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corriganatheart · 1 year

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if he was MINE final/ João Félix x reader x Kylian Mbappé

Synopsis: Your best friend just got out of a toxic relationship and wants to date you.

Pairings: João Felix x fem!reader x Mbappé

Genre: Love triangle

Breaking News: Breaking news: Kylian Mbappé and Y/N officially call it quits after only a few weeks of dating. Many fans were suspicious of their relationship and suspected they were only short-term. Mbappé is now only focusing on his career and has no interest in starting a new relationship, whereas Y/N has reconciled her friendship with João Félix, and many fans think that might be the reason for the breakup.

1 months and 5 days later

“You good, bro?” Neymar asked, causing his teammate to shut his phone immediately. Even though Neymar pretended he didn’t see the screen, he did. Mbappé was staring at the picture of you wearing his uniform months ago, and even though it was unhealthy, he always found himself reaching for you when he needed motivation.

“Look, I’m not one to get into people’s business, but you don’t deserve this,” Neymar says as he squeezes his friend’s shoulder. “She made her choice, and it’s time to make yours.” Mbappé buried his face in his hands and groaned. “I’ll be fine, thanks.”

It has been over a month since you left him on the balcony without answers. He was disappointed, of course, but more disappointed in you than anything. You could’ve had your chance of freedom from João, but instead, you went back to the same place. "Ayo! it's time!" Hakimi barges in and shouts. Mbappé softly smiles and follows his teammates out of the locker room. Neymar and Hakimi glance at one another before patting their friend on the back.

The Golden Boy: You up for a late night walk?

Y/N: ...... dude its midnight. Why are you still up?

The Golden Boy: can't sleep, I keep thinking about u. 😌

Y/N: well arent you a smooth talker?

The Golden Boy: I’m on my way to ur place.

Y/N: don’t you have an early interview tmr?

The Golden Boy: IDC I want to see you for a bit🥺

Y/N: FINE!

After hearing a beep outside, you grab your jacket and rush down from your apartment. You and João had reconciled your friendship almost immediately after you flew back from France. He apologized and expressed how much he appreciated you. And since he was your best friend of several years, you couldn’t just ignore him forever, so you forgive him. You didn’t expect anything different from him besides friendship, but João has made it obvious that he wanted to further your relationship. And as promised, he has not been in contact with Magui and has been doing fine. But lately, everyone has been on your case for dumping Mbappé to be friends with João again. All his fans have criticized you and have made up numerous rumors, but you were ok with taking the heat because you got him involved in shit he shouldn’t have been in. If things were any different, you would’ve continued your friendship with Mbappé, but that would only complicate things. You guys were bound to be short-term, and the time has expired.

“Took you long enough,” João sarcastically says as soon as you get into his car. “I thought we were going on a walk?” You asked. João playfully rolls his eyes, “and be chased by creeps? Noway.” You chuckled and put on your seatbelt as he drove off. It has become customary for João to spend time with you after practice or after a long day of interviews. He has been trying to prove that he can make time for you and that you guys could be more than just friends. If this were before the scandal, you would’ve said yes within a heartbeat, but this was too early, and you aren’t sure if this was a good scenario. For all people know, you’re a villain for breaking Kylian Mbappé’s heart, and you’re sure people suspect that you’re the reason João and Magui broke up too. It was too early to jump into a new relationship, especially one you aren’t sure about.

“How was work today?” You asked. João shrugs, obviously not wanting to talk about the fact that he was asked about you during one of his interviews. Everyone was dying to know the gossip, but he didn’t want to put you in an awkward position. “Did you get to do anything fun?” You asked. João pretends to think, and then he grins, “yeah, actually, Kai was having a hungover during his interview, so that was interesting to watch.” You laughed and can only imagine the team dying from laughter because of Kai. “What about you?” He asked. “Did you do anything fun at home?” Your smile fades, and you look out of the window. You switched your job electronically after the news that you and Mbappé were over. It turns out, people can get through you in many ways, including harassing you at work and via emails.

“You know I’ll do anything to help you, right?” João asked while placing his hands on yours while the other steered the wheel. “Yes, and I’m thankful for that,” you mumbled. João smiles and pulls up to an empty parking lot of a park with a city and river view. “Remember the time when we used to play in the river like it was a pool? We were drowning ourselves in people’s shit,” he said while laughing. You groan, not wanting to remember that part of your childhood. “That’s so grosssss!” João turns his body, so he can face you as you do the same and lay the side of your head on the leather seat. “I like this,” he whispers. “Just us two with no one against us.” You smile and nod your head.

“I miss us,” you said. “We used to be drama free, but now look at us.” João places his hands on yours and rubs his thumb on your knuckles as he closes his eyes. “Close your eyes. I want to tell you something,” he mumbles. You do as he says and closes your eyes. “This is how I picture our future. You and me living in a big house in a field with gardens and flowers. We would have two boys while you’re pregnant with a girl. I would teach the boys how to play soccer as you watch us from a swing, with a book in your hand. By then, Portugal would at least win 1 World Cup, and I might be close to retirement. Our family would forever grow, and we would have two more kids until we decided that was enough. There would be no drama, just you, me, and our kids. Forever.”

You smile, liking the image popping into your head, but as you imagine your husband, your heart stops. The image of Mbappé smiling at you on the balcony pops up, completely erasing João from the picture. You immediately open your eyes and stare at João, who still has his eyes closed and smiling sweetly. “Wouldn’t that be perfect, Y/N?” He asked. You didn’t respond because you were lost for words. João is definitely your dream boy, but your heart was confusing you by remembering how Mbappé made you feel. You’ve known him briefly, but he was so sweet and everything you wanted a boyfriend to be. But he was too good for you and deserved someone that knows their feelings, and you couldn’t give him that.

“Has Hakimi contacted you?” João asked while tucking your hair behind your ears, and once again, you remembered how Mbappé tucked your hair. “I played his best friend. There’s no way he could forgive me,” you said sadly. João looks at you guiltily before he kisses your forehead. “He’ll come around, don’t worry.” You smile and nod, liking the way João is giving you attention. "Still, I can't imagine how awkward it is for him. He was basically the one that set us up. You know Hakimi has been my friend for a long time too, and his wife is a dear friend of mine also. They both love Mbappe and me, and I feel guilty doing this to him. If anything, Mbappe deserves better than me because he was such a sweetheart and gentleman. I do feel really bad for bringing him into this mess and-" you stop talking after realizing how uncomfortable this must be for João. He seems to also hate the idea of you feeling guilty or any sort of feelings for Mbappe. His ultimate goal is to have you by his side forever, but it was difficult because you won't let go of the two weeks' worth of fling. "Do you still like him?" João asked while staring at you intensely. You didn't answer immediately, so he was uncomfortable shifting in his seat and looking ahead of him. "I have been with you since we were a child Y/N. He's been with you for weeks. Think about it before you do anything risky."

News: PSG loses 3-0 to Bayern, even though they have top players in the team. Fans also noticed that PSG captain Kylian Mbappé was off during the game and wasn't thinking straight. Mbappé, who had proven many times that he could score several goals during the game, seemed unmotivated and showed a lack of spirit. This might also come with the fact that a month ago, he and his ex-girlfriend Y/N L/N called it quit and were under the heat for several weeks. Many fans hope the team gets it together and wins their next game against Chelsea.

Hakimi: Fix him.

Y/N: huh?

Hakimi: I said fix him.

Y/N: u are going to have to be more specific than that.

Hakimi: Kylian. He hasn't been the same since you deliberately dump him like trash.

Y/N: We were never together, so how can I dump him like trash?

Hakimi: Why did I ever think you were smart?

Y/N: 🖕🏼

Hakimi: just talk to him pls. He hasn’t been the same since y’all left ur fake relationship. I think you broke his pride and heart.

Y/N: wow u actually have a heart.

Hakimi: u ass my heart is more pure than urs for sure

Y/N: fine I’ll talk to him. But don’t expect anything else.

Hakimi: got it😏

“If we play like how we played last week, we’re fucked. So let’s get it together,” Hakimi says, mainly staring at Mbappé. He was a bit nervous for his friend because you’re in the crowd, and the opponent was Chelsea. They’ve been preparing daily to ensure they win the match, and Mbappé especially wanted to take the win. But right now, he is a bit concerned because his friend is too quiet. “We win and move on to the next match. Opponents are opponents,” Messi said casually, not understanding the love triangle between you, João, and Mbappé. “And control your emotions. We don’t need any of us to get a red,” Neymar warns while looking at Mbappé. “Speak for yourself, asshole,” Hakimi growls, causing Neymar to laugh. “Hey! I’ll score before you even know!”

“Fuck!” Neymar groans as he stares at the red card in his face. The referee decided he had had enough of the constant argument between Mason Mount and Neymar, so they both were given a red. “Not even one goal,” Hakimi shakes his head as the Brazilian player walks past him. He then looks over at Mbappé, who was awkwardly looking around the stadium, noticing the way people were whispering and taking videos of him. Mbappé had spotted you when they lined up, and for some obvious reasons, he was happy that you weren’t sporting João Félix’s shirt. He was also impressed that you felt confident enough to show yourself in public instead of hiding in the VIP lounge. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Sergio Ramos whispers in Mbappé's ears, causing the captain to smirk. “Sexy as hell. She needs to know that.” Sergio Ramos laughs and pats Mbappé on the back, “Kylian, you need to get that girl. Just tell her how you feel. You never know.”

Your heart races from the intense game displayed in front of you. Both teams did not want to give up, and it was one goal after another. Kylian Mbappé had scored a hat trick already, whereas João Félix scored two goals. You swear this game gets as many views as the World Cup because everyone wanted to watch the drama. A couple of PSG fans had already tried to get a reaction out of you but but you wore a sun glasses and stay very stern. Hakimi’s wife also tried not to show any type of reaction, but the other players wives and girlfriends were very invested.

“Are you going to talk to him after the game?” Hiba asked while staring at your emotionless face. “Hakimi requested I do, but we’ll see how the game goes,” you shrugged. Hiba gives you a wary look before she turns her focus back to the game. You’re sure she’s judging you; everyone that knows the whole story is judging you. To choose a guy that repeatedly disrespected himself is absurd, but no one knows how it feels. You can’t just abandon a long term friendship for a brief fake romance….not without some reassurance.

João glares at the other team as they hug one another and do their celebration dance. He did not miss the smirk that some PSG players threw at him. Kai and Mason go up to him, both swinging their arms around his shoulders, comforting their teammates. “We lost by one. One fucking goal,” Kai murmurs. João clenches his jaw as he sees Mbappé throws a glance at you, and what makes things worse is you’re looking at him too. “If I lose, I will look like a fool again. I’m going to make sure she’s mine by tonight.”

The Golden Boy: Where are you we need to talk?

Y/N: I’m with Hiba and her kids. We are waiting on Hakimi.

The Golden Boy: it’s important. I need to see u now.

Y/N: What is it? I promised Hakimi I would spend time with them….

The Golden Boy: I’ll come to u.

You look around the VIP lounge, wondering if João knew you’re supposed to have a conversation with Mbappé. He was your best friend, but you don’t owe him an explanation. You left things unanswered with Mbappé, and you’ll regret it one day if you don’t speak your mind.

“Hey, you good?” Hakimi asked when he saw how nervous you were. You just shrugged because you weren’t sure yourself. He was leading you to the private room where Mbappé is. Apparently, Mbappé is supposed to fly out to another country for work, and he’ll be busy for a while, so this was your only chance. “You know you’re supposed to follow what your gut tells you, right?” Hakimi asked when he stopped in front of a secluded area. “Yes, Achraf, thank you,” you said and hugged him. He returns the hug, whispering that everything will be ok.

Your phone rings as soon as you enter the room. Mbappé was already seated, his duffel bag next to him as he scrolled through his phone. He glanced at your phone and the back to your face. “Félix?” He says, already knowing who was trying to take you away. “Yeah,” you mumbled. Mbappé waits for you to pick up the phone, but to his surprise, you turn it off.

You chew on your lower lips as you wait for him to do something, anything, to get rid of the tension. He wasn’t making things easier as he stared at you with an emotionless eye. Your eyes wander to the little bar on the right side of the room, filled and untouched. As you take in your surrounding, Mbappé stands up and make his way toward you. You gulped, stepping a couple of steps back, and in no time, your back hit the wall, and Mbappé was standing a couple of inches from you. He was a lot taller than you and more prominent, and you aren’t sure if you were turned on by the way he was hatefully looking at you. “Say something,” you whispered, wanting to eliminate the strange tension. Mbappé continues to stare you down, his fingertips tracing your curves. “I should hate you. I should ruin you and never feel sorry. I should make you beg for my attention, for my touch, but I missed you too much,” he said, his French accent stronger than usual. “And I’m going to fucking regret doing this, but just remember you were the one that came to me,” he growls, and the next thing you know, his lips are on yours.

It took you nearly a minute to realize that Mbappé was kissing you, and it wasn’t an innocent kiss; it was a passionate kiss. Your heart started beating fast, but your body was reacting to him, and you were fully aware that your arms looped around his neck, bringing him closer. “I should’ve just done this, so you didn’t have to leave me,” he groans. You moan in return, and Mbappé takes that as a cue to kiss your neck. “tu me tue,” he whispers as he kisses your neck, and you don’t have the energy to ask what he is saying. “Kylian,” you whisper when you realize this is getting slightly out of hand. “I know, bébé, I know…” he groans and lays his head on your shoulder, trying to control himself.

After calming down, the both of you sat down, and you glanced at his bag. “I don’t have much time. I got a flight to catch,” he says. You softly smile and look into his eyes; they are still the same. “Hakimi said you are going to be busy for the next couple of months,” you said. Mbappé nodded, smiling lazily as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ears. “Yeah. A lot of offers and interviews and a lot of traveling.” You nod and wait for him to continue, but he waits for you to speak. You sighed, ready to talk about the situation. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, and he smiled. “It’s ok.” You shake your head, “no, it’s not. I acted selfishly and left you with no answer, no closure. Even though we were pretending, we were still friends. I shouldn’t have ditched you like that. Gosh, I felt so bad; Kylian and I have regretted it ever since.” Mbappé glances at an empty wall before he looks back at you, wondering what he should say. “Is that what you see us? Friends?” He asked. You shyly look away and shake your head. “I like you. I concluded after seeing you today and realizing how much I missed you. But I still have unsolved problems that I need to work out.”

Mbappé smiles, his eyes holding hope and a future. He likes you, and you want to know when that all started, but that was a different story. Maybe one day, he’ll share it with you. “Is three months enough?” He asked, and you realize he means that’s how long it’ll take for him to settle back to a regular schedule finally. “Will you still have the same feeling?” You asked because three months is more extended than people think. “I should be the one asking that,” he says, causing you to stare down at your hands. You weren’t going to make promises you can’t make because João is still around. Mbappé can see your unwary eyes, and he tilts your chin so you can look at him. “How about I text you in three months, maybe five days and 2 hours? You still own me the rest of the movie night” He jokes, and you chuckle. “That sounds very specific,” you said, causing him to laugh. “What can I say? I’m very persistent,” he winks.

After talking, Mbappé had to leave to catch his flight, and although he secretly suggested you go with him, you knew you couldn’t run away from your problems. João also needed answers, and you were finally ready to give them to him. “Where have you been?” João asked as soon as you walked into the apartment. He was frustrated with you and annoyed that you turned off your phone. “I was catching up with friends,” you mumbled and placed your bag on the kitchen counter. You look at the dining table that has candles and food laid out. João rented an apartment for you to stay and he had to choose the most expensive one to impress you. “Who are the friends?” He glared at you while asking. You narrow your eyes, annoyed by the way his tone sounded. “That’s none of your business,” you spat, causing him to clench his jaws. He then looks at your neck, and his eyes shift from anger to disgust. “Who the fuck give you a hickey?” He demanded as he moved closer to you. Your eyes widen, and you touch your neck. João grabbed hold of your arm and stared down at the hickey. “You fucked someone” He accused without hesitation. This causes you to frustratedly pull your arms away, “what is wrong with you?” You asked. João ignores your question and walks to the dining table. He then swings his hands across the table, causing plates, vases, flowers, and everything to shatter on the floor. “I’m losing you! Why am I losing you!” He yells. This causes you to step backward, nearly tripping on your way. “You said you were in love with me, Y/N! What happened now? Why do I keep losing!”

You stand there, surprised, annoyed, confused, and angry at the sight before you. João is emotionally not stable right now, and you know there is much more than what he is saying. “João you…what are you saying?” You asked while moving closer to his sulking form. He was now on the ground, his hands bleeding as he cried. “First Magui and now you. I keep losing the people I love to others.” Your heart breaks for him as you rush towards his side and pull him into a hug, ignoring the sting on your knees due to the glass pieces. “You’re going to be fine,” you whispered, soothing him. “I can’t fucking lose you, too,” he mumbles. “Gosh, I loved her so much.” And for the first time, your heart didn’t shatter at the mention of João loving someone else; you’re just here as his best friend, comforting him through the pain. João was still moving on, and you would be the key, but now you realize he was still in pain, still insecure. And you were here as a best friend, not someone with a crush on him. “Y/N, please stay by my side forever. I can’t lose you too.” You smiled because you finally knew what needed to be done, and even though it would break your heart, it had to be done.

1 month later

Breaking News: Portugal and Chelsea player João Félix is spotted on a date with his on-and-off girlfriend, Magui Corceiro. This happens only a month after he and his former best friend Y/N L/N unfollow one another, and him confirming that they’re no longer friends, and it’s a mutual decision. Y/N, on the other hand, decided to go private on her social media and has been staying quiet. Many fans are disappointed in Felix’s decision to return to Magui, but many think this has to happen so Y/N can finally leave the friendship. As for Y/N’s former fling, Kylian Mbappé, many fans hope there is a reconciliation because they still follow one another.

3 months, 5 days, and 2 hours later

Kylian: Hey bébé, wanna finish up that movie? ✈️🇫🇷

Y/N: ……..pick me up ❤️

The End

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rkdhsdl · 5 months

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you are feeding into my hpma brainrot right now T~T LIKE I JUST STARTED PLAYING YESTERDAY AND EXPECTED FEWER FCS AND HCS OF DANIEL BUT HERE YOU ARE DOING THE LORD'S WORK.

for a short fic idea, how about a y/n with a flirty attitude that says cheesy pick-up lines to daniel as a way to tease him thinking he'd just shrug them off but he actually fell for them as time passed on. (and they're in the same friend group which makes it harder for daniel to not fall for them)

keep writing author!! i am your number one fan right now (self proclaimed title)

-K.M

love, don’t do this to me…

word count: 1846 gender neutral reader character(s): daniel page TW/CW: i don’t know man, ooc characters + i forgor the story so it probably doesn’t make sense writer’s notes: daniel’s hopelessly in love w/ u and he doesn’t know what to do, and i’m using some of the pickup lines my s/o uses bc they’re so corny + and i think i made this too long oopsies

daniel’s first thought when he met you within the train to hogwarts was, ‘what an eccentric person,’ and nothing more. he still remembers your first interaction with him– well, not really, as he was just watching you talking with lottie animatedly. never would he have realised that he would fall for you in such a short amount of time.

now, daniel thinks that liking you is somewhat of a curse that you put on him, a spell, mayhaps a potion? but he knows deep inside of his heart that isn’t really the case. after some… incidents during your third year, you and your friend group, which included himself, reconciled properly- which may have been the trigger to his thumping heart whenever you were near.

it first started when you were all in your fourth years, sitting on the long dinner tables.

“hey, daniel, oi, listen!” you snap your fingers in front of his face, caramel eyes blinking and looking at you in curiosity. you continue, “you know, it’s pretty hot here…”

daniel squints at you in confusion, eyes urging you to continue. ivy starts to laugh, covering her mouth in a poor attempt to hold her chuckles.

“what do you mean? it’s pretty cool here.” the brown haired boy retorts in confusion.

“i don’t know, to me it’s quite toasty here… maybe it’s because you just came out of the oven, cause you’re really hot–”

daniel’s face contorts into surprise as his ears burn, hands scrambling to cover your mouth before he heard anything more. his eyebrows furrow in annoyance as he notices how your (e/c) eyes started to gleam of smugness, feeling your lips turn into a coy smile.

“merlin’s beard, (y/n), that is not appropriate in public!” the auburn haired boy reprimands you. to be completely honest, he would’ve come back at you with another, more, cheesy pick up line, but in the moment, he could only think about your words. he knew himself that your words didn’t really have much meaning to it, as he heard you vocalise similar words towards the others.

but he couldn’t help but hear his own heart beat vigorously at the thought of you really meaning it to him.

after that, daniel started to act a little off around you. you didn’t notice, though on the other hand, ivy, robyn, kevin and lottie would roll their eyes in exasperation as they saw their brown eyed friend stutter and trip on his steps around you, face burning in a red flush whenever you and daniel would accidentally lock gazes together.

the second time he knew again was in your fifth year.

“come on, daniel, you know you like them!” robyn’s voice is piercing in the evening air, as she points an accusing finger towards daniel.

“shush! what if they hear?” daniel attempts to calm robyn down as he looks around.

and speak of the devil, you float down from your broom, in all your glory as you plop down next to ivy as you bring your broom towards the floor.

“well, since you called, here i am, what’s your other two wishes?” you speak, voice suave and laced with confidence as you lean towards daniel. the four friends gather slightly and watch, finding amusement when daniel starts to stutter and shut down, face turning bright red. your eyes crinkle into a satisfied smirk as you pat his back quite harshly, causing the boy to stumble in his stupor.

“so, why are we here again?” you ask, looking at the dark forest near hagrid’s home, subconsciously taking daniel’s hand into yours as you drag him around towards the entrance– or so you presumed to be– of the forest. the tawny haired boy felt your hand against his, as his mind started to clog up with nothing but fluster, unable to listen to whatever you and the others were talking about.

following this situation, daniel had promptly started avoiding you, which made you slightly confused, though you paid no mind. maybe something happened again, you’d think, as you walk around hogsmeade with lottie and ivy.

the third time he found himself kicking his feet like a highschooler in love was in his dorm bed during the sixth year.

daniel eventually learned the hard way that avoiding and evading situations where you’d be in was unavoidable, and eventually started to try be less obvious about his feelings for you. hopefully, you didn’t know. the last he would want is for your friendship to sever due to his feelings.

daniel was waiting in one of the cafes at hogsmeade as he waited for your arrival. you arrive, cheeks rosy and warm due to the cold of the winter, wrapped up and cosy in your overcoat, scarf and hat. you looked adorable in daniel’s eyes, and he didn’t know that he was staring until you waved your gloved hands in front of him.

he looks at the menu with you, skimming through the assortment of drinks and desserts listed.

as you both order, you both start talking about school, until you decide to start another of your corny pick up lines.

“hey, daniel, you know what’s on the menu?” you ask, trying your best not to pop out a smile.

the boy nods, “yeah, drinks and sorts?”

“no, no, it’s me ‘n’ you~” you reply, with an arch tone laced into your voice. daniel’s eyes blow wide open, ears burning once more as he stares at you dumbfounded, taking some time to understand your words.

once it processes, daniel starts to malfunction slightly as he slams his head on the table, causing some looks from the other booths. you jump slightly, startled, but pat his head as you chuckle.

“really, daniel? your reactions are just too cute!” you coo. your words turn daniel into mush, as he leans into your hand. he wishes you also like him back, as he presses his head into his arms more in bashfulness.

once the two of you headed back to hogwarts, he was nearly screaming into his pillow that night as he kicks his feet, reminiscing your actions and words again and again, repeat in his mind.

the fourth time he know he’s fallen helplessly in love with you was the seventh year, during the early start.

daniel knows that there isn’t much time, and he wishes to spend as much time with you. you and your friends, including him, know that soon, after graduation, you all will part ways, contacts rare as you all live your own individual lives.

the chocolate eyed boy wishes that time would stop, as he looks at your animated conversation with lottie about a new art museum that opened near your home. his gaze is sewn with love and adoration as his eyes trace the side of your face, the outlines and your joyful expression.

ivy, robyn and kevin look at daniel with a deadpan stare as they look at each other with a knowing look.

what the four– including lottie– knew was how you’d stare at daniel the same when he’d be brewing potions in the small potions room that he was practically living in, (e/c) eyes reflecting the small flame under the cauldron as you’d admire his focused expression.

they knew the both of you were hopelessly in love with each other, and they did not want the two of you to part ways without a proper ending.

the four arrange a group study meeting in the library, only for them to not appear as you and daniel stare awkwardly at each other, waiting for lottie, ivy, robyn and kevin.

“maybe they bailed? it’s been well over half an hour…” you mutter, as you set your bag down on the floor, gesturing daniel to sit to the opposite of you.

he complies, pulling the chair to accommodate himself as he sets some books down on the wooden table.

moments of silence pass as you look up towards the boy, his coppery coloured hair complementing his face swishes around slightly as his eyes and head move around to search for information.

“daniel?”

he looks up at you, tilting his head as you smile slightly.

“you know, i’m studying to be a historian, because i’m quite interested into finding a date…”

daniel blinks for a few seconds, face bursting into a bright red, as he stares at you once again in stupor, mouth opening and closing as he attempts to find the right words to come back at your cheesy pick up line. his attempts fail as he deflates into his chair, head sinking down into his hands as he cools his face down.

you chuckle in amusement as you put your books into your bag, doing the same to the flushed boy’s, giving out his bag to him as you stand to his right, scanning his flustered features on his face.

daniel stands up soon after, taking his bag from your hands as he looks away from your smug face, speedwalking from you towards the exit, as you run towards him in mirth, your chuckles reaching his red ears.

the fifth and last time he knows he needs to confess is in christmas, during your seventh year, the last year in hogwarts.

his hands are clammy and shaking, once again in the cafe at hogsmeade, awaiting your arrival. christmas songs are ringing in the streets, as children skip around in merry joy with the songs as the adults walk around, smiles donning their faces.

the bell of the cafe rings as you enter the cafe, sliding into daniel’s booth, smiling as you dust some of the snow off of your shoulders. daniel thinks you look adorable as ever, as he pushes your favourite drink towards you as he sips on his. you look at him with glee as you take the warm beverage with appreciation, smiling as you enjoy the taste.

“(y/n)?” he calls out to you, as you look at him with curiosity. daniel continues, a small smile playing on his features.

“they say nothing lasts forever—so would you be my nothing?”

daniel thinks he did a good job in hiding his nervousness as he looks towards the window, unable to wait for your reaction.

from the peripheral vision of his eyes, he sees your face flare up, ears warm as your eyes stare at him in fluster.

ah, success… he thinks, as he looks at you with the same coy smile of yours, as he gestures for you to come closer. you comply, unable to retort another pick up line back.

“so, would you be the final piece of my life?” he whispers in your ear. daniel hopes that you reciprocate his feelings back, as he looks at you expectantly.

you nod, as you hide your face in your scarf as you collapse into your seat, thoughts running in your mind as you malfunction, unable to connect comprehensible words.

daniel chuckles as he reaches over to pat the top of your head in endearment.

at least he isn’t the only one with adorable reactions.

#hpma x reader #hpma #daniel page x reader #daniel page

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unhealthy-reading-habits · 9 months

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Like many people, I binged watched Season 2 of Good Omens on Friday. I had a couple of days to deal with all the emotions, and I’ve now reached an epiphany. What follows here is the mad rambling of a GO apologist.

Warning: Good Omens Season 2 spoilers ahead, do not read if you don’t want spoilers. I will be spoiling the ending of Season 2 in this post. Please go watch it first. I’m also going to mention the ending of two of Jane Austen’s works (P&P and S&S)

The epiphany: Good Omens is a romantic story. Both Crowley and Aziraphale asked for this heartbreak but both are so woefully naïve about what love is, they didn’t even realise what they were asking for.

What do I mean by this?

In episode 2 (S2), they both describe what they think a romantic scenario is, but both are only focusing on the romantic finale. They are not thinking about the build-up to that moment, which includes a heartbreaking separation which only then leads to those romantic conclusions.

They are actually describing the same romantic scenario of having a separation and then reuniting in love again, they just present the scene differently.

Crowley describes his idea of romance as two people looking longingly into each other's eyes in the rain. He does say “beneath a canopy” but follows the above line by saying that if you “get humans wet and staring into each other’s eyes”, this is what makes them fall in love, so Crowley is talking about confirming your love in the rain.

Examples in Richard Curtis films

Four Weddings and a Funeral - No cover, just rain kissing

Bridget Jones's Diary - No cover, just snow kissing

At face value, we think Crowley is saying the rain thing because of what happened at Eden, and I think that is part of it. But keep in mind that during the "before the beginning" scene and at the Eden scene, neither of them stared into each other’s eyes. They both kept facing forward.

What Crowley is actually describing is the romantic trope of the protagonist couple having a love-confirming kiss in the rain. The issue is the “confirmation” love kiss occurs after there is a period of separation or break-up in the relationship itself.

It’s sometimes called the “Second-Act Breakup” or "Third-Act Breakup" and the ending of Season 2 is a classic set-up for a Break-Up/Make-Up Scenario.

The trope often happens after the couple get into a big fight/misunderstanding/some event that breaks the two people up. The “under a canopy” bit isn’t the important detail here, the actual romantic scene Crowley is eluding to is the reunion kiss in the rain. To get a reunion kiss though, you need to break up properly first.

The romantic film story for the reunion kiss in the rain is only fully satisfying because it’s the moment after the horrible low of the two breaking apart, trying to forget the other person and thinking that they might not be together. So when the two characters do reunite at the end, it is a great romantic conclusion to the story.

Aziraphale described his idea of romance as going to a ball in a Jane Austen novel, where the characters realise they misunderstood each other, but the misunderstanding has to come first in this case.

It’s very obvious that the Good Omens 2 story is only halfway through and is written like a Jane Austen novel, which is blatantly said throughout the show.

[Side note: it’s been years since I read these novels so I’m hoping I’m not misremembering.]

Pride & Prejudice – Elizabeth angrily and rather viciously rejects Mr Darcy’s proposal mid-way through the novel and the remainder of the story is the “being separated” phase of the romance until they are reconciled at the end.

Sense & Sensibility – Elinor’s affection for Edward is disrupted by Lucy Steele’s presence as Edward’s fiancé half way through the novel. This “break up” of the courting between Elinor and Edward is only resolved at the end of the story when Lucy leaves Edward and he is now free to propose to Elinor.

The two most well-known stories by Jane Austen have a break up/separation scene about half way through, which the characters have to work through to then have the reunited happy ending.

For the Break-Up/Make-Up story, the two romantic interested need to finally realise/decide to disregard everything else, settle the misunderstanding and reunite, that’s the finality of the romance. To get this scene, you have to go through the break-up where the two separate first to get those raw emotions, which makes the reunited ending so incredible.

Yes, Aziraphale and Crowley have had fights and temporary lapses in their relationship, like the bandstand scene. But it’s not really them that are causing the break-up. It’s outside forces pressuring them, the environment around them making them act this way. They are also only fighting about something external (raising the antichrist, finding the antichrist etc).

This break-up is more personal, it is them individually instigating the break-up over their own intimate relationship. It’s not the usual song-and-dance, this is Aziraphale choosing a plan and Crowley choosing a different plan and both are too stubborn to relent.

It is Crowley and Aziraphale choosing to split because they cannot reconcile their opposing views about their own relationship and both choose to walk away from the situation.

There is a hypothesis about the “coffee” and Metatron’s maybe brainwashing here, but in my opinion, Aziraphale still chose his plan for their relationship over Crowley’s plan for their relationship. This was a conscious choice on Aziraphale's part.

This time, they were arguing about themselves, which led to a true break-up. An irreconcilable argument between them that they must work through so their relationship can mature:

Crowley still cannot understand that Aziraphale will never run away with him to be just the two of them. Aziraphale cares too much about Earth and humanity and wants to help people, so Aziraphale will never just leave.

Aziraphale still cannot accept that Crowley is not and does not want to be an angel. Aziraphale is not listening to Crowley when he says he does not want to go back to how things were before because he is genuinely happy with just being with Aziraphale.

Aziraphale consistently reminds himself that Crowley is a demon because (maybe knowingly, maybe subconsciously) he still sees him as an angel.

Crowley’s good actions further emphasise what Aziraphale already knows, that Crowley is a good person, but it’s very difficult for Aziraphale to separate the concepts of “good” and “angel”.

Both of them are not accepting the other as they truly are. Their relationship needs a real break-up, caused by themselves so that they can learn to accept each other as their full authentic selves.

We have to endure the low points to fully enjoy the high points.

Neil Gaiman has been very clear he intends there to be a season 3 so this love story is only halfway through, and frustratingly the break-up scene is the end of season 2. It’s like ending P&P when Elizabeth rejects Mr Darcy’s first proposal, or ending The Notebook as Allie sees the newspaper article about Noah but not showing them getting back together.

We know Crowley and Aziraphale will end up at the South Downs cottage. It’s just an emotional heart-wrenching journey between the two points. But when we get that reunion between them, it’s going to be delicious.

P.S. Neil Gaiman, you goddamn tease, if you are going for a full P&P/kiss in the rain experience, I really hope we get an Aziraphale wet shirt scene

#ineffable husbands #good omens meta #crowley and aziraphale #good omens season 2 #good omens spoilers #gos2 spoilers #good omens s2 spoilers #good omens season 2 spoilers #good omens

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mxtxfanatic · 1 year

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Another pro-reader tip for mxtx novels: they are all stories with clear-cut good guys and bad guys and a strong moral message, BUT you have to actually read what the story has to say about characters without taking anything at face value, relying on genre tropes, or using identities and statuses as shorthand to your understanding of the moral system and themes of the story. So no, most characters in her stories are not morally gray (though some are, most can be definitively categorized as either morally good or bad, and ALL of her main characters are definitively morally good), and no she does not write morally gray plots where “morality is just subjective!” If anything, the term I think people are looking for is “morally neutral” (meaning that the thing is not assigned a morality in and of itself) in many cases.

An mxtx character is never designated as good or bad based off their backgrounds or class: Wei Wuxian, Jin Guangyao, Shen Jiu, and Mu Qing all grow up outside of the elite class, but Mu Qing (eventually) and Wei Wuxian are unquestionably good guys while Jin Guangyao and Shen Jiu are unquestionable villains. Shen Yuan, Lan Wangji, and Xie Lian all grow up within the gentry class but are all good guys while Jiang Cheng, Jun Wu, and The Old Palace Master are bad. Likewise, life circumstances or tools don’t determine morality. In mdzs, the sword path (which is the orthodox one) is used to commit genocide by the general cultivation world just as easily as Lan Wangji wields it to protect the forsaken commoners. Wei Wuxian’s ghost path was created to protect himself before being used to protect others, but Xue Yang and the Jin Clan pervert it to cause mass destruction for their own wishes. In tgcf, Xie Lian uses his god powers to attempt to help the Yong’an people while the other gods simply collect worshippers to increase their power and oppress lesser gods. Every character I’ve listed minus the Old Palace Master has experienced intense trauma that has informed their lives and colors their morality, but it does not define why they have chosen to take on certain moral stances.

(This is not to say that mxtx doesn’t have certain tropes she dislikes, as she clearly hates the “dedicate their whole existence completely to another person” trope. Su She, a villain dedicated to Jin Guangyao, dies. Zhuzhi-lang, a sympathetic antagonist dedicated to Tianlang-jun, dies. Hua Cheng, A WHOLE LOVE INTEREST dedicated to the literal main character, dies a whopping three (3) times before he learns his lesson.)

Mxtx does not condemn those who stray from orthodoxy. In fact, every story she’s (currently) written is about the dangers of entrenched and unquestioned hierarchy and status quo giving way to corruption every time. She wants you to question the dominant narrative of the benevolent group who descend from on high to “save the ignorant masses.” She wants you to question the idea that the only people with the right of choice are those at the top of the hierarchy. She wants you to question the idea that even the smallest decision of “powerless” people does not matter in “the grand scheme of things.” She wants you to actually think about the story conventions that you accept as infallible and question whether or not it would make for good shorthand by which to understand well-written characters and story arcs (and also, hopefully, how society is structured at large). So if you find yourself reading an mxtx novel and siding with the mob characters or lamenting how x character was locked into making certain choices “against their will” or being unable to reconcile how a recognized trope led to an unexpected conclusion because “that’s not how it’s supposed to go,” then it may do you some good to stop and ask yourself “was this idea supported by the narrative that I read in the book, or is this an idea I’ve come to entirely from my own preconceived notions of how I wanted the story to turn out based on how other, similar stories have panned out?”

#human metas mxtx #mdzs #svsss #tgcf #and this isn’t to say that you can’t question mxtx’s choices #again her work BEGS you to do just that #but you can’t have an adequate critique of something you refuse to even see for what it is #if you are expecting a normative genre piece from mxtx #you will leave disappointed with the ways in which she specifically breaks those norms #you will walk away without understanding how or why she chose to do so #and you’ll misunderstand her intentions and her works by foregoing this understanding

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achaotichuman · 9 days

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Hedonism

Welcome back for day three of Tamlin Week, today's prompt I went with both. Prompts- Flower language, and Mates. Though I used them quite loosely in this fiction.

This oneshot is focusing around Tamlin reconciling with his feelings about Lucien and taking action finally to attempt to fix what he has lost. He has never been good with words, and much less any kind of relationship. But for Lucien he will try. For Lucien he has to try.

You can read on Ao3 or below the cut!

Warning- Explicit Mature Content.

The sun was on the edge of the horizon, a few minutes from slipping below the line of the glittering sea when Tamlin landed in Day. The white marble, sandstone and gold gleamed in the dusk light. A smatter of pinks and yellows smeared over the picturesque city. His own golden hair gleamed in the light. The gold in his eyes like spots of sunlight as he looked upon the Palace of gems and carved marble.

The guards standing as sentries either side of the large gilded doors shared a glance. Neither showing any signs of recognition when they looked upon the disgraced High Lord. The disappointment of his father, and his father before him. It was a sigh of relief to for once not be seen as the Lord of the Spring Lands.

Tonight he had braided his hair with forget-me-nots, marigolds and bluebells. Spilling down the plain white shirt he wore. A simple beige coat overtop, and black pants. Daggers nowhere to be seen tonight, only a leather satchel slung over his chest. Gripping the leather strap tightly, he lowered his head and looked through his long, blond eyelashes at the guards. Walking slowly up the stairs.

“Your business here?” The one on the left, a male dressed in armour from head to toe, but with a peek of dark gold hair underneath his helmet.

“I am here to see the Lord Lucien Van- SpellCleaver.” Tamlin corrected himself quickly.

The guards both scrutinised him. But ultimately didn’t seem to think he was lying. Lucien had spies and sources scattered all throughout Prythian, it wasn’t an unlikely story that he was one of those.

One guard called for an escort to take Tamlin into the Palace. Two new guards flanking him as he was led through winding hallways covered in finary. With statues of females and males lounging amongst their own nakedness, and art of swirling colours hanging from the pristine walls.

Thesan’s Palace was grander, but Day held a hedonistic, lightly charged sense of finary. That Tamlin didn’t feel he belonged in. Lucien certainly did, the male was the definition of hedonistic.

With scarlet hair that fell in thick, shiny waves over his shoulders, spilling down his back. Gleaming dark skin that glowed in afternoon sunlight. Amber eyes that shone with tame wickedness, even that scar added a hint of cruelty that only added to roughen his sharp appearance. Making him appear like a freshly sharpened blade.

With a build made to wield weapons with effortless grace it was no wonder he resembled one. Tamlin looked down at the rolled out carpet across the tiled floors. All swirling gold and white.

He was a smear of mud in an otherwise perfect painting. He shouldn’t have come here tonight.

Eventually they faced a large dark oak door. Silence rang through the world, and Tamlin’s hand twitched. The servant, with fluttering wings and dark skin, who had been his escort, knocked three times in rapid succession.

“Enter.” A muffled voice called, and Tamlin’s heart throbbed against his ribcage. He knew that voice so, so well.

The delicate wrist of the Day Faery opened the golden handle, and the door swung open. Letting Tamlin take in the dappled sunshine breathing through the large open windows of the office. It was simple, simpler than the rest of the grand palace, but just as tasteful. With white lounges and dark wood furniture. And every wall that was not a window was a display case for dozens, if not hundreds of books.

Lucien didn’t look up from his desk, as he scribbled away at writing some kind of letter. His slender fingers stained with black ink. A smudge under his eye, and on his cheek. His hair was held back by a red satin band. And he wore a long loose red silk robe with swirls of gold, open over his chest.

“What is it?” Lucien asked, not looking up.

“You have a visitor, my Lord.” The servant said, bowing low.

“I do-” Lucien cut himself short as he finally looked up.

“Everyone leave.” Lucien ordered, standing up to reveal the loose knot at his waist.

In a second, the guards and servant scattered out, the door clicking shut behind Tamlin. His heart thundering as Lucien stepped away from behind his desk, robe swishing with every movement. His long hair fluttered behind him, strands of wine red hair glowing dark in the dying sunlight. He stared at Tamin, those glowering amber eyes not looking at his face but rather fixated on the flowers in his hair.

“Tamlin.” Lucien said, as he made his way to a white lounge. Effortlessly draping himself over the blankets tossed lazily across it. A blank expression in his face, but his eyes revealed the true expanse of emotions hiding behind his false indifference, “What brings you from the South to the Solar Courts.”

“Are we really playing this game?” Tamlin asked with a cocked eyebrow, truly his hands began to tremble, so he folded them behind his back. Lucien’s eyes darted to the motion as a cruel smile slipped over his face, he knew, the bastard always knew.

“Yes we are.” Lucien murmured, “You ensured it the last time I was in Spring. That we were back to these games.”

The last time Tamlin had laid eyes on Lucien. When they had fought so ferociously, both losing themselves to suppressed anger and the trauma they desperately hid from the eyes of others. Lucien had spat venomous words that in hindsight Tamlin knew he hadn’t meant. But in the moment, they had struck true.

His magic had lost control once again. Falling prey to the insane beast writhing within him. He hadn’t meant to, but he’d done it all the same. Lucien had left with bruises and cuts, the most prominent of them all a blackened eye.

Tamlin had run for him, but Lucien was gone with tears in his eyes before he could get a word out.

“I didn’t mean it.” Tamlin whispered softly, "Truly I didn’t.”

“Doesn’t matter though does it?” Lucien hissed, “I know you can’t control your magic Tamlin, it wasn’t about the injury. For fuck’s sake, I broke your arm once on accident during sparring. But fucking Cauldron on earth and Mother in sky, I apologised right after.”

Tamlin kept his mouth shut and his eyes forward. Taking everything he said.

“You’ve taken two years Tamlin, two fucking years. Two years of me thinking everything we had was truly thrown away, and now you come here thinking you can make it alright with an apology?” Lucien stood, gracefully smooth, that scarlet silk caressing his naked skin underneath.

He said nothing, just waiting, waiting as Lucien watched him with those cunning, sharp eyes. Staring him down like he was deciding whether to ask him to leave or to punch him in the face. Neither Tamlin would have hated him for.

Lucien waited for his response too, and when it was clear Tamlin wasn’t saying anything. He stalked forward. Head high and eyes locked in on green. The sun’s rays disappearing behind the horizon.

Tamlin’s eyes trailed up and down Lucien, “Is it thrown away?”

For once during this entire conversation, Lucien looked at a loss for words. As if he had practised this encounter a hundred times over in the mirror, like Tamlin wasn’t following the script he had out, “What?”

“Is it thrown away? Is everything we used to be just,” Tamlin made a flitting gesture, “Gone.”

Silence echoed like thunder through the room. The room began to darken, as the sun was almost fully set. The pinks it left behind slowly dimming and giving way to deep purple and endless midnight blue.

“I don’t know.” Lucien whispered.

Tamlin didn’t know either, he just knew he had to make this right. One way or another. Find someway to fix this. There was hope, Lucien hadn’t thrown him out yet, he was standing right in front of him. Telling him off as he had done for years.

In those burning amber eyes, there was want. Lucien had waited for this day, so there must be some part of him that wanted it.

And Tamlin needed to take advantage of the opportunity he had. To rekindle what they had lost, what in part had been taken from them, and in part he had neglected.

But there were no words that he had that could fix this. No magic he possessed that could rebuild their relationship right this second.

So Tamlin instead said something he knew Lucien would want to hear anyway, “The bar down in Summer is closing.”

Lucien blinked at him, surprised once more, Tamlin put the cherry on top, “It’s their last night open, they have a deal going. Three shots for the price of one.”

That bar was owned by two Lords who had moved to working in Tarquin’s Court. Tamlin had known them as long as he had been of drinking age. And knew they had a large supply of cheap alcohol that needed getting rid of quickly.

There was a heartbeat of silence, followed by another.

Lucien turned on his heel and headed for a door that when it swung open, revealed his sleeping quarters. He slammed the door shut and Tamlin flinched, blinking at the door.

A grin curled on his lips as Tamlin counted in his head.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

The door swung open again and Lucien was fully dressed. Simple and mostly plain. A billowing white shirt with black pants. A golden drop hung from one ear, and a simple necklace with a blood red ruby dangled around his throat.

“Off we go.” Lucien said, already heading for the door.

And Tamlin was quick to follow.

Disappearing from Day, they left the rich smells and salaciously, tasteful erotic air behind. Exchanging it for one of loud ruckus, the reek of cheap alcohol, and smoke thick air.

Tamlin didn’t bat an eye as he walked from the old, chipped away street just on the outskirts of the Summer Court into the small half-broken door of the bar sitting like a hole in the line of old, old buildings. But from the corner of his eye, he watched Lucien’s back suddenly straighten, his face souring as his nose scrunched and his eyes narrowed.

This, this felt more like him. Dirty, depraved and awful. A stain on the floor. It wasn’t Lucien though. May have been what he felt like years ago, but now as he had been reunited with his mother, with his brothers. And brought to a place that he clicked like the last piece of a puzzle, it wasn’t him any longer.

It didn’t stop him though, from walking beside Tamlin into the crowded, roaring bar.

The Lords of this place had neglected it for a while, leaving it all to be run by the two managers in charge. Once they made their way up the imperial ladder, they were finally closing it down. In all honesty the place was overrun by criminals, and should have been shut down ages ago.

But the drunk violence, the selfish greed all around, the haze of drugs outlawed by the Court they were in and the unrestricted amount of drinks that poured from the bar, was something Tamlin needed to be able to forget. He knew it was disgusting. He knew he was partially hated by it. But he was a selfish man and that much he could admit.

Lucien wasn’t though, which was why he seemed so out of place.

But one thing was for sure. In the depraved darkness of this place, there was only a hunger for something to forget the days before and the days to come. To give in to the young of the night and let the swirling midnight haze sweep through the mind. As such, the formal resentment between High and Lesser Fae slipped away in this place. Turning a mix of cliques. Either those looking for a good fight to work out the tension of their work day, or those looking for a good fuck to work out their unmet need for pleasure.

So Tamlin and Lucien elbowed their way through both High and Lesser Fae. Until they found two thankfully empty seats right at the bar counter.

Both quickly stole away a place, and let their heavy selves rest against the countertop. The bartender looked up to see them. A lesser faery named Laurel, with white wings that were tinted pink at the edges. She had pale pink skin and an arrangement of flowers falling from her white hair. Despite the loveliness of her appearance. Laurel was also tall, taller than Tamlin, and stronger than him too. He knew that only because of the time he had drunkenly pushed a male down against the bartop and sucked him off on the spot. That night Laurel had to pick him and the male up and throw them outside.

She saw them and waved with a big grin on her face. In a second she had three shots poured out and all were in front of them in a second.

“Tam, long time no see.” She yelled over the crowd.

“Good to see you too, Laurel!” He told her back, he then clasped Lucien’s shoulder and asked, “You remember Lu, right?”

“Yeah, course I remember Lucy.” She smiled at Lucien who waved back.

“Yell out when you want more drinks, boys, there's plenty more that needs to go.” She said, then her eyes went to two males getting too rough at a table, “I gotta go sort that out, safe drinking!”

Tamlin laughed as he watched her brace a hand on the counter and swing herself over. Running to separate the two.

As Tamlin turned around, he saw Lucien pick up the small glass, the clear liquor staring up at him. He knocked it back and winced as he did. But quickly took up the next. Tamlin grabbed his own before Lucien got too carried away.

They said nothing as they waited for Laurel to be done dealing with the bastards fighting. She hopped back over the counter and wordlessly poured them more, before getting back to her own job, the next three were gone in a moment and this time Tamlin took two shots and Lucien one.

Slowly, the bar began to quiet down. Turning to a buzz around them as the alcohol began to take effect. Laurel had scared the shit out of the noisiest of the lot, so everyone began to return to their own drinking and hiding in the corners away from her cunning eyes for a quick handjob.

“So…” Tamlin started, he knew they needed to talk, but he didn’t know how to approach it.

“Let’s play a drinking game.” Lucien stated, Tamlin blinked.

Slowly, the blond breathed out, “Okay, what’s the game?”

Lucien lifted his empty shot glass to grab Laurel’s eye, and waited until she poured another three before disappearing again.

“We talk about this.” He said, “And anytime one of us lies, sugarcoats it, or otherwise tries to hide what we think. You have to take a shot.”

This was dangerous. This was so, so dangerous.

But if they didn’t do something, Tamlin was going to lose him forever anyway, so.

Fuck it.

“Okay.”

“Good, I’ll go first. I hate that I ever met you.”

Tamlin gritted his teeth, as his eyes gleamed. But it wasn’t hatred that curled in his gut, rather a fire that began to stoke itself up and up.

So that’s how they were to play.

Fine.

“I hate that I ever met you.”

A growl loosened from behind the Day Heir’s teeth, “I hate that I learned to care for you at all.”

“I hate that I loved you enough to take you in.”

Lucien gripped the counter, “I hate that I loved you enough to defend you in front of Amarantha.”

“I hate you for going even though I told you time and time again it was a bad idea. That wouldn’t keep your mouth shut.” Tamlin carved a line in the counter with his claw, leaning back on the stool.

“I hate you for coming after me right before I could finally let you go.” Lucien said, staring into the old chipping wood.

“I hate that I didn’t force you to the continent when Amarantha struck.” Tamlin whispered.

Lucien swallowed, “I would never have gone. And if you forced me it would have made me hate loving you more.”

“We are a tragedy, and it’s all my fault.” Tamlin breathed out.

“No, it’s not.” The redhead told him, “It’s not all your fault.”

“Every scar you have is because of me, I mutilated you.” Tamlin told him.

“No.” As soon as the word slipped from his mouth, Lucien reached over and took a shot. Throwing his head back, the red of his hair all slipped down his back. Throat bobbing as he swallowed. He slammed the glass back onto the counter and wiped his mouth aggressively, “Every scar I have is because of you. And it’s because of how much I fucking love you.”

“I hate you because I can’t fucking hate you!” Tamlin yelled, grinding his teeth together and squeezing his eyes shut so tightly they pulsed with pain.

“Well I hate you because no matter what, I can’t forget who you were to me. You are everything in me. You’re twisted around me, I can’t even look at a fucking tree without thinking of you!” Lucien stood up to look at him.

“I hate there was nothing I could do.” A tear spilled down over Tamlin’s face, “I hate that no matter what, no matter who tells the story, there were so many times where there was nothing else I could do. I already begged Amarantha to spare you, I already tried to get you away from your brothers. I couldn’t stop what she did to your eye.”

Lucien whispered, “I hate that I couldn’t make it all stop. I hate that I couldn’t help you.”

“I hate that I made it so hard for you.” Tamlin murmured back, “I hate that in the end you even stopped yelling at me. You used to do that everyday.”

For once, a smile slipped over Lucien’s face. One pure and real and genuine.

“We haven’t lost it all.” Lucien said, sitting back down, “We aren’t all gone.”

“What else can we do?” Tamlin asked.

Lucien didn’t respond as he took another shot. Tamlin followed suit. As he did his head spun and the light in his eyes swam.

Then he felt a pair of hot hands on his shoulders, making him turn to face Lucien. The male seemed closer than before. As if he had moved his chair across to be nearer.

“I remember your hair.” Lucien whispered into the space between them, “I remember how much you liked me brushing it, or braiding it, or weaving flowers into it.”

He was silent then, as his index finger lifted to curl a fallen lock of blond strands around it.

“I remember your skin.” Tamlin told him, “I remember each and every mark and freckle. And how you shiver when I run my finger down your neck like this.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the longing for his friend back, or even the repressed sexual need. Perhaps all three. Either way, Tamlin boldly moved his hand, trailing his fingers down from Lucien’s jaw, over the sensitive flesh of his dark throat, as expected, as he touched, Lucien shuddered. His soft, supple skin prickling underneath his fingertips.

Tamlin stopped at the edge of his collar. Then let his hand fall away, before he rasped, “I remember that night right here, when I took you on the counter and we got thrown out because of it.”

Lucien’s breath was sucked from him, as his pretty face, all flushed pink from alcohol. Darkening in colour as he too remembered that night.

Because Lucien was the male Tamlin sucked off that night. Too many drinks in, laughing and grabbing at each other. Getting hot and riled up. Lucien’s hot hands had slid over his shirt, eventually finding underneath the fabric. Tamlin’s mouth pressed into his neck, and large hands went up and down his thighs. Both had come to some kind of agreement not long before, that they explore the parts of them they had never been able to before. The parts that made them stare a little too long at the training sentries, the parts they had been told time and time again to hide in shame.

Then, they had gone further in their explorations than ever before. Lucien’s hands found his chest and started groping him while whispering every dirty thought that went through his pretty head. And Tamlin lost his mind.

In a haze of what must have been stupidity, drunkenness and pure lust. He pushed Lucien back onto the bartop, Lucien’s nimble fingers had unlaced his trousers in a second to spare them from being ripped by Tamlin’s claws.

Tamlin’s body, running entirely on lust, had moved quicker than his thoughts. His head had gone down, and before he could even process his own actions, silky skin pierced his lips and flooded his mouth. Filling his throat as his eyes had rolled back. Lucien’s head had thrown back, moaning as he grabbed Tamlin’s hair and fucked up into his mouth.

After being thrown out, they hadn’t talked of that day again, but Tamlin had never forgotten it. And from the wide-eyed look on Lucien’s face, he hadn’t forgotten it either.

“Tamlin.” Lucien released his breath so carefully slow. Holding onto his control as much as he could.

“Yes?” Tamlin ducked his head, pressing his lips to the same spot he had all those decades ago.

“Mm, fuck.” Lucien bit his lip as his head tipped to the side.

This was so dangerous. They shouldn’t be doing this. After everything that had gone down they shouldn’t be doing this.

It just made Tamlin want it more.

He pressed a gentle kiss to Lucien’s skin. Before his tongue darted out and drew a line up to his jaw, before he bit into his skin. A sudden noise left Lucien’s throat, and those hot fucking hands moved. Lucien pulled Tamlin’s shirt out of his pants and immediately went under. Sliding up his skin and finding his nipples. Rolling the stiff buds between his fingers, pinching roughly. Tamlin groaned into his neck and bit down on the fleshy part of his neck and shoulder, harder than he meant too. Causing Lucien to squeeze his eyes shut as he suddenly jolted and moaned.

One of his hands started groping Tamlin, while the other tugged his hard nipple. Leaning close to Tamlin’s ear, he whispered, “I remember how you moaned like a bitch when I did this.”

Suddenly, Lucien bit the tip of Tamlin’s very, very sensitive ear, and the blond Faery cried out. Trying to muffle himself on Lucien's shoulder. His hands went to Lucien’s thick thighs and started squeezing the hard muscles there. As he mouthed at his neck.

Lucien licked up and down along the point of his ear, teasing the skin with his talented tongue. All the while his fucking fingers played with his nipples, hands occasionally swapping sides, one to grope, one to toy with the buds.

“I hate how fucking hot you are.” Lucien breathed out.

“That’s a lie.” Tamlin pointed out with a grin, “Take a shot.”

Lucien leaned back a little, regarding Tamlin with a fox’s smile, “Wicked.”

“Not as much as you.” Tamlin replied.

Lucien licked his lips, as he slid his hands out. Making Tamlin shiver at the loss of contact. Moving to quickly lean over the counter, he snatched the bottle of alcohol from where Laurel had briefly left it to deal with another rowdy crowd. Lucien poured himself a shot. Then slowly brought it to his lips. Watching Tamlin over the rim as he took the liquor in his mouth, and swallowed. His pretty throat bobbing up and down as the contents of his glass were drained away.

The fox kept his eye contact as he put the glass down, the second his fingers were away from it. Tamlin was on him.

Pushing off his own seat, he practically climbed into Lucien’s lap in his desperation to get those hot lips on his own. Grabbing his face, their mouths met. Both moaned into each other. Lucien grabbed the back of Tamlin’s head with one hand, then slipped his other back up his shirt. At the same time he started pinching and groping again, he pulled the High lord’s hair hard.

Tamlin whimpered into Lucien’s mouth, as he slipped Lucien his tongue. Causing the male to groan and pull his hair harder, the flowers falling out as his braid came undone.

His hair had grown wildly longer since they had last been together. As it untangled it fell down to his thighs. Lucien smiled against him as he slipped his hand underneath all that hair and held onto the base of Tamlin’s neck.

Tamlin grabbed a fistful of pretty red hair, desperately needing something to hold onto, to anchor himself. Biting down on Lucien’s bottom lip, then sucking the flesh.

As his skin grew hotter and hotter he felt something hard pressing against his own growing bulge. Tamlin moaned as he started grinding his covered cock against Lucien’s. Making the younger hiss as he held Tanlin tighter, pushing them harder together.

They pulled back enough that both could catch a breath, Tamlin breathed out, half-dazed and barely able to form a coherent thought except for one, “Fuck me.”

“Fuck yes.” Lucien said quickly.

“Get. Out.” Tamlin and Lucien were quickly torn from their lust induced trance as they snapped their gaze around to see Laurel glaring so horribly at them.

Tamlin was half about to ignore her, when Lucien grabbed the back of his thighs, and lifted him off the chair as he stood. Tamlin quickly wrapped his arms around the back of his neck, and Lucien shouted an apology as they both stumbled out to the entrance.

Lucien was strong, strong enough to give Tamlin a good fight, and it seemed he had only gotten stronger. Of course, Tamlin also knew he was a lot lighter, having been living off of scraps every couple of days for two years.

Getting out into the darkness, the warmth of Summer was sticky all around them, despite the sun having gone down at least an hour ago.

Tamlin grabbed Lucien’s hair, kissing him sloppily as they both grinded and panted against each other, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Lucien forced his mouth away and stared up with glazed eyes. For a moment, their spinning worlds came to a sudden stop as they looked into each other and for the first time in a lot longer than just two years, they truly saw into the other. Saw them for who they were and every broken piece underneath.

Tamlin cupped Lucien’s face with both his hands, at the same time Lucien squeezed his thighs harder.

In that second, in that moment of stillness, Tamlin realised one thing.

They had seen each other at their absolute worst. Broken, destroyed, taken apart and forced to keep going. They had scraped through life by each other’s side for so long. The bond they had ran deeper than just the friendship they showed. It was a deep understanding of what the other had been through, something that no one else in their life understood. Something they all never would.

But they knew. In their small world, Tamlin and Lucien knew. Better than anyone else ever could.

“I’m sorry.” Tamlin whispered, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I know.” Lucien whispered back, before pressing such a sweet and gentle kiss to his lips.

In a second, they were in Summer, and the next rich smells and charged air were filling Tamlin’s lungs once more as they winnowed to Day.

Their lips crashed together once more. And Tamlin moaned as Lucien gently set him down on the floor again. Immediately their hands started roaming, desperate to get underneath each other’s layers.

As Tamlin tried to pull Lucien’s shirt off, considering simply ripping it. Lucien grabbed both his wrists and held them together as he dragged him back into his bedroom.

Tamlin barely got time to look around. Just noticing the blinds were thrown open, the doors to a balcony open, allowing in the soft night breeze. The bed was covered in a myriad of soft pillows, red and gold silks. Then Lucien was shoving him back onto the bed. Tamlin pulled his wrists free, but Lucien crawled up after him, as Tamlin pulled himself back, until he was amongst the pillows.

Lucien pushed himself on top of Tamlin. Both thighs bracketed around his own. The Heir of Day, then grabbed both Tamlin’s wrists and pinned them above his head. Tamlin squirmed at the restraint but Lucien whispered, “Be a good boy and stay still.”

“Fuck, Lucien-”

“Wanna get fucked tonight?” He asked with a cruel tint to his voice, “Stay still.”

Tamlin huffed, blowing out his cheeks, but obeying and keeping his hands above his head. Lucien smiled, looking down at Tamlin like he was proud, “Good boy.”

“Fuck,” Tamlin said, whole body turning red as arousal shot through his body like poison.

Lucien’s hands left Tamlin’s, and the area was left feeling cold, which Tamlin fought to not whine over. Before his attention was quickly captured by something else.

Lucien’s hands went to his belt, quickly undoing it and pulling out the leather. Then he leaned back over Tamlin and grabbed his wrists once more. In a few seconds, he skillfully locked Tamlin’s wrists together. Tamlin couldn’t help the whine that left his throat when he felt the leather tighten on his skin.

“Good boy.” Lucien whispered again, sitting back as he looked down at Tamlin. Restrained, flushed and panting.

“Are you just going to sit there all night?” Tamlin taunted, “Or are you going to do something?”

Lucien laughed, “Oh really? You want me to do something Tam?”

Frustration welled in Tamlin’s chest and at the same time his heart leapt at the familiarity in the nickname, “Yes, god, please.”

A grin curled on Lucien’s face as he then snapped his fingers, and in a second the rumpled dishevelled clothes plastered to Tamlin’s skin were reduced to ash from flames. It didn’t hurt in the slightest, only a light tingle of sudden warmth danced across his body.

Now completely open and exposed to the midnight chill. Tamlin’s skin prickled, as his nipples began to ache from lack of attention, and at the same time blood rushed down and his cock began to throb in time with his heartbeat. Even still, he tried to not move as Lucien observed him.

Amber eyes dark in the minimal light. Lucien slid his tongue over his lips before he moved one hand up. His fingers circling Tamlin’s left nipple, making Tamlin squeeze his eyes shut, and bite down on his tongue.

“So pretty,” Lucien breathed, as those damning fingers pinched the bud. Rolling it gently.

Tamlin couldn’t stop as his back arched. Eyes rolling back at receiving the attention he so desperately craved, he moaned as his mouth fell open.

“And responsive.” Lucien noted, watching like a predator.

“Fucking… Mother dammit.” Tamlin managed to say, even as he was losing himself to each and every touch.

All of a sudden, Lucien took away his hand and it took Tamlin biting his inner cheek hard enough he nearly drew blood to not whine.

“Alright, I’ve had my fun, I’ll fuck you now.” Lucien announced as he reached over to a nearby nightstand.

“Finally.” Tamlin said, head pushing back into the pillow behind him.

Lucien opened the first drawer, and reached in, pulling out a clear glass cork top bottle of thick oil. He moved and sat back on his heels as he easily opened the bottle.

“Spread your legs,” He ordered as he poured out the thick liquid onto his fingers.

Tamlin was quick to obey this time. Watching with poorly contained excitement as Lucien put the bottle back on the nightstand and slipped his fingers between his open thighs. Pressing one digit against his hole, Tamlin sucked in a harsh breath that followed Lucien murmuring, “Good boy, you’re doing so well.”

Tamlin cursed under his breath again, body beginning to throb as fire climbed higher and higher in his core. Lucien pushed his finger in further, gently exploring, as Tamlin wrapped his legs around his waist. Needing to hold onto him in some way.

Clicking his tongue in disapproval, Lucien grabbed one of his thighs and forcefully spread his legs open, keeping them wide set as he smoothly thrusted his finger in and out.

“You can take a little more.” Lucien whispered into the darkness between them. The words were nearly lost to Tamlin, his mind altered by pleasure and alcohol.

Lucien pressed another finger inside, working it in slowly, until he was thrusting his two fingers in and out. Followed by three, working quicker and quicker as his own desperation built.

Tamlin was a moaning mess below him, gasping for breath, and moving his hips as Lucien spread his fingers, the searing stretch making his hips jut up and his back arch.

“Fuck, Lucien.” Tamlin moaned.

“So fucking tight.” Lucien mumbled, seemingly lost in a daze, Tamlin didn’t know whether he was talking to him or to himself.

Either way, Tamlin felt himself go redder as that fire built. Then Lucien twisted and curled his fingers and brushed some spot inside him that made his toes curl as he cried out. Pulling at his restraints, he bucked back against Lucien’s fingers, desperate for him to hit that spot again.

Leaning down over him, Lucien pressed his lips to Tamlin’s. The blond males/’s eyes went wide, his tension causing Lucien to quickly back track, but before he could get too far away. Tamlin wrapped his arms around his neck and crashed their lips together again. Laughing into his mouth, Lucien snaked the hand not fingering Tamlin open, around to the back of his neck. Holding onto him tightly.

Eventually Tamlin got impatient. As they pulled away to gasp for breath, a string of saliva connecting their lips, he said, “Hurry up.”

Lucien, dazed, flushed and panting, just nodded. Falling to the same need crashing over them. Pleasure pulsed in hot waves through both their bodies, rolling through their cores as Lucien finally dragged his trousers over his hips. Grabbing both of Tamlin’s knees he pushed them up until he was able to push the tip of his hard, weeping cock to the High lord’s slickened entrance.

The red head crashed over Tamlin again, kissing him desperately as he sank in. Wrapped in each other, limbs like knots. Kissing, sucking and moaning. Tamlin arched up, and Lucien wrapped his arms around his back, pressing them together. Sliding in until he bottomed out. They remained still for a moment, catching their breath as Tamlin adjusted to the feel.

His chest rising and falling rapidly, Tamlin felt the strands of Lucien’s scarlet hair tickle his throat as he looked up. Opening his green eyes, Tamlin looked up to see Lucien not looking down at him but rather at the open window.

“What are you-” Tamlin turned his head, and his breath hitched as his eyes went wide.

The balstrode, the doors, climbing into the room like roots stretching out, where dozens of vines of bleeding hearts, flowering pink. Tamlin looked back up at Lucien who had turned to stare at him.

Something wet like warm rain fell down the side of his eye and soaked the sheets below. Lucien whispered something that may have been his name but Tamlin couldn’t hear it properly to know. He just knew that the red head leaned down and pressed their lips together. This kiss wasn’t frantic or heady. Steady and chaste. Though setting his body as fire just as much, if not more.

No words were spoken, Tamlin was glad for it, if he did speak he might break from the thick emotion surrounding them. Clouding his thoughts till they were a jumbled mess of memories and guilt.

He wanted to just.. Float away from his body forever.

Lucien seemed to think something similar, he didn’t even try to open his mouth to talk. But he did press another kiss to his lips. Then to his cheek, then down his neck.

He pulled out just to the tip, then sank back in again. And all at once Tamlin was lost to bliss.

The sun woke him up, warm and rich like golden syrup. It spread over his skin, casting him in the glow. Tamlin blinked against the rays. Shifting slightly as he tucked his foot back under the covers, freezing from being out. He sighed in content into the mass of chest his face was buried in. His arms around Lucien’s waist, and his around Tamlin’s back.

Head rolling back, Tamlin started to untangle their legs carefully to stretch out the sore muscles. In the jostling somewhere, Lucien awoke. Tamlin watched as the male slowly came back to consciousness, amber eyes dimmed from sleep but growing brighter as the sun came up. The gold turning to something like liquid sunlight. Tamlin half smiled at the sight, for a moment basking in the glory of waking up like this. No matter how dirty the sheets were and how messy their skin was. This didn’t compare to anything.

“Morning.” Tamlin rasped, his throat a little sore. All at once a headache popped in his skull and he groaned. It wasn’t too bad, but enough that he wanted a tonic for it.

“Morning.” Lucien repeated. Pulling himself away from Tamlin, who nearly whined at the loss.

Sitting up on the bed, propping himself against the headboard, Lucien looked down at Tamlin, “We going to talk about this?”

“What’s there to talk about?” Tamlin replied, half-dismissively.

Lucien just raised an eyebrow and Tamlin folded.

“I don’t want to lose you.” The golden male admitted, “it’s been torment not having you there at all.”

“You never lost me, Tam.” Lucien told him, “Never.”

“I fucked us up though.” He said.

Luien shrugged, “A lot of what happened was circumstance and… other’s actions. But yeah, you did fuck a lot up.”

They sat in silence for a moment, Tamlin asked, “What do I need to do to get you back?”

Lucien smiled at the sheets over his lap, “Look at us Tam, you have me back.”

“I don’t deserve it though.”

“We both don’t deserve a lot. Besides,” Lucien looked over to the High lord, “You’ve more than paid the price. What other rock bottom could I ask you to hit?”

Shuffling up, Tamlin leaned against the headboard. Staring at the opposite wall.

“There’s a lot of shit both of us need to deal with, Tam. We don’t have to get it all done in one morning.” Lucien reminded him.

“I wish we could. I wish I could.” He whispered.

Lucien reached out, his fingers brushing over Tamlin’s knuckles, before tangling their fingers together, “But we can’t, so we'll take it all one step at a time.”

Tamlin closed his eyes as he smiled, “One step at a time.”

Lucien hummed and rested his head on Tamlin’s shoulder.

In that sacred, holy moment, something heavy and hateful just seemed to… disappear. Like all it took to get rid of it was the words they exchanged.

Tamlin knew it was deeper than that. That last night they had reverted back to who they were before all this, just for a moment. He knew more than anyone they couldn’t live off that high forever. He had tried that with Feyre, and now look where it got him.

His free hand moved to gently thread through waves of crimson.

He’d take advantage of this, they’d both been living off of the high of pleasure for far too long. Now they would build something stronger than ever before, something that would withstand the test of time, magical bonds, evil Queen and Kings.

They’d make something built off of love. Not from hedonistic highs.

“Bleeding hearts right?” Lucien murmured.

“Hm?” Tamlin questioned, then Lucien pointed him once more in the direction of those flowering plants.

Tamlin groaned and flopped down, causing Lucien to fall atop him. They both laughed suddenly. Lucien giggled, burying his face into Tamlin’s shoulder.

Tamlin threw an arm over his eyes so he didn’t have to look at Lucien’s face.

“What do they mean again?” Lucien mockingly questioned, “Wasn’t it… passionate love, and romance?”

Tamlin rolled his eyes, but moved them so Lucien’s head was laying on his bicep. And Tamlin’s fingers threaded through his hair once more, “Yes, and it can mean unrequited love and a broken heart.”

Lucien’s teasing smirk faded away into something like awe, his eyes beginning to line with tears. Tamlin smiled softly, his thumb reaching out to brush them away from his eyes.

His fingers shinny with the drops, Tamlin held his hand between them, and whispered, “Then there’s camellias for love, adoration, longing, devotion and care.”

As he whispered the words, a pretty, perfect, pink camellia flower grew from the palm of his hand. Lucien’s eyes went wide with wonder, once again filling with tears that dripped down his face and onto the petals of the new bloom.

Tamlin leaned over and brushed a kiss to his forehead, “I will try, I promise.”

“I love you.” Lucien whispered.

“I love you.” Tamlin whispered back. As Lucien wrapped his hands around Tamlin’s holding the camellia and pressed their mouth together.

Like young blooms in spring, unfurling the cold, misty mornings. Something rich and golden. Filled with immeasurable hedonistic pleasure, filled them both to the brim, spilling over like the wine of a glass. It ran over them like roots and vines held desperately to what they clung too. Like new plants finding their way into life.

A perfect melding of hearts intertwined. Heavy, rich and luscious, with young, airy and abloom.

Something so opposite, yet sliding together so easily.

The mating bond did not ‘snap’ as the many stories went. It bloomed.

@tamlinweek

#acotar #pro tamlin #tamlin #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #tamcien #tamlin x lucien vanserra #acotar au #acotar headcanons #tamlinweek2024 #tamlinweek

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thatgirl4815 · 7 months

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Loved these tags from @fromthedepthsandbeyond on this ask so wanted to use them as a jumping off point for a discussion about Sand in Ep7. (I hope you don't mind.)

Sand as a 'pathetic' character

I've seen quite a few folks on Twitter up in arms about how pathetic the narrative is painting Sand to be which, in my mind, is all relative. Because if we're comparing him to Nick, then Sand seems to have quite a bit of self-respect. But all these comments got me thinking how Sand does have self respect in so many aspects of his life; aside from Ray, he would seem to have everything put together. And Ray is the one thing he can't reconcile with his lifestyle, the one thing that doesn't fit. Up 'til now, he's allowed that.

Also got me thinking about this discussion I had with @waitmyturtles last episode regarding the woobification of certain characters. Looking back, I wonder if having Sand finally act out in Ep6 was all leading up to this moment, as Sand's revenge on Top quite literally is a major catalyst in bringing Ray and Mew together. After getting revenge on someone he thinks deserves to be punished, Sand is also being punished too. In some way, I wonder if that is a commentary on the cyclical nature of vengeance--how no matter how justified you are in your payback, you will pay for it too.

Regrets

What is Sand's personal plot? Clearly it's all tied up in Ray. But what do Sand's ties to Ray say about him? It says he's a natural caretaker, likely due to his upbringing, but it also says that caretaking plays a major role in his self-concept. What Sand is learning is that he does not demand exclusivity in his caretaking role--though he might want that, he hasn't demanded it from Ray, because he doesn't think he has a right to do that. Sand has a very acute awareness of morals and what is within his own bounds to demand. In this case, I think it goes back to what First said about Sand handling his emotions on his own; Sand wants Ray to care for him only, but he knows that's not a requirement of their relationship. Ray, on the other hand, demands Sand's sole attention, even though he doesn't deserve it. Despite Sand being burned near-constantly by Ray, he is the one who still feels like he can't demand things of Ray because of the pre-set terms of their relationship.

It also makes me curious...for all the pain it has caused him, how much does Sand regret getting his revenge on Top? Was it worth it? Because if he truly loves Ray, then we would assume that he does harbor regrets. (Which brings me to another question: Does Sand truly love Ray? What stage of infatuation is Sand at right now?) Looking morally, Sand likely thinks he was doing the right thing for exposing Top as a cheater, regardless of the consequences. But knowing if he has regrets about this could be a major clue in to just how down bad he is for Ray.

One of the reasons I'm loving this show so much (despite that crapshoot of a part 4/4 in Ep7, ugh) is because it's putting characters like Sand, who aren't even center stage, in an uncomfortable position. Sand has to confront his own values by pitting his morals and his feelings against each other. Going back to Ep3, is Ray 'just an exception'? Or has this kind of value-bending happened to Sand before?

And, in going back to the tags, is Sand going to change because of Ray? Personally, I think the Joker/Harley Quinn dynamic between Ray and Mew suggests that they will be making major changes for each other, which could stand in direct contrast to Sand. Ray is satisfied that he has finally gotten Mew to adapt to his lifestyle and be with him the way he wants, so why won't Sand give in too? Why won't Sand remain the person Ray wants him to be (as in: someone who drops everything the moment he calls)? Why can't Ray be in control of the people in his life the way he can't be in control of himself?

#only friends #only friends the series #ofts #sandray #raysand #sand x ray #ray x sand #only frieinds meta #sanray #raysan #only friends episode 7 #only friends sand #only friends ray #ray pakorn #only friends analysis

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rosethornewrites · 8 months

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Possibly unpopular opinion…

Both Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are flawed people for a variety of reasons, and their mutual inability to talk about their emotions is what leads them to continually miscommunicate and (in jc’s case) lash out. It’s also when keeps them from reconciling within the canon.

Wei Wuxian’s untamed nature and quest to act on the side of justice and protect the weak even if it means challenging the jianghu hegemony has a downside.

Jiang Cheng’s tendency to listen to rumors (thanks, Yu Ziyuan) and try to maneuver within the jianghu hegemony instead of challenging it has a downside.

Both characters were socialized in such a way that made their breaking apart inevitable. The only thing keeping them together was Jiang Yanli.

Both of their actions/inactions led to the deaths of Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian, and the latter’s impossible return doesn’t magically fix the loss of the former or the issues that existed before.

It’s possible to appreciate the nuances within both characters. We don’t have to hate one to like the other.

I’m seeing a lot of angry posts about pro/anti, and I just don’t see the text in this way, though it’s certainly possible to explore this in fanfiction in different ways.

#the untamed #mo dao zu shi #wei wuxian #wei ying #jiang wanyin #jiang cheng #mdzs #cql #chen qing ling #jiang yanli #yunmeng shuangjie #yunmeng trio

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princess-of-the-corner · 5 months

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Marinette being a protagonist with black-and-white thinking and low empathy high sympathy could have been interesting if they had her learn and grow from it instead of saying she's been right all along and barely giving her a slap on the wrist for the times she was being a jerk

YEAH IT'S

It's so fascinating because it's very. It's very realistic. I brought this point up with Chloé before but it also applies to Marinette where like.

She is a child who grew up believing certain things because that's what her parents taught her. And while in Mari's case her parents are teaching her /good/ things, she hasn't fully experienced the shades of gray that exist.

So a lot of her friends actions and even her own actions get excused in her mind because they're good people trying their best. Meanwhile someone 'bad' like Chloé can't do 'good' things without it having to be some kind of trick or secretly bad. She must be using Sabrina, she only thinks of Adrien as a trophy, etc.

And while Chloé is a complicated situation of being cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. She does bad things and good things and is hard to read.

But then we have Kagami!

Kagami is entirely innocuous! She isn't rude to Marinette, or anyone else! She's not a bully! She can be a touch arrogant and strong-headed, but she is very quick to admit and remedy her mistakes when she does so. Her only 'crime' is liking Adrien. But Marinette likes Adrien, and Marinette and Adrien are Good People™ in True Love™ so Kagami must be a Bad Person™ because she's trying to get between them! Since she's a Bad Person™, it's okay for the Good Person™ to stop their Evil Deeds™. When, in reality, Kagami is a nice-but-not-sugary-sweet person who was considered a cold bitch because Marinette was petty and jealous.

Zoé is the opposite example!

Marinette's first encounter with Zoé just involves Zoé buying pastries and not acting like a total bitch. So even though she shows up the next day as Chloé's half-sister who is just as mean as she is, Marinette goes 'oh but she was able to be nice to me once! Surely the nice is her real personality and this is just an act she feels she has to put on because of her shitty family!'. She happens to be right this time, but she has no proof that Zoé is 'good' other than one instance of not being a dick when there's probably plenty of times where Chloé has managed to purchase something without going full Karen-mode on a cashier.

Hell! Let's swing over to Adrien! Marinette 100% judged him and assumed he was Chloé 2.0 even though he was very obviously trying to clean off her seat and apologize then. He had to practically beg for forgiveness and then it's a 180 flip where 'oh he must be so perfect!'.

And yeah if Marinette ever really learned anything from these interactions..... The closest we get is the Adrien thing where it just flips Bad to Good, and the Kagami thing she feels bad about for like .5 seconds but never /really/ reconciles and becomes Kagami's friend until after the Adrigami breakup. (She might start at the end of Ikari Gozen, but she's still down to sabotage her in Heart Hunter so.)

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adjit · 11 months

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So what really happened in Red Robin between Dick and Tim?

Because I am constantly seeing misrepresentations of it, I want to talk about the actual events of Red Robin, and Dick and Tim's relationship during it. It's a favorite storyline for fandom to use and riff on, and so for people who haven't read the source, it's hard to know what is canon and what is fanon.

Honestly? It might be easier to just go read the issues. The majority of what I'm going to discuss here all happens in the first 4 issues of Red Robin (though I cover some stuff through the first 12), and I enjoyed that entire run, but if you'd rather hear a random internet user tell ya their take on it, read on.

This is going under a cut because it's long. But TLDR? Dick is not the bad guy in this situation. No one is the bad guy in this situation. If we had to name one... poor coping skills? And though they do fight, they ultimately reconcile because Tim and Dick are brothers who love each other.

Damian

First things first, let's talk about Damian. Did Dick give Robin to Damian without even informing Tim, so Tim had to find out by Damian showing up in the Robin costume? Not exactly.

So, some technicalities. Damian had worn the costume before the infamous Batcave scene. In Batman: Battle for the Cowl #3, he's given it by Alfred and goes with Squire to save Tim. So, not only has Damian worn the costume before, Tim has seen it.

However, arguably this is also before Dick has accepted the mantle, so the scene in the cave is still notable as it is Dick specifically informing Tim that Damian will be his Robin. And Tim had also worn the costume out for a one-time rescue months before he officially became Robin (also enabled by Alfred), so I'm still of the idea that the cave scene is The Scene about the Robin mantle being passed down.

That being the case, I'm still going to defend Dick anyway.

Firstly, he told Tim before Damian showed up. But it's true that he didn't give Tim a choice, and that Tim was NOT okay with it.

Damian shows up and talks some shit, Tim punches him in the face, and then storms out.

Overall, it went pretty terribly! But I'm of the opinion that there was no good ending here. Damian needs the family connection that the mantle of Robin would give him in order to feel accepted, not to mention the close supervision that the duo of Batman and Robin would provide. But Tim is extremely attached to Robin 14 years after this comic and he still hasn't given it up and would never be happy being asked to give it up, especially when he's already lost so many things. One of them was going to end up unhappy. (Fwiw, I'm of the opinion that Dick is right, and Damian needs Robin a lot more than Tim does. But that doesn't mean that that decision wouldn't hurt Tim, too.)

Arguably, Dick could have been a bit nicer when doing this, but let's be fair to Dick: his father figure has just died, and suddenly he has to be Batman, and he now has a young child he is partly in charge of. That's a lot to be dumped on his lap, not to mention that he didn't want to be Batman (he initially refused despite Bruce's wishes, and only took it on after basically being forced to after Jason tried to take on the mantle, killed a bunch of people, and injured both Damian and Tim), and said child is a highly traumatized child who is still in the process of basically cult de-conditioning! So Tim could also be asked to be a lot more understanding than he's being. But Tim's too wrapped up in his own grief to see that. Just like Dick's too wrapped up in his own issues to properly deal with Tim.

He has a lot of shit going on and he can't juggle it all. Tim is coping incredibly poorly with his own circumstances. They clash and neither comes out happy. It sucked. But to say that Dick is the bad guy here... He made the best decision he could when given no right options. I do think that he made a mistake here in his approach, but to call his entire relationship with Tim into question due to it... doesn't make as much sense to me (especially because of the events which follow!)

Self-isolation

So, did everyone abandon Tim? Did his family forget him and leave him out to dry?

Absolutely not. The opposite, really. Tim pushed everyone away, despite them repeatedly reaching out to him.

One thing to note about Tim here is that he is self-isolating extremely hard. Even after their argument about Robin, Dick keeps trying to reach out to Tim. Tim pushes him away. Tim pushes everyone away. And this is not even subtle- it's shown in the text very clearly.

Multiple people try to talk to Tim, and Tim absolutely refuses them.

Tim is pissed even at the idea that Dick might be checking up on him. And Tim and Steph's relationship is super rocky right now, and he takes her concern for him poorly. Part of that can be attributed to an ongoing fight between them, a lack of trust implicit there, but combined with everything else it's also clearly Tim pushing away all of his lifelines.

Cassie also comes to try to check on him- after he dodges her attempts to contact him, she flies all the way to Gotham. But when told that a man who everyone knows as dead, and whose body was recovered and buried, is still alive, she doesn't believe him. (And considering Cassie has already dealt with Tim's grief regarding Conner and his suuuuuper rational reaction there, one might understand even more why she doesn't believe him right away.) And Tim immediately pushes her away for it. He doesn't try to give her any explanation, doesn't respond to her concern, he just immediately cuts the cord.

(And just a note that when Cassie doesn't know who else to turn to about Tim? She turns to Dick! Because she knows how important Dick is to Tim. And yes, right now Tim is mad at Dick and resents that Steph and Cassie go to him, but that doesn't change the fact that when people think about caring for Tim, Dick is the first person they go to.)

Dick and Tim's argument

Did Dick refuse to believe Tim, despite Tim having evidence, call him crazy and threaten to throw him in Arkham? NOPE.

That is entirely fanon. And one of the more pervasive, and annoying, misrepresentations of Dick's character, as it causes people to talk shit about him.

So. What actually happened? (We're getting into full pages here because I am not letting anyone get this conversation twisted.)

Dick shows up and speaks to Tim compassionately, though decisively, about the fact that Bruce is dead and they need to learn to move on and deal with that grief in a healthy manner. He then offers help to Tim once more, and is rejected, Tim instead opting to start a fight in classic emotionally-repressed Bat tradition. (Which, sidenote, do you think they do this just so that panels during a long conversation are more dynamic instead of two people standing there talking to each other?)

Tim pleads his case to Dick....to an extent. Notice, however, that he never mentions that he has any reason to believe what he does. Doesn't even try to convince Dick to believe him, really. Just insists that he's right after he makes a good case on why he does in fact sound crazy.

And then, Dick offers help. He suggests that Tim talk to a therapist. This person is, notably, NOT ARKHAM ASYLUM. Isn't even secretly Arkham, because they're in Metropolis!

And, frankly, the idea that someone suggesting therapy to his brother who is dealing poorly with grief has been equated to "calling him crazy and trying to get him thrown in jail/committed" is absolutely bonkers to me. I know that it's more likely that someone escalated the stakes for drama in their fanfic or something, and for some reason that's the version that circulated, but from here to there is a LEAP. And for people to claim it's canon is frustrating to say the least.

And finally. Tim tells Dick to let him leave. And Dick does. Dick stops trying to stop Tim, and lets him go. He trusts in Tim enough to let him do what he thinks is right, even if Dick himself disagrees. He does it because Tim asks him to.

Is it a mistake? Maybe. Does it make Tim forgive Dick for choosing Damian as his Robin? Definitely not. But it's very clearly not because he doesn't care, not because he's too busy to pay attention to Tim. It's an act of respect, of treating Tim as an equal who is capable of making his own decisions. In that way, it's showing his trust to Tim.

I have an entirely separate post on the subject of why Dick not believing Tim is narratively supported to make later (EDIT: posted here!), so I'm gonna go on a little Tim rant here instead. Because this post isn't long enough.

During this time, Tim is consistently begging for people to believe in him, while also refusing to play all his cards. The picture that started his hunch is never brought up. Frankly, I'm not sure that even if he did show it to everyone that people would believe him, but I think it's telling that he doesn't.

First, I kind of see it as Tim engaging in a "relationship test". They're the kind of thing that only people who are deeply insecure or in a bad place think to do- if I stop talking to all my friends, how long will it take people to notice? Who's going to notice that I'm upset without me saying anything, who really cares about me? If I share an insane theory, who is going to believe me point blank?

They're the kind of thing that is....not healthy in any way, shape, or form, and really aren't fair to the people you're testing. Sure, someone "passing" the test may show that they care for you (and, ultimately, the only person who believes Tim without reservation is Kon, once he comes back- and that unquestioning belief and loyalty is meaningful), but "failing" the test doesn't mean that they don't care. And they're ultimately a sort of self-sabotage, because you know that most people are going to fail because you know the test is unfair.

And that's exactly what it is: self-sabotage. As previously mentioned, Tim is massively self-isolating during this part of the arc, and pushing people away because they "don't believe him" is just one facet of that self-isolation. But he also doesn't try to get them to believe him, doesn't even give them that chance, because his ultimate goal is not to actually get anyone on his side, but to push everyone away. That's not to say that he secretly doesn't want people to believe him, but... he's acting mostly irrationally. He wants people to believe him but won't let them close enough to meaningfully give them the chance to do so.

Second, as much as Tim says that he's positive he's right and he's going to prove it, he's straight up lying, and he's actually not that sure at this point. And he's probably terrified that if he does show his proof, that someone will see it and still not believe him, and he'll have to face the fact that his only piece of evidence is extremely flimsy and that his conviction is based much more on grief than it actually is on logic.

So. Yeah, no one believes him. And that does suck, and it's a hit to him. But he didn't exactly give them a chance. He's preemptively cutting people out before they have a chance to hurt him or point out where he's wrong.

Tim is still a pitiable character here. He's a disaster and a wet puddle of a man who is living through the worst time in his entire life. But he's not a poor victim, scorned by his family and the world at large, thought to be crazy for no reason at all! Instead, he's (much more interestingly, imo) a kid dealing with his grief incredibly poorly, self-isolating and refusing every outstretched hand, clinging desperately on to his last hope that maybe his world hasn't changed as much as it seems like it has.

Blackest Night

Blackest Night is a huge crossover event that happened during the Red Robin run; technically speaking, you can skip it without missing anything in the plot of Red Robin, but it does have some good moments that highlight Tim's mental state and his relationship with Dick.

So, Tim leaves Gotham, but when Black Lantern Rings start bringing a bunch of people back from the dead in the form of zombies, including Dick and Tim's parents, Dick calls him back to Gotham. And Tim, looking at the decaying zombie corpse of his parents, is also arguing that he can save them.

When faced with an evil zombie that is trying to kill him, Tim still says "I can still fix this, I can save him". And Dick, as compassionately as ever, tries to talk sense into him. It's the exact same situation as with Bruce, but this time Tim is absolutely wrong.

And with this situation as a parallel, I think it's a lot clearer how unreasonable Tim's mental state is. He might seem like he's just a misunderstood genius in Bruce's case because he happened to be right, but the fact of the matter is, he's not thinking clearly. And he'd cling onto the same hopes even when he's wrong. With Bruce's case, he got lucky.

Also! This panel.

Even with all of this between them, Tim still answers Dick that he trusts him, with no hesitation. Of course.

Reconciliation

So, does Tim come back to Gotham, replaced and forgotten, and become isolated from the rest of the Bats?

Nope! There is, actually, a reconciliation of sorts between Dick and Tim. Admittedly, there is no scene where Dick outright says he's sorry, and Tim says he forgives him. But in my reading, there are interactions that serve a similar purpose, if you read between the lines.

After Tim finds proof of what's been going on with Batman, had a whole thing with the League and the Council of Spiders, and blown up a bunch of League bases, he returns to Gotham where Ra's is enacting a plan to get revenge for Tim acting against him: destroying Batman's legacy. Everything he loved and everything he built is in the crosshairs.

And when he's trying to figure out what Ra's is planning, he meets back up with Dick.

Tim is spewing crazy theories, and with absolutely no proof or explanation, he turns to Dick and asks him to trust him. And this time, Dick tells him, Of course. The fraction between them that preceded Tim's departure from Gotham is repeated, and this time Dick tells Tim he trusts him, and asks what he can do to help.

(This time, Dick does call Tim crazy, while he's muttering to himself. And then he chooses to trust him anyway.)

Granted, this is not an actual apology. But it feels like a second chance. One more bid for connection, and this time Dick meets him in the middle and reciprocates.

Anyway, since when do siblings actually verbally say "I'm sorry"?

And then... quick summary, in case you want the real details for the following events:

Ra's sends assassins after all the people Batman cares about to distract Tim from the fact that he's getting Hush (who is impersonating Bruce Wayne) to sign over Wayne Enterprises. But Tim wins because he finally stops self-isolating and gets his many friends to protect everyone who needs protecting while Tim faces off against Ra's. (Which is, ultimately, a climax of his character arc for this story- reaching out and trusting people again. Team up guy back in action!)

Tim's able to keep Ra's busy long enough that Lucius can file the paperwork to make him the majority shareholder of Wayne Enterprises, thwarting Ra's' attempt at a takeover. However, Ra's wins the fight, and Tim ends up plummeting to his death out of the window.

And then Dick catches him.

Later, Dick asks Tim how he could have planned for Dick to be there to save him.

And Tim says "You're my brother, Dick. You'll always be there for me."

This scene has been talked to death, because most people are at a consensus: this is a fucking lie. Tim didn't know that Dick would be there, and was fully prepared to die.

However! I'm not here to rehash this. I just want to add my take. It's a lie, but. Tim is a good liar. And every good liar knows that the best lies have a grain of truth in them.

I do believe that Tim didn't know that anyone would be there to save him. But I also believe that he fully means what he says here, that it's not just to placate Dick. Tim is telling Dick that he trusts him, that he believes in him, that they're brothers. It's forgiveness.

I could keep citing all the places where Tim shows an unconditional belief in Dick that happen after this arc, to prove that their relationship is truly mended after this and that they don't continue fighting, but that happens often enough that you could just read any comic including Tim and Dick and I'm sure Tim will say some fanboy shit eventually.

So, that's it! If you take nothing else from this post, take this at least: Tim and Dick LOVE each other, and they might fight, but they forgive each other, and if you try to talk shit about Dick Grayson, Tim will be one of the first to fight you, guaranteed. Suffice to say:

#Tim Drake #Dick Grayson #Batman #Red Robin #dc comics #batfandom #this post is half Dick defense half I can't shut up about Tim #actually half of this is just summarizing red robin and then a fourth is dick defense and a fourth is me rambling about tim #and like...fandom is transformative and ultimately if you want to make Dick your bad guy you Can #but at least know what the original was and where you're differing so that is a Choice and not just something you do bc it's what's done #I originally was going to delve into Dick and Tim's relationship in general #including first meeting and Tim's Robin tenure #(parts of it at least there's a lot of Robin time)#(and I haven't finished the Robin comics oop)#but this post got out of hand. So now it's just a recounting of what happened in Red Robin with my analysis of the text and their relations #and it's still a Lot #also I haven't read ALL the batman comics leading up to this arc so if I'm missing any context I'd love to hear about it!#mostly I know I'm missing some stuff with his beef with steph

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subzeroparade · 3 months

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I don't know if anyone else has asked this before, but what do you think about Djura's character? He's a very sympathetic character in the rather cruel and grim world of Yharnam. </3

I haven't been asked, but I 100% agree. tbh I haven’t actually thought as extensively about Djura since most of my thinking = writing, and I mostly write early Healing Church shenanigans, but - I can’t imagine finding Djura not sympathetic? When you (the Hunter) roll into his turf and he’s like “hey man, maybe fuck off, these dogs were once people”, it’s pretty clearly an oh no am I the bad guy??? moment for the player character LOL. For the purpose of my own plotting/headcanons I like to imagine him as an old colleague of Gehrman’s, specifically because I think the Kegs worked in the same workshop as Gehrman’s early Hunters/entourage. In my headcanon a lot of Hunters are former Prospectors, before anyone and everyone began taking up arms by necessity - though I can imagine the Kegs, including Djura, being general mechanics or gunsmiths or even artificers before they focused their talents on weapons for the Hunt. I assume, like a lot of folk seem to, that Djura probably took part in the burning of Old Yharnam with the Kegs, and his guilt drove him to renounce hunting entirely when their guild was disbanded in the aftermath. We also don’t 100% know what the mechanism for accessing the Hunter’s Dream is, but one of my preferred theories is that Hunters are cut off once they stop taking blood - hence Djura’s reference to dreaming in the past tense. If he has no blood echoes to give because he no longer kills, then by definition he no longer dreams.

I’ve not given much thought to his actual character, but I think his rejection of the Hunt (because beasts were once men) would be interesting to articulate in contrast to Gehrman’s belief (from his cut dialogue) that killing beasts is the “only thing that keeps us human, now.” Does Djura believe there is still a degree of human awareness in the beasts? Is he a believer in an eventual cure to reverse the scourge, and that’s why he’s standing guard over Old Yharnam? Does that make him naive, or a grim sort of hopeful, or both? Does he have a personal stake in reconciling people’s views of the beasts - or keeping them alive at least - rather than a straightforward sentiment of atonement for the burning? If he's willing to kill fellow humans to keep beasts alive, he probably did not leave the Kegs or the workshop on good terms - so how did that go? In any case, these are some of the questions I’d ask if I were planning to write him.

What I do know is that Egg, my singularly inept Hunter OC who tries to adopt every creature that doesn’t kill him (and some that do), would want to drop his dayjob as a Church Propagandist and live in Djura’s beast utopia.

#ask #bloodborne #lore #retired hunter djura #egg the admittedly mediocre hunter #and his pet wandering nightmare Gregg #Gregg is short for Greglantine #this is a joke for the French specifically #the good hunter #hunter oc

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xbomboi · 12 days

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thoughts about Epic Winter, & reconciling its place in Ever After High’s story as a whole

i wanna talk about epic winter because it—arguably more than any other aspect of the franchise—is definitely ever after high’s ‘ugly duckling’ piece of media, so to speak.

now obviously, a lot of it has to do with being the final big installment in eah’s main story, its premise being a side quest that sidelines the main protagonists in favor of new characters who are comparably far less compelling as the show’s actual leads, leaving the audience without any actual closure to the story which they were following.

in isolation, epic winter isn’t that terrible (though i think most would agree its better parts are the ones centered around already-established characters as opposed to the new ones), but in context it leaves a sour taste.

i entirely understand why anyone rewriting the series would either heavily rework it, only keep more important story beats such as daring’s arc & faybelle’s side plot, or completely remove the outing altogether.

in my case, however, deleting epic winter isn’t an option; my intentions are to continue where ever after high left off, and organically finish what they started. that means epic winter stays in tact, sanity be damned.

with that writing handicap, i can’t edit any pre-existing media in the ever after high animated lineup, which has forced me to brainstorm ways to recontextualize the purpose for epic winter’s place in the story and make the time spent on its story retroactively feel, at the very least, a little more worth it.

and the solution i found comes from viewing all that is introduced in the special through chehkov's gun.

(if you're unfamiliar, chehkov's gun is a narrative rule that everything introduced in a story must be done so with a purpose to serve. i.e. if you give a character a gun, they must shoot it.)

what's done is done; if we have to go on this detour following crystal winter and the top of the world, so be it. but let's pocket it like a tool that can be used later.

so here's my idea: bring crystal and the winter kingdom back into the story later down the line when the events of the story have reached a far more grandiose scale.

basically, i think the best way to use crystal would be when the story reaches a point of confronting and opposing the ruling powers in the fairytale world. having become the new snow queen, naturally, she'd be included in a gathering of the rulers of the kingdoms in the fairytale world.

i want there to be a moment in the story where the ruling powers gather together, and we see familiar faces return (including ones that we'd be introduced to after epic winter but prior to this), such as snow white, king charming, the queen of hearts, and of course, crystal.

with her outlook that would most reasonably be more aligned with the students at ever after high, she could end up being one of-if not the sole person-those present to voice opposition to whatever unfavorable verdict the rest of the rulers have made, as it would serve as direct conflict for the protagonists. she'd find herself outnumbered and ultimately her voice holding little to no power to sway the decision (especially being disregarded for her rather young age). afterwards we'd see her reflect on her frustrations with her colleagues and their rule of the system, thinking about it in terms of what kind of ruler she wants to be, before seeing her find determination towards something, though we aren’t yet shown what she actually decides to do.

the next time we'd see her would then come a little later, the conflict reaching the most dire circumstances. all hope is lost for our heroes; raven, apple, and co. would be down on their luck against odds they're unable to overcome. and that's when crystal would show up to offer her support, providing the numbers of her kingdom as allies to help better the odds. (she wouldn't be the only ally to show up, as this would be a 'getting help from all the friends we made along the way' ordeal. she would simply be one of said friends.)

crystal's help would ultimately play a part in winning the conflict. and because the audience would be familiar with crystal and the winter kingdom to a decent extent way prior to that point, the inclusion of it in the present fight at hand wouldn't feel like an ass-pull or a deus ex machina of sorts; it would make sense and feel earned for the most part.

and i think that's honestly the best thing to be made of epic winter's main adventure. we can't change it or fix it as it is, but we can create a payoff for it all later down the line. think of it like begrudgingly doing chores that lack any enjoyment factor, only to find that afterwards, you're glad you did.

so, yeah, that's my idea for how to give epic winter a genuine purpose. but i'm just spitballing.

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wonder-worker · 2 months

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what did cicely neville do in edward iv's reign?

Hi! Cecily’s entire role during Edward IV’s reign is too long and complex to fully get into right now, so this is just going to be a very brief overview. It’s also not going to touch on her relationship with her daughter-in-law Elizabeth, even though that's somewhat relevant here in some aspects, because that’s also too complex and speculatory.

Ironically, despite the Duke of York’s claims to kingship, it was only after his death and during her widowhood that Cecily Neville truly emerged as a “quasi-queen”. After her son Edward IV had been acclaimed as King in London, and before he left for Towton with the other lords, he summoned the mayor and “all the notables of London” to gather and “recommended them to the duchess his mother”. During his absence, Cecily would preside over his household in Baynard Castle and was probably meant to act as his representative of sorts in the city. After his kingship was more firmly established, Cecily primarily resided at Westminster with him from 1461-64 and regularly accompanied him on several ceremonial and political occasions, such as their visit to Canterbury where she was magnificently welcomed. She also appears to have had a great deal of personal and political influence with her son: Nicholas O’Flanagan, the contemporary Bishop of Elpin, observed in the first few years of Edward IV's reign, his mother could “rule the king as she pleases.”

Cecily’s role demonstrably changed after Edward’s marriage to Elizabeth Woodville in 1464. She remained the second-highest ranked woman in the country, but she took a significant step back from high politics (a la Joan of Kent after her son’s marriage to Anne of Bohemia). That does not mean that either of them suddenly became apolitical or uninvolved: quite the opposite*. Cecily remained the head of a large household, her administration supported her son’s, she continued to support a few religious institutions, she engaged in trade, she launched court cases, and she clearly inspired loyalty among her affinity. All of this was fairly standard for a medieval noblewoman, but was naturally enhanced by Cecily’s own prominent royal status. Cecily was godmother to at least three of the royal children: Elizabeth of York, her namesake Cecily, and the youngest child, Bridget. She also played a role in reconciling her son George to the Yorkist cause in 1471, though she did not have the spearheading role which has often been erroneously credited to her by historians (ie: “engineering peace between her warring sons”); instead, it was her daughters Anne and Margaret who took the leading role in achieving the reconciliation, while Cecily probably aided them. She was also clearly perceived to be influential with Edward IV, best evidenced by how the mayors of Norwich petitioned her to aid them against the Duke of Suffolk in 1480, though we don’t actually know the result of Cecily’s intervention to judge whether it succeeded or how effective it was**. Regardless, though, she evidently had a much lower national profile during these years.

(On a more personal level, we also have a very sweet anecdote from Elizabeth Stonor who spoke of a meeting between Cecily and Edward in October 1476 at Greenwich: 'and ther I sawe the metyng betwyne the Kynge and my ladye his Modyr. And trewly me thowght it was a very good syght’.)

Cecily’s numerous titles are also interesting. Immediately after Edward IV’s ascension, she called herself “the Kyngs Moder, Duchess of York”. Variations of the title included references to her late husband, but she primarily defined herself in relation to her son, through whom her current position and power derived. As Laynesmith says: "narrative accounts, particularly chronicles, had naturally used the phrase ‘the king’s mother’ to describe women in the past, especially Joan of Kent. However, it was Cecily who turned this into a specific title in her letters and on her seals." A few months after Edward's marriage was announced, Cecily adopted a new title, now styling herself as: “By the ryghtful enheritors Wyffe late of the Regne off Englande & of Fraunce & off ye lordschyppe off yrlonde, the kynges mowder ye Duchesse of Yorke.” This referenced the Yorkist perception of her husband, Richard Duke of York, who was called the "true and indubitable heir" of England. In 1477, a herald for the wedding of her grandson Richard of Shrewsbury styled Cecily as “the right high and excellent Princesse and Queene of right, Cicelie, Mother to the Kinge”. This was once again linked to her husband’s status: Cecily described him in her letters as “in right King of England and of France and lord of Ireland”. All in all, Cecily’s various designations appear to have been designed to signify her own importance within the regime, to uphold the claim of her late husband, and to strengthen Edward IV’s position by promoting him as the son of the supposedly rightful heir. It’s also very possible, as Laynesmith has suggested, that “it was as her queenly power diminished [after the early 1460s] that her claims to queenship were more elaborately emphasized in wax and on parchment”.

Cecily’s role and prominence, and how it changed overtime, is best demonstrated by the number of times English subjects offered prayers for her soul in return for grants. Between June 1461 and September 1464, there are twelve instances of grants made to people who offered prayers for her. (To compare, during the first three years of Elizabeth Woodville's queenship, there were sixteen grants of the same type. So, Cecily didn't quite reach the level of the queen, but she came close; it was quintessential "quasi-queenship"). However, mentions of Cecily dramatically deceased following Edward IV's marriage: over the next 19 years till 1483, she is only mentioned five times, and in all cases Elizabeth Woodville was also listed before she was. Three of these mentions are in 1465, likely reflecting contemporary unease with her son's controversial marriage and the perceived unsuitable origins of the new queen. After that, however, Cecily is mentioned only twice: once in 1476 and once in 1481, with the latter being a grant to her own son-in-law Thomas St. Leger***. This fits well with what I mentioned above about her quasi-queenship in the early 1460s, followed by a much more reduced role and lower national profile in the future years.

Hope this helps!

*Oddly, Cecily is not mentioned at all in contemporary reports for her daughter Margaret’s wedding. Laynesmith believes that she was unwell, and that may as well be true, but Margaret's celebrations went on for a great period of time and it does seem conspicuous that Cecily was entirely absent from them all. It's also worth noting that a letter from the Milanese ambassador Giovanni Pietro Panicharolla on the marriage wrote that "the king, the queen, her father, and the king's brothers are all disposed to it" (sidenote: it's VERY interesting that the queen's father is mentioned before the king's own brothers and male heirs) but made no mention of Cecily. Nor, iirc, was she mentioned in the tournament held to celebrate Anglo-Burgundian relations. It does clearly seem as though Cecily did not play a notable role in the marriage, and relevant diplomacy, at all. (Laynesmith's claim that Cecily had "helped lay the ground for" the marriage because she *checks notes* dispatched both her sons to Burgundy in middle of a civil war 7 years earlier, with many fluctuations in Anglo-Burgundian relations in between, is, I'm sorry to say, nonsense). ** Laynesmith believes that "Cecily’s intervention to control Suffolk perhaps marked a turning point in the duke’s violent career because when he resorted to force again the following summer his victim successfully reclaimed the manor from which he had personally ejected her." I think that Laynesmith is being far too assumptive and that we don’t even know the result of Cecily’s intervention in 1480 to somehow credit her with entirely different case one year later that did not even involve her, lol. ***Even more oddly, Cecily’s own son Richard didn’t include her among the list for who to offer prayers for in his college in Middleham in 1478. This was despite the fact that he had included Edward IV, Elizabeth Woodville, his wife Anne, his sisters, his dead brothers and his dead father. It’s incredibly striking, and I wonder what could have happened to cause her exclusion, especially since she was included in religious foundations by both Edward and her son-in-law Thomas St. Leger? Laynesmith claims that "this rather suggests that Richard's own piety was not consciously influenced by hers", and sure, that seems obvious, but it certainly can't have been the only reason. Was she merely overlooked (unlikely), or did they have a quarrel at the time, or was it for another now-unknown reason? Whatever the case, it's a small but intriguing detail to me.

Sources:

"Cecily, Duchess of York" by J.L. Laynesmith

"A Paper Crown: The Titles and Seals of Cecily, Duchess of York" by J.L. Laynesmith (The Ricardian)

"Cecily Neville: Mother of Kings" by Amy License

#ask #cecily neville duchess of york #edward iv #english history #cecily neville #my post #queue

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lewkwoodnco · 7 months

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Could you write an anthony lockwood x reader with 'you belong with me' by taylor swift?

You Belong With Me - Lockwood x Reader

A/N: 2.4k, enjoy! Tried my best, hope you like it :)

It was a quiet sort of night. George was shut up in his room as usual, tinkering with his experiments, and Lucy was finishing up a whodunit in the attic. There was nothing to do except sit in the kitchen and snack on marmalade toast while listening to the soft strains from the wheezing radio.

Whatever wailing love song that was playing finally ended, and some commercials started to play. She looked around disinterestedly, tuning out the cheesy advertisements. The door of the kitchen was slightly ajar, and through the gap she spied Lockwood standing at the telephone in the hallway. She couldn't quite make out what he was saying, but he looked mildly miffed and seemed to be busy extensively explaining something. He distractedly tugged at his scalp the way he did when he was burdened with a case that never seemed to end, and she almost felt sorry for him, if it weren't for the fact that it didn't take much to annoy Lockwood. She did it all the time.

He hung up the phone with a sigh, shifting out of sight for a moment, before reappearing at the door. He smiled at her and her sticky fingers weakly, rolling his eyes at the radio.

"I don't know why you bother with that beat-up piece of junk. It's been breaking down for years now. Maybe it's time to let it go."

"Are you kidding? Half the fun is positioning it just right." Lockwood shook his head, busying himself with some tea before sitting down opposite to her. She jerked her head towards the door, trying and failing to brush the sweet crumbs coating her fingertips. "Trouble in paradise?"

He laughed ruefully, running his fingers through his hair, as if just thinking about it was enough to make him want to pull at his hair. "No, not exactly. Anna's lovely, of course. It's just that we have different...tastes. She didn't like one of my jokes, I said that it wasn't that serious, and now she won't talk to me."

"Makes sense. Your jokes suck."

"They do not."

"You're the only one who laughs at them."

"You do too!"

"Only because they're so bad!" She trained her eyes on the precious little crumbs left on her plate, as if looking up would be enough to let Lockwood know how much she secretly adored his jokes. "I will say this: they're an acquired taste. I'm sure Anna's great, and all, but she hasn't known you all that long." She frowned into her tea as she took a sip. It was something that wriggled inside her brain from time to time. It took Lockwood a while to trust someone enough to let down his defences, and though she would never say it out loud, she felt as though he had rushed into this a bit too quickly, quicker than he was comfortable. The disparity just didn't reconcile in her mind no matter how she looked at it; it didn't make sense for quiet and unassuming Lockwood to suddenly launch himself headfirst into a relationship with someone he barely knew.

Maybe it was because Anna actually registered as a girl to him. After weeks of drifting through the rooms, looking like a zombie, even during lull periods, she probably didn't look much different to him than George. It wasn't that she didn't like dressing up; they had such little free time and dolling herself up was quite low on her list of hobbies. Anna, on the other hand, was always so put together, so pristine, so likeable, so easy to make substantial conversation with. She loved Anna to bits, but it stung whenever she saw her standing next to Lockwood. They didn't even have to be touching to simply look like a couple.

The commercials faded, and the radio forced out a few crackling notes of a jaunty tune, and the lyrics which accompanied it, at least those of which were decipherable, seemed barely coherent and completely nonsensical. Lockwood laughed, leaning back in his chair, fingers absent-mindedly drumming along to the beat.

"Anna would absolutely hate listening to this."

"It's entertaining!"

"It's nonsense, is what it is."

But in that moment, she just couldn't bring herself to care about what Anna would or wouldn't think. She saw her enough without dwelling on her when she wasn't even there. So what if the music was a little silly and clunky? She was a little silly and clunky herself. And she was having a hard time picking a fight with something that made serious-serious-Lockwood-with-bills-up-to-his-elbows laugh. How did he stand spending so much time with someone as averse to goofiness as Anna? It didn't make any sense to her.

But what did she know? It wasn't like she'd known him for ages and sometimes felt that she knew him better than he knew himself, or could sense when he was feeling down from the other end of the house, or was privy to all his inside jokes. No, that was a completely different girl that just happened to walk and talk exactly like her. But who was she to feel bitter over Lockwood's new beau? Just a starry-eyed employee who hung on his every word, whether she showed it or not.

"I don't get how you listen to this," Lockwood broke her out of her reverie, tapping at the dusty metal as she looked away, face warm over nearly being caught staring at him. "It all sounds the same to me. Like static."

"Not to me," she watched Lockwood swirl his tea, distantly wondering if there was some veil over his eyes that she could just peel back for him to see her as she was: everything he would be looking for. " I know it well. I know it inside out."

Oblivious as ever, Lockwood stared into his tea glumly, half-shrugging as he murmured. "We can get you a new one, if you'd like."

"No thanks. This one's perfect as is."

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The next day, Lockwood went over to Anna’s in the morning, and when he came back, he was uncharacteristically quiet. He looked like he had a lot on his mind, so she didn’t want to bother him, but she couldn’t restrain herself for long. The Council had hired them for a job in a park, and George had sent the two of them to check out the perimeter to find any information that could be useful.

"I heard you leave in the morning."

"Hmm? Oh, yes. I was at Anna's."

"Everything okay?"

He forced out a laugh. "As okay as it can be, I suppose."

She nodded, feeling the sun beat down on them, burning the back of her neck. Her hair was starting to stick in her forehead and Lockwood's laid limply on his head, making him look even more deflated. It was a sluggish sort of day, too warm for children to be running about, so it was around an empty park that they were dragging their feet. The only people in sight was a group of high-schoolers, and even they seemed to be leaving soon. They decided to take a break on a park bench, watching the teacher anxiously repeat her head-counts.

"Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like. To stay in school, I mean. And...learn. And have anything ghost-related be background noise to...other things in life." He was choosing his words very carefully, but the blankness in his face sounded alarm bells in her head. She straightened, taking on a dry tone.

"I don't think you'd be able to handle it."

"No?"

"So much of you is tied to the paranormal, and some of it must be fate. I'd expect you'd somehow manage to make it your life's purpose anyway."

"How so?"

"I don't know. Ever fight a ghost?"

He choked on his laughter, caught off-guard. "Not yet, no."

"Well, there you go. You'd find a ghost, wind up your fist, and POW! And then you'd open an agency dedicated to knocking the living - er, dying - daylights out of ghosts."

"What if I got ghost touched?"

"Ech, then you'd be insufferable. You'd make it your whole personality and we'd never get rid of you."

His shoulders shook silently and he took a deep breath to calm himself down, only to burst into another fit of giggles. It wasn't easy to get Lockwood to laugh, and a very unique laugh he had - deep, but light at the same time, and it erased the wrinkles on his forehead and corners of his mouth like magic. He was alight with amusement, different from his somewhat stiff and hesitant smile in front of Anna, the kind of smile that made her want to look away, lest she fall in love even harder. She secretly prided herself on being one of the few people who could make him laugh so readily, creating a few moments for herself to unobtrusively memorise the curve of his smile and shine in his eye. It was Lockwood and her, two peas in a pod, who shared the same whisper of breath, whose heartbeats synced. Somehow or the other, they were always meant to be, even as friends; there was little else she knew with such certainty. He was something familiar, something known, a treasure trove of memories untold. He was home.

How long before he moved on to greater things in life? Things which didn't include her? How was she supposed to get up and move on herself? Leave, just like that?

Some clouds had gathered over where they were sitting, and a slight breeze picked up in the still air. Rather than making the park pleasantly cool, she felt a growing sense of unease, unsettled by the anxiety the rushing winds seemed to carry. Lockwood cleared his throat, standing up, glancing at his watch. "We should go. George will be waiting."

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She was sitting in her room, unseeingly staring at the dust on her floor. The job had gone less than smoothly, and she was stuck in a cycle of reliving flashes of it, the terror that gripped her and the numbness that struck her heart when she saw Lockwood launching himself in between her and the ghost. As if her body knew she wasn't strong enough to handle the shock.

What followed wasn't pretty. She vaguely remembered yelling at Lockwood and maybe shoving him on some ice, but she was too blinded by rage to remember many details. She couldn't remember if he had tried to stop her or say anything in return, but that was just as well: she didn't want to hear a single pathetic excuse as to why he suddenly decided his life was worth less than hers.

She jerked up at the sound of a soft knock at her door. It was Lockwood, still holding his coat in his hand and his sleeves slightly rolled up. He had a Hello Kitty bandage near his hairline, but other than that, he looked just as worn as he did on the way back. Their bedrooms were situated such that Lockwood would pass by on his way to and from the library, and he more often than not stopped to chat about the most menial of topics, even if it was in the middle of the night, as long as she was awake. This visit, however, clearly didn't have that same ease to it. He looked at her hopefully, maybe a little expectantly, but she looked back impassively.

"You alright?" He asked tentatively, faltering under her sharp gaze. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, looking so pitiful that she felt a stab of pity despite herself.

"Look, I didn't realise what I was doing. You looked so scared. I only wanted to help." She finally relented.

"Of course I was scared. I'm always scared. I'm scared that we don't have enough flares, that we underestimated the number of ghosts, that one of them will touch us. But none of that scares me as much as you or your reckless abandon. I know how far you'd risk your neck for us, and I can only hope I'm wrong. If you were touched..." she trailed off, a disturbed silence stretching out in front of both of them. "I don't know if I would be able to live with myself. You belong here," she reached out, wrapping her fingers around Lockwood's with only a dulled sense of panic. "Here, in the real world, with us. With me."

She was tired, so tired, as she closed her eyes, head on his collarbone. "I know you like the back of my hand, Lockwood. You're always the first one out the door on every single one of our suicide missions, but there's something quieter under all that bravado. A craving for peace." She blinked back tears she didn't realise were there, breath shallow. "And I hope you find it. I hope you find it in time."

They sat like that for a while, her forehead gently resting on the side of his cheekbone, both of their visions adjacent to each other. Lockwood's heart pulsed through his veins but all she remembered was the sticky stagnance that cemented them, as if they were slowly drifting towards their doom. She would never open her heart to anyone else, and he would never change his ways, and they would wonder why they were heartbroken as they grew old together. She saw a tear land on his dusty white shirt, and her remaining resolve to hold herself together dissolved.

"It's just...we have so little. I want even less. I just want to spend the rest of my days fighting ghosts and listening to a crappy radio with you. Is that too much to ask for?"

He inhaled shakily, and she held his wrist to steady him. He was silent for a while before he responded.

"I wasn't completely honest before. Anna and I...we ended things. And I was having a lot of thoughts about whether or not I did the right thing. Whether I really was too blind to see what was right in front of me. I think I've found my answer."

There was nothing wrong with going out, messing up, trying to find love. But if it's not out there, he was always going to come back.

Come back to the person he knew all along.

#fanfiction #lockwood x y/n #anthony lockwood imagine #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #fanfic #lockwood & co #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #taylor swift #you belong with me #fearless (taylor's version)#requested

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