#LIKE. ITS ONE FUCKING LINE. BUT THE GRAVITAS. OH THE GRAVITAS OF IT

[arolesbianism]

Ok so good news I have finished unlocking all the oni lore, bad news there wasn't as much left as I was hoping. But on the bright side, Jean and Nails got to do more stuff hell fucking yes

[hrodvitnon]

Y'know, for all its failures, I believe GxK is the biggest win for Godzilla's overall reputation in the Monsterverse. What I mean by that, is that when you have a character referred to as "King of The Monsters", you're basically placing said character at the very top of the food chain, or damn near close to it. And as such, it sets up the expectation that said character will be peerless, with only a handful of others who can match his strength. And unfortunately, the Monsterverse had not really showcased that all that well. Because every major fight Godzilla's been in had been a major struggle up to this point, with him nearly dying to the MUTOs, Ghidorah, and MechaGodzilla. Granted, there were outside factors at play, but the end result is still that Godzilla nearly died and his title got chipped, losing it's gravitas as a result. Why should one believe him to be the strongest, or even close to that, if every other fight he gets into has a 60% chance to end with him getting his teeth kicked in? If you're gonna give someone a title that implies strength, you have to either play it straight, or for irony purposes. Out of the top of my head, two examples of the latter case are Sukuna and Gojo from JJK. Both of them are referred to as "The Strongest" or "The Honored One", with the whole cast of both heroes and villains acknowledging their strength and ability as being unparalleled. But we don't just stop at saying they're the strongest, because every time either of them is on the battlefield, the whole game changes. Every time they fight somebody, you get the sense that they're not taking it seriously, and that they are operating on a wholly different wavelength from everybody else. And that goes to great lengths to show that the title of Strongest is not just for show. And, one example of the former is, ironically, Invincible from "Invincible", whose most defining trait so far is nearly dying every fight he has. It's not even funny anymore, you just feel bad for the guy. He could be having a nice dinner with his girlfriend when suddenly, a superpowered alien chick for his dad's world rolls in, and basically goes "If we don't go out and fight right now, this bitch dies." And he has to oblige because his girlfriend's life is on the line. What proceeds is what can only be described as a beatdown, with him getting his face caved in and then left to rot. Of course, you do have the angle of "Oh, his Indomitable human spirit is what keeps him in the fight, that's what makes him invincible." And yeah, sure. But that human spirit of his does fuck all to keep his teeth where they should be, which inside his mouth, not outside of it. Thankfully, Godzilla is no longer at risk of falling that hole, because GxK basically gave a flawless run. Of course, that came at the expense of Scylla and Tiamat getting turned into tuna, but it untimely did wonders to put some much needed respect in Godzilla's name and title, and I do hope they keep this trend going in the next movie.

I wasn't all that bothered by Godzilla having rough fights before GxK, because I'd marathoned most of the Toho movies in the leadup to KOTM and my line of thinking was, "Yeah, historically Godzilla has gotten his ass beaten before, so this tracks. This isn't FInal Wars, so why should I expect these fights to be easy?" His opponents had advantages over him in some ways, like the MUTOs outnumbering him and Ghidorah being a flying extinction event with vampire energy succage and Mechagodzilla being a Terminator on meth; naturally he would almost die at some points, and that made it exciting or even scary to me.

If Godzilla suddenly became Final Wars-tier overpowered it would be awesome, but at the same time it could run the risk of turning him into a Boring Invincible Hero, and Godzilla should never be boring. Easy wins are well and good, but must all of his fights be easy? I kinda like that he had to struggle before and he's only now cutting out the bullshit, like he's thinking "fuck this git gud horseshit, I'M TURNING THIS INTO METAL GEAR RISING." I do look forward to seeing how he performs next movie (Sputore, please do not let the evolved form be a one-time only thing, that would be stupid).

(Also, speaking of anime and things: I've never watched Invincible and still haven't watched JJK but I have watched and read Rurouni Kenshin; Kenshin is legendary in his series but also has the handicap of using a fighting style too strong for his body type and a reverse-bladed sword that prevents him from killing, and after a certain point he's being given opponents who are physically bigger and stronger and have no qualms about killing, and have tricks of their own that kick his ass. Sometimes you have to fight or even struggle to maintain the legend, and I'm okay with that. It's what I grew up with.)

[preshtagonist]

Half-baked spidey oc thoughts under the cut

Arachnien is agender, any pronouns. Literally that tiktok thats like “hey whatre your pronouns” “oh i use any” “ok cool. So BINGUS—“ and theyd be like yeah. bingus. : )

There will be alternating pronouns in this post good luck

They’re 17. They become 8ft after the bite over the course of a month. Its very scary and it does not help that their hair turns from black to grey which just makes it even more concerning. She starts dyeing part of his hair green, and fsr the way the dye interacts w her hair is like those UV Light dyes or whatever

Their web-lines look like dna 🧬 like this

Arachnien’s version of new york is called new vegas and i think his j jonah jameson, J. Joanne Jameson, Staunchly Does Not Believe in aliens or cryptids or any of that nonsense and this is actually considered really strange by the general populace bc new vegas is a Weird Fucking Place.

Nien’s bad at hand to hand and isnt very durable, needs to rely on stealth, reflexes, intelligence, and out of the box solutions to problems. STRONG preference toward non-violent solutions. (We come in peace (this was not intentional when i decided theyre kind of a pacifist but its true and i think its a little funny))

Have you ever had sleep paralysis? Would you like to find out? (Do Not Look At Arachnien’s Eyes do not pass do not collect 200)

His family calls them duck or duckie. I dont have a name for her shhh

Arachnien’s version of kingpin runs the big casino in new vegas. Her mysterio lives in the Orb. You know the one. The famous orb.

Whenever Arachnien and Mayday are in HQ at the same time arach gets treated the same way miguel does and it scares peter so bad bc arach is 8ft tall noodle limbs so its like “ha you skyscraper! Careful with her she might get hurt if she falls haha!” “(strange sense of gravitas) i will not let that happen mr parker.” “, Okay kid calm down now”

Nien is very light on their feet. Sometimes the arachnikids ask nien to stand behind people just to scare them. Nien still has not cottoned onto the fact this is what the kids are doing when they ask him to stand behind people.

[anarchosimdicalist]

some dumb jocks for @rainymoodlet/@kissmeinkomorebi's bc

lou larson (contestant)

bisexual bigender butch (she/he)

adult (43)

maker, gloomy, goofball

renaissance sim aspiration

5'9

divorcedest bitch in komorebi

good with kids, has such dad energy you forget he doesn't have any

he's funny but sometimes you have to stop him mid joke to go "hey are you ok?????"

not as committed a jock as katsuo, but definitely makes an effort to keep fit, if only to make herself leave the house.

very handy - aside from woodwork, she fixes cars for fun.

hino katsuo (outsider)

none gender with left gay (he/they)

adult (38)

active, adventurous, childish

extreme sports enthusiast

5'11

dumbass slutty jock with negative impulse control and a heart of gold

a little bit of an adrenaline junkie, always looking for a new way to put himself in mild danger.

he has a tendency to make big plans for holidays or ambitious projects - and then follows through on maybe a third of them.

was a little bit of a musician back in the day - never made it big, but the important thing is he knows his way around sound equipment.

backstory under the cut - it got WAY too long but we move.

There's a story Lou likes to tell, after she's had a few drinks and she's feeling talkative. He takes one last sip to lubricate, clears his throat dramatically, and everyone leans in to listen.

"Okay, so it's Moonlight Falls. Almost 20 years ago, now? They've got this Lumberee thing going on. I used to go when I was a kid, see, and even now I'm a big grown-up boy going out on my own, I still come back every year to eat my dad's food and, fuckin', I don't know, check out the music. They have this little wood-carving competition but I only ever watch for ideas, 'cause I'm a cocky little 20something shit still and I think I'm way too cool for it.

"Except this one year there's a lady." Pause for wolf-whistles, or "aww"s, depending on the crowd. "I've been flirting with her hard, and it's going pretty smooth. I mean, she's so into me it's kind of embarrassing for her. She says she loves the woodcarving competition but I say these guys are all hacks, I've made better easily. And she doesn't believe me, but I've backed myself into a corner now and the only way out is through, so I say I'll enter so I can get her dinner with the winnings.

"It's actually way cooler than I thought. There's this old, old guy who does it every year, some teenager whose friends talked him into it, all sorts. But my favourite is this dude from out of town who entered on a whim, like me. We chat while we work and we really hit it off. Few years down the line, I switch on the TV, guess who that guy turned into? Fucking Daniel Taylor." Sometimes someone will ask "who?" and Lou will launch into a tangent. "Who? Daniel Taylor. Your Dad's Garage Daniel Taylor? Come on, man, you've seen Your Dad's Garage. Well, you should. Look it up. He's great, and he's just as nice in person. He was a really interesting guy, had some good stories - not bad to look at either. We could've been friends, probably, but I look up from the chair I'm making and I see the girl watching me, and our eyes meet across the tent, and I remember - oh, yeah, I'm not here to make friends."

And this is where his story has to diverge a little. The grand finale used to be easy - he would reach for her wife's hand, or fix her with an adoring look, or, if she wasn't around, affect a boyish, half-ironic bragging tone, and he'd say, "So I kicked Daniel Taylor's ass. My chair blows his and everyone else's out of the water, I win us a good fancy dinner and then some, and I've been with her ever since."

As it turns out, it loses its gravitas once the girl leaves you. If she changes the ending, says "and I was with that girl for almost 20 years before she told me I was "messy" and "incapable of taking her seriously" and kicked me out of her house, taking all of our mutual friends with her", the love story feels hollow. If she skips over it, it feels dishonest, and it all starts falling apart at the first follow-up question. This story is meant to end happily ever after. It isn't meant to end with Lou living on his gym buddy's futon, crying periodically and watching old Your Dad's Garage episodes because they remind him of her.

But life isn't a story, and Katsuo is getting worried. When Lou first moved in, she was somewhere between an aquaintance and a friend. They worked out together if they were both around, and Katsuo let her shower at their nearby house when he mentioned feeling off in the gendered public ones at the gym, but they rarely hung out otherwise. Still, though - when she nervously asked if Katsuo wanted a roommate after her divorce, he jumped at the chance. Sure, he needed help with the rent, but living alone had been rough - maybe they'd get a friend out of it too.

It's been months now, and get a friend they did. The two of them are inseparable, their daily routines intertwined - they work out together, cook together, Lou even got Katsuo into her favourite show (and that woodworker is one fine DILF). But the more Katsuo gets to know Lou, the more he starts to worry. He can hardly expect her to be over a relationship so long-term in a few months, but he's grown fond of her now, to the point where seeing her in this state is painful.

Katsuo's solution only makes Lou wonder if his new best friend is an evil genius or a complete idiot. Her interest in Daniel's show was minimal - he hates nostalgic cashgrabs just a little more than he loves Daniel's work - but when they suggested he go on, he couldn't deny being intrigued. When they added that they had always wanted to go up Mt Komorebi, and that maybe a little sound guy work could help cover some of those travel expenses, she laughed so hard she almost forgot about her divorce for a minute. The application process was a drunken evening filling out forms and laughing. Neither one of them had planned on it actually working.

[usertoxicyaoi]

“Don’t you want me to disappear? Shoot me already. Shoot me! I don’t think you can.” KINNPORSCHE (2022) : EPISODE 13.

[bigskydreaming]

@destefaniart Yup, “In Their Shadows Grow Trees of Good and Evil” is definitely Court of Owls related. Its literally just using that series’ AU setting and family dynamics with the premise: 

What if the Batfam found out about the Court’s existence and plans for Dick before the Court ever tried to make a move on him, based purely on fifteen year olds Jason and Cass watching Court members be skeevy around their older brother at galas and being like...mmm, don’t love whatever’s going on over there. I sense Evil afoot.

(The following is just some off-the-cuff dialogue along those lines, but not actually likely to be the actual dialogue I go with because the character voices aren’t quite what I’m aiming for Jason and Cass to actually sound like in this. I’m mostly just being goofy for the LULZ at the moment. But like. You get the gist).

Jason: I do not care for their vibes, sister. 

Cass: Samesies.

Jason *spluttering*: Samesies? SAMESIES? Did you not hear the intonations I put in that? The gravitas? You couldn’t just like....match my energy, nooooo, you had to go and fucking derail by being like ‘ha ha, samesies, tee-hee’ which by the way, is something I have literally NEVER heard out of your mouth before now and I somehow doubt I will ever hear you say again...ugh. God, would it KILL you to just follow my lead for once?

Cass, regarding her dramatic-ass brother with all the gravitas he wanted before: Yes. I could die. Would you like that? Do you want me to die?

Jason: ....what?

Cass: I see. I would literally die for you. For our brother. But me? I can die. You’d be fine. Ideal, even. Good to know.

Jason: What is happening right now.

Cass: Learning I love you more than you love me. Its fine. Why? What’s up with you?

Jason: Why are you like this?

Cass *shrugs and stares deeply into her flute glass of sparkling apple cider as though its a scrying pool that contains the answer to his question, which is now suddenly the most important question to ever be asked and/or contemplated*: My parents are bad people. That could be it.

Jason snorts, the mood broken: Oh please. My dad’s an ambulatory piece of shit with just enough of a credit history to trick society into thinking he came out of a womb instead of a public toilet. You ain’t special.

Cass *shrugs*: Knew it wasn’t going to land. Figured I’d commit anyway.

*both pause to soak in the sudden uncomfortableness*

Jason: Right! So! How do you want to play this? Should we just skip straight past the awkwardness to an abrupt subject change and pretend neither of us ever dropped the dreaded ‘p’ word? Or we could do the whole ‘mine are worse’ ‘no mine are worse’ thing until we make a scene that ends with Dick assuring us its not a competition and we can both have shitty parents while getting that weird pinched expression where its like he can’t decide whether he wants to apologize for having good parents or like, pat us on the head for having terrible ones? That’s always fun.

Cass, nodding thoughtfully: I do enjoy that. I shouldn’t. But I do.

Jason, bumping her shoulder with his: Eh, don’t feel too bad. He gets the same look when Bruce burns toast and Dick can’t decide if he wants to roast B for it or apologize for being a functioning adult who can safely use a toaster without having the fire department on standby just in case.

Cass: Also very funny.

Jason: Exactly. Sides, its not like its your fault. I mean, how do we know you finding that funny ISN’T because your parents are shitty people?

Cass, eyeing him with the dubious air of someone who WANTS to believe, but is well acquainted with her brother’s brand of bullshit: I laugh when our brother gets the awkward look where he doesn’t know whether something’s just sad or something he should feel bad for.....because my mother kills people for money.

Jason, spreading his arms as if points were actually just made: Can you prove there’s for sure NOT a connection there?

Cass: People are right. You do use that too much.

Jason, who has never backed down in his life and for damn sure isn’t about to start right now: And you know who’s fault that probably is?

Cass, with eyebrow raised: Your dad’s?

Jason, triumphant: EXACTLY. Its not my fault the math all checks out.

Cass: Right. Its math.

Jason: Yup. Can’t argue with math. The only empirical truth of the universe. I mean, could you imagine if you tried to say math led you astray? Bruce might actually cry.

Cass: Are you done?

Jason, pausing to consider. Yeah, I can be done.

Cass takes a deliberate chug of her drink, eyes watching her brother the whole time as if just waiting for him to reverse course and pick right back up.

Jason: Hey wait a second. People say I use that too much? What people?

Cass *shrugs*: People.

Jason: Well what people are talking about me? Are they talking about me TO you? What do they say? Are you defending me at least?

Cass, after a pause: Sorry. I lied. No people were talking. Definitely not about you.

Jason, narrowing his eyes: Why don’t I believe that?

Cass shrugs: Because I just told you I lied?

Jason: Ugh, no, not about that, I don’t believe you about lying.

Cass squints: I lied about lying?

Jason: Yes. That.

Cass: That’s weird. Why would I do that?

Jason: I DON’T KNOW.

Cass: Well if you don’t know how should I know?

Jason: You’re doing that thing again.

Cass: Now you’re lying. I never do things. I’m a thinker, not a doer. My therapist even said so.

Jason, rolling his eyes: That’s because you’re a demented little chaos monster who pathologically lies to your therapist just so you can giggle at Bruce’s face every time she comes back with increasingly niche diagnoses for stuff you read about on WebMD.

Cass: Bruce said I needed more hobbies!

Jason: Yes, and manipulating your therapist into basing an entirely absurd and completely off-base CASE STUDY on you is what he meant.

Cass, the unrepentant: He should have been more specific.

Jason: She’s going to publish only to be completely discredited and then laughed right out of her tenure isn’t she.

Cass, shrugging: I don’t know how tenure works.

Jason, eyeing her sternly: Don’t you think that a) there’s a chance this might have gotten a LITTLE out of hand, and b) you should be at least a LITTLE concerned that I of all people think this is a bad idea?

Cass: Why do you get to be the only one with bad ideas? My parents are bad people too! Math!

Jason: Eww, stop making me see the error of my own ways! I’m too young to repent!

Cass, rolling her eyes now: I’m only doing it because she’s a terrible person who shouldn’t be allowed to work with children who can’t tell when she’s being secretly judgy while saying things that would make them feel bad if they couldn’t tell she doesn’t really care about helping them like I can.

Jason: So you’re saying.....this is all just because she’s actually a danger to the people she’s supposed to be helping, and you’re only doing it for the greater good.

Cass: Mostly for the greater good.

Jason: Cass!

Cass: Its not my fault its still funny!

Jason groans. He’s so not cut out to be the responsible sibling. It feels gross. How does Dick do it all the time.

Cass, exasperated: Jason. She thinks I have an imaginary friend.

Jason: What? Why the fuck does she think that?

Cass blinks: I told her I did.

Jason groans again.

Cass: She didn’t have to believe me!

Jason: Why didn’t you just tell Bruce the real reason you don’t like her and let him deal with this?

Cass, hotly: I’m not a QUITTER.

Jason: You get how absurd you’re being right now right? This is ME. Judging YOU. For YOU being the absurd one here!

Cass: Your last therapist was convinced you were a pyromaniac!

Jason jabs a finger at her: Hey! That is NOT the same! ONE time, I said ‘fire pretty’ as a JOKE, and he just leaped to conclusions!

Cass: You started a fire. In your room. That same night.

Jason: That was an ACCIDENT! 

Cass crosses her arms. Judgmentally.

Jason: He was being RIDICULOUS and it was totally ridiculous that Bruce just like, BELIEVED him because like ‘he’s a professional Jason, he knows how to do his job,’ as though the fact that I can literally LIE TO HIS FACE about secretly being fucking ROBIN in session after session wasn’t kinda a big red flag that maybe the dude’s not that GOOD at his job, y’know? But you show B enough diplomas on a wall and he’s like ah excellent, an expert, like people don’t BUY their way through school all the fucking time and I was just TRYING to make Bruce see how ridiculous it was to think this guy had ANY clue what he was talking about by being like hey, look at all the super flammable and incendiary stuff I have just readily available throughout my room, and yet surprise! No fire! Could a pyromaniac do that?!

Cass: And then a fire started.

Jason: Yes, obviously, but only on ACCIDENT.

Cass: From all the super-flammable and incendiary stuff you accidentally had in your room TO start fires.

Jason: Okay, see, I feel like you’re not getting it.

Cass: That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.

Jason: Oh great, now I’m getting judged by Miss Watch Me Gaslight My Therapist Into Losing Her Job By Writing About How Not Normal I Am, With This Of Course Being a TOTALLY NORMAL THING TO DO

Cass glares at him. Jason glares at her. 

Cass: This is why Bruce is so sure we need therapy, isn’t it.

Jason: Can we agree that he can never know that we’ve come to understand why he’s concerned, and that making us go might not actually be the worst thing he’s ever done to us?

Cass: Obviously.

Jason: Great. Now to distance ourselves from this uncomfortable self-awareness as quickly as we possibly can, let’s jump tracks: where did we land on those creepers talking to Dick and how we feel about their vibes?

Cass: The vibes are rancid. 

Jason: Awesome, we’re still on the same page. And this leads us to conclude that the owners of the rancid vibes give Major Skeeve and we do not like and or trust them or their skeeviness right? 

Cass: Duh.

Jason: So in conclusion, rancid vibes, skeevy dudes, probable evil afoot. At the very least, insidiousness. We should definitely investigate further.

Cass: Yes. There will probably need to be punching.

Jason: Any particular reason, or because you just want to punch them?

Cass: *hesitates* Sure.

Jason: I am so uncomfortable with this inverted dynamic wherein I am the voice of reason and also moderation. Are we done yet? Is opposite day over?

Cass, rolling her eyes: Fine. Minimal punching. And I won’t even enjoy it even if they are evil and my parents are still bad people and math said it was okay.

Jason: See? There we go. And Bruce thinks we need therapy. Hah!

[slytherinsnekxvii]

let's talk about lily evans and the marauders, aka moony, wormtail, padfoot and prongs. given that i didn't use their actual names, i think you can figure out where this is going. it's also long as hell, so. canon vs fanon, marauder edition, except snek is sleep deprived.

now, before we begin, i don't dislike the marauders. or lily, tbh. if I'm being perfectly, genuinely honest, i still go back and forth sometimes but they've been growing on me for a while now. the canon versions, at least. fanon does them real dirty, and that's part of why i'm writing this, because i'm genuinely tired of it. it's an injustice.

you can at least make excuses for james and lily, who were so undeveloped that jkr practically dropped a fill-in-the-blank sheet of character information in our laps, but sirius, remus and peter were around long enough for y'all to get real acquainted with them.

in canon, sirius black is an unhinged mf. genuinely. this isn't to say he's a bad guy, in fact, we see that he's still capable of doing good things, still capable of love, still capable of all the things that prove he's actually not bad at heart, just,,, severely traumatised and very steeped in negativity from his time with the dementors. what i'm saying is that this man is absolutely, no questions asked, no holds barred demented, and how could he not be? the guy sat wrongfully imprisoned in azkaban for twelve years, a good portion of which he spent as a dog in order to protect himself from the dementors. he certainly wasn't completely insane, but you cannot tell me that he was all there. he got out of azkaban fuelled almost solely by the intent to get revenge on pettigrew, tried to commit murder in front of three witnesses who were also children—one of whom was his godson—ate rats and was also malnourished, which i'm certain did not help the situation any. this man is off his goddamn rocker, and you know what? you love to see it. good for him.

oh, but, snek, that's what he's like as an adult. what about when they were at school? before azkaban? my guy, the reaction he has to grimmauld place is not the reaction of someone without trauma. i don't believe that walburga and orion were the type to physically abuse their children, but whatever happened in that house helped to fuck him up enough that he skipped the joke of part of practical joke, and pranked snape by telling him how to meet a werewolf that he knew would be fully transformed and dangerous to humans. more than that, the werewolf was remus, whom he's friends with, and who—best case scenario—would be facing a trial if james hadn't stepped in. you can say that maybe he didn't think about or understand the gravitas of his actions, but at the end of it, that's not how properly sane people react to people they dislike, and that's not how they treat their friends. if anything, it reads like he was in the middle of a breakdown and absolutely losing his shit and he wasn't thinking at all.

my guy went through some serious shit, and was in no way completely mentally stable. we can see pretty clearly that he's got a serious dark side to him that probably would have gone unbridled had he not disagreed with his family, and yet, fanon took one look at him and went, "teehee, uwu bad boi go vroom."

fanon said padfoot is a pretty boy with nice hair who is tastefully traumatised from his horribly abusive household. sirius rides his motorcycle and plays jokes and flirts with anything that moves, but he can do no real wrong and always comes back to his soft, bookish, chocolate-loving boyfriend remus, who will laugh about his lycanthropy and quietly disapprove but secretly laugh at his friends' antics while hiding his smile in his cardigan.

respectfully, what in the absolute fuck.

i'd put that meme in here if i could, the one that's like, "well done, you've broken _______ down to its bare essentials," but no. i can't bc it doesn't even apply. this isn't a meme, it's theseus' fucking ship.

fanon broke it down, and replaced the pieces one by one until we got to this point, where we need to sit down and ask ourselves, "is this even the same character?"

the answer is no, by the way. it isn't. when people talk about woobifying characters—you know, taking away every flaw they have, romanticising everything they do and making them only capable of doing good, wonderful, lovely things?—this is what we mean.

and it'd be one thing if it was just the one character, but, no. fanon went all in and made them all squeaky clean and boring, especially peter, who draws the shortest of the straws.

remus got fucked, too. not just because fanon insists on sticking him into a relationship with sirius. which, we'll tackle wolfstar in a bit, but that's not even the worst of it. here, we have yet another example of blatant, rampant woobifying. again, is he a bad person? no. we know he's a good guy, we know he's generally kind and well-mannered, we know that he wants to fo the right thing but hey, fun fact. did you know that you can be nice and a coward? did you know that you can be benevolent and good and kindly and have the greatest of intentions and still be shady as fuck? no? ask dumbledore. the man played people like chess pieces when he needed to, and he was a twinkly grandpa. these are things that can coexist.

teenage remus is a coward who, understandably, does not stand up to his friends, likely for fear of being ostracised, and doesn't uphold his prefect duties as he should and takes part in their bullying of snape as a result. he lets them romp with him in werewolf form while they are in their animagus forms and then, he lets them continue to do so even after they have multiple close calls, which, again, had anything happened, would have resulted in a trial in the best case scenario.

grownup remus is still a coward, he tells no one that sirius can move about the school in his animagus form despite wholeheartedly believing that he's a mass murderer, he tries to run out on his wife and unborn kid. he isn't deliberately making attempts to harm anyone, but he's content to sit back and let things happen to him and around him so he doesn't rock the boat, although he is capable of action, which we see when he is more than willing to help sirius merk pettigrew in the shack. he can be careless, he runs out to the shack knowing he hasn't taken his wolfsbane and ends up transforming in front of the students he, as a teacher, is meant to be protecting. of course, this doesn't negate his good qualities, it just bears repeating that his flaws do exist, and they're pretty serious.

fanon moony is always pleasant and kind and soft-spoken and bookish, and he always has to have his chocolate. he knows when to tell off his friends, and he'll do it, even if he's secretly amused by everything they do and laughs about it with his best friend, lily evans, who coincidentally spends all her time with them so he and sirius can go on double dates with james and lily and no one has to remember peter exists.

why. theseus' ship 2.0. does the actual character still exist or is this something entirely different thing bearing the same name?

as for peter, who needs peter pettigrew, the actual, legitimate, fourth marauder when you have lily evans? canon pettigrew is opportunistic as fuck. he's latching himself to the biggest bad on the block and he's going all in. for teenage peter, that was james and sirius, and for adult peter, that's voldemort. canon peter is good enough at transfiguration to master the animagus transformation, just like his friends, and he's good enough at potions to brew the potion that gives voldemort a body. and honestly, you can't say he wasn't brave. he could've run off somewhere and died, or changed his identity or something after he faked his death and framed sirius, but, no. he goes and resurrects voldemort. that's fucked up, yeah, but it happened and honestly, i respect that it. he stuck to his guns.

fanon wormtail is lucky if he exists beyond being a spineless sycophant for james and sirius, or an evil conniving little rat who's looking to toss his entire friend group to the wolves at eleven.

of course, this isn't meant to negate his bad qualities, he still murdered people and framed sirius and sold out the potters to die, but his good characteristics do exist, and james, sirius and remus genuinely were his friends.

and now, we get to lily and james.

we have hardly any information on either of them. they're a pair of cardboard cutouts that we can paint and stick flyers to and colour outside the lines however we want. we can do whatever the fuck, as long lily is brave and smart and somewhat kind and james is brave and willing to die for his family. we were essentially handed a pair of ocs.

and yet.

what little bits of canon we have are thrown out of the window regardless.

james is privileged and rich, and he throws hexes for fun. he's willing to hex lily when she disagrees with him, and then, he goes behind her back to continue hexing snape after she believes that he's stopped doing so. and that's all we know about him until he dies for his family at twenty-one years old. once again, say it with me: this does not negate his good qualities. he definitely had them, he took sirius in when sirius ran away from home, he became an animagus to keep remus company as a wolf, and he saved snape in the shack, thereby saving remus and sirius by extension. him having flaws does not make him a bad person.

fanon prongs is a feminist. he fights for equal rights for women everywhere, and he constantly treats his girlfriend, lily, like an absolute queen. he's the hottest boy in school and everyone claps when he walks through the halls. mcgonagall and dumbledore are always patting him on the back and making jokes with him. he has a built-in dark detector that helps him sense when someone is a evil and needs to he punished.

give me a break. the dude's cool and all, but was the gary stu treatment necessary?

...oh, he needed to match fanon lily? right, right.

canon lily is a contradiction unto herself. she's supposedly a great friend, but since we see her at a point where they were already drifting apart, we see her putting little effort into keeping their friendship afloat. she victim blames based on rumours, she doesn't seem to care over much about what snape has to say about the people who have been tormenting him since day one. and she's justified, of course, she doesn't have to stick around. canon lily is a bit of hypocrite, she says that snape calls everyone of her birth mudblood, but then that begs the question why she still hangs around with him if that's the case. he calls her mudblood, she retaliates by calling him snivellus, and finishes up with a dig about his underwear, which, sure, it's kicking a man with a rusty spoon and pouring salt in the wound, but she's, again, justified. i get where she was coming from. and then, of course, she dies for her kid after marrying the guy who relentlessly bullied her quote-unquote best friend for their entire school careers. but, like i said, canon lily is, in many ways, a contradiction.

lily is basically a plot device. she pushes everyone's narrative but her own, and does little else.

of course, this trend would continue in fanon. fanon lily exists to be the perfect girl who gets really angry over the slightest injustice, and of course, she gets to be one half of one of the oldest enemies-to-lovers "it was just sexual tension" cliche pairings in the book. she's just,,, a mary sue. in so many fics, so many headcanons, she's just pettigrew's stand-in, a girl to form a gang with marlene, mary and dorcas—who happen to be more undeveloped ocs who also get the woobify mary sue treatment—to parallel the marauders. there is nothing compelling about her character when she's presented as a saint, and even less when she's supposedly the other moral compass for the marauders that doesn't actually work because she thinks that james is cute.

and this brings me to the next topic. jily. what, why, how. this was supposed to be a healthy, happy relationship that would have lasted in the long run? absolutely not. even for its time, i can't say that i see it lasting.

first of all, jkr presents james' crush on lily as just that: a crush. a mildly obsessive one, but a crush nonetheless, which she tries to liken to the pulling of pigtails. and then, we see that james' way of getting her to go out with him consists of blackmail, and when that doesn't work, he resorts to threatening her. this could have been set aside if he had actually, genuinely changed when they started spending more time together, but as we're told by sirius and remus, he didn't. he just got better at hiding what he was up to. and it has to be that he hid it, because if she knew, this further damages the character that she's set up to have and paints her out to be either unable to stand up to him or an enabler.

regardless, they get married. and while i have trouble believing that it was out of genuine love, there are scenarios that could make some semblance of sense. it's wartime, after all, and maybe lily is worried about her stability in the wizarding world, so why not marry into an established family whose son is already showing interest? or perhaps, she falls into the trap of every bad boy cliche ever, and she thinks to herself, well, i got him to be better then, maybe i can get him to do even better in the future. or maybe, she doesn't get into a relationship with him immediately and sees him on and off, until eventually, she accidentally gets pregnant and they scramble to have a shotgun wedding so as not to leave lily alone at nineteen with a baby. or maybe they marry each other because they're there and sure, neither of then is ready and they don't know what love even is but what else is there to do when there's a dark lord about? anyways, the point is, they get married.

and then what? if we count pottermore into canon, he goes on to further damage her relationship with petunia and vernon, to the point where she ends up crying. if we don't, she fades into the background enough that nobody has anything to say about her. she's harry's mum, she's james' wife, lily potter, she was kind and smart and brave and that's it. her agency is gone, anything else we have of her personality is gone.

jily just,,, wasn't built to last. and, yeah, this,,, this is a hill i'll die on.

same with wolfstar, honestly. there are so many reasons why it wouldn't work, but fanon has made it so fucking prevalent that it's literally everywhere no matter where you look.

first of all, i've said it before and i'll say it again. sirius is more likely to get with james that he is to ever end up in a relationship with remus. their chemistry is just,,, underdeveloped. net zero for a relationship.

secondly, sirius instigated the werewolf prank, and lupin would have paid the price for it. this could have been overlooked, but he doesn't seem the slightest bit guilty about any of it when it's brought up in poa. he could have been responsible for lupin losing the security of his place at hogwarts in the best case scenario, and in the worst case, his life. and he seems to look forward to full moons, even though they clearly aren't pleasant for remus, which,,, yeah, you're going to have fun, but like, maybe be concerned about the fact that your friend undergoes excruciating pain and it isn't a pleasant time for him? read the room, my g.

thirdly, they don't trust each other as much as fanon seems to think they do. they were both willing to believe each other the traitor before ever suspecting pettigrew. sirius thought remus gave away the potters, hell, he thought remus was a spy for voldemort, and remus was convinced that sirius was a mass murderer. neither of them needed to be convinced.

fourthly, maybe i'm reading too much into it, but like. sirius had money. remus had no money, since, yk, he was a werewolf and struggling for cash and still, sirius,,, did not leave him any money. i feel like if you had money to spare, you would give to your friend who is literally poor. but, again, maybe i'm reading too much into it and this isn't as valid a point as i think it is.

and ehh, the fifth reason is that it's,,, actually very much not the representation for the ltgbt community that fanon says it is but y'all aren't ready for that conversation.

anyways, just,,, even when you set the couple shit aside, the power dynamics between everyone here is fucked. like, james and sirius are clearly at the top of food chain calling the shots and egging each other on. then there's lily, who isn't even a marauder, but is always ever-so-slightly above remus but still not on their level, because, well. neither of them actually listen to her. remus is the novelty friend, the friend who's,,, alright, i guess, but you keep them around specifically because they're funny or they can dance or they have something that you can either show off to other people or keep as your little inside joke, your little secret, yk? and peter is just sort of there. like, yeah, he can do what we can but does that make him as good as we are? no. does he have a funny little something about him that we can exploit? nah. therefore he sits at the bottom. and like, yeah, james and sirius are on the same level, but james is yanking sirius' chain, not the other way around. anyways, like i said. power dynamic's fucked and it bothers me that we were given all of this, and fanon decided to take it all and throw it away so they could give us flamboyant!badboi!sirius black x softboi!motherhen!remus lupin going on double dates with feminist!trustfundbaby!james potter and saint!lily evans while ignoring peter pettiwho?

theseus' fucking ship, indeed.

anyways, this needed to be said. it might not make as much sense as i want it to, considering it's 4:12 in the morning as i'm posting this, after taking a break from writing to do some research and coming across way too much content about fanon marauders, but it's here and it still makes enough sense that you can read it and understand what i mean. and like, at the end of the day, you can go ahead and headcanon whatever you please, you can write fic and make art and do whatever you like, just,,, remember that they're exactly that. headcanons. stop presenting fanon as canon. please. i'm literally begging. we actually have evidence against it. just,,, acknowledge that they're headcanons and stop putting them forward as though they're able to fit into canon. please.

[actualbird]

the song I Won't Say (I'm In Love) but it's a vyn/artem animatic but i cant make animatics so i just rewrote the song with added scene directions

note 1: song rewritten not to imply that vyn has had many shitty past relationships, but that he just cannot believe that of all people to be in love with, it's ARTEM

note 2: i made this while sick, dont question it too much

-

[VYN is in his garden, looking upon his plants with a solemn yet frustrated expression]

VYN: If there's a prize for rotten judgement, I’d rather not like to win that Artem’s not worth the aggravation That’s idiotic, my heart won’t buy that

[From the bushes, MC, LUKE, and MARIUS reveal themselves, ready to support/badger VYN about his feelings realization]

MC, LUKE, and MARIUS: Who d'you think you're kidding He's the earth and heaven to you Try to keep it hidden, Honey we can see right through you Girl you can't conceal it We know how you're feeling Who you thinking of

[VYN, alarmed, grabs a spade and starts gesturing with it threateningly, though only at MARIUS]

VYN: No chance no way I won't say it, no no!

[MARIUS, very alarmed and offended that he’s the only one being targeted, starts running while MC and LUKE continue the vocals backing]

MC and LUKE: (You swoon you sigh why deny it oh oh)

VYN: It's too cliche I won't say I'm in love!

[VYN momentarily abandons his mission of hunting MARIUS for sport, more focused on huffily continuing his verse so the scene won’t stall]

VYN: He’s cold yet caring; a contradiction But if it’s love, then I have doubts My head is screaming "Get a grip, girl Unless you're dying to cry your heart out.”

[MC, LUKE, AND MARIUS pop up from behind the bench. MARIUS is hiding behind MC and LUKE though.]

MC, LUKE, and MARIUS: Girl you can't deny it Who you are is how you're feeling Baby we're not buying Hon we saw you hit the ceiling Face it like a grown-up When you gonna own up that you got got got it bad

[VYN turns, squinting dangerously as he reaches for a pair of garden shears. MARIUS goes pale.]

VYN: No chance no way I won't say it, no no...

[MC and LUKE realize a murder may occur. LUKE kicks the shears out of VYN’s reach]

MC, LUKE, and MARIUS (though it must be noted that MARIUS is now singing in a tone that somehow communicates “Dude, what the fuck? Why ONLY ME???): (Give up, give in, check the grin you're in love)

[VYN, aggravated at being weaponless, decides to be threatening by just singing with gravitas]

VYN: This scene won't play I won't say I'm in love!

MC, LUKE, and MARIUS: (We'll do it until you admit you're in love)

VYN: You're way off base I won't say it! Get off my case I won't say it!

MC, LUKE, and MARIUS: (Girl don't be proud it's okay you're in love)

[VYN sighs, as if tired all of a sudden. He reaches out to a nearby flower he, fingers tracing its petals, as he sings the last line softly]

VYN: At least out loud...I won't say I'm in love

[forever-rogue]

Hii! From Prompt List 1 can u do number 3,51 and 243 w javier peña please ✨

Also i love ur writings so much ⭐

3. "Am I supposed to be scared of you?"

51. "Go on them, tell me. Tell me you don't love me."

243. "Oh my God, you're in love with her!"

Enjoy!

Javier Peña x Fem!Reader ; warnings: language

Javier Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Tell me," there was nothing but venom lacing your voice as you stared at Javier. Your face was slick with tears as you tried to keep your lips from trembling. You wanted to break down, gods knew you did, but you weren't about to give him the satisfaction. You would do that as soon as he walked out of your apartment for what would be the last time, "go on then, tell me. Tell me you don't love me."

"Don't do this cariño," the bastard had the audacity to try and call you by your pet name, "you know this is the way. The only way."

"You're such a damn liar," you hissed at him. You should have seen this coming. You should have known. 

You shouldn't have fallen in love with Javier Peña.

"We always knew what we were doing was wrong," it was a meek insistence, hollow and empty and neither of you quite believed it, "it was never supposed to go this far."

"This far? This far?" you wanted to scream, to grab his shoulders and shake him, to knock some sort of sense into him, but instead you just stared at him, eyes glossy with unshed tears, "did you think we would fuck and that’s it? I told you it was never going to be just that. And you never seemed to have a problem with that."

"You need to stop," this time it was more firm and his nostrils flared as he tried to control the hit of rage that had seemed into his bones, "we both knew what this was from the start. It was just sex."

"You're here, in my apartment, lying to my face," you sniffled as you dabbed at your eyes and wished you would wake up to find this was a horrible dream. You wished you'd wake up, wrapped in his arms while he slept soundly, like you had so many other times. You wished, you wished, you wished. But that didn't change the reality of the situation, nor the gravitas of it, "if you can look in my eyes and tell me you don't love me - never loved me - do it. If you can do it, I'll let this go."

"You're being ridiculous," he huffed and rolled his eyes ever so slightly as his hands went to his hips. 

"I'm being ridiculous?" your voice rose up about two octaves as you realized just how hysterical you did sound. But it didn't matter - once Javier had made up his mind, he was a stubborn piece of work. But you refused to let this go, "I'm not the grown man that won't even admit his own feelings. That runs every time something comes up. That shuts out everyone and everything anytime it gets real."

"Maybe you're just thinking too much into this!" and there it was - the fiery temper that he was famous for. It wasn't shocking because it had suddenly jumped out; it was shocking because he'd never raised his voice at you, "maybe you just want to make something out of nothing! It was never anything - it was just sex. Why can't you just accept that?"

"Am I supposed to be scared of you?" you raised your voice and yelled back with just as much as anger and spite as he spit at you, "you're a liar and a coward. You can't even look at me - if you don't love me fucking tell me!"

"I'm not doing this right now," he huffed as stepped over the threshold, shoulders rising and falling in rapid movements as tired to control his anger, "I'm done - whatever we had, its over now."

"Javier," you tried to reach for his hand, but he was quick to pull out of your grasp, causing you to sigh heavily, "don't walk away - not like this."

"There's nothing left to say," he insisted quietly, staring at the floor, rather than daring to look in your eyes, "I'll see you at work and that's that. Everything else is done. Obviously you cannot handle this."

"You're just going to walk away," you were incredulous as a few tears of grief and anger rolled down your cheeks, "fuck you, Javier. I hate you." 

You slammed the door shut before he could say anything else. Tears were heavily pouring down your cheeks and spilling onto the cool slide as you sank to the floor. Small ugly little sobs racked your body as you gave up and in to your pathetic inner, upset self. You loved him, you really, really did. You knew that. 

You knew he loved you too. You knew he was scared. Damn scared. And it was okay - if he would have opened up to you.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“You look like shit,” Steve barely looked up from his coffee and morning review of documents as Javier stormed in, practically slamming himself down in his chair. He groaned and flipped Steve the middle finger before reaching for his cigarettes, effortlessly lighting it up and leaning back, “what happened to you?”

Javier closed his eyes but remained silent, a vain attempt at letting his mind wander too far. He hadn’t slept the night before, mind and thoughts racing over and over with snippets of his conversation with you. Your words had stuck in his mind all night: coward, coward, coward. And you had been right. 

He was a coward; pathetic and scared all because he didn’t want to risk getting hurt. Or hurting you. And in the end he had managed to do both. It was never supposed to go this far, it was never supposed to be anything more than sex, but the lines had become so blurred and so fast, and before he knew - he was in love.

And that terrified the shit out of him. 

So he reacted how he tended to do; to push you away. To isolate himself. It was supposed to be easy, supposed to work. All it had down was leave him with regret eating him up alive. He should have admitted you were right, he should have confessed. If there was anyone worth taking a chance on - it was you. He’d known it was you from the first time you’d had sex it was just...different. Different from every other experience he’d had. And gods, how he’d slowly fallen for all the little things you did, all your little quirks. 

Your smile, that laugh, those eyes that seemed to convey a million emotions at once. Your steadfast stubbornness, the fact that you always called him on his bullshit, how you never backed down from confrontation, how you gave so much to others and asked for so little. How you’d chide him for getting even a papercut, and how you’d love him, even when he didn’t ask you to. How you;d take him in your arms, wordlessly, and give him everything he needed and then some, how you’d chase away his fears and pain. How - 

Everything. 

He was in deep, and when it came down to the wire, he’d run. Like a liar and a coward. 

His eyes snapped open and landed on the desk, the spot you normally occupied and found it empty. A scowl tugged on his features as his brows knitted together, “where is she?”

“Hmm?” Steve looked back up and followed Javi’s line of sight before he shrugged lightly, “I talked to her this morning, said she wasn’t feeling good.”

“Bullshit,” he hissed under his breath, just enough for Steve to hear, “did she say when she’s coming back?”

“I dunno, Javi,” Steve sighed heavily, “she’s a grown woman, if she’s not feeling well, she’s not feeling well. She’ll be back when she’s better. Calm down.”

“Steve-”

“Oh god - you’re in love with her. Aren’t you?” the smirk tugging on his features was undeniable as Javier rolled his eyes but refused to look over, “I knew it - everyone knew it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” his mouth went dry as he looked at his partner and felt like slamming his head against the wall. Of course. It’s so obvious.

“I mean...it’s just...everyone’s known, Javi,” Steve couldn’t help but laugh at the surprised look on his face, “it’s so obvious. You’re different because of her - for her. You might be the last person to know. Shit...you haven’t told her, have you?”

Javier made a small sound in his throat but otherwise remained silent as he stared at your desk. Not feeling well my ass, he thought to himself before running a hand over his tired face. 

But you didn’t come back the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. Or - 

Shit. He had really messed up. 

You were all he could think about, plaguing his waking and sleeping hours as he tried to figure out what to do. His mind was on you as he sat in the office and smoked cigarette after cigarette and glossed over paperwork. You were in his every thought as he and Steve chased after some of Escobar’s men; so much that he almost slipped up and let them get away. 

By Friday afternoon, he couldn’t handle it any longer. This was ridiculous and he was going to put an end to it all, one way or another.

Javier almost jumped out of his seat, grabbing his leather jacket and half empty pack of cigarettes without a word as he stormed out of the office. Steve barely looked up in time to catch him, his question dying on his tongue as he watched his partner storm out. He didn’t have to ask to know exactly what was going on.

Finally, he thought to himself shaking his head, finally. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Open the door," Javier's voice was commanding but it still managed to shake as he rapped his knuckles against the peeling paint of your door, "cariño, I know you're in there…"

And you were. You were curled up on the couch in your pajamas, an empty bottle of wine on the table as an old, cheesy romance movie played in the background. The lights were off and you were tired, but you still couldn't manage to find sleep. 

You'd avoided going into the office for the last couple of days, feigning illness and earning a scoff from the ambassador, but nothing else was said. In the time you'd been in Colombia, you'd never so much as used a single sick day, so they didn't question you. But of course your partners did. Well, one of them. The other had known exactly what was going and it had been eating him up inside, even if he wasn't ready to admit it.

But his little heart to heart with Steve had inspired him - practically shoved him in the right direction. You'd been on his mind rent free since he'd left. Hell - for much longer than that.

"Go away," you managed to croak out before burrowing further into your pillow, feeling a fresh wave of tears spill down your cheeks at his presence. Knowing you almost had him but didn't was heartbreaking, "you made it clear we have nothing, Javier.”

“Open the damn door,” there was a tone in his voice that you hadn’t heard before - was that...desperation? Javier paused and sighed heavily, “please. I-I...fuck, I fucked up.”

“If you’re going to play some sort of cruel joke, save your breath,” you huffed, “like you said, we are nothing. We’ll be work partners and that’s it.”

There was a beat of silence and a part of you thought he left, you were almost relieved at the thought. But before you knew it, you heard the keys jingling in the lock and the door opened; you cursed yourself for giving him a spare set. Either way, he probably could have figured out how to get in anyways. He just couldn’t let it go.

“Cariño,” he came and swiftly made his way over to you, frowning when he saw you all curled up and the discarded mess around you, "I-"

"Go away, Javi," it was a pathetic plea as you glanced up at him. His heart felt it was going to shatter and break at the sight of your red, glossy eyes as you sniffled at him, "haven't you done enough? Or should I be apologizing for having feelings and being honest about them?"

"I should be begging you for forgiveness," he dropped to his knees beside you, a hand tentatively reaching out to you, as he tried to see if you would pull away. Despite wanting to, instead wishing you could yell and scream, you stay rooted in position as he gently pushed your hair out of your hair. He brushed his thumb gently over your cheek as your eyes fluttered closed at the familiar touch, "I am so sorry."

"Sorry for what?" your brow furrowed at his words, "you made yourself very clear."

"I fucked up - you're right. I am a liar and a coward," he confessed as your eyes snapped back open to meet his. They were gentle, softened in the corners with the crinkles that you adored so much, "I realized I had feelings and I panicked. I shut you out and hurt you."

"My head hurts, Javier," you sighed slightly, "just get to the point."

"I love you," he admitted and suddenly it felt your heart had dropped into your stomach as you stared at him. He was sure you must have heard the wild beating of his heart as he tried to anticipate your reaction, "I-I'm in love with you."

"If this is your idea of a joke," you moved his hand away and sat up, trying to prepare yourself for any possibility, "its even more fucked up than just breaking my heart. I knew what this started this and I should have stopped it when I started to catch feelings but I-"

But Javier didn't let you say anything further. Instead, he cut you off by crashing his lips onto yours and kissing you deeply - slowly and with meaning. It was an easy dance, one you'd done hundreds of times before. But this time just felt...different.

His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you close, and yours wound around his neck. Effortless and easy, just like everything with him was. It was anything frenzied or hurried, but slow and gentle as he tried to convey his every thought and feeling through his touch. He thought his heart might burst when he felt your smile whilst his lips, as you carded a hand through his dark locks.

Only when you were both breathless and drunk off of each other did you pull apart. He stared at you, his gaze soft as you grabbed his face and delicately cradled it before pressing another kiss to his lips.

"I hope this means what I think it means or I'm going to have to murder you," you whispered against his lips, as his own tugged into a smile, "because I am in love you and I don't know if I can ever change that."

"It means I'm an idiot," he admitted, "a cowardly fool that ran when things got real - although they were always real. Its obvious, isn't it? I just never realized."

"That's because you gave a thick skull, Peña," you gently tapped a knuckle against the side of his head, "and you need to learn to be more open - with me anyway. You don't have to be afraid, Javi. Not with me; I'm not going anywhere, you know that. I know you - the real you - and nothing about you scares me or whatever you think it is. I love you and that means every little bit of you."

"I…" he paused for a moment, inhaling and exhaling slowly as your words washed over him. His heart had never felt warmer or more light as he realized the immense weight your words held. He closed his eyes and nodded, gently pressing his forehead against yours, "I love you. Fully and completely cariño. Even if I am an idiot."

"My idiot," you promised softly, "just talk to me next time, okay? Don't run and hide - stay with me. It'll be okay, you will always have me."

"Fuck," he whispered as he pulled you into his arms and wrapped you up in the tightest hug possible, "I'm sorry - so sorry. I love you."

"I love you, Javier," you whispered, "stay with me?"

"Always."

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[noobdls]

a really long and slightly unhinged thoughts and feelings dump about tales of vesperia: first strike 

love these frames a lot actually bc you can immediately see the tone being set for both of their characters. flynn being extremely serious and determined and yuri just looking bored, straight away showing how being here isnt really for him. even down to the little detail of his collar being unbuttoned, he does not belong here. 

followed by a montage of essentially, yuri just following flynn. its such a simple narrative device but it works so great to displace him. always a step behind flynn, really demonstrating how right now he isnt following his own path but is instead being led along. 

i think the movie very blatantly sets up how it will be a journey of both of them growing up. i actually really love how it manages to place yuri as a clear protagonist yet manages to be pretty equally about him and flynn with an overarching arch about the greater world story. 

very soon thereafter yuri is practically thrown into a position where he has to grow up. forced to kill off a shell of his comrade and also live with that guilt as he now has to repent and take responsibility. his attitude towards repede changes from seeing him as a nuisance to actively caring for him, checking up on him in the middle of the night, and overfeeding him to fill the hole in his heart (lmao) 

this part gets to me because up until now we have mostly just seen them bicker and argue and i think here this was yuri genuinely trying to reach out and seek support but instead ends up being faced with hostility which leads to their major clash. which btw is my fav part of the movie. i think this escalation works really well for them 

and to be exact this is probably my favourite line of the movie. yuri deliberately provoking flynn to get him to be fucking real and stop pretending. kinda raw imo. like he’d rather get the shit beaten out of him and it be genuine than have to watch flynn try to upkeep his little fake persona 

that being said i dont think his persona is fully just him being fake. i think he’s carrying a lot of baggage and trauma throughout this movie. all the repressed anger and desire to uphold ideals. be the perfect knight follow the orders, thats right. straying from orders and acting on your own gets you killed. its an internal struggle. a desire for things to be simple, black and white, etc

i think this is one of the reasons why i ended up liking the movie so much, i just feel like it adds a lot of depth to flynn’s character. in the game story line he’s fairly put together - neat and proper. but in fs he’s just oh so god damn angry and immature, as expected of a growing up storyline. but nonetheless, i just love seeing him in this conflicted enraged state. and i think it adds more gravitas to his character in the game as we now know composure doesnt come naturally to him and he had his own issues to resolve and grapple with before he could become this reliable ‘boring’ character he is in the game 

meanwhile yuri receives a somewhat contrasting lesson. if you want to protect things dear to you, you need to take matters into your own hands. he’s learnt this first hand and it is now being reaffirmed, it could be argued that repede is the first thing he has wanted to protect

this i include because i thin its a very clear signifier to the change in his character. yuri at the start of this movie is very laid back, goofy, playful doesnt really wanna be there. but now he is forced to grapple with the concept of morality, sacrifice and choice. he becomes an active participant in the knight’s mission, really pushing for it and supporting the cause. he joins the knights because he has ‘nothing better to do’ but now he is learning about the importance of protecting others, and treasuring those dear to you. 

and then he loses another friend. although this sacrifice is not in vain as it is for the good of the people, he’s still forced into a position where he in essence has to let someone dear to him die. this film is extremely brutal in showing yuri how unfair the world is, and forces him to make a lot of tough choices. which i think very clearly then reflect in the game story line, these choices he’s being forced to make here reflect the ones he makes in the game

in his own way flynn is also learning about sacrifice, and how it isnt always meaningless. he is first hand seeing how fredrock’s actions have impacted the common people. because he took a risk, these people now live. its a bittersweet lesson but i think her flynn can finally let go of some of the baggage he has been holding onto in regards to his dad. it teaches him the kind of knight he wants to be and reinforces what matters the most - people. 

finally, in juxtaposition with their arguing and bickering at the start of the movie they are finally able to look at each other earnestly, and be honest with one another. they finally grew up and can acknowledge their own strengths, and take their own paths knowing that each is searching for his own way to make the world better. they are forever bonded by their experiences.  

in contrast to the opening montage, by the end of the movie yuri walks past flynn not even looking back. finally ready to take his own path 

some closing thoughts mostly shippy thoughts:

i think what i really liked about the movie is that prior to it i had a fairly two dimensional headcanon of their relationship, with flynn just being a simp for yuri, and yuri just being an easy going guy and accepting that love. (again this is just a headcanon i built in my head). a very giver receiver type deal. but in the movie i feel like flynn is just so angry?? he’s just so mad at the world and doesnt know how to navigate his emotions. and while they clearly have a history they almost dont get along? or more like, they know each other incredibly well but they’re not really understanding each other 

so while at first my head canon for them was pretty unbalanced i think the movie essentially just added depth to them as characters and balanced out their dynamic for me. knowing yuri had to deal with this angry bratty flynn puts them on a more equal footing for me when flynn has to deal with all of yuri’s bs 

because i think it’s true of real relationships that at different times different parties will be more on the giver or receiver end, meeting each other’s needs and being there for each other. so when i didn’t have this backstory for yuri really coming through for flynn (like, sticking with him and helping him understand his dads death wasnt in vain ultimately helping him overcome his trauma). before this the relationship in my head almost felt one sided or as if one liked the other a lot more. but yeah i think yuris words and actions in first strike really demonstrate the depth of their relationship and how much he really does care for flynn

and now i just find it interesting navigating their relationship with all this prior knowledge because i think a lot of depth can be now added to small actions and situations. navigating this push and pull and thinking about how their relationship would organically develop. because i think it’s not until the end of the movie where they sort of end up on the same page again and can move forward, but then how do they go from that to a romantic/ sexual relationship etc

[holdmecloser-gandydancer]

read here or on ao3!

Being a Regulator was one of the worst jobs Killian had ever decided to take. Don’t get her wrong, she knew that the purpose she served was great; she totally believed in doing everything in her power to keep the world safe, but it was so incredibly lonely. A good portion of Killian’s job description involved being prepared to kill any of her colleagues at a given moment. Didn’t exactly make for the most fun office relationships.

It was scary to think that at any moment, anyone in the Bureau could make a break against their procedures and require - well – regulation. When the Director had first approached about employment, Killian didn’t think much about it.

Okay, so my duties would be to stop people who use these things that you’re looking for?

In very simple terms, yes.

Great. When do I start?

Are you certain, Killian? This is going to be a highly dangerous job.

Listen, Madam Director, it beats the current gig I got so I’m in.

As the Bureau grew and turned into something much grander and more professional, Killian began to excel. She proved herself time and time again to be the most competent Regulator that the Bureau had. But it was that fact that she grappled with most.

Killian tried to keep a neutral face when she entered the Director’s office. She was being sent down planetside, though the details of the mission hadn’t yet been revealed to her.

“Killian, thank you for coming so quickly. As you know, your services are needed,” The Director’s face looked troubled and far away. “It’s Brian.” Killian let out a sharp, exasperated laugh.

“No way, Brian? Magic Brian? Director, surely there’s some kind of mistake! He wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Killian thought of the highly complimentary, dramatic drow she’d met her first day on the base. They had both been in the first crop of employees and they had become fast friends. Everyone had taken to calling him Magic Brian because he was simply too bombastic to have such a plain name. And he was one of the most accomplished arcanists any of the Bureau employees had seen.

“Killian, I wish that were the case. Unfortunately, during his reconnaissance mission to locate the Phoenix Fire Gauntlet, he began to turn his back on the Bureau. Rather than seeking the Gauntlet for the good of the organization, we have it on good authority that he has started to seek it out for personal gain. In fact, we believe that he has,” the Director paused for a moment, considering her words carefully. “We believe he has hostages of sorts. It’s vital that you get down there, deal with him, and if you can, retrieve the Gauntlet.” Killian’s stomach fell. Regulating was one thing. That was her job, one she was very good at. But the idea of having to actually handle one of the relics herself? It scared her more than she cared to say.

“And I’m going alone?”

“Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be another option. Leeman is in the midst of preparing for a reclaiming mission himself and I don’t feel comfortable sending another Seeker down because I do fear that would put you in a hard position. Furthermore, I don’t believe the other Regulators are capable yet, frankly.” Killian’s thoughts rushed to Carey Fangbattle and to Boyland. Her regulator team. She was the unofficial captain, she supposed. She’d been at the Bureau for a few months longer than the two of them. And she also understood the Director’s unspoken addendum. She didn’t want to send more Regulators than necessary in case Killian herself had to be dealt with. Killian clenched her jaw, hoping no hesitation showed on her face.

“I’ll go get suited up and meet you and Avi at the hangar.”

“Actually, it’s just going to be Avi. He’s now going to be the sole one in charge of the Bureau’s transportation needs. The Millers have been working on adjustments to our system that make it easier to be manned by a single operator.”

“Oh shit, good for him.”

“Yes, he’s proven himself to be quite competent.” Lucretia reached into her desk and retrieved parchment and an inkwell. Killian turned to leave the Director’s office. “Oh, and Killian?”

“Yes, Madam Director?” the Director pressed her lips into a tight line.

“Don’t disclose the details of this to anyone yet. I know this is likely going to hit everyone hard and I frankly don’t want you to have to deal with that. I’ll figure out how to break the news.” Killian nodded and exited the office.

 

Late in the night she returned from the ruins of Phandalin, Killian found herself in the voidfish’s chambers. There had been a miraculous amount of excitement at the fact that a relic had been recovered and that the Bureau’s Reclaimer team had grown by three. Killian had done her best to slip away, sight unseen after she debriefed with the Director. She didn’t exactly feel like celebrating.

Instead, she felt like sitting on the ground in front of the voidfish’s tank, basking in its gentle light. She knew that Brian's Rites of Remembrance had been hastily done since the Director informed the Bureau of his treason. Traitors don’t get honor. But they do get grief, Killian thought to herself. She knew that Brian was too far gone by the time she reached him. She knew that he’d been ready to kill her with no second thought. She knew that he’d betrayed the Bureau and that betrayals wouldn’t stand in the organization. But all those facts didn’t keep her heart from twinging at the thought of Brian’s life just being wiped from memory.

“How’re you holding up?” Killian turned and saw Johann stride out from the shadows of the large room. She sighed and shrugged. Johann gazed at the voidfish for a moment before sitting on the ground beside her. They sat in silence for a while until a squeak by the doorway caused them both to turn around. Avi gave a meek wave before entering the room.

“Hey Avi,” Killian murmured quietly. He said nothing as he sat on Killian’s other side. The trio’s gazed up at the voidfish.

“Killian,” Avi began suddenly, “How was he?”

“He wasn’t himself. Not at all. I don’t know if that made it easier or harder, to be honest. I'm just glad that it wasn’t me who did him in.”

“Right, it was one of the new guys?” Johann turned to look at Killian for a moment. She nodded.

“Yeah, that new wizard, Taako, I think. I just still can’t believe he’s gone.” Killian didn’t tell anyone about the fact that she didn’t land a single hit on Magic Brian or his stupid fucking spider. She went running as soon as she could.

Avi tilted his head back and frowned. “Shit. His fiancé.” The trio grimaced. They all had lovely and ornate invitations in their own dormitories to Brian’s wedding. But at least the voidfish was supposed to handle all the messy things for the non-inoculated.

“I'm gonna miss that son of a bitch.” Johann mused quietly.

“Me too.” A gravitas-filled voice made the trio turn. The Director stood in the doorway, flanked by Carey and Boyland. They approached, staying mostly silent. Carey squeezed Killian’s shoulder and the six of them stayed in the voidfish’s chambers for some time.

 

Killian really did her best to keep from getting close to her coworkers, especially after what she was forced to do in Wave Echo Cave. It was terrifying to think that someday someone could be her coworker and then her assignment the very next day. Annoyingly, though, Carey Fangbattle seemed determined to break through Killian’s walls. She had done her best to get Killian to open up about her past, her fears, and everything in-between. Killian did her best to keep the dragonborn woman at arm’s length but the rogue was persistent.

“So, what was your deal before the Bureau?” she had asked one day while the pair was sparring. Boyland was home visiting family.

“Uh, you know, typical stuff. Pretty small family, we’re from a town outside of Neverwinter. They’re mostly all fighters so I took up that mantle. It was a pretty basic choice. What about you?”

“Heh, less basic than that. Small family too, just my parents, my brother, and me. He became a bard and I became a rogue. Our parents hate both these paths for both of us,” Carey chuckled after dodging a particularly swift sideswipe from Killian. “But you can’t ever seem to please barbarians, you know?” Killian laughed stepped out of the way of a deft roll Carey did. They continued sparring and joking for hours.

 

Killian found herself back in the voidfish’s chambers after she heard about Leeman Kessler and again after she heard about Captain Captain Bane. She hadn’t been particularly close to either of them be she saw that both these losses hurt Avi and Lucretia, respectively. Both times, she found herself surrounded by the five others who’d come together after the death of Magic Brian. They never coordinated it or spoke about it but something about basking in the company of each other in the glow of the voidfish gave them all a comfort none of them would admit to needing. At one point, Carey began to slip in beside Killian, forcing Avi to scoot to the orc’s other side. The rest of them changed position pretty frequently, depending on when they arrived. The Director eventually began siting on the floor with the five of them. When they were all in their unofficial ceremony for Captain Captain Bane, everyone had the courtesy to ignore the few tears shed by the Director.

 

Killian began to grow closer to Carey which scared the orc. It wasn’t that she didn’t love all the joy that the rogue brought her. That wasn’t it at all. But she couldn’t help but think about the fact that part of both their job descriptions involved being prepared to destroy their colleagues at any given moment. It wasn’t that Killian didn’t want to grow closer to Carey. If she was being honest, she’d love nothing more. She was just terrified.

 

Five of them gathered after Killian and Carey returned from the Miller’s lab. Boyland’s Rites ceremony wouldn’t be performed for some time. None of them were prepared to write out every detail of the man who’d brightened their days countless times.

They’d all already gathered after learning of the passing of Maureen Miller, but this time was different.

Maureen Miller and Lucas Miller would not receive Rites, though that didn’t stop the group from mourning them. Killian and Carey had quietly agreed to keep up the charade Magnus had set up in the lab. They both intended on interrogating him about it, but this was not the place to unwind it.

Truthfully, all of them were openly crying. Their tears were mostly quiet but they traced bright, shiny paths down their faces in the glow of the tank.

“Fucking Boyland. Him and his fucking cigars,” Carey said, leaning against Killian. She said nothing, instead choosing to wrap a protective arm around the dragonborn woman.

“I just can’t stop thinking about all his kids,” Avi’s face was unusually solemn. He retrieved his flask from his pocket and took a swig from it before passing it to Johann.

“Well, I mean, I understand that he was using a relic but,” Johann took a swig and passed the flask to Killian “Lucas was just a kid. I can’t believe that the Miller line is just… gone.”

Killian drank from the flask and passed it to Carey. “I can’t believe all the sketchy shit he was doing in that lab.” Carey gulped down some Brandywine and tentatively passed the flask to the Director.

“Grief is one hell of a drug,” the Director said hollowly, draining the remainder of the flask. “He was destroyed by the loss of his mother. Losing a loved one makes you do terrible things, especially if you think you could get them back.” She slid the flask back to Avi. The four others in the chamber glanced at the Director but said nothing. She was a woman who seemed to be haunted by griefs none of them could ever imagine.

 

Killian let her guard down at last. She let Carey inside her walls and was truthfully never happier. There was still an ever-present stripe of fear in Killian’s heart but somehow, when Carey was in her arms, it didn’t matter so much. Killian decided to appreciate and love Carey while she was alive rather than wait until she was despairing in front of a cryptic fish with an assortment of her closest friends and confidants.

 

After the day of Story and Song, after the Hunger had been defeated, after the base had been cleaned up, after a world of revelations had come to light, Killian and Carey found themselves in the voidfish’s chambers. Well, what used to be the voidfish’s chambers. Fisher was no longer there, the tank was shattered, and there was a noticeable absence in the room. They still sat in the spots they’d become so used to sitting in, though the room was far darker than it used to be. They both had their head in their hands when they heard familiar footsteps pad into the room. Avi practically collapsed next to Killian. She wrapped an arm around her friend and pulled him in close. None of them could speak. What could you say?

“I can’t believe it. In his last fucking act he just –“ Avi broke his sentence off and shook his head. He reached into his pocket and fished out his flask, dented but still functional. He held it up in a toasting motion and took a deep drink. Killian grabbed it from him and followed suit before passing it to Carey. Like a ghost, the Director, Lucretia, the woman they all suddenly knew in ways they never expected, appeared at Carey’s side. She wordlessly and unceremoniously sat down, taking the flask.

“How are you all doing?” she asked after a sip of Brandywine.

“Uh, not fucking great.” Avi reached out for the flask with one hand, scrubbing tears away with the other.

“Yeah, Madam Director, it’s been a bit of a day,” Carey said hoarsely before burying her face into Killian’s side.

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Well, how are you doing, Lucretia?” Killian asked after a moment of silence. Lucretia barked out a humorless laugh.

“Shitty.”

 

Carey and Killian’s wedding was a beautiful affair, but it wasn’t without its more somber moments. The two women had an entire row of empty chairs reserved at the ceremony. They said nothing about their purpose but it didn’t take much energy to determine their purpose.

At one point in the evening, the pair found themselves sitting with Avi and Lucretia.

“And here’s the beautiful couple!” Avi said brightly, wrapping the brides in a tight hug.

“The ceremony was beautiful,” Lucretia delivered a hug to the couple once they detangled from Avi.

“It really was, huh?” Carey squeezed Killian’s hand. Killian’s smile was tinged with sadness.

“Hey um. Thank you both for being here. There’s already too many people missing and I don’t know how it would have been without you both.”

“Killian, I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.” Lucretia reached a hand out and squeezed the orc’s arm. Avi looked around and snagged four glasses of champagne off a waiter’s tray. After passing glasses to the three women around him, Avi raised his glass in a toast.

“To Johann and Boyland.”

Carey raised her glass. “To Noelle and Captain Captain Bane.”

Lucretia followed suit. “To Maureen Miller and Magic Brian.”

Killian raised her glass. “Fuck it, to Fisher and Junior.” The four laughed gently before toasting.

Killian was never more grateful for her friends than she was in that moment. So much had been lost in the pursuit of balance, but she was grateful that their memories would remain with her. And she was never so glad to have been finished with a job.

[elareine]

JayTim + 42 from the Dialogue Prompts + SPACE AU, pretty please?

I… hope this counts? Technically, it’s not IN space. Though Tim would like to be. 

“You’re mad, Tim,” they said. “Stop trying to speak to aliens,” they said. “You’re wasting your life.” 

Hah. 

Tim has a… set-up. 

What’s the point, he figures, in sending waves out to space where they might be heard in a hundred years, when you could just try to contact the aliens already on Earth? After all, if intelligent life is out there and capable of interstellar travel, and if humans haven’t noticed them yet, then said life must be hiding itself. 

It stands to reason that these aliens must then be communicating among themselves in a form that’s inaccessible to humans. So Tim sat down and build every stupid crazy thing he could think off—unusual wave frequencies, smell transmitters (bad idea), hormone secretors… anything. There are forty devices stashed in his room, and he’s not crazy. 

Because one day, space talks back. 

“Koriand’r, what’s the name again for the thing—the strip around our waists that helps people not be naked? And why do I need it?” 

Tim whirls around. It’s one of his Hail Mary machine—a radio frequency so fucking impractical, no one would ever use it. 

Apart from an alien, apparently. Cause that question cannot have come from a human. Right? 

“I’m not Kori-whatstheirname,” Tim says, trying to sound chill. “But it’s called a belt. We need it because our clothing is factory-made and not tailored to fit; and also because it’s not acceptable to be naked anywhere but some beaches in Germany.”

A long pause, then the voice replies: “You’re human.” 

“Yes. Please don’t hang up. My name’s Tim Drake. Are you an alien?” 

“Uh.” There’s another pause. “I… guess? I’m not from Earth.” 

“Oh, awesome!” Tim is out of his seat and leaning forward, he’s that excited. “Wait, you speak English?” 

“I have a—a device that can mimic your languages.” 

Tim nods. “So like what Google Translate wants to be in another five years.” 

“…I suppose.” A pause. “Actually… can you tell me—who or what is a ‘google,’ exactly? I figured out it’s one of your gods, but what do they do, exactly?” 

“Oh boy, you just opened a whole new avenue of philosophy. I guess it could count as a god? Not in the religious sense, though.” 

“I’m not a boy,” he’s immediately corrected. “I’m a Hzewf.” 

“Okay. Okay.” Tim bounces back on his heels. “How about this? I explain Google to you—I’ll even throw in social media, if you want, but please don’t ask about Reddit, nothing can explain Reddit—and you tell me about the Hsev.” 

“Hzewf. Okay.” 

They talk. When the alien has to leave, Tim’s reluctant to agree—but the next day, the line crackles to life again. 

“You’re a good source,” the alien says. “We… can keep talking. If you don’t mind.” 

The alien’s name is something like j—more guttural sounding than Tim is used to, and with a long pause after—ay—or rather a pause i/j. Tim looks up various phonetic alphabets and dubs him J-a’i. 

The Hzewf have a different variety of gender expression, so the two debate pronouns, and J-a’i decides that ‘he’ will do just fine. He’s addressed as that on a daily basis, anyway, and has never minded. He draws the line at being called a man, though. 

What he is, though, is a total anthropology nerd. He wants to know everything about humans—that’s why he’s here, after all. Koriand’r, it turns out, is another alien from another planet he just met by accident. Apparently, she’s settled down and found love, so J-a’i tries not to bother her too much. The belt thing was a total emergency question. 

And now, he has Tim. 

It’s fun. Tim likes having a secret, a good one, for once. Every night, they talk. No matter how shitty his day is—and most of them are—at the end of it, he can speak with J-a’i and feel like somewhere out there, someone understands. 

And then, one day, there’s a knock on the door. Tim briefly entertains fantasies about the men in black before checking the surveillance camera and seeing an alien instead. 

Oh well. Alright then. 

He opens the door and ushers the visitor in. “J-a’i, I presume?” 

The other being looks relieved when he hears his voice. “Tim.” 

“The very one.” 

Okay. Tim kinda thought J-a’i would be smaller. Tim’s used to short jokes, but having to crane his head back like this feels ridiculous. 

“I need to hide,” J-a’i says, looking very serious. Tim would like to return the expression in kind—this is probably a very stressful and dangerous situation for an alien in hiding, and he should give it the proper gravitas—but he’s so happy. 

“So you came here?” 

“My masking device broke,” J-a’i explains. Ah. That’s why he’s so… uh… colorful. Tim’s really digging the red stripes, though. “I… I had nowhere else to go.” 

“Come with me.” Tim leads them to a cupboard, and then opens the secret door leading down. “You never know when you need a bunker.” 

“You—“ 

“Well, do you need to use it or or don’t you?” 

“I have finally found a being whose paranoia matches my own,” J-a’i says. He does get into the bunker, though. 

“So what now?” Tim asks when they’ve settled down. 

J-a’i shrugs. “I’ll probably have to leave.” 

“Go to another country?” Tim asks, already mentally mapping out his visa applications. 

“Another planet. Home, I think, at least for a while.” 

Oh. Right. What do Hzewf visa applications look like? “So we need to get to your ship.” 

“Yes.” 

“Okay. You left it in Lake Michigan, right? That’s about twelve hours by car. Oh, but,” Tim looks at J-a’i and his very much not human appearance, “should probably only travel in the dark. Luckily, there’s a lot of that in winter. We’ll give your pursuers a few hours, and then I’ll go pack. If the coast is clear, we can leave tomorrow night. What’s the weather like on your planet? Should I bring shorts?”  

Instead of an answer, though, he gets a surprised stare. “You’ll come with me?” 

“Well, duh.” Tim snorts. 

…wait. Uh. Maybe this is too much? J-a’i is self-admittedly desperate to show up here. Just because he didn’t have an alternative, doesn’t mean he wants Tim to invite himself along. None of this stuff is as exciting for him as it is for Tim, and with the bad experience the other creature has recently made with humans—

There’s an expression happening on J-a’i’s face that stops his panic attack in its tracks. Hope. Hope that’s painful because you’re sure that whatever it is you’re being offered will get snatched away from you. 

Tim recognizes the emotion for what it is, because he knows it so well. 

“Are you sure?” J-a’i asks. “We’d be going to space—“

“J-a’i,” Tim interrupts, “I’ve been waiting to hear these words all my life. Literally. All that’s missing is a kiss and we’d be in the final scene of the Hollywood movie of my dreams.” 

“Kissing is that thing you humans do, right? To express affection and/or lust?” 

“Yes.” And because Tim’s a fucking sap who has spent too many hours listening to the voice on the other end of a radio: “When we love each other, too.” 

J’a-i considers that. “Well. I… wouldn’t be opposed, either. Though I don’t understand how it relates to space travel.” 

Tim nudges his shoulder and grins. “Hey, we can work up to that. Tell me some more about your spaceship?” 

J’a-i’s whole face lights up when he talks about his ship. Tim’s heard it in his voice before, but it’s pretty awesome to see it in person. Also? He’s sitting next to an alien, talking about spaceships.

Hell yeah. Space, here Tim comes. 

(I’m taking prompts until the end of the year.) 

[seventfics]

Prickly Urchin

Written for @witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

Prompt: Cursed Relationships: Emhyr var Emreis/Sigismund Dijkstra Rating: T (Swearing Language) Content Warnings: None Summary: Few people still alive can say they've met the emperor before his ascension to the Nilfgaardian throne. A young Count Sigismund Dijkstra is one of them. It's just that neither of them knew.

Read on AO3

* * *

“Ah, my friends. Let me introduce you to Count Sigismund.”

Three old gentlemen turn from their muted conversation to look at him—look up at him. Rare to find a man taller than himself, and today is not that day. Dijkstra keeps his smile pleasant as the eldest of the bunch gives him a firm handshake with a not-so-kind side-eye to his build.

This is the first of his ‘courtly’ parties.

In Dijkstra’s mind, the party is merely reconnaissance. In such small and comfortable confines, he can overhear the concerns of the noble elite as they are being spoken aloud, and not from a spy’s penned cipher. He can make note of their political conflicts with each other, their plans for retirement, and if any of it involves the Redanian crown.

He is an agent first. Count is just what the king has chosen him honorable of, and one more weapon to add to his slowly-expanding network.

Of course, attending personally means actually having to mingle and talk with the peacocking arseholes, which is a fucking pain in the bollocks.

He hates the attention his height affords him in times like these. Being noticed means more people bother him with questions and curiosities. But, it also brings whispers to him, names to remember and investigate later.

Adapting is part of a spy's job.

“I’m a humble servant of the king,” he tells the few who look to be snooping too closely at his unfamiliar presence.

“I am a lettered man of Oxenfurt,” he tells the ones who are searching for a status to preen about.

The rest simply get his name, and the evening fest continues.

He doesn’t care about what the evening is about. The important people, the connections, the information—that’s all that matters. Not the distasteful night’s attraction.

"You must stay for midnight, Sigismund. I've a delightful surprise planned for rare auction."

"Is that so?"

The rich love their parties, he knows, and oh how they love a little risqué presentation to end the night.

He is aware of what attending such a fete would also do to his reputation, but that is why, just as they bring out the girls who look too young to be drinking the chilled wine, he slips away into darkened hallways. No one will remember his face among the partying crowd. After a few rounds of drinks, no one will remember the face of the person that sat next to them all night. And he is counting on that.

Most of the guests have been asked to stay confined to the great hall, with servants moving in and out of special doors that connect to the residence’s kitchens. Dijkstra had been tracking the timing of the servant rotations, waiting for the right opportunity to slip through so his evening could start.

The manor is enormous, full of halls and a dozen small rooms, each with their own designated purpose. A book reading room. A letter reading room. A room that appears to be a library, with all of its books covered in dust as if no one’s moved them in a decade. Certainly the lord of the house has too much time in his fucking hands to have a room dedicated to books he won’t read.

Still, Dijkstra makes note of everything in his mental map. Such a place would rarely get visitors, none but a snoop like him on a night like this.

How strange though. A useless, dusty room for a dozen and more servants to ignore. The rest of the house looks so spotless. Smells like secrets get whispered inside these walls.

As he runs fingers through the spine of a book he recognizes from his old Oxenfurt days, he notices the uniform arc of furniture scraping the floor from repeated movement.

He never could resist a secret.

* * *

Of course he also hates musty cellar air worse than dust.

The side of the library’s shortest bookcase gave way to a slim doorway, one he had to squeeze through with effort. “Of–fuckin’–course there’s a bloody fuckin’ cellar under the fuckin’ richman’s house,” he says, mostly under his breath in case there’s someone at the other end of the sconce-lit hall. “It’s practically required decor. Need to make bloody note of that when I hire a mason for my own godsdamned manor...”

He slows at the small cells that emerge between shadows. There is a bear chained against the floor in one of them.

No—not a bear. Dijkstra squints in the lowlight. It’s long-limbed and man-shaped, with a net of spikes, or quills, sprouting out of its head and back.

Well, well. What a curious prize to have stashed away, is his intrigued train of thought.

The lock clicks when he inspects it, but the thing snaps its teeth at his fingers—suddenly close enough to grab him through the bars—and he is forced to push back to avoid losing a healthy digit. He can’t help the angry, “fuck off,” that comes out of reflex.

After its failed lunge, the creature assumes a defensive crouch. Although the chains keep it from scurrying to a dark corner, it still manages to create a significant distance where Dijkstra cannot touch it or its chain.

Strangely sharp eyes never move off of him, even from behind the shield of a wooly arm.

Dijkstra sniffs, and immediately grimaces at the damp, underground smell attacking his senses. “You’re a cursed thing, aren’t you. Smart. Maybe human once. Well,” he scowls harder at the grime and the pitiful secret inside a richman’s cellar, “you’re lucky I've no interest in mangy pets. I’ve also no taste for pointless cruelty and by the look of things upstairs, that's what's going to happen. So if you’re smart enough to understand a single fucking word I’m saying, get your spiney arse over here so I can pick the bloody lock of that chain.”

The creature stares at him for a gobsmacked, godsdamned minute. A minute that he feels inch by with building sweat, dreading an eavesdropper or worse, the lord coming down to poke and prod at its prize before his little midnight 'auction.'

Slowly, the creature slinks closer, the chain rattling as quietly as chains allow.

Dijkstra blinks to himself. So it is smart.

“I was never here,” he starts, turning the picks almost blindly, “I got lost on the way to the fucking loo, did three circles around the central room. I didn’t see or hear anything about a prickly arse man kept in a basement. I’m not a party person, and I hate competition.”

He mutters his alibi uselessly to the mute creature, with no sarcastic input or snappy retort. It's surprisingly trusting and patient, for an overgrown urchin that has no reason to trust a man he’s never met, especially given the circumstance.

“Phil is going to laugh at me,” Dijkstra continues under his breath anyway, “I came for intrigue and left because the most interesting thing in this house will probably get me killed to have discovered.”

“Thank you.”

Dijkstra raises his hands in mock surprise. “So it speaks.”

As if to be contrary, the urchin man keeps his silence again. Now absurdly sardonic of him. He should be kissing Dijkstra’s foot.

“If that's all, scram.”

The urchin man stands to its full height, which is considerably tall among most men, though not even close to Dijkstra’s imposing build. Not that it seems to be intimidated.

“I won't forget this,” it says, voice heavy with gravitas.

Dijkstra snorts. “You should.”

* * *

Years down the line, Karma finally catches up to the great Redanian Spymaster.

It was only a matter of time. It caught up to Radovid first. Now the Black Sun flies over the Redanian capital.

As a self-serving man, Dijkstra worked for and against both sides of the war. He held no regrets, certainly not for any kings whose heads might have rolled and paved way for better allies and stronger ties to him. He is aware of how an emperor might find that threatening. He’s not like Vernon fucking Roche, who is the most loyal, most frustratingly oath-keeping man he's met.

An enemy to the empire’s will, Dijkstra is brought before the emperor himself. In chains, of course. Can’t have an audience without fucking theatrics. He would do the same.

As he is herded through Foltest’s halls—bastard rest in peace—he is brought to a small staircase, one he takes slowly for his bone-aching leg.

“His Imperial Majesty Emhyr var Emreis, Deithwen Addan yn Carn aep Morvudd, Lord of Metinna...”

Dijkstra zones out half through the list. He is the tallest man in the room and still his eyes fix themselves on the ground, weary from being herded around half the damn Continent only to be sentenced to death the proper bureaucratic way. At the marked end of the final title, he bothers to look up and sees an ordinary man emblazoned in black robes, red brocade, and gold chains.

And strangely sharp eyes.

He’s hit with a feeling like he’s seen them before, even though it should be impossible. A faded memory nearly rewritten itself into uneventful obscurity crawls out of the abyss.

The emperor stands. An unusual occurrence, going by the startled attention of the guards.

He looks at the spymaster but doesn’t say anything besides a short, apparently cut off, “you.”

Dijkstra has got to give it to him. The bastard gathers himself to gesture naturally really well. He might have even fallen for it, if he hadn’t already caught the wide look in those familiar eyes.

“You are the infamous Sigismund Dijkstra. Or is it Sigi Reuven now?”

“I like the sound of Reuven better.”

The dead silence tells him he broke protocol by not finishing with the obligatory, ‘your imperial majesty.’ More bureaucratic bullcrap that will get him hanged faster.

But the emperor simply blinks. And rounds the table to stand before him.

Dijkstra carefully keeps still, his back straight as it can be with how his busted knee bothers him. Then the emperor says something in Nilfgaardian, and the guards holding his arms behind his back retreat to the doors. Finally, he can put weight off of his cursed leg.

The room wordlessly clears at the emperor's raised hand.

It’s only in the forced privacy that he is spoken to again, with a very cryptic, “I never forget the favors I owe.”

The memory barrels through his tired brain like a horse-drawn carriage without a rider.

“You don’t owe me shite,” he says with a sniff. That urchin—that fucking urchin man he spared one ounce of pity that night. Became emperor of the godsdamned world.

From rags to riches, he thinks almost hysterically.

Emhyr lifts an eyebrow. “Are you sure you do not want an emperor’s favor?”

Well. When he puts it like that.

"Considering what these fun little trinkets promise," Dijkstra emphasizes with the rattling of chains, "I'm not so sure what I can do with that favor."

Now they're in familiar ground. Deals and offers and counteroffers—and the urchin emperor speaks the language like a fluent native.

Dijkstra keeps his eyes level with Emhyr's as the man circles him round calmly. He doesn't turn his head to follow where he steps. He doesn't need to. It's his ears that must stay alert and attentive to the words chosen for delivery.

“You danced around my agents and my own spymaster like they were children fumbling in the dark." Emhyr pauses to round him again but in the opposite direction. His profile is the very portrait of his imperial likeness painted and sold across the Continent. The artist of those really captured his stare. Respectful and arrogant at the same time. "You made a powerful enemy, Mister Reuven, and you've made yourself quite the competitor in the Redanian scene. But perhaps we can talk and see where our disagreements lie.”

“Disagreements? Light way to put it.” He scoffs, but there is no denying how bloody curious he is to test how far a favor from the emperor will reach. “Sure, I'll be amenable to a talk.”

* * *

When he tells Roche, the fucking vassal lord of Temeria just standing around the corner of the throne room, he laughs at the answering disgruntled, constipated face.

“You saved the emperor when he was a cursed urchin, and now you’re the collared prick at his beck and call?”

“Says the whoreson who gave him Temeria wrapped in a pretty bow.” Dijkstra sighs. Roche sighs too, but his is more soulful. “Ah, fuck it. We both gave him the rest of the world on a silver platter.”

“You don’t sound that angry about that.”

There is a creeping truth to those words. A spy adapts, and he is adapting to the current lay of the land and its rules.

Dijkstra taps his newly acquired cane on the polished floor, remembering a shady party and the cellar with an urchin man with too-sharp eyes. What would have happened, had he not freed the beast? Would the world be under a different iron fist, a crueler fist? Would it have all burned down already, with neither him nor Roche alive to bicker about it? Would it have been peaceful, with no room for spywork like his?

“Maybe I wanna see this through.”

He always did love the challenge of an abstruse, unreadable mind to win over. Kings were one thing, but an emperor?

His thoughts must be written plain as day on his face, as Roche looks at him like he's struggling between throttling him, or diving neck first into a clear bottle of Nilfgaardian Lemon.

[365days365movies]

March 1, 2021: The Hobbit (Review)

Is “quaint” a good word here?

Maybe its the beautiful backgrounds, maybe it’s the stylized designs that make me think of Christmas specials, maybe it’s the faithful take on a classic story that I loved as a kid, but...I dunno. Quaint’s the first thing that comes to mind here for me, for whatever reason.

All I know is that I did enjoy this movie well-enough...even if it’s not my favorite. Don’t get me wrong, this is still a great story, and I do love the original Tolkien tale very much...but I don’t know if I can say this was my favorite adaptation or not.

Now, it got some things right that the Jackson movies didn’t, at last as far as I’m concerned. Thorin’s pretty good in this film, Gollum is great (as always), and it accurately sums up the story in a single movie without too much omitted (I do miss Beorn, though). But here’s the thing: the things that I think Jackson’s movies did wrong outnumber what this film did right.

You know, the weird addition of Tauriel and Legolas, the added Lake Town plot with fuckin’ Alfrid, the entire Azog thing, the fucking NECROMANCER thing, Rada...well, actually, I like Radagast. He was fun.

And that’s not to say that Jackson’s movies did nothing right. Quite the contrary! I mean, Martin Freeman is a PERFECT Bilbo Baggins, and basically everybody is perfectly cast, to be honest. And that includes what I think is the best part of the films: Smaug, as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch. And yeah, that motion capture footage is hilarious, but it pays the fuck OFF, what can I tell ya? I mean...come on.

Smaug in these movies is fucking AMAZING, and I genuinely love him. And...well, you know what, let’s actually get into the Review. Enough navel-gazing here. Here’s the Recap (Parts 1, 2, and 3), if you’d like to read that first! OK, let’s get this done and Reviewed!

Review

Cast and Acting: 7/10

Given that this is an animated film, this is an interesting category to grade. I’ll be doing so based on their vocal performances, and...eh. For a Rankin-Bass movie, the vocal performances are a little standard. However, that doesn’t mean there aren’t some standouts. Orson Bean plays a kind and contemplative Bilbo, and while I don’t know that I like him quite as much as Martin Freeman, I do still like his performance. John Huston is likewise good as Gandalf, although Ian McKellen is...well, Ian McKellen, even in The Hobbit films. And then...there’s Brother Theodore. And, boy oh boy, do I love his Gollum a lot! I think he’s legitimately fantastic as this version of the character, and specifically as this version of the character. Andy Serkis is still the better Gollum, I think, but I do think that Theodore handles Gollum’s last line in this film better than Serkis did. However, I can see Serkis becoming the devious little monster he eventually becomes a lot more.

Also, Hans Conried plays Thorin, and all I could hear was Captain Hook, like, the entire time. There are actually a lot of voice actors from the time period in here, like Don Messick, Paul Frees, and Thurl Ravenscroft, and they’re all fine. There’s also Richard Boone as Smaug, and...he’s OK. Not saying he’s great, but...he’s all right. His deep booming voice does work well for the role, and some of his line deliveries are pretty goddamn solid, but...I dunno, he just doesn’t bring the same gravelly gravitas that I expect of, well, a goddamn dragon, let’s be frank here.

Plot and Writing: 9/10

What can I say? It’s Tolkien! And they’re pretty exact with their adaptation of the original work, as adapted and written by Romeo Muller. And yeah, Muller does a good job...but he also writes this similar to how he wrote all of the other Rank Bass specials. If there’s any problem, it’s that. But even then...I don’t know if I can call that a real problem. Still, I’ll take a point off for it, even though it’s really closer to half a point. If anything, I’m upset that Beorn was completely absent. You coulda worked him in, Romeo!

Directing and Cinematography: 7/10

This is essentially judging the storyboarding, and how shots were positioned in the artistic process. And yeah, it’s...mostly good. Unfortunately, true to form for Rankin-Bass production, it often feels just a little too stiff in places. Makes sense since Arthur Rankin Jr. and Jules Bass are the directors. Not as bad as some of their other productions, but still definitely a notable quality of the film. So, points off for that, but the rest of it is honestly fine, especially for animation of the era. What came out from Disney that year?

Oh, damn, the Rescuers? Yeah...shit, yeah, that looked WAY better, and that wasn’t even one of Disney’s best looking film up to that point. Although, different budgets should probably be taken into account. OK, moving on.

Production and Art Design: 8/10

I like the backgrounds in this film a LOT, lemme tell you. They were done by Minoru Nishida, who’s done a hell of a lot of animation stuff, but was also the art director for Kill Bill Vol 1! Neat! But yeah, the backgrounds are absolutely gorgeous here. How about the rest of the art design? Characters were designed by Lester Abrams, then redesigned a bit by the Topcraft guys (specifically  Tsuguyuki Kubo), giving it the very stereotypical Rankin-Bass style that the movie is known for. And does it work? I mean...kinda. The good news is that the different races of Middle Earth are pretty goddamn distinguishable from each other, and creatively designed at that. The bad news...sorry, I never did get used to Smaug, I genuinely don’t like his design in this. Like...why the dog head? By all accounts, Smaug was a stereotypical wyrm-style dragon, with the reptilian features and I. I just...I don’t get it. Sorry, but Jackson’s Smaug wins here, hands down. But that said...I do like Gollum. It’s different, yeah, but I think his design works pretty well. After all, according to Tolkien, we’re not really supposed to know what Gollum is. And I think it works pretty goddamn well!

Music and Editing: 7/10

Glenn Yarbrough. I love ya. I SWEAR, I do actually like you and your main contribution to this movie, The Greatest Adventure. But if I have to hear that song ONE MORE GODDAMN TIME in this movie, I swear...because they chop up the song and use it in EVERY AVAILABLE INSTANCE with Bilbo. And I guess it’s his leitmotif, but they use that song...A LOT. And not instrumentally, I mean with the goddamn lyrics. Just...tone it down a little, OK? But OK, what about the other music, by Maury Laws? I like it! There are some songs in here that are very catchy, and I might actually get “Down, Down, to Goblin Town” on my playlist. Not that it’s all great, but it works for the setting and for the tone of the movie. And what about the editing? Eh. Visual editing is pretty good, bu7t the sound editing is...it’s 1970s animation editing. Hell, even the Rescuers sound editing wasn’t amazing, when I think about it. It’s fine, but it isn’t great most of the time.

Y’know...I think I can gel with a 76% here.

Yeah, I know, it’s low, but that’s because this movie was...good, but OK. I’m not necessarily saying that it was better or worse than the Jackson movies, because I think they compliment each other in some weird ways. I like Thorin as a character more here, but Smaug MUCH more in the Jackson films. While there definitely don’t need to be three Jackson movies...I’ll admit that I think this one is too short, coming in at only an hour and 18 minutes. And I gotta say, I love the fact that it’s animated...but the live-action films also look fantastic, I can never fault them for how they look (except for Dain...ugh). I think they’re similar, but different, at least for me.

But OK, here’s a question: is it just because it’s a property that I really like, and I have my own internal vision of it, which might be influenced by the live-action films? Entirely a possibility. Watch this movie yourself, make your own score! See what you think. Meanwhile, I’m going to try an experiment.

Fantasy movie, same production company, same directors, same animators, also based off of a fantasy book. And, uh...I dunno, a unicorn, maybe?

March 2, 2021: The Last Unicorn (1982)

[onewomancitadel]

How do you differentiate between Cinder and Winter/Weiss’s speech patterns? Like I know cinder doesn’t have as much of a fancy flair as they do but I’m like- pretty sure it’s there?

I’m writing cinder right now and I’m just having a hard time fighting out how to exactly figure out how she speaks.

That's really interesting. I don't think I would have considered their voices that similar until now so I hope I've given you an adequate answer - nailing down character voice is the hardest/most rewarding/most fun possible with fanfic!

If you're struggling with speech pattern and cadence I would both sit down for a rewatch as well as read transcripts of their dialogue. Also I would point out that Cinder lets her speech slip a little at points, I'm thinking most particularly of, 'You're gonna let her die, too?' (to Jaune) because that really stood out to me. I think that Cinder's speech probably partly comes from performance but then also is just part of her - like I think she picks up on some archaic constructions from Salem and it's sort of awkwardly cute - but then on the other hand I think when more casual inflection of speech crops up that's signalling something else about her character too ('more' her?).

There is also something a little grandiose and almost poetic about her and the character type I refer to when I think of her is the Bad Wizard Club, Byronic Heroes Anonymous etc. like Ganondorf's, 'I can see this girl's dreams.... oceans... oceans... oceans... Oceans as far as the eye can see. They are vast seas...' or Solas' Hallelujah-inflected speech (major Dragon Age: Inquisition and DA4 spoilers for this character lol)

I’ve journeyed deep into the Fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilisations I’ve watched as hosts of spirits clash to re-enact the bloody past in ancient wars both famous and forgotten every great war has its heroes I’m just curious what kind you’ll be

or that way they gave some of Darth Vader to Ben Solo (which was sort of just meant to be derivative ANH bullshit) but then because Adam Driver did that with his performance, you get almost this boy-king melancholic essence to his observations (and if you don't like Ben Solo I am afraid that I make no secret of being a Reylo) but THEN in particular with him you get the casual speech slips like Cinder which is why I think he's a meaningful comparison (shirtless scene... Kylo Ren says Yeah, me too, who ever thought YEAH was even in his vocabulary). My favourite line by Ben is when he narrates seeing Rey's dreams, 'At night, desperate to sleep, you imagine an ocean... I see it... I see the island.'

I would consider this type of speech the poetic observation that this particular character archetype excels at. For this reading of Cinder and how I approach her speech this is 'more her' than the femme fatale mask and I'm not talking about the mask here. There's still an element of gravitas to Cinder's speech and behaviour that I think is natural to her. That's why I say, 'Byronic heroine not femme fatale'.

Oh, I think especially of when they're descending into Haven's Vault, 'Much grander than Beacon's. I wonder what the effort was for,' by the way I'm doing all of these character lines from memory so plz forgive, that's also what I would consider contributing to it (observation of beauty).

The reason I refer to other character types is because when one is trying to construct a voice in fanfic one needs as much material as possible, it's a different art to writing original work and it's actually a lot of fun. Trying to figure out what works for her (why I think the Byronic heroine archetype is useful and I do not shut the fuck up about it) is the very rewarding/difficult/fun part, especially as Cinder's completely resistant to letting ANYBODY in.

So if you want to write her when she's performing for other people there's a wealth of it in V1-3 but you also have to remember that the whole conversation with Pyrrha basically is the first glimpse of Byronic heroine Cinder, 'Take care in knowing that I can use this power in ways you could never have imagined,' and 'Do you believe in destiny? / (devoutly) 'Yes.' One of the points I would emphasise once again is that Cinder's femme fatale performance is like an echo of an echo, so there's naturally a bizarre sense of artifice to her speech that I would read. Then again there's character speech and then there's character perspective and monologue, and even if you're writing V1-3 I think there are still colours of post-V4 characterisation which can be inserted in and realised there when, lacking her perspective in the show, it otherwise couldn't be done.

Speaking generally now - Cinder is very very unique to my ear - Cinder has a touch of sarcasm that's more in line with Jaune rather than Weiss' belligerence, Winter sashays between being completely cold and closed off and completely open and compassionate and kind and her impassioned, 'I'm giving you a head start' is that type of straightforward older sister heartbroken sincerity... it doesn't fit Cinder. Cinder's articulate speech sometimes has playfulness to it in V1-3 and sometimes I wonder how much she's screaming on the inside in the show. When I pay attention to the performance by their VA's there's a world of difference between them - like Winter, military older sister, Weiss, disowned heiress who shucked off the Schnee princess persona, Cinder, Fall Maiden-Byronic Heroine-Indecisive Queen (okay she is obviously Queen-themed especially as Salem dismisses her as a pawn, but I can’t help myself here), these are distinct archetypes you can study to differentiate them.

Also, I did sort of assume you're the same anon writing the fic set in V1-3 so that coloured some of my response but I did generally answer in the sense of her whole character. This is also potentially not one of my best responses ever because I'm finishing up my own fanfic, but I hope I've offered some things for you to think about with your own writing - obviously I don't want to tell you exactly what to do and think.

Finishing off this ask with Jeff Buckley's Hallelujah which I wrote this response listening to. :D

P.S. Don’t underestimate the power of music to construct character voice or even fanfic theme. Like, seriously, here’s a taste.

[nearlymanaged]

19. Insufferable Smartass and The Plan

Curiously, it was Sirius who suggested that him and Remus should bring their homework to Hogsmeade. When Remus pointed out that they might as well just enjoy the little daytrip with their friends and work later, Sirius started talking about how important school was and how procrastination was ‘the grave in which opportunity is buried’. In fact, he seemed eerily set on working on their Transfiguration essays together. In the end, regardless of what kind of Confundus spell had been cast on Sirius, Remus had no objections to the plan so they ran upstairs after breakfast to gather their stuff. 

When they came back down to the Entrance Hall, they cut in line (one of the perks of being sixth years) and headed straight to where James, Peter, and Lily, among some other friendly faces, were waiting for Filch to check their permission slips.

“Didn’t you two have a study date today?” James smirked at them and - with full, wholehearted, giggly approval of none other than Lily - ruffled his hair. Remus made a mental note to mention this very moment in his speech at James and Lily’s wedding, which, all of a sudden he was sure, was going to happen one day.

“Multitasking,” he nodded knowledgeably, “we’ll be drinking butterbeer while writing about the dangers of poorly executed human transfiguration.”

“I’m sure drinking butterbeer is somewhere there on the list of things not to do while you transfigure yourself,” Sirius added with the same gravitas.

“Well, if you get anything written at all, I’ll copy some of it later,” James looked at him while buttoning his jacket up.

“Why would you even suggest such a thing!?” Sirius exclaimed but Remus also caught him winking.

It just so happened that it was a beautiful spring day. Most of the students had no interest in hanging out at Three Broomsticks, or any other little shops and cafes of Hogsmeade, for more than five minutes. Remus and Sirius decided to get their homework out of the way first, so they headed for the pub, with the promise of meeting up with the rest of their friends at Honeydukes later.

Sirius insisted on paying for their butterbeers, which Remus accepted, albeit reluctantly. “I’ll get you something at Honeydukes,” he bobbed his head as Sirius followed him to one of the booths with two glasses in his hands. He also just so happened to sit down on the same side of their table, right next to Remus. But, of course, it made sense, because they were going to do homework together…

“Nah, just let me treat you to this.”

“Alright, what did you do?” Remus’ mouth split into a tentative, yet mischievous grin.

“What do you mean?” Sirius propped his elbow against the backrest of his seat and turned sideways, resting his right ankle on his left knee, to face Remus.

“Are you in a lot of trouble?”

“You’re deducting this from me buying you a drink?” Sirius smiled brightly, curiosity etched into his beaming eyes.

“Mixed with the fact that you’ve been set on getting away from our other friends. Are you trying to get out of detention? Look, before I casually confide in Dumbledore that I couldn’t bear to keep going if not for my best friends always there, always right at my side, I’d like to know what it is that you did to deserve a significant enough punishment that you actually want to get out of it,” Remus finished with a smirk.

“I--” Sirius frowned momentarily. “D’you know what… I think I do do that, don’t it?” He barked out a laugh. “You’re right!”

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out…”

“Fuck, you are bloody amazing, you are,” Sirius gazed at him, nothing short of starry-eyed. 

“I am?..” Remus chuckled.

“But you’re wrong this time.”

“I am!?”

“I haven’t done anything. I just want to treat you to a drink, that’s it.”

“Oh…” First, Remus gaped at Sirius dumbfounded, and then a melodious laugh erupted from him. He felt giddy all of a sudden. “Alright then…”

At first, they successfully dove into their essays. Remus was pleasantly surprised to see that Sirius had, in fact, already written a few paragraphs. But then, the more they sat there in that booth, their thighs and knees always touching; the more times Sirius leaned in so very close to glance at his essay, the more his black wavy hair tickled the side of Remus’ face -- the harder it was to focus on writing about Mirabella Plunkett and whether she was or wasn’t an animagus.

“Can I ask you something?” Sirius spoke up out of the blue a while later.

“When have you ever needed permission for that?” Remus mumbled as his quill traced the last couple of words of the sentence.

“Did you ever manage to conjure a corporeal Patronus?”

“Uh…” Remus tore his gaze off his essay and met Sirius’ grey eyes.

“My question has nothing to do with what we’re currently doing, by the way,” Sirius grinned.

“I’ve gathered.”

“So?”

“I don’t know… Kind of...”

“Kind of? So yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“What was it?”

Remus pursed his lips and his eyebrows dipped in contemplation. He knows!? “Some kind of an animal,” he answered slowly. 

“Some kind of an animal?”

“Mhm.”

“It wasn’t a dog, was it?” Sirius smirked and Remus cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his hair, shuffling his gaze back down onto his homework and biting the inside of his cheeks to keep from grinning.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled nonchalantly. “I’ll have to think about it. We should finish this in the meantime.”

“And then you’ll tell me?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.”

Remus couldn’t have said whether it was a minute or ten that he spent pretending to read his textbook while mentally rolling his eyes at himself for getting so flustered and giddy. Finally, after another round of butterbeers paid for by Sirius, they were both done with their essays.

“I did borrow a couple of your ideas, but I changed the wording and everything,” Sirius knit his eyebrows together as he looked down at his homework.

“Let’s see…” Remus started proofreading it. He spoke again after a couple of minutes, “you wrote the same exact sentence twice here. Is there a particular reason for that or..?” He slid the essay closer to Sirius and pointed at the lines he was talking about.

“I did?” Sirius grabbed the parchment and pulled it closer to himself. “Well it’s obviously your fault. You’re distracting me.”

“I’m distracting you?” Remus’ eyebrows shot up in an amused expression when Sirius lifted his eyes from the essay.

“Yes… Did you know you’ve got ink on your nose?” Sirius’ face instantly broke out into a smile.

“I do?..” Remus tried to use a napkin dispenser as a mirror but its once shiny surface was far too dusty and scuffed up to reflect anything.

“Let me…” Sirius grabbed a napkin, touched his wand to it, and conjured a tiny bit of water to get it damp. He then reached over - although him and Remus were sitting so close that there wasn’t much reaching to do - and wiped the blue smudge off the tips of his nose.

“Thanks…” Remus touched his nose absently. Now that he thought about it, Sirius would have probably made fun of Peter for having ink on his nose and would have let James walk around with a blue stain on his face without telling him at all, just for the heck of it. 

“No worries,” Sirius sat back with a newfound cheeky smirk on his face. Remus was very much aware that his ears must have gone red and Sirius evidently felt emboldened by it. “So what’s your Patronus?”

“Didn’t you say it was a dog?” Remus mirrored his expression. “Aren’t you going to fix your essay?”

“Later… So it is a dog then?”

“It is.”

“Any dog we know or…”

Remus bit the tip of his tongue as he tried to tone his admittedly idiotic grin down at least a little bit. Clearly, Sirius knew exactly what his Patronus was, and by the looks of it, he seemed to be pretty pleased by it. Remus started loading his parchment and ink into his bag as he shrugged in response to the question. “I think you know. Now, if we’re done with Transfiguration, why don’t we go find the others?” He got up and swung the strap of his bag over his shoulder.

“The...others?.. Wait, no!” Sirius grabbed his things and recklessly stuffed them into his bag, probably breaking his quill in the process. By the time he got up to his feet, Remus was at the door, holding it open for a pair of old ladies walking into Three Broomsticks, before he dove into the sunshine and crisp breeze outside.

“Oi, Lupin!” 

“Black?” Remus scrunched his nose at Sirius once the latter caught up with him.

“Remus! What is wrong with you?”

“So many things, where do I even begin…” The boy smiled sheepishly.

“Do you not like me? Am I just making it up?”

“What…”

“Haven’t you noticed that I’ve been…” Sirius shrugged animatedly, causing some passers by to cast dirty glances at them. “...swooning over you for months!? I mean, what is wrong with you?! Why won’t you see that I’m in love with you?”

A long silence wrapped around these words as they echoed in Remus’ head, and he simply stared at Sirius’ face. And it dawned on him, slowly, gradually, the meaning that Sirius’ voice carried. “I thought I was supposed to be the swooning type?” He said with a smirk springing to his lips.

“Bloody Merlin… Am I making it--”

“Can we talk? Not here?” Remus motioned at the entire length of High Street filled with people.

“Shit. Well,” Sirius mumbled as colour drained from his face. “Not like I didn’t know this was a possibility… But I will respect whatever you say. And, just so we’re clear, I don’t think this should get in the way of our friendship…”

“Sirius.”

“...because I don’t want to not know you ever again. I’m fine with being your friend…”

“Sirius, I…”

“...if that’s what you want. I just need an answer so I can move--”

Remus sighed to himself with a roll of his eyes - he couldn’t believe he was about to do this - he closed the gap between the two of them in one smooth stride, and, drowning his fingers in the black mane, pressed his lips to Sirius’, effectively cutting him off.

He had spent what felt like every waking moment of the past couple of days replaying that Truth or Dare kiss in his head, sinking deeper and deeper into the fantasy of getting to snog Sirius again. And yet - a fleeting thought flickered in his head - he wasn’t prepared for this. He couldn’t have known how dizzying it would be to feel Sirius’ arms snake around his waist, pulling him closer. He couldn’t have known how positively drunk with happiness he would feel when they pulled apart.

“I’m sorry, so rude of me to cut you off,” Remus’ lips formed a giddy grin while Sirius stared at him, seemingly dumbstruck, still holding him close. “What was it that you were saying?”

“I…” He blinked rather comically and gave the tiniest shake of his head. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that. Could you, please, repeat what you just did?”

Remus felt his heart quite literally expand in his chest as they kissed again, happy smiles permanently stuck on their faces.

* * *

“So you’ve been swooning over me?” Remus beamed sheepishly as he fiddled with the lapels of Sirius’ leather jacket.

“Very much so,” Sirius nodded stoically, making a mental note to perhaps one day tell Moony about what Amortentia smelled of to him - not just yet though. 

“No, you haven’t!”

“Yes, I have,” Sirius gave another nod of his head, feeling like his own exhilarated grin could barely fit on his face. He could hardly believe what had just happened. “Ask anyone we know.”

“What?..”

“Yep, everyone knows I fancy you.”

“W-what?”

“Oh yeah. James knows, Peter knows, I’m pretty sure Lily knows, and probably all her friends. Definitely Marlene and Mary. Everyone who’s seen us snog the other night knows. I’ve a feeling McGonagall knows too. Dumbledore probably knows as well, seeing as he keeps such a close eye on you. Madam Pomfrey? Ten galleons says she knows. The house elves know it, I think. Regulus shouted a weird insult at me the other day that suggests that he knows as well. Speaking of Slytherins, I wouldn’t be surprised if Snivellus knew. Who else?..” Sirius stared off into the distance, scratching his chin as he did.

“What…are you talking about...” Remus was squinting at him now.

“Oh yeah, everyone knows. Honestly, I thought you’d have figured it out by now yourself.”

Remus’ face split into a sunny smile all of a sudden. “Would have been easier if you had told me.”

“Last I checked, you snogged the living hell out of me so I’m hardly the one to take all the blame. Besides, I’ve tried telling you.”

“No, you haven’t,” Remus shook his head with an ever present smirk.

“I have too. Numerous times.”

“When?!”

“I don’t know, every day for the last couple of months,” Sirius shrugged, only vaguely aware of the hairs on the back of his neck standing up in some kind of electric excitement. He must have looked like an idiot too, he was sure, gazing at Moony the way he did. But he couldn’t help himself. Nothing had ever felt so unequivocally good and right, and if Sirius didn’t know better, he could have sworn he was dreaming. 

“What?” Remus scrunched up his nose, causing Sirius to chuckle.

“You,” he answered with an unabashed dreaminess permeating his voice.

“I know,” Moony’s lips formed a smug little smile. “You’ve been swooning over a disfigured werewolf with a compulsive need to correct people’s grammar - it must be tough.”

“Those are two of my favourite things about you. Always have been. That hasn’t changed.” Sirius rebutted without missing a beat, leapt over to Remus’ side, and took his hand, lacing their fingers together, which elicited a chuckle from the boy. “What?” Sirius nudged him with his shoulder.

“Nothing,” Remus shrugged and looked down at their linked hands. “I’m just really excited, I suppose.”

“I’ve never seen you laugh out of excitement before.” 

“Maybe I’ve never been this excited before, then.”

“I know I haven’t,” Sirius said and, only allowing himself a split second’s hesitation, lifted his free hand to cup Remus’ face and drew him into another kiss.

When their lips broke apart, their foreheads remained glued together, resting against each other for another moment. “Please tell me you didn’t write that Valentine’s day poem...”

A tickled laugh erupted from Sirius. “That was absolutely my own fault for allowing too much creative liberties…”

“As in, you actually hired that dwarf?” Remus arched his eyebrows as they fell into step side by side.

“I did. I also made a heart in your porridge that morning but you called it a butt, you uncultured troll.”

“That’s ‘uncultured troll that you’ve been swooning over’, excuse you.”

Sirius stopped dead in his tracks and when Moony - who also stopped, since they were holding hands - peered at him curiously, Sirius tugged him a little closer. “I am so into you,” he spoke barely above a whisper.

“Even though I fold my socks?” Remus attempted a nonchalant chuckle but his blushing ears gave him away.

“Even though you fold your socks.”

“Even though I’m a monster?”

“For the millionth time, Moony, shut the fuck up,” Sirius frowned momentarily. 

“Calling it something else only increases--”

“Yeah, I know, says Dumbledore. Whatever. I’d still rather call you ‘honey’ or ‘love’ or ‘handsome’-- or ‘nerd’, really,” he flashed Moony a charming grin before pointedly averting his eyes. “Or ‘my boyfriend’, if that’s alright with you…”

“Well, seeing as I’ve fancied you since about fourth year…”

“What?! Where was I?!”

“Fourth year?..” Remus stared off into the distance, squinting slightly, scratching his chin as he did. “If I remember correctly, you had a crush on that one sixth year Slytherin girl.”

“Unbelievable…”

“In fact, I think you went through a phase that year where you were only interested in older girls, so...”

“No, I mean… What was wrong with me?”

“Well, just off the top of my head--”

“It’s a rhetorical question, you insufferable smartass,” Sirius’ eyes glistened mischievously and then he planted a kiss on Remus’ lips - because he could, finally, after all those months.

“And you’re absolutely sure you want to be romantically affiliated with an insufferable smartass?” Remus sounded slightly out of breath when he spoke, a giddy smile painted across his face.

“More than anything, quite literally.”

Remus laughed - giggled - again, and Sirius felt like his feet were about to leave the ground; he was that full of love and of dizzying happiness. And that was his new favourite sound all of a sudden - one that he knew was for him only. 

“That summer after our fourth year...” He slid his hands into Remus’ jacket pockets - either for lack of knowing what to do with his hands or for a reason to touch his boyfriend Remus. “...was the summer when we talked on the phone a lot.”

“It was.” Moony gave a nod of his head and one of his trademark inquisitive looks.

“It was a bit romantic, wasn’t it?”

“I suppose so,” Remus chuckled lightly. 

“I’d really missed that this last summer. You’ll have to come visit this summer break!”

“Will I have to sleep on the floor of your bedroom this time?” Remus teased.

“I think I prefer the bed, but whatever you say. We can do the floor, we can do it wherever,” Sirius went on with exaggerated coyness etched into his features. “I’ll do it any place and any way you want.” 

“You say all these facetious, idiotic things,” Remus mumbled low, slowly bringing his hands up to Sirius’ face, squinting at him ever so slightly, “and you wear these dangly earrings and this dung eating grin, and I simply can’t…” Without finishing the sentence, Remus kissed Sirius senseless. 

Finally, Sirius snaked his arm around Moony’s waist and they started down the street again. They chatted as they walked, exchanging flirtatious lines and smiles, and Sirius caught his imagination painting an exciting picture of everyone finding out about him and Remus. A part of him could hardly wait for it. It was the same part that wanted to get atop the Astronomy Tower just to shout to the world about his boyfriend Remus, just to share his amazing luck with everyone. 

But at the core of his being, as he gazed into those beaming green eyes, Sirius wanted nothing more than to see Moony smile the way that he was smiling at him then - every day, for as long as they lived.  

The two of them slowly made their way to Honeydukes. It turned out to be the busiest shop in town, crawling with Hogwarts students. They stopped a few feet away from the entrance, allowing two small gaggles of third years to cross their path.

“D’you think...do you reckon it’s going to be strange? For James and Peter...” Remus smiled at Sirius sheepishly, his eyebrows dipping in dubiety. 

“Oh,” Sirius burst out laughing, his eyes glistening as he cupped Remus’ face with both of his hands, gently brushing his fingertips against the freckled skin, “oh, my love! They’re going to be relieved, trust me.”

“Are they?” Moony’s face slowly mimicked Sirius’ grin.

Before too long, the two boys went into Honeydukes where Remus, standing on his toes, located their friends huddled at the far end of the shop. Sirius started weaving his way through the sea of people, holding Remus’ hand in his - as they had done before when in crowded places. But this time, it felt different, far more exhilarating, Sirius thought.

By the time they crossed the room, however, they realised that their friends had gone. “Oh, there they are...and they just walked outside,” Remus followed them out with his gaze.

The two of them turned around, joking about, still holding hands, and Sirius led the way towards the exit. When they were almost at the door, they heard a familiar voice, speaking just outside, just out of sight.

“...and then they won’t be able to wriggle their way out of it!” Peter exclaimed triumphantly.

“Sirius won’t,” James spoke up next, “but who knows what lie Remus will come up with. The boy’s a bloody master at denial and dodging questions.”

At these words, both Sirius and Remus looked at each other, the same curiosity reflected in their faces. But before they could make the decision to either remain hidden or join their friends outside, Lily’s voice carried: “Trust me, it’ll work. They’ll be in each other’s arms by the end of it.”

“Or are you just saying that because you actually want to pretend to be on a date with me?”

Sirius and Remus both frowned and then almost broke out laughing at the same time in response to James’ words. 

“You wish, Potter!” Lily let out a melodious laugh and then spoke again, more sternly this time. “It’ll work. They fancy each other, but they’re both too stupid to make the first move. We just need to nudge them a little in the right direction. Don’t tell me this isn’t a brilliant plan?”

“Fine, it is. But that doesn’t mean that you don’t want to pretend to be on a date with me, does it?”

“Give it a rest, will ya, lad?” Peter’s exasperated, yet absolutely defeated voice caused Sirius to slap his hand over his own mouth to keep from laughing, while Remus clutched his chest, wheezing soundlessly. “I think the plan’s brilliant. And frankly, I’m tired of the whining and sighing.”

“Whose whining and sighing?” Remus whispered at Sirius but he just bit back a grin and shushed him.

“Peer pressure is a powerful weapon,” James quipped, making Lily and Peter chuckle outside. 

“Oh, I can’t wait!” Lily squealed.

“But what if they get together before then, on their own?” Peter asked and, after several silent seconds, during which they probably exchanged looks, the three Gryffindors burst out laughing.

“Good one, Wormy!” Lily cackled, to Sirius’ deep surprise.

“But seriously,” James spoke quieter now, “to be able to do this for two of my best friends is an honour. You know, I think it’s a privilege to be a part of it…”

“Gosh, you sound like they just asked you to be the best man…”

“Well, Sirius certainly will, won’t he?!”

“See,” Sirius turned to Remus and whispered with a playful smile, “I wasn’t exaggerating when I said that everyone knows.”

“I can’t believe this…” Remus shook his head slowly, staring blankly into space. “I can’t believe they’re plotting like that, behind our backs.”

“It’s interesting how confident they all are that you fancy me.”

Remus looked over to Sirius’ face again and was met with a cheeky smirk. “I know, it is interesting,” he played dumb, although not very successfully. “Is it bad that I kind of want to go along with their plan just to see what would happen?”

“But it wouldn’t make any sense if-- Wait…” Sirius’ smile faded. “You mean, pretend that we didn’t just snog multiple times and go along with their plan?”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

An outraged gasp erupted from Sirius as he shot Remus a dirty look. “Are you ashamed of me?!”

“Yes… Yes, you got me,” the boy uttered in a monotone.

“I’m just yanking your wand, Moony,” Sirius barked out a laugh at his boyfriend’s sarcasm. “Naturally, we have to do it.”

“Who are we if we don’t do it?”

“Certainly not Marauders.”

“A disappointment to ourselves, really.”

“And to all future generations of delinquents.”

“Besides, who are we to deny James the opportunity to go on a fake date with Lily?”

“Nothing but scoundrels if we get in the way of it.”

“Well, shall we?” Remus nodded his head in the direction of the exit.

Sirius quickly scooped up both of Moony’s hands and pulled him a little closer. “You make me so happy - always - but especially today.”

And they kissed, again, just inside Honeydukes, feeling like no one else was there, like no one could see them, even though it was brimming with people.

“Ah, there you are, we were looking for you,” Sirius drawled, a giddy smile permanently plastered all over his face, as he and Remus walked outside - no longer holding hands.

“We were looking for you!” James leapt over to the two boys and hooked his arms around their shoulders.

“Did you get your chocolate supply?” Lily looked over at Remus.

“Believe it or not, I’m still stocked from last time.”

“Oh? That is a little worrisome. How’s your blood sugar level?” She grinned.

“It’ll get me through the day.”

“What’s going on?” Peter, seemingly completely uninterested in the conversation, looked at Sirius curiously.

“What do you mean?” He shrugged with his hands buried in his pockets, fully aware that he must have looked nothing short of drunk - because that was close to how he felt.

“You two look awfully happy…” Peter shuffled his gaze onto Remus.

“We do?” Sirius asked brightly. “Moony, what do you think? How come we look so awfully happy?”

“Oh, that would be the euphoria of having finished our homework, Padfoot,” he answered with a radiant smile.