#I say somewhat because I don’t think ALL of his drama is meant to be a distraction/performance.

[forcedhesitation]

exhalted vampeeric maaastah

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 | boyfriend's dad!cillian murphy x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | for some reason, your first instinct after the breakup was to talk to his parents; maybe because you'd come sort of uniquely close to them, for a relatively short relationship. you might not have gone to their house if you'd known you'd find mr. murphy there alone...

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ ONLY!! unprotected sex, creampie, oral m and f receiving), age gap (reader's age unspecified, cillian is 45+), hurt/comfort (but, you know, sexual comfort), infidelity, slight manipulation/coercion since the reader is very vulnerable at the time, somewhat inexperienced reader, degradation and praise, a little bit of breathplay, hair pulling, slight dacryphilia?, reader is slightly implied to be an immigrant/foreigner

note: yes I use his real name but this is just fiction and not meant to have anything to do with the real cillian murphy or his life/family so please keep that in mind!

He had a smile on his face as he opened the door and greeted you, but it fell instantly when he saw you biting down on your quivering lip, looking down to hide how red and watery your eyes were.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, voice heavy with concern as he reached out and rubbed your shoulder. "Oh, god— come in, come in— what's going on?"

He ushered you into the house, shutting the door behind you and wrapping his arm around you as you sniffled. "I-I'm sorry—" you began instantly.  “I thought— I don’t know why I even came here…”

But, actually, you sort of did.  You’d been wanting to talk to Cillian’s wife, hoping for some motherly advice, until he answered the door and you abruptly remembered she was in England on business for a week or something.  And you couldn’t exactly show up on somebody’s doorstep crying and say ‘oh, sorry, I thought your wife would be home— I’ll come back in a few days’.

You weren’t disappointed by running into him instead, really, you just felt a little weirder about it.  The two of you had never actually been alone before.

"Don't apologise," he soothed, "it's okay, just tell me what's happened. Are you alright?"

"Yeah," you sighed, trying to compose yourself a bit as he guided you to sit on the couch with him. "Yeah, I'm okay, I just... um, well, it's sort of stupid—"

"I'm sure it's not," he offered with a small laugh, "if it's got you this worked up."

"We, um... I think we broke up?"

"What?" he breathed, knitting his eyebrows together— he cared more than you expected... but it sort of made sense, Mr. Murphy had always made you feel welcome here. Mrs. Murphy too, maybe ina different way. Yes, it's bizarre to respond to being dumped by going to visit the guy's parents, you needed a sort of... mature, familial presence right now while you were so far from your own.

You took him through the whole drama as efficiently as possible, trying to regulate your crying so he could actually attempt to make out what you were saying. He listened thoughtfully, perhaps with too much attention compared to what you expected— after all, this was stupid college drama and he was so much more mature than all that. Still, you appreciated a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.

"And, uh, that's how he ended it," you finished with a sigh, sniffling as you recalled the heartbreaking conversation. "He basically told me that he's too young to be stuck with one person, and he needs to 'explore his options'..."

"Then he's an idiot," Cillian groaned, "and I hate to say that about my own son— but he's a fuckin' idiot."

"Well," you mumbled, "I don't know— I thought maybe he had a point. I mean, we're pretty young..."

"But look at you, honey," he offered pityingly, "you can't tell me this is what you wanted."

"No, but—"

"And yes, you're young," he added, "but not too young— not if it's real."

You bit your lip to stop it from shaking any more, and he cooed at you gently as he reached up to rub your shoulder.  

“Poor girl,” he breathed.  “Honestly, I always… well, maybe I shouldn’t say it now…”

You looked up at him expectantly, and he smiled nervously as he glanced away.

“Well… I guess I always thought that you could do better,” he admitted with a soft laugh, “but, you know, I didn’t want to say anything, of course.  He was lucky to have you, and I just hoped he would treat you right, but…”

“I thought I was the lucky one,” you replied with a thin smile and another little sniffle.  “He could be really sweet, you know— he used to be.  And I always thought he was, uh, sort of… you know, out of my league.”

“Oh, honey, no,” Cillian frowned, moving his hand up to your face and holding your cheek, wiping a small tear away with his thumb.  “You’re gorgeous.”

You laughed awkwardly, not sure what to think— or how to think— with him looking at you like that.  “I… I don’t know, you’re sweet, but—”

“No, really,” he assured, and only when you met his gaze did you realise how close he was.  You wouldn’t call it too close, only because it didn’t bother you like you knew it should.  “You’re so beautiful.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing actually came out… there was nothing to say.  He was coming closer, you knew it, and you wanted to reach up to stop him just as much as you wanted to shut your eyes and give into it.  You ended up sort of splitting the difference: you rested your hands on his shoulders, but didn’t push him away, and gasped slightly just before he kissed you.  Even a second of resistance could’ve given you some plausible deniability, but no, you fluttered your eyes shut and kissed him back; it didn’t help that you could feel how warm and strong he was through the t-shirt, holding on tighter to his shoulders with a hum.

His hands wandered to your waist, pulling you into him— and you were like putty, embarrassingly enough. With him kissing you like that, you really couldn’t do anything but let him pull you around wherever he wanted.  His lips were soft and gentle, his tongue teased you so carefully, and he even sighed against your skin in the sweetest way… you were totally helpless already.  

Sure, some part of you knew how fucking bizarre this was— that you were kissing Mr. Murphy, your boyfriend’s dad— well… ex-boyfriend’s.  You weren’t blind, you noticed how attractive he was when you met him, but you’d managed to successfully ignore it since then.  It made sense, after all, since the first thing you’d noticed about your boyfriend was his good looks… but Mr. Murphy was handsome in a totally different way.  Strong and broad— not especially massive or anything, still a lean guy— with thin streaks of grey in his hair, a patient sort of smile, subtle wrinkles around his eyes that added a sense of wisdom to his expression… really, he was a bit more of your type.  But that was something you had forced yourself not to acknowledge— until now.

You sat up slightly, holding onto his neck, breathing in sharply through your nose as you kissed him back a little harder.  You could feel him smiling— god, even just that made you feel so desperate— and he even moaned ever-so-quietly when you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathed against your lips, breaking away just enough to make you open your eyes— his lashes seemed especially long as he looked down at your legs curled up on the couch (and his hands petting them slowly.  “You haven’t been treated properly for a long time, have you?”

You whined in the back of your throat involuntarily as you nodded— how could he see right through you like that?  It wasn’t like it was bad with your ex, it was just… not good.  Not enough.  You wanted to feel wanted, not used— not a means to an end.

“Will you let me?” he asked softly, breathing beside your ear on his way in to kiss your neck.  You gasped, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close, head falling back to give him as much of you as he wanted.  His tongue was fucking fiendish, the way he used it to tickle along your pulse, the sharpness of his teeth making you jolt only for him to soothe you with his plush lips.

“Yes,” you panted, “fuck— I, god, I can’t believe we’re doing this…”

He laughed a little.  “I can,” he admitted.  “All I could fucking think about since I met you…”

That surprised you— you’d never noticed anything that would’ve made you think he thought of you that way… but knowing that he, apparently, had made a shiver run up your spine.

He certainly hid it well, playing the part of the slightly-embarrassing dad and polite husband so well that you never would’ve known… oh god, his wife.  You didn’t want to think of her now, yet the unavoidable memory stirred arousal alongside guilt in your gut.  You had no idea you were this sort of person— but you weren’t really operating logically right now, anyway.

He held your face again as he pulled back, petting your cheek— it made you feel especially juvenile when he did that, holding your chin to examine you.  This wasn’t really the ideal state for you to be looked at, in your opinion, with you having been crying all evening.  But he looked amazed by you, even if it was just for a moment before he looked down at your body and smirked.

“Take this off,” he instructed, tugging at your shirt slightly.  You thought it would’ve been a little more romantic if he helped you out of it, but it was alternatively a bit sexier that he was just going to sit back and watch you strip for him.  It must have been his way of demonstrating his power over you, that you were just going to take it off and toss it aside without question.  Which, of course, you did.

He smiled proudly at the sight, and before you could even get your bra off, he started to carefully tease you through it— fingers running around the edge, moving the straps off your shoulders, tickling up your sides as you shifted nervously on the couch.  

“Look’t that,” he whispered proudly, and you took a second to realise that he was referring to your nipples getting hard enough to poke visibly through the fabric; you felt self-conscious all of a sudden, even if he was clearly enjoying what he was seeing.  “So needy, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” you admitted, whining when he reached inside the cups and ran his fingers over your breasts— they usually weren’t so sensitive.  “Fuck,” you breathed, shutting your eyes as a way to try to escape his gaze.  “I… I need you.”

“Fuck, baby, don’t talk like that,” he groaned, “m’gonna try to take my time with you— how am I supposed to do that if you say such lovely things?”

His lips were on your neck again— and he was leaning you back, laying you down under him, tugging your shorts down with a bit more urgency than he’d had before.

When you were basically naked— or at least, your bra and panties pushed out of the way enough that he could see what he needed to— he purred at the sight, grinning as you hastily undressed yourself the rest of the way.  

"Of course he couldn't appreciate this," Cillian sighed, baring his teeth just a bit. "Of course he couldn't appreciate a perfect fucking body like this— a perfect little pussy like this..."

You were about to open your mouth to say something, though you hadn't even decided yet what it would be, but only a low moan came out when he held your legs open and dove between them, humming as he lapped at your clit. You couldn't imagine why you were so sensitive, but your whole body was shaking already just from the gentlest motions of his tongue...

"Fuck," he said, muffled against your skin, before he pulled back enough to bite playfully on your thigh. "Fuck, darling, you taste delicious. Christ. You're too perfect..."

He devoured you again, exploring all over you with his tongue as your thighs kept instinctively clamping down on his head. He kept looking up at you through it all, even when you couldn't stand to meet his gaze and had to arch your back from the pleasure. "Fuck!" you yelped, grabbing tightly onto his hair. "Fuck, Mr. Murphy, I— oh, god..."

"He never made you come like this, did he?" Cillian realised with a groan, nearly growling when you shook your head. "Has anyone?"

"N-no," you shakily admitted, and he moaned around you as he suckled harder on your clit for a moment until you whined loudly.

"Oh, poor thing," he cooed, "how could anyone taste this sweet cunt of yours, and not want to spend hours between your legs?"

He didn’t need to spend hours, though— the taboo nature of the situation seemed to turn your body into overdrive, making you so sensitive and desperate… or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, but it was hard to say.

The point is, all too soon, you were shivering under him, back arching up off the couch, holding on tightly to his hair.  He hummed approvingly, even moaning against you as he slid his tongue inside; he must have been able to feel you pulsing, moving closer and closer to the edge, because he shut his eyes tight and seemed to focus harder and pushing you further until you couldn’t take anymore.

“Fuck, fuck!” you sobbed, thighs shaking around his head; there really was no exploration to it, no teasing, he just went right in and expertly played you like he’d done this a thousand times.  Maybe he had… but, obviously, he’d never done it to you.  Were you that easy to solve?

Obviously, that question suddenly became the last thing on your mind as your orgasm wracked through you.  He growled encouragingly, still keeping his pace, but you could barely hear it past the ringing in your ears— and your own cries of his name, of course.

He only broke away when your squirms turned into real avoidance: you could only take so much, especially with him suckling on your clit like that.

You were almost nervous to open your eyes again— and you were right, he looked so gorgeous between your legs, obviously smug with having just made you come, it was nearly criminal.

“Is it really that easy to make you come, honey?” he laughed, petting your legs sweetly as he pulled back, looking up at you with a proud grin.  “That’s so fucking cute, baby…”

As he sat up again, wiping the slick off his mouth with the back of his hand, you got this weird, clingy feeling— wanting to chase him even just as he barely moved away.  

But he’d sat up for a reason, and you started to realise it when you sat up, too, and noticed the thick bulge in his jeans.

"Why don't you show me what you can do, sweetheart?" he encouraged with a smile, opening his belt for you. "I'm sure you've learned a thing or two..."

Though you still felt terribly nervous about it, you leaned forward towards his lap. Would it be awful to admit your mouth watered when he freed his cock from his jeans and boxers, holding it out for you as a little bead of precum formed at the tip?

"Show me, baby," he whispered again, "and look up at me."

You nervously blinked up at him, meeting his gaze from his lap, as you wrapped your lips around his swollen head. He bit his lip right away and reached up to hold onto your hair, groaning as you swirled your tongue.

"Fuck," he smirked, "you're sort of a tease, aren't you?"

You weren't trying to be, really, but it didn't sound like he minded too much...

"Oh, fuck," he moaned deeply, making you pulse inside as he tilted his head back. "Fuck, baby, that's good— your mouth is so fucking warm..."

He gasped and panted as he held your head, guiding it to bob just a little faster than you had been moving. "Sweetheart," he choked, "you're so fucking good... fuck!"

The praise made your chest fill with warmth, even if there was still some part of your brain that was recovered enough from the orgasm to remember how horrible this all was.  It was horrible, but perfect— and feeling his cock throb against your tongue was perfect, too.

You’d never been told you were so good at this before, but he kept moaning and petting your head encouragingly, whispering the most wonderful and filthy things.  “Just like that, honey,” he cooed, “mm— pretty thing… knew that mouth of yours would feel so fuckin’ good… just keep sucking my cock, sweetheart.”

That you did— harder and faster, stroking what your mouth couldn’t fit, moaning softly around him.  As you tried to take it deeper, desperate to please him, you gagged on his thick head.

“God, it’s so cute when you choke on it, baby,” he chuckled.  “Do it again.”

This time it was almost too much, but he held your head down and groaned deeply.  It would’ve bothered you more— not being able to breathe— if he didn’t sound so sexy right then…

Thankfully, he pulled you off just in time, making you yelp as he held you by your hair— only to kiss you hard, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.  Moaning, you melted into his arms, and let him guide you to straddle his lap.  Feeling his jeans against your thighs and his shirt against your chest made your heart skip.

He took another long look at you when he broke away, a new darkness in his bright eyes.

“You’re so sexy,” he laughed softly, running his hands over your nude form and raising a brow as he watched goosebumps break out over your skin.  “God, I need to be inside you…”

You bit down on your lip but it didn’t do much to suppress your whimper; lifting yourself up a bit, you grasped his cock and slid it through your folds, guiding him to your entrance.  

You both gasped when he slipped inside, even when it was the slightest penetration— his whole head wasn’t in yet, and you just knew it would stretch you more than you were used to.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned loudly, tilting his head back, “you’re so wet, sweetheart…”

Lowering yourself, you took in a shaky breath, whining slightly as he opened you up one inch at a time... and each one seemed somehow thicker than the last. His fingers seemed to dig deeper into the skin at your hips and ass the lower that you sank onto him.

You could barely believe that you took it all; that you relaxed into his lap fully even when you feared being split in half by how thick he was.  “Oh my god,” you blurted out, operating on instinct as you started to move— grinding back and forth, desperate for friction despite having been satisfied by his incredible mouth just a few minutes ago.

"Fuck, there you go," he encouraged with a growl, looking down at your hips rocking in his lap. "Ride me, just like that— fuck, ride my cock, little fuckin' whore..."

You whimpered at the insult, holding tighter onto his shoulders, but it only made you move faster. "S-so... so deep, Mr. Murphy," you whimpered.

"Yeah? You can take it," he promised darkly, holding tighter onto your waist as he dropped his head back with a low groan. "God, you're tight— fuck."

You gasped as he bucked his hips up, creating more pressure against your over-sensitive clit. "Oh, fuck," you breathed, struggling to cope with all the sensations he was giving you.

Both of you settled on the right pace, and he switched between resting his head back against the couch (giving you a nice view of his gorgeous neck, how could just a neck be so sexy?!) and looking down to watch you go.  “So fuckin’ cute,” he praised— though you were sort of surprised to hear him describe you that way at a time like this.  “So needy, honey… you want more, don’t you?  You wanna go even faster.”

Now that he said it: yeah, you did.  You bounced up and down, your moans coming out all shaky and uneven because of the movement, and he grinned proudly.

His hands wandered up from your waist to your chest, groping you eagerly as you gasped out his name in response.  “Love these tits of yours,” he informed you, sounding oddly sweet for how dirty of a compliment it was.  “Took everything in me not to stare at them when you’d come over for dinner… see what you do to me, sweetheart?  Haven’t felt this desperate since I was your age.”

Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing, reminding you of how much older he was at a time like this.  He purred when he felt you clench on him, obviously affected by the comment.

“Should’ve known you’d give in right away,” he went on, softening his voice to nearly a whisper as he watched you move with heavy eyes; you angled your hips back and moaned louder, his cock rubbing against just the right spot every time now.  “Hungry little thing like you— now I wish I hadn’t waited so long.  We could’ve been doing this the whole time… I could’ve shown you how much better it can be, when somebody really takes care of you.”

Whimpering, you felt another heady pang inside you— if he kept talking like that, you wouldn’t be able to keep your head on straight… then again, the fact that you were here proved that you were less stable than you thought.

“Faster, sweetheart,” he ordered again suddenly.  “I wanna see how desperate you can get.”

You furrowed your brows together, almost pouting, but did exactly what he wanted— you wondered if you looked as pathetic as you sounded, riding him recklessly, chasing another peak even when it took all of your strength in those shaking legs.

He grabbed you by the jaw and guided you into another desperate kiss— all teeth and tongue and low moans.  “Good fucking girl,” he snarled.  “Good little slut.”

“Fuck,” you panted, moving faster.  “Fuck, I’m close—”

“I know, honey,” he cooed, nodding as he moved his hand down to your neck.  “Show me how bad you need it, sweetheart.  Let me see it, I wanna see you come for me.”

Tossing your head back, you cried out his name again— why did you always do that when you came?— and felt it overtake you.  It was even heavier than the last one, even more numbing and draining, and you didn’t even notice how hard you were digging your nails into his shoulders.

When your body failed and you came to a shaky stop, he didn’t give you much time to catch your breath: he grabbed you tight, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, and began to buck his hips up into you quickly.

“Oh my god, oh my god!” you whined, overwhelmed by the feeling, holding onto him tightly just to have something to keep you grounded.

“Fuck, m’gonna come inside you,” he warned with a growl.  “Gonna fill you, baby, you’ll be so fuckin’ full of my come—”

You sobbed and buried your face in his neck, starting to cry again for a completely different reason than before.

“Tell me you want it,” he ordered, speaking roughly right against your ear.

“F-fuck, I want it,” you gasped, “I want you to come— fuck— come inside me—”

He choked out a few more swears, he held you tight enough that you started to imagine what his bruises would look like on you tomorrow, and with a low groan of your name, it all suddenly slowed to a stop.  You moaned weakly when you felt his cock flexing against your walls, even more heat pooling inside you.  With what little energy you had left, you softly kissed his neck— until he seemed to come back to reality and pushed you back enough to be face-to-face with you again.  

You realised suddenly that you were still sort of crying from the intensity of it all, and got nervous with him staring at you like that.  “I’m sorry,” you sniffled as you wiped your face.

“Don’t apologise,” he told you again, moving your hands away so he could look at you himself.  “Besides, you look even cuter when you cry.”

[starsandhughes]

Didn't Know What Love Was— Quinn Hughes

summary: you were somewhat of a cynic when it came to love. you didn't believe in it, and if it was real, you didn't want it. that is, until your best friend sets you up with a certain hockey player named quinn.

warnings: swearing, fade to black smut (like extremely fade to black), fluff

word count: 3.9k+

MASTERLIST

this is inspired by the song 'didn't know what love was' by kane brown!

You weren’t expecting to feel this way. 

You didn’t think this feeling was real. 

Love.

You’ve said it, you’ve been told it, but all of those instances weren’t real to you. You get to a certain point in a relationship and someone says it first and you think, yeah, I guess that’s what this is. It was nothing like how it was portrayed in the movies, because they were just movies. Movies are fake, so you thought love was, too. It always ended. It always included drama. And then you’d find someone new.

You’ve never been more wrong. 

February 20, 2021

“Mack, have you ever thought of the fact that I’m just not meant for a relationship? It’s all bullshit anyways,” you grumbled. You were laying on your back horizontally on bed with your feet hanging off the edge, settled on the floor. Your best friend, Mackenzie, was once again setting you up on a date. “You’re single now! Find yourself a date!” 

Mackenzie rolled her eyes and sat next to you, “I’m not ready to get back out there! It’s only been two weeks since Jason and I broke up and we dated for seven months. You, however, have been single for almost a year!” 

“You’re only proving my point, Mack!” you said, sitting up. “Relationships end. They’re messy and leave us heartbroken. And maybe the magic blinds you for a while and you get married, but I’ve met more people with divorced parents than married ones. And I’ve seen so many loveless marriages that the couple only sticks together because they wouldn’t know what else to do. I’ve seen couples break up in restaurants. I’ve seen couples fight and scream at a public park.  Love isn’t real. And if it is, I can live without it.” 

Mackenzie looked at you with the most pity filled expression you’ve ever seen. She believes in love. She believes in the shitty romance novels and shitty movies. But you’ve picked up her pieces too many times to even contemplate believing in it. 

“Love is real!” she exclaimed. “How else could people have written sonnets and movies and books and songs about it?”

“People write stuff about monsters, too, but you don’t see any people bursting into flames in the sunlight,” you said. 

“In Twilight they sparkled!”

“I don’t give a shit what they did, they’re still made up,” you laughed. “It’s called fiction for a reason.” 

“You can’t make up a feeling. You can’t make up being so enamored by someone that you miss them so bad it hurts when they’re not with you!” 

“You’re just repeating things you’ve heard in movies about love!” you argued. “You haven’t even been in love. Not truly. You told me so when you broke up with Jason.” 

“So go on this date, and if it all works out, you can tell me what love is. They even call oxytocin the love chemical! You believe in science! And I believe that this guy is the perfect match for you,” your best friend continued to beg. “Think of it as a science experiment.” 

You ended up caving, more so to get Mackenzie to stop begging. It’s not like you were against dating, you’ve had plenty of relationships, but after so many failed ones you stop seeing the point. You could get your needs met without being tied down and risking becoming attached. That’s all that “love” really was. Attachment. Sure, it’s nice to have one person that’s somewhat of a best friend to spend your life with. But adding all of that “girlfriend and boyfriend” stuff to it is destined for failure. And you were done with it. 

When you found him at the restaurant, you were taken back. You’d seen pictures of him so that you’d know who to look for, but he looked so much better in person. His hair looked unbelievably soft, and he somehow made the locks seemingly out of place look perfect. His soft eyes were to die for, and the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up made the veins in his arm visible. All you wanted to do was trace them. 

“Y/N?” the boy asked when he noticed you staring. He stood up to greet you, helping you slip off your jacket to hang on the back of the chair as he pulled it out for you. He waited for you to sit down before taking a seat himself. “I’m Quinn.”

“So I’ve heard,” you chuckled. “I’ve been told that you’re the sweetest guy Mackenzie knows and are bound to change my mind about my stance on relationships.”

“I’ve heard you don’t believe in love,” Quinn countered. 

Your eyes widened, and if you were taking a drink, you would’ve choked on it.

“Wow,” you said amused. “Mack jumped to the nitty gritty then? I take it this means that you do believe in love?”

“I do,” Quinn confirmed. 

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Not yet. But I’ve seen it. My parents have the purest love I’ve ever seen. They spread it to everyone they know and everyone my brothers and I know. They make it hard to not believe in it.”

You couldn’t help but feel soft at his statement. You’ve never heard anyone tell you that they believe in love because of their parents. Hell, you haven’t really had a guy firmly tell you that he believes in love. It was always your girl friends swearing up and down that “the one” is out there. 

“Are you going to teach me how to love, Quinn Hughes?” you said flirtily, placing your hand under your chin.

Quinn reached across the table and grabbed your other hand, “I’m going to show you what a romantic date is supposed to be like. And if you like it, I’ll take you on another. And another. And if we get there, I’ll show you how a real man acts as a boyfriend. And hopefully, along the way, we’ll fall in love. And I won’t say it until I know it’s there.”

“How will you know it’s love?” you asked. He already had you melting at his advances. 

“I’ll know when it’s a feeling I’ve never felt before. I’ll know when it’s a feeling that can’t be described as anything but love. Are you in?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Quinn was serious. He didn’t want a fling. He wasn’t here to get sex at the end of the night. He was here to see if he can find the real thing with you. He was here for a challenge. 

“I’m in.”

Over dinner you two did the usual small chat about yourselves, but that quickly developed into telling full out stories. It wasn’t awkward with him like it had been on some other first dates. You were strangely very comfortable with him. 

He told you about his summer at his lake house with his family and friends, you told him about your trip to London with your cousins. He told you about how he first met Mack when she was drunk off her ass at a party back when she was still dating Brock, the only ex she ended on good terms with and is still friends with, and you told him about how she was not her drunkest at that party, and that one time you two snuck out of a party to have a lightsaber fight but didn’t have lightsabers so you used traffic cones. 

“You did not!” Quinn laughed. 

“We did!” you shouted over your laughs. You were definitely getting stares, but you didn’t care. “I beat her ass, too.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, quirking his eyebrow. 

“Oh yeah. I totally had the high ground.” 

Quinn walked you to your car at the end of the night. You two shut down the restaurant, neither one of you desired to leave. You boldly grabbed his hand as you started walking and were relieved when he looped your fingers together in response. 

“Did you have a good time?” Quinn asked you when you arrived at your car. 

“I really did. I’m not sure I want it to end,” you admitted. 

You wanted so badly to ask him to come over. But he told you that he wanted to give you a romantic date, not a pre-sex affair. He’s looking for something real. Something that isn’t just sex. 

“Me either,” he smiled. 

As you two looked at each other, your eyes started flickering from his to his lips. He noticed, but you knew that he was doing the same. 

Your hunger ended when Quinn finally leaned in. His hands slid down your waist and settled on your hips, pulling you closer to him. Yours went up and around his neck, happily content feeling the ends of his hair.

Quinn kissed you in a way that you’ve never been kissed before. It was soft. Sensual. It had you aching for more. The feeling that people describe as “sparks flying?” You were pretty sure this was it. 

The kiss wasn’t rough; it wasn’t filled with primal need. 

It left you breathless. Lightheaded. Warm. 

It was the type of kiss that told you there was more to him. And all you wanted to do was learn. 

“That was—“

“Don’t describe it,” Quinn cut you off in a whisper. He reached his hand out to cup your face, “Just feel it.” 

All you could do was nod your head. You felt your entire body quivering at his touch. 

Quinn smiled and opened up your car door for you, “Tell me when you get home?”

“Y-yeah. I will,” you stammered. You couldn’t stop looking at him. 

“Goodnight, Y/N. Drive safe!”

“Goodnight, Quinn,” you smiled. 

You watched him walk away in your rear view mirror, smiling madly. Quinn left you feeling like a giddy little girl. It was something that no one else has ever done. 

March 16, 2021

You were going on your fifth date with Quinn tonight, and Mack was swearing up and down that Quinn was going to make things official. 

“Y/N/N, trust me!” she said while dramatically shaking you by the shoulders. 

“I want to!” you laughed, shoving her off of you. “I just don’t want to get any hopes up. We’re going out to have a good time and that’s it!” 

“Hopes up you say?” Mack asked as she wiggled her eyebrows. “Does that mean you want Quinn to ask you? Do you, Y/N Y/L/N, WANT a boyfriend just mere weeks after saying you were done with dating forever?”

“I didn’t say forever!” 

“Alright!” she surrendered. “I’m keeping my mouth shut because I don’t want to jinx anything, but just know that I am a very happy girl right now!”

You shook your head at your best friend’s nonsense. Okay, maybe you were hoping what she was saying will turn out to be true tonight, and maybe you were liking the goodnight calls and good morning texts and mid day updates. And maybe you relish in the smile Quinn gives you when you stand at the glass during warm ups at his games while you wear his jersey. And maybe you’ve never felt like this before, and it was making you the happiest you’ve ever been. But you weren’t sure if it was love. Love was still a weary and scary concept for you at this point. But maybe… maybe this is pre-love? Maybe this is the build up. Maybe this is the jump before the fall. 

You weren’t scared of jumping.

Whatever it is, you’re pretty positive it’s too early for love. You’re just now open to the idea of love because of Quinn, so you certainly were skeptical at the notion of “love at first sight.�� Although, it’s been a little too long to count as “first sight.” Love at fifth date? Love at hundredth facetime? Call it what you want, but it still felt way too soon. 

You were still doing your makeup when there was a knock at the door, signaling that Quinn was here. 

“Mack, could you—“

“I’m already on it!” she cut you off, rushing down the stairs to open the door. 

You tried to finish up your mascara really quickly, but that only resulted in your dropping it and smearing some across your cheek. 

“Shit!” 

“Shit?” you heard Quinn ask. You gasped in surprise, and he just laughed as he approached you. He placed his hands on your cheeks and kissed the top of your head before taking a look at you, “Ahh. I see the source of the shit.”

“It’ll wipe off, it’s fine,” you shrugged. “I’ll just need five more minutes?” 

Quinn smiled, “Take all the time you need to feel happy.” 

If you were alone and that was a text, you’d probably be kicking your feet at Quinn’s comment. He didn’t say anything teasing that you take forever, he didn’t use the cliché “you look pretty without makeup” or whatever, he said that he wants you to feel happy with your appearance. You didn’t know why that felt more romantic than a compliment; it just did. He was focusing on your emotions and confidence. He was validating you. Validation and understanding feels a lot more intimate than a compliment about your appearance. 

“I’m ready!” you sing-songed as you climbed down the stairs. 

Quinn was standing at the bottom of the stairs with his hands behind his back and a soft smile on his face. 

You jumped from the fourth step down to the second step. You reached out gently to tilt Quinn’s face towards yours and leaned down to crash your lips against his. You stepped down to the final step to become level with when he deepened the kiss. He released one of his hands to place it at the small of your back in order to draw you in, but the other remained. 

“Whatcha hidin’, handsome?” you asked cheekily. 

Quinn’s other hand quickly whipped around in front of his center and revealed a bouquet of daisies and lavender. You gasped and kissed him quick, taking the bouquet from him and inhaling its sweet scent with a smile after your lips parted.

“They’re beautiful,” you told him. 

“They’re not the only thing,” he whispered. 

“You flirt,” you blushed. 

You both bid your goodbyes to Mackenzie and walked out the door. Quinn rushed slightly ahead of you to open up the passenger door for you before making his way to the driver's seat. It was a quick drive to the mini golf place, and it was filled with you two goofily singing along to the radio. 

When you got there, you were surprised at how many people and families there were. It was a Saturday night, but still. You didn’t know this many people went mini golfing at any given moment. 

You picked out a pink club, and Quinn grabbed a green one. He held out his hand for you to take, and for once, you didn’t feel weird holding somebody’s hand in public. It was a small act, but it was still a big deal for you. You used to do it with previous boyfriends, but that was because you felt like you had to in order to try and feel like you were in a normal relationship. You want to hold Quinn’s hand. You love the way your hand fits in his and how warm his hands are. You love how rough they feel compared to your soft ones. Just this simple action made you feel safe and less overwhelmed by the amount of people. It made you feel like it was just you and him. 

“Ready to lose, Y/L/N?” Quinn taunted you.

“Don’t be so cocky,” you teased back. “I’m a pro at this.”

“You said you haven’t been mini golfing in years!” he pointed out with a laugh. 

“I’m trying to speak me winning into the universe, Quintin!” 

Needless to say, you were terrible, but Quinn gave you two extra puts each round to try and get you more points. It didn’t make much of a difference for how badly he was beating you, but it made you feel good.

“What ever happened to letting the girl win?” you groaned. “Some gentleman you are.”

Quinn softly smiled and walked over to you. Placing his hands on the small of your back, he kissed you gently, “I’m sorry, baby. I just can’t fake sucking.”

You dramatically threw your head back, groaned, then gave him a pout when you looked back at him. Quinn laughed and kissed you again, effectively wiping the pout off your face.

This was also something big for you– kissing in public. PDA. You’ve never done that. You always pulled away or forced the kiss to be a quick peck instead. You were worried about people staring and judging. But not with Quinn. You didn’t care who was around, you wanted them to know that you were happy. 

Unsurprisingly, Quinn won. He cheered with his club in both hands being held above his head, sending you into a fit of giggles. 

“Stop parading around like you just won the Stanley Cup!” you shouted. 

Quinn whipped his head towards you in mock offense. He walked towards you and kissed you again, much more firmly this time, “I’m sorry you sucked.”

“It’s okay,” you chuckled. 

“I do believe me winning deserves a prize!”

“Oh yeah? And what did you have in mind?” you smirked. 

You were expecting his answer to be something along the lines of another kiss or going out for ice cream, but what he said proved your best friend to be correct.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked you softly. He was confident in his question. He had the biggest smile on his face that was filled with so much hope and admiration. 

“I’d love to,” you answered. 

Now Quinn really looked like he won the Stanley Cup. His eyes lit up brighter than you’ve ever seen them, and his smile looked like it hurt. You should know, because your smile was so big that it did hurt. Quinn hugged you so tightly that your feet kicked off the ground and he spun you in a circle. When he put you back down, he kissed you passionately. It was different than every other kiss you two have shared, given that is a small number since this was only your fifth date. This one meant more. This one said more. 

When he walked you to your door and kissed you goodbye, you reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him. He turned around slowly, and you knew that the look in your eyes said all that you wanted to say.

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

“Positive.”

Mackenzie was already in her room for the night, much to your relief. You and Quinn kissed all the way up the stairs and into your bedroom. The second your bedroom door closed; clothes began to be thrown off. He threw you on your back onto your bed like it was nothing, then he climbed on top of you and began to pepper kissed up your stomach, through your neck, across your jaw, until he finally reached your lips again. 

“Just tell me if you want me to stop,” he said low.

“Don’t stop,” you panted. “Please don’t stop.”

April 14, 2021

You were pretty sure you were feeling it. No, you knew you were feeling it. 

Love. 

You were feeling just like the movies and love songs and poems said– you were enamored by Quinn. You missed him so bad that it hurt when you weren’t with him, especially when he was on roadies during the season (you were selfishly glad that it’s over for the time being). You felt like the best version of yourself when he was around. But you were also learning that your definition of love was so much more than that.

“OH MY GOD! I KNEW IT WOULD HAPPEN! I KNEW IT!” Mackenzie screamed when you told her. 

“Alright!” you giggled. “You knew it, you did it, congratulations! Now how do I tell him? Do I wait for him to tell me? What if it goes away and I don’t–”

“Are you sure it’s love?” she cut you off.

“I am. It’s new, and it’s freeing, and it’s–agh! It’s perfect. It has to be,” you said, covering your hands over your face so that she couldn’t see how wildly you were blushing and grinning. 

Mack grabbed your wrists and yanked your hands off your face, “I don’t think that’s going away, babe! Now tell me! The deal was that you’d tell me what love is! Spill it! And don’t quote the movies!”

“I think love is different for everybody. I’m feeling the stuff that they say in the movies and the sonnets and the songs, but it’s so much more than that. Love is… wild. Love is like a never-ending joy ride with the windows down and your favorite songs blaring on the stereo. Love is like that feeling you get in your body when you hear a new song, and it absolutely consumes you to where you heat up and feel like you're vibrating. Love is feeling like you could do the impossible as long as your person is right there beside you. Love can feel like you’re flying.

“But love can also make you feel safe. Love is feeling at home with your person, no matter where you are. You could be in the backseat of a car, but if you were with your person? That could be home for the time being. Love is like that feeling of pride and relief when you deep clean your house for the first time in forever. Love is like sitting by the ocean and watching the waves crash against the sand, and none of the sand ends up in your shoes. 

“Loving Quinn feels like a breath of fresh air. Loving Quinn makes me feel like I finally know who I am and who I could be. Loving Quinn makes me feel alive for the very first time. It’s everything.”

Mack looked like she could burst into tears then and there. You were about to hug her when an all too familiar voice ceased your movements.

“Did you mean that?” 

You turned around so quickly that your head spun. There, standing at the edge of your living room, was Quinn.

“Yeah,” you whispered with a nod. “Every word.”

Quinn rushed towards you and cupped your face, slamming his lips onto yours. You heard Mack clap with glee, but you didn’t care. She was slipping away, and only you and Quinn existed in the world at this very moment.

“I love you,” you breathed when you two had to come up for air.

“I love you,” Quinn echoed. “You described it perfectly. I felt every word. I am helplessly, irrevocably, completely, and utterly in love with you. I’ll never stop saying it. Not now that I know what it means.”

“I didn’t believe in love before you. I didn’t know what love was. It’s you, Quinn. My love is yours, and only yours.”

The smile on Quinn’s face was contagious, but your face was already painted with one. You didn’t expect to fall in love, and you certainly didn’t expect to say it first. Maybe it was fate, maybe it was a god, maybe it was the stars aligning. You didn’t know why, but you did know that you were made to love Quinn Hughes alongside all of the other things you were made for. 

Love was real. And you can’t live without it. And you’re so glad that you learned that. 

———

reblogs appreciated! it helps spread the fic <3

[watchyourbuck]

Oh god okay here we go

Why must I go into heavy detail you ask? Well, I am actually unable to shut up so here it is them 10 TOP “there’s no chance this is a straight friendship” MOMENTS

“You can have my back any day” aka the enemies to lovers speedrun. The immediate feeling we’re supposed to get from the screen is jealousy. Buck is jealous of the new recruit because he’s hot, a medic, a veteran, whatever. I’ll give it to you children, he WAS jealous. But then they go on call and they get into immediate danger bc 911 is a drama and then Eddie’s very keen on being Buck’s partner. Nothing queer til then right? WRONG. Eddie’s line is pretty normal but the way Buck reacts isn’t. I have had my fair share of “huh this person I didn’t like is actually cool” moments but nEVER have I once sucked in a breath, forgot how to blink, rushed in my words OR stared at said person like I’d like for them to be my lover. Three points to Gayfindor.

“Is your son REALLY the reason you don’t date?” This line and the dialogue that follows makes absolutely no sense from the non-queer glass. Alright he asks bc he wants to know why two girls practically launched themselves at him and he declined (such a kind offer lmao) but… why are you standing so close? Why do you bump shoulders with him as you walk? Most importantly, what the FUCK does Eddie’s smirk mean after “they’re not my type either… not anymore.” Idk about you guys but when I’m not on the market I’m actually not in it 😀 and I don’t go around looking at my best friend like I’d consider fucking her (I’m actually kinda yikes about that thought bc she’s like my sister). Bottom line is: if you’re willing to fuck your best friend, there’s attraction. That scenes oozes attraction and I’d be willing to white glove challenge a body language reader.

The Tsunami. YES okay, there are far many moments in between but I also need to make this a somewhat readable list so here we go. We’re gonna pretend for a hot second Buck wants to save his best friend’s son, and not the child that he considers his own bc I’m tired. Let’s skip to the far end of this (be GrAtEfuL I’m skipping the whole sacrifice that this episode entailed. Buck was willing to die, to never sit down again if it meant looking for Chris [& the utter fear he has to face Eddie]. It’s a lot). Now, I do not OWN a child (thank god) but if I did, I wouldn’t be particularly comfortable with a simple friend from work taking care of them. They could be my very best friend from work and I’d still feel a little icky -at least nervous- about it. Yet Eddie not only takes Christopher back A F T E R the tsunami (Chris could’ve died and Eddie is nothing short of apprehensive), but he says ‘there’s no one I trust with my son more than you’. Um. Not his wife. Not his family (CHRIS’ family), not Abuela, not Tia Pepa. Buck. Who he… just met? Surely it isn’t bc he’s uncle buck… I don’t believe even Maddie has said that to Buck, where he’s actually, yknow, UNCLE BUCK. Co-parenting is not something done between a parent and a friend, and I know this shit bc my mom raised me with a few of her friends and guys,,, she never said that to any of them. Also Chris is practically never seen with anyone else from the 188firefam alone.

The Kitchen Scene™️. I have gone on rants about this before but truth be told THIS is the scene that conveys the MOST canonically sexual tension between them. We can joke about it all y’all want but this scene is unhinged. I don’t think Oliver and Ryan were aware that they should’ve been friends in this scene. The way the conversation shifts from apologetic sad puppy eyes to “you’re throwing your punches at the wrong guy” to I CAN TAKE YOU (???) you can what? “Oh you think?” “Oh I know” HELLO? Pls don’t even get me started on how Buck approaches Eddie, the way he’s puffy-chested, his hand on his belt, eyeing him up and down, nearly biting his lip, cocky grin,,,,, explain to me in hetero. I’m waiting😐 guys c’mon exPLAIN IT TO ME IN HETERO. The way Eddie glances to the side bc where’s Chris? And h o w he sips his beer right after, smirking, tiLTING His head. I’m sorry this is not straight in any way. I’m sorry you’re gonna have to accept this.

Clipboard Buck. Alright u got me!!! This one’s a lil silly, but so is my life, so it’s fair game. Clipboard Buck is annoying as fuck, he’s so fucking annoying. The entire firefam picks up on this, no one wants to be around,,,, except Eddie. You could argue that it’s bc he likes him as a friend and he’s just indulging …. 👁️👄👁️ sure but he also hides from Interim Captain Han soooo anyway what’s fun about this is how willing Eddie is to comply with everything he says. He’s basically twirling his hair, kicking his feet, smiling & blushing and “check!” 🧍🏽‍♀️ buck is kinky (that is canon e.g the ring cutter) and he gets high on authority and Eddie does backflips to meet his kinks. Exhibit 5 complete.

The Lawsuit Arc acka the first divorce era😔✊🏼. This one makes me rage a little bit because I get really upset at Buck for acting recklessly. Like baby let yourself HEAL. Anyway,,,, onto what brings us here 🥷🏼. It’s canon that the entire team is mad at Buck, they don’t really wanna bump into him, can’t really speak to him,,, but Eddie? Eddie’s filled with wrath. I cannot stress enough the fact that he uses Chris as an excuse “do you even know how much he misses you? how could you! you’re not here”. The way he expresses himself, and we’re choosing to ignore the fact that he HIMSELF misses Buck,, that’s how you talk to someone who has a responsibility with the child, not the fun coworker that randomly shows up @ your house with pizza every once in a while. “I couldn’t even call you to bail me out of jail”. He’s so u p s e t that for the first time they know each other he can’t rely on Buck when he’s hurting and in danger. And pls for the love of Jesus Christ my lord & savior don’t tell me that it’s a 118 thing bc he calls Ronda Rousey to come pick him up 🎅🏻 that grocery store scene is.. interesting.

Eddie Underground. Alright we’re getting serious now guys,,, might as well put on your thinking caps on this one. We all know the story, this isn’t a latest ep recap soooo The wAY Buck’s the ONLY ONE who desperately calls Eddie’s name when he’s fallen underground, amidst the heavy rain and dirt. Listen to me: he starts digging with his hands. With his bare hands I tell you!!!! 😩 Bobby has to physically pull him back as he cries on his lap. Buck is a smart man, he wouldn’t do something that’s completely illogic, he knows he can’t dig him out but he’s so desperate. His voice breaks, he can’t breathe, he becomes impulsive, reckless, impatient. Do I need to remind y’all the reason he wasn’t the one getting strapped to go underground??? “You’re not going down there. So we can have two cut off ropes?” Everyone knows he’s willing to sacrifice his integrity for Eddie bc his life doesn’t make sense without him. “We’ll get him back for you”

The Shooting + “I’ve made u my son’s dad lol”. When Eddie gets shot the world freezes for Buck. He’s left standing there, staring as Eddie’s blood splatters on him. He has to be tackled down. Even then, he’s unable to move, to breathe. He just looks as he bleeds out, and theN he snaps back into reality, bracing himself to go under the truck (foregoing his own trauma - I’ve said this before) and preparing for the amount of strength it’s gonna take to pull him under it. He screams at him to hold on, and later when he manages to pull him inside the truck he tells him he needs him to hang on. He rips his uniform open, he cries and screams,,, then Eddie wakes up, and he asks BUCK if HES okay. Bc he saw blood :( also as @butraura pointed out, he can’t die if Buck’s dying bc what about Chris? He only lets himself drift off when he knows Buck’s okay. Then we got The Will Reveal™️ also so unhinged. “You knew I wouldn’t turn it down” right what is this guys??? That was a year ago. He added him to his will A yEaR aGo. Idk about y’all but I haven’t added my friends to my will😀 also Buck’s the one who tells Chris ??? (I’m being very brief on this subject). Also “Because, Evan” shut up🧎🏽‍♀️

& 10. The Lightning Strike + “She sees me”. I’m doing these together bc I haven’t watched this episodes yet but I’m an addict so I’ve spoiled myself to the brim. The way Eddie screams Buck’s name, the way he saves him, “do more” h e l l o ?? The absolute PAIN in Eddie’s eyes, “you died Buck” “3 minutes and 17 seconds”, “his humor hasn’t changed” & the fact that he listens to Buck on his super genius math theory. And then Buck goes and says “I feel like Natalia sees me” ok. I mean my feelings mean nothing but Eddie’s face ??? That’s a man that knows he’s waited too long.

I rest my case. I’m missing a lot of scenes (like a lot omg Abby comes back, Buck under the Truck, Buck vomiting blood, the Taylor Arc) & y’all can argue in the comments about them, or add shit or try to dismantle mine, honestly the floor is yours idc wHat u do, just know you won’t convince me otherwise 🤸🏽these two are in love & that’s pretty much that on THAT. PERIOD.

[wisteria-cherry]

in which you have an argument, but you’re not sure what to do

“i can’t believe you! peter, that was personal!” you groan, dragging a hand down your face.

“i’m sorry, okay?”

“some apology!”

“how was i supposed to know?” peter frowned.

“it’s not exactly something you want go around telling everybody!” you snap.

“it was james too!”

“and i’m pissed off at him, too!” you exclaim. “why is it so hard to keep a secret, merlin!” you whirl around on your heel, storming off. your destination: the library, where sirius and remus, the less problematic marauders, were studying. by studying, of course, you meant that remus was trying to tutor sirius but sirius (ironically) didn’t take anything seriously.

you storm into the library, making a beeline for the two boys. you’re about ten feet away when you stop. you just had an argument. you’re mad at two of their best mates. and you’re coming to them for support? would they support you? they’d take the side of their closer friends.

sirius looked up and broke into a grin.

“hey, over here, love!” he called, waving you over. remus looked up and made eye contact with you before frowning. he could tell something was up.

you turn away. you don’t want to cause a rift in their friend group— your friend group. and you definitely didn’t want to cause any more drama that already ensued in the day to day life of the marauders— sirius being melodramatic, james pining for lily, peter insisting he do everything james does. at least remus wasn’t dramatic.

you make your way to the gryffindor common room, where you plopped down in your favorite seat— the loveseat in the corner by the fire. it was the comfiest spot there, but people never really used it because it was somewhat isolated from the rest. you take a book from the side table and begin to read, not seeing what else you could possibly do. reading was relaxing, anyway, so it helped you get a hold on your anger.

the book was fascinating. it took a deep dive into the science and magic behind wand making, how each material and each creature contributed so much to the very makings of the wand and why was sirius there.

“sirius.” you look up. “what brings you here?”

“i oughta ask the same.” sirius set his hands on his hips, pouting. “i can’t believe you just looked at us and left! we aren’t that bad, you know.”

“oh.” you look back to your book, trying to figure out what to say and half hoping the book would help. however, it turned out you didn’t need to. sirius flopped down on the couch, his legs spread and one of his arms resting on the back of the couch. one slip and it’d be around your shoulders.

“well?” sirius pressed.

“huh?”

“aren’t you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“nothing. nothing’s wrong.” you answer, perhaps a bit too quickly as you return to your book.

“i know i look it, but i’m not stupid, lovely.” sirius raised an eyebrow. “and you’re not as good a liar as you think.” your shoulders fall from their tense state, defeated.

“i got in an argument.” you admit. “with peter. and kind of james.”

“kind of james?” sirius snickered. “how’s that work?”

“it was regarding him. and stuff he said.” you shrug. sirius lets his arm drop onto your shoulders, something all but uncommon in your friendship. “you know that… thing i told you all?”

“the secret thing?”

“see, you get it’s a secret!” you exclaim. “but… peter and james didn’t. they told people. everyone.”

“now that’s not fair.” sirius hummed, nudging you closer. you didn’t fight it.

“it wasn’t even that significant, though.” you bite down on your lip, feeling it tremble. oh, merlin. you were gonna cry. please, you begged whatever higher power was out there, don’t cry. not in front of sirius. but you couldn’t deny the tears that were welling up.

“oi. darling, hey.” sirius frowned, before pulling you even closer into a hug that you didn’t dare protest. you were practically in his lap. “c’mere, princess.”

“i was horrid.” you tried to say without sputtering. tears were already running down your cheeks, but never made it to your chin because sirius’ shirt soaked them up. “i was shouting at peter, i—“ you hiccuped, trying to stop crying but failing miserably. you instead chose to grip sirius’ shirt that you already felt guilty for soiling. sirius listened intently in a rare moment of him being quiet.

“peter was just doing what james did. he always does that, it’s just how peter is.” you muttered as sirius ran his fingers through your hair, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

“mm, he does do that,” sirius agreed.

“and it’s not james’ fault either. it’s not his fault i never said it was a secret. i should’ve. he talks, i know he talks.” you ramble as sirius did his best to calm you down. it was working. in roughly fifteen minutes, you were simply laying in sirius’ arms, not bothering to try and explain what was wrong.

“feeling any better?” sirius asked as he felt your breathing go back to normal. you look up at him, wiping away the last of your tears as you nod.

“yeah. sorry about that.” you mumble. sirius only smirked.

“sorry? love, i just got to hold you in my arms, kiss the top of your head, and feel your hair, and you didn’t even hit me. in fact, you held me, too.” sirius informed you, shit-eating grin on maximum smugness. you instantly revert back to your normal self, shoving him away.

“you git!” you exclaim. “i can’t believe you!”

“after all this time?” sirius grinned. “wow, i thought you knew me, darling.”

“don’t ‘darling’ me!” you huff. “merlin, you’re incorrigible.”

“you love me.”

“no more than the rest of you lot.”

[ewanmitchelll]

Imagine Taylor Swift’s songs (II): Bad Blood.

Imagine you were Aemond's good friend when politics turned you in enemies. What then?

Warnings: drama, angst, smut--fluff endings as always tho.

***

• Before the War

The beginnings are usually sweet, colored with a degree of naivety. These can be also the high of peace, but many forget that to keep it at all costs, should every single being be prepared for wars, regardless of positions. For wars and death walk hand in hand, seizing every life without considering rank nor gold.

As previously said, the start is always embellished with hopes, but shades of grey are already painting the walls of the Red Keep. Aemond Targaryen knows best than all that his presence is not desired by his melancholic mother or his phantom father.

He’s heading to the dragon’s cave, prompted for another ride at Vhagar when he tumbles onto you.

“Lady Y/N”, he whispers your name with a hint of surprise. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here. Shouldn’t you be at court?”

“No one would notice if I left for a moment”, you say with a sigh. “I went to the gardens to write some poems.”

Aemond is quickly distracted by your presence. You were once playmates as children, but even now as young adults the interests remain the same. For now, Vhagar occupies the second place.

“I remember how well you used to write”, he offers you a smile, pleased to see a faint shade of pink in your cheeks. “May I read a few? Perhaps we could go back to the tree?”

In reference to the spot you used to spend time as children, you agree at once. And there you two go.

“I don’t think I write well, my prince.”

“Aemond”, he cuts you gently. “You can call me by my name.”

Another exchange of smiles.

“Aemond, you flatter me more than I deserve.”

Once reaching the said tree, the prince takes hold of the parchment you hoped to keep to yourself, ignoring your protests. Eventually, though, you go silent, watching his reactions in agony. For he was always able to hold his emotions back, so you constantly found difficult to read him.

But alas! If only you could dive into his intimate thoughts! Then you’d find a rising delight in his chest because the rebel prince feels the same thing for you.

However you’d never know how he truly feels…. Because at this very moment you are discovered by Ser Criston Cole and your father.

You don’t know, but this is the last time you ought to see your cherished prince.

***

• Enmity.

So take a look at what you’ve done… ‘Cause baby now we got bad blood.

You are soon married to Lord H/N of the House Tully. Obliged to move to the Riverlands, you are unhappily tied to a very old man who’s been living with his mistress for decades. The marriage, apparently, is to force an alliance that—you are to discover soon—is meant to support Rhaenyra Targaryen. Therefore, by chance and by marriage, you are now associated to the Black party.

There are, however, some good advantages as you are left on your own. If you do your duties straight as mother to your stepchildren—who are older than you—, look well after your household and not meddle in your husband’s business, you can practice your archery, ride freely and even sharp your mind through accessing the library.

It’s not that bad in practice—your marriage hasn’t been consummated, mostly because Lord H/N is not very, eh, powerful in bed, a secret you vowed to keep—, but you feel lonely. Your friends are now a memory of your life at court and people at Riverlands could be very… strict somewhat.

What’s worse: where is Aemond? Why hasn’t he written to you?

Melancholy starts to crawl over your heart and mind despite the peaceful, almost boring life you lead. Until you perceive a dark shadow creeping over the clouds.

You’d think Lord Aemond came to rescue you, but your heart breaks when you see a dark haired lady on his back, waiting as he helps her leaving Vhagar carefully.

Your heart parts before the view. Why’d you assume he corresponded your feelings, stupid girl? You wish to vanish, a natural response in these circumstances, but you are discovering a little too late that these are trying times.

The gates of the castle are now open and you are forced to act on your husband’s behalf next to his son and heir. After all, duty is one of the mottos of your new house and you never failed to fulfill it so far.

When Aemond finds you, however, he freezes. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting to see you there.

My lady, you look horribly sad. Where has your freedom gone?

A thought he doesn’t bother to voice.

“Lord”, he greets your stepson cooly, and you in the same tone. “Lady.”

“Prince Aemond”, your husband’s elder child, H/N, doesn’t let you act as a bridge between the two parties. “We do not welcome you here.”

A shadow of displeasure crosses the prince’s face.

“By denying me thus you are proceeding with treason, Lord Tully. Is this how we ought to be?”, the silver haired Targaryen prince acts as if you are not there. Unlike him, though, you have never been good in disguising your sentiments. “You are not in position to support the Usurper. Harrenhal is mine.”

And he indicates Lady Alys Rivers as proof. You don’t like her arrogance, her looks nor the influence she exercises over him. Or perhaps all of your judgement comes from jealousy.

Regardless, you feel brutally betrayed.

“Bend your knee, otherwise you shall burn.”

You pale before the prince’s threat. It’s when a sudden courage—or perhaps a moment of recklessness—rises in your spirit. For your stepson might hesitate before Aemond’s treason, but you would not.

Therefore, you take a sword from the young man—who is older than you—and step towards the prince, himself taken aback by your behavior.

You were never the one to act so imprudently, my dear Y/N.

“What is this?”

“Where is duty?”, you yell at him, eyes puddled with tears as you raise the sword to him. “Where is sacrifice? For years you’ve been nothing but a spoilt man who followed freely what your own heart commanded you to! No burden to carry, you play with whores and take what’s not yours so carelessly?”

“Lady Y/N, I strongly recommend you to be reasonable”, says Aemond, cooly, but in his eyes there is shock. You are the last person he’d expect to find resistance.

“Reasonable? To whom? You threat my stability, my family, for what purpose, lord?!”

You press your sword against him, but he makes no move, skeptical about your intentions. Surely, you’d not harm him, not when he read your soul not so many moons ago.

But something eclipses the goodness in your heart. And though the world seems to spin slower, Aemond doesn’t let guards to interfere.

These beats of a dark heart, use basslines to replace you. Take time and erase you, love don't hear no more, no, I don't fear no more. Better yet, respect ain't quite sincere no more.

“Is this your choice?”, he frowns at you, a hand resting on his waist, ready to unsheathe the sword. “Do you opt for enmity?”

Is this what you’ve become? His eyes yell silently at yours, but you are blind to such accusation. And Aemond knows he’s the cause of it.

“Madame!”, lord H/N thinks wise to interfere. “It is unwise to opt for enmity!”

“He is our enemy now!”, you turn at the stupid boy. “He’s been waging wars, burning castles and fucking whores!”

Aemond doesn’t excuse himself from such offenses, but the same cannot be said of lady Alys.

“My lady, these are not manners of a woman who is expected to rule Riverrun”, she smirks. “But since you are putting your family at risk, perhaps a cage would do you good.”

“She doesn’t mean to”, the redhead male insists anxiously, taking from you the opportunity to defend yourself. “We’ll bend the knee, lord, if you spare us. I’m sure you’ll understand the advantages that comes from our loyalty.”

By now you feel double betrayed. Aemond, the man you loved, shows off his power over you and chooses a whore to accompany him everywhere. Lord H/N, the one son you judged reasonable, does anything he can in his father’s absence to retain some influence.

You are useless. And yet you are too proud to let tears show the path for defeat. Nonetheless, even that is better than to burn in flames. After all, you live to honor this family with the duty you’ve been taught.

Therefore you are silent. Aemond reads all that has not been said. Part of him chooses to amend what he judges to be misunderstandings, but his conscience knows precisely why you behaved the way you did.

A lioness’s pride when broken is worse than hearing a ghost’s haunting. So he thinks, taking in consideration your ties with the Lannisters, in spite of you belonging to a minor house.

***

• War

Now we got problems. And I don't think we can solve 'em. You made a really deep cut…

A cage is a cage even if it doesn’t look like one. To consider weaving revenge is useless. Despite the early disagreements with your husband in light of recent events, with now war openly declared between Aegon and his sister Rhaenyra, all you do now is focus in your womanly doings, which is looking after your new home, trying to amend relations with your stepson and so it goes.

Time begins to fly, albeit slowly. You haven’t produced any heir, but to your stepchildren your allegedly infertility is welcoming news. Ironically, this is when they start to improving relations with you.

Forgotten by your family, though, you seem forcibly content with yourself when news arrive that Lord Aemond desires to have a feast with the Tully’s. His unwanted arrival, especially regarding his royal status, means that you should dress beautifully and play the role to perfection.

“And if you point the sword once more, I’ll gladly remove your privileges”, so your husband warns you.

You agree. What else could you do? Like a creature in jail, you’ll be exhibited to enemies as if you are some sort of war prize.

Before the feast begins, though, Aemond needs a conversation with you first. He would not admit, naturally, that he’s been dreaming about you—and such dreams might reflect well his remorse in his behaving towards you. Yet, something should be done.

When you meet him in a private quarter destined to important guests, you are dressed in your best clothes. Your y/c hair is tied in a fashion braid, but your gown is red and reinforces your curves. Aemond’s eyes discreetly undress you, and the idea leaves the man to an almost bone he quickly controls.

“Lady Tully”, he begins the conversation softly, greeting you regally from his seat. He wears something to keep his lack of an eye in secret, dressing dark shade of green robes. His silver hair falls loose behind his back, giving the prince a royal look.

“Prince Aemond”, you echo his coldness, taking a seat once he indicates with a nod of his head. “I pray your journey has been safe and well.”

Aemond sees you well and part of him wishes to take you in his arms and tell you all that he never could. But this isn’t the time yet.

“Indeed I did, thank you.”

You ask the servants to fetch yourselves some wine and fruits.

“What’s the need to talk to me alone like this?”

Band-aids don’t fix bullet holes. You say sorry just for show. If you live like that, you live with ghosts.

Aemond studies you, not responding you immediately. He strokes his chin, playing with his fingers on table.

“I needed to see you.”

You scoff.

“Did you, now?”

“Yes.”

You don’t say a word. Atmosphere is heavy with tension. Aemond, sitting on the edge side of the table, watches you with his intent eyes.

“So much has happened since that day”, he begins to say. And it’s when he shows his sapphire eye. “I lost an eye, Y/N.”

For the very first time, you show some reaction.

“And because of it you sought war?”

It’s when he closes his fist and hits on the table. But you are not frightened by his temper, familiar with it.

“I did what I had to do! I was humiliated!”, and now staring into your eyes, he adds: “I thought you would understand that!”

“That is the difference between us, Aemond. Content never makes amends of broken things. It only worsens it”, you speak softly.

He shakes his head, skeptically.

“You speak like a fool.”

“You underestimate me”, you retort. “Like most men do.”

“I am not like most men”, he stares at you and now you are able to read his emotions.

“You should not, but by looking for battles you presented me with wars.”

Aemond sighs heavily, impatiently so. But he is not ready to give you up yet. This bad blood would have to cede.

***

• Winds of Spring.

You are riding by yourself early this morning. Dressed in red, you take this time to enjoy yourself. To have some peace. It’s when you spot him.

“Aemond”, you freeze before seeing him. Your heart races and your first instinct is to turn your horse and ride away.

But you dismount instead.

“Y/N”, he walks to you, distressed. “Run with me.”

“What?”, you pale before his suggestion. “What are you saying?”

“Fuck this war. Fuck them all”, he takes your hand with one all the whilst delivering you the old parchment. “I remember this.”

As you take it and open it, you read the poem about your prince of spring. Tears rise to your eyes and you stare at him in disbelief.

“You’ve kept this.” It’s not a question.

“I have, yes. I’ve never had the chance to say I love you too, my princess. But your father swept you away from my sight. I had no idea where you were… I was forced to follow my duty to my family”, he explains in a whisper.

You lean to cup his face with both hands.

“Oh my dear Aemond. But what about lady Alys?”

“She was just a trophy of my conquests”, he murmurs. “This isn’t about her. It’s about you.”

And without waiting further for your response, the silver haired prince takes you in his arms and presses his lips against yours. You don’t resist him, finally letting love blossom from hatred and frustration.

“I love you, my prince of spring.”

“I love you, my summer princess”, he smiles at you with the purest devotion. “Let us leave this life behind. This world is not for us.”

As much as you want to, you hesitate.

“I am still a married woman, Aemond”, you smile weakly, sadness evident in your eyes.

“Fuck them”, he pulls you against him. “They won’t dare to reclaim you anyway. My brother’s on the throne, therefore, we can rely there shall be no uprising against his authority. Less so against his brother’s.”

When you look into his eyes, you know you see someone so similar like you, a mirror of your soul.

“I came to release my lady from this golden cage”, the prince says, taking your hands and there kissing each. “Be my wife, lady. It’s all I ask for.”

You smile down at him.

“When have I ever refused you anything, my lord?”

And this is how it ends. A princess freed by her prince. You are finally able to be yourself.

***

• Epilogue

You cling onto your husband’s arms, ignoring the scandal you left behind, which had your name erased from the Tully’s records, but added to the Targaryen’s.

Politics aside, you are now Lady Targaryen by marriage, but what does it matter when he loves you so dearly, so intently every day?

Harrenhal is yours, but mostly important is his. As you watch him sleep, you prepare to wake him up with naughty intentions. As you begin to kiss his shoulder, you use one hand to caress his face, his neck, not stopping until you reach his manhood. Praising the Gods for his nude state, you do not need to slow down before you start to stimulating him, all the whilst your kisses go to his neck and more.

“Mm…” the prince groans, not entirely awake nor fast asleep. “My lady…”

You feel your own body react in response, but this is about him, you want him to come undone in the first moment of the day.

As your delicate fingers play with his now erected member, your lips move slowly downwards and now Aemond’s eyes are starting to open. And his eyes go wide when seeing what you are about to do.

“My lady, what have I turned you into?”

You give him a mischievous look.

“Good morrow, husband.”

And just like that you take him with your mouth. You still have in mind when, right after taking you as his wife, he enjoyed being your first man. How he touched you, making you discover every bit of a sensual pleasure you’ve only dared to know in books. You took such a linking in these domestic activities that the fire of dragon has you burning alive.

“Y/N!”, he groans louder, properly awake this time. “You are such a good lass. You learned so quickly. Oh!”

But as good as this is, Aemond does not intend to release his seed on your mouth, so hence why he throws blankets away and gently rises you, turning you under his strong body.

“No, lady. I have a better place to seed you”, he smirks at you, pleased to make you blush as he lifts your hands above your head and starts to kiss you fervently.

Aemond is well aware you like to submit to him easily, and he dominates you promptly. He finds his equal, and it shows in every part of this marriage. But in truth, as his body now tangles with yours, he knows that he’s been tamed by such a damsel.

Little wonder why is that in two weeks you are about to discover you have conceived. And a long list of children will be written by a surprised chronicler of King Aegon II’s reign.

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

Chapter 9

oh god oh fuck he's back

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

Hey Byakuya I'm glad you had your little reconciliation moment. We're still in a killing game though so don't forget

There is not as much of a focus on the other chars...trying to change that for the future because they're just as fun to write

Toko, girl...I do love Toko as a character but as a person she does some questionable stuff. This hasn't changed for this fic

@moonlighttogami betaread this!!

Content warning tags: Monokuma shows up to move the plot. I'm not sure what to tag this one with to be honest...canon compliance stressful events I guess?

< previous - from start - next >

“So you guys are…like, better now?”

It’s Asahina who asks this, walking boldly up to where he’s sitting at breakfast the next morning. He raises an eyebrow at her, setting down the piece of toast that Makoto had delivered him.

“What on earth do you mean?” He asks right back. He has the feeling of eyes, following his every movement. It’s annoying, but he supposes it makes sense; being locked up in a building with no new information meant the common masses would be slavering for entertainment. Relationship drama, or gossip thereof, was one way to sate that need.

“Oh, you know…you guys seemed like you were arguing before,” She says casually, rocking on her heels. “Like, you would leave any time he was in the same room, you wouldn’t talk to him, and he stopped bringing you breakfast…” She trails off, voice ending in a pointed lilt.

“I don’t know what assumptions you’re making, but I’m not interested in feeding your delusions.” He replies coolly. Let them draw their own conclusions. “Why not bother Makoto about this?”

“What do you think they’re doing?” She jerks her chin behind her. Makoto is surrounded on all sides by Yasuhiro, Owada…and Ishimaru, who for some reason seemed oddly friendly, especially with Owada. The weight of three, overbearing personalities seemed to be physically crushing the boy, as he tries to avoid Mondo’s belting, burlish questions by ducking into his cereal.

He wonders if Makoto was looking at him, probably making pleading eyes for assistance, and purposely looks away. He quietly congratulates himself for his forward thinking; after waking up some time before seven (warm and tangled up in sheets and limbs, and with his internal clock thrown entirely off-course), he immediately kicked Makoto out, shoving the groggy boy bodily out of his room, specifically to avoid drawing this kind of unnecessary speculation.

(He worried, afterwards, about whether he had inadvertently ruined their recently repaired deal. But then Makoto said ‘good morning’ when he entered the cafeteria, and then brought him breakfast as if nothing had ever happened in the first place. And suddenly, it felt somewhat foolish of him to have been concerned in the first place.)

“Like I said. Draw your own conclusions.” He hums, lifting up his mug for a sip of coffee. It was bitter and watery, but there’s some slight improvement from before; his constant hassling of Ishimaru must have yielded results. “Is that all? Can you leave now?”

Asahina wanders off, apparently annoyed that he won’t reveal anything more. With her absence, he suddenly becomes aware of a presence behind him, and as he sets down his mug, he manages to identify the person by smell. 

In the time since becoming blind, it seemed that his nose had sharpened, though that wasn’t necessarily a pleasant adjustment. He sighs, “What, Fukawa.”

The shuffling footsteps that had been inching steadily closer to him stop, then scurry off. What a strange one. He suspected that she was of the same crowd as Fujisaki, an admirer that has confused expected appreciation of superiority for romantic infatuation. For the time being, she was still relatively harmless, and somewhat useful in how attentive she was, cleaning up after him at mealtimes. He could have Makoto chase her off later…somehow or another.

Breakfast was drawing to a close. People began putting away their dishes, meandering towards the exit. Byakuya stands up and begins walking towards the library, and not long after he enters the hallway does he hear the sound of footsteps, sneakers squeaking to catch up to him, and allows himself a small smile.

___

Ding dong, bing bong.

He pauses outside of his room door, looking up in the direction of the sound. How odd, but he didn’t think it was ten PM already…he’d been very careful to have Makoto pay attention to the time on his wristwatch, so that they would leave the library with ample time to spare. He glances over his shoulder, and sees Makoto standing in the middle of the hallway, staring confusedly at the nearest speaker.

“Ahem! School announcement, school announcement.” Monokuma’s voice grates from the speakerphone. “Nighttime is quickly approaching, but before it arrives... All students, please gather in the gym immediately. Emergency! Emergency!”

This…could only spell trouble.

Around them, their peers were beginning to peek out of their rooms. Some of them seemed to be trembling. A clamor of anxiety was beginning to build, people voicing their worry for what could be coming next.

“I-It’s not a b-b-body, right?” He hears someone stutter behind him, along with the sound of audible counting.

“No. We’re all accounted for.” Kirigiri's voice cuts through the hubbub. “But we better get moving. It’s not a good idea to defy him here and now.”

Her words help snap people into action. He walks on ahead, ignoring Makoto, who had begun to drift over to him. He still needed to maintain some semblance of normality, after all, and having the other boy hover over him too much would grow too annoying. That conversation from breakfast was still on his mind.

The gymnasium is the same as he last remembers it, save for the removal of Enoshima’s body. From what he can tell, even the floorboards that had been pierced through have been replaced. How meticulous. He wonders if it was Monokuma that took care of the repair, and is struck by the sudden ridiculous image of the bear toddling around with a box of tools and some wooden blanks before wondering if there was something wrong with his head beyond his eyesight.

Speaking of Monokuma, the insufferable toy wasn’t here yet. The others murmur among each other, uneasy and on edge.

“What could he possibly want?” Ishimaru wonders aloud. His unusually relaxed, easygoing demeanor from earlier today was gone, replaced with the stiff, high-energy nervousness that he usually displayed around Monokuma.

“Indeed. What might await us this time?” Celeste hums, calm as ever.

Nothing good, I’m sure. He thinks to himself. But really, there was only one possibility that was in his mind.

“It’s likely a new motive.” He says, and at that, a hush falls over the group. They all knew what that meant.

“A-a-a-” Yamada trembles where he stands. “A new motive?!”

“Nooo…not again!” Yasuhiro moans, hands fisting in his own hair. “And not after the earthquakes last night!”

The ripple of anxiety that had been running through the group is interrupted by confusion. “...Earthquakes?” Makoto asks.

“Yeah! There was, like, a lot of rumbling last night.” The clairvoyant nods emphatically, hair bouncing like the branches of a tree. “I was sitting around in the main hall last night, meditating, when I suddenly heard a lot of, like, loud booms and stuff. I totally thought it was construction or something at first.”

“Construction…?” Asahina tilts her head. “Would it be the mastermind trying to build something?”

“I mean, I don’t know if it was construction for sure. It was just, like, kinda loud, you know?” He waves his hands, as if trying to support just how ‘loud’ it was by movement alone. “Like, I’m surprised no one else heard it!”

“The rooms are all soundproof.” Kirigiri interjects now. “Most of the rest of us were in our rooms by ten o’clock.”

“Y-yeah, I know, but- wait, does this make me seem suspicious? But no one’s even dead!” The few shreds of interesting information he had to offer were gone, and now all he spewed were inane words again. “I just lost track of time and was staring off into space! Serious!”

They continue to prattle on, and Byakuya tunes them out. Construction noises…he’s not sure what it could imply. Nothing good, surely, if there’s been no sign of the rescue that Asahina had talked about earlier, then that meant the mastermind’s domain extended past the mere limits of the school - the noises Yasuhiro heard were also supportive of that.

“Hey hey heyy, everyone!! What’s everyone talkin’ about?”

A voice pierces the air, and they turn just in time to see Monokuma vaulting onto the podium. It’s a cartoonish sight, but Byakuya feels tense, an uneasy chill building at the base of his neck. And judging by the sudden stilling of the others around him, it seemed that he wasn’t alone in this reaction.

“What Hiro heard wasn't the sound of construction...but it could have been an explosion!” The thing laughs. “Or maybe a machine gun! Puhuhu...That can kinda sound like construction in a way!”

“What are you talking about…?” Makoto asks, and Monokuma rolls over in another fit of giggles.

“Ah-ah-ah! You won’t get that out of me so easily! You might as well try gutting me for stuffing first!” It wags a paw at them. “It’s a secret little secret, y’hear?? And speaking of secrets…”

It digs behind its back for a moment, and seemingly out of nowhere, produces a stack of what looks like large, blank, white cards, fanned out in its paws like a blackjack hand. “Ta-dah!!”

Byakuya fights the urge to squint. Subtly, he steps quietly over to Makoto’s side. “What’s it holding,” He hisses quietly.

“Envelopes…with our names on them?” As Makoto responds in a whisper, Monokuma tosses the envelopes, and they scatter over the floor.

“Everyone pick up yours!” The headmaster orders, and a few people hesitantly obey. “If you don’t, you’ll regret it~!”

Damn. Byakuya stares at the mess of papers scattered around them. He could crawl on hands and knees for a million years, and never find it… “Why should we?” He snarks, glaring at Monokuma. “What’s this all about, anyways?”

“Ohh, good question, little heir!” The bear nods, like a pleased teacher contemplating an enthusiastic student’s question. “Well, if you don’t want to hurry and grab your envelope just yet, I suppose I’ll give you an explanation. You see, I’m a bit bored these days…every single day is so blah and humbug, you know? I’m suuuree you understand!” It waddles, kicking at a few of the envelopes at its feet. “Gosh, it’s got me so frustrated, I’m about to start tugging all my threads out…that’s how bad I want some stimulation, y’hear?! Something rife with danger and intrigue!!”

With those words, Byakuya feels that dread, cold and dripping, crawling down his back. Somewhere behind him, Owada snarls. “The fuck’re you getting at? Spit it out!”

“Patient, be paa-tient! Goodness, it’s not good to be so angry all the time!” Monokuma shakes its head. “But I’m a good headmaster, so I suppose I’ll just go ahead and be frank for my eager lil’ students. Y’see, it’s taking too long for another blackened to show up, and I’m getting so, so, sosososo bored…so, I’ve come up with a new way to motivate you all!” It twirls, and gestures once more towards the envelopes. “This time, I’ve collected up some of everyone’s most embarrassing memories and secrets! And I wrote them up and put them into pretty little envelopes for you all to read through!”

The chill in his back turns icy, and his gaze flicks down to the envelopes scattered on the hardwood floor. Around him, he can hear others diving for their envelopes, snatching them up hurriedly - but he can’t move. Even if he tries, he won’t find it - he can only hope that Makoto had found his, and wouldn’t betray him by reading it. Or else…

And others have started reading already. He hears gasps, terror, disbelief, the crumpling of paper. Before him, Monokuma looks up, tilting its face in an impression of curiosity.

“Oh? What’s this? Not moving?” It reaches out and pats at his knee, and he takes an involuntary step back, disgusted. “What, are you Jesus or something? Free of sin? You think you have no dark or dirty secrets to hide?”

Ironically, it was this stupid taunt that brought him back from his growing panic. Calm down, he snaps at himself. He’d do himself no favors making a fool of himself here.

He forces his face into a sneer. “I’m not the kind of person to be moved to kill by such a pathetic motive.” He says loudly, so everyone else could hear. “You’ll have to do better to make me participate in such a miserable excuse for a game.”

“Still not impressed, I see? Such a shame…” Monokuma looks down, apparently unhappy by this declaration. “And I worked so hard on these too…oh well. Whether or not you look at it matters, if you don’t mind someone else reading it…right, Miss Fukawa?” 

There’s a squeak. Byakuya’s head jerks to the right, where he remembers seeing Fukawa last. Sure enough, the girl is hastily shoving something back into an envelope - one of two envelopes, that she has clutched in her hands-

He’s crossed the space between them before he’s even aware of what’s happening, and grabs the envelope out of her hands, fingers crumpling the paper. Before him, Fukawa flinches and cows, shrinking down. “U-um, I didn’t-I was just…”

He glares, and her words die out. Behind him, Monokuma cackles. “Puhuhu! Oh, that’s too good!” It rolls on the floor with laughter, feet kicking merrily. “This is just like a reality drama! …But, it’s not what I’m after.”

The toy wiggles its legs for a moment, then toddles back onto its feet. “Everyone! You have twenty-four hours! If no one is blackened by then, I’ll reveal everyone’s secret to the whole, wide world! Wouldn’t that be so embarrassing??”

“We’d never kill over something like this!” Makoto’s voice pipes up. He’s standing there, hands clenched at his sides. “Sure, this is something I’d rather not want people to know, but…it’s not something to take someone else’s life over!”

There’s a brief pause, and then a small chorus of agreement. “He’s right!” Ishimaru shouts. “Your plan is doomed from the start! No one’s going to murder someone for this kind of thing!”

“Oh, is that what you really think?” The air in the room seems to chill by several degrees. Monokuma’s voice, previously playful and lighthearted, suddenly takes a sinister tone. “Well…whatever! If that’s the case, I’ll be revealing anyone’s secrets in twenty-four hours anyways, to make myself feel a little better. Everyone…farenotwell!”

And he turns, waddles off, and disappears into the depths of the gym.

__

In the end, they decide to simply ignore it.

Perhaps ‘ignore’ is the wrong turn of phrase here. Byakuya thinks bitterly, as he watches the other begin walking out. In truth, they had hesitantly tried suggesting sharing secrets now, to eliminate the motive, but several (including himself) were strongly opposed to the idea.

In the end, Ishimaru sent them off with a hesitant, awkward suggestion to ‘not act too hastily’, which was about as much as he could offer in this situation. Byakuya grabs Fukawa’s shoulder as she begins to leave, feeling his skin crawl at the very touch of her.

“Ah- huh?! Um…” Her head jerks, between him and the door, and begins squirming in her shoes. “M-mister Byakuya…”

“Give me your envelope.” He says coldly, and she freezes. “Well?”

“U-um…I can’t…” He grabs it from her hand, and she squeals. “W-wait-! L-let me prepare my h-heart-”

“Makoto.” He turns to the boy standing a ways behind him. “Come here.”

Makoto trots over, and Byakuya thrusts both envelopes in his face. “Which one?”

“Uh…” He hesitates for a moment, then points to the one that Byakuya had already been holding.

Byakuya shoves Fukawa’s envelope back towards her, and she fumbles for it a little too late. It flutters to the ground. “Stay away from me.” He spits. “And if I hear any whisper about the contents of this envelope, I’ll make you regret ever being born. Do you understand?”

He turns before she can respond, marching towards the door. Makoto’s footsteps dog after him.

“H-hey, wasn’t that a little…harsh?” He asks, quietly. Byakuya shakes his head.

“Hardly.” He grits out. If anything, he should have been harsher. His hand is still clenched tight around the envelope, the edges digging into his palm. The fury from earlier simmers; he could hardly believe the audacity that girl had dared to have.

He doesn’t even know what was written in his own envelope, and he doesn’t think he’s interested in reading it either. At the very surface level, it would be something about the blood competition that his family had held for the title of heir, and the lengths he had gone through to win it. If the mastermind had been really scouring for something embarrassing, he supposes it could detail about how he once spent a period of his life disguised as Polaris, though that was hard information to come by. Either one would be annoying to deal with once revealed, but it wouldn’t kill him. It was hardly the worst thing a Togami has done in the course of history, and as heir, any such information would be suppressed before it could reach any important ears.

But, it would be considered a blunder on my part. A blot on his perfect record. He chews at the inside of his cheek, feeling the raw and bloody flesh from the other day run over the grooves of his teeth. To allow such a thing to happen would reflect poorly upon him, draw doubt onto his position.

It’s not like killing was the better option, however.

He sighs, and stuffs the paper into his pocket. Better to put it out of his mind for now; if time runs out and it gets revealed, he’ll just have to figure out a way to deal with it then. He’s gotten out of tighter spots. And no matter how much he and Makoto had smoothed things over, he still couldn’t trust the boy to the degree of having him read it out to him, especially if it was a secret that could affect the family name.

For the time being, it was time to go to bed, and mull it over in his sleep.

< previous - from start - next >

[5and3nevermind]

https://www.tumblr.com/5and3nevermind/744754189144653825/i-will-be-screaming-about-this-for-a-long-time?source=share

There is something about this hand hold and the eye contact (plus it's so rare for them) that feels domestic and like they're really a couple you can't deny it (but I know people will try) along with the flirting from Yoongi too with that pickup line I don't know if Jimin was too stunned to speak or confused cause he didn't understand the reference but either way it all speaks for itself anyone who doesn't get it well it's their loss.

Hi anon! They’re pretty careful when it comes to holding hands on camera (unlike other pairs who do it without hesitation), and we also know there are times when Yoongi shies away from eye contact. So to get both of those things at the same time…and during what would have been a very special moment for Yoongi…is significant.

In terms of the way ym is perceived: of course there will be people who still don’t see it. And frankly, I would not expect this moment to change anyone’s mind. When I think of some of the past moments that people have tried to talk their way around…if they can ignore those things, they’ll ignore this too. Which is fine, honestly. Their loss, as you say, and I agree with that 100%.

In the episode, three things stood out to me: the moment you mentioned because it is somewhat rare for these two and in my mind rare = special. Second, the moment when Yoongi reached out toward Jimin when he first walked into the dressing room. That was so different compared to how Yoongi had reacted when Jimin visited the Shadow set. I think Jimin conveyed to him how much that stung, and Yoongi made sure it didn’t happen again.

And third, the pick-up line!!!! Wow! That was a very bold move. I wasn’t familiar with the line or the show, but apparently it’s from a rom-com k-drama and it was pretty popular. (??)

Jimin’s reaction was really interesting. It’s like you can see the wheels turning in his mind. 🤭 He didn’t look confused, and he didn’t ask Yoongi what he meant, and you can hear staff giggling in the background. All of that suggests that Jimin (and everyone else in the room) understood. I think he just didn’t know what to say in response!

This episode was an amazing surprise, and I’m still not over it.

[thatgirl4815]

Your discussion on Sand and how it's hard to see him going to hook up with Boeing unless Sand and Ray have had some type of intense fall out is so interesting because I was wondering the same thing. But that also reminded me of some video/interview a while back with just Force and First in it - I could be remembering this totally wrong, but if I am recalling correctly Force was jokingly saying something along the lines of, "Yes, Top isn't perfect, but neither is Sand!" or something to that effect. And although it was meant as a joke what I thought was very interesting was that First didn't outright deny that point, actually I think he even reacted in a very 😏🤷‍♂️ esque manner, almost like there was something he couldn't say outright. I can't find that video now for the life of me so I can't confirm it - but now I'm a bit nervous...is Sand going to do something not so great in one of the coming episodes?!

On one hand, it's hard for me to see him doing anything *that* bad because of the way his character has been set up. He's a good person at heart and cares! On the other hand, much of the OF theme is kind of about how none of these characters are perfect and despite having (mostly) good intentions, they *do* go to somewhat messy lengths based on what they want. And we have seen that Sand isn't 100% perfect (for example, Sand breaking his own phone/leaking the video from Nick's phone/manipulating Ray to break Mew and Top up) - so he's capable of it too, but just seems to be able to control it better haha. So...ah, idk what to conclude now, I'm just nervous 😂

Yes, I’ve also been pondering whether Sand is in for any more questionable behavior, because First has acted sus about it before. I feel like I remember the interview you’re referencing but I’m not sure where to find it either. I know several interviews were recorded pre-Ep6 though, so it’s possible First could be referring to Sand’s revenge against Top. But I’m intrigued by the thought of him doing something else offbrand, but NOT if that something is hooking up with Boeing.

I’m still pretty solidly in the “Boeing flashback” camp when it comes to his relationship with Sand. Also, all signs (to me) point to a happy ending for SandRay…there are multiple reasons, but the main one being that Ray’s addiction and mental health issues require a strong supporter, and losing Sand completely—as he certainly would if they broke up, seeing as First said SandRay could never just be friends—would do a lot of damage to his mental state. So if SandRay has a happy ending, throwing a SandBoeing present-day hookup in the mix would cause a lot of drama that I don’t see getting resolved in only 2 episodes (assuming it would happen in Ep10). Between that and the Sand/Ray/Ray’s dad conflict, I don’t see how it could plausibly happen.

All that being said, I’m nervous too!! 😬😬 I definitely think Sand has the potential to act out, but in what way I’m not sure.

[lunanoc]

Is there a dmbj fandom space of sort that's... Not focused on Liu Chang characters? Or to put a positive angle on it, I'd love to talk about dmbj canon and its characters and their on page/screen interactions or how the books and sites compare but I'm not really sure where to do that? Do you have a discord or tumblr tag or blog suggestions? (Or if that doesn't exist, this is a marker of interest if you make one. I think there's actually if nothing else a lot of people in this fandom who are interested in pingxie who don't know where to go to talk to each other because it seems like most of the fandom spaces apart from the yucun discord are pretty dead)

hi anon! i’m both glad and sad you asked because i get that feeling and i’m sorry to say there’s… not really much of a good answer i can give you 🫠 though i can offer the start of one at least

a lot of the problem is the people you’re talking about, for reasons i don’t fully understand myself, have come to take up most of the visibility in the public fandom spaces to almost the exclusion of anyone and everything else. this is definitely a hot and likely unpopular take, but it’s gotten to the point where ironically (as far as the english speaking fandom goes at least, the chinese fandom is very different) in some respects, pingxie has become something of a “rarer” pair these days by comparison to ships involving more minor characters, particularly ones involving the characters you mentioned, and i find wu xie and xiaoge themselves are less talked about outside of the context of those ships than the characters you mentioned as a whole. and this isn’t a post meant to dunk on those particular interests, just my opinion on what the dmbj fandom is like at this point in time. the issue is, like you said, it leaves the people who aren't interested in that lost and with no one to talk to despite i'm sure there being a lot of us that would love a place to actively engage with each other

as far as places to talk about pingxie and the dmbj canon in general outside of that, in my experience tumblr doesn’t have all that much to offer apart from a few isolated people unfortunately. just checking the main tags tells you as much, but there are a few people. but i also know tumblr isn’t necessarily the best space for genuine conversations as i get the feeling that’s more what you’re looking for (correct me if i’m wrong). there’s a bit more going on on twitter, but it’s also fairly marginal and it also depends on what it is you want to talk about (and also, it’s twitter).

for discord servers, i can suggest 3 options, two of which i’m sure you’ve probably heard of:

the “dmbj (盗墓笔记)” server (https://discord.gg/xjTSVdUP), which was the original server created before the yucun one was and is technically the largest one (the yucun discord server actually broke off from it in part to be a space more dedicated to liu sang and liu chang characters and eventually became the fandom’s most active hub). fair warning, it’s pretty dead in the sense most of the minimal talk that goes on there isn’t really about dmbj at all, and is more generally drama-oriented. it’s also not strictly dedicated to pingxie

the “dmbj book-centric fun times” server (https://discord.com/invite/z7ZNNEbv3P), which as its name suggests, is book-oriented rather than drama-oriented. it’s also pretty dead apart from one or two sporadic posts from time to time, which i see as partly the consequence of a good chunk of the dmbj fandom either not having read the books or not particularly caring about them by comparison to other things. that being said, if enough people went there, i’m sure it could be more active. this one is also not strictly dedicated to pingxie

the “盗墓笔记 - changbai mountain” server, which is going to be my biased suggestion as it’s a tiny server started somewhat recently by myself and a couple of other friends who felt the same and wanted to try and create a safe space to talk about pingxie (and other ships if relevant, though by this i mostly mean heihua for now) and the dmbj canon and its characters as a whole. it’s very small atm and as active as it can be given that, and while it’s open to anyone interested, because of previous experiences with some people in the fandom, i would need you to get off anon and dm me if you (or anyone else reading this) is interested (as long as you’re comfortable with that ofc) as i don’t necessarily feel comfortable posting a public invite. for the record, anyone interested is very welcome to dm, we really do need more alternative fandom spaces

i’m sorry i can’t help more anon, but i hope this is something of an ok answer even if it’s not the best one

[rosemary-is-in-pesterquest]

John Egbert. May I rant some about him? Because he’s so ignored compared to other popular HS characters and that’s not right.

John is simple. He has his silly moments with his pranks. He’s absolutely a little shit without using hundred irony layers of the Strilondes or Karkat’s explosive demeanour. He’s often written as dumb, and yeah he’s had his silly moments… but he’s also so NORMAL when you compare him to the rest of the cast. He sees things like most of us would, scratching his head at complicate bullshit and how everybody else just increase the weird shit factor off the roof.

I think he’s one of the simplest characters ever. He obviously has his problems, his emotional turmoil, his traumatic moments even if the narrative sadly doesn’t delve into it, his funny remarks and what not. But unlike most characters, it’s easy to keep track of his motives and he’s not obscured in that sense.

And yeah! He’s been a trolling dick sometimes but he’s the most open about caring for his friends. He bought stuff for his consorts for Pete’s sake. He’s spoken so much with the trolls even though he had enough reasons not to (Terezi got him killed in another timeline, Vriska is… Vriska, Karkat is Karkat and too much Karkat).

Many people have pointed out his narrative purpose is to be bossed around by everybody else to make plot happen. And while it is somewhat true as somebody who goes with the flow without too much question, he’s not only some puppet. Come on. He actively chose to stay with Jade so she wouldn’t be alone. The times he’s been kind or trollish weren’t because of plot, metanarrative or commands or ulterior motives to make people act a certain way.

He’s simple. That’s his charm. It’s not a bad thing. In a webcomic with convoluted plot and characters who are hard to pin down, John remains a breath of fresh air with his simplicity. I feel he represents people who read Homestuck and couldn’t care less about intricate symbolism and meta.

I’ve seen him in HS2 and the epilogues. He’s mostly okay? Like he’s thankfully not strongly hit with OOC drama, but the writers keep torturing him with depression problems. Or with broken friendships. Or with sad family matters.

I don’t mean to say John always has to be the silly joyful dude we knew back in the day. By all means, he’s allowed to be depressed and less active! I would be too with a dad that was my whole world gone. It makes sense. He makes the most sense in HS2 and the Epilogues despite the bad kind of bullshit that exploded here.

And I think that’s my problem with him in those horrible continuations. He hasn’t done much wrong, really.

But if you want to paint him as a metanarrative device meant to lead your sad excuse of a plot, you can’t do so without the characters that lead him. Not without the people who sometimes called him a dumbass but later rectified or admitted he had his great things. Not without the friends that saw him as a leader who kept his calm in the most batshit moments, even though he flipped at a movie and not when he saw his dead dad.

So where are his friends? Where’s his sister Jade who went lonely for 3 years without him, who tried to cheer him up when he had nightmares? Where Dave, the guy who called John his best bro and the reason he went back in time to become Davesprite and save John? Where’s Rose, who impacted their session so much, who John saw all grimdark and incomprehensible and he just spoke to her like normal, like a friend?

Where’s Jane, her grandma and mom, a grounded friend to her group like John, with whom they’re share a like for goofy pranks? Where’s Roxy, the girl he saw suffering when she lost her mom, who was with him during Game Over, and who hit so well with her? Where’s Dirk… shit I can’t remember if they had interactions… but cold irony master Dirk with thrice the awkwardness of Dave, interacting with John? Would be hysterical. Where Jake who John complimented, even saying his goofy God Tier outfit rocked and how sidekicks were always so underestimated, how both loved movies?

And the trolls? Karkat, Vriska, Terezi, they’re all fucking disasters in some way and yet John would speak with them so much!

His ties may seem less obvious or dramatic, but he’s just. He’s got so many bonds people ignore because they’re not romantic… it makes sense for him to feel miserable and sad for all the horrible things he lived through. What doesn’t make sense is that so many people who looked up to him would leave him abandoned. He deserves company and support, dammit!

He’s so simple and good. The juju that breaks the metanarrative? We’re lucky it fell into HIS hands, any other character would’ve fucked up so much with so much power. Not John. He’s just chilling there.

Please pardon me for the rambling I was feeling passionate today

I don't have a grand enough reply except that John is so good

edit: also I just wanted to mention that I realllly hate how dumbed down people make John, to the point he's this completely innocent guy who doesn't know what a swear word is. John LOVED messing around with Karkat + the other trolls and their lack of human understanding

[amethystina]

How to Spend Quality Time With Your Dad: Ask him what car he’d recommend to Kang Yo Han

For context, my dad has been a test driver for various car brands for the past 30 years or so, which means that not only has he driven almost every type of car known to man, he also does so YEARS before us peasants get so much as a glimpse of them.

In the case of The Devil Judge, that’s pretty nifty since it’s supposedly set in 2026, which means he can give me insider info on (at least some) cars not yet on the market but ones that should, most likely, be available by then. Not specific details, obvious, because that’s illegal and considered coorporate espionage, but yeah.

And, for more context, he has no idea what The Devil Judge is aside from “a dystopian TV show set in South Korea” and that Yo Han is “a wealthy man not afraid to spend his money” but he was incredibly excited about the conversation nonetheless. Especially since I made it trickier for him by asking for a car that IS expensive but might not necessarily LOOK expensive. That’s to say, it shouldn’t be a brand that immediately screams wealth to most people, meaning Maserati, Lamborghini etc. were immediately disqualified. I also didn’t want it to be a Chevrolet or Cadillac, which is what Yo Han usually seems to gravitate towards.

In the end, me and my dad agreed on an Audi e-tron (because 2026 means electric cars are more likely) and while he argues for a GT, I think a Sportback might fit the “doesn’t look expensive” a little bit better. The price range is (hilariously) somewhat higher than what Yo Han usually goes for, but EH. They’re very nice cars and Yo Han clearly likes nice cars.

And my dad was very happy to discuss cars with me, even if he might not have entirely understood the purpose. He was also very proud to be able to help me “with my story.”

Father-daughter bonding at its finest.

Fun anecdote: My dad once called me at the office, saying he was in town due to his work and asked if I wanted to eat lunch with him. Since he lives over two hours away and I don’t see him all that often I of course said yes, not realising that when he said he was working, he meant “I will be picking you up in an Audi A8 L.” Now, for those of you who aren’t well-versed in cars: the Audi A8 L is more expensive than the majority of the cars Yo Han is seen to own in the drama. And, not so surprisingly, is definitely the most expensive car I’ve ever been inside. It tightened my seatbelt for me. What even.

And let’s pretend that my dad has never taken me inside the super-secret facility where they test all of these cars since that’s DEFINITELY illegal. Shhh.

[04dissection]

hi, for ask game~ 1, 3, 4, 11, 16 for Muu and 2, 5, 7, 8 for Fuuta, please 💖

HI ANON!!!!! Thank you so much for the question! This gets hilariously long so under the read more it goes.

Content Warnings: Discussions of suicide

Muu Kusunoki

1. favorite song lyrics?

I think it'd probably be these lines from After Pain.

"If you're going to make me the villain / It's okay to ignore me / If it's endurance, I'm used to it / It's just having another taste of it."

With the added context of It's Not My Fault, and with After Pain being very solidly about events after It's Not My Fault, I suppose you can say this is a part of Muu's difficulties with ascribing fault to herself- actually, since you asked me about both of them, I find it so intriguing T2 seems to exemplify a sort of contrast of fault and guilt that 0304 as a duo has. Muu doesn't feel guilty nor at fault, Rei deserved it because of what she did to her, while Futa does feel guilty and admits fault(or at least seems to), and, in a way, you can make their motives similar: they did what they believed was right. Sorry, tangent over, continuing on.

I just personally love this line because of how it's sung and how it somewhat subverts us expecting to her to hit a higher note(it's been forever since I've actually done any music theory, so I don't know the terms).

To include a line from It's Not My Fault, I really like this one! (Using the translation from Fandom as much as I... dislike using it since I couldn't find who made the translation originally and as we know It's Not My Fault's official translation is... rough).

"Don’t ever hate me, and don’t look for what lies “after and from” the pain. / Wait, wait, it’s not my fault! / You get it, right? It’s you, after all. / What a relief. Can’t be helped. Since I’m always meant to be pitied-"

I adored her referencing After Pain here, and telling us not to look into it- literally telling the audience 'don't look into me <3 you said you don't hate me! so you don't have to look into me!' I specifically always like 'I'm always meant to be pitied.' This line really says a lot about Muu, and especially of how she acted in T1- though that was also partially and probably mostly from fear.

I need to mention, though, Muu's not a manipulator. Even if she tries to, her personality will get in the way of it. The thing with her is that she sees relationships as purely transactional and that the right thing to do is just to let people get their way. It's not that she doesn't care about Haruka, it's that to her, his threat was what he wanted to do, so why should she get in the way?

She wants us to pity her because we, the audience, made pity mean forgiveness- so if we fit that into her framework of relationships, wouldn't that mean that the transaction is her making us feel bad for her in exchange for being voten forgiven? I hope that's something that will come up in T3.

3. favorite non-mv official illustration?

I can just say the cake art, but I actually really like the third anniversary art- which is my profile picture.

But I adore it. It's a very unsettling piece, what this the spotlight lighting and all, and her expression is so wonderfully creepy. I love this art set a lot, it's great.

4. favorite minigram episode/moment?

Episode 22! Specifically the third panel on this page: (x)

It's such a funny little minigram and I adore this single frame of Muu holding Jackalope so much. I like to imagine that she had wanted to hold him since he popped up in the interrogation room during her first voice drama. And I can agree, rabbits are really nice to hold on your lap as long as you aren't stressing them out too much.

Fun fact, actually- the minigrams associating Muu with plaid(31 and 38) is actually the reason why I have the my blog background as the squares. They made me associate her with those square patterns.

11. what are your favorite points about their story and the narrative surrounding them?

Definitely how both her and Rei caused the downfall of the other, in a way. Both repaid aggression with aggression, with one case leading to months of intense bullying and the other leading to a murder. I'm not saying that these are equal, but that doesn't make either good things to do. Muu and Rei both turned that hourglass on the other.

I don't know, it gets to me how much they seem to have torn into each other and the length of time they did. Rei wasn't some completely innocent girl, and neither was Muu- They're both messy with ugly emotions and ugly truths and ugly actions. In the end, both were hurt and more than likely both dead because of the abuse they suffered at the hands of both each other and their peers.

16. how do you think they actually sing in regular life?

I haven't seen what she says on the karaoke cards so if I'm wrong I'm wrong- but I think Muu is an alright singer at best. Her range is.... abysmal to put it nicely and her voice can be rather squeaky at times. If she is able to stay in her range though, she has a rather pleasant singing voice. I imagine she used to sing more and used to have a better voice, but once she began to get bullied she slowly just stopped.

Fuuta Kajiyama

2. favorite mv moment/frame?

Something really gets me about this moment in Backdraft. Something about watching yourself repeat your mistakes, and remembering how gleeful you were doing it- you really just become sick from the joy you derived from awful things. At least that's my interpretation of it.

...As a weird aside, I ended up spending like, half an hour trying to see if there was a word in psychology for what I meant. I'm still figuring out a new search engine over google(playing with a bunch of different ones) so my results are definitely different feeling. But it did remind me of flashbulb memories, so I guess it wasn't for nothing.

I also should mention I love the fact that Bring It On is 4:04 minutes long. As you probably know, that's an error code!

"The server cannot find the requested resource. In the browser, this means the URL is not recognized. In an API, this can also mean that the endpoint is valid but the resource itself does not exist." (x)

5. favorite voice drama line/moment?

Braze You! at the start is just 4 minutes of Es tearing into Fuuta and it's beautiful. I think it's just nice to see Es having a good time, even if that's from harassing Fuuta.

But that's not my favorite moment- Braze You! is definitely very fun to watch, but Baptism of Fire is absolutely one of the best VDs we've gotten so far- with Fuuta calling Es out on the hypocrisy of our previous votes- why WAS Kotoko innocent and him not? While personally, I'd argue that it was dependent on how both were framed in their videos, Fuuta doesn't know about those. And anyways, he's right. We ARE doing this all for fun. Even if he got entertainment out of cancelling people, we're still not that much better than him- in his perspective at least. At the end of this day, Milgram is a work of fiction. There's a degree of separation from the events we can give ourselves, even if the characters attack the fourth wall with all their might.

7. favorite relationships with another character if they weren't in milgram, the way you'd imagine or would like them to be?

Oh this is a difficult one for me... I'll go with Fuuta and and Yuno. She likes messing with people a lot and I think it'd be funny. I adore when characters mess with other characters in a playful way. Yeah this is short, but Fuuta doesn't exactly give me a lot of lee-way with how he talks about everyone.

8. what is your theory for their crime? if there is general consensus on it in the fandom, do you have any other, not-so-widely-accepted thoughts on it?

I generally do believe in the consensus that Fuuta was part of some sort of online 'purist' group- named 'the dark triad,' very ironic name you guys- and seemed to start a campaign on Killcheroy that led to her death- with him doxxing her at some point due to how close she lived to him. I'm not entirely sure on the importance of Rumerie as of now, but I can say for certain that he is important- I mean, the graffiti in Backdraft is literally both Fuuta and Rumerie's online names intertwined- but he's important in some aspect that I just haven't figured out yet.

...While I don't have much evidence for it, I think my major divergence from common consensus is that Killcheroy did not commit suicide. If there's anything that's been obvious symbolism in this series, it's that it uses the practice of taking off your shoes before committing suicide to convey the action- please note that with Mahiru's boyfriend, Hinako, and Muu(Haruka does not participate in this, but he does have his atrocities against shoes). But notably, in Undercover:

Killcheroy Es has both their shoes on.

Undercover is a music video that definitely needs more examination(There originally was a Mikoto derailment here, but that's a different post), and this is one of those things- because Undercover doesn't lie- it might dramatize, such as showing Mahiru strangling Es while they stand in for her boyfriend, but that's in a way, right- Mahiru is here for the fact she directly led to her boyfriend's suicide. While you could argue and say that Fuuta has no idea what happened- and as such doesn't know if she committed suicide or not, as he says in Baptism of Fire:

I believe this is jumping to conclusions. We have to remember: Undercover is not Fuuta's song. It isn't even Es' song, they're just the conduit. This is the song of Milgram itself, I believe. And Milgram definitely is not restrained by real world law and theory. So far, all the bodies of Es as the victims roughly match to what happened- even Mikoto's, who is just plain unable to access the memory. So why would Fuuta's be different?

That argument aside, while I currently don't have a lot of basis for it as I'm still figuring out a lot of the details in Fuuta's case, I believe Killcheroy died from health complications exacerbated from stress- presumably a heart condition, as a lot of the blood in the Undercover art looks like it came from approximately the chest area. My evidence right now is that I made it the fuck up, sorry, but it's the main one I can think of since I really don't think she committed suicide.

[tossacointoyourhotmess]

What's the best book to film adaptation you've ever seen?

This is a tough one cause that depends on if you’re asking in terms of direct book accuracy or in terms of a brilliant book has inspired a brilliant movie even though there are differences.

Let’s look at some examples.

Jurassic Park

I’m a Jurassic Park fanatic. I love the movie so much. Its a comfort movie for me, and I’ve seen it so much I can recite the whole damn thing to you. It’s a book adaptation I’m obsessed with.

Is it a phenomenal movie based on a book? Yes.

Is it book accurate? It’s not even close. Characters die in the movie that live in the book and vice versa. Character relationships are completely changed. Characters themselves are completely changed. Would you believe me if I told you that Gennero the snivelling lawyer is actually really macho and brave in the book? There are entire sections that don’t make it into the movie but end up somewhere else the movie franchise in a somewhat different but still recognisable form. And the entire book was switched from a genuinely scary survival horror into a family friendly action adventure.

So in terms of brilliant book to brilliant movie, it’s one of the best. In terms of book accuracy, it’s one of the worst because it bears very little resemblance.

The Middle Earth Saga

I’m going to start with The Hobbit trilogy here because people love to shit on that as not book accurate. And it’s not. But is actually brilliant on lore accuracy, and I will explain that.

There are things that happen in that trilogy that do not happen in the book. If you read The Hobbit, and only The Hobbit, you will not find half of the movie trilogy. However, if you read the appendices of The Lord of the Rings, you will find the movie events in there. And these events were happening at the same time as the events in The Hobbit.

You don’t find out in The Hobbit what Gandalf was doing when he wasn’t with the company, but you do find out exactly where he went and what he was doing in the appendices. And it’s the same as the movies. You don’t see how Gandalf and Thorin meet in The Hobbit, but you can read about it in The Unfinished Tales by JRR Tolkien. And it’s the same as the movies.

Peter Jackson went beyond the confines of one book to build The Hobbit trilogy because he wanted to show what was happening with all the characters, so he went deep into Tolkien lore so that he could tell the whole story. Because The Hobbit is a children’s book. Yes, it’s the official prequel to The Lord of the Rings but it is not meant to be as intense. Jackson wasn’t making a children’s movie. He was making a prequel to his masterpiece trilogy so he pulled all the intense adult drama from the wider lore while keeping the children’s story of the quest for Erebor, with trolls and dragons and gold, intact. And yeah, throwing Legolas in there and creating Tauriel was a decision, but such is the way with adaptations. Sometimes they change things. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. But on the whole, I think The Hobbit Trilogy is a pretty good adaption of Tolkiens lore even though it’s quite wide of The Hobbit itself.

The Lord of the Rings. What can I say? It’s another one I’m obsessed with. Everything about it is phenomenal. The scenery, the acting, the music, the atmosphere, the sheer scale of it. But even the extended editions are slim lined compared to the books.

I wish we had Tom Bombadil. I wish we had the Barrow-wrights on the Barrow downs. Glorfindel deserves better. So does Beregond. And if you don’t know those names, that’s exactly why I say they deserve better. The Scouring of the Shire would honestly have been amazing to see. And where were the rest of the Dúnedain?

But some changes made to the adaptations work well. In the books, none of the Númenór descended men have beards. Actually, in Tolkien lore, these Men of Westernesse cannot actually grow facial hair. But can you imagine Aragorn, Boromir, and Faramir without their beards? It’s such an iconic look now that it’s hard not to. But they are absolutely clean shaven in the books. Even the very brief glimpse we see of Elendil at the Last Alliance shows him with a beard. What we see of Isildur shows him with a beard. But these two are not even descendants of Númenór. They are Númenór, or rather what’s left of it. They don’t have beards.

Arwen is a blink-and-you-miss-her character in the books. You see her at a Rivendell party in the corner of the room, and then at her wedding to Aragorn. That’s it. And these references maybe take up a total of 4 lines, if that. But she’s a significant aspect of the movie trilogy. Is that book accurate? Absolutely not. Is it a good change? Definitely. Side note; I bet you didn’t know she had brothers if you’ve only seen the movie. Elrohir and Elladan also deserve better.

As Gandalf and Pippin speed across Middle Earth on their way to Minas Tirith, they see the beacons already lit. Denethor had the good sense to call to Rohan for aid before Gandalf even turned up to tell him there was a problem. But Pippin lighting them against Denethor’s wishes is such a good moment in the movie that no one’s really arguing about that change. Denethor’s madness and cruelty is given more explanation in the book and it makes more complex, more interesting, and you can begin to understand how he ended up like that. But they just don’t tell you any of it in the movies. I’m not saying Denethor deserved better cause he doesn’t and I hate him, but it would’ve been more interesting if the movies allowed him to stay a complex prick rather than be a 2D one.

I could keep going but I’ve already written an essay 😅

TLDR: Jurassic Park and The Middle Earth saga come to mind but not in terms of book accuracy. But then, in the end, it’s very hard to find a completely book accurate adaptation.

[crystalmemoria]

Crystal’s Opinion on the OG Cardfight!! Vanguard’s movie

Finally, Neon Messiah!

Once again, stream of consciousness-esque.

These opinions aren’t necessarily in line with the popular opinion, so please bear with me!

SPOILERS FOR CARDFIGHT!! VANGUARD (OG AND REBOOT)

Neon Messiah: All right, and now we have the movie! The animation was great, barring the weird 3D parts. I don’t really have a lot to say about the story. It was cool, and I enjoyed the drama. Aichi losing to Ibuki was neat, and while I’m not sure how I feel about him being brought into the endgame of it despite losing, I will admit that, similar to the case of him not being Reversed, he didn’t get there without trouble. He nearly got himself killed out of his desperation to save Blaster Blade and in order to defeat Takuto and earn the right to use Harmonics Messiah. So you could say it was earned.

Ibuki’s story is interesting. Very different than the reboot (I started with the OG anime, for reference, I’m just pointing out how different they are). OG Ibuki is more... ominous, cold. His aesthetic is entirely different than Reboot Ibuki, who is more sarcastic, directly hateful, and insulting. There’s also the fact that OG Ibuki was more directly manipulated by Brandt, even having his memories tampered with. He then spends his time trying to atone, showing that he’s actually a much better person than he initially appears to be.

Reboot Ibuki... you can say he is manipulated by Brandt, but not in anywhere near the same way. He was manipulated in a more passive sense, not directly brainwashed. The Deletors reached out to him as a child, and he hid them away in terror for years, only to get them out when he finally decided to play the game again for the first time in years. This... somehow led to him deciding Vanguard was bad??? I feel like there’s some missing pieces here.

In the end Reboot Ibuki doesn’t exactly become a better person immediately. He’s still a jerk, he’s still rude and sarcastic. However, he still seems to suffer from regret, and is slowly, but surely, becoming a better person.

I’m honestly not sure which version of Ibuki I like more. They both have their positives and negatives, and they’re both made for entirely different timelines.

Back to the movie, however! I enjoyed all of the cameos that appeared in the movie. Not only did we get Buddyfight characters (I know nothing about Buddyfight), but we saw many of the background characters from the actual Vanguard anime! IIRC there’s one girl I recognized from way back in Season 1, whose sole purpose was to lose against Misaki in the first card shop tournament. She always stood out to me, so seeing her appear in the movie was actually really cool. We saw others as well, plus some more notable characters (Akari as an example).

Although I do have a question... How did all of the characters that weren’t in the tournament appear at the tournament before Team Q4? Like... wouldn’t they have realistically tried to get on the same plane or try to get on somewhat closely timed flights? How was Aichi so surprised they were all there? You’d think they’d tell him that they got invitations to watch. I guess maybe they meant it as a surprise, but like... it’s kind of weird that even Emi didn’t even tell him that she was going along.

Oh! And another question! What the heck is Takuto DOING in the movie?! He should be lost in the depths of space! IIRC they claimed that he was able to exist because of the temple or whatever they were at, but I had a hard time following, admittedly. Honestly, it was dumb and cheap that he was there. It made no sense, and IIRC I read that the creators of the movie weren’t even originally planning to have Takuto there in the first place? I could be wrong about that.

Also, does Ultra Rare have their memory back while he’s there? The only member of Ultra Rare to get any notable focus is Suiko, and she doesn’t really clarify either way. You can assume she knows them though, based on the way she talks.

Kourin gets basically no acknowledgement, no chance to speak to anyone, or anything... which is a huge shame. You’d think they’d make use of her being present in some way.

The story of the movie itself is fine. It works well, although I’m curious if the Deletors have any sort of connection to Void in this verse. Admittedly, I do not know very much of the card lore or the lore for Cray, so this may be answered already.

[ladyhindsight]

Chapter 10 begins the second part of the book. The most notable things as to the plot so far:

The tracksuit gang

Abandoned demon baby and a piece of fabric

Camilla named as the perpetrator

Jace’s bad dreams

All of these are going to the same direction, but the story is still so boring. It is stretched too thin. The writing meanders and none of the above seem to be the main point of action that carry the plot forward without these intermediate stops attending to all the relationship drama. A plot point takes a place, then nothing happens. Plot rears its head again, then nothing happens. Clary is the only character to somewhat instigate the plot moving forward while others just wait for it to happen to them or to be sucked in it.

Anyway.

Jordan’s true identity has been finally revealed, and Maia is not happy about having him around.

The writing is very particular to cover all the bases for Jordan and to explain that, even though he destroyed Maia, he could still be forgiven because of things that were out of his control. Characters like Jordan can always be given a redemption arc, but Jordan’s redemption in this story is manipulative.

Each moment Jordan’s actions are explained, I see the reaction that it’s meant to prod, the way the writing wants readers to perceive Jordan:

→ Jordan could not control his aggression when turning into a werewolf: Oh, Jordan did not mean to do that to Maia. He is a good guy.

→ Jordan tried to make contact with Maia to explain, but Praetor Lupus stopped him: Oh, if Maia had just known the truth, she would’ve known Jordan is still a good guy.

→ Jordan does not fight Maia because of his guilt over her: See, he is ready to die because he thinks he deserves it. Poor, poor Jordan.

And I’m preeetty sick of it. While the writing does not seem to excuse his actions, it really likes to tiptoe around it. Also, Isabelle’s words should be made stronger here. The end just flattens it all.

→ “I don’t know what he did to her,” she’d said. “But get out of here. Both of you.”

If the premise of this wasn’t that Jace and Simon both were idiots thinking anyone would have their first name only on a buzzer, then sure, it would’ve been an okay reveal. Now this is just explaining in way too much detail a dumb point you made because, again, you don’t trust your readers to figure it out by just saying:

→ His name had been Jordan Kyle.

And I have no disagreements on Simon’s stupidity, and yet, it does not absolve the writing from fact that the whole reasoning was incredibly flawed to begin with. And get the fuck out with that self-pity. I am sick of every character in this book.

Writing trying to score points for Simon for manhandling Jordan.

→ By the time Simon had hauled/yanked him to his feet...

Another think I am also sick of is Jordan’s Hazel Eyes.

Simon lets Jordan explain his side of things, and they talk. Jordan tells Simon that Maia is the bad thing he is trying to make up for. All fine and dandy, just quit later forcing yourself into her bubble.

We cut to Clary trying to create another kind of a tracking rune, an address book for miscellaneous items.

I don’t think there has been a clearer example of Jace creating these problems all by himself and Clary just existing to understand him and love him and sympathize with him in spite of that. What does Jace give Clary in return for jumping these hoops for him? Playing by his behavior and rules? Waiting dutifully for him to be in the right place? It’s always about Jace’s torment and problems, and Clary caving into it all.

Without her unearned, born-with angelic powers no one else has.

→ Was the mother who’d dumped her baby near the hospital a member of the church? Had she known what she’d gotten herself into before her baby was born?

The next paragraph begins with the sentence “She felt cold all over as she reached for her phone—and paused with it in hand.”  → Clary felt cold all over... (continuing from the unfiltered questions.)

Clary sends a message to a backup and leaves to investigate the church. We cut back to Simon and Jordan.

Again. Jordan tried to make contact with Maia to explain, but couldn’t, so instead it was made sure that someone would watch over Maia  → Poor, poor Jordan. See, he tried! He still wanted to take care of Maia because he caaares.

Imagine anyone helping Simon out solely for Simon himself. Jordan does stuff for Maia, Jace does stuff for Clary.

No one also questions this organization stalking your everyday life with your friend/a person you’re seeing. Creepy.

“I went over an uncontrollable, jealous rage, hit her and bit her, but because I understand that I had no control over it, Maia must also have a crystal ball and understand my side of things without ever hearing it.”

There’s just way too many words to explain that it was, indeed, the doorbell ringing, not, as you might think, the buzzer. You know, like someone is right behind the door and not, you see, downstairs were people normally press the buzzer to gain entry to the building in the first place.

So far all the stuff has just happened to Simon. Similarly like dating two girls has just happened to him and he has had no chance to do anything about it but go on. 

Here is an opportunity for him to continue action. He sort of begins by calling all his female friends, but then drops the issue because Clary, Maia, and Isabelle are all safe, though Clary is currently entering the 232 Riverside Drive.

The buzzer can’t sound again if it didn’t even sound before. It was the “the doorbell” and “not the buzzer.”

Jace comes to get Simon, the Conclave want to see him. Meanwhile Clary investigates the church and is attacked by a fridge demon. The end.