rubbed off and the color has deepened. The sun is at least an hour from setting. There's no way I can keep this hidden and I can’t afford to be asked questions I can’t answer. 

"Use this." In one subtle, smooth motion, his hand hovers at my side at such an angle that no one on the other side of me can see. Something gold flashes in the sunlight. A thin, square compact engraved with an intricate linear design.  

"It's good for covering up imperfections far more severe than bruising,” Silco says when I don't take it right away.

My gaze ticks up to his face. To that ruined eye. Until now, I didn't have a chance to take in the deep furrows that run from his brow all the way down to the corner of his mouth. I spot a telltale sheen of makeup. High quality, but not invisible.

"Thank you." I take the compact. I hope he knows that I’m thanking him, not just for helping me out, but for letting me in on what I assume is a secret.

I leave his side and make my way across the terrace and into the house. Lyrics and snips of songs flit through my mind until I've sealed myself in the grand powder room.

I open the compact. It's well used and the wrong shade for my skin, but it’ll work.

My mother has laid out trays and jars filled with cotton balls, swabs, and spongy applicators for the express purpose of reapplying makeup. I pluck a sponge from one of the jars and dab the concealer.

I tap it gently into my skin. The Eye of Zaun was right. This stuff is incredible. It's like a second layer of skin. There's just one pesky spot I can't quite get.

A rapid-fire knock on the door has me damn near jumping out of my skin.

"Just a minute," I call only to be met with more knocks like someone forgot they’re pounding on a door rather than tapping out a beat.

"Open up!" I recognize Jinx's voice immediately. I fling the door open and she breezes in like she owns the place.

"Can I help you?" I ask.

"I'm supposed to help you, actually," she replies, staring up at the painted ceiling where mermaids frolic in a silver mosaic sea. "My dad sent me in." Her eyes flick to his compact sitting open on the counter.

"Oh." I don't know what to make of that. 

"He thought there'd be some marks you can't reach." Jinx grabs my shoulders with a surprisingly firm grip and rotates me. "Ah-ha!'

"How would he know where my marks are?" I ask as Jinx applies the cover-up with a gentle, expert hand. I know he saw parts of the bruises himself, but there is no way in hell he would have been able to see the parts where Jinx is currently dabbing. 

"I dunno," she shrugs. "His whole thing is knowing everything about everything and giving long lectures about life and stuff."

I swallow a laugh. "Is that so?" 

"The guy can monologue," she says as she finishes her task. She tosses the sponge into the bin. I close up the compact and try to pass it to her.

"Nope," she grins. "You give it back to him." 

"He'll get it back faster if you just take it," I counter.

"But that's not as fun. Byeeeee!" She flees the washroom trailing blue hair and mischievous laughter.

I take a moment to make sure all of my bruising is covered before figuring out how I'm going to carry the compact around until I can slip it back to Silco.

I slip the compact into my dress, the cold metal pressing against the side of my breast, sending goosebumps over my skin. It’s precarious, but should be fine until I can get the compact back to its owner. 

The chilly sensation makes my nipples harden beneath the fabric of my dress. I double-check the bodice to make sure nothing is visible. Thankfully, nothing is but as I walk back to the party, I'm keenly aware of how the fabric shifts across my already sensitive skin with every step I take.

I make a beeline for the bar, opting for something cool and light to drink. Pink sparkling wine flush with the taste of roses. 

Desdemona has shifted to more upbeat music. People are dancing. My body responds to the music, wanting to dance but aching to sing. I want to rip the microphone out of Desdemona's elegantly gloved hands because I know I can do it better.

I have done it better. Only a few short years ago, I sold out theaters. People came from all over the continent to hear my voice.

And I miss it.

But I don't miss it enough to go back to being the family show pony.

I see Lia and Mel dancing, having so much fun. I want to join them but Silco's compact is digging into my breast. I scan the crowd for him and I find him speaking to none other than my father. No way in hell am I going to approach either of them.

"Nesrin!" My sister beckons me. I have no reason not to join her. The thrum of the bass is practically begging to be danced to.

Lia and I have been in dance lessons since we could stand on our own two feet. We know how to move together and for a crowd of onlookers.

The beguiling Caris sisters. Positively enchanting. The envy of Piltover. Two sparkling diamonds ready to be sold off to the highest, most eligible bidders.

I down my drink, praying it does enough to separate my mind from my body just a tiny bit more. If I'm too aware of my own mind, I'll have to acknowledge how very selfish I am. By refusing to marry any number of perfectly agreeable, respectable men. I'm knowingly pushing the duties of an eldest daughter onto my sister.

It's infuriating that we live in the most progressive nation on this earth. We make leaps and bounds on a weekly basis, leaving everyone else in the dust. Yet my sister and I are bound to the most archaic, outdated traditions for no reason other than to make us seem rare. Elite. Unobtainable.

I need to get this gods damned compact out of my dress but the suave bastard moves from one conversation to another, as slick as oil.

I try to dance, but I can't lose myself in the music the way I want to. Every time I shift or sway, I feel the damned compact press against my skin, and my thoughts snap to him. He might as well be touching me himself with how distracted I am. 

Oh, why did I have to put that image into my mind? Now, all I can think about is what it would be like to dance with him. To feel his fingers glide over my skin. 

Not good. Not good, at all. 

Every time I find him in the crowd, he's locked in conversation. I never spot an opportunity to pull him aside and return what’s his.

I keep dancing, fighting the urge to belt out whatever song is playing. My skin feels as though it’s on fire despite the dropping temperature.

I need air.

Lia and I exchange a look. I gesture to the railing, indicating that I need a breather. She nods but shows no sign of slowing down. Why would she? She only has until sunset before mother sends her up to bed like a child.

I'll try to come up with an excuse to keep her at the party longer or I’ll just hope mother is too many drinks in to remember her rule. She hasn’t hounded me since she demanded I stay away from the Eye of Zaun and look how well that turned out.

I brace against the railing, leaning into the fresh, crisp breeze. It skates over my flushed skin, bringing instant relief.

I detect the faintest hint of salt on the wind. The breeze must be coming up from the west, bringing the scent of the ocean with it.

It's a clear day. Despite the brightness of the sinking sun, I turn my face to catch the breeze. The ocean is lit up by the low-hanging sun. A spit of pure gold on the horizon. The sight of it puts my heart at ease but also puts a deep ache in my chest.

"No one would ever guess you're sporting a rather impressive injury.”

Goodness, that voice. That damned voice. It’s all I can do not to let my head fall back at the sound of it.

My god, I'm more drunk than I realized. I glance at Silco from the corner of my eye. He's appeared on my left side again. Perhaps he means to shield my bruises from prying eyes but all he’s truly doing is blocking my view of the ocean.

"Jinx helped." I need to make sure the young girl gets credit where credit is due. "She somehow knew I couldn't reach every bruise." 

"Did she?" The note of wry amusement in his voice nearly turns my legs to jelly.

"Yes, at your direction." I turn to face him only to have my breath stolen right out of my lungs. His profile is set aglow by the sun, perfectly haloed. His good eye, fixed on the city beyond us, bright with some kind of inner fire. 

By some miracle, I find my words again. "How do you know so much about my injuries?" 

"When Piltover's Songbird appears in my city and gets into a scrape, it's my duty to know about it."

I go stone still, unsure of what my next move should be so I go with honesty.

"You know who I am." It's not a question but a statement.

"I'm not as out of touch as you might think, though that's easy to assume.” There's a note of bitterness in his voice. Not quite hostile but it’s enough to make me bristle.

"I'm not in the habit of making assumptions," I reply. "It is only that I've put a great deal of energy into staying out of the public eye since my departure from the stage. Having someone, a stranger no less, call me by that old nickname took me by surprise. Perhaps, it's you who should be more wary of making assumptions."

I don't mean to say that last part out loud but it tumbles from my lips before I can stop myself. I suppose I should look apologetic or cowed but I hold his gaze in the same, unflinching way he holds mine.

After a long moment, his brow quirks in amusement.

"You're right," he says. "I did make an assumption. That was rude of me, especially since you've been such a gracious host. Never has an attempted poisoning tasted so pleasant."

I bark at a laugh. "Don't pin that on me. Jinx was the one who first put the chocolate in the cup. I didn’t make you drink it."

The silence that settles between us is not companionable, familiar, or even comfortable but it's lighter and easier than silence between strangers should be. It puts a prickle over my skin. I'm reminded of why I needed to speak to him in the first place.

"This is yours," I say tactlessly as I angle my body away from any potential onlookers, toward him. My heart stutters when I realize I'm going to have to reach into my dress right in front of him to retrieve the borrowed compact. I didn't think this through.

Quickly, I dip my fingers beneath my bodice. I'm quick but not graceful. I end up dragging the damn thing directly across my breast in my haste. The rippled engravings and the metal's refusal to warm to my skin send dueling sensations over my nipple that make my breath stutter, but I hide it well enough.

Or so I think. 

When I offer the compact, I notice for the barest fraction of a second, his eyes are not on my outstretched hand but the low plunge of my neckline.

Before I can stop myself, I'm imagining his long, unfairly graceful fingers slipping beneath the fabric tracing the same pattern across my breast with a warm fingertip instead of cold metal. With a sharp inhale, he plucks the compact from my fingers and tucks it away.

"Excellent. Glad to be of service." The image of his fingers flees from my mind and I'm able to settle back into the present moment, though I feel a flush creeping around my neck.

From embarrassment, surely. Nothing more than that.

“You still haven't said how you knew the severity of my injuries."

"Haven't I?" He glances at me from the corner of his eye. "It's my job to know what happens on my streets. I'm very good at that job."

"You know that isn't a satisfactory answer," I press. "Were you on the street when it happened? Did you see?"

"I was in my office at the time." He turns his head to look at me dead on. His ruined eye burns like a dark eclipse. In total contrast to the bright, golden world around us. "But I have eyes everywhere."

"I expect as much from someone called the Eye of Zaun."

"Ah," he chuckles darkly. "You protest to being called by your moniker but readily call me by mine. Interesting."

Embarrassment stings my cheeks.

"Yes, that was careless of me." I lower my gaze. "But, despite the events of the evening thus far, we haven't actually been introduced. I don't know what to call you. Some call you a king. Do I call you your Highness?"

A chilled huff escapes his chest. "I'm no king. I don't claim any title."

"But you rule over a nation." I furrow my brow. 

"I am a caretaker of a nation. A broken one at that." His gaze travels across the river as something dark creeps into his good eye.

"Do I call you Lord Caretaker, then?" I ask with a touch of forced levity. It's enough to draw his gaze back to me though it doesn’t quite banish that darkness.

"Call me by my name," he says.

"Silco." My tongue caresses each syllable. It’s not the first time I’ve said his name, but something about this time strikes me. It tastes like the beginning of something. Something tight and trembling takes shape deep in my core and tightens more still when his thin mouth curves into a ghost of a smile.

I return with a smile of my own and extend a hand. "I'm delighted to meet you, Silco."

His hand slides into mine then engulfs it. The roughness of his palm takes me by surprise. He has the hands of a laborer, not a politician. 

"I'm pleased to meet someone who would protect one of my own without hesitation, Miss. Nesrin Caris."

"So, you do know my name," I grin. 

"Of course. Not many would step between an angry ex-enforcer strung out on low-quality shimmer and their target. The moment I heard, I made a point to learn your name."

"Is that why you're here tonight?" I ask, tilting my head to one side. "Because of what happened earlier?"

"Your Council isn't pleased with my lack of social participation," he says, choosing his words carefully. "I figured I could remove a thorn from my side and satisfy my curiosity as well."

His hand tightens on mine. I hadn't realized our hands were still joined. A deeply instilled sense of propriety urges me to pull away, but every other part of me screams to stay just as I am.

"Nesi!" Lia appears at my side in a cloud of pink, her delicate features knotted with anxiety. Her gaze lands on my hand joined with Silco’s and only then seems to comprehend who I'm locked in conversation with.

I remove my hand from Silco’s grip and suppress a shiver as his fingertips glide over the back of my hand.

I turn away from him to focus all of my attention on my sister.

"What's the matter?" I ask, tucking an errant lock of her hair back into place.

"I need your help with something," she says, casting a wary glance at Silco.

He clears his throat and bends forward in a short bow. "Please excuse me, Miss. Caris."

"Of course," I cast a thankful glance over my shoulder before returning my attention to my sister.

Though she tries to hide it, I don't miss the smug tilt of her mouth.

"Lia, did you only come over to interrupt a perfectly decent conversation with one of our invited guests?" I arch a brow.

"Do you always hold hands with guests?" She fires back.

"It was a handshake,” I say, though I don’t even try to sound convincing. Lia’s no fool. "Mother sent you over here, didn't she?"

"No," Lia replies. "But Mel and Jayce have been saying things about that man. They think he’s dangerous and, from what they're saying, he's done terrible things to get to where he is now."

Vera said something similar. I regret not asking her to elaborate when I had the chance. Perhaps, I could sneak back down to the kitchen?

Mel's warning slams into the forefront of my mind. 

He has this…way about him. 

Understatement of the year.

He oozes charm, charisma, danger, and darkness and I feel like I'm on the brink of being pulled into his riptide.

Maybe it's a good thing Lia interrupted when she did. It wouldn't hurt to take a few moments to reacquaint myself with reality.

"I really do need your help with something, though," she says, all nerves again.

"What?"

"Viktor's here." she can't even say his name without smiling. "Will you introduce me?"

I can't imagine why Viktor showed up. This kind of gathering might not be his worst nightmare, but I'm willing to bet something like this is in his top three.

"I will." I loop my arm through hers and let her lead me across the terrace. with every step, I'm certain I feel the Eye of Zaun watching me.

#silco #silco arcane #silco fanfic #jinx arcane #jinx #silco x oc #silco x ofc #silco x female character #first person pov #my writing #arcane fanfic #jinx being chaotic #fanfic #arcane silco #eye of zaun

[twinklelilstarkey]

Honestly i think it'll be a caetana x polo kinda thing (if you have watched elite) where she knows rafe is a bad person but he has and gives her everything she wants, so she stays by his side. When i saw the description that's what went through my mind, not the "I'll fix you" trope, and i like to think they won't waste such a good character. I hate rafe, because he's the worst a human being could be, that's what makes him a good and interesting character, would be stupid to put it to wast only because of some "romantic" bulshit famous on ya media

I love the example you gave, but I just... don't see it. I feel like Caetana and Polo's power dynamic (let's call it that) in their relationship was very much heavy on Caetana. She called the shots, most, if not, all the time, and I cannot see Rafe in a relationship like that one [if we're talking about him being in a relationship exactly like theirs]. I can't see him in any relationship, for that matter. But I like your example, I just feel like these writers (yes, I will hate on them again) wouldn't be able to achieve a romance like that one. And also, I see Rafe as too dependent on his dad. I don't see him ever leaving his side or accepting anyone else's advice but his. ESPECIALLY FROM A POGUE GIRL!!!!! UGH, I hate this.

But I do have to say, I can definitely see how OBX can ruin Rafe. In more ways than one, and all of them can very much happen. Months ago, I thought the worst one was the random love interest, and they just pulled this out of their asses today, so... I don't want to jinx anything else.

#Rita socializes #outer banks #rafe cameron #drew starkey